#plug in relay

[addohaislam2000]

Control relay, Solid state relays, latch, ssr, plug in relay, latching relay

V23047 Series 24 V DPDT 700 mW Single Contact Force Guided Relay

[ardl]

damn this blows i did not fully consider the implications of runnin the relay supply off the heaters while my heaters are elevated to 45-50V ish, gonna have to derive another damn power line w/ actually low voltage on it for real this time for a relay to switch those relays, i guess that makes indicators easy

[gunpowder-gemini]

My sister's fridge is leaking so she's explaining the concepts of plumbing and fridge mechanics that she's learning to her 3-month-old lmao

[rbrt2ierce]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/electromechanical--relays--automotive-relays/cb1-r-12v-panasonic-7527658

Panasonic Electric Works, non latching, Panasonic electric works

CB Series 30 A SPDT 12 VDC Inner Resistor Plug-In Type Automotive Relay

[aqg-arts]

I love this (check tags)! It makes so much sense lol!

I wanna try something for my fellow lore nerds:

What's a weird and specific Warframe head cannon/theory/whatever you fully subscribe to?

I personally believe that Issah (Umbra's son) got turned into a Warframe. Specifically maybe Volt or Gauss, idk lol. It seems like something Ballas would do- another way to fuck with Umbra, yk?

[artcalledwrap]

I May be Defacing Defacement

All D D

I may be sinking obliging

Appalling out the water

Pail so stupid into a bucket

Failing in activities

False in

Atmosphere

An ADHD

Be DD

Roll for oncoming trap doors

That potion swallowed

Actually did nothing

Roll sucka

An Automatic Rifle is being shot towards and near face

You heard the wisp

Check the casualty for responsiveness

Can you hear me

I’m checking for bleeding

You may be just dead

I’m in uselessness

Fumbling so childlike

Some one lost life

Where did you go next?

Living Infinitely Forever Energy

I just know & don’t understand

It’s a living process

You people’s

Just historically in the makings

Duck the heads

Leave UR’s up

A better future

RepublicanWrong

RW

Ra

Rw

Rw

Rw

F yeah

Mouths to feed

Like throwing candy

POW

Not from Israel

Not from Putin

Hostages

Hamas

In tunnels living underneath

The bombed

Deuce Attackers

My standing now after Veteran’s Day

I choose neither of the ones

Quit hating today collegiate little children in adult world mother fucts

And sucks like a vent

Hate me in both

Bring me

Obligatory Oblivion

I am the writing in problems

Kill me haters

You can find easy

To simple

I’m cachinnation

Been the in centered

By any missile

Slap snap a sticker on it and land it Prunt

Bitches

Been same seat a setting

.|.

Typography

Trump loving Prunts

Pricks

Cunts

The whole family of Trumps

.|.

Not period . . Period . . . . Such periods

Smitten

In Tampa x blood

He Donald

Hey shirtless

Fuck Hamas

Defacing Defacement

Prunts

I signed oath for other’s who couldn’t too

Kotex Russian

It will hurt

Sputnik

Fuck with all fingers and foot

Dear Vladimir Putin

Such a horror story

And near Thanksgiving

So Christians Christmas again with Putin

You’ve done nothing

Would you like a receipt with UR tax free purchase?

We know golf holes?

Trump and Sons

Not hard to figure out

D D

I may I post I add I blog

. .. or …

[charseraph]

C&A is a neobotanics and nooscionics lab. In other words, they grow and train sophont AIs, “seedlets,” and design software and hardware to interface organic minds with digital systems.

It’s a small enough company to draw little suspicion, but credible enough to be contracted by big name operations (mainly military).

They accidentally trapped a person in a noospace, the “noosciocircus,” with Caine, a seedlet grown and owned by C&A. He’s a well meaning seedlet, tasked to keep the trapped person sane as C&A keeps their body alive as long as possible.

In an effort to recover the person from the inside, they sent in another only to trap them as well. Their cumulating mistake becomes harder to pull the plug on as it would kill both the trapped and Caine, an expensive investment who just also happens to be relaying immensely valuable nootic data from his ongoing simulation.

C&A continues to send agents to assist the trapped from within, each with relevant skills. They’re getting a bit desperate, since the pool of candidates is limited to those who work with C&A and would not draw too much attention if gone missing.

So, the noosciocircus becomes testing ground for lesser semiohazards.

Semiohazards are stimuli that trigger a destructive response in the minds of perceivers. Semiohazards can be encoded into any medium, but are generally easiest to encode into sights and air pressure sequences. The effect, “a mulekick,” can range in severity from temporarily disabled breathing, to seizure, to brain death.

Extreme amputations (“truncations”) occur when a trapped agent ingests a semiohazard that shuts off the brain’s recognition of some body part as its own. Sieving is a last resort to permanently mechanically support the life of the trapped. Thanks to modern advancements, this is cheap and sustainable. Those overexposed to the hazards become the abstracted and are considered lost. Their bodies are kept alive for archival.

Semiohazards being a current hotspot of discovery and design means C&A is sending in semiotic specialists alongside programmers. Ragatha was sent in to provide the trapped with nootic endurance training, but she underestimated the condition of the trapped. Gangle, too, was sent to help the trapped navigate their new nootic state, but her own dealt avatar clotheslined her progress. She wasn’t too stable entering to begin with, but C&A’s options are limited.

[thef1diary]

Does ghost!max use plugs on reader? Or does he use himself to fill her up all the time? How does he punish her? Figging, spanks, edging, overstimulation👀👀👀👀

— why not a bit of everything 🤭 treading new territory here w figging but the thought isn’t leaving my mind. bear w me here cuz fuck that’s hot. 18+ content below

The punishment started slowly, deliberately, as Max preferred. A plug had been his opening move, filling you for days with no relief, teasing your body into a desperate need you couldn’t ignore. Each time you clenched around it, the emptiness beyond its unyielding length was a cruel reminder that this was all you would get. Not his hands. Not his cock. Just the plug, stretching you wide, leaving you wanting. He repaid you with the same amount of attention you’d given him for the past few days—nothing.

But when he finally decided you’d endured enough of that, he upped the stakes. He materialized beside you with a smirk and although he wasn’t fully visible—he never was—lately, you’d started to notice more of him. It was like a faint outline of his form, like shadows meeting mist.

He held a ginger root in his hand, peeled and roughly carved into the shape of a plug—larger than the one you had in you—the jagged, raw texture making your stomach twist.

“You’ve been ignoring me for days,” the spirit box crackled with his distorted voice as his invisible hands stroked your trembling thighs. “Now you’ll see what that gets you.”

You whimpered as he pulled the plug from your stretched hole, leaving you empty for only a moment before the ginger replaced it. The burn wasn’t immediate but once it hit, it was brutal, your muscles clenching and unclenching around the foreign intrusion. The heat spread like wildfire every time your hole tightened around it, making you cry out.

“Keep this in,” he commanded, his tone sharp as you squirmed, your legs trembling.

Your panties were pulled up snugly to hold the ginger in your ass, pressing it even deeper. The friction of the fabric made the burn worse, every tiny movement igniting sparks of unbearable heat deep inside you.

“I want you to feel it,” Max purred, his voice low and wicked. “Every single step you take, every chore you do, every moment you try to pretend you’re not dripping for me.”

He left you like that, the ginger stretching you, the fiery sensation building with every motion. You tried to focus on your tasks, but Max wasn’t going to let you get off that easy.

Invisible hands slid over your hips as you folded laundry, a cold, ghostly touch circling your clit through the damp fabric of your panties. The contrast of the icy fingers over and inside your cunt and the burning ginger in your ass made you whimper, your knees buckling as he teased you.

“You stop working, I stop playing,” the spirit box relayed his warning, his fingers pulling away as soon as you faltered.

You whined, your legs trembling as you forced yourself to continue, folding and stacking as best you could while his hands returned, teasing and tormenting you. He alternated between feather-light touches and deliberate thrusts, never enough to let you tip over the edge.

The minutes turned into what felt like hours, your body quivering with need, the ginger still lodged deep inside your ass, the burn mixing with the relentless ache of arousal.

When Max finally grew tired of your pitiful attempts at household tasks, he pushed you over his knee, holding you steady as you trembled.

“You thought you could ignore me?” his voice came through the device but you could almost feel his cold breath brushing against your ear. “You think I’ll let that slide?”

The first slap landed, sharp and stinging, making the ginger shift inside you. You cried out, the pain from his hand mingling with the unbearable heat inside you. Each strike made you clench around the ginger, the burn intensifying as he alternated between spanking you and twisting the root, pulling it halfway out only to shove it back in.

“Look at you,” he sneered, his voice laced with dark amusement. “A shaking, moaning mess, all because you thought you could ignore me.”

When he finally pulled the ginger out and tossed it aside, he circled your tight, puckering hole that had turned red and sensitive, making you squirm. You barely had time to recover before his fingers replaced the root. They slid inside your ass with ease, the cool touch a welcome contrast to the heat that lingered.

But Max wasn’t done. Using his other hand, his fingers curled inside your cunt, finding the spot that made you see stars, stroking it relentlessly. He brought you to the brink of orgasm by thrusting in and out of your ass and pussy simultaneously, only to stop just as you were about to tip over, leaving you sobbing and pleading.

“You’re not getting off that easily,” he hissed, dragging his cold fingers over your swollen clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your overstimulated body.

Again and again, he edged you, pulling you back from an orgasm each time, leaving you trembling and gasping, tears streaming down your face as you begged for release.

“Please, Max,” you sobbed, your voice broken. “Please, I’ll never ignore you again. Just—please.”

“Next time,” he whispered, the spirit box almost failing to pick up his voice. His cold lips brushed against your ear, “you’ll think twice before ignoring me.”

want more ghost!max? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[fanaticsnail]

I Can't Do This Without You

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,900+

Warnings: Pollen!Buggy x f! reader, swearing, smut, mdni, p n v, chase, thrill, fluff, semi-public, mutual pining, has plot - I swear, whimpering, pleading, groaning, use of pet names: baby, sugar, sugarplum, hun, captain, Buggy is a switch.

You groaned as the exhaustion overtook you, lulling your head backwards and releasing a deep sigh from the chasms of your throat. Feeling the fabric of the partially dampened tea-towel grind uncomfortably against your water-swollen fingertips had you release a hiss from your clenched teeth. 

It was your turn to remain awake, plagued by the domestic duties that came with serving alongside the Buggy pirates. Although your allocations were rotational, you loathed being the only pirate awake during the cryptid hours aboard the vessel. Everything was silenced, aside from the rambunctious snores produced in the crew-quarters: roars, snores and heavy-laden breathing calling you to both run to and away from them as your eyelids grew heavy. 

The echo of: “Nobody can do this like you can,” relayed on loop, the soft breath of your captain dancing atop your neck from behind. He knew exactly what his verbal praise did to you, the confident and arrogant asshole that he was. You adored your captain, loved serving him with your peers and sailing the East Blue with him guiding you through the currants and riding through the waves. 

The only issue that you had serving your captain was this one, small, unspoken thing that had him sweetly pouring your name from his painted lips in a sticky-sweet drawl. His molasses-tone purring for you, coaxing you into doing his bidding by just the utterance of your name. It had your knees aching, spine tingling and heartstrings caught in the firm vice of his gloved fist. Perhaps he truly had no idea what he was doing to you. The way the small rasp in his voice pulled against his tonsils, the sweetness in his cadence truly revealed who he was to you alone. 

You shook your head, plunging your hands back into the suds and muck of the dishwater. The texture of undiscarded food scraps brushing your fingertips caused your lips to pull back, revealing your pearled teeth in a disgusted snarl. Savages: the lot of them. A shudder crept up your back as you pulled the plug from the basin and ran the cool water from the tap. You anchored the nozzle of the tap over the basin, aiming for the bile-like gunk stuck to the steel container and coaxing them down the sink. 

Heavy footfalls of buckled boots broke you away from your disgust, alert and ready to meet with whomever tore you from your thoughts. You rinsed your rubber gloves before removing them, casting them aside to the corner of the sink beside the amassment of freshly cleansed dishes, and turned to greet your crewman. You were shocked to see it was not just a simple comrade sneaking in to collect a glass of water, but your captain clad in nothing but his tight leather pants and unbuckled boots. His long blue hair lay carelessly from his head, waterfalling from the crown of his head down his shoulders and tickling his chiseled abdomen. Whispers of the partially curled hair, untamed and unbridled without his striped red and white bandana, stuck to his forehead in stringy clusters. 

“H-Hey, Love,” his voice rasped. His eyes were panicked, wide behind the lengthy blue eyelashes. The small stuttered quiver in his ungloved hands had your brow furrowing into a dip in the middle of your face. Although not unaccustomed to pet-names from him; the tone in his voice held you captive and unwavering. 

“Captain?” you asked after him, watching as your voice caused his head to twitch to the side and eyes clamp tightly shut, “Captain? Are you okay? You look poorly.” You removed your apron and hastily cast it down to the side as you approached him. As quickly as you approached, he stuttered his feet backwards and fisted the doorframe within his firm grip. 

Immediately halting your steps, your heart beat harder within your chest. Panicked. Your Captain was panicked and frantic. He steadied himself, cowering away from your and physically holding himself to the frame as if it was the last thing anchoring him to the earth.

“Captain-?” you began, only for your words to be halted by your captain speaking through gritted teeth. His jaw was clenched so tightly closed, you were afraid he’d break his pearly teeth. 

“-J-Just-....hnngh-... I n-need you to do something-... f-for me,” his voice faltered as the last syllable left his painted lips. His brows furrowed, eyes clamped tightly shut; his blue triangular patterns adorning his cheeks bled into the creases he created with the tightness. Sweat was pooling from his brow, down his temple to his stubbled chin. 

“Captain!” you called after him, prompting him to shake his head from side to side violently to halt you from approaching him further. 

“This was a m-mistake. I c-can’t-... fuck-... I-,” He pulled himself closer to the doorframe; his hips falling flush against the wall from behind. Your eyes searched his closed lids, following the trail of sweat down his chin to the bob of his Adams apple and down the scruff of his tufts of blue chest-hair. 

“Captain,” you spoke in a warning tone. He shook his head from side to side once more, frantic and wild behind his clenched shut eyes. You took a tentative step towards him, his eyes snapping open at the small creak of your foot atop the floorboards. 

“Baby,” he whimpered through a pained groan. His pupils were blown wide and frantic. His saliva drew the red tint away from its designated position against his lips and down his chin. There was something rabid in the air. To what extent, you truly had no idea. 

“What do you need, sir?” Your professional response was to fall back into your ship-savvy training. You stood alert, your hands laced behind your back and awaiting orders from your pirate captain. He winced at your cadence, his voice unleashing a feral groan from his throat. It was deep, desperate and needy - heavy in the growl that laid against its raspy undertone. 

“Baby, I need you to take my head. Take my head, and run.” 

At that final command, he tossed his head at you and you began your sprint towards the upper deck of the Big-Top. You held your captain’s head within the hook of your elbow, cradling him into your chest as your feet picked up a sprint. 

“Where am I going, sir?” you asked him, looking down at the painted clown you had chosen as your captain.

“Away f-from my body,” he winced. You noticed the tone in his voice, picking up his immediate distress and almost halting your steps to go back to collect his torso-.

“-DON’T!” He barked at you. You stiffened, picking up the pace once again as you fled away from the kitchen’s scullery and to the woven ropes beside the top mast. 

Why did he have to collect that substance? Why did he have to find a way to siphon it into his latest ‘Buggy Ball’? Why did he have to spill it over his gloved wrist, immediately inhaling it and sneezing through the chalky pollen?

Because Captain Buggy D Clown was, among all other things, a fucking idiot. 

He cursed at himself, feeling the tightness in the crotch of his leather pants as he braced his body against the doorframe, hoping you had ran far enough away from him to not cage you against the wall and rut into you like an ill-tempered, ill-mannered staffordshire bull terrier. 

It was no secret that he gave you preferential treatment among the crew. He attempted to balance this out by giving you the poor jobs he wouldn’t dream of designating to the others because “nobody does it like you can.” He mentally slapped himself in the face at thinking of that, as he was cradled so protectively against the side of your chest. He wanted you, he wanted you. He wanted you.

But not like this. 

He continued to verbally berate himself as your feet carried you further atop the deck and up the ropes. Your feet looped effortlessly against the woven ladder, hoisting both yourself and him to the crows nest and cowering into the side: hidden and out of sight. The stars illuminated your skin, the rise and fall of your pants holding him in a hypnotic stance as he watched your breasts swell with oxygen. Desire fell from his lips in a feral growl, prompting you to look down and search his face with panic written all over it. 

Even in his afflicted state, he could truly see how desperately you cared for him. The way your hands reached to collect his chin and coax his pollen-blown pupils to meet with your own held him bewitched by your compassion. 

“Captain?” You asked after him, breaking him from his trance momentarily as he panted out incoherent curses and ramblings, “Buggy. You need to tell me what’s going on. How can I fix this? What can I do?”

“You gotta stay away from my body, Hun,” he winced, left eye closing as his right attempted to hold firm to your gaze, “h-he-...f-fuck-... He w-wants-.....hha-ah-... He wants you, Sugar.”

You stay stationary, holding firm and perplexed as your captain continues swearing, cursing and groaning into the wee hours of the morning. You had no idea what had come over him, his affliction pulling at your heart as you watched more sweat produce at his temple. 

“Why do I need to keep away from your body, Captain?” you asked him, placing his head down beside your own and lying down against the floorboards of the crows nest. He panted, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he winced through his next words.

“I fucking told you already, Baby. He wants you.” You cocked your head to the side as you watched your captain huff and suck his bottom lip in and out of his lips. His pants and groans caused caution to tug at your mind as you continued to study him. 

His pained face almost looked as a lover would writhe beneath their other half. Lustful and insatiable being the balance of his growling and pleading expression, his brows knitting together in concentration as he continued to pant like an animal. Surely your captain would not behave as irrationally as a teenager in search of their next crevice to gyrate against. 

Until it dawned on you.

That was exactly what you were dealing with. 

“Captain?” you cautiously asked down at him, “Did you-... D-Did you toy with that flower? The one you said you wouldn’t touch?” After several clenched inhales and exhales, Buggy managed to hiss out a simple word that would change your reaction from concerned to appalled. 

“Yes.”

You immediately began to grumble and chastise the captain, who whimpered away like a puppy caught behaving in a manner undesired by their owners. After a few minutes of berating and chastising, you halted your words as you witnessed the tremble in the bottom lip of your captain. You shook your head and huffed out a simple angry puff of breath. 

“You were warned that it was a powerful aphrodisiac, yes?” you snarled at him, top lip pulling upwards to reveal your canines. 

“Yes,” He managed to hiss out once again. 

“And you chose to fuck with it anyway? Knowing there is no known antidote, yes?” You reprimanded him again, prompting a small winced whimper from your captain as he cried another simple: “Yes.”

You groaned, feeling the frustration and pain of a thousand subordinates taking directions from an idiot captain, and turned on your side, collecting the clown’s whimpering head into your hands and hoisting him over to you. 

“Buggy,” your voice held the reprimanding tone of a superior as you cautioned a warning at your captain, “You are an idiot.”

“I know, Baby,” he managed to wince out through clenched teeth, “b-but I-...hnngh-... I c-couldn’t n-not. It was-... shit–t-... It was right there.”

You sucked in a long and exasperated breath through your nose, filling your chest with the rage of a begrudging superior and began to collect enough rage within you to bring down your frustration onto him-... Only to halt as your eyes met his. 

He was a wreck. His pupils blown, his lips quivering and his teeth chattering behind his whimpering mouth. He was awaiting your beration: dreading it, but prepared for it. He wanted you to be angry with him. He wanted you to be upset that he did something stupid. He wanted you to be-... you. He wanted you.

“Why did you seek me out, Captain?” you asked him while removing your overcoat and placing it to the side. 

“I-I-... I don’t kn-know,” he whimpered, his eyes wide and beginning to brim with desperate tears. 

“Oh? You don’t know?” you asked him, kicking off your boots beneath you and unbuckling your belt, “You didn’t think I’d desire to relieve you of this predicament?” You unbuttoned your blouse, springing forth your breasts into the air and shimmying the cotton material from your shoulders, “You are my Captain.”

“What-... W-What are you doing?” he panted at you. His jaw was slackened, unblinking eyes never once pulling away from you as you continued to undress yourself. You rolled your eyes at him as you continued shimmying yourself from your clothes; presenting your nudity beneath the dusted starlight. Your captain’s blush darkened beneath his painted face, eyes bulging as his jaw began involuntarily salivating. 

“Captain,” you huffed out, rolling back onto your side and meeting his gaze with your reprimanding gaze. Your eyes softened as they met with his, your eyebrows arching upwards at the center and a small smile drew itself to your lips. “You sought me out in the middle of the night,” you smirked, reaching for his cheek but halting before touching him. 

You witnessed his pained and conflicting expression, his grimace straining against his cheeks as his eyes continued to yearn for you. You apprehensively sighed, placing your palm down in front of the clown-captain and bore your eyes into his own. Always encouraging, supporting and cheering for him in your expression.

“I joined your crew to serve you, Buggy,” you confessed to him, “You. You, sir.” You scooted your body closer to him, opting to not make the initial contact with him and holding firm to your position perpendicular to him. He grimaced, wincing in pain but his eyes were full and blown with lust and yearning. 

“D-Don’t, Love,” his tone held the undertones of warning, his teeth pulling back and painfully gritting together in his jaw, “don’t say that. Y-You’re too g-good for the crew-... sssff-... too good f-for me-e.” 

You scoffed at him, inching ever closer to him and almost brushing your nose against his beautiful, rotund circle of a nose.

“I chose to serve you, Captain,” you bore down your intense gaze into his own, “In whatever capacity you deem me worthy.” He groaned, his face involuntarily seeking out your own as you continued your confession, “What is it you always say? Nobody can do this like I can?” 

His jaw fell slack, his eyes completely tint-less as they became eclipsed by desire. The cool teal of his irises were all but lost beneath his gaze. You smiled at him, turning over to lay on your back: eyes looking upwards at the stars as you unleashed a small sigh into the air. 

“What a-are you doing?” he stuttered, slowly inching his decapitated head towards your face. Your eyes held a softness, the smile on your face as hypnotic as the day he first laid eyes on you. 

“Oh, Captain,” you cooed at him, refusing to look at his face as you continued to stare upwards into the cloudless sky, “I’m just waiting for your body to catch up to where your head is.”

Buggy’s thoughts, swirling as the cesspool of a thousand bogs, was rattled by your words. Had he wanted you? Yes. He yearned for you, he pined for you. He had always imagined how beautiful you looked, split over his cock as he inched you downwards to take in his impressive length. He had always imagined you mewling and pleading for him to have you cum against his painted lips, coaxing the eruption of bliss from your core with his tongue as you rode his face. He had fisted his cock in solitude thinking of you, only you, as he spilt himself over his thumb and into a long forgotten sock while he whispered your name as gentle as a prayer between his lips. 

He wanted you. He wanted you so badly. But he wanted you to want him. He didn’t want you to just be his crewman in servitude to their captain. He wanted you to need him exactly as much as he needed you. Even while his senses became overpowered by the aphrodisiac, he wanted you to want him in return. 

“Captain?” your voice called to him, your apprehensive and almost shy tone breaking him from his thoughts. He nodded, knowing you could see him from the corner of your eyes. Even in his afflicted state, he attempted to keep his desperate eyes hyper focussed on your face as he noticed you gulp back a dry mouthful of saliva. “Do-... Do you think you could-... Talk to me a little?” 

“What d-you m-mean, Sugarplum?” he winced, feeling the proximity of his body rapidly approaching towards the two of you in the crows nest. You huffed out your embarrassment, already naked in body beside him but yet to bare your soul.

“Buggy,” you warned him, your eyes now becoming haunted with your own quiet longing and desperation, “You know what your voice does to me, sir. I-... If we’re going to do this, I need you to talk to me.”

He was long gone from the part of feigning innocence to the matter. He was fully aware you were interested in his flirtations: reciprocating them in turn, but always shying away first to his crude and unwithheld shamelessness. 

“You want me-... to get you in the mood? F-For me to… fuck you senseless?” He asked, his brow again releasing a new bead of frustrated and lustful sweat down his temple to his lip. He noticed the visible quiver in your body at the word ‘fuck’, prompting his body to quicken its haste at climbing the ropes from below. His pants were long discarded, his boots pooling at the floor beneath them as he continued to climb as a wild and ferocious beast up the ropes.

“O-Oh,” his whimpered question fled his lips more as a statement, a growl anchoring the end of his expression downwards as he watched your body continue to respond to him. Without warning, his head rocked into your shoulder, placing his lips on every inch of your skin he could find and wiggling his way upwards to trail long and desperate kisses to your jaw and neck. 

“Oh, baby,” he began, licking and kissing at the pulse of your neck, “I have thought of nothing but y-you… -hnghh, fuck-...” he confessed as his feet fell; his cock brushing slightly against the rope and providing the smallest amount of stimuli against the throbbing shaft, “I-I wanted you, hun. I wanted you s-so badly. I wanted t-to know what you looked like caged in my arms as I fucked you beneath me-,” his feet began to pick up the pace, sprinting up the ropes to draw his throbbing closer to you. 

“Hun, I don’t th-think you’re aware of how much I want you,” He licked a long stripe up your collar bone, his teeth grazing your skin as he whimpered against you, “baby, I-I-... I c-couldn’t-...” His words halted in his throat, truly not desiring to release his confession into the air for fear of never reclaiming the words back.

“What, Cap?” you gasped, finally turning to him with your eyes half-lidded and glazed with lust, “what couldn’t you do? Tell me. Tell me, please?” He growled, launching his decapitated head towards you and placing trails of creeping open-mouthed kisses against your cheek, nose and jaw - never claiming your lips beneath his for fear of breaking the spell and having you sprint from him. 

“I-I-...” he whined, feeling his feet beginning to tingle in his approach. He was so close to you, so close to your glistening opening: ready and waiting for him to dive into your supple flesh and chase his release, “-I only think of you. I-I-... I can’t-... I can’t cum without thinking of you. I need you. I only think of you, the way you’d fuck. Baby, the way you’d taste.” 

You gasped, finally claiming his cheek within your palm and watching the tearful expression of the clown within your hands and chasing his fleeting gaze with your eyes. 

“Captain?” you cooed down at him, desperately trying to conceal your enthusiasm and excitement with your tone, “Captain, do-... do you picture me? When you touch yourself? When you-... when you masterbate?” Before the clown could halt his pathetic words from falling from his lips, his mind began to spiral as he continued his unholy confession.

“Baby, I-I tried to cum s-so badly without you. I was right there. I even found your old wanted poster and thought of making you scream as I stretched you out. I-I tried to cum while thinking of you. I kept chasing it, hun. I-I-... I can’t do it without you. I was right there twelve times before I went to find you in the kitchens. I t-tried. It’s-... I can’t do this without you,” he desperately cried, his eyes open and honest as he spilt nothing but truths from his lips. Your heart broke for him, and the shame of his confession began to glisten your aching entrance and swollen clit with his pathetic whines and calls for you. 

At that, you felt the dangerous presence of his body begging to be reunified. The thrill held you quivering in anticipation, desperate to help your captain in whichever manner he deemed appropriate to chase his relief. You closed your eyes tightly shut, feeling his body fall downwards onto you and cage you beneath it. 

“Baby, s-say something,” Buggy’s voice whispered at your jaw, his lips collecting the skin beneath it, “I-I can’t control myself f-for much longer. Baby I n-need to know this is o-okay.” His plea had your eyes snap open, meeting his teal gaze as he desperately sought out your own. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, feeling the inches of heat grazing against your thigh in his shaft’s approach towards your shamefully aroused entrance. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered into you. You felt the graze of his swollen tip prodding against your oozing entrance, flicking its shined tip against your clit as he rejoined his head firmly atop his shoulders, “I never wanted it to be like this.” He reached down, grasping his abused shaft and almost screaming as he did. His senses were overwhelmed, so desperate for stimuli but conflicted because he wanted so desperately to be good for you. 

“It’s okay, Captain,” you reassured him, turning away from his face to shy from his feral expression. You held your eyes closed in shame at how truly intoxicated this made you. You were both blessing the horrible pollen for having him finally make a move, while guilty at the fact that this was the only reason you were feeling his knob rake slowly between your silken abdominal lips. 

“L-Look at me,” he whispered down at you, “p-please, baby. Please look at me.” As you slowly turned to face him, he achingly withheld the urge to slam his cock fully within your entrance and pushing to the hilt of his shaft in one swift movement. He was physically shaking with the inability to control himself further than allowing this one moment to pass between you. 

As your eyes slowly and coyly met, he glanced deep and unblinkingly into your eyes as he slowly inched the tip of his cock into you. You watched that subtle quiver in his eyes; the way his lip trembled at the friction as his leaking tip arched its way beyond the first point of contact. He muffled a scream, finally feeling relief at the contact of your walls sucking his cock within them. He fought back another urge to break away his eye contact and have his eyes roll back into his skull in bliss of the feeling - opting to continue staring deeply into your eyes as he slicked another few inches within your walls. 

Your breath hitched, staring deeply into his eyes as your lips parted at how truly beautiful you found him. He clenched his teeth together, angling his hips forward and slowly pressing down into you while wincing back his pleasured cries of bliss. He wanted so desperately for this to feel as good for you as it did for him, but the way the pollen enhanced his every sense had his limbs on fire. As he inched his cock down to the base of his shaft, he sucked his cheeks into his teeth alongside his tongue and bit down exceptionally hard to keep his cum from spilling over immediately. 

As you became accustomed to his width, you couldn’t help but sigh out a small mewl of pleasure at being filled by your captain into his ear. At that small hitched pitch of your voice, he began to rock his entire length within you as he groaned out a desperate cry of satisfaction. 

Don’t you dare cum, you idiot. You’ve finally got what you wanted. You wanted this. Don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t you dare cum-.

“-You c-can cum, Captain,” you whispered into his ear, placing a small kiss on the corner of his jaw, “You’ve waited so long, Bugs. I’m so proud of you. You can cum, baby. Cum for me.”

His breath hitched in his throat, his cock immediately responding to your guidance by snapping the tension within his stomach. His balls were pressed so tightly within his abdomen, almost swallowed within his stomach by how tight and desperate everything became. At that small whisper of praise from you, his orgasm crashed over him like a bolt of calculated lightning seeking him out as a conductor to direct the currant. Ribbons and ropes of hot and desperate strings of sticky cum shot from his tip to coat your walls with their lustful lubrication. 

“O-Oh fuck. Fuck! F-FucK!-.. Nghh-... I’m cumming. I-I’m cumming! F-Fuck, baby. I-I’m-.. Hhah-...” He cried into your shoulder, his lips and teeth collecting your neck beneath his mouth and clenching down onto your flesh. You hissed at the contact, feeling the waves of pleasure he was experiencing coat your walls as you soothed over his shoulders with a gentle, but firm touch. 

His slow thrusts came to a halt, completely sheathed within you as he rode through his high. The collection of arousal pooling at your thighs and coated his groin was surprising to the both of you at the culmination of the fluids. As his eyes drew downwards to the contact between your bodies, he gasped at how beautifully your body had taken him in. He was in awe that you would allow him to join with your body in this way, but guilty in the fact that he was the only one to claim pleasure from this encounter.

He quirked his head to the side, remaining fully sheathed within you and began rocking his hips a little. You gasped, feeling his lingering firmness within your core and brush with the underlayer of your clit while the top brushed with his pubic hair. He laughed with an almost sickening amount of glee.

“Would you look at that?” He managed to stutter out between the snapping of hips. He leant down towards you, hovering his lips just above your own, “I’m still hard.” He hummed thoughtfully, looking first to where your bodies were connected before darting his eyes back up to yours. 

Looking up at him with partially shocked eyes, you felt the lubrication of his prior release grinding against his cock sheathed within your core. His soft and deep gyrations had an involuntary cry fall from your parted lips at the friction. Buggy’s eyes smiled as his lips broke into a crooked smile.

“Ohh,” he cooed down at you, “Ooh, you thought we were done, didn’t you?” He reached down to collect your thighs, hooking them over his hips and joining them at the ankles, “oh, sweetheart. You thought you could get away with ordering your captain to cum in you without consequence?” 

He shifted his cock deeper within you, raking his hands at your thighs upwards to collect your ass beneath his wide fingers. You bit your bottom lip to halt a sound from leaving your lips, prompting Buggy’s teal eyes to look down at you and frown. He snapped his hips harder against you, slow and deliberate thrusts dragging at your walls with his cock and prying another muffled moan of desire from you. 

He frowned further, drawing his face closer into you and almost brushing his lips with yours. 

“Don’t you dare stop those pretty sounds from comin’ out,” he commanded you, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with desire. His throbbing cock was twitching within your fluttering walls, his groans of pleasure serenading you with his raspy tone gracing your ears, “Oh, Baby. Let me hear you. C’mon, now.” 

You screamed at your eyes to remain fixed on the man above you; his own half-lidded expression being mirrored in your irises as your lips almost brushed. He continued slowly anchoring his hips in and out of your glistening entrance with your walls fluttering around him. You gasped as he wove his arms beneath you and hoisted you upwards. He rocked back to sit atop his calves, pulling you with him to sit atop his lap and braced himself fully flush with you. 

With his arms hooked beneath you, he found the backs of your shoulders and braced you against his torso, breaking away his eye contact as his lips sucked on your neck. He gyrated his hips up into you, keeping you completely still and caged atop his lap as he rocked you. The new angle had your jaw slack and gasping silent cries and mewls of pleasure down into his ear. 

“You were so chatty, baby,” he grunted against your neck, trailing his lips against your neck to your jaw, “Where did that go, huh?”

At that final taunt, you wove your hands into the back of his scalp and forced his neck back to look up at you. He gasped out a sighed groan, jaw clenching at your manhandling of his sensitive body. Grinning up at you with a grimaced lop-sided smile, he again taunted you: “Too embarrassed by me? Don’t want to have the infamous Clown-Captain make you cum?”

He picked up the pace, almost disregarding your hands within his hair as his thrusts became more desperate and unbridled. His playful eyes never broke away from your face, only leaving to glace at your breasts bouncing at eye level and shamelessly ogling them before finding your eyes once more. His hips began to stutter more, almost rhythmically in tune with your body as he felt your walls suck him in with their flutters. 

“Not embarrassed, Cap,” you managed to gasp out, grinding down onto his cock. He squirmed beneath you, matching your circling and gyrating rhythm as he bucked up into you. “I’m just enjoying your voice.” You tugged back his hair tighter, his lips releasing a hissed sigh as you brought  your lips down to suck on his neck. He continued rolling his hips upwards, allowing you to chase your release by circling and gyrating against him. 

“P-Please,” He called in a voice above a whisper, “Please cum on my cock. I need you to cum on my cock, baby. I want you to use me like a toy. Your toy.” You whimpered against his neck, feeling the tightness in your abdomen increase to the center of your stomach. Your walls fluttered around his cock as he continued rocking you atop his lap. 

“No,” He shook his head out of your grasp and bore his teal eyes into your own. He uncircled his arms from beneath your shoulders to his right wrapping around your stomach while the other cradled your jaw, “No I want to see it. I want to see you cum. I want to see the lights dance in your eyes as I rock you on my lap. I want to see your pleasure as you chase it, sliding your slick cunt over my cock. Please, please baby. Please cum for me.”

As his eyes locked on yours, you felt the twirl within the pit of your stomach finally release the band of pleasure within you. Every inch of your body burst with the tingles of your orgasm: the tips of your toes shivering within the vibrations of warmth and static up to your legs, thighs, abdomen, torso, neck and face. You were suffocated by the cry you released of his name pouring from your lips as you raked your hips over his lap, whimpering and moaning for him as you rode your high into blissful overstimulation. 

Buggy had no idea when he began cumming, but he could feel you sucking every inch of his second release deep within you by the sturdy thumps of your glistening walls squeezing each drop from his quivering shaft. He cried for you, the sting of overstimulation balanced with ensuring you had truly finished allowing the waves of bliss to wash over you. He felt tethered to you, the only thing anchoring him down to this world as he serenaded your praises with the angels. 

He released your jaw, circling his hand to the back of your head and pulling you down to touch your forehead with his. Your movements stilled, the only sounds resonating were the crashes of waves against the hull and the distant roars, snores and heavy-laden breathing of your crew sleeping and remaining blissfully unaware of what just occurred within the crows nest. Sighs and breaths between you passed as you greeted one another with warm, coy smiles. 

“Did you learn your lesson, Captain?” you asked him with a small, sleepy giggle. 

“I think so, Hun,” he replied with the same tone, the creases of his eyes holding both his charm and his playfulness within it, “‘You’ll always look after me when I do something stupid’ was the lesson, right?” You pursed your lips at him, no longer having the energy to fight with him and opting to place a small chaste kiss atop his round nose. He winced at the caress, but opted not to pull away once he saw your sleep-deprived expression. 

“I’m just playing, Love,” he sighed into your face, still ghosting his lips over your own without fully committing to the kiss. 

“I know, Cap,” you mumbled sleepily, pressing a soft and deep caress of your lips against his. He groaned against your lips as they finally met, holding firm against you as you angled your head to deepen the kiss. Breaking the dance of your lips intertwining, you leant back and smiled warmly at him, “But I will always look after you when you do something stupid.”

“Oh good,” he sighed in relief, a broad and brilliant smile drawing itself against his lips as he hardened his resolve, “Because all I've learnt is nobody can do this like you can.”

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part four)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: jayce ghosts you when you need him most...so you have no choice but to lean on your best friend, ekko

pining, mental health mentions, neurodivergence, lmk if i missed any!

notes: ekko pic...omg... (you may think this series is going slow but i hate a slow burn ass fic that has them fucking chapter three don't pmo...also this evolved way past just jayce and i need to do ekko justice...bc some of yall don't, clocked it)

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

“Do you know that girl Jayce is always with?” 

You arrived to class, ready to learn—but not about physics truthfully. You expected to cut corners, create friendly conversation about nothing, humor Viktor. When you got there, though, you had to ask him immediately. 

“Mel Medara?” Viktor looked to you with intrigue. “I know of her…but not much about her.” He leaned to his left, toward you, “Why?” 

“She’s just always…around? And we spoke to each other once but I was in a hurry…didn’t get much chance for a formal introduction.” 

“Are you certain that your intrigue is rooted purely in your inquisitive nature…or is there another reason you want to share?” 

“No-“ 

The sound of the door towards the front of the class opening interrupted you—it was perfect timing, actually. You would rather not have to unpack why Mel’s presence bothered you so much; truthfully it was an inexplicable feeling. Someone walked in, and you sat up straighter. 

“Hi, everyone! My name is Caitlyn, some of you may know me if you’ve ever been to the student resource center.” She smiled at you, exchanging a look of recognition. “I wanted to formally introduce myself… I will be joining as a TA. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of the professor, you can ask me your course related questions.” She moved to plug a laptop into the projector, “Here is my email for future reference.” She allowed some time for people to copy and take photos of her email down. “Unfortunately, today’s class will be canceled for an emergency…but I was instructed to relay to you that the quiz will still be held next week. It’ll be on vectors and calculating their angles. Be sure to refresh yourselves over the weekend and reach out to me should you have any questions.” People started to shuffle around her, getting up to leave class. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, guys. Feel free to use the space to get some other work done, or leave early.” 

“What the fuck, this was such a waste of my time.” You glanced back towards the board, making sure you got the email address right. “I have been so tired I could be sleeping right now.” 

“I’m sorry, I know you have a lot to deal with right now.” Viktor moved to the end of the aisle, grabbing his cane while slinging his bag over one shoulder. “At least you’ve been in tutoring. The quiz this week should be easier, right?” 

“That’s the thing,” you reached for your phone, “We’ve only just got to vectors so far. That was hard enough.” You hovered your finger over Jayce’s contact, never actually having messaged him. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you started texting him. 

hi jayce 

im sorry to bother you but i have my quiz next week and its gonna be on more stuff than we got to in our sessions

do you have any time to meet with me this weekend? if not thats ok, i can ask my friend

You paused, walking behind Viktor without looking up from the phone screen. 

i just need you

No, you shook your head, continuing the text. 

i just need your help

lmk

ty 

You grimaced at the text bubbles, hating how you split all of that up. You imagined his annoyed face, seeing all of these desperate messages. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t answer. You wouldn’t answer you. 

Viktor turned to you, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, just frustrated and irritated and angry…thats all.” 

“That’s not a great combination.” 

You shook your head. Without trying, Viktor could always cheer you up. “Unrelated, but did Jayce ask you about what snacks I eat?” 

“He did,” he looked over at you, “It was odd. He said something about ‘reinforcements’ for your guys’ tutoring session.” 

“Oh...okay.” 

Viktor would call himself a lot of things, including perceptive. He didn’t say much, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on one another when you first met. He was aware of the way you spoke about each other, especially when it was just Viktor around. He simply arched a brow at you, observing your concerned look at the phone screen. 

“Maybe you should take the weekend to rest and recuperate.” 

“I would…but the quiz-“ 

“Just for today. Wait for Jayce to get back to you. Then you can focus solely on next week.” He nodded reassuringly. 

He returned the nod, liking the sound of the plan. 

If only Jayce had bothered to answer. 

——————

“Hi.” 

“Come on in.” Ekko stepped back, letting you into his dorm. 

“I know it’s so last minute, but I know nothing about angles …figured you could help.” 

“I absolutely can help and would love to.” 

You sat your stuff down, getting comfortable as you’d done dozens of times before. You turned a corner, washing your hands at the sink before heading to grab a throw blanket from Ekko's bed. 

He knew your habits, calling from the living room area. “I have the heated blanket out here, too, if you wanna use that one. Know you get cold.” 

You exited his room, wearing the slippers you left under his bed. “Once again, you are the best…because I am, in fact, freezing my ass off right now.” 

“Want something to drink?” 

“Always.” 

The two of you were so in sync—it had to be that way after Powder. It became worse when Vi blamed you, suspecting one of you said something to her to make her disappear. Even though you know you did nothing wrong, there was still a self-hate there. That you couldn’t be there for a friend who needed you—so much so that she left entirely. You couldn’t do that to Ekko, he felt the same. 

“So,” you pulled out the folder Jayce had given you, a slight frown on your face at the thought of him completely ignoring you. “I have this paper, its like a cheat sheet for vectors…but besides what Jayce told me I don’t know what to do. The TA said we also have to calculate the angles…that makes no sense.” 

Ekko grabbed his notebook, flipping to a blank sheet of paper. He sketched a makeshift drawing—surprisingly good for how quick he’d done it. You were always in awe of his artistic talent. 

“Okay, so here…is a light pole.” He moved his finger to the other side of the paper, motioning toward a little drawing of you, smiling on the sidewalk. “This is you.” 

“Wait I’m so adorable here!”

Ekko chuckled, side eyeing you a bit, “Yeah…” 

You snatched the pencil—quickly drawing in a stick figure of him. “This is you!” 

“Is it really? Couldn’t tell.” 

“Hey-“ You swatted his arm, “You’re identical in my opinion.” 

“If having lines for a body is identical…then sure. But anyways…not the point of my sketch.” He grabbed the pencil back, “Thank you very much.” He flipped the pencil, using the eraser side to show you the details. “Okay…light pole…you.” He smirked, knowing you wanted to interject. Ekko raised his hand before you could, “This is the distance between you and the pole.” He made up and wrote a random number in feet under the bottom, the same for the pole. “This is the height of the pole. This is all you need to find every angle and distance measurement.” 

The look on your face was one of pure confusion. “How does that make any sense whatsoever, Ekko?” You moved to close the book. “Actually, lets just watch a movie instead. I’m prepared to fail at this point.” 

Ekko grabbed the book from you, reopening it. “Well, I’m not, so let’s get to work.” 

He continued, explaining as best he could. It was no use, though, it just wasn’t making sense to you. You nodded, trying to get him to move on to something else. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” You reached to hug Ekko, “You’re the best.” Pulling back, you plastered on a smile, hiding the discomfort. You didn’t feel ready whatsoever. Suddenly, Ekko grabbed your hands, pulling your attention to him. 

“You’re gonna do great.” He lingered on you for a while, “Promise.” 

The doubt you felt made you want to hole up and skip class altogether. Eventually, it developed into a disdain for Jayce. When you thought about it, he was the reason you were going to fail…again. 

——————

You decided against skipping class on Monday, but you were definitely opting out of that damn tutoring session. If Jayce can’t answer a simple few texts, how were you to know you even had a standing appointment anymore. It made you feel less than worthy of a proper notice. Above all, it just felt plain unprofessional…he’s an employee after all. 

Walking into class and into this quiz felt like a walk to your execution. Midterms were quickly approaching, which meant you only had so many quizzes you could fail before the majority of your final grade was tainted by bad ones. 

Viktor greeted you as normal, moving over to give you a seat. “Are you prepared?”

“As best as I can be.” 

The beauty of college was that you did assessments in class and got the results as soon as you submitted. Knowing you would get your score back in the next few minutes had your stomach churning. An image of Jayce, carefree and nonchalant, popped into your head. Nothing was making sense. Reluctantly, you started choosing random answers—disregarding the calculator altogether. Before you knew it, your grade, a 56%, reflected back to you. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. You closed your laptop, getting up to leave class early. “I’ll see you later, Viktor.” 

Before he could reply, you were gone. Pushing through the door. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, texting Ekko. 

im done early, wanna meet rn?

He replied a few seconds later.

omw 

You picked up the pace, not out of urgency, but in pure frustration. Everything you’d been working towards wasn’t paying off. The time you spent not being with Ekko—with Jayce—was a waste. 

When you arrived to the dining hall, Ekko wasn’t there yet. You took the time to grab both you and him something to eat for lunch. Within minutes, Ekko showed up, that warm smile on his face as usual. He leaned into you, giving you a side hug while simultaneously grabbing the food from you. 

“How was the quiz?” You didnt reply, simply giving him a side eye. “Damn…I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault…but thanks for helping.” 

He’d seamlessly changed the subject—allowing the two of you to talk without the reminder of your failure that day. You didn’t acknowledge how fast the time had passed and truthfully, didn’t care. You hadn’t planned to show up to tutoring…much less give Jayce any notice. 

To your right, you suddenly heard a voice, interrupting you and Ekko. 

“Hey.” You looked over, seeing Jayce standing there. “I figured you’d be here.” He looks between you and Ekko, hands now on his hips. “You missed our session.” 

You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest. “Wow, really? Didn’t know we were still having those.” 

“Of course we are, you have those quizzes-“ 

“Had.” You interrupted, “There was one today. You’d know if you checked your phone.” 

He looked down, embarrassed at his phone sitting in his front pant pocket. 

“I’m sorry- I know this is important for you but something came up.” 

“What? What came up?” Ekko spoke up. 

Jayce turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence again. “Something personal,” he looked away, focusing back on you. “Can we talk alone?” 

Ekko spoke again, “Say what you need to say.” 

“I would, but I’m not talking to you.” 

A screech of Ekko’s chair resounded in the dining hall. You reached a hand out, gesturing toward them. “Ekko, please.” 

Ekko looked over to you and inhaled a deep breath. He was looking at Jayce again, but kept talking to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? Call if you need anything.” 

“Wait- Ekko-” 

Jayce gulped, sitting down across from you. You watched Ekko leave as Jayce took his seat, hands resting on the table. 

“What the hell is your problem? You ghost me then show up here with an attitude? I should be pissed…I am pissed! I failed because of you!” 

He nodded, knowing the weight of his being inaccessible. “I’m sorry.” 

“You said that.” 

“There was a personal thing, a family emergency-“

“And yet, your phone is still in working condition.”

You didn’t want to be insensitive, but it takes seconds to reply. A simple message would’ve sufficed. 

“My mom’s sick.” You froze—remembering that it’s just him and his mom. “She was in the hospital all weekend…it still hasn’t gotten better.” He paused, looking at you now, “I thought I owed you to at least show up today.” 

“Well…now I feel like shit.” 

“Don’t. Not your fault I didn’t tell you what was happening.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Hope she gets better?” 

You reached over, placing a comforting hand on his, “I can do that.” 

He let you linger there, before pulling back. “How about this week, since I messed up so bad with scheduling…we meet as much as you’d like just so you can be ready. Shit, it can be every day if you want.” He nodded, “We’re gonna make sure you pass this class if it’s the last thing I do.” 

“Are you sure? I can be pretty high maintenance…” 

He leaned back in his chair, a nonchalant yet playful look on his face, “Not worried about it.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged, “If you say so.” 

The pair of you exchanged smiles, not at all prepared for how tumultuous this week would be. 

part five

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses

[nathanielkreesewriting]

A Kingdom's Blood - Prologue

A Royal Road fantasy series, three new chapters every week!

The Empire has fallen. Now, across shattered lands and broken loyalties, something ancient stirs beneath the clouds.

Prologue

The Fall of the Empire

On the Thistle Plains just north of the Imperial Capital, whistles sounded as the line of Imperial Old Guard pushed forward. The plains, an expanse of thorns and bushes, looked like an anthill from a distance. Millions of soldiers clashed along a seventeen-mile front of death.

Airships hovered above, exchanging cannon fire or dropping large casks of explosives down on their foes. In front of the Imperial armies, mages stood, rune-etched clothes blowing in the wind as they stretched their hands out and let loose bolts of magic.

Opposite them, Paladins stood, their own runes glowing, powered not by their blood or their kingdom, but by their faith and prayers.

Lysa sat atop her warhorse, a checkered mare of black and white, its armor glowing white as its protection runes flashed in the darkness.

The Alliance of Nations had pushed them to the breaking point. As she looked out across the fields, she saw the middle begin to bend backward. Now. She thought, watching the General next to her.

The man, regal and proud atop his own horse, looked over at her and nodded before waving his sword. Flares suddenly shot into the sky, relaying orders across miles of terrain. The lines shifted slightly as the Old Guard sped up their pace and rushed into the middle gap beginning to form.

Nearly fifty thousand men strong, the guard hit the gap and instantly plugged it, their shields lighting up like a line of blue fire across the expanse of ground.

The sound was a melody that Lysa was familiar with, the clash of swords, the crack of cannon and gunfire, and the rare but occasional explosion of a destructive rune.

She spared a glance behind her toward the Capital city; it was a splendid sight of gold and marble white. In its center, a single beam of blue light shot into the heavens above, illuminating the Steel Fleet which sat back providing protection for it.

When the battle was won, the fleet would deploy and hunt down all survivors of this Alliance.

Suddenly there was a rumble from the direction of the Capital and Lysa’s eyes widened as one of the Steel Fleet's battleships erupted in flames and exploded, its carcass crashing down onto a section of buildings below it before secondary explosions sounded in a wall of fire.

The General wasted no time.

"Lysa, take my personal guards and see what's going on at the Capital!" General Leon said, not looking at her as he tried to keep his eye on the battle unfolding.

Lysa wheeled her horse around and drove her hard. Beside her, fifty other horses thundered as they raced toward the Capital.

Another ship of the Steel Fleet exploded, it too crashing down in a rain of fire.

She spurred her mount onward, the mare panting hard as they cleared several lines of brambles. Several lines of skirmishers looked to her warily as they let them through.

A third ship, then a fourth exploded and they too crashed down into the city. As she got closer and closer to the outskirts of the city, she saw with horror that the fleet was firing into itself. Runes glowed bright as beams of blue and white shot across the short distances between ships, exploding in deafening thunder.

Suddenly she caught sight of horses riding to meet her from the city.

General Renald. She sighed with relief as she drew closer, managing a smile despite her growing panic. Renalds long black hair looked majestic even against the backdrop of ruin behind him.

"General Renald, what's goi—"

She never got the words out as the General drew a rune-pistol and fired a shot straight at her. He chest suddenly glowed as her chosen first rune, one which had been forged by her since her time as a squire exploded outward in a shield of light.

The men with him also fired, instantly killing several of her retinue while other runes flared.

One of hers fired his own rune pistol, its rune lighting up with fire and engulfing an enemy in flames before the rune flickered.

A shot hit her horse, bringing them both crashing to the ground awkwardly. Bones broke and armor buckled from the weight of the horse. Both sides exchanged panicked and confused fire.

Some runes sparked and went dim, leaving their users helpless.

Renald swiftly dismounted, walking over to her with cold eyes.

"Renald," she wheezed, struggling to free herself, feeling nothing in her leg. "What have you done?"

The man didn’t reply, his face a perfect mask of neutrality. He raised his pistol again, this time one of its three runes flaring before suddenly dying. He looked at it confused.

Then it happened. The area suddenly was bathed in darkness as the eclipse happened overhead.

The beam of light from the Capital turned red before winking out. So too did the runes of their armor and the runes of the ships. As ships began to crash one after another, Lysa realized what had happened.

The King and his family are dead. And the magic along with them.

"On the third day of the third month of the twenty-third year of King Jericho’s rule, the Empire fell and the world was plunged into a darkness that shattered the continent."

Read more: [Royal Road link] New chapters every week (Mon/Wed/Friday) Follows and reblogs appreciated—thank you for helping a new fantasy author grow!

[nowimjustastranger]

I love the Ghost of You au so much, I'd love to hear more of those two! Obsessive and Someone Who Needs to be Obsessed Over is one of my fav dynamics 🥺

What are the first couple of days like after STCMO!Ford leaves traumatized Stan with Obsessive Ford? ❤️

Stanley is… quiet.

The silence presses down on Ford like a physical weight, suffocating and wrong. There’s this niggling in the back of his mind that insists that the filthy man currently sitting in his bathtub should never be quiet, that quiet is bad. Ford agrees on that much, at least. Ford hasn’t liked silence for as long as he could remember, so he had gotten good at pretending it wasn’t there by holding entirely one-sided conversations.

“You’ll probably need two baths and a shower before you’re fully clean.” Ford murmured, grabbing his three-in-one shower gel to squeeze a generous amount onto his palm. Ford had been using the same brand since boyhood, the scent was both calming and somehow familiar even if he couldn’t place where he had smelled it before.

Stanley didn’t so much as flinch as Ford worked the gel into a lather in his hair, the man staring down at the steadily browning  water with a vacant expression. Ford shifted with the urge to be closer, though short of climbing into the tub with Stanley, it just wasn’t possible. But that didn’t stop Ford from wanting Stanley here, with him, and not wherever Stanley had wandered off to in that head of his.

“I’ll salvage what I can, but you might want to consider a haircut.” Ford said lowly, his nose scrunching at the poor state Stanley’s hair was in. Ford was as gentle as the knots allowed him to be, patiently untangling the less problematic wads with his fingers. “I could cut it for you. I’m no professional, but I have dabbled. I’m confident that I could do a medium length cut.”

“You… don’t want it long?” Stanley asked, his tone neutral in a way that was clearly intentional. However, Ford was a little preoccupied with recovering from the unexpected shock of getting a response to his mindless rambling, nearly overwhelmed with the inexplicable urge to cry. Stanley’s voice was rough from straining his vocal cords, but the soft rasp was like music to Ford’s ears.

“Do you want it long?” Ford countered as he dipped his hands into the dirty water to rinse the suds off, only slightly choked up. Unfortunately, Stanley only shrugged, which didn’t give Ford much to work with when it came to figuring out what Stanley actually wanted. He had only emerged from his numb haze after Ford had brought up the haircut, so did that mean he wanted to keep his hair long?

“To be completely honest, I’m not sure I can salvage your hair. Getting it cut would take care of the more stubborn knots as well as ensure that your hair is healthy. Then you can grow it out to the length you prefer.” Ford relayed, watching Stanley’s expression closely for any hint that his hunch had been right. Thankfully, confirmation came in the form of Stanley’s tense shoulders easing.

“M’kay.” Stanley mumbled, his eyelids drooping a little as he obediently tilted his head back so Ford could wash the discolored suds out of his hair, making the water in the tub even more murky. It would have to be drained and replenished before Ford addressed Stanley’s body, though most of the dirt and mystery fluids had already been rinsed off due to Stanley splashing himself as soon as he had climbed into the nearly scalding water.

“I remember usin’ this stuff as a teen.” Stanley tentatively commented, squinting at the bottle of shower gel that Ford had set aside. Meanwhile, Ford had paused as another puzzle piece smoothly slotted into place, his arm submerged in the cloudy water to blindly feel for the plug. Ford stored the information in his mental file on Stanley before resuming his current task, watching the dirty water swirl down the drain.

“We can share.” Ford assured, grabbing the bottle in order to pass it to Stanley, who eagerly accepted it so he could pop the cap and sniff it. Ford replugged the tub before fiddling with the knobs until the temperature was just right, letting the tub refill.

“Man, I missed this shit. Good quality for cheap.” Stanley grunted, a note of nostalgia in his voice as he set the bottle back on the lip of the tub with an amount of care that struck Ford as uncharacteristic. He was unsure of how he knew this, which seemed to be a recurring theme ever since that helmeted asshole showed up on his doorstep.

Though, as Ford watched Stanley practically melt into the steaming water, he had to admit that one good thing had come from the otherwise trying interaction.

“I don’t have much by way of groceries, so I’ll have to go shopping.” Ford said with a grimace, he had never enjoyed going into town. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Stanley home alone, but he didn’t want to prematurely expose Stanley to Gravity Falls either. Quite the dilemma. “In the meantime, does sandwiches and soup for lunch sound agreeable?”

“I’m fine with whatever.” Stanley murmured with a lazy shrug, cracking an eye open as Ford squeezed another pile of the shower gel onto a washcloth that Ford had dunked into the tub and wrung. Stanley’s keen eyes tracked Ford’s movements, the washcloth gently running over Stanley’s pale skin. He’d need at least fifteen minutes a day in the sun to get his tan back, and to promote the production of Vitamin D.

“You’ll need to be on a strict diet until we put some padding on you, you’re too skinny.” Ford stated when the silence began to creep up on him, crawling over his skin like thousands of tiny bugs and buzzing in his ears like a swarm. His mind went blissfully quiet when Stanley responded with a noncommittal hum, the skittering insects alleviated as the sound washed over him like a balm.

“We’ll build your muscles back up as well, if you're amenable.” Ford added, subtly aiming a sidelong glance at Stanley as he worked the washcloth up his brother’s arm, and was promptly rewarded with another low grunt of compliance. Ford almost felt light-headed with elation, reeling from the power and control that had been placed into his eager hands.

When Ford touched Stanley, he didn’t flinch away. When Ford spoke, Stanley answered. When Ford made a decision, Stanley agreed.

It was dizzying, the realization that he had sway over another person’s life. Stanley’s life in specific. His brother’s life. Stanley would let Ford take care of him, would let Ford decide what was best. And in return, Stanley would never want for anything ever again, Ford would ensure it. And even if Stanley did decide to be difficult someday, Ford would never dare to reprimand him for expressing his feelings.

“I’ll have to hire the Corduroy family to add another room for your workout equipment.” Ford said with a pleased smile, his free hand brushing Stanley’s hair off his shoulder so Ford could clean his collarbone and neck with the cloth that was in his other hand. Stanley helpfully tilted his head, exposing his vulnerable neck to Ford’s gentle ministrations.

“Could just workout outside.” Stanley drawled, twisting to lean against the lip of the tub so Ford could get to his other arm.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Stanley. What if it’s raining? Or snowing? Or cold? Having an indoor workout area is practical.” Ford tutted, taking the opportunity to scrub Stanley’s back, the man arching into the contact with a low, content sound that had Ford’s chest warming. As far as Ford was concerned if Stanley was happy, then so was he.

“If ya say so, bro.” Stanley sighed and Ford finally gave in to the desire to bump his forehead against Stanley’s temple, the man huffing in amusement but readily accepting the affection. Ford’s insides were writhing in excitement at the acknowledgement, something inside him settling as the title of ‘brother’ was freely given. Ford didn’t yet know if he was older or younger, but he didn’t care either way.

“Can you shift for me, please?” Ford asked softly, mentally adding a shave onto his to-do list for today when Stanley’s stubble scraped against his nose as Ford nuzzled him. Stanley adjusted his position, leaning back and sinking down in the tub until the water lapped at his chin before he offered one of his legs to Ford, correctly anticipating his intentions.

Ford started from the foot and worked his way up the leg, pausing at Stanley’s inner thigh in order to glance at him. They made eye contact and Stanley shifted, legs spreading wider to signal his consent, so Ford carried on. Stanley watched him through half-lidded eyes, struggling to keep them open. Ford couldn’t imagine how tired he must be, with the eventful morning that he’s had.

“Use the shower to rinse, then we’ll eat and you can nap until dinner. Sound good?” Ford chuckled, brushing wet strands of hair out of Stanley’s face, the man nodding with a sluggish blink. Ford unplugged the tub before curling his hands under Stanley’s elbows to help him stand up, pleased when Stanley let Ford support most of his weight for a few moments as he adjusted to being upright.

“I’ll fetch you some clothes. I won’t be far, just call for me if you need anything.” Ford urged, reluctantly relinquishing his grip on Stanley so he could mess with the knobs to get the shower going. Stanley even went as far as to shift in order to shield Ford from the spray, which was sweet but ultimately redundant considering that Ford’s sleeves and knees were already soaked.

“M’kay.” Stanley mumbled, ducking his head under the spray as he roughly ran his hands over his body to help rinse the suds off. Ford backed to the door, keeping his eyes on Stanley for as long as possible before he inevitably had to leave the bathroom, though he kept the door cracked so he could hear Stanley humming some song or another as he moved across the hall to their bedroom to rummage through his closet.

[commodorez]

Thinking up some wild combinations of expansion devices for a VIC-20 to create the ultimate VIC. Idk, is this something y'all do with your computers for the fun of it?

If you're not sure what you're looking at, the first one is a VIC-1020 expansion chassis with a VIC-20 plugged into it, along with:

C2N datasette

Xetec Super Graphix Gold centronix printer adapter

SD2IEC

3 way user port expander

1660 Modem

VIC-REL relay expansion

VIC-1111 16K RAM Cartridge

VIC-1211A Super Expander with 3K RAM Cartridge

VIC-1213 Machine Language Monitor

VIC-1112 IEEE-488 Interface Cartridge (replica)

Protecto 80 40/80 Column Board

My custom VIC-20 Dual Serial Cart Mk I

The second one here is a different 6-slot multi-cartridge expander with those last 6 cartridges installed.

The thing is, this wouldn't even fully expand the VIC-20's RAM, you'd need a denser RAM cart, or maybe more expansion slots.

The question is more about what your target use case is intended to be, if not "the most powerful VIC-20 in the history of ever". What job is the VIC supposed to be doing that it might need all of these peripherals? Most likely, you'd be attaching the things you need as you need them, and there are so many other things that could be in the mix here that aren't, for example a 1540 disk drive, several other printers, game cartridges, a programmers aid cartridge, a user port serial adapter... I could keep going.

Most of the time, I don't need nearly as many cartridges installed. In fact, the vast majority of the time I'm running just a Super Expander or a Penultimate cartridge of some kind. Either because I'm working with a minimal setup or I really just want the all-in-one functionality that a Penultimate provides (although the latter takes a bit of setup to configure the same functions that several physical cartridges provide)

More often when I am doing a multi-cart setup, I go with my 4-slot expansion due to size constraints. Fortunately, it lets me fit an IEEE-488 adapter, super expander or penultimate, machine language monitor, and now my dual serial cart -- all without going overboard.

[oldguydoesstuff]

I was in highschool in the late 1970s, and our "new" computer was a DEC PDP-8, that was five years old or so.

However the school was still largely running on punch cards, and older IBM equipment from the 50s. Attendance for instance, was handled by each home room teacher putting an absent students punch card in an envelope that went down to the computer room, a process that had probably been going on for decades.

There the cards were sorted, and fed into this beast, an IBM 405 alphabetic accounting machine. This is basically a SQL statement implemented in steel, wires, and relays. It would print off a report using fields on the cards fed into it, and could be programmed via a plug board:

I will never forget the IBM service guy coming in to change the oil on this, the whole bottom of it was relays that just kind of sat in an oil bath.

So if you have computer problems, just be happy changing the oil isn't one of them lol.

[codenamesazanka]

AU idea. Spinner is the one who dies, and Shigaraki lives and gets the last words.

Spinner gets warped to the same rock Mic and Aizawa were on; dying, he asks them to give his last words to Shigaraki. Not very coherent, very rambling, a lot of it more airing out his regrets, but still last words:

Tell Shigaraki... I knew it wasn't... you. I'm sorry I didn't... that extra step. My life, my heart... empty. But following him... my first friend. Tell Shigaraki Tomura... 'You are my hero.'

After the war, Mic and Aizawa are somewhat of opposing opinions on whether to relay this to Shimura Tenko, who's in prison awaiting trial.

(Shimura still has AFO and OFA, but the combination of the two has "blocked" him from accessing any of it without decaying his body inside out, making him effectively quirkless)

Mic thinks they don't owe it to a Villain - he's grief-stricken and believes that Spinner and Shimura was responsible for breaking down Shirakumo, somehow. But Aizawa is more pensive - that Shirakumo gave his life to save Shimura, at the last second during the battle; and Iguchi Shuuichi would call the villain a 'friend'. Shirakumo was Mic and Aizawa's friend, whatever form he took, and given what he did, that's reason enough for them try. So in the end, Mic and Aizawa do go to see Shimura.

(All Might accompanies them; he calls Shimura 'Tenko', which Shimura does respond to).

Through the prison bars, Mic and Aizawa tells Shimura the circumstances around Spinner's death, and those last words... but Shimura is seemingly unmoved. Is that all Spinner said?

Mic gets upset, and he lays out all his frustration into Shimura. That's all he has to say? That was his follower's last words! Shirakumo died for this? Did Shimura ever cared for anything? He really is a monster who tried to destroy the world for nothing but some sick desire. How could anyone think Shimura is a Hero is beyond him.

This rant brings a bit more life into Shimura, who darkly wonders that since they're the real Heroes, why couldn't they save Spinner, so that Spinner didn't have to rely on a monster like him?

Mic yells at Shimura that that was his fault, giving Spinner extra quirks; while Aizawa butts in to say they did try to help Spinner - they warped Spinner back to Central Hospital, but it was too late. Spinner was declared brain dead.

That was something Shimura didn't know, only having heard that Spinner did not survive the hospital attack. Shimura asks when exactly Spinner died, and All Might pipes up that it took a while, but a relative (Spinner's older sister, but in disguise) finally came to finalize decisions and pull the plug, though she did not claim the body. The village refused to let him get buried back 'home'. Currently Spinner's unclaimed urn is at a pauper's grave facility.

Same as Toga.

Mic backs off a little, after that. No matter how he feels about the League, that's a pitiful end.

Aizawa asks what Shirakumo... what Kurogiri and the League meant to Shimura.

Shimura says that Kurogiri called the League his (Shigaraki's) friends. Kurogiri was there when the League was formed. Kurogiri had watched over him for nearly 10 years. Toga once teased him about being lonely that Kurogiri got captured.

He had wanted his League to live as they pleased.

After a moment of silence, Shimura also says, more softly than he had ever spoken before, that Spinner was the one who got him to play PvP again. So when Spinner wanted to see the horizon again, he wanted to make that happen.

Mic says, And that's why he called you his Hero? What a dumb reason...

Shimura says, Between friends, isn't that reason enough?

.*.

Months later, All Might is at UA, meeting with Nedzu. Mic sees him, says hi, observes that All Might has been coming in a lot to meet with Nedzu.

Yes, All Might responds. There's lot of reconstruction left to do. To improve things. Heteromorph discrimination, quirk counseling, Tartarus reform, welfare...

Mic expresses surprise and admiration for how much All Might and Nedzu is tackling.

All Might says it's not actually him - he's been acting as a liaison for Tomura.

Mic: For Shimura?

All Might says he's since insisted on using the name Shigaraki Tomura again. Despite the death sentence... Tomura has been trying to make use of his remaining time. So he's been working with Nedzu, to share his experiences.

Mic: For something like prevention? What, is he trying to atone?

All Might says, Yes. Well—Tomura's own words were... 'The Villains still need a Hero of their own.' And that's what he'll do until the end of his life. He'll fight to destroy for the League until the very end.

Mic considers this. He still doesn't like Shimura or Shigaraki or whatever name he's going by. But Mic also thinks about Shirakumo giving his life for this.

With a huff, Mic wishes them best of luck. ganbare.

[carionto]

Humans and Boredom IV | An Arms race has a Finish Line, Right?

Advances in shield technology are rare, but always significant, as they render nearly all weapons systems prior to the new discovery obsolete.

Humans don't really do shields all that much. With how powerful their basic weapons are, any energy shield technology basically didn't do anything worthwhile.

That is, until they got their hands on advances the rest of the Galaxy had made. Particularly deflector shields.

Now, even when supercharged by Human power generators, Human slug weapons still simply go through them, but every energy type weapon is rendered less than useless.

The way deflector shields work is two layered: the first detects and relays the exact characteristics of any known energy type, then the second mimics those but of the opposite polarity. This results in the incoming attack getting harmlessly reflected into space.

Humans plugged one in to a ship that also has a Human quantum computer, which, as all of their computers, are much faster, but are prone to crashes, data loss and corruption, and are just kinds buggy pieces of garbage. But really, really fast garbage. With this speed of computation, the deflector shield becomes an energy mirror. A targetable mirror at that.

Essentially, if you only have energy based weapons and encounter a Human ship with this shield, you can't open fire at them. You will end up attacking yourself. The "stop hitting yourself" protocol, as the Humans have dubbed it. If your shields can withstand your own attacks, you are not in a stalemate - the Human ship has weapons of it's own. Weapons your shields can't endure.

And even if by some miracle they can, every Human vessel has an incredibly powerful plasma weapon - their secondary main thrusters. Run away if a Human ship turns it's back to you but is RCS'ing towards you. You will not survive a plume of raw plasma directly funneled from their miniature star reactor. That's not a thing Human ships can survive. You, in your not-an-abomination-of-all-that-is-sane-engineering space ship, are fucked.

Back to when they first demonstrated what they can do with our deflector shields - they played ping pong with a similar ball of plasma. They did find a limit though - when the energy of the weapon exceeded the energy generators output. As in, that of a miniature star. Then enough of it got through and melted the drone piloted ship.

While we prioritize maintaining good relations with Humanity, we're also looking into reviving the long abandoned teleportation technology route. The combination of Humanity and Earth "vanishing and reappearing", plus unconfirmed rumors from pirate channels that Humans are experimenting with teleporters, make us reevaluate what kind of laws of physics we may have somehow not yet discovered.

One thing Humanity made clear they will not share with us is how they disappeared. Using uncharacteristically strong language with a rarely seen intensity in their tone and gaze. We'll have to figure this out ourselves.