#sway bar disconnect

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Dodge Challenger R/T

This custom Challenger was originally a Plum Crazy Purple car. It has a Shaker hood TA spoilers and dual mirrors. During its custom build it was fully disassembled and blasted before it was finished in custom PPG paint. The custom 528ci all-aluminum Indy HEMI engine features a Maxx aluminum block Manley rods Wiseco custom dome pistons 426-1 Indy heads with Super Mod porting K-Motion springs and 10-degree titanium keepers. The engine is fed by a 950cfm Holley Ultra HP carburetor through a port-matched Indy 426-2 intake. It?s also equipped with an Indy Maxx oil pump and oil pan custom 24-gallon aluminum fuel cell with a Holley racing fuel pump MSD Pro Billet distributor custom 1-1/4 ceramic-coated headers flowing into custom 3 exhaust with X-pipe and ceramic-coated Holly Flo Tec mufflers. A Be Cool aluminum radiator with dual thermostatically controlled fans Meziere high-volume water pump and Indy reverse-flow water pump keeps the engine running cool. Richmond 6-speed manual transmission with a long shifter and McCleod dual disc clutch with Lakewood scattershield transfers the power through a Dennys heavy-duty aluminum metal matrix driveshaft and DTS custom-built Dana 60 rear end with Strange axles. This Challenger features a custom frame and suspension with a full roll cage Aldan coilover shocks and Magnum Force A-arms with 1-1/8? sway bar up front Aldan coilovers out back Modified Competition Engineering engine and mid-plate mounts and full aluminum tubs. Wilwood dual master cylinder and billet disc brakes at all corners provide stopping power to the one-off Boyd Coddington billet wheels and Nitto 555Extreme ZR tires. Additionally this Challenger was equipped with a Painless wiring harness Summit battery disconnect dual batteries mini starter variable speed wipers Electro-life electric windows Halogen headlights and custom driving lights. The restored interior features Legendary leather seats a Rim Blow steering wheel center console full Auto Meter Phantom gauges and tachometer a custom Autosound stereo with 5-disc CD changer Sony Xplod amp and Pioneer Aramid fiber speakers with IMPP cones electric antennae tinted glass and air conditioning. 

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part seven

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol, drugs, swearing

You spotted Sarah through the crowd of people, carelessly dancing to the music. Still taken aback by the encounter with Rafe at the bar, a disconnected look lingered on your face as you approached her.

"Where have you been?" she called to you over the music, still swaying as she spoke, observing the disconnected look on your face.

Navigating through the lively crowd, the pulsating beat of the music reverberating through the air, you found Sarah. There she was, carefree and lost in the rhythm, her movements fluid and uninhibited. Yet, despite the infectious energy surrounding you, you couldn't shake off the unsettling encounter with Rafe at the bar. Your thoughts were a whirlwind, and your expression must have betrayed the turmoil within.

For a moment, you faltered, unsure how to respond. How could you possibly explain the storm raging inside you while the world around you continued to spin with carefree abandon? But with Sarah's unwavering gaze fixed upon you, you knew you couldn't evade her question.

"Just… needed some air," you finally managed, your voice barely audible over the music. It was a feeble attempt at deflecting her concern, but Sarah was not one to be easily fooled.

"Are you sure? You look like you've seen a ghost!" she yelled over the music again. Her words cut through the noise, and you couldn't help but offer a weak smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. But behind the facade, the weight of the encounter with Rafe still lingered, casting a shadow over the vibrant atmosphere of the party.

"I'm fine, really," you reassured her, though the words felt hollow even to your own ears. It was a reflexive response, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. But Sarah knew you well enough to see through the facade, and her concerned expression told you that your attempt at reassurance hadn't succeeded.

"Well whatever it is, forget about it for tonight, cause we're here to have fun!" Sarah's voice carried with it an infectious spirit, a melody of determination and joy. Her words ignited a spark within you, urging you to cast aside the heavy cloak of worry and embrace the fleeting magic of the moment. With a nod, you surrendered to the rhythm of the night, allowing yourself to be swept away in the whirlwind of euphoria.

Underneath the canopy of pulsating lights, amidst the throngs of revelers lost in their own reverie, you and Sarah forged a sanctuary of laughter and freedom. With each step on the dance floor, you shed the weight of the past, embracing the present with unbridled passion.

As you began to let loose, laughter bubbled up from deep within, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music as you danced alongside Sarah. It was a moment of liberation, a much-needed respite from the weight of what had just occurred.

Yet, amidst the euphoria, a nagging thought lingered in the back of your mind. Was Rafe still lurking somewhere in the shadows of the party, his presence a haunting specter in the midst of revelry? Or had he vanished into the night following your intense encounter?

As the intoxicating haze of the evening wrapped around you like a warm embrace, you found yourself scanning the crowd, searching for any trace of him. Each face blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions, but there was no sign of Rafe. Still, the gnawing uncertainty persisted, a silent whisper in the cacophony of sound.

Sarah's laughter broke through your reverie, her voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of light in the darkness. "Looking for someone?" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "JJ isn't here, you know!"

Her words snapped you back to the present, a playful reminder that perhaps you were letting your imagination run wild in the midst of the festivities. With a sheepish grin, you shook off the lingering unease, allowing yourself to be swept away once more by the infectious energy of the night.

As the energy levels surged and the pulsating rhythm of the music filled the air, an irresistible urge to elevate the night to new heights coursed through you. With a mischievous grin spreading across your face, you leaned in closer to Sarah, the vibrant lights casting playful shadows across your features.

"I want to make this night more interesting," you declared, your voice laced with excitement and anticipation. There was a spark in your eyes, a glimmer of daring as you shared your impulsive desire with your friend.

Sarah's own eyes lit up with intrigue, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Oh, do tell," she teased, her curiosity piqued by your bold declaration.

"Just wait and see," you smirked, the glint of anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you took one last swig of your drink, the liquid burning down your throat like a promise of excitement. With a flick of your wrist, you tossed the empty glass away, its clatter drowned out by the pulsating beat of the music.

Confidence radiated from every step as you strode purposefully toward the group of boys huddled around a table in the dimly lit living room. Your heart thrummed with exhilaration, the thrill of the unknown coursing through your veins like wildfire.

"Any room for one more?" you called out with a playful smile, your hands finding their place on your hips as you towered above them, a vision of self-assuredness and charm. The air crackled with anticipation as you awaited their response, ready to plunge headfirst into the whirlwind of excitement that awaited.

"Of course," one of the boys smirked, his eyes alight with mischief as he scooted over to make room for you, patting the spot next to him with a gesture of invitation. "Come join us."

His words were laced with a hint of intrigue, the promise of adventure hanging thick in the air as you settled in beside him. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, a shared sense of excitement binding you together in the pulsating energy of the room.

With a smile playing at your lips, you accepted their invitation, immersing yourself in the lively conversation and laughter that danced around the table. In that moment, surrounded by newfound friends and the electric thrum of the night, you felt alive, ready to embrace whatever the evening had in store.

Your gaze fixed on the table before you, transfixed by the clandestine ritual unfolding in front of your eyes. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you watched as one of them meticulously lined up a powdery substance, its pristine whiteness stark against the dark surface.

Each movement was deliberate, almost reverent, as they leaned forward and methodically sniffed each line, their actions a silent testament to the allure of the forbidden. The air crackled with an electric tension, a palpable sense of anticipation hanging heavy in the room.

Intrigued yet wary, you found yourself drawn deeper into the scene unfolding before you, your senses heightened by the heady cocktail of excitement and apprehension. It was a glimpse into a world shrouded in mystery, a world where boundaries blurred and inhibitions faded away with each intoxicating breath.

As the powder vanished into thin air, leaving behind only traces of its presence, you felt a surge of adrenaline course through your veins. In that moment, you stood at the precipice of temptation, teetering on the edge between curiosity and caution, unsure of which path to follow.

Your mouth seemed to dry up as an urge stirred within you, a primal desire gnawing at your insides as you watched the drug-induced spectacle unfold before you. Like a hawk, you scrutinized every movement, every fleeting gesture, drawn in by the allure of the forbidden.

"You got any more of that?" The words slipped past your lips before you could stop them, a reckless impulse driving you to the brink of temptation. The boy's head snapped up, his eyes widening in disbelief as he registered your request.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant throb of the music pulsating through the room. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, a silent interrogation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, a knowing smile spread across the boy's lips, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. With a casual shrug, he reached into his pocket, producing a small baggie filled with the same powdery substance that had captivated your attention moments before.

"Careful what you wish for," he chuckled, his voice a low whisper lost in the chaos of the room. And as he handed you the baggie, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, mingling with the heady thrill of anticipation.

In that fleeting moment, you stood at the crossroads of temptation and consequence, the weight of your decision hanging heavy in the air. But as you reached out to accept the offering, a sense of exhilaration swept over you, a silent vow to embrace the unknown and seize the night with reckless abandon.

As you emptied the substance onto the table before you, a hushed reverence settled over the room, punctuated only by the rhythmic thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Each grain of powder glistened under the dim glow of the lights, a mesmerizing tableau that held you captive in its spell.

Awe and disbelief mingled within you as you stared down at the tableau of temptation spread out before you. It was a moment suspended in time, a delicate balance between curiosity and apprehension, as you grappled with the gravity of what you were about to do.

Drawing in a deep breath, you steadied yourself, your hands trembling ever so slightly as you meticulously lined up the white powder before you. Each movement was deliberate, a silent prayer whispered into the void as you prepared to cross the threshold into the unknown.

In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only you and the intoxicating promise of what lay before you. With a sense of determination coursing through your veins, you leaned forward, your breath catching in your throat as you hovered over the powder, poised to take the plunge into uncharted territory.

Suddenly, just as you were about to succumb to the allure of the substance before you, a strong grip wrapped around your wrist, yanking you away from the couch with unexpected force. Startled, you widened your eyes in shock, trying to discern who or what was pulling you away from the intoxicating temptation.

As you struggled to regain your bearings, your gaze locked onto the familiar figure of Rafe standing before you, his expression unreadable yet commanding. The rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins mingled with a sense of apprehension as you braced yourself for what was to come.

"We're leaving," his voice cut through the chaos of the room, each word carrying an unspoken weight that left no room for argument. There was a steely resolve in his tone, a silent insistence that brooked no defiance.

"Rafe, what are you doing? Let go!" you protested, trying to free your wrist from his firm grip, but his hold remained unyielding, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing back there?" His voice was low and gravelly, laced with a potent mixture of anger and concern. There was a fire in his eyes, a flicker of something dark and dangerous simmering beneath the surface as he confronted you.

Caught off guard by his sudden aggression, you faltered for a moment, scrambling to find the right words to defend yourself. But as you met his unwavering gaze, you knew there was no escaping the weight of his scrutiny.

"I-I was just…" Your voice trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Guilt and shame mingled with defiance, a tumultuous storm raging beneath the surface as you faced Rafe's unwavering scrutiny.

"You were just what? About to do coke?" Rafe's voice was sharp, his eyes drilling into yours with an intensity that made your insides churn with guilt and shame. His words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the reckless path you had been teetering on.

Your throat felt dry as you struggled to find the right words, a sense of unease knotting in the pit of your stomach. The truth hung between you like a heavy shroud, impossible to deny or evade.

"I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a feeble attempt to deflect the weight of his accusation, but the truth lingered in the air, a bitter taste of regret on your tongue.

As the silence stretched between you, a sense of resignation settled over you like a heavy blanket. There was no escaping the consequences of your actions, no way to undo the choices that had led you to this moment.

With a heavy sigh, you met Rafe's unwavering gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. In that moment, you knew that his concern was born out of love, a desire to protect you from the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

"Over my dead body am I gonna sit there and let you fucking do coke," Rafe's voice was firm, his gaze unwavering as he confronted you with a steely determination.

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of his disapproval bearing down on you like a heavy burden. It was a stark reminder of the line you had crossed, the recklessness of your actions laid bare before you.

"But you do it, Rafe," you countered, your voice laced with frustration and accusation. It was a bitter truth that hung between you, a painful reminder of the hypocrisy that tainted your relationship.

For a moment, silence engulfed you both, the air heavy with unspoken tension. In the quietude, the truth of your words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the facade of righteousness Rafe had projected. But as you met his gaze, you saw something flicker behind his eyes, a shadow of vulnerability that belied his outward stoicism. In that moment, you realized that beneath the surface, Rafe was grappling with his own demons, struggling to reconcile the contradictions within himself.

"That doesn't make it okay, Y/N." Rafe's voice was tinged with disappointment, his words a sobering reminder of the gravity of the situation.

You flinched at the weight of his admonishment, the truth of his words cutting through the haze of rationalization that had clouded your judgment. It was a harsh reality check, a stark contrast to the excuses you had been clinging to.

"Why do you care what I do, Rafe?" you questioned, your voice tinged with frustration and confusion. It was a question that had been gnawing at the edges of your mind, a desperate plea for clarity amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions.

Rafe's expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his features as he met your gaze. "Because I care about you, Y/N," he admitted, his voice gentle yet firm. "I can't watch you do this to yourself."

His words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with a truth you had been reluctant to acknowledge. It was a sobering reminder of the depth of his concern, a testament to the strength of the bond that bound you together.

"I-I'm fine, Rafe," you slurred, your words muddled by the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your movements were unsteady, your balance precarious as you stumbled forward, but Rafe's steady hand reached out, catching you before you could fall.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a fleeting moment of reassurance amidst the haze of confusion that clouded your mind. In that instant, you felt a surge of gratitude wash over you, knowing that despite your protests, Rafe was there to support you, to keep you safe from harm.

But even as you leaned into his embrace, a part of you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You knew that you had crossed a line, that your actions had consequences far beyond what you could comprehend in your current state.

"But Sarah—" you began, your words slurred and hesitant, your mind still clouded by the effects of the alcohol.

"I'll tell her I took you home because I ran into you at the party and saw you getting sick. Don't worry about it," Rafe interjected, his voice calm yet resolute. There was a reassuring warmth in his tone, a silent promise to shoulder the burden of your indiscretions.

Despite the fog of confusion that enveloped your thoughts, a sense of relief washed over you at Rafe's words. It was a weight lifted from your shoulders, a comforting reassurance that you wouldn't have to face the consequences of your actions alone.

With a nod of reluctant gratitude, you allowed yourself to be led away from the chaos of the party, Rafe's steady presence a beacon of stability in the midst of uncertainty. And as you slipped into the cool night air, a sense of peace settled over you, knowing that despite the mistakes you had made, you were under Rafe's protection.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You found yourself jolting awake to a hushed voice urging you to wake up, followed by a gentle shoulder shake. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, your eyes flew open, taking in the dimly lit interior of Rafe's truck. The familiar scent of leather and cologne enveloped you, a comforting reminder of the safety and familiarity of your surroundings.

"Where are we?" you murmured, your voice still thick with drowsiness as you stretched, the weariness of the night clinging to your bones.

"We're in my driveway," Rafe answered quietly, his voice a soft murmur in the intimate space of the truck's cabin.

You sat up a bit at Rafe's answer, the fog of sleep slowly dissipating as you looked around the dimly lit interior of the truck. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the familiar surroundings of Rafe's driveway came into focus, and a sense of recognition washed over you.

"Oh..." you murmured, a drowsy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you realized where you were. "Well, thanks."

Rafe responded simply to your comment, offering a small hum and a gentle smile before he opened the driver's door and stepped out. You moved to follow suit, reaching for your own door handle, but you were stopped short by Rafe's sudden action.

"Grab my hand," he said, his voice soft yet insistent, as he held out his hand towards you.

Surprised by his unexpected gesture, you hesitated for a moment before accepting his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. A warmth spread through you at the contact, a sense of connection that transcended words.

With Rafe's guidance, you stepped out of the truck and onto solid ground, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. As you stood there, hand in hand with Rafe, a sense of gratitude washed over you at his kindness.

Lost in a trance, you found yourself captivated by the sight of Rafe's hands as he fumbled with his key, the veins in his arms standing out in stark relief against the soft glow of the porch light. Each movement was deliberate, a testament to his strength and determination as he twisted the key in the lock, the metallic click of the mechanism echoing in the stillness of the night.

As the door swung open, Rafe stood there silently, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea that tugged at the edges of your heart.

Wordlessly, he motioned for you to go inside first, a gesture that spoke volumes without the need for words. With a nod of understanding, you stepped past him and into the warmth of the foyer, the soft light casting a gentle glow over the familiar surroundings.

You waited silently as Rafe walked in and ascended the stairs, his silent invitation hanging in the air like a lingering echo. With hesitant steps, you followed him, the weight of nostalgia settling over you like a heavy blanket as you climbed the familiar staircase.

The hallway stretched out before you, its walls adorned with family portraits and mementos of a life long past. Each step forward was a journey into the depths of memory, a bittersweet reminder of the moments you had shared with the Cameron siblings in days gone by.

As you reached the top of the stairs, a wave of sadness washed over you, the weight of years of absence pressing down on your shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear. It had been so long since you had set foot in this place, since you had felt the warmth of family and friendship that had once filled these halls.

The memories flooded back in a rush, overwhelming you with their intensity. You could almost hear the echoes of laughter and chatter that had once filled these halls, the echoes of a time when everything had seemed so simple and carefree.

But now, as you stood there in the silence of the hallway, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the passage of time. Things had changed, and you couldn't shake the feeling of loss that clung to you like a shadow, a reminder of all that had been lost in the intervening years. With a heavy heart, you followed Rafe down the familiar hallway, each step a silent testament to the passage of time and the inevitability of change.

As Rafe closed the door behind you, enveloping the room in a cocoon of silence, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension creeping over you. The space felt both familiar and foreign, a reminder of all that had once been and all that had changed.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the surroundings, the memories flooding back with a bittersweet intensity. It was a room that had once been filled with laughter and whispers, a sanctuary where you and Rafe had shared your most intimate moments.

"Do you need any clothes to change into?" Rafe's voice broke the silence, his words a gentle reminder of the bond that still existed between you, despite the distance that had grown between you over the years.

You met his gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for connection that tugged at the edges of your heart.

With a nod, you replied softly, "Yes, please." It was a simple request, a silent invitation for Rafe to bridge the gap between you, to offer you comfort and familiarity in the midst of uncertainty.

As you watched Rafe move towards the dresser, your eyes swept over the room, taking in every familiar detail. It was as if time had stood still in this space, frozen in a moment that seemed to stretch endlessly into the past. The walls adorned with posters and photographs, the dresser cluttered with mementos of a life that felt simultaneously distant and achingly close.

"Here's a shirt and some shorts," Rafe's voice broke through your reverie, drawing your attention back to the present. You turned towards him, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he handed you the clothes.

"Thanks," you replied softly, accepting the garments with a sense of nostalgia. Despite the passage of time, everything felt strangely familiar, as though you had never left this place at all.

As you slipped into the oversized shirt and shorts, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. They may have been too big, but they enveloped you in a sense of familiarity and warmth that felt like coming home.

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you couldn't help but feel a pang of shyness wash over you under Rafe's intense gaze. It was as if he was studying you, his eyes tracing every contour of your face as though trying to memorize every detail.

Turning around to face him as you adjusted the borrowed clothes, you offered him a small smile of gratitude for his gesture. It was a simple exchange, but it spoke volumes of the unspoken bond that still existed between you.

Rafe returned your smile with a small nod, his gaze never wavering from yours. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that lingered between you.

For a moment, you stood there in the quiet intimacy of the room, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. It was as if time had stopped, freezing this moment in eternity as you gazed into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between you.

"So, you and JJ?" Rafe's words broke the silence, causing you to look at him with a hint of shock. His question hung in the air, the weight of its implications settling over you like a heavy blanket.

"Uh... yeah. I guess so," you replied hesitantly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. It was a simple acknowledgment of the truth, yet it carried with it a complexity that belied its simplicity.

Rafe's expression remained unreadable, his gaze steady as he studied you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of emotions that you couldn't quite decipher.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, the air heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tensions. It was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting for the next move in this delicate dance of emotions.

"I can't say I'm shocked," Rafe spoke quietly, his voice carrying a weight of resignation as he avoided meeting your gaze.

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. There was a tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities of your relationship and the emotions that lay beneath the surface.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the hurt evident in his voice, a silent reminder of the consequences of your actions. It was a moment of raw honesty, a fleeting glimpse into the depth of Rafe's emotions.

With a heavy sigh, you searched for the right words to express your remorse. "I'm sorry, Rafe," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. It was a simple apology, but it carried with it the weight of your regrets and the hope for forgiveness.

"I can't really be upset, I mean it's been two years. I don't expect you to be single forever," Rafe's laughter was dry, lacking any semblance of humor.

His words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the passage of time and the inevitability of change. You could sense the undercurrent of pain beneath his attempts at levity, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance.

A pang of guilt washed over you at the realization of the hurt you had caused, the weight of Rafe's words settling heavily on your shoulders. It was a sobering reminder of the consequences of your actions, a recognition of the impact they had on those closest to you.

"I'm sorry for what happened, Rafe," you murmured, your voice laced with regret. It was a feeble attempt to convey the depth of your remorse, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you had caused.

Rafe's expression softened at your apology, a flicker of resignation crossing his features. "It's okay," he replied quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just want you to be happy."

You looked down at Rafe, a pang of guilt piercing through you as you took in the sadness etched on his face. His gaze lingered on the floor, his posture slumped with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Approaching him slowly, you closed the distance until you were standing right before him, his form perched on the edge of the bed. His eyes met yours, a flicker of pain reflected in their depths.

"I never wanted to hurt you, but I know that I did," you began, your voice trembling with emotion. Each word felt like a dagger to your heart, a painful acknowledgment of the mistakes you had made. "I should've never agreed to do what I did, or the stuff with JJ. I... I'll never forgive myself for it. You deserved so much more."

There was a heaviness in the air as the weight of your words settled between you, the silence stretching out into the space around you. It was a moment of raw honesty, a confession laid bare in the dim light of the room. Rafe's gaze softened at your words, a glimmer of understanding shining through the sadness in his eyes.

He shook his head, his eyes still glued to the ground, his voice filled with a mixture of pain and vulnerability. "As pathetic as it sounds, I was never really mad at you for it. I was hurt, but I couldn't stay upset with you. I can't explain it, Y/N. Despite everything that happened, I was willing to look past it just so I could still have you."

Rafe's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his confession settling over you like a shroud. It was a revelation that cut to the core of your being, a silent reminder of the depth of his feelings for you.

"Rafe..." you began, your voice trembling with emotion. But before you could find the right words to respond, he lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity.

"I know it sounds insane, Y/N," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "But I can't pretend that I don't still care about you. Despite everything, you've always had a piece of my heart, and I don't think that will ever change."

Before you could speak, Rafe continued, his voice filled with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability. "And besides, I've made my fair share of mistakes since you left. I'm in no position to act like a saint, or better than you for what happened. I mean, I... I lost myself after you left. Started spiraling. I got into coke more than ever, drank all the time, I even... cheated on Sofia."

You stood up straight at his confession, your eyebrows raised in shock at his admission. The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks, a wave of disbelief washing over you at the depth of his self-destruction.

"You and Sofia were dating?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

"We still are," Rafe admitted awkwardly, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he met your gaze.

His confession hit you like a ton of bricks, leaving you momentarily stunned as you processed the information. You took in a deep breath, the air heavy with the weight of his words, before finally nodding slowly in response.

"Oh... okay," you murmured softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. It was a simple acknowledgment, a quiet acceptance of the truth that had been laid bare before you.

Rafe met your gaze with a mixture of apprehension and regret, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding. He seemed to be grappling with his own emotions, unsure of how you would react to his confession.

"I don't want us to be like this, Y/N. I don't want to have this complicated relationship with you where there's always somebody or something in the way," Rafe confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and frustration.

Before he could continue, you interrupted him with a heavy sigh, your words cutting through the tension that hung between you like a knife.

"Rafe... there is no 'us' anymore," you stated firmly, your voice tinged with sadness. It was a painful truth that you had been avoiding, but one that needed to be said. Rafe's expression fell, his features clouded with disappointment and regret. For a moment, silence stretched between you, the weight of your words settling heavily in the air.

"What… what do you mean?" Rafe's voice was filled with confusion and a hint of desperation as he searched your eyes for answers.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I mean that it's been two years, Rafe," you began, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. "And we're both with different people now."

Rafe's expression faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he masked it with a stoic facade. "I see," he murmured, his voice tinged with resignation.

You continued, your words coming out in a rush as you struggled to convey the depth of your emotions. "Look, I regret the way I ended things with you before and how I treated you," you admitted, your voice tinged with remorse. "But I have to right my wrongs and not make the same mistakes with JJ."

As you spoke, you folded your arms tightly across your chest, unable to meet Rafe's gaze as you bit your lip in a display of vulnerability. It was a painful admission, but one that needed to be said. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of your words settling between you like a heavy blanket. And as you stood there, grappling with the complexity of your emotions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness wash over you.

"Then what was tonight about?" Rafe's voice was laced with confusion as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to convey the complex emotions swirling inside you. "I've been drinking all night, and I just… I'm not gonna lie and say I haven't missed you," you admitted, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "Seeing you again brought back a lot of emotions for me, and I acted on them in the heat of the moment."

Rafe listened quietly as you spoke, his expression unreadable as he processed your words.

"But I can't go down this path with you again, Rafe," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "I already ruined the chance I had with you before, and I can't risk making the same mistakes again." There was a heaviness in the air as the weight of your words settled between you, the silence stretching out into the space around you.

"The door will always be open for you, Y/N," Rafe remarked sincerely, his voice carrying a hint of sternness that conveyed his seriousness. "I don't care if it's been two years or two decades."

His words hung in the air, a silent promise of unwavering support and understanding. Despite the complexities of your relationship, Rafe's sincerity was evident in every word he spoke.

As you met Rafe's gaze, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you, leaving you feeling both overwhelmed and nostalgic. His appearance had changed since you last saw him, his hair now a buzz cut and his body more muscular and rugged. Yet, despite the physical changes, he was still the same boy you had known all those years ago.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and guilt as you looked into his eyes, the weight of your shared history weighing heavily on your shoulders. Memories of the past flooded your mind, each one a reminder of the bond you had once shared with Rafe.

Despite the passage of time, he still looked at you with the same warmth and affection as he had on the first night you met. It was a look that stirred something deep within you, a longing for the simplicity of the past and the comfort of familiar arms.

But amidst the nostalgia, there was also a sense of ache in your chest, a reminder of the pain and heartache that had led you to this moment. You knew that you couldn't dwell on the past, no matter how tempting it may be. The future beckoned, full of uncertainty and possibility, and you knew that you had to face it head-on, no matter how difficult it may be.

"I wish I had never left you like I did," you admitted, the words catching in your throat as you fought back tears. Swallowing hard, you tore your gaze away from Rafe, unable to bear the weight of his gaze as you spoke.

"We could've been so much more," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. The regret in your words was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the missed opportunities and lost chances that had led you to this moment. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions swirling inside you. It was a painful admission, one that laid bare the depth of your remorse and longing for what could have been.

"Please don't cry," Rafe pleaded quietly, his voice filled with tenderness as he reached up to wipe the single tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I hate seeing you cry."

His touch was gentle, a comforting reminder of the bond that still existed between you despite the passage of time. And as you met his gaze, a sense of warmth washed over you, knowing that despite the challenges you faced, Rafe would always be there for you, offering support and understanding, no matter what obstacles lay ahead. With a shaky breath, you reached up to grasp his hand, holding it tightly as if to anchor yourself in the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Rafe," you admitted, tears streaming down your cheeks as you spoke. "I betrayed you, I hurt you so badly, and now I'm betraying JJ too. I just keep making the same mistakes over and over again, and I… I just can't stop. I deserve to be alone."

Rafe's expression softened, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. Gently, he cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him as he spoke.

"Y/N, listen to me, okay? Just listen," he urged, his voice filled with urgency and sincerity. "Stop being so hard on yourself for the past. I forgive you, okay? I'm not mad at you, I don't hate you. So please stop minimizing your worth because of something that happened two years ago."

His words washed over you like a wave, a comforting reminder of the forgiveness and understanding that Rafe offered you, no matter what mistakes you had made in the past. And as you met his gaze, a sense of warmth enveloped you, knowing that despite your flaws and shortcomings, you were still deserving of love and redemption. With a shaky breath, you leaned into Rafe's touch, finding solace in his comforting embrace. It was a silent acknowledgment of the bond that still existed between you.

"But JJ—"

"I can't sit here and say I want you to stay with him and make things right, but I don't want to be the one to put you in an uncomfortable situation either," Rafe interrupted gently, his voice filled with empathy. "So if it's any consolation, I'll never tell him what happened."

His words hung in the air, a silent promise of discretion and understanding. Despite his own conflicted emotions, Rafe was willing to bear the burden of your secret to spare you any further pain.

You met his gaze, a mixture of gratitude and sadness swirling in your eyes. "Thank you, Rafe," you whispered softly, your voice trembling with emotion. It was a simple acknowledgment, but it carried with it the weight of your appreciation for his unwavering loyalty.

"Of course," Rafe reassured you softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed up at you, daring not to look away. By that point, you were standing between his lap, his hands dangerously close to your thighs as you stood before him. The proximity made your body feel hot as shyness crept up on you, his touch so familiar yet so foreign.

"So... what about you and Sofia?" you asked sincerely, your voice gentle as you peered down at him.

Rafe's expression softened at your question, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Sofia and I... are complicated. I don't know what I'm going to do yet," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with resignation.

"Does she make you happy?" you asked bluntly, looking at him with an unreadable expression on your face. The question caught him off guard, especially coming from you.

"I... I don't know," he sighed, his voice heavy with uncertainty. It was a question he had wrestled with himself, one that had kept him awake at night as he grappled with his feelings for Sofia.

You studied his expression carefully, searching for any sign of clarity in his eyes. But all you found was a mixture of confusion and resignation, a reflection of the internal struggle he faced.

"I'm sorry," you murmured softly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand in a silent gesture of comfort. "I didn't mean to pry."

He shook his head gently. "No, it's okay. I understand why you asked."

You offered him a small, appreciative smile, grateful for his understanding. "I just want you to be with someone who makes you happy," you admitted, fiddling with your fingers nervously as you spoke.

Your words seemed to hang in the air between you, the weight of their meaning sinking in. Rafe's gaze softened as he regarded you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he took in the sincerity of your words. For a moment, silence enveloped the room, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric as you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. And as Rafe continued to study your face, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, knowing that your words had opened up a door to a conversation that neither of you had expected.

"Yeah… you too," Rafe replied quietly, his tone indicating that he had much more on his mind than he was letting out. You decided not to press further, respecting his privacy and not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

"I can sleep on the futon if you want," you offered, gesturing towards the nearby piece of furniture.

"No," Rafe interjected, shaking his head. "Sleep on my bed. I'll take the futon."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether it was appropriate to accept his offer. But then you remembered the unspoken bond that existed between you, the silent understanding that had always been there, even in the midst of uncertainty and doubt.

"Are you sure?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was comfortable with the arrangement.

Rafe nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm sure. It's the least I can do."

"Thank you for everything you did tonight, Rafe. I really appreciate it," you said softly, giving him a small smile as you shifted away from him and settled into the bed.

Rafe watched silently as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of the day finally catching up to you. It wasn't hard for you to fall asleep once you had gotten under the covers, the combination of exhaustion and alcohol lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

As he observed you, Rafe couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over him. Seeing you there, in his bed, was a sight he never thought he'd see again. Despite the challenges and uncertainties of the past, you were here now, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for that.

He admired you from the futon, making sure you were fully asleep before he allowed himself to get comfortable and ready for bed. "Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered softly into the quiet of the room, the words carrying a sense of warmth and affection as he settled in for the night. And as he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that despite the complexities of their relationship, you were here, and that was all that mattered.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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[drunkenlionwrites]

People watching

Sorry that I’ve turned the fluffy request into a depressing stream of Vash’s consciousness. Hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless 

After the latest usual brawl and a flee from a small town next to the almost identical neighboring one, their group has ended up stumbling into the small tavern, almost fully packed with patrons. The girls rushed straight to the bar to order water, while Wolfwood had disappeared into the dark street saying he will arrange the hotel booking, since he needs to smoke and ponder about “stuff” as he phrased it. 

That left Vash sitting hunched all alone in the corner. He was weighed by the usual thoughts, that seemed to visit him often these last years since Knives emerged and proceeded with his plans. Vash leaned over the table, the hurt and angry faces of townsfolk of the town which they’ve left in desolation during the shootout with bounty hunters still so vivid in his mind. He did that again. He caused the usual havoc and wreckage to the homes of dozens innocent town dwellers, who were just trying to live their lives. He surely is a humanoid typhoon, isn’t he? 

A cheerful chirping sounds of familiar voice and a small thud of the bourbon bottle accompanied by two glasses being placed in front of him distracted him from his inner voice. He looked up at the intruder and it was you, smiling at him with your oh so warm smile. The same one you’ve usually shown to kids you saw during your travels, to the people you’ve assisted, as well as to people who have helped your group instead. It was broad and a bit crooked at one side, the one who warmed him from the inside just like morning suns would. Not yet scorching hot, but oh so cozily engulfing him after the cold desert night. “Drink with me and let’s go dance!” He heard your exclamation through the noises of clinking glasses, crass conversations, laughter and people dancing to the modest accompaniment of a guitarist and a flute player. He smiled at you reassuringly and then shook his head. “I’m a bit tired, so I’ll just stay here and watch over you, girls. Go and have fun for me okay?” he replied, gently pressing his glass of bourbon to yours in a toast. “I’ll be here drinking for you to have a good night”

He then watched how your small figure deftly maneuvered between tables and sitting people, joining a small crowd gathered on dancing floor. You’ve always been so graceful in your movements, so dexterous yet possessing something soft as well. He observed the way you swayed to the rhythm, soon joined by Millie and Meryl, the three of you sharing laughs and smiles, while engaging in a dance. His eyes darted to the other people dancing beside you. They all were mostly just simple townsfolk having leisure time before returning to their hard jobs the next day. His eyes glided over their faces: drunken, happy, relieved, full of life. 

Vash has always been in awe at how resilient the dwellers of Gunsmoke actually are. He admired the nature of humans, always stiving for happiness and the betterment of their lives, no matter how miniscule and short-lived moments can be. He tried to drown his heavy thoughts in sensory feelings, concentrating on how the tavern was filled with musky smell of sweat, tobacco, cheap booze and hearty vegetable stew some of the patrons were indulging in. The sounds of talking and laughing, the simple melody and people’s rhythmical stomping of feet. The sight of your hair swaying as you danced like there was no bother in your life, Millie’s and Meryl’s drunken uneven steps, even a local boy’s shy smile and neck crooned to face you closer… all this was a nice distraction.

 If you had stayed in this town long enough, he would have gotten to know and remember his name. He would’ve remembered the faces and names of all the people living here. Would’ve known all their little quirks and habits, all the troubles that weigh on their shoulders, everything that makes them laugh and brings them joy. He felt so tired and so disconnected from this world sometimes, yet he knew he still had his mission to accomplish, so he allowed himself to indulge in people watching as it made him feel closer to humanity, closer to something that he might’ve described as a feeling of belonging somewhere. But did he really? Belong somewhere...

He watched as you laughed at something the boy told you, accepting his offer to dance, as you eagerly put your hand in his. Would it have been better if it was his hand instead? Would you have smiled at him with the same smile? Or would it have been more…tender instead? Would he have been able to tug your hair behind your ear neatly instead of this boy?

It doesn’t matter in the end, since he will always walk this planet alone. At least he can watch over you while you walk next to him, no matter how short-lived it is. It better be short. It better be…since all of you cannot stay close to him after all is said and done. But he’ll think about it tomorrow. Tonight is all about people watching, after all.

[remersgf]

I saw that requests are open... Perhaps you could write a drable of Remer taking care of a drunk reader who's kinda sad and teary eyed and keeps telling him how much they love him? (Also your other writting pieces are really good I'm still re-reading some of them :DD)

thank u for this request it’s so cute i love it😭

doug remer x (implied)fem!reader

1k words

cw: alcohol, being drunk, SAPPY!!!

enjoy :)

“douuugguhhhh” 

you slurred as you knocked on the door of your boyfriend’s house. it was around 2ish, 3ish? you stopped paying attention hours ago. you and your friends had their weekly ‘going-out’ night, and by the end of it, you were craving the warm embrace of the tall-ass man you loved so dearly. that’s how you found yourself here; standing barefoot on remer and coop’s doorstep, heels in hand, and tears threatening to drop from your eyes.

remer opened the door, greeted with your teary-eyed drunk stature, and furrowed his brows at you. “y/n? what are you doing here? come in…” he said, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in and closing the door behind you with the other.

you buried your face in his chest, dropping your heels and clutching onto his sweatshirt. you let the tears fall without caring anymore, crying into him. he hugged you back and smoothed out your messy hair with a gentle hand. 

“douuug” you weep, “love you s’muchhh,” tears now soaking his clothes.

“what’s wrong? did something happen at the bar? talk to me, baby.” he said, concern and panic laced in his tone.

“n-nothin’. just missed you, thas’ all…” sniffling, you bring your head up to look into his eyes. 

“aww, hon. you missed me that bad?” he grinned. 

“shutnnup. missed my sweetie-pie” you babbled in between sniffles, pinching his cheek.

he cringed at your nickname for him, lightly swatting your hand away from his face. remer wiped the tears and running mascara from your under eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead shortly after. 

“jesus, y/n, how much did you drink? you smell like robert downy jr.…” 

“a lot.” you smiled lazily at him with half-lidded eyes.

“figured. let’s get you cleaned up, i’m assuming you wanna sleepover?” he asked, swaying you gently in his arms.

“please.”

he led you to his room, sitting you down at the end of his bed. you watched him rifle through his messy closet, picking out his shirts sweatshirt, and a pair of his (thankfully) clean boxers for you to wear as shorts. 

“need help…” you murmur, reaching behind you sloppily and trying to unzip your tight dress unsuccessfully. 

he motions for you to stand up and he unzips your dress, letting the straps slide off your arms and fall to the floor. holding your hands, he helps you step out of the fabric. he also unclips your bra for you, dropping it once he finally gets the clasp to disconnect. he’s always so gentle with you in times like these; replacing his usual silly self with a much calmer, caretaker-like personality. he always ends up babying you, even if he’s drunk himself, and you love it. it’s exactly what you need in those moments. 

you slip his sweatshirt over your head and slide on his boxers, rolling the waistband up a few times so they wouldn’t fall down. when you had finished dressing, you couldn’t help noticing remer looking at you with heart-eyes.

“you look so cute, all dressed up in my clothes.” he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“i look just like you, you narc.”

“no, you don’t! you’re missing a couple feet” he laughs.

“thas’ not funny.” 

“yes, it is, dwarf. let me fix your face” he says, slipping away into the bathroom and coming back with a wet washcloth.

he wipes away your eye makeup first, the roughness of the towel making you whine. he moves on to the rest of your face, being sure to remove the mascara that ran down to your neck. 

“all better?” he asks.

“would be better if i had moisturizer, i feel like a piece of cardboard. i never understood why boys don’t use that stuff.”

“hand lotion works just fine for me.”

you stare at him blankly in disbelief as he stares back oblivious. he throws the washcloth in his hamper and doesn’t bat an eye at you. when he pulls you into another tight hug, your tears start again. he surrounds you, and your heart feels like it’s bursting with adoration. 

“y/n, why are you crying?” he cooed, “i’m right here. i gotcha,” squeezing your sides to emphasize his point. 

“i’mm love youuu..” you manage to say into his chest in between sad heaves for air.

“i know, honey. ‘i’m’ love you, too.” 

you stand there crying into him, hugging his torso for what felt like hours in your head. he let you get your tears out, softly rubbing your back and swaying you back n forth. after a while your breaths synced and your tears stopped, basking in the peaceful quiet.

“do… you have any tortillas?” you sniffle, looking up at him with a frown.

“you just want… one tortilla?” 

“can you get me two?” 

“of… course. yeah, i’ll be back” he replied, leaving to retrieve your precious tortillas. 

he comes back hastily with tortillas, two glasses of water, and a couple of painkillers for you to wake up to in the morning. you crawl into his bed, getting yourself comfy, and remer hands you a glass and your food. he climbs in next to you, squeezing up close and quietly observing your weak demeanor as you eat.

halfway through your second tortilla, you nearly fall asleep chewing. he slowly takes the rest out of your hands, mildly scared you were gonna bite his hand or something. he also takes your water glass, putting it on the floor next to the bed. you feel your eyes closing all the way, unconsciousness enveloping you in its warm embrace. remer carefully gets up, not wanting to wake you, and turns off the lights. he stands awkwardly in the dark silence and finishes your half-eaten tortilla before returning to you. what a strange man. 

scooting in back next to you, he holds you in his arms and pecks your shoulder, whispering an ‘i love you’ before falling asleep himself.  

[equationsoff]

@theseance444 + ask

alcohol creates a disconnect within him. a blanket of disassociation away from the traumatic experiences he'd gone through and the murders he'd committed. plus he had spent the better part of thirty years drinking as it was the only safe drink left when nothing else survived.

but tonight? he had wanted to not feel. just for five fucking minutes. sure, he'd feel it in the morning when the hangover kicked in but right now he's feeling pretty good.

" fucking chair. " he mutters as he knocks over the chair and nearly faceplants the table. klaus is swaying somewhat. or is it him?

" biker bar...they don't give a shit about serving underage and if i wanna fight they're game. i think i stole one of their bikes. " he giggles with a slight hiccup. " now it's in the river. think the insurance won't cover that. "

[bigslutr]

Rory Toll

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

How y'all met<3 (This is also in Rory's Pov<3)

My thumb hovered over the call button staring at the pink heart by her name, then I pressed the call button with a sigh and put it up to my ear. The phone rang once, twice, a third time, but then the call disconnected once again making me groan.

“Stop ignoring me Vickey” I whispered through gritted teeth.

My thumb hovered over the call button, staring at the pink heart by her name. With a sigh, I pressed it and put the phone to my ear. The ringing was familiar once, twice, a third time and then the call disconnected. Again.

"Stop ignoring me, Vickey," I muttered through gritted teeth, gripping the phone tighter before tossing it onto the passenger seat. The screen flickered before it dimmed out completely. The weight of the gold necklace around my neck, the heart-shaped charm engraved with a ‘V,’ felt heavier than usual.

I stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against the bare skin exposed by the silk navy dress clinging to my body. The bass from the nightclub pulsed through the ground, vibrating up through my heels as I made my way toward the entrance. Inside, the noise was overwhelming, just what I needed. A sea of bodies swayed to the music, each person lost in their own world.

Perfect.

I made my way to the bar, ordering a whiskey neat. The bartender slid the glass across the counter, and I took a sip, scanning the room. My fingers absentmindedly touched the necklace, the ‘V’ a constant reminder of the one thing I couldn’t have tonight.

That’s when I saw her.

She was at the far end of the bar, sitting alone, her eyes tired, her posture tense. Her phone was clenched tightly in her hand, and she glanced at it every few seconds like it was some lifeline. The drink in front of her looked untouched, and she was gathering her things, clearly getting ready to leave.

No, not yet.

I picked up my glass and walked over to her, standing just close enough to get her attention. “You look like you could use something stronger than whatever’s waiting for you at home,” I said, my voice low enough to cut through the noise but still hold her attention.

She looked up, startled. Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She blinked, glancing back down at her phone. “I, uh… I have to get home. My boss is already breathing down my neck about these papers.” She let out a short, anxious laugh. “If I don’t get them done tonight, I’m screwed.”

I smiled, leaning on the bar beside her. “Forget your boss. You only live once, right? A pretty thing like you could land a job anywhere if you wanted.”

She paused, her eyes flicking between me and the exit, clearly torn.

“I mean,” I continued, taking another sip of my whiskey, “what’s one night off? Stay a little longer. You look like you need it.”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself. I could see the hesitation, the pull between obligation and the temptation of letting go, just for a few hours.

“I really can’t,” she finally said, though her voice lacked conviction. “I’m already behind as it is.”

I tilted my head, giving her a soft smile, not too pushy. “At least let me walk you out. It’s late, and it wouldn’t sit right with me if something happened to you.”

She hesitated again before finally nodding. “Alright. Just to the door.”

Together, we walked out into the cool night, the music still thumping from inside the club. I pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with practiced ease, offering one to her, which she politely declined.

“So,” I asked, taking a drag, “what’s so urgent that you’re running off at this hour? Boss can’t survive without you?”

She smiled faintly, rubbing her arms as if trying to shake off the chill. “Yeah, something like that. It’s been… a long week.”

I exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it swirl up into the night air. “Maybe you should stop worrying so much about people who don’t appreciate you as much as they should.”

She glanced at me, intrigued by the sudden shift in conversation. “And you? What about you?”

I smirked, taking another drag before dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath my heel. “Let’s just say I’m familiar with being taken for granted.”

The air between us grew heavy for a moment, the unspoken stories we both carried lingering between us like the smoke I’d just exhaled.

“Think about it,” I said softly, stepping closer but not intrusively. “You deserve a break. Come with me. One drink, one night, and I promise you’ll feel better.”

She shifted on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I… really shouldn’t,” she murmured, but her voice wavered, the weight of her exhaustion dragging the words down.

I could feel her hesitation cracking, the responsibility she clung to slowly giving way to something else—temptation, curiosity, maybe even the need for escape. I leaned in slightly, keeping my tone soft, almost conspiratorial.

“One drink,” I repeated, my eyes holding hers. “You don’t have to be anywhere tonight, not really. The world’s not going to end if you take a few hours for yourself.”

She looked down at the ground, then back up at me, her lips pressing into a thin line as if she was debating it in her head. Her eyes softened, and that’s when I knew I had her.

“Fine. One drink,” she said, the words barely louder than a sigh.

I smiled, a slow, satisfied smile, and gestured back toward the bar. “Good choice.”

We walked back inside, the pulsing music and flashing lights swallowing us again. The bartender raised an eyebrow as we approached, but I gave a nod. “Whiskey for me,” I said, then turned to her. “What’ll it be?”

“Vodka tonic,” she replied, almost absentmindedly, her eyes scanning the room as if to make sure she wasn’t doing something dangerous.

I watched her as she took a seat at the bar, her back straight but her hands resting on the counter, fingers tracing invisible patterns in the wood. There was something fragile about her, something that made her seem… breakable. I didn’t know her story, didn’t know what had her so wound up, but I could tell she was just like me. Trying to hold it together.

The bartender slid her drink over, and she picked it up with both hands, taking a small sip. I watched her relax, if only slightly, the drink loosening the tension in her shoulders.

“So,” I started, leaning back against the bar and watching her, “what’s your name?”

She looked up at me, blinking as if she’d forgotten I was there for a moment. “Y/N,” she said quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the music.

I smiled. “Y/N. Nice to meet you. I’m Rory.”

She smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I could see something weighing on her, something she wasn’t saying. “So, Rory,” she began, swirling the liquid in her glass, “what’s your story? You don’t exactly look like you’re here to dance.”

I chuckled softly, taking a sip of my whiskey. “Let’s just say I needed a break. Work’s been... relentless.”

Her eyes flickered with understanding. “I know the feeling.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, just sat there with our drinks, lost in our own thoughts. The music thumped around us, but it felt distant, like the world had faded away for just a second.

“Ever feel like… no matter how much you do, it’s never enough?” she asked, breaking the silence.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. “More often than I care to admit,” I replied, leaning in a little closer, intrigued by her sudden vulnerability.

She glanced at me, her lips curling into a small, bitter smile. “Yeah. Me too.”

I studied her, the way her fingers nervously traced the rim of her glass, the way her eyes darted around the room like she was constantly on edge. She was hiding something, but whatever it was, I didn’t need to know. Not right now.

“You know,” I said after a pause, “we could make tonight about forgetting all that. Just for a few hours.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t say anything. I took that as a good sign.

“You work hard, right?” I pressed, my tone gentle. “You deserve more than just running back to your boss and those papers. Trust me, all of that will still be waiting for you tomorrow. But tonight… tonight’s yours.”

She hesitated again, her fingers tightening around her glass. “I don’t know,” she said softly, almost to herself.

I leaned in closer, my voice lowering, teasing. “Come on. What’s the worst that could happen? You’re already here.”

Her lips twitched, like she was holding back a smile, but she shook her head. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Well,” I said, raising my glass, “there’s a first time for everything.”

She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself, then downed the rest of her drink in one go. I watched her, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

“Alright, Rory,” she said, standing up and grabbing her bag, “one more drink. But that’s it.”

I grinned, following her as we made our way back to the bar. “That’s all I’m asking.”

As the night wore on, the drinks kept coming, and the conversations grew looser, more candid. Y/N relaxed more, opening up piece by piece, though I could tell she was still holding something back. I didn’t push too hard. Not yet.

But as I watched her laugh at something I said, her guard finally slipping, I couldn’t help but think—this was just the beginning.

The night slipped by faster than either of us expected. Drink after drink, the distance between Y/N and me shrank until the space was barely there. We sat close now, our conversation flowing with an easy rhythm that only comes when you’ve had just enough to feel bold.

I glanced at her as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips parting in a soft laugh at something I said. There was something about the way she smiled, a kind of quiet exhaustion mixed with relief, like she hadn’t let herself unwind like this in ages.

I could see the shift in her posture now, the tension from earlier melting away. That’s when I leaned in, my voice low, teasing. “You know… we don’t have to stop here.”

She looked at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said, resting my hand lightly on her arm, “we could go back to mine. No more noise, no more distractions. Just us.”

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty for a brief second, but I could see the temptation already blooming there. I’d worked my way in, slowly, carefully, until the idea was too appealing to resist.

“Rory, I…” she hesitated, biting her lip, “I really shouldn’t.”

I smiled, softening my tone. “Come on. One night. You’ve already spent the evening with me. What’s the harm in ending it somewhere quieter?” I paused, locking eyes with her. “I promise, no pressure. We can just talk.”

She exhaled, her resolve cracking. “Okay. Fine. One night.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, hesitant but playful.

“Good.” I downed the last of my whiskey, standing up and holding out my hand. “Let’s go.”

The drive back to my place was silent, but not uncomfortable. Y/N sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window as the city lights blurred past us. I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken expectation of what was to come.

By the time we reached my apartment, we both knew where the night was headed. The air inside felt different—thick with the kind of anticipation that sent a shiver down my spine.

She followed me inside, her steps careful, as if part of her still wasn’t sure. I turned, catching her eyes, and smiled. “Make yourself comfortable,” I said, gesturing toward the plush couch.

Y/N sat down, glancing around the room. I could see her trying to take it all in, still slightly guarded despite the alcohol that had loosened her up earlier.

I moved closer, sitting next to her, my hand brushing lightly against hers. There was no need for words now. Slowly, deliberately, I leaned in, my lips finding hers in a kiss that deepened as the moment unfolded.

The night passed in a blur of touch and heat. It wasn’t hurried, but it wasn’t gentle either. Y/N matched my intensity, and for a little while, the world outside ceased to exist. The worries she had about her boss, the thoughts I couldn’t stop about Vickey—all of it faded into the background.

When it was over, the room was quiet again, save for the soft sound of our breathing. Y/N lay beside me, her eyes closed, her body relaxed in the aftermath of our connection. But my mind wasn’t as still.

I stared up at the ceiling, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the gold heart necklace I hadn’t taken off in months. It pressed against my skin, a constant reminder of the woman I couldn’t let go. Vickey. The thought of her stirred something deep inside me—something bitter and twisted.

But as I glanced over at Y/N, asleep beside me, her face soft and peaceful in the dim light, I realized something.

I didn’t feel the same ache I used to. That gnawing pain of needing Vickey, of obsessing over what I’d lost… it wasn’t as sharp anymore. It was still there, lingering, but quieter now. Faded.

I sat up slowly, careful not to wake Y/N, and reached for my phone on the nightstand. My finger hovered over Vickey’s name in my contacts, the heart next to it taunting me. I had called her so many times, hoping she’d answer, hoping for something—anything—that would make me feel like she still needed me. But she never did.

Tonight was different. As I stared at her name, a strange sense of clarity washed over me. I didn’t need her. Not anymore.

With a deep breath, I hit delete. The name disappeared, the heart vanished, and with it, the last tether I had to her.

For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the blank screen. Then, without thinking, I reached up and unclasped the necklace. The cool metal slid off my neck easily, falling into my palm. The weight of it felt heavier than before, and yet, at the same time, lighter.

I stared at the engraved ‘V’ one last time, running my thumb over the familiar shape, before setting it down on the nightstand next to my phone.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I lay back down, my body sinking into the mattress. Y/N shifted slightly beside me but didn’t wake. As I closed my eyes, a strange sense of peace settled over me.

For the first time in a long time, I felt free.

Also I wont be writing for Nicole the person I made the oc with isn't answering me at all so I assume they maybe dont want me to use Nicole anymore?

[jemshopes]

I’ve Found You, Dearest [taegi]

you ever think about fae yoongi, who, before he was even born, had been promised in marriage to the tyrant king of the fae realm? to protect him from his fate, he's hidden in the human world, given to a family who were unable to have children of their own. and so he grows up, ignorant of his heritage, of any magic, for that matter. he's beautiful, people always remark on it in wonder. he doesn't look like his parents, they say. how on earth did they managed to produce such a handsome boy when they're both so homely?

but he grows up well. happy. he's magnetic. people can't help but be drawn to him, thus he's never short of friends. and the affinity he has with music is nothing short of enchanting. reality stops when he plays, when he sings. and when he dances... oh, how he dances. there's no one else in the room when he dances. surrounded by people that might as well not exist, he sways on the dance floor beneath the lights that paint his skin a hundred different hues. no human can ever find words to describe his grace, his poise, the ease he's at within his own skin.

and yet... while yoongi is happy, he knows something is missing. he can feel the disconnect between himself and everyone else. it's not that he realises he's different. far from it, in fact. he believes he's entirely ordinary. but he feels something is missing all the same. even when he's happy, even when he falls in love, when he laughs with his friends. 

at first, when he realises his preference for both genders, he thinks that might have been what was missing. but the feeling stays. then, when he first falls in love, he thinks that might have been what was missing. but the feeling doesn't go away. the only time he forgets it is when he pours himself into his music, when he dances in clubs, when he performs here and there at bars.

his friends complain when he suggests they do karaoke. you just want to show off. you'll upstage us all. but they still go with him whenever he asks. and that is the only time he's truly felt complete connection with them--with anyone--when they're singing together, dancing.

or, at least, he thought it was complete until the night he meets taehyung, their eyes locking from across the crowded dance floor. at first, they only watch each other, yoongi still half in his own world, taehyung leaning against the bar.

he doesn't realise he's moving toward taehyung until he's right in front of him, breathless and wide-eyed. taehyung is different. he can feel it and it's not just because of the alcohol buzzing in his veins. it's not his imagination. taehyung is different and he can't explain it. when taehyung moves, when taehyung smiles, when taehyung talks, when they stumble into yoongi's apartment later that night, tongue and teeth and roaming hands, it's different and he doesn't know why. when taehyung lowers him onto the bed, when their clothes come off, he touches yoongi so carefully. not in the shy way other people touch him, in awe of him for reasons he still can't grasp. not in the clumsy, inept way of the inexperienced.

he isn't sure he's ever had sex and felt so completely like someone understood him. there's always something, too gentle, too hard, an unwelcome bite, too much tongue, not enough, doing everything right and yet still missing some spot even yoongi can't explain how to find.

it's not that the sex wasn't good or great or amazing. it's just... not this. not taehyung. and he realises, in the moment his back arches and he swears he sees shimmering gold in the air around them, that the disconnect he's felt for so many years has vanished.

it's not just the sex. it's taehyung's laugh, the way they talked effortlessly, the way he smelled, the love they shared for music. it's everything. it's complete connection. and he's never felt so at home.

the next day he wakes up to find his apartment empty, the only trace of taehyung the lingering smell of him on yoongi's skin and a note penned in scrawling gold on the inside of his wrist.

i found you, dearest. now find me.

***

Although yoongi doesn’t know it, the tyrant king has finally found him.

[stabbysideblog]

Father Second

“I don’t understand why you care what he thinks about you, he doesn’t even know enough not to shit his own pants.” Scam poured you another shot reaching for an additional glass that you take from his hands. He pouts, producing a box of juice and drinking that instead. 

“He’s my kid, we chose to be his dads. We are going to raise him and try to not fuck him up. Which you should understand all things considered.” You pick at your nails the bit of crusted blood flaking off onto the bar. 

“Oh this?” Scam lifted his stomach until it was resting on the table, a fleshy almost disconnected lump from the rest of him”Jeez you get pregnant once and all of a sudden there’s no fun allowed.” He leans back his stomach snapping back in place like a tape measure. “Besides I don’t even know if I care about the little shit yet. What if it doesn’t like scams and japers?” His eyebrows raise in an expression of mock concern.

You down the shot, the heat of it sliding from your throat to your veins, you squeeze the small glass before setting it down with a thud. “It’s not supposed to be conditional.”

“Except?”

“Except for me. Except for us.” You lean over the small bar grabbing a bottle of beer Terry had long-since forgotten behind it. “I can just leave and I won’t die-” You pause to flip the cap off, chucking it in the general direction of a trash can “Physically. He can’t for a really long time. So I can be as fucked up as I am and he can’t leave me. Until he can.” Your hand tightens on the bottle swirling the dark liquid inside. 

“So let me get this straight. You raise him and then if he thinks you did a bad job he leaves?”

You take a long drink from the bottle holding off your answer as long as possible. “Yes. And I want to avoid that so I have to hold all this.” You wave your hands at yourself, flecks of dirt coming off you with the motion. You were a mess still unkempt from the last mission that saw all of you crawling on the ground to take out an entire mine of doodlerized workers. “In.” You glance at Scam who has the expression of someone who thinks you're a complete idiot with extra mouths to seal in the smug expression. 

You finish the bottle and roll your eyes. “Whatever, I don't know why I thought you’d understand.” You turn to move off the seat when he’s next to you, hands on your shoulders, giving you another bottle, and resting on the bar in front of you. The effect is that you feel caged his mass restraining without force. You snatch the bottle from his hand. 

“Grant G-man buddy calm down I hear you. You’re scared that you’ll spread whatever is wrong with you to your child because you’re a fucked up asshole who likes hurting people. And then he will realize that you did that and leave you forever and ever” His words slam into you, they weren’t wrong but hearing someone else say them made your stomach turn. Not to mention how calmly he said it, like the morning paper or a fact of life. Your hands itched, you needed to do something to be out of this. 

“Step away from me.” Scam cocked his head 12 degrees too far leaning closer to you. His many eyes looking into yours unblinking. 

“Was I right?” 

Your blood boiled turning to electricity. His typically cavalier expression flips to one of fear and he puts his hands up. You shove him away and get up only swaying slightly when you’re on your feet. Your emotions burn white hot and you consider yelling at the entity. Instead you mutter “Do me a favor and fuck off.” and leave. You didn’t bother to look back as you head to the range. 

[brooklynislandgirl]

╰(*´︶`*)╯: Do they appreciate hugs? Would they prefer to give hugs or receive hugs? What kind of hugs do they like to receive and/or give?

Body and Soul || Accepting {{ @nolegacies for reasons}}

Boy looms. Even taller than Mountain ~which is impressive in and of itself~ there seems a sort of disconnect with the long, scrawny limbs. His shoulders are nearly perpetually hunched. When he walks he sways. And when he and Girl are in the same room? They gravitate toward each other. Pulled by invisible forces into one another's orbits never more than the span of two arms away. Most of the time it's not even that. There are triggers, of course. Right now it was one of the stock boys dropping a box in the storeroom, but the echo is a loud and sharp rapport. Boy and Girl, sitting by the fire and communicating silently as they do with the occasional flutter of fingers, head shakes and nods, or simply long stares the other seems to understand perfectly, perhaps not unlike Ron and his twin in their earliest youth. Whatever it is they were about is shattered in an instant and the reaction is born of terror, pure and simple. Boy shifts his arms and legs around to encompass the sylph that is Girl, drawing her into his chest. Her arms come up to wrap around his neck, hands spreading around his head to ward off whatever may come. In any other circumstance they could be taken for young lovers caught in the throes of a blisteringly passionate embrace. To anyone who did not hear the Boy's whimper. To anyone who could not see the shaking of their bodies in full tremble. Who did not see the subtle flash of colour that was too quick to even describe as Girl shifted over him. Ron isn't just anyone. He's seen the way Girl tends to hug one of the dogs when both are comfortable with such a thing. How Boy wends himself around her from behind and she leans into his warmth and stature. She hesitates to take whatever little treat Ron puts on the bar for her if his hand is too close. How she tends to pull herself tightly together whenever it seems she might make contact with anyone else. When nothing terrible follows the sound except for a quick call of apology, it still takes a few moments before the two young mutants manage to quell their fear enough to untangle from one another. She flashes an accusatory gaze toward the kitchen door as they pick up as silently as they'd settled. Hand in hand, they edge their way toward the stair that will take them up to the small room Ron's afforded them. The only thing spoken is that she pauses and brings her fist up to her chest making a clockwise circular motion. I'm sorry.

~*~

Girl does not really enjoy physical contact with other human beings. She and Boy have been together for so long, they are so comfortable with each other that any touch shared between them is part of their raising, part of their incredible bond, and when seen…everything is tender. Even when they are in disagreement which is in and of itself rare, he might coil his fingers around her wrist, or put a hand under her chin to lift it but there is no violence between them. If pressed to answer, she would prefer to be the one initiating a hug. It would be stilted and brief but it would be of her own choosing. She does not speak of her aversion but Ron at least has an inkling as to why. Boy knows. Boy keeps her secrets.

[grim-faux]

3 _ 29 _ Somewhere in Transmission

First - An Echo Rebounds Through the Silent City

Rain splattered the patio doors facing the waterlogged pocket of land, where the corralled marsh lay strangled by aggressive vines and weeds set loose by inattention. The home was a suitable enough diversion from the typical vertical residences and offices dominating the territory of the Pale City. However, these individual dwellings remained unreliable terrain to seclude within, sitting as an isolated dollop and easily accessible by intruders at the first hint of negligence.

Likewise, the child was not at ease in these solitary pockets. At least twice while patrolling, the Thin Man observed the flutter of movement disappear into a break in a walls paneling, only to emerge elsewhere shortly after. It appeared the boy's range of movement was limited just as the building was, stranded to its eroding acreage and sagging over its battered foundation.

Across the walls of the shelter, fierce galls heaved with tremendous fury. Upon the initial arrival, silt and tinder drifted from the ceiling like flakes of ash from a burning… building. The Thin Man certified the structure would not sway nor threaten its occupant during his period here; he didn’t need to get stranded in another collapse. Still, the winds rallied against the dwelling, challenging the demand of the Broadcaster.

Through the short scrutiny, the Thin Man evaluated the layout of furnishings and the forgotten pieces of the former inhabitants. He did speculate that in the beginning, there were residents of the city aware of what was happening before the Tower became the world. That much was becoming apparent. This evidence was as elusive as was whatever intuition they divulged of the unfolding events, just as was any practical information they might've scrawled down before madness consumed them. Or, the transmission which dragged away the fleshy vessels. Not organic, just the flesh.

Perhaps it was that the children knew. The world was ever and would always be a hostile place, and the children always had to be more perceptive of the threats. He paused in a room with vibrant speek, charcoal marks scratched into the walls and floor around a toppled dresser. The usual warning of the Signal Tower, the Eye.

A shady silhouette with a stylish hat.

Much of the furniture throughout the dwelling remained intact, despite being out of place. A flooding could have breached the gaping portals, the doorways barred only by planks of wood and heaps of newspaper. Much of the outside environment such as weeds and leaves established the quant shelter as there’s, and a tree branch tore out an upstairs window. In his aimless patrol, he wondered where the televisions came from. One in the main living area was smashed, while the other two he had locked away in spare rooms. Out of reach, thus beyond care.

The child was not yet calmed from his wonderings. As always, the boy is off with his tireless antics. This time however, the little fragment seemed more aloof and detached. He vanished the instant the Thin Man flittered by a doorway, but the tall thin man could still grasp that connecting with the transmission. Ever present, always nagging. The child poked around in walls or scurried in the shadows - never satisfied and inconsolable. Tedious thing. Hopefully, when presented with some real food, the boy would revert to foraging through cabinets, rather than scrambling after animals. Sigh.

For the time the Thin Man stayed still and reflected on the Tower. Its placement in this world, they’re his  connection to it, and what evading certain laws could mean. And his prolonged existence. When he could, he preferred to not trouble over the damned thing. One fact he should not neglect, he was never completely disconnected from the Signal, and to extent the Flesh. Though he and that boy could utilize the transmission with minimal disturbance to its Host, the loathsome beast found other ways to agitate him. The recent aggression of the Viewers was clear indication, a sliver of persuasion to encourage his return. Or else....

D̶͍̩̪̙̏É̶̡͖͈̮͋͠A̵̝̙͊̊͝Ŗ̷͕̮͎̮̇̇ ̵̹̃ ̴̻͚͒̀͂͜͝ ̵̻͓̝͔̿͗̏C̴̟̖̱̬͌̀͆̀̏H̵̝͉̤͆I̴͉͓̒Ḽ̶͕̦̳͑͊̐̕ͅD̸̢͇̖͓͛̈͂

He was not keen on leaving the boy in the same room with a television, due to the ever brazen conduct of the Viewers. If he let one television alone nearby, but far from the boy's location, that should satiate the greedy adoration of those Denizens to the Signal. Should. The Thin Man debated the practicality of that, given the laps in viewership among a sum of pods. Even he was having an issue with staving off their fascination, regardless the proximity of a television - a STACK of televisions. They always had been clingy.

He was aware the boy was nearby. But, did not expect the sudden pressure upon his hand. The abruptness startled the Thin Man enough to wince, and he peered a small fraction from the edge of his eye. Smitten by the reaction, the child retreated by a foot but held his ground, his new hat tipped sideways. The skittish thing crouched on the nightstands corner, which leaned into the end of the lounge seat, where the Thin Man slouched across. Reclining his back or lying at any angle still felt unnatural. Thus, he sprawled to a degree and leaned on the crumbling nightstand, where his hand was currently 'attacked'.

When no further reaction came from the assault, the child shook his coat and retaliated. The boy fell upon the Thin Man’s fingers – he’s not certain what the child's goal was – the short arms fought to pin his digits between his knees and arms. Again, with lack of insight to what the child sought to achieve, the Thin Man easily brushed him off with a flick of his hand. He shifted his wrist closer to the side of the armrest and curled his hand into a fist.

The boy was not dissuaded. As before, the ‘weight’ collided with his fist. This time, the growling child pried at his knuckles and digits. Under extreme frustration the savage was prone to biting, but he was struggling with his mission in a polite and diplomatic way. The Thin Man let his hand relax by a fraction, which allowed the child to liberate two of his fingers from their iron lock.

Throughout this drama, the Thin Man observed from the corner of his eye, as if he was not present at all in the scenario. Even so, every so often the child would cast a glance his way, checking for changes in mood or a mounting threat. If the boy was not careful, this could be a very dangers game.

And like that, as the boy worked to unfurl a thumb, the hand popped open. The child suppressed a gasp as he sprang to the edge of the table, but halted and huddled low. Waiting. Glistening eyes intently watching the hand. Even the Thin Man was curious to what might occur next. Would the boy deem his antics too risky and abandon completely? Or, would he chance another attack?

In the terse stillness the rain drummed through the home, and the whisper of water gurgled within hidden cracks. Then, a new sound. The rhythmic prowl of fingers tinkling on the rough furniture. It wasn’t the Thin Man’s preferred activity, it was a habit he’d undertaken in the Tower on his bad days. With the backdrop of rain twittering, it was not so distressing.

He anticipated the boy to launch another attack, but he’s surprised. The child flopped onto his side and peered intently at his hand, as if the fingers have done a mystical trick. One arm he outstretched and prattled tiny fingers along the grain of wood, in no dignified manner. The Thin Man paused in the refined sound of his organized tempo, to tap his fingers back.

They did this back and forth for a short spell. The boy patting or rattling his soft digits on the wood, and the Thin Man repeating back. Up until the masterful conductor resumed the steady roll, but more softly. In that time, the child had stretched out to his fullest on his stomach, with the tips of his fingers nearly at the Thin Man’s fingertips. It became apparent he was trying to get the knack for the trick, but getting his individual fingers coordinated was a different matter. Eventually, he did manage to catch the reflexive motion, and got his dominant hand to ripple off in near sequence to the Thin Man’s dainty rap.

When the child’s head lolled to the side and his hand began to slack, the Thin Man stopped and gave the boy a look. He raised his hand, and in the next second the boy was wide awake with round eyes. The child cringed back, stuffing his arms up beneath his chest. He doesn’t manage to coordinate his muddled body or mind in time, before the Thin Man pressed his fingers between the narrow shoulder blades. The boy goes stiff as the Thin Man nudged at his back, forcing him to lie back down. The child remained tense and shivering, fists knotted beside his head.

The Thin Man was unconcerned. In short time, the steely coil of the shoulders unwound and a little whine crooned out of the child. If the boy really wanted to get away or felt threatened, he would have been prone to teleport. Though, the Thin Man remained uncertain to his capabilities. At times the boy became ensnared with an obstacle that could have been solved safely by a static leap, but failed to utilize the skill correctly, if at all. The issue was of concentration and panic, wherein the boy defaulted to his usual skills – comfort abilities – to deliver him from certain peril.

After all, he did not have to fall when S̶̯̾h̷̙͒e̸̻̋ let go. Perhaps this child did not understand that then, in the same way the Thin Man – when he was the child – did not think to chase H̸̖͝e̸͙͋ȓ̷̦ after she discarded him to the Towers rolling laughter.

This little trap took some time to set up, yet it was worth it. Getting the boy to sit still remained a corny drama, and snaring the child to soothe him into slumber a nefarious challenge. Now, the child was asleep, a brief success. That’s all the boy needed, just some rest. After the numerous failed exercises to unlock some capacity and consistency behind the child's abilities, they could both use the reprieve. The entire performance was shoddy, even with the Thin Man's tampering - with some naïve aim to coerce more aptitude from the child. The objective was going nowhere. It exhausted him. It demoralized him.

Try and try with all his might, the child had shown no potential - far from what he knew the boy should be capable of. And every time he tried to encourage him, or give him a push, the child looked at him like he was the fiend. As if he committed the most repugnant crime.

Perhaps. Perhaps if at all possible, this boy knew more than he understood. Now that was a speculation. What could this mere child suspect of their connection, which wouldn’t sound ludicrous? Above all else, the Thin Man was rational... as a child, and as a friend. It wasn’t until he was posed against the man in the hat, wherein he delved deep into that forbidden strength and dispelled his elder. That day he became whole, and mere moments later, he shattered.

Another murmuring coo escaped the boy, as he supplied more pressure with his fingertips. It was odd how this child surrendered so easily. The center of the coat had creased and wrinkled terribly, but the child didn't care. Nothing in this world mattered to him. No more goals, no more single-minded ambition. The boy lay like a minnow getting rolled out for a fisherman's hook (it was a gory program, of how to properly hook a child for bass fishing). Not that this boy cared.

"Ị̶̌t̷͉͑ ̷̘͝ W̷̖̓ḯ̷̩l̸̳͒l̴̗̂ ̶̢͋ Ả̷̭l̶̖͂l̸͍̋ ̸̰́ C̶̝̽o̵̩͂m̵̞̏ë̵͎́ ̶̭̽ T̵͕́ǫ̷͆ ̷̞͋ Y̷̯͋ǫ̶͛ù̴̞,̸̞̈ ̸̼͊ W̶͈̎h̶̖͐e̷̹̕n̶͍͌ ̵̮̒ Y̴̖̋ő̵̖ǘ̶̱ ̷̩̈́ L̷͔̃e̵̳͑a̶̮͊ś̷̮t̶̡͌ ̷̻́ Ẁ̴ͅå̷̬n̶͚̒t̷̠̊ ̴̢́ İ̸̦ṫ̶̖.̵̛̩ ̴̖̕ Å̴̰l̸̿ͅl̸͉͊ ̸̤̋ T̶̥́h̴͓̾õ̴̯ṣ̷͘e̵̻͝ ̶͍̽ Ǔ̵̠n̷̦͗k̴̬̐ñ̷͕o̵̺̽w̶̼͊ņ̷̓s̸̘͌ ̵̮̉ W̷̻͊i̶̛͕l̴̮͐l̶͉͗ ̵͈͂ B̵̘̿e̸͉͛ ̶͕̓ Y̶͚̎o̷̝̿ǘ̴̯r̶̡͋ ̵̼̀ T̶̻͑r̴̠̾u̷̮͋t̶͙̾h̶̝̏.̶͚͗"

The child he wanted to meet at the gates of the Signal Tower, died when he fell from the train cart. He would never know who Mono was meant to be, he would never see that sharpened tenacity again. Try and try as he might, he will never find himself in the eyes of that boy.

__

Mono snapped his head up and snatched at his surroundings with his muddled eyes. What? Where? The rolling buzz of the current faded, as the Thin Man flashed into a wisp of static in the doorway. Leave?

Leave!

Head soggy from the brief doze, he barely organized himself before tumbling off the nightstand. At least he landed on his feet and hands, with a muffled grunt. In short time he was stumbling, legs lagging across the uncooperative floor. The shining glow through the rooms dimmed and pulsed against the glitchy presence of the man in the hat, as such, he nearly missed debris littered throughout the corridor. He fumbled and toppled over a box, only to plow into a dismembered chair.

This is how it always is, and nothing Mono does would change that. The Thin Man has many children all over the Pale City, and he can't have Mono around when he searched for them. He hoped the Thin Man would want to stay longer, especially since he had another game they could play. He could make speek, or they could make the powers. Mono could show the Thin Man how much he was learning.

"No. NoNo. Stay." He tried to catch the Thin Man, but the splotchy silhouette dissolved before he could snag his heel. "You."

In the drenched entry of the home, a hazy shadow already bypassed the gnarled planks nailed across the doorframe. By the time Mono charged around the bend of the hall and hastened to the barred entry, the blotchy figure was far down the bent sidewalk, the cracked chunks sunken into the lawn. He skid to a halt at the panels and peered out, sifting through the threads of rain.

“Hey!” he chirped. “Wait.”

The man in the hat doesn’t hear him. In a glimmer, he’s gone entirely. It is only Mono sitting by the threshold staring out through mist, his ears humming with the rapid drops cascaded across the bent sidewalk.

“Hey,” he called, with less fervor. He wanted the tall thin man to come back. Stay. Just for a bit longer. Would that have mattered? He supposed it would have, to the man in the hat. Too busy. So much to do. Like Mono. There was always so much for Mono to do, he could barely keep up. 

As if it would change anything, Mono leaned out from beneath the barricade of boards and squinted at the gray sheen. No. The Thin Man was long gone. When the Thin Man was bored, he comes back. That is what they did.

In the meantime, Mono had his scouts to finish and some hovels to explore. He pushed back from the doorway and delved back into the dwellings foggy interior. Some of the rooms couldn't be open, but the paneling had splintered and hung weakened like decayed tatters of flesh. He had yet to take stock of the kitchen, as well. Secure the place first, then rewards!

But careful and patience. He remembered that, as he scurried through the rooms of the lower floor. Don’t be careless and overlook something, not a thing. The abode felt sturdy, but the wind hit it from every angle and the planks and shingles wailed against the punishment. He hoped this dwelling wouldn’t topple, though he would plan an escape.

In one corridor stood an archway, which lead to a stairway connecting (still) to the upper floors. Across the spiraling steps, unraveled refuse such as wires, some long branches tangled with clothing, liquified wood, hung off the rail which branched up to the highest level. While racing up the steps, Mono did a couple spins to exacerbate the intense vertigo he was already subjected to. He nearly lost his footing when he stumbled over a doll toy, left on the outer edge. The doll gave a gravelly cry as it flopped down the steps and fell, with the trickling water, to the floor far below.

The upper floor was easy to check through. The available space only had a couple extra rooms and the bathroom. Flies and other nasties swarmed a dead child, lying curled up in the partially filled bathtub. Mono hung on the door handle (from leaping off battered bucket), and stared at the top of the bare skull. He swung his legs, and heaved the door shut.

While exploring around in the upper story, he did find a size appropriate axe in the laundry room. One of the doors the Thin Man shut had some busted planks in the base. It took three swipes to make an opening large enough that he could squeeze through. HIs hat toppled off on the other side, but snatched it back through, then, took in the room.

Not much to really mention. A window beside the bed, a dresser, and a television. The television lay sideways, after it had toppled off the cracked dresser. Rain blasted in from the shattered window, a shirt hung over the windowsill. The chest beside the bed was low enough to hoist himself up, and he could easily clamber across the tattered surface of the waterlogged mattress. He checked out the window, scanning over the duplicate dwellings below and the boggy landscape. Beyond the suburban cookie cutter rooftops, the skyrises of the Pale City extended forever to the narrow thread of the glaring Tower.

Mono curled up on the windowsill and chewed a splinter in his thumb. The small houses did not sit inside the city, they were outside. Right? Then the Pale City was just tall buildings, and chasms, and endless roads to nowhere.

The abrupt screech at his back nearly sent him flying out the window. But he caught his reflex, and instead sprang to the side and onto the mattress edge. He skimmed the room, until his focus alit on the television ,sitting sideways on the floor. That was off, he’s certain! It was busted!

Light filled the glass screen and melodies crooned through. Distorted shapes ducked and weaved among the unraveling layers of glossy interference. For a spell, he anticipated the violent disruption and repulsion through the room, which would indicate the Thin Man’s return. He should hide, the tall thin man might bring another child.

However, the mocking serenity does not disperse, and the furniture is not tossed askew. The television hummed tunes and sing. Mono didn’t like this, and shuffled further from the device, nearly off the beds rotted side. The screen might’ve at one point faced the deflated clothing laid out on the tattered springs. Now, the screen watched elsewhere.

Unsettled, Mono hissed. He dropped to the floor and inched toward the doorway, but gave the sinister box a wide ark. He stopped short of the opening though, cautious but intrigued.

Images flutter inside the mottled glass. Shapes and speek always flashed within the pulse of light, but some of the figures he thought looked… familiar. He swayed. He thought only adults saw whatever the Transmission broadcasted. Children had too much going on to get distracted by that junk. It was stupid.

Was that… Her?

Together. They got off the door and ran along the beach. She followed! He forgot what she looked like without the color. She was like a sodden glob, lost in the dank murk of a deep hole. He found Her. The first child he stole. The last child....

Mono sat down. It was hard to grasp through the sporadic glitch and vibrations, and the noises made it confusing. He followed the sing. It called to him. He scooted a little closer to the television. Not much, but just enough to squint at the shimmering monochrome and all its shades.

Then it’s Mono. Just Mono, hiding in his paper bag and running around the city. Alone. He lost Her. Yes, that happened. But look at all the things he did. All his best tricks. Climbing storm drains, and walking along the roof tops. All on his own. He rode down slippery wires on cloths hangers. Using his powers, chasing the sing through all the different channels. Facing the man in the hat. Then scrambling under floor boards, and racing through a disjointed train. Up and down elevators, tricking Viewers. Never stopping, not eating. His mission was clear, and time was important. She was important.

Yes. He figured out how to turn for power off, and hopped across a shopping cart. He was smart, he knew to avoid the metal sides. He knew that from somewhere. The Viewers fell into the crackling pool. They plunged off the roof side, crashing to the roads. But Mono, he climbed so high-high in the city. The way to the street was gone, it was only endless rooftops and shattered windows. He didn’t know he was so high up. He didn’t care. He could practically fly.

Until he was falling.

“Hey.”

Mono snapped his head off his knee. What was there? He gaped at the sideways screen, the choppy distortions still a challenge to work through. There was shape. A block. A familiar symbol.

“Hey,” he echoed.

Tap-tap-tap.

“Psst. Hey.” That fuzzy shape hit the inside of the screen. It sounded like… no. Does that how he sound?

At a loss, he parroted, “Hey.” He shifted and uncoiled from his coat. The other child… it’s not him. It can’t be him. Despite their sideways situation, the other boy slammed his fists onto the inside of the glass. Why doesn’t he just push through?

“Hoi,” barked the other Mono. Paper bag. Yes. Coat. Of course! The other Mono sounded annoyed. A little light glint inside one of the eye holes of his mask. “Come.” He beckoned to Mono, who still sat outside the screen.

Mono, the real Mono (he’s sure) tilted his head. That’s not real. No! Fake!

“No,” he growled. Like She would. Fake… Fa̸̴ke͜͏.̷̵ ̴̕͘F̢͠a̕k̷̨e̛!̷̷̧ ̨͜F̶̷A͜ḰE̸̶͡!҉̛̛!͏

The Other Mono banged his fists on the screen, and looked back over his shoulder. Looked back. “Hurry!”

This isn’t real! This isn’t real! This is dream haunt!

The real Mono covered his eyes and scooted back. “No! NO!” Something shifted behind the Other Mono. He didn’t get a good look, too many vibrant shapes and twisted images. Was it an eye, or Eyes? No! He’s not real! Fake. Trick!

When he chanced another look, the Other Mono had his hands pressed to the inside of the glass, his palms white. He twisted and turned at the glossy surface, struggling to find a way through. “HEY!”

The real Mono sprang for the door and the crack at its base. He leaned out and snared the axe, sill lying by the splintered plywood outside. He hefted it over the rim and heaved towards the television, now sputtering awful sounds of gnashing and laugher. The metal knob bumped and ground across the splintered wood. Mono gritted his teeth and strangled the neck of the axe.

The Other Mono reeled when Real Mono launched at him with the axe. The doppelganger toppled backwards, the edges of the glass becoming wispy and black.

With a piercing cry, Mono chucked the axe toward the television, barely nicking the edge of the side. He didn’t finish the deed, didn’t wait to see what would happen. In a staticky flash, Mono shot to the other side of the door and flopped to his knees. He staggered to his feet, wasting no time in charging to the encircling banister and the stairway.

Above, from the room he abandoned, a horrendous eruption shattered the simmering rumbling shriek of the rainfall.

For a whole moment, Mono can’t hear anything. Not even the faint vibrations of his own footfalls, as he sprang over the last few steps to the lower floor. He charged through the corridor, barely aware that the dwelling was so dark now. The somber radiance of its few bulbs could scarcely brave the imposing slate of black huddled through the winding passage of the residence. Rivers oozed through gouges in the ceiling, drenching the soured drywall and dragging bits of splinters to the sodden carpet. 

Mono dove into the sheltered space beneath the nightstand, pressed against the lounge seat. Here he was hidden and mostly dry, he crammed himself against the tattered fabric and wound up in his coat, eyes fixed on the open archway leading into the corridor. His own heart thrummed in his ears, and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he regained his hearing. In small increments, the comforting drone of rain braved the walls, and the wind resumed its harsh wail. Mono was still shaking.

What was that? Who! That wasn’t Mono! Something was wrong with that child! He didn’t understand! He didn’t like that!

He wasn’t certain what he saw, or what he thought was… who…. It wasn’t him. Trick. Fake! Not real! None of it! He didn’t go upstairs. He didn’t see anything! Nothing!

It would be okay. Everything would be okay. He would take a rest and then explore the downstairs again. No weird stuff would happen this time. If he could stop shaking, that would be good. Once he dried out.

Stupid televisions. He hated them.

Next

[automationsfascinations]

Optimum Overlander build

Land Cruiser 200 Series

KDSS (sway bar disconnect system) for extra articulation

Tundra control arm swap (wider stance for greater articulation)

Small lift (better droop than a tall lift)

35" Tires

Extended rear bump stops to prevent tires from touching fender

Factor lockers, center, rear, front

Aluminum roof rack

I got this idea from the example in Tinkerer's Adventure video (Why LOW Trucks Perform better offroad). The 200 series comes with ultra reliable V8s and solid drivetrains. It's more modern than 80 series but not as new as the 2024+ model

[taughtdefense]

you have a system set in place for days like this. it's what happens when you're the son of two addicts, you have to make rules for yourself, for when it's okay to use and when it's okay to drink. your fiancé becoming a completely different person didn't make the dos or don'ts list.

rule #1: don't drink alone. you're done dealing with looks of concern and pity, so a bar or a club was out of the picture. you still had plenty of old fake IDs and it's fitting that you chose mr. robert j. wilson, 24, married when rifling through your old drawer. the guy at the liquor store doesn't look too closely at it before ringing up two bottles of jameson. you were fourteen when you realized only beginners go for cheap booze and a brand-new fake with an age just above the legal limit. it needs to be realistic (over 21 and under 25 was the sweet spot), affordable (irish whiskey wasn't going to break the bank), and consistent (some bartenders and clerks kept were good with names and faces and you can't pull a wilson at the bar you used to visit with trey and cruz as weinberg).

rule #2: don't drink when upset. part of you is doing this to get back at ethan. you want him to know the suffering he's put you through these past few weeks while you drink enough to forget all about it.

rule #3: don't do anything your parents would. you've seen your mom drunk-dialing exes while you were supposedly sleeping on the couch. you know it's a bad idea but you can't bring yourself to care and really you're not dialing anyone. showing up outside of the home of your old sensei and your fiancé at 4 am clutching the last of the second jameson bottle while knocking over and over again was a completely different thing.

your eyes are glazy when the door finally opens and not-ethan stands there. "hey, eth."

you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the dim light filtering through the blinds. you don't sleep. you don't need to. everything feels distant, like it’s happening to someone else. the body you inhabit—it’s a vessel, a shell. you’ve felt this for a while now, the slow drift away from your Teenaged Self, the disconnection settling in like a fog. there’s no running from it, no escaping the weight of it pressing down on you. wade & vanessa aren’t here right now, having been pulled away for another week-long trip for their actual work, non sensei-duty related, so there’s no need to pretend anymore, to keep up appearances, to check in on their emotional states.

a few loud knocks at the door pulls you from your thoughts, but only just. it’s faint, barely registering through the haze. another knock, louder this time, more erratic. you know who it is. you can tell before the door even opens.

robby.

your body moves, but it’s automatic, like you’re being guided by strings. you don’t feel anything—no tension, no nerves, no fear. just the dull pull of obligation, like you’re supposed to be doing something, so you follow through with it. you open the door, & there he is, but something’s off. more off than usual.

robby’s standing there, but he’s swaying a little, his face flushed, eyes glassy, the practically empty bottle clutched at his side. the smell of alcohol hits you hard, &—

oh. okay.

he’s drunk. very drunk. understood.

he’s not handling this new version of you well, of your Teenaged Self in the coma. that much is obvious. the concern, the frustration you’ve been seeing him drowning him for weeks has boiled over again, & now he’s standing in your doorway, eyes wide & unfocused, stumbling through his own mess.

it's been seven weeks. the two nurses taking care of you were talking about you, wondering why your family hasn’t your Teenaged Self off life support.

( ❝ god, look at him. so young. kid’s a hero too, apparently. heard he was the one who stopped that crazed silver guy from further terrorizing the valley with his karate shit. he was also that same kid who died because of him. it probably would’ve been better if he died that first time. ❞ ❝ yep. & now, everyone he knows is suffering even more—he’s torturing his friends & family. i can’t fathom why they’re willingly putting themselves through that. ❞ ❝ well, at this point, it’s a matter of when he passes if he doesn’t improve, not if. ❞ )

❝ hey, eth. ❞ @taughtpain’s voice is slurred, the edges of the words blurring together.

you barely react. there’s a part of you that should be furious because it's four in the damned morning even though you weren’t sleeping, that he's drunk even though he knows better than anyone about johnny's & shannon's histories with alcohol abuse, but all you feel is numb. he’s here, in front of you, clearly spiraling, & you can’t bring yourself to care. suddenly gaining empathy—pretending—would feel like a both an insult & a disservice to your Teenaged Self & his bond with robby. not to mention, really fucking shitty. it’s like watching a scene from behind glass—you’re there, but you’re not there.

you can tell he’s hurting. & part of you feels like you should do something. say something. comfort him, maybe. that’s what you would’ve done before in your other vessel—kissed him, brought him to the couch to sleep it off, pulled him into bed, let him kiss you, let him he tire himself out. but now? you’re frozen, locked in place by the sheer weight of how little you care.

he sways, nearly falling into the doorframe. you reach out instinctively, grabbing his arm to steady him, but there’s no emotion behind it. your touch is automatic, mechanical, like you’re just going through the motions because you know that’s what you’re supposed to do.

your eyes lock with his glazed over ones, & for a second, you see it, can feel the weight of his emotions through the reek of alcohol—the desperation. he’s scared. scared that he’s losing you, scared that he doesn’t know how to stop it anymore. you think he’s trying, in the worst way possible, to reach you, to pull you back, but it’s like you’re on two different planes of existence.

but he’s not helping. not really. if anything, him showing up here like this is making it worse. his clumsy, drunken sudden house-call, calling you eth again, is only reminding you how far gone you are, how much of yourself you’ve lost. robby isn’t handling any of this well. you’ve known that for a while, but seeing him like this—drunk & stumbling at 4am—it’s painfully clear just how out of his depth he really is.

you’ve been aware of robby fumbling with his emotions, but this time he’s clearly trapped in the fog of alcohol, only making that worse for himself. you don’t respond right at this second, don’t react. he’s probably expecting something from you—anger, concern, maybe even comfort—but all you have is emptiness. you’re detached, disconnected from everything, even him.

you wish you could feel something, anything, but it’s like your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. you’re here, but you’re not.

❝ i'll take you to home. ❞ home, as in your old apartment. you don’t live there anymore. ❝ you shouldn’t be here, robby. you’re only hurting- ❞ yourself, ❝ both of us. ❞ your words are entirely detached, the life & happiness he knows you once held gone, even as your eyes shift from the hallway where the elevator resides back to his face, calculating how long it’d take you to wrangle him back into sam’s, tory’s & miguel’s arms at their apartment. not your apartment, nor your arms.

you don’t move. you’re not sure how long you stand there, just holding onto his arm & staring at him while he stands there, staring back at you, drunk out of his mind. part of you wonders if he’ll remember any of this in the morning. maybe it’ll be better if he doesn’t.

because there’s nothing you can give him. not anymore. you’re too far gone. & deep down, you think he knows it. too.

[jeepknowledge]

Installing a Lift on a Jeep Wrangler: Step by Step with Tricks - Skyjacker Long Travel Kit

Introduction

If you're looking to add more clearance, improve off-road performance, or simply give your Jeep Wrangler a more rugged look, installing a lift kit is a great option. One of the best choices for serious off-roaders is the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit, known for its durability and high-quality components. In this guide, we’ll walk you through the process of installing this lift kit step by step, along with some expert tricks to make the installation smoother.

H1: Preparing to Install the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit

Tools Required

Before starting the installation, ensure you have all the necessary tools:

Jack and jack stands

Socket set (metric and SAE)

Torque wrench

Wrenches (adjustable and fixed)

Impact wrench (optional but helpful)

Spring compressor

Brake line extension tools

Safety glasses and gloves

Safety Precautions

Safety is crucial when working on a vehicle:

Use jack stands on a flat surface to stabilize the vehicle.

Always wear gloves and safety glasses.

Disconnect the battery before working on electrical components.

Setting Up Your Workspace

A well-organized workspace can make a huge difference. Ensure your tools are easily accessible, and you have enough space to move around the Jeep.

H2: Understanding the Components of the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit

The Skyjacker Long Travel Kit includes:

Front and rear coil springs

Extended shocks

Sway bar links

Bump stops

Extended brake lines

Control arms

These components are designed to increase suspension travel, providing a smoother ride off-road and better performance over rough terrain. The Skyjacker kit stands out for its quality compared to other lift kits, offering superior durability and enhanced flexibility.

H2: Jacking Up the Jeep Wrangler

Positioning Your Wrangler: Park your Jeep on a level surface and engage the parking brake.

Using the Jack: Place the jack under the designated lift points of the Wrangler. Slowly raise the vehicle until the tires are off the ground.

Stabilize the Jeep: Place jack stands under the Jeep to keep it stable while you work. Always use multiple stands for safety.

H2: Removing the Wheels

With the Jeep properly jacked up, remove the wheels:

Loosen the Lug Nuts: Before lifting, slightly loosen the lug nuts on each wheel.

Remove the Wheels: Once the Jeep is lifted, fully remove the lug nuts and take off the wheels.

Trick: If the wheels are stuck, try giving them a light tap with a rubber mallet to loosen them.

H2: Disconnecting the Suspension Components

Start by disconnecting the existing suspension components:

Shocks and Sway Bars: Use your socket set to remove the bolts holding the shocks and sway bars in place.

Brake Lines: Detach the brake lines, being careful to avoid any fluid spillage.

Common Mistake: Not securing the brake lines properly after disconnecting can lead to brake failure. Always use a brake line clamp.

H2: Removing the Stock Coil Springs

Removing the coil springs requires care:

Using a Spring Compressor: Compress the stock coil springs using a spring compressor.

Removing Bolts: Carefully remove the bolts holding the coil springs in place.

Tip: Stubborn bolts can be loosened with a bit of penetrating oil.

H2: Installing the New Skyjacker Coil Springs

With the old springs removed, it's time to install the new ones:

Positioning the Springs: Place the new Skyjacker coil springs in the same location as the old ones.

Ensure Proper Alignment: Check that the springs are seated properly to avoid future alignment issues.

H2: Installing the New Shocks

The Skyjacker kit comes with extended shocks for added suspension travel:

Bolt Installation: Install the new shocks using the provided bolts.

Adjusting the Shocks: Fine-tune the shock placement to ensure a perfect fit for your desired ride height.

H2: Adjusting the Control Arms

Control arms play a key role in ensuring the vehicle’s suspension is properly aligned:

Adjust for Ride Height: Use the adjustable control arms to set the ideal ride height for your Jeep.

Fine-Tuning Alignment: Double-check alignment after installation to prevent uneven tire wear.

H2: Installing Extended Brake Lines

Installing extended brake lines is crucial for safe driving post-lift:

Remove the Stock Lines: Carefully detach the old brake lines.

Install the New Lines: Use the supplied hardware to secure the extended brake lines.

H2: Reattaching the Sway Bars

Reattaching the sway bars is key for stability:

Reinstall the Sway Bars: Use a torque wrench to tighten the bolts.

Double-Check Stability: Ensure everything is securely fastened before moving on.

H2: Installing Bump Stops

Bump stops prevent the suspension from compressing too much:

Positioning the Bump Stops: Install the bump stops at the designated points.

Secure Them Properly: Tighten them securely to avoid future issues.

H2: Final Adjustments and Inspection

Once everything is installed, do a final check:

Torque Specifications: Make sure all bolts are tightened to the manufacturer’s recommended specs.

Check Alignment: Ensure your suspension components are properly aligned.

H2: Test Driving the Lifted Jeep

After installation, take the Jeep for a test drive:

Test for Proper Suspension Travel: Take the Jeep on uneven terrain to test the suspension.

Listen for Noises: Pay attention to any unusual sounds during the drive.

Conclusion

Installing a Skyjacker Long Travel Kit on your Jeep Wrangler is a great way to enhance its off-road performance and aesthetics. By following these steps and tips, you’ll ensure a smooth installation process and enjoy the benefits of a lifted Jeep for years to come.

FAQs

How long does it take to install a Skyjacker Long Travel Kit? Typically, it takes about 6-8 hours for a DIY installation.

Is it necessary to extend the brake lines? Yes, for a lift over 2 inches, extended brake lines are essential to ensure safety.

**How much lift does the Skyjacker Long Travel Kit provide

?** It offers between 4 to 6 inches of lift, depending on your Wrangler model.

What tools are essential for this installation? A jack, spring compressor, and torque wrench are the most important tools.

Can I install the Skyjacker kit on other Jeep models? The kit is designed specifically for Jeep Wranglers but may fit other models with minor modifications.

[arasjeep]

Which Jeep Is Better: Rubicon or Wrangler?

When it comes to choosing a Jeep, enthusiasts and newcomers alike often find themselves at a crossroads: should they opt for the Jeep Wrangler or the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon? Both models have a legendary status, with unique features and capabilities that appeal to different kinds of drivers. At ARAS Jeep Madurai, we understand how challenging this decision can be. That's why we're here to break down the differences and help you decide which Jeep is better for your needs.

The Jeep Wrangler: An Overview

The Jeep Wrangler is an iconic vehicle known for its rugged design and off-road capabilities. It's a versatile SUV that performs well on city streets and rocky terrains alike. The standard Jeep Wrangler comes with several trims, each offering a mix of comfort, style, and capability. With a choice of two-door or four-door models and various engine options, the Wrangler is designed for those who love the thrill of adventure.

Key Features of the Jeep Wrangler:

Engine Options: The Wrangler offers multiple engine choices, including a 3.6-liter V6, a 2.0-liter turbocharged inline-four, and even a 3.0-liter EcoDiesel V6 for those who prefer more torque and efficiency.

Versatility: With the ability to remove the doors, roof, and even fold down the windshield, the Wrangler provides a truly open-air experience that’s hard to match.

Off-Road Capability: Equipped with the Command-Trac 4x4 system, the Wrangler is no slouch off the beaten path. It offers a solid base for those looking to customize their off-road experience further.

Interior Comfort: Modern Wranglers are equipped with more creature comforts than ever before, including touch-screen infotainment systems, leather seats, and advanced driver-assistance technologies.

The Jeep Wrangler Rubicon: A Step Above

The Jeep Wrangler Rubicon takes everything great about the Wrangler and enhances it for hardcore off-road enthusiasts. Named after the famous Rubicon Trail in California, the Rubicon trim is engineered specifically for extreme off-road conditions. If you're someone who plans to tackle tough terrains regularly, the Rubicon might be the right choice for you.

Key Features of the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon:

Rock-Trac 4x4 System: The Rubicon comes standard with the advanced Rock-Trac 4x4 system, which includes a two-speed transfer case with a 4:1 low-range gear ratio. This provides exceptional control and torque multiplication when crawling over rocks and steep inclines.

Heavy-Duty Axles: The Rubicon features Dana 44 front and rear axles, designed to handle rough terrains and heavy loads better than the standard axles on the Wrangler.

Electronic Locking Differentials: Front and rear Tru-Lok electronic locking differentials provide increased traction and control on challenging trails.

Off-Road Ready Tires: The Rubicon comes equipped with 33-inch all-terrain tires, which are designed to tackle the most rugged landscapes without missing a beat.

Enhanced Suspension: With a performance suspension system and electronic sway bar disconnect, the Rubicon offers better articulation and stability on uneven ground.

Performance Comparison: Wrangler vs. Rubicon

While the Wrangler is a fantastic vehicle for both on and off-road use, the Rubicon is built specifically for those who intend to push their Jeep to its limits. The Rubicon’s specialized equipment makes it more capable in extreme conditions, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's the best choice for everyone.

On-Road Performance:

Wrangler: Provides a smoother ride and better fuel efficiency due to its lighter build and less aggressive off-road components.

Rubicon: Slightly stiffer ride due to heavy-duty suspension and larger tires, but still comfortable for daily driving.

Off-Road Performance:

Wrangler: Suitable for light to moderate off-roading with its Command-Trac 4x4 system.

Rubicon: Predominant off-road execution thanks to the Rock-Trac 4x4 system, electronic locking differentials, and heavy-duty axles.

Which Jeep is Right for You?

If your driving involves a mix of city commuting and weekend adventures, the Jeep Wrangler is a solid choice. It's versatile, comfortable, and capable enough for most off-road excursions. However, if you're a serious off-road enthusiast looking to conquer challenging trails, the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon is the better option. Its enhanced features and rugged build are specifically designed for extreme off-road conditions.

Experience Jeep at ARAS Jeep Madurai

At ARAS Jeep Madurai, we understand that choosing the right vehicle is a personal decision. That's why we offer a variety of Jeep models, including both the Wrangler and Rubicon, to meet your needs. Our team of experts is here to guide you through every step of the process, ensuring you find the perfect Jeep for your lifestyle. Visit us today to test drive the Jeep Wrangler and Wrangler Rubicon and experience the difference for yourself!

FAQ

1. What is the main difference between the Jeep Wrangler and the Rubicon?

The main difference lies in their off-road capabilities. The Rubicon is equipped with advanced features like the Rock-Trac 4x4 system, electronic locking differentials, and heavy-duty axles, making it more capable in extreme off-road conditions compared to the standard Wrangler.

2. Is the Rubicon worth the extra cost over the Wrangler?

If you plan on doing a lot of off-roading, especially on challenging trails, the Rubicon’s advanced features are worth the extra cost. For regular use and light off-roading, the standard Wrangler is more than sufficient.

3. Can the Wrangler be modified to match the Rubicon’s capabilities?

Yes, the Wrangler can be modified with aftermarket parts to improve its off-road capabilities. However, these modifications can be costly, and the Rubicon comes with these enhancements as standard, offering a more integrated solution.

4. Does ARAS Jeep Madurai offer financing options for purchasing a Jeep?

Yes, ARAS Jeep Madurai offers a variety of financing options to help you purchase the Jeep of your dreams. Our finance team is here to assist you in finding the best plan to suit your budget.

5. Can I take a test drive of both models at ARAS Jeep Madurai?

Absolutely! We encourage all our customers to test drive both the Jeep Wrangler and Rubicon to experience their unique features and capabilities. Visit ARAS Jeep Madurai today to book your test drive.

[jeeptalkshow]

Buzz the Tower

On tonight’s episode…

News stories; Permission to buzz the tower? $25k Renegade, no not on Facebook Marketplace

Brainstorm; Natalie talks about…

And in Must have STUFF for your Jeep! APEX Designs AutoLynx-Jeep Sway Bar Disconnect

  Check out this episode!

[hells-musing-along]

Noticed her having a bit too much over at the bar. Approaches her, with a fair bit of concern. Clears his throat. "...Uhh, Lils....are you uh, doing alright? I noticed you might be... hm, I don't know... but I'm here incase... you stumble when you stand or anything like that." he's not really sure how to do this while still feeling that disconnect but he's trying. "You wanna check how many fingers you can see, cus I've got those~" he cracks a light joke, with a laugh and a grin and holds up three for her to check.

Lucifer’s muffled words gradually reached her ears. Although she didn't catch the initial remark, she sat up slowly on the barstool and turned towards him, swaying precariously to one side before correcting and leaning against the counter. A goofy smile spread across her face as she recognized him, and she chuckled softly.

"Wait... Wait... Don't tell me... I got this," she slurs, leaning forward, her fingernails digging tightly into the wood to steady herself, her eyes narrowing. "It's s-six, right? ...did I win?”

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@helluva-hazbins