#moving save data is Always fucking annoying

[midnightwind]

perhaps unreasonably annoyed that I need save data in World to get the stupid palico armor in Wilds that I won't even be using, but what am I gonna do, not get the free stuff?

[strawberryblue-blog]

Irresistible —Carlos Sainz.

Summary: Where YN got drunk at a Williams party and now Carlos knows her secret.

Warning: none. Enemies to lovers, co-workers to lovers, cute, soft, mention of alcohol, drunk behavior, etc.

Words count: +2.8k

The sun was already setting behind the clouds, tinting the sky with oranges and pinks as you finished your tasks in the Formula 1 team's garage. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline permeated the air and the sound of the engines echoed in your ears, a familiar song that filled you with excitement. Working in this world was a dream come true, but there was one small obstacle that made things a little more complicated.

Carlos was the team's star driver, heir to a family of motors, known as much for his talent on the track as for his arrogant attitude. However, what drove you most crazy about him was the way he was always looking for a way to annoy you. He would smile at you with that mischievous grin, as if he had something to say to you all the time. Even though you partly despised him, you couldn't help but feel a tingle in your stomach every time you saw him. The asshole wasn't just an asshole, he was the definition of a Greek god. Attractive and fucking hot. Your kind of guy, though you tried to ignore and move on.

A snort comes out your mouth as your hands hold some of the car's equipment, still working hard on your stuff, you could tell how he was just there, annoying you. You ignored him at first and concentrated on the screen, watching the data coming in from the car. Oil pressure, brake temperature, speed... all within parameters.

"Would you stop staring at me like that?" you spit out blurting it out. Your gaze is drawn to him, he's leaning against the tail of the car, his suit misaligned, his hands folded across his chest and his Machiavellian smile.

"Like what?" he asks, with that damn lopsided grin that makes your fingers clench tight.

"Like you're about to say something stupid"

"Oh, no honey, you do enough stupid shit for the both of us" he mutters nonchalantly.

Your jaw tenses up, what the fuck is he talking about? He's been bugging you for weeks about something stupid you've done and it doesn't even make sense. You don't remember doing anything with him at all.

You hate him. You hate him so much you could scream. And yet, every time he comes around, every time his voice drops just for you, something in your stomach cringes. Something that has nothing to do with anger and everything to do with the dangerous urges you've been repressing for days, weeks, months.

With his body relaxed, he steps away from the car and comes walking straight to your place. But you don't want to listen to him, so you get up from your seat and try to walk. Surely there's something to do somewhere else in the garage, you don't feel like listening to him.

But Carlos steps in and leaves you trapped between the chair and his body, looking at you with that smile still on his face. Your fists shake from the urge to stamp them on his perfect Spanish face.

"You know what's funny?" he says, taking a step closer.

You're so close now that you can feel the heat emanating from his body. Your instincts scream for you to move away but your feet won't budge.

"What?" you reply, your voice dry.

He leans in, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. Your eyes wander to the spot, there is no one close enough to notice the situation or save you, though no one would anyway. He's the star and you're just an employee.

"That you always end up looking for me to argue with. Like you can't get through a damn day without me" he whispers in your ear almost touching you, a shiver runs down your back and you force yourself to hold your breath.

That's a low blow and you know it. You pull away sharply, pushing him with the palm of your hand against his chest. It's firm, hot, and the sensation only ignites your rage more.

"Don't make me laugh. If it were up to me, I'd never have to see you ever" you mutter moving away to the other side of the car.

He laughs a low chuckle that makes your blood boil. And then he follows in your footsteps until he reaches you again. But you're quicker and circle back around the car.

"Are you sure? Because ten minutes ago you were the one who came all the way out here, furious over something as insignificant as a change in equipment and to check it out, just as I got out of the car. Sometimes I think you do it just to have an excuse to see me"

Your face burns. You want to scream at him, you want to hit him, you want to... You sigh calming yourself down. You don't want a scene, you don't want to indulge him. You'll show him that you're more professional than him and he can't mess with you.

"You're not as irresistible as you think" you spit turning with your quick feet spinning on the cart but Carlos seems to be smarter and waits for you, catching you again.

"I think you do think I'm irresistible" Before you could react, he steps even closer, almost whispering to you. You whiten your eyes. "Don't worry honey, it wouldn't be the first secret I'd keep for you"

Your face scrunches up in confusion. The first secret? What the fuck does he mean by that?

"Oh, so you don't remember" his eyes sparkle with excitement as he smiles nostalgically. He takes another step and you hold him so close to you again, your body vibrates.

You hate yourself because he knows exactly what he's doing and yet you can't pull away.

Your hands shake. You want him to stop but at the same time you want him to take that one more step. For him to cross the line you've both been skirting since this damn war started.

"The New Year's party" he murmurs and you shake your head without remembering. "The drinks with Alex and Lily all night" he keeps saying and your eyebrows increasingly draw together in confusion.

One of his hands is positioned on your waist and your eyes shake, you can't think about that night and Carlos hand on your body. Your mind literally short circuits.

"You did a little show, don't you remember?" he says smiling. "Then I took you home and you went on..."

Your hand positions itself on him and you tug it away from him, pulling him away from your body quickly. You shake your head still confused. You try to remember that night but nothing comes to your mind, nothing but the hangover you had the next day. You really had come a lot that day, enough to remember nothing.

"You are a liar" you spit angrily. "You don't know anything about me"

He's playing with you. He just wants to play with your head. Your hands rest on his chest and you push his body away from you, walking away from the place. You won't play along with his game. You are tired for today.

Some of the mechanics wave at you as you walk down the hallway, it's already time to leave and many of them are heading home already. Most of the team finished when practice ended and would continue tomorrow at the next practice.

"Oh no?" you ask after a while running up to you. Your hands carry the folders and papers of today's single-seater result all the way to the office but you don't stop for him. You just want to get this damn day over with.

"You have a tattoo on your right side of your lower belly" he insists when you're both inside the office. "A butterfly, it's cute."

Your blood freezes and you come to a complete stop. The world comes crashing down on you. How the fuck does he know that, how is that possible? You drop your things on the desk and turn around quickly. Your face is a poem and you know it because he looks at you smiling like he's enjoying this more than anyone.

"I know because when I took you home you took your clothes off, YN" he mutters as you walk like a whirlwind towards him.

Your hands push him all the way to his trailer and after you're both inside, you slam the door shut.

"Shut up, I have no idea what you're saying. I don't know who told you but don't you ever..."

"Don't get mad, honey. I'm not the one who gets drunk and feels a little crazy at parties" he sneers still with his unchanging gaze.

You open your mouth to complain but a flashback comes into your head. Your heart starts pounding remembering the embarrassing New Year's celebration. You had been relaxed, quite you would say personally, surrounded by colleagues and joy and unfortunately you were not good with it alcohol but it was a special day and you wanted to have fun, but maybe you were a little more cheerful than you should have been.

You remembered to toast with Alex and the new Williams team, even Lily was there that night, you both laughed, whispered, danced and drank all night. Until everyone had left the party, you were still having fun. You got up on the table and danced like an idiot, demanding for music. You remembered the warmth of the place, the laughter, and how, in a moment of pure madness, you had decided to do a little dance, without thinking about who was present. Your gaze had found Carlos and you suddenly felt hot, hot enough to do.... A stupid thing to do.

The memory hit you like a bucket of ice water and you felt your pulse quicken. You didn't remember. Or maybe you had been trying to repress that memory to pretend nothing had happened. But at that moment, the idea that he might know what you had done was terrifying.

"I was drunk I..." you try to say but you can't go on.

His smile says it all, he's enjoying it. Seeing you humiliated remembering what you did that night. What you did with him.

"I remember you dancing for me that night when I took you home. It was an unforgettable show, I definitely should have recorded it. It could be a good memory of you" he said, his teasing tone was as frustrating as it was charming.

You bite your tongue hiding a gasp of rage as you listen to him. You close your eyes as again the memories flood your mind, it's as if Carlos is bringing them back to you.

He carried you to the car on his shoulder after getting you off the table, scolded you and then sat you in the passenger seat. You were uncomfortable the whole ride, fidgeting in your seat, wanting to get out and continue the fun. You tried to play music but Carlos would take it off and you argued the whole trip about it.

You got out of the car, stumbling when you got home. When the air hit you, you felt the adrenaline rush again in your body and invited him in. The tickle in your belly from that night, you feel it again right now as you remember.

"Damn" you whisper mentally turning in place as your face becomes disfigured.

You guided him to your couch flirtatiously as he just followed you like a fool. You even tripped over your carpet but that didn't stop you. You sat him on your couch and started to move your body. In front of him. Completely out of it.

Your hands slap your forehead as the vivid memory is still in your mind. You danced with your body, lifted your hands, stroked your hair, bit your lip. You sat on it. Carlos' gaze is present in your mind and your body trembles. He was there, looking at you as if you were a prey about to be captured by his hunter.

The burning in your cheeks brings you back to reality before you can remember more. But you know that much worse things happened than just dancing for him. Like, for example, Carlos knowing you have moles that form a quasi-heart on your belly makes you furious.

Still, you lift your head and relax your face. He can't get inside your head. Whatever happened, you were drunk and it doesn't matter anymore.

"I don't remember anything and honestly it's better that way. But thank you for taking me home" you say trying to sound calm.

"Are you sure? You look like your cheeks are a little red, could it be that you remember something?" he says with a slight grimace.

You nod lifting your shoulders.

"You know" Carlos continued, unfazed by your silence. "It's funny how people forget important things. Especially crazy nights out."

You deny without giving it a thought. Crossing your hands across your chest as a sign of disinterest, as if you don't really care.

"Let me refresh your mind then, you were... too drunk. Too drunk. You were dancing alone at the table, I had to get you down from there and take you home. When we got there, you were restless... too much, then you came up to me. You said things to me... things I can't repeat. And then... you tried to... well, let's just say you were very insistent"

You felt your blood run cold in your veins. He seemed to be enjoying himself the way he was bullying you and you kind of couldn't do much. Your teeth squeaked as they clenched. Hate. Anger. Desire. Remembrance. What did it matter? You just wanted to make it go away.

"Even" Carlos continued, with a small smile. "You gave me a dance... quite... sensual. It was... interesting."

The air is held in your chest and you try to resist the urge to throw yourself at him and hit him. You squint, thinking about your response because anything at this point could be a double-edged sword.

"Maybe you liked it too much and that's why you're so keen to remind me" you lash out. Now you're the one smiling coldly. "Maybe you wanted me to do it in the first place? Maybe you want it right now too" you continue as you move closer to him.

Now it is Carlos who opens his eyes in surprise. You smack your lip as you take another step, Carlos stands still.

"Tell me, Carlos, did you like it?" you question in a honeyed voice. He swallows saliva without answering.

"Did you like taking advantage of a drunk girl who just wanted to have fun?" you say with some amusement. "You like cornering me like this so you can feel like you're in control?" you insist taking another step towards him.

His face turns serious. It's as if the roles have been reversed. Now you're the one pointing at him and sneering, though you try to give him a serious touch to annoy him. Just as Carlos usually does.

"Nothing happened" he quickly replies. "You took your clothes off but I stopped you, okay? I didn't touch you or try anything with you" he defends himself with his worried look. And you smile.

"You didn't?" you question with some mockery. "Because I remember your hands on me, how your fingers caressed my skin while you devoured me with your gaze" you cocked your head to the side remembering. "You touched my ass, you don't remember that?"

He shakes his head repeatedly, concerned.

"You put my hands on your body, you did everything for me, I just..." he swallows saliva again pausing as he notices your words. He's definitely nervous.

You stared into his eyes, feeling a mixture of shame, relief and... something else. Something that maybe, just maybe, could be the beginning of something new. Silence ensues and you just stare at each other in defiance. You don't want to talk anymore, the tension between you is tangible. You can feel how the heat begins to suffocate or perhaps the closeness of his body to yours.

As an involuntary reaction, you take a step towards him and without thinking too much - because if you had thought about it, you wouldn't be able to do it - you press your lips against Carlos'. At first he freezes, his rigid body tells you it's a surprise or maybe he doesn't want to, so you suddenly pull away a little. But he doesn't let you break away and kisses you back, this time, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him.

His big hands wrap around your back and he hugs you from behind as his chest meets yours and they kiss fiercely and yours wrap around his silky hair, pulling it just barely. His lips take yours desperately, his tongue darting across your mouth as you both gasp in dizzy sensation. Your pulse races as he continues to kiss as his lungs begin to demand oxygen but neither of you part for air. You can't.

You don't quite know how it started. Or rather, when it started to feel so inevitable.

Maybe it was that time when he held your gaze a second longer than he should have. Or when he brushed your hand by accident and you, instead of pulling away, left it still, trembling inside. Maybe it was always there, hidden behind the words that weren't said, the silences that lasted a little longer, the awkward smiles that hid what no one dared to name. Or the times he annoyed you, argued and teased you, with his perfect smile.

And now, now you are there. In that room where the world seems to have fallen silent, as if everything had been waiting for this moment.

You look at him and you look into his eyes. There is something different, something new, or maybe something that was always there and only now you see it.

It's something magnetic. As if his center of gravity has shifted. As if it now revolves around yours, and it can't let go. And neither can you.

The tension is so dense that it seems like a golden thread binding you, invisible and firm. When his fingers touch yours, you feel a spark that cannot be explained, as if all your nerve endings know something that you are still processing.

And when he kisses you it's like a confession. A soft scream in the middle of everything they kept silent about.

It's as if you've been falling for each other for years and you finally let each other hit bottom.

As if all the hidden desire ignited all at once, exploding like an atomic bomb, with no turning back.

But there is no rush. No desperation. Only the certainty that this moment belongs to them. That your bodies recognize each other, that your souls lean towards each other like flowers seeking the sun.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Hi, i really love your BANG-ABEL one shot so much!! It's cute and hot 💥

but can i request the drabble for this couple which is the "easy excess " y/n wearing that night gown and make him lose his mind 😉 hot and hard smut of course 🙈if you don't mind

thanks and love you!!

Okay so I know this took almost a year to fulfill and it's kinda short but I hope you like it 😭

Thank you for the support love 💜

~~~~

Jungkook's been here for a few weeks now and he's taking getting to know my daily routine and general habits very seriously. 

He finds simple ways he can seamlessly fit in and essentially make my life easier...and well and fuck my brains out seven days a week but that's beside the point...well that's pretty much exactly the point but anyways...

He's suggested we have a movie night tonight which I agree to, letting him know I'll meet him in the living room in just a bit giving me time to change into something more comfortable.

What he doesn't know though is I happened to buy something new.

I walk out of the bedroom wearing a white, practically see-through babydoll nightgown, adopting that 'easy access' habit he's wanting me to get into. His eyes widen, giving me all the satisfaction I need. 

"Is it too much?" I ask but he shakes his head, twirling his finger in a wordless way to ask me to do the same, as a result showing him everything he wants to see between my legs, smirking at the sight. 

"Come here" he rasps, sending a shockwave through my nervous system making my feet move before I can even register what I'm doing, pulling me down onto his lap once I'm within arms reach. 

"When did you get this?" he says, shamelessly cupping one of my breasts and rubbing his thumb over one of my nipples, a smile tugging at his lips when he watches how quickly it hardens.

"On my way home from work yesterday" I admit, his lips having found themselves trailing along the length of my neck, not kissing but enough to make the warmth from his breath cause goosebumps.

"Hiding it from me huh? You plan this?" he asks, calling out my efforts to seduce him even though we both know he would still get turned on if I was wearing a trash bag.

"I thought it was cute" I pout and he chuckles. "It's very cute, baby. You look like a fluffy little cloud" he taunts and I jerk back. 

"A cloud? Really? That's the best you could do?" I huff and he smirks. "Hey my second pick was a tissue so..." he shrugs and I scoff, trying to get off his lap but his literal iron grip keeps me pinned.

"Don't call me a cloud, or a tissue or anything in that vein" I scold and I can see the golden glow in his eyes cast a warmth on his cheeks, his efforts to reprogram himself always coming in whenever he senses my true displeasure...although I know it was just a joke. 

"Anything else you would like me to change gorgeous?" he asks before he saves the data. 

"Was there anything else you were going to describe me as?" I glare and he chuckles. "Cotton ball, marshmallow, toilet paper roll I could go on and on" he says and I whack his shoulder. "Don't call me any of those things" I growl and he chuckles, saving it all, the golden glow dimming.

"Noted" he says and leans in to kiss my nose. "Now where were we?" he says and tries to kiss me but I lean back. "We were nowhere" I mumble, pushing his face away and sliding off his lap, him loosening his grip on me however reluctant he was. 

"Come on baby I was just teasing" he says trying to pull me closer but I lean away from him. "No, leave me alone" I mumble and reach for the remote, pulling up the movie we were planning on watching and pressing play.

He looks at me for a little while before sighing and sitting back on the couch, his eyes now on the tv. After a while though I get thirsty so I get up to grab a glass of water, the movie droning on in the background and when I turn around after grabbing a glass Jungkook is there, trapping me against the counter.

"What?" I ask, my tone annoyed but we both can tell how much I'm shaking. "Remember what I told you after I fucked you that first night?" his tone deep, calculated, using what he's learned against me while taking the glass out of my hand, placing it back in the cabinet. 

When he notices my hesitation he places his hand on my shoulder sliding it down my waist, then my hip, my ass and halfway down my thigh before hooking it around his waist.

"Easy access" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, one of the more dangerous features that trap me, keeping me under his spell. 

"But-"

"You didn't expect me to just let you sit here all night without enjoying this did you? This adorable little dress with your bare cunt lying just beneath. That spin wasn't very nice darling. Showing me everything only to take it away from me" his degrading tone charming me further.

"Tell me to stop" he says, slotting himself further between my legs but I shake my head. "No? No what gorgeous? No stop? No don't stop? Use your words"

I stay there for a while, watching him, waiting for him to crack but he doesn't. Not this time.

He starts to walk away but I pull him back by his collar, him chuckling as a result. "Don't stop" I mumble, accepting defeat because I know what lies ahead is only pleasure.

His next movements I don't even register. One moment my feet are on the floor and the next not, sitting on the counter while he spreads my legs wide, kneeling down to be eye level with my center, watching as I clench around nothing just from the way he's looking at me.

"Wet for me already? You're going to make a mess on the counter, can't have that, can we?" he sucks his teeth and I shake my head. 

"Should I help?" he taunts while leaning closer, his face between my legs but not close enough.

"You're just torturing yourself at this point gorgeous" he chuckles while I keep quiet, nuzzling against my inner thigh before biting it, making me yelp. He licks and kisses the spot to ease the pain, sucking a mark in the same spot before going back to looking up at me. 

"Please" I say softly and he chuckles and leans in close to my heat, still way too far. "Please...what?" the mechanisms in his lungs making his 'breath' cool, making me squirm to get away from it but his hands hold my hips in place.

"Please eat me out" I finally plead and he chuckles. "See, that wasn't so hard?" he sucks his teeth and before I can come up with a snarky remark he nuzzles his nose between my folds, licking a long stripe through them as his hands clamp down on me further. 

"Stop running" he growls, leaving me lacing my fingers through his hair, moans slipping through my lips while his tongue drags through my lower ones, my eyes rolling back.

His tongue darts inside of me, alternating between kissing and licking, taking his time and nudging his nose against my swollen bundle of nerves.

He moans into me, his need for breath physically impossible, his sole focus trained on making me cum. 

Furrowed brows and eyes closed in concentration are an addictive sight but when his eyes meet mine they glow gold, feeling how that alone makes my heart race. A moan follows when he hits a spot that has me clenching around his tongue, the color further showing dedication in making this incredible for me.

"You're almost there aren't you? So beautiful and angelic making all those pretty noises for me" he says, standing and replacing his tongue with his fingers, smashing his lips against mine, making me taste myself on his tongue while I fall apart on his fingers.

I break the kiss and moan his name as I come undone, my need for air physically imperative in contrast making him chuckle. 

"Spent already doll?" he smirks, kissing my neck while I come back down, his fingers still moving inside me and only pulling out when he knows I can't handle it anymore because of course he knows...he always knows.

"More?" he questions, gripping my thighs and kissing me again, my movements weaker, clearly still in a daze so I shake my head.

"Tired" I mumble and he chuckles, "As you wish my beautiful snowflake" he smirks and scoops me up off the counter and takes me into our room, laying me down and going into the bathroom to get a towel.

"Snowflake is a little better" I rasp as he comes back over, gently cleaning between my legs. "I'll try to be a bit more creative in a sexier way next time" he chuckles, throwing the towel in the laundry basket before slipping into bed next to me.

"You might be on to something" I say and he pulls me closer, resting my head on his chest.

"What do you mean?" he hums, carding his fingers through my hair. 

"This easy access thing definetly works in our favor" I admit and he chuckles, shamelessly grabs my ass and pulling me closer. 

"You're welcome" he says, a smirk tugging at the corer of his lips making me roll my eyes. 

"Goodnight Jungkook" I grumble and he chuckles, "Goodnight love".

~~~~ Series Masterlist

[xamaxenta]

SABO BEING KNOWN FOR INTERREGATIONS AND HAS A TEETH NECKLACE basically his go to move in interrogation is yanking teeth and he always keeps them in his stash and has a necklace of all his favorite victims teeth-

i am becoming unhinged WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!

OH? ????Hello anon you’d like to discuss the intricacies of my favourite whiteboy bastard !!!

Perhaps not a necklace thats crude even for Sabo, would you be open to considering his toothy trophy being a decorative piece like artfully laid out he has charts… data if you will on which ones prompt the most interesting results (information)

tooth pulling imo plays off better as a psychological tactic more than a guarantee, i love the idea of Sabo utilising it as a threat more so than an act he particularly enjoys

But hes not just a barker hes got the bite and the grip strength to prove it, so imagine him getting chummy with his target

Hes been seated beside them for a while now, no amount of banter or threats to their family or personal general safety is budging them so he stands up with a crisp sigh and strides off stage right to return wheeling a very

Ominous steel cart, you know the one those surgical trolleys

And laid out are his tools, most are just medieval barbaric imitations of generic forceps which is all hes really gonna need tbh but its about PRESENTATION

And beneat the tray of tools is a neat velvet display of all the past teeth hes harvested

He smiles, not a single. Tooth of his own missing oh hes fucking rubbing it in isnt he? Gets personal again like ah, Major corporal blahblah was it? You know ive dabbled in minor surgery before and suturing isnt really my thing, field medicine is guerilla warfare in of itself, medically speaking and im better at fishing than casting heh.

Hes so funny lol laughs at his own joke as he busies himself with the trolley

So theres a choice here, game start! You could pick the easy way out sell out, save yourself your bonney lass and the baby youve got on the way or we can do this the less than profitable way which is i gather some down payment but trying to hear you through the snot, blood and tears will be excessively annoying and taxing for me yknow?

Mismatched eyes crinkling up hes really a devil in disguise 🥰

[ohtoseni]

filling the void

one

zemo x oc

read on ao3

zemo lost his wife and son. celeste never had a loving family. they fill each other’s void.

tags/warnings: ddlg, slow romance, psychological obsession, dom/sub, daddy kink, smut + fluff, mutual pining, pet names, domestic discipline, tpe

When it came to working with Sam and Bucky, Celeste always felt less than worthy. They had saved the world countless times, and what had she done in her twenty-five years on Earth? Graduated with a Computer Engineering degree she hardly used? Taught preschoolers music for a living? It all seemed so insignificant compared to their feats and titles. Yet here she was, working their back-end tech support from the safe house for some crazy post-grad internship she somehow landed.

“Celeste? You got eyes on us still?” Sam spoke up over comms as he navigated the underground, defunct Hydra bunker. She brought up the holo map of the bunker, their location blinking a bright red as they moved throughout the hallway.

She nodded to herself after confirming the cameras were still operational. “Yes, sir. All good on my end. Need anything?”

There was a brief silence on the line. Celeste almost spoke again to confirm that she was heard before Sam’s voice crackled back to life. “Nope. And stop that ‘sir’ shit. Makes me feel old.”

“Well, this kid is fucking young, ” Bucky said, his voice teasing and benign. It took a while for Celeste to get used to his dry humor, but once she got past his well-built walls, she realized he was more of a lovingly annoyed older brother type. Scary dog energy, but it was all a façade to protect himself. She understood why.

She gave a soft smile despite herself and leaned back in the squeaky old office chair. The safe house’s makeshift command center was cobbled together from ancient tech and mismatched furniture, but she’d managed to bring some order to the chaos. Half a dozen monitors flickered in front of her, each running something, be it surveillance feeds, heat maps, biometric tracking, or the slowly compiling logs of data she’d been pulling from the Hydra server.

A small alert blinked red in the corner of the central screen. Camera fourteen, corridor D: still offline. She frowned, fingers flying across the keys to run a quick diagnostic. No errors were read, and there were no signs of tampering. Just a dead line.

Celeste glanced at the log for the last motion it detected: Baron Zemo. Timestamped nearly two hours ago.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before toggling to the encrypted subchannel.

“Baron, this is Celeste checking in. Please confirm your location.”

She waited. Ten seconds. Twenty. Nothing.

Not unusual. He wasn’t one to always adhere to protocol. Still, the silence made her uneasy.

Muting the comm channel, Celeste exhaled quietly and ran her palms down the front of her jeans. She wasn’t scared of him, not exactly. He hadn’t so much as raised his voice around her, but he carried a kind of stillness that made her skin crawl. Nothing threatening, just far too aware, like he saw too much without saying anything at all.

Zemo was polite, to a fault. His words were polite, and his gaze was unreadable. He never teased her the way Bucky did, never challenged her the way Sam sometimes did. Never once did he call her by just her name- always preceded by the title ‘Miss,’ like he didn’t quite know where to place her.

But really, Celeste didn’t know where she fit in on this team, either.

Her eyes drifted toward the corner of the room, where Zemo’s coat still hung over a chair. His notebook lay open on the table beneath it, pages filled with cramped, tidy handwriting in Sokovian. She never looked at it. Not because she wasn’t curious but because she got the feeling whatever was written there wasn’t meant for the living.

She returned her focus to the monitors.

“Bunker status remains stable,” she said into the main channel, her music sidechain muting with the activity of the comms channel. “Environmental levels normal. Still no new heat signatures in adjacent corridors. You’re clear to proceed east.”

Another pause. Then Sam again, steady and easy.

“Copy that. You’re doing great, Celeste.”

She blinked at the words, a blush rising softly across her face at the praise. She said nothing in return as her brain took a beat too long to properly catch up.

It wasn’t much, but it made her sit up a little straighter.

Music filled her headset softly as the comms died down again. She lowered the volume on her headset and refocused her attention on the feed in quadrant three. The familiar rhythm of fingers typing on the keyboard brought her back to earth as she compiled the last batch of corrupted files pulled from the defunct mainframe. Bits of audio logs, scrambled biometric data, and half-rendered floor plans alongside unfamiliar names, meaningless numbers, and fragments of history she couldn’t make sense of.

The server fans hummed as the data downloaded, filling the safehouse with a technological white noise. It felt comforting and familiar.

Camera fourteen remained stubbornly black as she glanced back at corridor D. Celeste tapped her nails softly against the desk out of annoyance. Maybe he’d just gone for a walk, needed a break from the old, built-up dust that littered the bunker. Maybe he didn’t feel like being watched. Or maybe he wanted to disappear; men like Zemo didn’t exactly move with permission. Still, she couldn’t help but check the heat map one more time. Still only two signals in the bunker.

Suddenly aware of how still the room had become, Celeste pulled her cardigan tighter around her body. She didn’t want to think about how far underground she truly was or how long it had been since she’d seen another person’s face.

Then, the faintest creak of floorboards behind her filled the room. Soft and deliberate steps made their way into the room. Celeste’s breath caught.

Just slightly, she turned around enough to glance over her shoulder without fully turning in her chair. Zemo stood in the doorway.

He made no effort to announce himself. His sleeves were rolled neatly to his forearms, one hand resting casually in his pocket. The other held a half-drunk glass of water. Or vodka. She couldn’t tell.

He nodded once after being spotted. “Miss Celeste.”

Her voice nearly caught in her throat. “Baron.” She straightened, clearing her throat. “Why weren’t you responding to comms?” Celeste tried to keep her voice a neutral curiosity rather than an aggressive accusation.

“I was otherwise occupied,” he said mildly. His tone wasn’t unkind, but it held that infuriating elegance that made everything he said sound vaguely condescending even when it wasn’t intended to be.

As if knowing the new presence in the safe house, Sam’s voice broke through her music as he spoke to Celeste. “Any eyes on Zemo? Haven’t seen him in a bit down here.”

“He’s back with me,” Celeste confirmed. She pressed the pause button on her music, ending the sidechained link completely. Through the voice channel, she could sense Sam and Bucky’s discomfort with her being alone with the war criminal.

“We’re heading back,” Bucky finally said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Hopping off comms for now.”

Celeste nodded absentmindedly as she closed the communication channel. Leaning back in her chair, she finally relaxed as her work ended, turning off each monitor one by one. The room dimmed with each monitor shutting off screen by screen until only the soft ambient light from the server rack cast a dull blue glow across the floor. Celeste stretched her fingers out in her lap, trying to work out the tension in her joints and back from being hunched over the keyboard for so long. Her body buzzed with alertness, but there was nothing left to do. No more feeds to track, no voices in her ear. Just her and Zemo waiting for Sam and Bucky.

“You are very quiet,” Zemo remarked, bringing the glass to his lips again.

“I don’t mind the quiet,” she said eventually, not sure why she responded the way she did.

Zemo’s smooth voice came a few moments later. “Most people do.”

Celeste shrugged, her cardigan slipping from one shoulder. She tugged it back into place without thought. As she turned toward him in her chair, she caught him mid-sip, his fingers pausing briefly before setting the glass back down once he realized she was watching.

“Do you always hold yourself apart like this?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard. She blinked, a little unsure whether it was a criticism or a genuine inquiry, before asking him to elaborate.

Zemo tilted his head slightly, studying the way she squirmed with his unnerving stillness. “You act as if you’re in the way. Unsure of where you belong.”

Celeste swallowed hard, feeling warm under his watch. She wasn’t sure what compelled her to speak, but the words came out anyway. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to fit, I guess. I think I keep waiting for someone to realize they picked the wrong person.”

“That feeling does not go away; you simply learn how to wear it better,” he replied, letting out a soft breath shaped like a laugh. “You are not the wrong person, Miss Celeste.”

——

The flight back to DC was noisy, as per usual.

Sam and Bucky were in the trenches of one of their usual arguments- loud, animated, and toeing the line between banter and palpable frustration. This time, the subject was Zemo’s disappearance mid-mission.

“You were the one watching that corridor!”

“No, you said to circle around! I followed your lead!”

The man in question sat quietly across from them, legs crossed at the knee, calmly reading a book as if he weren’t the centerpiece of the chaos. The corners of his mouth twitched in detached amusement.

No one mentioned that, technically, Celeste had been the last one tracking his location before the camera cut out. Yet, she sat frozen in her seat as if the yelling had been directed at her nevertheless.

Her grip on her phone was tight, her thumbs scrolling past short, looping videos that barely registered in her mind. Celeste wasn’t really watching them, only using them to look busy or distracted. Her ears rang out with the rise and fall of Sam and Bucky’s voices as her brain tried to decipher present-day voices from past echoes.

No matter how harmless they were, raised voices always triggered something deep within Celeste. The tightening of her chest and the rush of heat to her skin always made her feel like she was back there, the ancient flicker telling her to do something that came too little, too late.

Something her therapist from her undergrad years once said suddenly came to mind, a half-remembered phrase from some long-ago session:

“There was always an angry man in your home. Of course you flinch.”

She stared at the screen unblinking, barely breathing. Desperately, she tried to distance herself from the argument.

From his seat, Zemo watched her over the top of his book.

He’d noticed it before: how quickly her posture would change and stiffen when the room got too loud. The way her fingers curled in toward her palms when someone shouted, even only in jest. Silence had its own volume, and Celeste’s was deafening.

Zemo watched her shoulders rise and fall too quickly as she tried to regulate her breathing. Watched as she swallowed down whatever she was feeling, not wanting to come across as needy or dramatic. Her knee began to bounce just slight enough to have gone unnoticed by any untrained eye.

But he noticed.

Carefully, Zemo closed his book, marking his page with a long, thin ribbon.

“Gentlemen,” his voice was mild and clear, “If I may offer an observation.

Sam paused mid-rant with an exasperated, “ What? ”

Zemo subtly nodded toward Celeste. “Your volume is distressing the young lady.”

Both men turned as they slowly realized Celeste hadn’t fully spoken in nearly an hour. She froze under their sudden attention, eyes wide with embarrassment at being found out.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice high and quick to dissolve herself of any attention. “Really. I don’t mind.”

But Zemo hummed, unbothered by her deflection. “You mind very much. You simply haven’t been taught that it’s acceptable to say so.”

The words landed softly, free of blame and matter-of-fact. For once, no one had a snappy comeback.

She looked down at her phone again, blinking quickly as if it would dissipate the heat from her cheeks.

Wordlessly, Zemo stood and smoothed a wrinkle from his slacks before walking past. As he passed Celeste’s chair, he slipped a small foil-wrapped square from his coat pocket and placed it gently on the armrest.

A piece of dark chocolate.

Celeste stared at it, then looked up at his retreating figure, startled. He didn’t speak, nor did he turn around to face her. Her eyes returned to the small peace offering, and she quietly unwrapped it with shaking fingers.

Her breathing slowed- just a little- as the chocolate button melted on her tongue.

[starg0ld]

Fracture ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Albedo x OC

context: an ominous, unknown virus has unleashed its wrath upon the serene regions of Mondstadt and Liyue. Those unfortunate enough to fall victim to this insidious contagion are transformed into bloodthirsty creatures, driven by a primal hunger for violence. Among the afflicted is Aurein, now teetering on the brink of madness. Desperate to save him, Albedo scrambles to perfect an experimental serum to restore Aurein's humanity.

Albedo’s journal - 07 October

I don’t know exactly when everything changed.

One day I was treating him, the next I was chasing him through the alleys like a wounded animal. And in between… too many things left unsaid.

The transformation was an act of necessity. The alternative was death. And yet, every time he looks at me, I wonder if he thinks it would have been better to die.

I saw him drink blood for the first time. Not from a test tube, not from a serum, but from a still warm body.

“You hate me, don’t you?” he asked abruptly.

He fell to his knees right afterward, in a panic. I hugged him and he trembled. Then he pushed me away.

I wanted to tell him that no, that I never hated him. That I was afraid, yes. But never of him.

I said nothing. Just the sound of my notebook closing.

October 11

He started sleeping outside. Only coming back for a few hours, then disappearing again.

Every time I looked at him as if it were the last. Maybe it was.

Sometimes the silence between us is sharper than words. But when we talk…

“You’re just using me for your fucking experiments, Albedo!”

“That’s not true.”

“Then stop writing down every thing I do.”

I can’t stop. But at the same time I don’t want to lose him.

My existence is built on neutrality. He’s anything but neutral.

There’s something unbearable in his eyes. As if he’s waiting for me to do something, to choose. But I’ve never been able to choose.

The tension between us has become electric. Charged. Intimate in a way that I fail to understand.

One night we stood too close, for too long. His hands were shaking. Aurein's mouth was stained with fresh blood. And yet… he seemed like he wanted to kiss me.

I… looked away. I couldn’t. Or maybe… I was too afraid to want it.

October 17

The smell of blood in the room is almost imperceptible, but I smell it. I feel it in Aurein’s rapid heartbeat, in the way his pupils dilate when I get close.

I’ve written down everything: the increased sensitivity to light, the emotional instability, the changes in body temperature. But I can’t write down guilt. That stays out of the records.

I saved his life. That’s a fact. But I don’t know if that counts as truth to him.

Aurein woke up yesterday screaming. “What have you done to me, Albedo?” My name on his lips has become an accusation.

The townspeople talk about a “monster” that roams the night. They don’t know it has a name. They don’t know he’s afraid of himself.

I’ve had to lie to Jean. Again. It’s not like me. And yet I continue.

“I’m trying to help you.” I told him.

“You’re just studying me.” he replied, annoyed.

The wound in his eyes was deeper than any physical change.

I feel… broken. My role as an alchemist demands observation. But my role as a friend?

I’m not sure I know how to interpret it. Especially now, with him shaking, thirsty, angry, broken.

Every night he comes back more agitated. Every day I record new data. But I can’t call it “progress” anymore.

Isaiah asked me why his brother always cries when he thinks he’s not being seen.

October 24

I can’t blame him. But if Isaiah follows him, he’ll never come back.

“I want to kill my father.” Aurein admitted, staring into the distance.

And me?

I’ve been wishing for Rhinedottir to come back since I've moved out to Mondstadt. Now her shadow reappears, demanding answers that I still don’t know if I want, or prepared for.

I can feel Aurein slipping away. But every time I try to hold him back, he struggles. He shouts that he’s not a guinea pig.

He’s right. And yet… it was the only way.

30 October

“Take care of Isaiah. That’s all I ask.”

When he decided to leave, he didn’t say goodbye. He just left a message. Just like my master did. He promised he'd never be like her.

One last show of trust.

He didn’t ask to be found. He didn’t ask for forgiveness. But he left me the only thing in the world that truly matters to him.

I don’t know where he went. But I know he won’t stay still. I know he’s looking for Iskander.

I also know that if he finds him… I could lose him forever.

Will we see each other again?

Yes. I know we will. But I fear that moment more than any failed experiment.

When I'll see him again…we’ll fight again, I’m sure of it.

That I stopped writing down his symptoms the day I started to fear losing him.

But this time, maybe, I’ll tell him what I’ve never said: That he wasn’t just an experiment.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Albedo sits in his dimly lit lab, the flickering glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the cluttered workspace. The relentless sound of rain pelts against the windows, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the late night solitude. Outside, the stormy night wraps the world in a blanket of darkness, but inside, the warm light illuminates stacks of papers, intricate diagrams, and half finished experiments.

Aurein stands at the entrance, his clothes drenched from the downpour, droplets streaming from his white hair and soaking the floor beneath him. His eyes, usually bright and clear, are now bloodshot, hinting at a long day filled with worry. He shifts uneasily, water dripping from the tips of his fingers, but Albedo remains focused on his task, scribbling notes with rapid precision, oblivious to the world beyond his work. It isn't until the sound of the rain intensified that he finally glance up, his expression shifting from concentration to concern at the sight of his friend.

Aurein breaks the heavy silence that hung in the air, his boots thudding against the ground with deliberate force as he stomps forward, each step echoing the intensity of his emotions. The sound reverberates through the stillness, drawing rh alchemist's attention attention and signaling his unyielding determination. "You're still doing this?! Really? I'm saying something and you're... writing?!"

Albedo barely glances up from his meticulously organized stacks of papers, his attention seemingly entranced by the intricate diagrams and notes scattered across the desk. His voice is calm and measured as he responds, rich with the authority that comes from deep knowledge, yet his eyes never leave the pages before him. The ambient light dances across the surface, highlighting the fine lines of his sketches, while he remains immersed in his work, fully focused on the task at hand.

"It's important, Aurein. I've traced a drop in your light tolerance threshold. If I can—"

"Are you serious?" Aurein screams in return, furious. "I just buried a baby. I don't even know how it happened. And you are measuring light tolerance threshold?"

Albedo finally lifts his gaze, exhaustion etched across his features. Despite the weariness tugging at him, his voice carries a measured tranquility, reflecting his unwavering composure in the face of fatigue.

"I'm doing this to help you. You're not stable, and you know it."

"No. You're doing this to understand me. Because I'm an interesting subject. Because I have the right blood, a useful mutation, because—”

“Stop it.”

Aurein's voice escalates dramatically, the intensity of his frustration palpable as he nearly shouts, his words echoing with urgency and emotion.

“Then tell me! Tell me that I am more than a report in your archive. That I am not just a mistake to be corrected.”

Albedo's eyes harden. “You are not a mistake. But you are dangerous. And I am trying to save you despite all this!”

Aurein takes a deep, shaky breath, his chest rising as he attempts to steady himself. The corners of his mouth twitch slightly before he lets out a laugh that echoes through the silence around him. The sound is sharp and hollow, laced with a bitterness that betrays the emotions churning within him. It feels empty, as if he’s trying to grasp at something that has long since slipped away.

“You did not save me. You condemned me. You made a monster of me and then hid behind your notes!”

Albedo rises from his seat with a deliberate calmness, his movements fluid yet purposeful. He strides across the room, each step measured as he draws closer to Aurein. As he reaches Aurein's side, a hint of vulnerability seeps into his usually steady demeanor, causing his voice to tremor slightly as he speaks.

“Do you have any idea what it meant to watch you die? I made a decision. Wrong or not, I made it because I wanted you to live. Even if I can’t say it right… even if I don’t know what you wanted from me.”

Aurein remains completely motionless, his expression contemplative as he respond in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I wanted you. Not the alchemist. Not Rhinedottir’s apprentice. Just… you.”

Silence. Their breathing is the only sound, along with the rain. Albedo seems to want to say something, but the words don’t come. Aurein steps back.

“See? It’s always like this. When I ask for something… you freeze. But as soon as Rhinedottir comes up, or the next big experiment… then you’re there.”

Albedo took a bold step forward, closing the distance between himself and Aurein. His heart raced as he approached him, an impulsive surge of emotions guiding his movements as he leaned in ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto his.

“That’s not true. I’ve saved everything for you. You have no idea what I’ve hidden from the Knights to protect you. What it means to me to see Isaiah sleep peacefully just because you asked me to take care of him.”

Aurein's eyes gleamed with a captivating intensity, reflecting a tumultuous mix of anger and vulnerability. The light danced in their depths, revealing a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Each glance carried the weight of frustration, yet there was also a hint of fragility that made them all the more striking.

"But you're not here for me. You're here for what I've become. For what I can do. And that's what's killing me. Because I still want you beside me even though... you're breaking me."

Albedo murmurs. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"But you did."

A long silence. Then Aurein turns toward the door. He picks up his still wet jacket, throwing it over his shoulders. There's no rush in his gestures, only surrender.

"Don't look for me, Albedo. Not now."

Albedo remains still. Aurein is already on the threshold, but he stops for a second, without even turning.

"Keep Isaiah safe. That's all I ask of you."

The door closes with a thud. The rain continues to beat on the windows. Albedo remains still, his hands clenched into fists. Then he looks at the notebook on the table. He closes it. And for the first time, he writes nothing.

2 November

One day, he didn't come back.

The window was open. The chair was overturned. A piece of paper with a single sentence:

"Don't let me chase you."

The truth is... I miss him. Damn.

The Knights ordered a hunt for the "vampire". I didn't say anything. I chose not to argue. But in reality, I didn't even have time.

And it's ironic: I was created to be heartless, and now I feel empty without him.

I don't know where Aurein is. I don't know who he'll become.

But one thing is for sure. When I'll see him again, he won't be the same.

And neither will I.

[bahamutgames]

AFTERTHOUGHTS - ROUNDUP ROUND 5

July 2023

Here we go again! I did NOT expect to play so much this month but I... yknow... kinda... got back into gaming in a special little way. I gave it up for a bit cause I was using a hand me down laptop that couldn't run games well, and I was having some phobias about data loss. Then I got a new laptop and while I did do a little bit, I mostly starting focusing on finally playing actual PC games and more indie games that were always out of my grasp as a dedicated console gamer.

Anyway I played a SHIT TON of games and hopefully I'll be able to play more and more. I have a gaming laptop, I have a big ass hard drive, and I have NO MONEY! SO LET'S PARTY!!!

Pikmin (October 26, 2001) - Gamecube

Ah, Pikmin. I've actually had a huge soft spot for this series for a long time. I always loved the world and characters. I remember writing an essay on Pikmin 2 in elementary school, and my mom convinced me to start journaling by telling me Olimar kept a journal lol. But you'll probably be shocked to learn that I NEVER beat this game! I've always been really bad at it and would get sad when my Pikmin died so I gave up on it. But with the power of save scumming, I was able to get the confidence needed to clear through it.

For positives this game is GORGEOUS. Even for gamecube trying to look hyper realistic (in the environments at least lol) I'm actually blown away by how good it looks! Playing on Dolphin may have helped but damn this game's graphics have ages AMAZINGLY. The whole game is also just so charming. Everyone's designs are really cute and delightful. From the Grubdogs to the SS Dolphin itself, their designs are lovely and everything is filled with such personality and charm. I love how goofy and squash-and-stretchy the Pikmin are. It's all so adorable even when facing themes on the cruelty of nature lol. Music is also FANTASTIC, gameplay is fun, I love the story and ending (the part with all the onions was SO cute.) I loved figuring out ways to get parts quicker and trickier, like one part is being guarded by 3 Burrowing Snagrets but you only need to kill the farthest to get it. So I had a bunch of Pikmin grab it and carry it out of the arena while I distracted the other two with a smaller army. It was very neat.

But I will say for all that praise this game is fucking ANNOYING! The Pikmin are so determined to die! I'll be doing everything in my power to keep them safe and they just gloriously run into any body of water or explosion they can. It's so frustrating and is a big reason I decided to emulate it despite owning the game physically. This could get especially frustrating when trying to precise things to get certain ship parts and having to deal with Pikmin stupidity combined with annoying hyper aggressive enemies. But despite that, every day since beating it all I can think is "damn I wish I was still playing Pikmin." So you can expect me to try Pikmin 2 very soon!

Sonic the Fighters (June 1996) - Gamecube

Sonic the Hedgehog? Check. Fighting Game? Double Check. Somehow I've gone my whole life and NEVER played this game!! I've had friends talk about how good it was for ages and it's literally two of my favorite things combined. So I'm very happy that I finally gave it a whirl. I played through Arcade on the easiest difficulty as Sonic!

And may I just say, I only played a little bit. So maybe I didn't get the full experience, but the gameplay in this SUCKS. In general I'm not a huge fan of 3D fighting games over 2D ones. But the enemies are so ruthlessly brutal for NO reason and it genuinely made some fights IMPOSSIBLE to get past. Particularly Tails and Metal Sonic. I am not proud of the swears I shouted at this game just trying my hardest to clear the Arcade mode. And it's endlessly frustrating to me that this game seems to get so much more love and be more popular than Sonic Battle which is LEAGUES better! WHY ARE SO MANY OF SONIC'S SMASH BROS. MOVES FROM THIS AND NOT BATTLE!?

But, I will say. I totally get why people like it. Pretty much everything outside of the combat totally fucking rules. The character models are cute, charming, and full of personality. The menus are nice, the music is GREAT. The plot is cute and works. The level backgrounds are AMAZING, seriously they look WONDERFUL! And I particularly really loved the final boss. Where the Death Egg is exploding and Eggman comes out with a self destruct timer, and then that timer turns into the match timer. SUPER cool touch. This game is really cool in spite of being kinda annoying to play.

Anyway, new Sonic 2D Fighter made by Arc System Works next please!!

Soul Calibur 2 (July 5th, 2002) - Gamecube

Oh boy, another 3D Fighting Game. Here we go. Soul Calibur is a series I've only played once before with SC6. And while the whole aesthetic and concept of this series absolutely RULES, it just doesn't really click with me. I love the weapons, Nightmare is SUCH a bad ass and so is the Soul Edge, I love the over the top narrator who says so much, the edgy fantasy aesthetic rules, and I love the weird guest characters. But it just never fully clicked sadly. BUT, I've heard LOTS of people say it's one of the best fighting games ever so I figured I'm overdue to check it out.

Just like SC6, this game looks great and has great character designs. I'm particularly a big sucker for these gorgeous Gamecube graphics. Lizardman was my main even though I played the arcade as Nightmare (since you can't do arcade as Lizardman which fucking blows.) But yeah I'm just not super into the gameplay. Neat game though. This and Tekken are both neat games I may sit down and try to play all of some day.

Super Monkey Ball (June 23, 2001) - Gamecube

You may be shocked to learn that I've barely touched this series in the past. I've played a Monkey Ball Arcade Machine at a Chuck E. Cheese once... I played the phone version one time... And that's about it! I know it's a really loved series but for whatever reason it just never came into my life before. But I've had a friend tell me I should play it for a while now so I decided, what the heck? Since I'm here I might as well give it a shot.

And yeah it's neat! I totally get why people like it! It's tricky, but honestly a ton of fun. Love the graphics and level aesthetics. Music is nice (I LOVED the final area's music with the rock soundtrack in that edgy colosseum). The characters are all super cute (my favorite Monkey Ball character is that one with pigtails and a raccoon tail but she wasn't in this one sadly.) I love the random Dole cross promotion stuff that was genuinely funny. And I like that you actually control the stage that was neat. My only major issues aside from it being, generally frustrating is that the camera can actually REALLY fuck you over, it tries to kinda hang towards your back. But this can really influence your delicate control over the stage. I had some levels where the camera swinging it around genuinely made it impossible to get over some hills.

Frustrating as it was, I actually remembered that my sister bought a Monkey Ball game on Switch recently, so I can absolutely see myself playing more of this series later.

Guilty Gear X (July 13, 2000) - Playstation 2

Ah, one of the last few Guilty Gear games I haven't played. I'm not sure why, but this one just never seems to get ported anywhere. If I had to guess it's cause it's very similar to XX, but it does have a very unique look to the menus, exclusive stages, and it's own story. So I really think they're overdue to put it on Steam. But oh well, that didn't stop me, I finally sat down and gave it a shot! I of course played through the Arcade as Sol and had a pretty good time with it!

It's GG so of course you already know the music and graphics are AMAZING, it feels great to play and is overall a fantastic package. I actually thought the menu aesthetics this time around were CRAZY good. Everything looks really cool and good and I know the character select is a bit notorious for being kinda difficult to see everything. And yeah that's true but I thought it looked awesome! Overall this game rules and I think it's worth checking out even with XX being a thing. It's interesting to see just how far the quality in sprites and backgrounds improved from Missing Link to X in not even that long of a time (though ML will still be one of my all time favs aha)

My only major complaint is that I thought the Arcade Mode was relentlessly brutal this time around. Once I reached the second half I was massively struggling to get through and I could not beat Dizzy to save my life, it was nuts. I never had this trouble with Missing Link or XX! Maybe it was just the version I was playing or my controller. But this game seriously whipped my ass. Oh well. Still cool.

User Unknwn (July 17, 2023) - PC

It's okay for me to write about games made by friends of mine right? That's cool? It's my tumblr I'll shout out whoever I want. A friend of mine recently released a visual novel and I think you should give it a read! User Unknwn is an interesting and in my opinion, unsettling little visual novel about a strange homebrew app for PSP that causes... Problems let's say.

It talks about dysphoria and struggling with presenting and how people treat you when you're trans. I think it's best you read it yourself to see how you interpret it, but I found it to be very relatable with how it handles these topics and also makes it very creepy and bizarre in a good way. It's got nice visuals, I liked the use of real world photos and scribbles, it's a nice combination. It's got an interesting story and it's actually got an original soundtrack! Which is very good but also cool that they made the effort to include that! Most small indie games will just forgo music altogether or use free music, I'll admit I'm guilty of most of my games being silent. But no, here you get a full soundtrack! Which is honestly awesome! My favorite might be, and I'm sorry I have to type this... "Music That Will Make You Cum Your Pants"

Seeing as how it's a visual novel there's really nothing to complain about. My only complaint is that I'm also an original trilogy Paper Mario guy and I would NOT act like gabe, I'm better than that.

Super Mario 64 Star Road (December 24, 2011) - N64 Mod

Hey! Would you believe that this is probably the first Mario Romhack I've ever beaten? I've played TONS of Mario Fangames in my time. But never any Rockhacks oddly enough. But I recently played Super Mario 64 CO-OP with some friends, and I LOVED IT. You can set it to not boot you out when getting a star, let Mario access moves added to later games, and improve his swimming which makes the game feel SO good and new. It also natively runs fullscreen and has modern controller controls, it feels SO good to play this way (and you can customize Mario's color scheme.) So I did a quick 30 star run in the base game, and wanted more. It came with Star Road so I decided to play through that, and here we are!

STAR ROAD RULES!! It's a brand new game with a fully original hub world, all new stages, 120 brand new stars. Nothing is copied from Mario 64 except for the characters and the base engine and what not, of course. It's literally a whole new experience, and I loved it! I loved the new worlds, my favorites were probably Bob-Omb Island and Fatal Flame Falls! There's tons of areas to see and I don't think I even found them all! The game also has original boss battles like a bunch of big piranha plants which was very cool to see! And I was blown away by just how big the game is. I rushed the to beat the first boss, and then was shocked to see a second hub world! Then the same thing happened and there's a third hub world! This game is crazy massive! It's also got some new enemies, some visuals and stuff from other Mario games, and it was super cute hearing different video game tracks put in the SM64 soundfont for the OST!

The game isn't perfect though. In my opinion it's too long. You need 80 stars to beat it which is already 10 more than the original. And I feel like there's less stars in each world than the original game so you REALLY have to 100% a lot of worlds in order to get everything you need. I 100% cleared almost every main level to get 80 stars which is just a bit too much. I also felt like there were too many instadeath locations. The big bully in the snow world, the piranha plant boss, ect ect. Gloomy Garden was especially guilty for having SO many places to fall off and feeling SO big while also being so empty. That was easily my least favorite stage. BUT aside from that, this was an amazing romhack! I may even come back and 100% it some day!

Pac-Man World 2 (February 24, 2002) - Gamecube

And last but not least, Pac-Man World 2! I played the first one last year I believe, so of course it's only natural we jump into the sequel this year! This one I basically knew nothing about, never watched any videos of it or nothing. I just remember seeing the cover a lot at my local video rental store... I'm not old shut up. (I miss you so much, Screenplay Video...) But I finally gave it a go and I'm glad I did! It's a neat little game!

The game looks very nice, controls nice, I thought the music was good. And I love the story honestly. Spooky is cool and the whole concept with collecting the gold fruit, while simple, is cute and works perfectly. The game also isn't too long, it's shorter than even the first one. Speaking of which, I was really shocked to see how similar it was to the first one. The Rev Roll is still there and it has a lot of the same mechanics with finding fruit and what not. Idk why I just wasn't expect it to be so similar to the first! I do think I might prefer this one though? And the final boss was cool and the first boss was FANTASTIC!!

Speaking of bosses though, this ties in perfectly with what WASN'T that good about it. Dude. The middle 3 bosses are the EXACT same bosses and this boss fight fucking SUCKS. IT'S AWFUL, so I have no idea why they recycled it 3 TIMES but the cool frog boss just got left in the dust. It's so stupid. In addition whole the game itself is short that's only the case cause there's so few levels. Which they had to do cause the levels are SO LONG!! They drag on FOREVER and especially some of the on rails ones can just go and go and go. It's not too hard so it's not that bad but it can noticeable when you're playing a single level for what feels like forever. I also felt like there were a lot of jumps that were just slightly too far to make, I kept ALWAYS grabbing the ledge and rarely landing on platforms, and if you do that on the tons of platforms that fall, it's an instadeath every time. And then the final level felt completely broken. I had no idea what was happening in that stage I would constantly make progress, and then my reward would be being sent back earlier into the level. Wormwood fucking rules though so that's okay.

Regardless! Now that that's over there's only one more game left! Pac-Man World 3! THAT'S the one I've been looking forward to! It's the only one I played as a kid, it's edgy, and Pacman PUNCHES PEOPLE! I can't wait to play it!

---

I also played 2 other games, but really didn't have much of anything to say on them. WarioWare, Inc. Mega Party Game$! which was, neat but really boring without friends. Cutscenes were particularly goofy though. And Capcom vs. SNK 2: Mark of the Millennium 2001 which was a very cool fighting game I've heard people rave about for ages! But I only briefly played it so I'd like to learn how to play it better and give it another go later, particularly after I play more KoF. But hey, look at my funny custom Morrigan color scheme:

[taughtdefense-a]

before today, you didn’t know that furniture shopping was one of the best ways to torture you ( without the threat of vessel death ), but it’s apparent now. it’s boring, overly complicated, & filled with sleazy salespeople. there’s too many things to remember & debate about ( which is mind numbing in & of itself, & frustrating ), too many options to mull over. it’s mind-numbingly boring. you’ve found that purchasing anything is almost always a huge, unnecessary pain in the ass, even for an eldritch being with nearly unlimited powers at your disposal. it’d be so much easier to just make everything you needed appear out of thin air to avoid the need for literally anything, but that’s on you for wanting to be NORMAL even after the big eldritch reveal secret was out. ( but it’s not like you’re short on money, & you like spending time with your loves, even if it’s doing mundane shit that mortals have to do daily. void. how do they stand it ? )

miguel & tory have gotten lost together a total of four times so far in the single hour the five have been here ( panicked text messages from both of them are proof — they’re apparently over by the kitchen section that’s like a fucking maze, with rows of identical looking fridges & backsplashes & flooring options ). you’re sure you would’ve gotten lost, too, if robby & sam weren’t holding both of your hands, one of them on either side. you might have to ask sam to go find miguel & tory, but if sam gets lost… maybe you should have brought emma, icarus & charlie along. there’s strength in numbers, after all.

well, it’s a little late to change your mind. you’re already here in the middle of the store. & you’d already bought the two-story house. you can’t just un-buy it & move back into your now totally empty, entirely unfurnished apartment.

you sigh heavily. you should have just used your powers to get everything you & your fiancés & fiancées wanted. it’d have saved on gas, cellular data, & your fucking sanity.

you scowl as you pass by another row of similar-looking staging rooms. the design is supposed to be minimalist, but it’s fucking ugly. ❝ this thing is fucking ugly. whoever staged this should be fired & catapulted into the sun. ❞ you motion towards it with a nod of your head. as you become more frustrated, the lights throughout the store flash violently. the music momentarily fizzles out, granting you a millisecond of peace.

❝ how the flying fuck do mortals do the whole shopping thing every day ? i’ve never gone shopping in all of my lives, ever. & what reason would i need to ? ❞ you wonder aloud, probably asking the question louder than necessary but you can’t fucking hear anything over the loud music on the speakers overhead. ❝ it’s a freaking waste of time for me. i can feel my sanity slipping away. i hate it here. it’s loud, it’s bright, & it’s so cold in here my hands are turning into icicles. i wanna go home. ❞ you complain, then pause to look at a large, leather, l-shaped couch nearby, looking at it critically. you roll your eyes at the price. yeah, no thank you. it’s a shitty couch.

@taughtpain said: ❝ it's not my fault you thought you lived in this IKEA. ❞

you turn towards robby as you hear his comment, blinking owlishly as if you heard him incorrectly. what the hell does he mean by that ? you don’t live in this ikea store. not yet, anyway. the music in this fucking ikea is too loud, & the lights are too bright. you’re overwhelmed, anxious, annoyed & overstimulated. you’d be running for the fucking exit if you weren’t worried about getting lost.

❝ yeah, well… i might have to move in, if miguel & tory keep getting lost. ❞ you tell him flatly. ❝ oh. look, guys. it’s my new bed. ❞ your tone couldn’t be flatter or more dead than it is right now. without turning to look at him, you shake your head, & the veins in your hands flash red for a brief second, signaling annoyance. an eldritch being, the third ever thing in all existence, furniture shopping. it sounds like the start of a bad joke. if your creators & siblings could see you now... ❝ where’s the freakin’ exit ? ❞ you grumble.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Girls just wanna have fun

AN: Happiest of birthdays to one of my partners in crime, @sidepartskinnyjeans. This fic has been written for her birthday celebration! Love you El!

Beta'd by the other sin sisters, @christywantspizza and @yarnforbrains.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, Mood board and banner by me; rights belong to those who took the pictures.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

CW: Unhealthy familial relationships/toxic parenting, party girl reader, alcohol consumption, mentions of one-night-stands, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f and me receiving), protected vaginal sex), fuck-boi Loki (he's a warning!)

You know what’s worse than being a graduate stuck in a dead-end job completely unrelated to your degree? Being a graduate in a dead-end job who’s had to move back home, tail between their legs, because they have no other choice. It wouldn’t be so bad, except that your parents were always nagging at you.

“When are you going to stop partying, sweetpea, and start living like a grown-up?”

You rolled your eyes as you mom chastised you, yet again, for rolling in on a Sunday morning, last night’s clothes dishevelled, and smelling a bit of various alcohols.

“Come on Ma, I don’t have a lot of joy in my life. Don’t have a go at me for this, please.”

She put her arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a hug.

“I just worry about you, baby.”

“I know you do. I’ll be okay.”

Your father was worse though. He had no patience for what he termed ‘your childish bullshit.’ If you could afford to live on your own you would, just to get away from his shouting.

“You’re making a mess of your life! You need to put more effort in. That’s always been your problem. Maybe if you’d thought more about what to do at school you wouldn’t be stuck with a useless degree and in a rubbish job. Didn’t expect you back here; I can tell you that!”

You ground your teeth, knowing there was no point in arguing back; you just snuck away as soon as you were able, hoping that you could save enough money soon to put down the security on an apartment. Anywhere would do, as long as it was out of here.

You were glad that your job was a steady, stable one. Data entry, no glamour, but you excelled, finding you had a knack for typing fast and accurately. The best thing was that it wasn’t shift work. You worked from 8.30-5pm, Monday to Friday with an hour lunch break. There was nothing about it that you took home with you, so when Friday afternoon rolled around you were free for two days.

You went out most Friday and Saturday nights. Yes, it annoyed your parents, but the irony was, that you went out to escape them and their incessant judgement. Okay, sometimes you might have a bit too much to drink. And sometimes you didn’t make the best choices (cough, cough, Brock Rumlow…), but you were young, trying to enjoy yourself whilst you could. Once you finally moved out of your parents home you’d have even less money and would probably end up a hermit.

Friday night and you turned up at Club SHIELD. Your friends were already there; you’d been held up by another argument with your dad. You tugged at the hem of your wet look black mini-dress, and checked your lipstick in the mirror you kept in your small purse. Slinging the strap over the shoulder you walked up to the doors, blew Sam, the bouncer, a kiss and sauntered inside. You looked good and you knew it.

The music was thumping, the multi-coloured lights swishing over the crowd, and you pushed your way through the throng towards the side of the club where your group always grabbed a table. You waved as you saw Nat, Wanda and Steve, although you weren’t as happy to see Brock tagging along. You supposed it was your fault though. You had encouraged him. More than encouraged him, you acknowledged to yourself as you thought back to a night a few weeks back when you’d had one too many drinks and ended up fucking him in the club bathroom. Now he seemed to think you were a sure thing, and kept hanging around in hopes of a repeat performance.

You slid into the booth next to Nat, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Wanda slid a cocktail glass across the table at you, shouting to be heard over the bass.

You thanked her with a nod of your head and lamented the latest blow-out with your parents. Whilst Steve and Brock continued their own conversation about football,

Nat and Wanda made the right noises and pulled you in for hugs until the older redhead smacked her hand down on the table.

“Okay, that’s enough of that, Sunshine! Time for shots, then dancing!”

You stood from the booth.

“I’ll get ‘em. Five tequilas?”

The others nodded their assent and you swished your way to the bar. It was crowded there, but thanks to judicious use of your cleavage you managed to work your way to the front and get served fairly quickly. You picked up some more cocktails for you, Wanda and Nat and a pair beers for Steve and Brock, and made your way back. Shots knocked back, you and Wanda made your way to the dance floor, leaving Nat and Steve to a make-out session before the red-head would inevitably join you. Brock was still leaning against the side of the booth, watching you.

You were enjoying yourself, you always did, to be honest, dancing your cares and worries away. You danced with Wanda, with Nat and then started to dance with some of the guys around you. It was all fun.

Then you spotted him, leaning against the wall and looking out over the crowd. Tall, slim, but muscular, shoulder length black hair. He had black leather trousers on, an emerald green tee and an open black shirt over the top. Gold lip and eyebrow rings glinted under the flashing lights.

He looked like a bad boy.

He looked delicious.

You smiled at him and danced in his direction. As you got up next to him, you saw his eyes were also a green-ish colour, the skin around the corners of them crinkling as he observed you approach, an echoing smile spreading across his own features.

“Hey, tall, dark and brooding, you got a name?” You walked your fingers up the open buttons of his shirt.

“For a beautiful lady, always. I’m Loki. And you are?”

You leant forward to speak in his ear, giving him your name.

“Pleased to meet you,” he drawled. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m always ready to dance, Loki.” You took hold of his hand, marvelling at how long and slender his fingers were, and pulled him along behind you. You started to dance with him, getting closer and closer together. You laughed and smiled coyly at him, standing up on your toes to shout in his ear.

“At the risk of being cheesy, do you come here often?”

You could see him chuckling, although you couldn’t really hear it over the music. He draped his arms over your shoulders and pulled you closer, bending down to reply. His breath was hot on your ear, but it made you shiver.

“First time, but my brother and his friends come here all the time. He’s over there.” Loki stood up straighter and pointed. You turned your head and realised that you were looking back at your own table. There, next to Steve, was a hulking blonde man, who you recognised as Thor. You whipped your head back round.

“You’re Thor’s brother? Well, what a small world. My friend Steve knows him.”

“A small world indeed.”

You grinned back at him and continued to dance, moving closer, so that you were almost grinding on his thigh. He looked down at you, eyes hooded, a small smile twitching at his lips. His hands moved to your hips, helping you sway against him, and then, making sure he was looking you right in the eye, pulled you that last inch. The silk of your underwear slid up and down the leather of his trousers as you stared at each other. You pulled your lower lip in between your teeth and then gasped as his tongue snuck out from between his own lips to moisten them; he had a gold tongue stud to match the jewellery in his nose and eyebrow.

Your eyes widened as thoughts about how Loki could use that tongue stud to his advantage ran rampant through your mind. His smile grew broader in response, as if he could read your mind. His head dipped down closer, his nose brushing against yours, your breath mingling. It felt like a buzz of electricity between you and your eyelids fluttered as his lips brushed yours, all too briefly. He pulled his head back up just far enough to murmur in your ear.

“Let’s leave early…”

You took hold of the collar on his shirt and dragged him back down. You weren’t the shy and retiring type; you took what you wanted when it was offered to you so beautifully and eagerly. You kissed him with all the passion you could muster, almost swooning in his arms as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting you.

You didn’t really recall leaving the club and only had a vague recollection of walking down the cold and dark streets with Loki, holding hands, fingers entwined, and stopping every few minutes for a filthy make out session that had you rubbing up and down him like a cat in heat. You did remember him mumbling something about it all taking too long, before he started to drag you along at slow jog. You laughed as you ran with him, and when you finally got to the door of the house he shared with Thor and the others, you had your hands in the back pockets of his pants, squeezing his ass cheeks and pressing kisses to his back through his shirt.

“You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you?”

“Says the man who just dragged me along the sidewalk at full pelt.”

He just kept grinning at you, taking both your hands in his, walking backwards and leading you up the stairs. You smiled back, and licked your lower lip suggestively, until you reached the landing. Then Loki was kissing you again, one hand coming up to cup your face as he walked you along until you entered his room. It was cramped and cluttered; the only light came from a bedside lamp, but the bed was a double.

You both tumbled down on to it, a brief giggle making its way past your lips before Loki was kissing you again. You rolled onto your back, pulling him over you, your hands pushing up past his shirt and tee, your fingers digging into the firm flesh. You could feel the stud in his tongue rubbing over your own and it was making you feral. You pushed his black shirt from his shoulders and then started to pull his tee up his torso. He broke the kiss long enough to draw it over his head and toss it across the room, a broad grin lighting up his face. You ran your hands up his chest, not overly broad but definitely delicious. He had bars through his nipples and you couldn’t help but pinch the little nubs, delighting in how he shivered and let out a small whimper. You bucked your hips and flipped the pair of you. As you straddled his leather clad hips your short dress rucked up so you grabbed the hem and pulled it up and off, the black fabric joining his t-shirt on the floor.

Loki’s eyes devoured your form as you hovered over him, and his hands ghosted up your sides, feeling the softness of your skin as his fingertips grazed the underside of your bra. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, and with your hands pressed onto his smooth pecs, you ground your clothed pussy against the bulge struggling inside his leather pants.

“Is that how it’s going to be, darling? You testing my patience? Teasing me?”

“Who said I’m teasing?”

You grinned as you replied, before unclasping your bra and sending it the same way as the rest of your clothes. Loki surged under you, taking one fat nipple between his lips, running his tongue stud over it and gently pinching the other. Your hand snaked between you and started to work on the fly of his pants. Somehow, he lifted his hips slightly and, without breaking the contact between his mouth and your breast, worked his pants and briefs down. They ended up stuck around his knees, as you refused to move from your perch above him. He didn’t seem to mind though, if his stiff cock was any indication. You wrapped your hand around it and shimmied down his body.

Like a cocky bastard he lay back, hands behind his head as he watched your mouth approach him, but you knew what you were doing, making him gasp when you lapped at his salty slit with the tip of your tongue. You let the taste linger on your mouth, before letting out a string of your saliva to run down him, smearing it over his silken flesh with your hand. Then, making sure his gaze was on you, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling on it, and lathing it with your tongue. You slowly lowered yourself, further and further down, until you were taking as much as was comfortable, your spit slicked hand covering the rest of him. You smiled to yourself when you felt his hands on your head, not there to control you, but just to feel you. You deployed all of your varied and numerous tricks and delighted in the way he shook, shivered, and moaned under you until his hold on your head tightened, and he drew you up and off him, with a husky “Enough”.

Lust blown eyes met lust blown eyes as a string of mixed saliva and precum stretched between your bodies, still connecting your mouth to his cock. He dragged you back up for a filthy kiss before sliding out from under you so he could shuck the pants that were still hobbling him.

“My turn, darling!”

From the look on his face, you were in trouble, and you were all onboard for it. Almost before you could blink, he’d drawn your panties down, knelt between your soft thighs, and thrown your legs over his shoulders.

Loki attacked your folds with precision, twirling his tongue stud over the sensitive tip of your clitoris, before moving to spear into you with the flexible muscle. You mewled and bucked against his face, as he drove you higher, towards your peak.

“Oh god, Loki! Fuck!”

He hummed against you, before returning his mouth to your clit, sucking on the stiff bud, and slowly pushing two of his fingers into you. You wailed and your back arched as he curled his fingers and started to stroke inside you. You fingers tangled into his long ebony hair, and he moaned into your pussy as you fucked yourself on his face. Your orgasm crashed into you, waves of pleasure rolling through your body and Loki slowed his ministrations gently, waiting for you to indicate you were done. A gentle tug on his head had him moving back up your body. His face glistened with your release, and you pulled him in for another kiss, moaning at how filthy it was to taste yourself on him.

Loki’s lithe body pressed you into the mattress, his hips rutting against yours and his impatient cock leaking over your stomach as your tongues tangled. You pulled your head away, hands cupping his face.

“You better have a condom somewhere in this room that you can put on, cos I need you in me Loki, like right now.”

He chuckled deeply, a sound that seemed to go straight to your weeping and slick core.

“Far be it for me to disappoint a lady.”

You let him pull away from you, and he reached into his bedside drawer, withdrew the small foil packet and sheathed himself. He was back in a moment, kissing you once more, and you twined your arms around his neck and hooked a leg over one of his hips. He reached down to guide himself to you, and then he was pushing into your tight heat.

You both groaned in unison, as he carefully carved himself a space inside you. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed, as he bottomed out, breathing slowly. You clenched your muscles experimentally, inwardly grinning when he let out a little moan. You then started to rock your pelvis, the leg you had around his hip encouraging him to move against you.

His eyes snapped open.

“Still being a minx, I see.”

You smiled at his statement, but the expression was short lived as he ground his hips in a circle and his cock brushed against the sensitive part of your inner walls.

“Fuck, yes! Shitting hell!”

He pulled back slowly, before sliding all the way back in, to the hilt, forcing more curses from you

“Oh fuck!”

Not to sound like Goldilocks, but Christ, if his cock wasn't ‘just right’.

He set up a leisurely pace then, not too fast, not too slow, with just the right amount of ferocity. With one hand he held himself up over you, the other gripped your hip, your flesh spilling out between his fingers. Part of you hoped you might bruise, so you’d have a longer reminder of this night.

He ducked his head to suck on your breasts again, flicking at your nipples with his tongue stud. His eyes darted up to yours when you brought two of your fingers to your mouth, sucking on them, before reaching down past the hard planes of his abs, where they pressed against your softer, rounded ones, until you reached your clit and started to rub against it.

Your other hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into his flesh.

God, you were so turned on, lewd squelching noises coming from where you were joined, with every thrust of Loki’s hips. He abandoned your breasts, his sharp teeth nipping at your neck, your jaw, your lower lip.

“Come-on darling, I need you to come for me! Fuck, you’re so luscious, so goddamn sexy…”

You could tell he was struggling to keep his rhythm, holding himself back from his own orgasm with all his will power. It was this knowledge that tipped you over, the feeling of holding absolutely power over Loki’s pleasure so sinfully erotic.

Your muscles clenched down as your hips rocked up against his, high-pitched squeaks, whines and curses spilling from your lips. You felt him jerk and shudder within you, his lips capturing your cries and filling your mouth with his own, as he came.

He managed to thrust through his aftershocks, each ragged movement eliciting another cry from you as your sensitive walls continued to spasm. With a gasp, Loki’s head came to rest, face down, on the pillow next to your own, his sweat streaked body a pleasing weight on top of you.

He lay there for a few moments, catching his breath and coming down, before he turned to face you, mouth grinning, eyes sparkling in the low light.

“You okay, darling?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. But I do need to go to the bathroom though.”

You wiggled, playfully, under him and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before lifting himself up with an over dramatic groan, holding onto the condom. He disposed of it quickly and grabbed his dressing gown from the back of the door.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an en-suite. Erm, bathroom’s just down the hall.”

He passed you the robe and you put it on, glad to note there was a decent enough overlap at the front. You padded down the corridor to the bathroom, quickly refreshing yourself, before returning to his room. You wondered what would happen now. Would he offer to call you a cab?

You were pleased though, to find he was tidying his bed and that all your clothes had been collected and folded neatly on the top of his dresser. He pulled you back into his arms, kissing you once again.

“Would it be too needy of me to ask you to stay? I’d love to cook you breakfast.”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, before taking the robe off and pushing him back towards the bed.

“Mmm, I wasn’t sure, but you’ve persuaded me with the promise of breakfast.”

He dragged you down with him, arranging you half across him, you head resting on his chest. Your fingers lightly flicked at one of his nipple bars, and you smiled as he shook slightly.

“Is that how it is, minx? Only want me for my cooking skills, huh?”

“Of course”, you teased. “What else could I want you for? Now sshh, I need my beauty sleep.”

“I’d argue with that, but my mother always taught me to agree with a lady.”

You yawned, feeling relaxed and happy. Who knew where this would go, but you’d both had fun at least. You drifted off as Loki’s hand drifted up and down your side, smiling to yourself.

Tag list: @turbolisedcomet @animnerd @viva-asgardia @goldylions

[warcriminalcommie]

Hey guys welcome back to another episode of Ay ruining your day because HAAAA.

Felt like we needed some depressing shit here that isn't depressing in the "What did you do you to him? Wh-Why? I'm gonna go vomit now what the fuck did I just read—" way so have angst. :bbg_emoji:

Also if you feel like you've seen this before, that's because you probably have. I yoinked this from my Wattpad because I'm (not) cool.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Blue Or Brown, Can't Remember

It's been a few months since Deimos had passed. Almost more than half a year. Specific period. But that's because that event kept haunting you, replaying in your head. Hah, replay. Even thinking of that word reminds you of his stupid song that he'd bug you with. Funny how you'd describe it as him annoying you back then when now you'd do anything for him to just come back and pester you with his stupidity just once more.

You really couldn't get your mind off of him. Everything would remind you of him and the stuff you'd do together as friends. As friends. Nothing but friends. That's what it was, what it was and what it always will be due to you taking him for granted. You thought he'd always be there. That one day, you'll eventually get the courage to confess to him. Or hell, maybe he'd confess to you! I mean, he did seem to take an interest in you. But that'll remain unknown for the rest of eternity, or at least the rest of your life, because he's gone. Gone forever.

You didn't even get to say goodbye. You weren't even there when it happened. Every day you keep thinking about it. All the 'what if's and 'if only's filling your brain. Just like how it's filling it right now, as you sit here and ponder your now meaningless life.

"What if I was there?"

"What if I took the bullet instead of him?"

"If only I saved him."

"If only it could've been me."

These thoughts kept harassing you. You couldn't take it anymore. It was all you could think of. You could barely experience any form of happiness without you being pulled back into this state of constant, unhealthy grief.

"If only, if only, IF ONLY!!" You screamed out, tears in your eyes. You didn't even care if Hank or Sanford heard you from their rooms. You just couldn't take this anymore. It was literal hell on earth. 

Hell on earth...

Huh.

Makes you wonder where your beloved little chain-smoker is right now. The thought had just popped into your head. Now instead of regret, you felt fear. Fear, worry, and concern. You hoped that he was somewhere safe, his soul resting in peace from this hell you all called Nevada. 

You shook your head, trying to get these thoughts away. But you couldn't. God, how much you missed him. His dumb jokes, his stupid personality, his voice, his scent of tobacco, his eyes... His...eyes... Huh. Now that you think of it, you can't even remember his facial features, or any of his features for that matter. You had a hint in your head that his eyes might have been either blue or brown, but you can't seem to remember.

That thought made you get up from your bed to go and look for a photo of him, or anything similar to that. You looked and looked until it hit you that you haven't kept any sort of archive of him. That thought made you freeze in your place. Tears started stinging your eyes, the sour feeling setting in. The fact that you don't even have anything to remember Deimos with broke you.

You immediately and frantically opened your phone. You scrolled and scrolled on every app that you had, back and forth and went through every single piece of data there. And... Nothing. No chat logs, no conversations, no images, nothing. It can't be possible... Can it?? Oh, wait...

It can.

And that's because in a fit of pure anguish, you decided to erase what little you had of Deimos left on your device so you can forget about him. So you can heal faster. It all moved to your "Recently deleted" folder, but you had forgotten to move the files back where they belonged. As for the chat logs... They never had any hope of being restored easily after you deleted them. Only someone with complicated tech knowledge could do that job so easily.

Someone like him.

And there you go... Remembering him again... Gosh, you really were dependent on him, huh? You started to think about life before him. It was... Bad. To say the least. It might just be because of the fact you lived in this pathetic excuse of a state, but who knows? You certainly don't since your view of the past, yourself, everyone and the whole fucking world has been contorted after this little incident 

It's all just so absolutely meaningless now. So worthless and nugatory. It all felt so dull without him. He was the spark of joy in your life that you didn't know you needed. That you didn't appreciate enough. That you took for granted.

You sighed, laying on your bed again, staring at the ceiling. You felt the tears dry but then you just burst out, again. You took a shaky breath, trying to regain composure. You felt so hopeless. It just hurt so much to cry over and over again. You couldn't take it anymore. To make it all even somehow worse, your nose had started burning thanks to all the tissues. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself by at least a bit, but you simply kept breaking down mid-breath.

Choking on your own breath and panting heavily, you sighed, tears falling down your face. You were so damn exhausted from crying. It felt like shit, but you couldn't stop. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and your lungs felt like they were beating. It started to physically hurt you. Is this how Deimos felt?

...

Why?

Why?

Just why?

Why did you have to remember him again? And why did it have to be that memory out of everything?

Why couldn't he leave your mind? Why couldn't he let you be? Why can't you just let this thought disappear? Why can't you repress it like all the horrible things you've repressed?

Was he haunting you? I mean, in your current state, you'd probably be delusional enough to believe that he does still live on as some sort of undead entity. Thankfully, that thought didn't cross your mind. Yet.

Trying to clear your mind out of all these thoughts just made you feel worse. Again. All you did was remember how you could have treated Deimos better. All the insults you'd throw at him, all the hits, punches, kicks, all the mean comments. You meant it in a joking, friendly, light-hearted manner. But it still made you feel like shit.

What if he didn't catch the hint?

What if he took it as genuine?

What if he hated you all the time?

What if you hurt his feelings?

You just broke down again at these thoughts. Something that made it all worse is that you actively denied these comments and actions to be jokes. Deimos seemed to take it well, but would seem hurt from time to time. You couldn't tell if he was being sad as a sort of joke of his, or if he was genuine. It still hurt to know that.

Fuck. What if he did actually have feelings for you and never confessed because of these comments? What if he felt the same way? You couldn't tell which thought hurt more. The one about him hating you in silence, or loving you in silence.

It hurt. It hurt so much. You just wanted your consciousness to be taken away. You couldn't even dream about any more happy moments with Deimos.

What if you were nicer to him?

What if you actually confessed?

What if you were there for him?

What if you didn't let him split and leave you?

What if you took his place?

What if?

What if?

What if?

What if.

What if.

What if.

What if.

What if.

WHAT IF?!

...

But it doest matter.

Because he's gone.

Gone forever.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

lmao loser.

Still nervous about posting shit onto this hellhole woo.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

____________________________

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut 18+, angry makeout turned soft, gross fluff, bit of angst? 

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst? (i still don’t really know what classifies as angst), confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean

𝐀/𝐧: i literally cannot help falling in love it’s literally a problem. like words of affrimation is my one of my love languages. i’ll try not to include the next angst/smut lmao

_____________________________

(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)

“Wow,” Steve sighed.

Bucky had told him everything; not detailed but what he should know. 

“Is it love?”

“I don’t fucking know, man. And it’s pissing me off,” Bucky sighed dramatically, making Steve chuckle.

“That’s crazy, man. Weird to think about; like you and her…” Steve gestured his hands together then cringed.

“Can you not?” Bucky laughed.

“I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t want to fight anymore but she doesn’t know that and I can’t just say, ‘Hey, when we slept together I realized I don’t fight you anymore because I think like you?’ She’ll kill me!”

“Who’ll kill you,” Nat said, returning with Tony, Clint, and Sam from the Hydra base.

“Nobody,” Bucky mumbled. 

“Ok,” Nat continued walking to the medbay where you, Banner, and Cho were while Sam stayed with the boys.

“How is she doing?” Tony asked.

“Not good,” Banner said, biting his nails.

“What?” Nat gasped.

“She was in an extreme critical condition and no one was here to give her blood. Cho doesn’t share blood type, I’m radioactive, you guys were gone, and Steve and Buck have the serum,” Banner said. 

Tony and Nat looked at each like they had something to say.

“What?” Banner asked.

“You’ll never guess what we recovered at the base,” Tony said, opening a slot in his suit.

He pulled out a tube similar to the shape of a pen that contained familiar blue liquid inside. Banner’s head shot up again looking back and forth between Nat and Tony. 

“Will it work?”

“This could save her life,” Bruce whispered.

ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

You grabbed our basket of laundry and walked back to your room. You turned the TV on and folded your clothes. You were still recovering from the last mission you went on with Bucky; you haven’t  really spoken to him since. You two haven’t even fought since the day you came back. 

Banner and Cho had injected the infamous super soldier serum Hydra refined. Apparently the entire charade of a fundraiser was to present a new type of serum to a shitty ���board of directors’ a part of Hydra. 

And now you were the only human being on earth to have it in your system.

Tony and Bruce were constantly running tests and safety precautions on you for the past three months and you were feeling fine. Better than before; maybe a little taller. 

The effects heightened senses similar to Peter’s radioactivity, enhanced strength like the boys, and intelligence; by that you were able to retain more information and perceive complex data.

This was on top of what powers you already possessed. So now you were basically Tony, Peter, Wanda, and Steve wrapped up in a beautifully dainty bow. 

Natasha has been re-training you alongside Steve, and you were slowly becoming stronger than them surprisingly. Wanda was still way more powerful than you though.

You finished a session with them and they advised you to rest but with the serum you practically didn’t need recovery time; maybe just a hot shower. 

So here you are folding your clothes filling the time.

A light soft knock on your door disrupted you. You walked and opened the door finding none other than Bucky; truthfully the last person you expect.

“Can I come in?” he asked you.

“Uh sure. I’m folding laundry,” you said, stepping to the side to let him in.

“That’s alright.”

“What’s up?” you continued folding your clothes after turning the TV off.

“How are you doing?”

“Alright. Kinda feel better than before,” you smiled softly.

“That’s great.”

There was silence that coated you two. You were getting slightly annoyed as to what was going on with him. He’s been weird since the night you two hate fucked. And you weren’t having his shit anymore.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked bluntly.

“What do you mean?” 

“Why have you been acting this way? Why aren’t we fighting?”

“I thought you didn’t like fighting.”

“I don’t which is why I’ve always hated you and vice versa,” you started to raise your voice in frustration.

“Maybe I don’t want to hate you anymore.”

“Why? Buck, we don’t fucking like each other! Sometimes people don’t get along and that’s us!”

“Fuck, Y/n. You’re so fucking stubborn. Don’t you realize how exhausting it is. We’re always yelling and fighting and throwing shit at each other. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. These past three months we haven’t fought-”

“We haven’t talked in three months!” you yelled. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you flushed against him.

“Godammit, woman.” 

“Fuck you,” you said.

Bucky kissed you and you tried to push him away only making him grab you wrists and push against the wall. You furrowed your brows kissing him back however. He was so addicting and you hated it. The kiss slowly turned soft and sensual; your tongues swirling around each other. 

He pulled away and found you had your eyes still closed. He went in for another kiss but you turned your head away; him not knowing that you didn’t want to give in again. You could hear and feel his heartbeat beating incredibly fast; as was yours.

“Can we start over?” he whispered against your ear, his forehead resting against your head. 

You didn’t respond so he got off you and walked out of your room closing the door behind him. You wished then you would’ve said something. You breathe out not realizing you were holding your breath. 

You went to finish folding your laundry but another knock echoed in the loud silence. And you knew exactly who it was.

You opened the door meeting your eyes with his. 

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiled.

“What are you doing?” you tried not to smile.

“I heard you were moving in today and thought it would be neighborly to drop by and say hi.”

“I’m not playing this charade with you,” you cracked a smile as he stepped closer to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he whispered before grabbing your face and kissing you devotedly. 

You laughed in the kiss and Bucky kicked the door closed with his foot. You wrapped your arms around his neck basking in the kiss. He pushed your basket of clothes to the floor, neither of you really caring too much if it landed alright. 

You’ll make him redo it if not.

His hands brushed against your hot skin under your shirt after he laid you gently on your back. Not long after he whined, a way of begging you to take your shirt off. He tugged at it and you sat up finally letting him take it off. 

His hands cupped your breasts while trailing kisses down your jaw and neck. He moved down your body and down the bed, standing up to strip himself of clothes. He did the same to you after he was bare. He settled between you and just watched your face. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he tucked a strand of hair behind  your ear.

“God, our fights killed me every fucking day. You’re so sexy when you’re mad,” he joked.

“Shut up,” you laughed turning your head away.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked seriously and gently.

“Yeah, I don’t want to fight anymore either,” you cupped his face. 

“Ok,” he kissed you. He gently flipped you onto your stomach.

“Bedside?” he asked referring to condoms.

You nodded biting your lip, bringing your knees under your hips pushing your ass up for him. 

Bucky wrapped his dick and pumped it a few times, rubbing your back softly with his other hand. He looked at your glistening pussy smiling knowing how wet you’d gotten because of him. He lined himself with your entrance and pushed himself in. 

He stopped when he felt your body ever so slightly tensed up. You breathed heavily but urged him to continue. He moved in and out of you moaning. His hands rubbed up and down your back and your body trembled under him. 

He leaned down and pressed kisses on your back slowing down a bit. You wiggled your hips wanting more and Bucky moved his hand up the front of your body. He pulled you up so you were pressed against his chest kissing your shoulder. 

He moved widely fast in and out of you chasing his high. You were shaking against him, feeling your oragsm approaching insanely quick. You threw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. One of his hands played with your breast while the other reached down and rubbed your clit. 

When he did, your body jerked and you moaned louder making Bucky smile. He moved faster and seconds later you both tumbled over the edge. Bucky moaned your name and bit you shoulder trying to suffice his moan. You didn’t give a shit though.

Your eyes rolled back and your hand wrapped around to grab Bucky’s face while the other around his hip, pulling and scratching him pleasurably. You moan, not you practically scream at how intense your oragsm hit you. 

He fell forward softly trying not to crush you  and kissed along your shoulder blades. You panted heavily under him, desperate to catch your breath. You laughed a bit after making him laugh too.

“That was … holy shit, wow,” you gasped.

“Good,” he smiled at you.

“What on earth do we say to others?” you rolled under him so you laid on your back.

“Eh, let ‘em figure it out,” he buried his face in your neck making you laugh. 

You two went another round or two... or seven, until you guys finally rested and slept for the night. Suspiciously no one came looking for either of you.

The next morning you woke up in Bucky’s arms feeling strikingly sore. You never got sore. But considering you and Bucky are both enhanced and went on for hours last night, it doesn’t actually surprise you too much that that’s what it took to get you sore for the first since you've been enhanced with the serum.

You rolled over seeing Bucky still asleep. You were so confused. 

Bucky stirred before opening his eyes meeting yours and smiled pulling you close again. He closed his eyes again and traced little patterns in your skin. 

“What going on in that pretty head of yours, baby girl,” he asked.

“We hate each other,” you whispered.

“We don’t have to,” He opened his eyes again.

“This is a very slippery slope we’re approaching.”

“I know, but I want it. Do you?”

“Yeah,” tears formed in your eyes.

“What if this doesn’t work out though? We’ll hate each other even more,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I could ever hate you again. I don’t think I ever really did. Disliked, yeah. But not hate.”

“I’m sorry i treated you like dog shit,” you sniffled making Bucky laughed.

“I’m sorry too.”

“Bucky?”

“Y/n?”

“I hate you,” a tear fell slowly down your cheek. 

“I hate you too," he chuckled, kissing your temple before closing his eyes again.

TAGLIST FOR SERIES:

@hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles  @sweetlikesugar9 @thefifthweasley @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @perfectlymaximumphilosopher @kenopsiababe @montypythonsholysnail @smoochesfroggos @emmabarnes @furiouscopshepherduniversity  @ddowii  @mrsdancing

[presumenothing]

first: do no harm

(AO3)

Dr. Mensah’s attention zeroed in on me like a well-tuned surgery bot arm. “You have medical training.”

I was going to deny the hell out of that. I really was.

And then I said: “Not recently,” instead of no or even more accurately I frankly don’t think the company’s education modules count as training by your standards. (As far as I was concerned, the only thing worse than those modules was the one on breaking bad news, but what did I know. Maybe humans actually felt comforted by those tactics they described.) (No, I didn’t think that was likely, either.)

Which reminded me of a necessary addition. “The company won’t cover liabilities related to any non-security tasks you assign me to, if that’s what you’re intending.”

Mensah made a sound that was both grim and viciously annoyed at once, which I immediately saved for further analysis and replication. “Then we’ll just have to not make any mistakes, won’t we?”

–

I hadn’t exactly been thrilled with getting assigned to this mission. Not that mining installations were much of a walk in the park, but this was just asking to turn up memories that were better off buried (preferably forever) in my organic parts.

I don’t usually pay attention to mission briefs, as you may have noticed, and I wouldn’t have this time either except that my half-assed scan turned up the fact that the team weren’t science-doctors on a survey like I’d initially assumed, but medical-doctors. On a medical mission.

Of course they were.

(I wanted to say that someone had allocated me to this on purpose, but realistically speaking the company didn’t give enough of a shit, and the universe disliked me enough that this could totally be pure chance.)

Considering all that, the mission so far had been… much less worse than it could’ve been. Though the bar for that was admittedly very, very low. Possibly somewhere in the negatives.

Anyway. Up until the whole thing with Bharadwaj and Volescu getting almost-but-not-eaten, the task of making sure no one died had mostly been the clients’ job for once, which was a nice change since they were actually competent at it.

I still didn’t care enough to read their background info, but it was pretty clear just from observing that these doctors had experience with working in less-than-great conditions, even if Ratthi did sometimes sigh wistfully about equipment they couldn’t have in field hospitals. It meant that my job had pretty much amounted to patrolling, lurking visibly around the supplies storage in case anyone got ideas about that, and helping to fetch various medical items when I happened to be there and it wasn’t Gurathin asking.

It wasn’t terrible. I’d even got some media-watching time in.

(There might have been the vague thought that things could’ve gone much better if I’d been deployed with a team like this instead of Corporation Rim fuckery that literally bled payment from patients, but part of the reason medical-use constructs had been developed in the first place was so that hospitals could draw up forty-hour shifts and other assorted fun without worrying about doctor and surgeon unions, which told you everything you needed to know about our existence.

Also, the thought was inherently depressing and I already had enough of that in my head, thank you very much.)

The contract was more than halfway through. All I had needed to do to avoid awkward questions was continue making sure no one noticed that I was weirdly well-versed in all this, which wasn’t difficult since they only seemed to have theoretical knowledge about SecUnits at best.

Then the fauna happened, and poof went my cover.

Now all of PresAux knew I was – whatever the hell you called a catastrophically failed MedUnit who got turned loose onto security, because at least if I screwed up here the press wouldn’t be as bad. And that wasn’t even getting into the hacked governor module.

Even constructs didn’t have a term for all that.

–

Of course, none of that stopped this from being a Very Bad Idea. Even if apparently no one except Gurathin (ugh) seemed to agree.

“I’m a SecUnit, Dr. Mensah. I scare people. Patients are harder to assess when they’re running away.” I thought basic logistics might work here.

“You had better bedside manner with Bharadwaj and Volescu than many doctors I’ve seen. Human ones, might I add, and not actively injured themselves at the time.” Mensah’s tone was brisk as her pace – which wasn’t difficult to keep up with either, given my vertical advantage, but impressive nonetheless. “And no one wants to be around Pin-Lee when she’s holding a scalpel. That’s what the sedation is for.”

It’s because SecUnit hasn’t seen her in court yet. Trust me, it’s much scarier, Ratthi chimed in over the feed, with the text signifier for “amusement” but not “joke”.

Pin-Lee just smiled.

It was terrifying. I wasn’t even looking directly at her.

“I don’t have a valid license.” That’d been a part of the legal fallout from the disaster on RaviHyral, though no one had actually bothered with adding malpractice charges or barring me from ever doing medicine again. (Just another side effect of being considered as equipment – I doubted the company would’ve even secured licenses for constructs if not for their paranoia about covering their asses on all fronts.)

But it was a last resort argument, and I knew it.

Mensah knew it, too. “There’s special dispensations for that, especially under the current circumstances, as long as a fully-licensed doctor is in the vicinity at all times. It’s not like any of us can actually get out of each other’s hair in this base anyway.”

Mensah had stopped in a less-chaotic corner and turned to me, not that she could see anything behind the faceplate. I fixed my gaze a generous distance to the left and let my drones do the looking.

“I’m not going to make you agree. You perform a valuable function as our security – far more than I had initially expected, to be honest, and we would all be grateful if you kept doing that. But with Bharadwaj down for the count and Volescu still recovering, we could do with the help.” Her expression was still steady as ever, even though she probably knew better than I did the risks of continuing to operate shorthanded like this. “It’s your decision, SecUnit.”

Right, just the very thing I didn’t need to hear.

I kept most of my sigh internal. “Triage and first-aid only, between patrols. No procedures, and I won’t be responsible if any patients freak out.”

Mensah nodded. “Of course. Gurathin’s on receiving duty today, how about you work out a roster with him?”

I knew it. This was a bad idea.

–––––

You’d be my guardian.

Yes. The education opportunities – most of us were trained on Preservation, if you’re interested in learning and getting your license properly this time. Or not. You can do anything you want.

–––––

ART barged its way into my feed. You’re exhibiting a mildly elevated temperature and respiration rate. Though it could of course merely be a sign of inferior processors rather than emotional distress.

Do you talk to your clients like that?

Do you? ART retorted right back, but obligingly brought up the documentation for its MedSystem before I finished the query for it.

I ignored ART’s attention (with some difficulty) as I flicked quickly through the top few files, taking in the glaring disparities from my existing data. The notable lack of suggesting costly procedures that no-one actually needed, for starters. I’m assuming some of these are your improvements on standard procedure?

I am the cutting edge of medical research, ART proclaimed. You couldn’t accuse it of humility if you tried.

I still wasn’t sure what I wanted, and I still didn’t want anyone to decide it for me. But moving towards the one thing I did want (at least in the short term) had ended up with me running into what was very possibly the most advanced and opinionated diagnosis-treatment AI currently in existence, because that was just the kind of luck I had.

I didn’t have a medium-duty surgical suite in my arms anymore, since that was the entire point of modular Unit construction, but neither did Mensah.

And I didn’t think I wanted to stop doing security, anyway, since it turned out I might not be completely terrible at it; having actual medical knowledge that was MedSystem-malfunction-proof couldn’t hurt.

Plus, overwriting those shitty education modules seemed like a pretty great fuck-you to the company. I was always interested in that.

I tagged some of the more emergency-related files, then added a bunch of the weirder injuries I’d seen on contracts, and prodded ART. Tell me about these?

[pigeonfancier]

Occasionally my mother actually manages to get a bee in my bonnet, and I'm never entirely sure if I'm more annoyed at her for being crazy, or if I'm more annoyed at myself for perseverating over this. So a bit of public hissing to get this out of my system, cw she's an abusive ass:

So, tldr on irl bullshit lately!

My brother has been being a disaster - my parents let him live in our childhood house for the past 4-5 years, because they'd moved out back in 2015 or so, and they just sold the house. Once they'd sold it, they found out that my brother has no savings, had not bothered to find a new place, had flown a roommate in from across the country, and expected to move back into my parents basement with this random man.

My brother is, like, almost his mid fucking thirties at this point, for the recooooord.

So, my mother has been obsessing over the fact literally no one except him approved of the "moving-back-in" plan, and she's been furious over how no one has been sympathetic. Because it's just another sign of how he's just hated and slighted by everyone in the family, boo hoo, we are all monsters, etc, etc. Keep in mind: my sister and I have paid his rent before when he was in apartments, my dad only was charging him $300 or so monthly to rent this entire damn house, and on top of both those things, he returned that favour by absolutely fucking over the house through refusing to do any maintenance. My brother has been coddled in basically every way you can be.

Separate from that, I have been having cardiac issues all month, give or take. I've had issues with my heart since I was born, have always had chest pains, went to the cardiologist yearly as a child, so I've been collecting data on my blood pressure and BPM to drag into the office in a month or so. Because without data on everything, it is easier to dismiss me than it is to figure out what's fucking up now - this has been a huge, reoccurring problem for me for most of my life!

As a result, my sister, my father and my friends have all been very fussy about how I should avoid stress right now, stay calm and sit still. Because when you're pingponging between 90bpm to fucking 160bpm while literally just typing on a computer in your air conditioned home, and you have a strong family history of strokes.. no one wants you exerting yourself. For some reason! Irritating, but fair and reasonable. Reason why I’ve gotten off my ass and started properly gardening this year: it’s light exercise that doesn’t spike my bpm, doesn’t fucking wreck me, and has enough productivity to it that it doesn’t make me feel like it’s a waste of time.

No one except for my mother has been terribly interested in helping my brother out! So my mother has been helping my brother find a place and move instead, with my father paying for shit and providing physical labour. My sister is busy! I am busy, and the general consensus from everyone is that I should just hold the fuck still. Do light exercise, keep an eye on my heart rate, try to figure out what’ll bring it down and identify if there’s any triggers to it spiking up.

So, a few days ago, she heard my father and I discussing my heart rate! Specifically, the fact I fucked up my fat ratios on a meal the prior night, and I'd spent most of the day vomiting as a result, so he was expressing sympathy over my dealing with that AND the cardiac issues, and discussing how his heart had been a piece of shit in his twenties, when he decided to replace sleep and food with coffee and energy drinks while training for a fight. Turns out: that was a terrible idea!

My mother, upon hearing us talking, asked me if I'd help her out with getting rid of some of my brothers shit, by taking it and her to Goodwill. I said yeah, sure. Why not? My default inclination to people requesting help has always been to say yes, and the way I figured it was - I'm not moving anything, it's not a far drive, it's whatever, yeah?

It should have been whatever! But instead, once we are in the car and driving, she decided to start trying to scream at me about how my cardiac issues - which I have had since childhood, mind you! - are just from me getting ANXIOUS, and my father and I just like MAKING THINGS UP, and we need to GET OVER IT, etc etc. If I actually had any issues, I would have gone to the doctor immediately, but instead, I was either an IDIOT or else I was just COMPLAINING, and it's NOT A BIG DEAL, etc, etc, this entire laundry list of absolutely bizarre bullshit.

And not screaming, as in "spoke loudly", screaming as in "is she having a fucking psychotic break”, because I can’t say that I’ve ever expected the response to my heart fucking up would be someone screaming at me over it. Someone who does not pay my medical bills, mind, and who heard this all from eavesdropping.

So obviously, the trip did not happen. I did not take her to Goodwill, and I have not spoken to her since!

Because, first off: I have heart issues, because it's her shitty bloodline that has 16 year olds with fucking pacemakers and everyone having strokes. This is a genetic issue, which was exacerbated by medication I was given as an infant, and which I've been getting on and off medical care for since I was a fucking infant. They had the extensive medical bills to fucking prove it.

Second off: what the actual fuck?

This has been a few days now. There's been no apology, or acknowledgement of this batshittery, because, as she's said before point blank - she doesn't need to ever apologise to my father, sister or I, because you don't apologize to family. (She got bit over that, but apparently, still holds to it.) Instead, her solution has been to try and buy me shit!

This is batshit for many reasons, but one is: I do not like gifts. I petition every year for everyone to Just Not Do Christmas. I do not like birthday gifts. I do not like even getting cards. I accept them if they're given, for the most part, but if you spend more than $5 and you aren't my sister, I do not want it. If you’re giving me something period, you’re not my sister, and you have not explicitly asked my permission prior, I do not want it. This has been a thing forever.

The other reason it's batshit: she found my brother an apartment, but she thinks it's too expensive for him, so she's just planning on paying part of his bills every month. So, even if I was materialistic enough to be down with an item over an apology, for her screaming at me for my health issue taking attention away from her son.. I’d probably be materialistic enough that it would fall pretty fucking flat flat to get a $200 dollar item when she's talking about how she's going to have to budget to drop $100 or more every month on my older brother.

Crazy shit! She's always an asshole and you always have to keep that in mind when dealing with her. But this is way, way more overt crazy than I've had to deal with since I fucking turned 18 or so, and I'm just.. as baffled as I am irritated over all of this, because man. Man! She has a TBI that impacts her behavior, but there's really no excuse behind "isolate someone to scream at them while they’re experiencing severe trachycardia", ever, beyond being an abusive chucklefuck. And then trying to buy me shit to win back my tolerance afterwards is just..

Girl, you've been around me for 29 years and you still don't know I hate gifts, after at least 15 years of my saying, at least twice a year, every year, that I hate gifts? You spent the first ten years I was alive having to take me into a cardiologist every year for the EKG[?] weird jelly heart scan shit, and you’re going to scream that I don’t have any problems with my heart?

Literally anything to make my brother more of a victim, I fucking guess. I’m always so thrown and baffled over this shit, because.. I don’t know! It’s unflattering and inefficient and I can’t even imagine what results that she’s trying to get from the vast, vast, vast majority of her behaviour at this point, because it just doesn’t make common fucking sense. Which might be the whole TBI thing, but jesus fucking chriiist.

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

shoni for 97, 100

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

Time Travel  & Accidentally Saving the Day   

i hated writing this and it took forever and then i accidentally loved it. o fuck this happened w/ the soulmate au too, i need to stop coming up with genius plots i'm too smart

Toni didn’t like working for Klein Life Lines.

Everything from the cheesy rhyming name, the Margarita Mondays #girlboss work culture, to the absolutely suffocating way Gretchen Klein’s eyes followed her wherever she went, made every day a living hell to get through.

But. It paid like gangbusters, and her coworkers were perhaps the best people she’d ever met. From Fatin always keeping vodka in her water bottle, to Nora always having the perfect joke, to Rachel constantly arguing with Toni about who was gonna foot the lunch bill, to the way Leah always seemed to be picking up on every little thing around her. She guessed Toni’s birthday, just from context clues of Toni being a little hungover one morning. Like fucking Sherlock Holmes.

They were amazing and she loved them. But they only made working there bearable. Being Gretchen Klein’s personal fucking assistant sucked fucking ass. Even if all she had to do was move things around on google calendar she was still home by midnight most nights. She wished, often, that she was like Rachel, Nora, Fatin, and Leah. They all got to work on a big research project together while Toni told Gretchen’s son that he was gonna have to switch schools again.

Well, Leah technically worked in HR but she did so much in that big fucking mystery room she was probably helping out. Apparently “going to college” was a requirement for being a scientist. If Toni’d known that she would’ve been born rich. Her bad.

So work was bad, until the evening Gretchen’s son had some sort of emergency and she ran out early, only ordering for Toni to finish all the work she had to do. Except Toni didn’t have any work to do without Gretchen, but if she left early she’d be crucified.

So she dicked around at her desk until she wandered her way into the big mystery doors where the rest of her friends had locked themselves away.

“Hey guys,” Toni poked her head in, “Gretchen peeled out early for once, mind if I annoy you guys in here?”

“Come the fuck in,” Fatin waved her over, luckily none of them were forced to wear dumb lab coats as they plugged away at their computers. In the front of the room was a large processor, it’s fan working overtime. “Gretchen the Wretched finally fucked off?”

“Something with her son,” Toni shrugged and plopped next to Fatin. “What is that?”

“Data analysis,” Rachel answered. She showed Toni her computer, the numbers flashing too quickly for Toni to read them.

“What’s it for?”

“No idea,” Leah said. “Which isn’t giving me bad vibes at all. We’re just working on some mystery project for a self-described ‘Napoleon with a cunt.’”

“Relax,” Rachel said. “We already know it’s not for world domination. Fatin ran the diagnostics.”

Fatin made eye contact with Toni and quickly shook her head.

“So, you have no idea what it’s for?” Toni asked.

“None,” Nora said.

“But there’s a big red button we are absolutely not allowed to press,” Fatin said. She nodded at a big red button on the processor.

Toni looked at it. “I’m gonna press it.”

Everyone stopped typing and looked at her.

“Absolutely not,” Rachel said.

“Do it,” Leah said.

“Toni, absolutely maybe don’t press it,” Fatin said.

“Exactly,” Nora agreed.

“I’m gonna do it.” Toni walked over to the processor and they all watched her as her hand hovered over the large button.

“Don’t do it,” Rachel said, but didn’t make a move to stop her.

Toni loved being told what to do, so obediently she walked back over to them and they all had a good laugh.

Yeah, as if.

She pressed the button and instead of the machine shutting off, or the lights flickering, or something external, all she felt was a sudden sucking in her gut as the world went dark.

She was surrounded by water, gasping for breath as she swam, not even sure which direction to go in. Water got in her lungs and an arm swung around her waist. She grasped at it desperately, struggling as her feet kicked until she broke the water line, coughing and spluttering as someone dragged her towards a shore.

They landed on a beach and Toni continued to gasp, wondering if she'd throw up from vertigo.

“What in the world were you thinking?” A woman asked, and luckily, she didn’t sound like Gretchen, her voice too southern.

Toni coughed, her knees bending in the sand. The water was fresh though, maybe a lake?

“Who even are you?” The woman continued. “You just appeared. Out of nowhere! Are you—are you an angel?” Toni rolled over in the sand, eyes catching sight of a sky, light blue in the early morning. Which made no sense, because it was nearly eight o’clock.

“What?” Toni managed.

“You’ve got to be,” The woman said. “Or a spirit sent by the devil. Which is it?”

Toni looked over at her and holy fuck this woman was beautiful, blonde and her face was sculpted, even her hair wet shone in the sun as she looked down at Toni. Toni wanted to ask if she was the angel.

She was also dressed for the renaissance fair.

“What?”

“It’s the only way you could’ve known I was gonna jump. Why else would you have saved me?” The woman asked.

“I—what?”

“When you appeared,” the woman said. “You just appeared and I jumped in after you, instead of—well instead of jumping in to—” the woman cut off abruptly and Toni put a hand over her eyes to calm her incoming migraine.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked.

“Toni,” Toni said.

“Not very angelic,” the woman said. “Not very demonic either.”

“I’m not—what—”

“My name’s Shelby,” the woman offered. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You—you saved me,” Toni said but she shook her head. “Whatever. I guess. Where are we?”

“Not far from the mountains,” Shelby said. “My family will be there by now.”

“The mountains?” Toni asked. “What fucking mountains?”

Shelby nodded her head at something beyond them and Toni sat up a little and gaped. She’d only seen the Rocky Mountains a few times but they’d be hard to fucking forget. They stood before her like a total damnation of god and science, for one moment she had her back to them in Minnesota and now they’d crept up on her, Shelby dragging her ever closer.

She looked back at Shelby’s cosplay and a bad feeling starting creeping up her throat.

“What—what’s the year?”

Shelby gave her an odd look. “May of 1837,” Shelby said. “Do you think you’ve hit your head?”

The migraine returned and Toni fell back on the sand.

Yeah, Gretchen was definitely planning world domination.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, mentions of torture and murdered children. 

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Well, now, I seem to have gone a little overboard here, because this chapter is 6550 words! I’m sick with the flu and isolated and bored, and all I do is sleep, so I have no idea how this happened. The chapter is a bit heavy, lot’s of information to get across for future developments, but we meet some new characters that will be recurring! Also - next chapter is going to be the big 100K one, so please send me a word or phrase you’d like me to incorporate in it, I like a challenge! All my love to you, darlings!

Chapter 36

  The next morning, Marcus woke you up in an unconventional way. Normally, he’d just kiss you somewhere, or throw one or two limbs over you and pin you down so that he could try and pretend that he didn’t have to get up from the warm bed, and your soft skin.   While he didn’t have a bad morning mood, like you, he was lazy and languid and almost excessively soft the first half-hour of the day.   But on this day, he woke you by quite literally jumping on you.   You were lying on your side, with your back to him, and somewhere in the sluggishness of still-asleep-but-not-fully, you heard his phone beep. Since it wasn’t your alarm, your sleep-drunk brain ignored it, but you were aware of him turning to retrieve it from the floor next to his side of the bed. It was just a double mattress on the floor, but it was good enough to hold you over.   But then, he was suddenly bouncing into the air with a loud whoop coming from his lips, before he landed on top of you and started attacking you with wet kisses, tickling you with his patchy beard and giggling happily while he kept bouncing.

  “What’re you doin…?”

  You were groaning the words out in a garbled mumble against the pillow, but he ignored you. He kissed your nose, then bounced, then his moustache tickled your neck, and he bounced again, then he tugged the covers down and kissed your shoulder, bounce, his beard rubbed the top of your right breast, bounce, his lips smacked against yours, bounce…   He was being deliberately annoying in order to get you angry, because he knew that that was the fastest way to get you fully awake. But even though you knew that, it still really got on your nerves.

  “Fuck-off, Marcus…”

  He just giggled more, knowing he was starting to get to you. And then he stood on all fours over you, and just bounced like a gazelle, repeatedly, endlessly, while he kept chuckling like a giddy kid, until you had enough.   With a loud growl, you flung your eyes open and rushed at him, pushing him backwards until he fell over onto his back at the foot of the bed, still smirking and vibrating with light laughter even after you pinned him down and glared at him.

  “What the hell is so damned funny ahead of the fucking alarm clock?”

  “Ooh, I love it when you get all rough first thing in the morning.”

  You were technically straddling him, although there was no real contact between your sexes, and you were too tired and angry with him to feel the least bit horny.   That is, until he lunged his hips up and his hard morning glory bumped right at your opening. It was just enough of a reaction to cause you to lose focus, and he took the opportunity to use his superior strength to swap your positions, except he didn’t hover over you anymore. He nestled himself in between your thighs, grinding hard into your mound, knowing you needed a bit more force to coax your body into playing, while your brain was practically still asleep.

  “We got it, querida.”

  He smiled into the sweet kisses he peppered onto your neck while you tried not to let him persuade your body into morning sex. You weren’t in the mood, not really, and this was gonna be a hell of a day, even if everything went smoothly.   His voice dropped to that silky husk that you loved, as he whispered in your ear.

  “We got the house.”

  …What……?

  You flinched and stared at his eyes as he brought his face up to where you could see it. He was serious.   Suddenly you weren’t the least bit tired.

  “We got it? It’s ours? Don’t you dare joke with me right now, Marcus…”

  You already knew he wasn’t, but you needed him to confirm it. The whole house-hunt had been such a mess, and you’d fallen so madly in love with that place, with the big yard and the perfect kitchen, that when you thought you’d lost it, the whole hunt had sort of become irrelevant to you.

  “They backed out, at the last minute. The realtor just texted me to congratulate us. It’s ours, mi amor. We can move in next week.”

  His smile widened as he watched you absorb the news, and saw the joy spread through your features. Your body started responding to his, and he felt the heat rise in your skin, so he rolled you both again, to let you be the one to bounce this time.

  That led to the two of you somehow not getting out of bed until an hour after the alarm did go off, subsequently ruining your entire morning, but amazingly, not your good mood.   Your press-conference had been scheduled for noon, and you had some things to get done before then, but none of it bothered you all of a sudden.   All those things that would have normally stressed you out just passed by without so much as raising your pulse, and you had the singular pleasure of seriously wigging out Anita when you crossed paths with her in a hallway, on your way to legal.

  “Hey, Máma. What’s happening?”

  “Why would anything be happening?”

  “Um, because you’re here. You’re only here when something interesting is going on. So, spill.”

  “Fine. I’m interviewing candidates for your replacement today.”

  “Oooh… that means weird questions centred around flowers, right? Can I sit in?”

  “Absolutely not, loco.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t like having you around when I’m working, especially not when you’re… giddy…”

  “It doesn’t come around often, you know, you might wanna capitalize.”

  “And what exactly do you think I might need your good mood to get you to agree to?”

  “How about… a garden in our backyard? So, your magic flowers can keep tabs on us.”

  “I don’t need a garden to keep tabs on you, loco.”

  “But you do need flowers nearby, because of the pollen, right? That’s how it works, isn’t it?”

  Uuuhh… and just where did that come from?

  Anita stared at you with the most complex expression you’d ever seen, and at any other time, you would’ve been seriously disturbed by it, but this time, you just beamed a huge grin at her, and patted her shoulder affectionately as you passed her by.

  “I won’t tell. Promise!”

  Then you skipped away down the hall, happy as a cloud, having apparently worked out how at least one of Máma’s abilities worked, without even knowing it.

  After the meeting with legal, to officially sign on for all the duties and responsibilities of a Heroic, you headed down to the Batcave to put on your costume. Velma had tinkered a little bit with the detailing, but overall, it looked the same as before. You allowed her to style your hair into your preferred ‘up and away from your eyes’ manner, and do your modest and simple make-up, which she still managed to get twice as nice as anything you could do.   And then you were ready. With an hour to spare, no less.

  “How you doin with that sparkle, honey? Got a handle on it yet?”

  Right, you’d already forgotten about that.

  “Nope, I haven’t tried it again yet. But I have some time to spare.”

  “Ooh, yes, gimme more glitter, baby!”

  “Wait, don’t tell me you saved that stuff?”

  “See now, darling, that offends me. Do I look like the sort of person who would ever waste glitter?”

  “My apologies, my Queen, how utterly rude of me. Allow me to attempt to create some more for you.”

  Velma just nodded appreciatively and stepped back a little.

  You started picturing the same colourful images that had flooded your mind the day before, and tried to flood the air around you with them using your energy. But it was like it wasn’t there.   Whatever it was that had put you in such a splendidly good mood that morning, you were suddenly certain that it had something to do with the sudden emptiness inside you. As though the happiness had been some side-effect of your body no longer having to deal with that constant drain on your energy-reserves.   That strange feeling that lived in your chest and your gut, and that you had just started to become comfortable with, and used to, as it triggered and activated your powers, just wasn’t there anymore.   The giddiness vanished, replaced with a growing anxiety as you began to realise the potential consequences of this.   It might be temporary, or it might be permanent. Your powers weren’t natural, and thus, they couldn’t be judged by the same data as the other’s. But if it was a permanent loss, the contract you’d just signed would put you in a precarious situation, not to mention the fucking press-conference.   How the hell were you supposed to stand there and proclaim yourself a Heroic with no powers?

  “Sugar? What’s wrong?”

  “I… I can’t. My powers aren’t working.”

  “Oh, no. That doesn’t sound good. Go to research, honey, they’ll take care of you.”

  “No, I can’t. We don’t know who to trust, remember?”

  “Oh, dang it all to hell. Well, go find Marcus, then.”

  You sprinted out of the cave and went to find him, not even seeing the eyes popping on the people you passed in the corridors and stairwells, as they took in your outfit.   He wasn’t in his office, so you headed for the Control centre, and forced yourself to stop and calm down before you stepped inside.   He was there, by the centre console with his broad back to you, overseeing some transfer of equipment from overseas, and there was a kind of chatter in the room, as the operators and analysts kept feeding him information, and mumbling to and between themselves.   But, as you entered, all eyes fell on you, and everyone went quiet.   Marcus noticed the change and turned around to investigate. You watched his eyes go from seeing the people all staring in the same direction, to seeing you standing there in your outfit, and for a moment, that same predatory darkness filled his eyes. He was acutely aware of how everyone was staring at you, and while it made him proud to see others appreciate the beauty he so clearly saw in you, it also made him possessive. A need to declare to the whole world that you belonged to him flooded his system and made his adrenaline spike, and you could see it in his whole frame.   But it only lasted for a second, because then he saw your eyes, and realised that something was wrong, and his fear took over.   He handed the room over to one of the operators, and led you out, and he didn’t stop until you’d reached his office. He placed the little device that scrambled all forms of listening or recording of the room, on the desk, and turned it on before he spoke.

  “What is it?”

  “They’re gone… my powers, I can’t even feel them.”

  “What… how is that even possible?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me. Do you know if this has ever happened to any of the supers?”

  “No, it hasn’t. We all experience fluctuations, especially while we’re young, but I’ve never heard of anyone actually losing their powers. Are you sure they’re gone? Not just… on the fritz?”

  “They’re gone. I know that feeling so well, because it scared me for so long, and now it just isn’t there anymore. I can’t be a Heroic now. Which, technically doesn’t bother me, you know I never wanted to be, but we needed this.”

  “Okay, slow down, we don’t know if this is permanent yet.”

  “Marcus, the announcement is in half an hour! You expect me to stand there and proclaim myself a Heroic, when all I can do now is throw basic self-defence at any enemy?”

  He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “No, you can’t do that. We can’t let anyone see that you’ve been weakened. We have to call the conference off.”

  “Fuck. Allen is gonna have my head…”

  “He’ll have to go through me.”

  “I feel like such a hypocrite even wearing this thing now.”

  You tugged poignantly at the top of your costume, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable in it than you had the first time you put it on. He grabbed your chin and lifted it to keep your eyes on his, so that you could see that he was dead serious.

  “Hey, don’t say that. Whatever else has happened, few people have earned a Hero’s costume more than you, and I don’t ever wanna see you wear it with anything but pride, you hear me, hermosa?”

  Your eyes teared up for some reason, and it sparked a torrent of emotions to flood your system. Suddenly you were shaking with fear, sadness and a growing feeling of vulnerability.

  “I know it’s irrational, I know I’m not any more fragile just because I can’t tear buildings apart anymore, but I just feel so breakable now.”

  He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, knowing that no words of comfort would be enough right now.   You tried to calm yourself, knowing that there was too much for you to get through in the immediate future to allow you the luxury of breaking down just yet.

  “We need to talk to Allen and Ms. Granada, before it’s too late to call it off.”

  “We also need to get you checked out, but by who?”

  “Fuck if I know. One problem at a time, please.”

  “Oh, shit! Norway…”

  “You got the green light?”

  “Yeah. For you and me, at 4 pm.”

  “Great, this just gets better and better. Now all we need is for our fucking house to burn down, too.”

  “Whoa, don’t jinx it!”

  “Honey, if that happened – we would have to finally accept that the universe has chosen us to bear a large percentage of all the crap in this world, so that someone else doesn’t have to. And then we can just give up on all dreams and ambitions and go live in an igloo in Antarctica.”

  “I have no idea how to respond to that, except - penguins.”

  “Wait… I think I have an idea about how we can steer past the press-conference.”

  “If you’re about to tell me it has something to do with flightless birds…”

  “What? No, of course not. We need to talk to Allen.”

  An hour later, you and Marcus where on the Heroics jet, heading for Norway, and Marcus was genuinely impressed with how easy your solution had ended up being. Granted, it only bought you a little bit of time, but perhaps that would be enough.   Basically, you’d just convinced Allen that your business in Norway had become urgent, and that you needed to go immediately, or lives might be in danger. It worked because it was technically true, which made it just real enough to persuade him.   Whatever shitstorm you’d be facing when you got back, was another matter entirely, and one you’d both chosen to ignore for now.

  “So, provided my intel is accurate, and we have to assume it is, we should start looking in a small community called Ersfjordbotn, just south of Tromso.”

  “What led you there?”

  “A twitter-post. Don’t ask.”

  “Okay.”

  “You told me that her power is discreet, and that that’s how she’s been so good at staying off the radar, but you never told me what it is?”

  “She can fiddle with temperatures, only in her immediate surroundings, and only a few degrees, but around people that’s all it takes to put you out.”

  “Neat. When did you last see her?”

  “Oh, god… probably around ten years ago now. She was really young and really scared of everything to do with Heroics and responsibilities and the spotlight, most of all. But her family was poor and her parents only saw the advantages of having their daughter become a famous person, so they ignored her protests, and as a result, she ended up running away.”

  “And they sent you to find her?”

  “Mhm. I caught up to her in Canada, but she was so desperate to be free, to not have to shoulder the burden of caring for her family, as well as the whole damned world, at a mere 16 years old, that I just couldn’t bring myself to take her back. I gave her all the cash I had on me, and the names of some people I knew would help her if she could find them. And that’s the last I ever saw of her.”

  “Poor kid. I’m sorry you have to do this, honey.”

  “I hope we can find her, because I’d love to know that she made it. That I didn’t send her to her death that day. But, if we do find her, we’re not gonna force her to do anything, which is why I’m fine with all this.”

  “Did you get the new location on Verity yet?”

  “Yeah. Mississippi this time.”

  “So, if Neune wants in, that’s our next stop.”

  “Let’s just find her first.”

  Airport, rental, getting lost twice, and swooning over absolutely every piece of scenery you drove past, later – you found Ersfjordbotn.   Your costumes were enough to draw all attention to you, so if Neune was there, she was bound to hear about it soon enough. So, you just parked the car and headed into a coffeeshop for an evening snack while you waited.   The shop closed about an hour later, but the midnight sun meant that you had full daylight all through the night, which was odd, but really amazing. The scenery was so dramatic with the steep mountains and hills dropping almost straight down into the fjord. The community was small and all the buildings ran along the waterline at the base of a mountain, and as you walked, you started thinking about the house that waited for you back home.

  “About the move.”

  “Hm?”

  “Honey, we’re gonna have to go on a serious shopping-spree as soon as possible. As if we have time for that, in the middle of all this… And you know what furniture stores are like. It takes five weeks to get anything delivered, and if you want something special or customised, it’s twice that.”

  “Don’t worry, in that regard, being famous has it’s perks. No store wants the bad press involved with disappointing a Heroic.”

  “It’s still gonna take time. Moves always do. I mean, for christs sake, we don’t even have cutlery.”

  “What happened to your cutlery? Someone eat it?”

  You stopped at the sound of a melodious voice to your right, and turned to find a woman sitting perched up on a rock a few metres up the hillside.   Her clothes were so perfectly toned to the colours around her, that if she hadn’t spoken, you’d have never seen her, even if you’d looked straight at her.   You felt Marcus relax next to you.

  “Hi, Neune. I’m happy to see you again, you look good.”

  She stood up and made her way down to you, moving with ease over the lose rocks and patches of unruly grass. She was a few inches taller than you, and heavyset. Strong, there was no doubt about that, and curvy to boot, but her warm dark skin was probably the most beautiful thing about her.   She looked like the kind of woman that wouldn’t hesitate to beat you senseless if you deserved it, but would also love you unconditionally if she decided that you were a good enough person.

  “So do you, Moreno. I was sorry to hear about your wife. But I’m glad to see you seem to have found your way.”

  “Thank you. Yes, this is my fiancé. Hermosa, this is Deema Neune.”

  You held out your hand and she took it. Her grip was firm and cool, but when her skin touched yours, she seemed to react to something, and kept holding onto your hand while she looked closer at you.

  “You’ve been damaged. Badly.”

  You were suddenly nervous. The intensity of her eyes was piercing.

  “Uh… which time are you talking about?”

  “There’s more than one?”

  “There’s like a dozen. I apparently have some self-sacrificial tendencies, and it’s landed me in some serious trouble a few times.”

  “Neune, how can you tell that she’s been hurt? You didn’t have that kind of ability the last time we met.”

  “My powers have evolved over time, Moreno. I can use my gift to reach into peoples’ bodies and trace their blood, their history, through their scars. And you, my dear, have a great many on the inside, though none on your skin.”

  “Yes. People keep wanting to hurt me, for some reason. I blame the balance of the universe.”

  “You have known power. I can trace the marks it’s made when you’ve ended up hurting yourself. It’s like your body was at war with your power, the damage is everywhere.”

  “That’s probably because it wasn’t natural. It was put inside me by a… mad man.”

  “That would explain it. But I’ve never heard of such a thing. How was it done?”

  “That’s a long story, and not a good one. It involved the torture and murder of dozens of children.”

  The younger woman flinched, and her eyes darted over to Marcus, looking for confirmation of these terrible news, before returning to stare at you. But your eyes had dropped to somewhere around her waist, but not seeing her. Your focus was on something inside your own mind, a thought that had occurred to you, hearing this woman detail what Prince’s experiments had actually done to you.

  “Oh, my god. Marcus, that’s why my powers are gone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m protective by nature, that’s why I’m always ready and willing to sacrifice myself if that’s the only option I can see. But, the baby changes all that. I’m not willing to sacrifice that, not for anything. So, if my own powers have actually been hurting me, a little bit every time I use them, isn’t it possible that I somehow just forced my body to stop producing those cells?”

  Marcus frowned.

  “I wouldn’t put it past you, but it still sounds improbable. Those cells are incredibly strong, even if you stopped producing them, it would still take months for them to leave your system, and leave you completely powerless. It wouldn’t happen overnight.”

  Neune asked you to look at her again.

  “What I see inside of you, tells me that you’re stronger than any person I’ve met before. If your body decided that the stress it was under was too much to provide a safe place for your child, I do believe that you could and would’ve done whatever was necessary to change that. But I also believe that Marcus is right. Your body might have forced the powers to stop, but I don’t think they’re actually gone.”

  “But I can’t feel them at all.”

  “What exactly can you do?”

  “I can heal people, at great cost to myself, and I can reach into other dimensions, and the energy I find there I can use in several different ways. Like adding to the density of a room or specific area, until it breaks, or displaying images and memories around me, like tv-screens. And recently I created some sort of rainbow dust that seemed to serve no purpose whatsoever, except it was really pretty.”

  “Everything we create has purpose. Where you doing anything special when you produced this dust?”

  You glanced sheepishly at Marcus, and he smiled.

  “I might have… been less than gentlemanly with her at the time.”

  “Ah… that would do it, I suppose. How recently was this?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Good, then the echo will still be there.”

  You blinked and refocused on her.

  “Echo?”

  “All powers leave an echo in your body as they pass through it, if I know what to look for, I can usually find it.”

  “Usually. What are you, the local supers-witch-doctor?”

  “I never stay anywhere for very long. No one here knows about my powers, but wherever I’ve been, I’ve helped people passing by, over the years. That’s probably how you ended up being able to find me. Now, stay still and let me concentrate.”

  You locked yourself to the spot and tried to relax. You couldn’t feel her probing through your blood at all, but after a minute, you felt a strange wave course through you.   It started somewhere in your gut, and worked its way through your body, and into your hands, where it suddenly left you – in the form of rainbow-coloured dust. It didn’t feel the same as your powers normally did, though.   It didn’t shoot out of you in a plume, but instead just accumulated in your upturned hands, as Neune released them. She picked up a pinch of it, and rolled it around between her fingers.

  “Hm. I have to say, you’re right; I really don’t see what the purpose of this might be. But I’m still certain there is one.”

  You felt ambivalent. On the one hand, you were relieved to know that you weren’t as helpless as you’d feared, but on the other, you sort of wanted the powers gone. You’d never wanted them in the first place, and if they really were permanently damaging you, they weren’t worth the price.   But, at the same time, being able to heal the ones you loved was something entirely invaluable to you.

  “So, if I’ve somehow supressed my abilities because of the pregnancy, does that mean they’ll come back once the baby is born?”

  “Probably. I suspect that if you really need them, for any reason, you’ll find that they’re right were you left them. Supers are complex beings. Our powers develop based on equal parts genetics and personality, and those two elements are sometimes in serious conflict with one another, creating chaotic results. Like a boy who’s terrified of hights, finding himself getting the ability to fly.”

  “But mine weren’t naturally generated, so my genetics had nothing to do with it. The cells came from dozens of different people.”

  “That would explain why you have several different abilities.”

  “The scientists at HQ don’t think that. They say that my powers developed exclusively from my personality and body-chemistry, because the introduced cells wouldn’t have been able to influence my DNA.”

  “I’m not a scientist, but I’ve spent the past 15 years trying to help other supers stay out of the spotlight, and I’ve learned that the genetics are always relevant. Even if they didn’t mess with your DNA, they most certainly influenced you.”

  This was getting a bit too heavy for you to absorb any more, so you changed the topic.

  “Thank you, for helping me figure out what’s going on with me, but that’s not why we came to find you.”

  “I suspected as much.”

  Marcus noticed you were struggling to focus, so he took over.

  “We’re here because of the crazy guy who did this to her, Dr. Prince. We think he created some sort of organisation, who’s goal it is to make all humans supers. We’ve found enough breadcrumbs to suggest that we’re dealing with a global network that may very well have solidified into a corporation by now, if they’ve been able to secure funding. And we’re trying to create one of our own, in order to have a chance at defeating them, if and when we manage to draw them out into the open.”

  “So, you’re here hoping to recruit me?”

  “Yes. I know you don’t want the spotlight, and that’s not what we’re asking of you. Our organisation is covert as well, for the time being, and we need our operatives to work in the shadows, and we need them to be available all over the world. We need intel and research, our own global network to spy on theirs.”

  “How many have you been able to recruit so far?”

  “Unless you agree to be audited, we can’t tell you any details.”

  “Audited?”

  “We have a way to know with absolute certainty, that you’re not an enemy, but it would require a bit of a trip.”

  “Where?”

  “Mississippi.”

  Marcus managed to persuade the pilot to take a detour on your return trip to the States, and you landed in Jackson-Ever airport the next morning.   You’d concealed your costumes under regular clothing now, and took precautions to ensure no one was following you to your destination of Bay Park Drive, and a not at all inconspicuous brick-house, probably the biggest property on that street, with a pool in the backyard, and a boat-house by the water. Most of the properties had boat-houses since they where practically sitting on the water, but this house was the only two-story house you could see. Why the man had picked this place was beyond you, but then, he was odd.   When the three of you walked in, Marcus sent a current through the house, to announce your presence, and a really uncomfortable surge of energy hit you in return. You must have felt that thing some 20 times by now, but it still felt just as unpleasant every time.   With the greeting done, you moved through the bottom floor to the living room, and found Verity waiting for you in a reclining chair, with a tall glass of ice-water on a small coffee-table next to him. Other than that, there was no evidence of his presence there. No clothes or shoes laying around, no suit-cases, not so much as a footprint on the tile floors.   He was thin to the point of looking almost hollow, but his warmly toned olive skin was radiant and his black hair and eyebrows made him look like some comic-book character, with those exaggerated features. All made even more poignant by his sharp and dark eyes.

  “Welcome, my intrepid colleagues. What have you brought me today?”

  You didn’t like speaking around Verity, for several reasons, but you did anyway, trying to train yourself to be less unsettled around him.

  “Neune, this is Verity, a super with the ability to tell the truth about anything and everything, and fair warning: he only ever speaks the truth too, and he has no filter and shows no sensitivity towards anyone for any reason.”

  The same uncomfortable energy surged around you, as Verity went to work.

  “Ah… an old friend, returned to the fold. I can see your reasons for leaving were a bit over-dramatized, but no matter. In the time since, you’ve been busy. Hopping from place to place, looking for a purpose. You’re a clever one, good at hiding, staying just out of view. But you’re unfulfilled. Unhappy and lonely. You’re not here because you want to help, but because you’re looking for belonging, a family. No matter, your helpfulness will be no less useful.”

  He paused, and turned to you.

  “She’s acceptable. But, now tell me what’s happened to you.”

  You felt his energy shift towards you, and it made you cringe away from him and close your eyes. Marcus took your hand, knowing how much you disliked Verity’s probing.

  “You’re scared. Not just for your baby, but for something bigger. Something… on the other side of your power. Something you fear will come for you, from the worlds beyond.”

  Your eyes flung open, and you stared at him while actually taking a few steps closer to him, still holding on to Marcus’ hand, as a daunting realisation hit you. You couldn’t put it into words, but you didn’t need to, because the truth-seeker always voiced his findings.

  “You’re afraid that the energy you take from over there, will eventually be claimed in return, and that everything you love will be sucked over there, into the coldness. You fear your own power, because you don’t understand why it allows you access to those places. Those dark, empty, dead worlds. You fear them more than anything in this reality. And the realisation that as a Heroic, you’d be expected to use your abilities much more than you’ve been doing, finally made you scared enough to break the connection. You’ve cut yourself off from those worlds, and now you’re powerless and weak, and you can’t help but wonder which fear will kill you faster.”

  You kept staring into his eyes while he drew the truth from your soul, desperate to hear it, and equally desperate not to.   Tears streamed down your face as his energy let go of you, but you kept staring at him, kept trying to make his words less true somehow.   Marcus finally tugged you back into his arms and held you as the tears started falling in earnest, and you could feel his current surround you while he tried to soothe you.   Neune suggested they go into the kitchen to have a glass of water and sit down, probably because she too wanted a little distance from Verity.   She handed you a glass after Marcus sat you down on a stool, and then the two of them started talking while you did what you could to calm yourself down.

  “Is he always that direct? It seems a bit… brutal.”

  “Yeah, he’s not really a people-person. He’s one of the best kept secrets in all of super’s history. Only a handful of people even know he exists.”

  “Why? Someone with that kind of power…”

  “Could rule the world. Or tear it apart.”

  She slumped a bit in her chair as he cut her off, her own train of thought disrupted.

  “I was gonna say he could help so many people.”

  “Verity’s power manifested unusually early. He was only three when he began being able to tell – not just when he was being lied to – but what the truth behind those lies was. Imagine being three years old and realising that your parents are absolutely sick of not getting any sleep because of you.”

  “Oh, god… parents lie to their kids all the time.”

  “Exactly. Mostly for good reasons, mostly just to protect them, but Verity didn’t have that. And it made him distrustful towards everyone, to the point where he walked away from his family to live on the streets when he was just ten years old. If he wanted to, he could become president, he could force the whole world to bend to his wishes just by holding their lies as his hostages, or calling them out to discredit them. But he doesn’t have that desire for power. All he wants is to be free of lies and dishonesty, which is kind of impossible, so he stays hidden and keeps to himself where nobody can hurt him, and he can’t hurt anyone in turn. He’s only helping us because I asked him.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “I met him almost 20 years ago, by accident. He was living in the streets, and he got attacked by a drunk. And while his powers work just as well on drunks as sober people, the drunks don’t respond to him trying to call them out. Usually, he can keep people from hurting him by jarring them into just not wanting to be around him, by throwing uncomfortable truths at them. But drunks just either don’t hear or don’t believe him, and they’re not really susceptible to the discomfort his ability normally causes. So, this guy just kept going at him, and he was just in his late teens back then, he didn’t know any self-defence or anything like that. He’d never needed it. I happened to be passing nearby, and I heard this kid scream for help, so I ran over and picked the guy up and made sure he knew that it was in his best interest to leave. And when he did, I kneeled down to check on this kid, not much younger than me, and he was so scared. He hurled truths about me at my face as though they were insults, even though I’d just helped him, and it made me realise that this boy was scared of everyone. So, I just sat down opposite him and let him talk until he had nothing more to say. And when he realised that my truths didn’t scare me away, he gave up and just cried.”

  “Poor kid. He must have had so much crap pent up inside after all that time alone.”

  “Yeah. I stayed with him all night, and the more I understood about him, the more I knew that he could never be allowed to become a pawn in the political scene, or the Heroic one, for that matter. So, I got him in touch with people I knew could help him learn what he’d need to survive under the radar, and as a result, he’s been free to live however he chooses. And that’s a gift he’s been trying to repay me for a long time. He was actually happy when I approached him with this.”

  “I feel like he might have gone easy on me.”

  “He doesn’t generally, but he also just doesn’t see the need to disclose every little detail he finds. For the most part, he just voices the relevant stuff. Unless he decides he doesn’t like you, then he’ll reduce you to a crying ball with childhood traumas and unresolved issues.”

  “Um… and… your fiancé? What was that about?”

  His arm tightened around your waist, where he sat next to you, and he sighed.

  “She’s had a difficult relationship with her powers from the start, and she was actually the first person that Verity’s had real trouble probing. Her fears are hidden incredibly deep, and she seems to be hard-wired to protect herself from them, to the point where even her powers have been shielding her from the truth. Now that that barrier has been lifted, Verity could finally see them clearly. It all makes so much more sense now.”

  You didn’t feel like taking part in their conversation, your thoughts and feelings were all over the place, so you just listened and sipped your water and did your best not to cry anymore.   After a few minutes of silence, Neune finally asked:

  “So, what happens now?”

  “If you still wanna be a part of this, we’ll send you back to Europe, to look for anything you can find about any covert organisation working on human/superhuman convergence. This is a marathon, Deema, and we need runners. Are you in?”

  “I am. So, can you tell me how many people you’ve been able to recruit, now?”

  “With you that makes 31 people across Europe, another 28 around Asia and Oceania, and 45 here in the Americas, including Canada.”

  “You’ve been busy…”

  “We don’t have a choice. These people have to be stopped. And because my querida is their first successful subject, they’ll keep coming for her. She’ll always be in danger as long as this threat exists. I can’t allow that, and I refuse to live like that. So, when I say that I’m truly grateful for your help, you can be certain I mean it. Thank you, Deema.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@allmyspideys​ @blueeyesatnight​ @hrk-fic-recs​ @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts​ @computeringturtle​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @giselatropicana​

[arse-crack-thistle]

gifts

rwrb and the five love languages | part two

in which june struggles to have a nice valentine’s date with nora

June never expected to care this much about a stupid holiday like Valentine’s Day, but here she is, practically renovating the apartment to give her girlfriend a perfect night. She strings LED lights around the entire living room ceiling and uses Command hooks to drape the sheer, white Ikea curtains she bought on sale months ago in preparation for this. The lights glow pink through the curtains, making the usually neutral-toned living room appear like Aphrodite’s palace. June’s moved the coffee table into her room and replaced it with a fluffy blanket and a picnic set-up to rival TikTok lesbians.  All she needs now is Nora, if only she weren’t stuck at school.

The texts say, Will be late! Data mining for the gods! [Monet X Change gif] I want to be home with you though. Will bring noodles! And chocolate! Scratch that, I ate the chocolate. Sorry.

June knows she shouldn’t be annoyed because Nora has no idea what she’s coming home to. She also knows who she got into a relationship with—a brilliant mind that’s constantly moving parsecs a minute and has a hard time communicating her feelings. June has to remind herself that Nora loves her even if she doesn’t always show it.

That’s what tonight is for. It’ll give them time to slow down and just be together. Break the routine. Talk or not talk. She doesn’t expect it to be mushy or obnoxious—June isn’t a super, flowery romantic herself—but she does want another sentimental moment to hold onto forever.

Like the night of the 2020 election over a year ago. After Alex and Henry slipped away and everyone else was celebrating in their own groups, Nora pulled June into a storage closet at the venue and kissed her point blank, leaving no questions in her mind that their dabbles the months before meant something more than spectacular.

Or like six months ago when Nora asked her if she wanted to move in with her. She didn’t do anything particularly special, but she slammed her laptop shut while June was throwing on one of her sweatshirts and asked her to stay—to take the second bedroom because Nora needs space sometimes—but to stay with her because she was her favorite person. June answered with a happy “yes,” and Nora got up and kissed her. They didn’t talk much more about it; June just packed up her room at the White House and let the world think they were very best friends.

June pours a glass of wine and waits on the couch, flipping through social media. A few hours ago, her brother posted a picture from the Valentine’s gala he and Henry threw for the London queer youth center. Alex, Henry, Bea, Catherine, and even Philip and Martha hold champagne flutes with cheeky smiles on their faces. The POTUS account has a sweet yet posed picture of her mother and Leo. She likes everything she sees, from the various celebrities she follows to the photos she’s tagged in by fans. The time on her phone reminds her Nora’s now over an hour late.

She texts her, Home soon?

Ten minutes later her phone dings. Need more time. Almost done!

You are aware it’s Valentine’s, yes? And that we had plans?

Yes!!!! But flexible plans, right? Not like we can’t eat noodles and make out later. Will leave soon though. Promise.

I got food covered. Just get home please.

June sighs. She thought she made it clear this morning that they deserved a night with no distractions. God, they need to talk; she’s afraid to, but nothing will get better if she doesn’t say anything and if they don’t try.

The charcuterie board spread she copied off of Pinterest has been sitting out for a while so she moves it from the floor to the fridge. “Soon” for Nora could mean an hour. Empty coffee mugs line the sink. An open pack of weed gummies sits on the counter, hardening. Binders of paperwork and schoolwork collect on the kitchen table. There’s so much Nora in here. June redecorated the living room and kitchen when she moved in, but Nora’s managed to touch everything.

She smiles. If this were Alex, she’d be pissed at the mess, but it’s Nora. The beautiful, erratic mess that is Nora. The girl who can have four different shows on at once and can still get shit done. The girl who always burns pancakes when she tries to cook breakfast for June. The girl who never fails to kiss her first.

June won’t lose her. So she sits down on the floor, runs her fingers over the fleece, and waits. And drinks more wine.

Sometime later, when a key turns in the lock, she downs the last sip in her glass and sets it down. Some old love songs play from her phone, the ones she and Nora love to make fun of. She hears her girlfriend curse when her key gets stuck, and then she bursts through the door and catches herself before she could slip on the hardwood.

“I know you said you got food covered, but I got noodles any—Whoa! You did all of this?” Nora walks into the living room with takeout bags in her hands and stares, mesmerized, at the ceiling. Her contacts must’ve been bothering her because she has on her back-up glasses.

“Hi. Happy Valentine’s Day,” June says and reaches for Nora’s hand to pull her down.

“I’m sorry, June. I had no idea. I thought we both hated this holiday, so tonight wasn’t that big of a deal. But this—this is beautiful,” Nora says, having a hard time meeting June’s eyes.

“Thanks.” June rubs Nora’s hand with her thumb. “And this isn’t really about the holiday. I just wanted to give something nice to you—to us—just us. With no distractions.”

The strings from “At Last” by Etta James play from the phone. The curtains billow from the air blowing out the vent. As much as she hates to ruin the moment, June has to start the conversation.

But Nora takes a deep breath and talks first. “I know I’m a bit all over the place but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I just have a lot going on.”

“I know, but sometimes it feels like you don’t care about us as much as I do. It feels like an afterthought to you,” June says.

“That’s not true, June! Come on! You know me.” She grabs June’s other hand and squeezes.

She squeezes back. “You don’t act with feelings in mind, but I know you have them. And I know it’s hard for you, but I need you to share them with me more. I need a reminder that you care every once in a while.”

Nora’s quiet. She uses her arm to wipe her eyes, knocking her glasses off.  “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

June’s chest collapses. She wraps Nora up in her arms. “I’m sorry, Nor. I don’t mean you’re not enough for me. I love you so much. I—”

“No, I understand. I just—I need help with that. I need you to tell me when you need more—maybe not after the fact like now but—”

June laughs and pulls away. “You’re right. I have a stewing problem. I just assume you’ll eventually get it.”

“Yeah, don’t assume that.” Nora laughs too—the big kind that shows all of her teeth. “Reign me in when I’ve been off for too long. And know it’s not on purpose. I’m seriously spiraling in my own head the majority of the time.”

“Ha! And a hot head it is too.”

They both pause and look into each other’s eyes. And bust out into laughing fits. June makes a fart sound with her mouth, and Nora tackles her. They rumble around on the blanket for about forty seconds before June’s wine glass tips over and surprisingly bounces instead of shattering.

The girls take that as an opportunity to stop and pour some more glasses of wine. Nora preps the takeout while June brings the charcuterie board back to the indoor picnic. Nora changes the music to some weird techno shit, but June snatches the phone. They compromise with One Direction, which makes no sense since 1. June only knows their last album and 2. Nora definitely remembers the story of June turning down the advances of one Niall Horan when she did the daytime talk show circuit after her book deal was announced.

Either way, they stuff their faces and end up cuddled on the floor.

Nora interrupts the moment. “Before we get to sexy time—"

“Jesus Christ.”

“I just wanted to give you something. I would’ve saved it for your birthday, but I can get you something else.” She pops up from the floor and jogs to her bedroom. When she reemerges, she’s carrying a bunched-up blanket. “I didn’t have time to properly wrap it because—you know, you weren’t going to get it yet—although, it probably wouldn’t’ve been wrapped later either—but anyways, happy Valentine’s Day.”

She crouches down and hands over the present. She smiles and bops up and down in anticipation. June unwraps the blanket and sees a book.

It’s one of those photobooks you can get at Walgreens, and on the cover, it reads, “Catalina June Claremont-Diaz and Nora Elizabeth Holleran are NOT good friends…” June flips it over. “They’re fucking GIRLFRIENDS!” Inside is page after page of pictures as early as the day they first met and as recent as New Year’s Eve a month ago. A lot of candid pics they take of each other—Nora’s favorites. A lot of sleepy, cuddle pics—June’s favorites. It’s so perfect.

“Nora—this is—wow.” She feels the tears coming. No one has given her anything like this before.

“I’ll be better—”

“So will I.”

“No matter where my head’s at, I’m always thinking of you—just 50 million other things as well,” Nora says and cups her chin.

June leans in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nora kisses her, and everything wound up in June relaxes. Her body is so warm. “Best Song Ever” starts playing.

Cue sexy time.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part three, part four, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

so this could be for quality time or gifts, but i decided to go with gifts since i had no other ideas for it! it’s definitely not my love language (quality time for the win!) but i had to write something lol. so i made it sapphic bc everything gay is better! <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests