#usually characters will just pop in for a small part and disappear

[homeofthelonelywriter]

A little gamer!Ghost x f!gamer!reader

It all started just a few weeks after you began streaming. Gaming had always been a hobby of yours and after some encouragement from your friends, you created a Twitch account and just started streaming whatever you were playing at the moment. It was truly a variety, going from cozy games like Animal Crossing to more hardcore games like GTFO or Call of Duty. The latter one was where you were randomly paired with him. The infamous, and very popular, Ghost.

He was another streamer, known for his content, but also for his mystic. Aside from the fact that he had the habit of disappearing every now and then, he also never showed his face, only his voice drawing in his thousands of viewers. But it was enough. However, his just as mysterious social media helped. Girls and guys alike were drooling over his shirtless gym pics or the one with just his forearm and hand, the veins protruding. You had to admit, you were one of those girls, although you would never admit it out loud. Especially the ones of him with his helmet on, in full biker gear, in front of his machine? You could stare at those for days.

The moment you saw his name as one of the players in your team, you choked on your drink, almost coughing it up all over your keyboard. The few dozen viewers you had, also pointed out who you were paired with and you just hoped that the low lighting and shitty face cam you had, hid the blush on your cheeks~~, it did not~~. In the beginning, everything went well, as you slowly melted, the more Ghost spoke. As per usual, you had turned off your in-game voice, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, as a female gamer.

But rather quickly, it was just you and Ghost left. “You got a mic, mate?” Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, about to respond via chat before some courage sparked inside you and you quickly activated it. “Yeah, sorry.” It was silent for a few moments before he answered in a low purr. “’s alright, love. Let’s get those fuckers, yeah?” You couldn’t help but giggle softly while nodding. “Yeah, let’s get them.”

The rest of the round went well and you managed to mostly ignore the comments in your chat, which slowly started to grow with viewers, about how cute you and Ghost were. No way that he would even be slightly interested. With just one opponent left, you were about to take the shot, when your cat jumped up onto your table, startling you. A quiet yelp left your lips, and Ghost’s response was immediate. “Are you okay? What happened?” As quietly as you could, you shooed your cat away, but not without getting shot in-game. “Fuck…I-I’m sorry. My cat scared me and I…shit, sorry Ghost, I…” As your character lied on the ground, you watched as his character came sprinting over. “Don’t worry, lovie. I got you.” He quickly healed you. “There you go, now go get him.” He could have done it, easily. But he let you do it and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The match ended with your team winning and you were about to say goodbye to the mystery when a steam message popped up. Here’s my Discord @ghost.real. Hit me up if you want to play, yeah? With a permanent grin, you added him, before continuing your stream.

While in another match, you were blissfully unaware of what was happening, until a friend who was modding your chat for you, messaged you. GIRL HE RAIDED YOU! Startled, you looked to your right and noticed that she was right. Your viewers were now in the hundreds of thousands, your follows and subscriptions went through the roof as you just watched with a stunned face.

Good night, love. Your eyes followed the message until it disappeared in your chat and you still couldn’t believe what was happening.

Next Part

A/N: Definitely didn't write this because I'm crushing hard on one of the guys I game with. No, no way. Also, wouldn't mind turning this into a small series, you guys interested? Also, let me know if you want to be on the perma taglist! Just say if you want all of COD or specific characters. Although I mostly post Ghost.

@dravenskye @herefor-tojis-tits @lucienofthelakes @tessakate

[studiogrimm810]

Not Good For You

pairings/characters: sam winchester x gn!you, dean is barely there

summary: when sam realizes his feelings for you he gets scared and distances himself from you and you confront him about it

warnings: sexual tension, light make-out scene, self doubt

word count: 2,682

A/N: i'm thinking of doing a part two as a follow up smut scene, currently undecided but i would love to hear your thoughts!!

(edit: i made a part 2!! Good Enough)

———————

The three of you had just gotten back from the police station. The boys had used their FBI badges to get information on some disappearances around town and Sam was confident enough that he had enough information to research what they would be hunting. Dean led the way into the motel room and quickly shed off his jacket and loosened his tie. Sam followed suit, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing his computer bag and sitting at the table provided in the motel's kitchenette.

Sam calls out your name, “do you wanna help?” He asks with a small, warm smile and gesturing to a chair across from him.

“‘Course,” you go grab your own bag and pull out your laptop and notebook. You settle in across from Sam and look up to see Dean flipping through the notes that Sam made.

“I’m really thinking it’s a witch. God, I hate witches,” Dean grumbles, setting the notes back down in front of Sam.

“I’m sure you’re right, but we need to figure out its motive and pattern,” Sam sets his chin in his hand, scrolling through his laptop. You grab Sam's notes and flip through the small pages, getting a glimpse over the information.

You start your research and Dean makes a few more phone calls. Every few minutes or so, you catch Sam looking at you and you give him a small smile but he just looks back down at his laptop.

Your recent relationship with Sam has been a bit tense. When you met the brothers a year or so ago, you started to team up every now and again with them when you were working the same case, but for the past few weeks you had followed them on the road from town to town. You three worked together like a well-oiled machine and you honestly wouldn’t pass up spending more time with Sam who had become a dear friend. Although, this is the fourth case in a row you’ve worked together and it seems like Sam has been getting quieter and quieter the more you’re in his presence.

Dean, however, had been ecstatic. He very much enjoyed your company and kept asking for your help with new hunts. You wondered if this was something he ever thought to run by Sam first.

It was odd, usually there was this spark between you and Sam, you had gotten along beautifully and became quite a good team. Sam seemed to enjoy the hours of research you’d help with and the extra set of eyes to witness and make fun of Dean and his dad-humor.

There had also been this current between you two- electric and heated.

Or maybe you just imagined it.

Because the way Sam was acting now was as if you two were just stuck together for a class assignment.

And it was starting to really piss you off.

An hour or so passes before Dean mentioned getting food and left to order takeout from somewhere.

Sam had undone a few of his buttons and completely discarded his tie by now, and his hair was a little messy from how often he had been running his hands through it. The sun was starting to set and you decided to be done with research because the glare of the sun on your screen was giving you a headache. Sam's head popped up for a moment to watch your hands close the lid but he darted his look back to his own screen.

“Are you okay?” You finally blurt out, looking at him with furrowed brows and a mixed look of confusion and little hurt. His head pops back up for a moment, a little taken back. The way his mouth moves nervously and eyes leave your face makes you think he knows that you’ve picked up on his behavior.

“I’m fine,” he smiles with a small nod, unconvincingly. You sigh softly and look down for a moment before speaking again.

“I think after this hunt I’m gonna head west for a while, check out the coast,” you say, stacking your notebook and laptop to shove it back in your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his face soften into his trademark puppy-dog look but he quickly fixes his face and just nods.

“Okay, yeah,” he clears his throat and closes the lid of his laptop. It’s awkward for a moment. Your hands still hold your bag as you’re leaning over from putting away your items, stuck for a moment to decide what you’re gonna do next. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been tired,” he adds, you can tell he really is sorry, but he’s still lying. 

You drop your hold on your bag and straighten your posture again. “That’s not it,” you state, wanting him to just admit whatever it is that’s going on. “You’re different and I don’t like it,” you continue, looking over his face for a reaction. He swallows and looks down, he’s thinking something deeper, clearer, but he won’t admit it. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please,” you push, knowing- hoping that he will just give in.

It’s quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. “I think I’m just a bit burnt out from the job,” he says, packing away his own study items in his bag and standing to walk to his bed. You stand with him.

“Sam- don’t bullshit me, I know you,” you scoff, following him. He sets his bag down and spins around to you.

“You don’t know me and I don’t have to tell you everything,” he defends, “You're just a friend helping us out with a few cases, I don’t owe you anything,” he bites, you can tell his heart is pounding from the way his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. You take a step back, not used to this behavior from Sam.

You don’t know what to say. His words cut through your chest like a knife and you feel furious. You look over his face for any hint of an explanation for this behavior because you had never seen him like this before, he had always openly and readily shared his thoughts or feelings. The both of you have had numerous meaningful conversations in the past so you don't understand why he’s lashing out like this.

“Sam-“ you’re at a loss for words, hurt by his outburst, you’re not sure if you should give into your own anger and argue back or try to stay calm and talk him down. Sam lets out a huff of heavy air, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders slump. He runs a hand through his still messy hair. You try to ignore the way his hair, worn-in shirt, and panting frustration make him look and really, if his anger wasn’t directed at you, it would be a lot harder to contain your thoughts.

“Sam, you can talk to me,” you settle for calm coaxing, knowing your own burst of anger won’t help anybody right now. He turns to pace to the other side of the motel room, you just watch him. You can tell he’s trying to gather his thoughts which seem to be spilled everywhere like an annoying red wine, staining his mind- overcoming him completely. He stops for a moment and you can tell he’s just about come up with something to say.

“It’s complicated,” he sounds so defeated as he follows his words with your name, addressing you completely as his eyes meet your own. You would never understand how such a tall, broad, strong man could sometimes look so beautifully pitiful when overwhelmed with emotion just as he is now. Somehow, even when having a good difference of height over you, he’s found a way to look up at you.

“Take your time,” you say without missing a beat, trying to reassure him that you’re there for him. He’s quiet again and for a second his eyes dip down to your lips or neck, or maybe both. You take a few steps closer, showing him again that you’re here for him. “Something is up with you and I just want to help. Is it me? I know I’ve been around a lot lately and-“

“No, no. It’s not you,” he takes an instinctive step forward, “you’re never the problem.” He shakes his head softly, his gaze has altered slowly over the past few moments and now he’s looking back down on you, a look you’re more used to seeing from him. He’s gathered himself again- well, his confidence at least- because his hand reaches up in a gentle fist to let his thumb caress your cheek.

You’re stunned for a moment, not used to such a ginger and intimate touch from him. Your brows furrow slightly and you tilt your head, not meaning to lean into his hold more but not complaining.

His eyes search your face again and this time you can discern when he’s looking at your lips or neck or eyes. There’s a triad of emotion going on in his eyes but you don’t think you could list which three. They’ve clouded his vision and absorbed the previous stain, funneling it all through to his own lips but instead of speaking, he swiftly opens the span of his fist to hook his fingertips at the catch of your neck and pull you up to him. You’re so taken off guard at the quick movement that you stumble but his other hand is quick to press to your lower back and steady you against his hold, engulfing you completely.

Your hands were lifted in surprise but now idle as you melt into him, letting him support your balance fully. His hand slips back a bit into your hair and ever so slightly twists around a strand. The taste of him alone is enough to short-circuit your mind but the independent touches of his hands on your body and his chest pressed to yours make you weak.

He’s giving his all into this kiss- the good, the bad, the anger and the pain.

As your lips unlock you hold back a whine of discontent and he rests his forehead on yours, caressing your cheek with his thumb and his eyes still closed.

He’s so warm, all you can really focus on is how warm he is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his face overlaid with pain. You pull back enough to look up at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You ask, still a little dizzy and probably a lot flushed.

“I can’t do this to you,” he mutters and lets go of you completely, taking a step back. Cold air quickly wraps around you and you really want him to hold you again.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, taking a step closer to him but he matches your dance and backs up in sync and that hurts. “Sam-” you call softly, trying to get him to look at you again.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair again. “I can’t do this to you,” he scoffs as if seeing himself as a joke. He sits on the edge of his bed and you just stand for a minute, completely confused.

“Talk to me, Sam,” you plead softly, sitting beside him and you’re relieved when he doesn’t move away or tense up.

“I can’t do this to you,” he repeats and the tone in his voice makes it seem like he thinks it will answer all of your questions if he says it enough.

“Do what?” You push.

“I just can’t,” his eyes squeeze closed in ignorant pain, trying to avoid your gaze and forget everything he’s feeling, “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not good for you,” he scoffs out again, finding dry humor in his own misery, “and I can’t be selfish with you. The life you and I live is dangerous, but together it’s damn near suicidal. I can’t do that to you, I can’t put you in danger- I’m not safe for you,” he says, voice thick with emotion and packed with a thousand more unspoken words- words that quite frankly wouldn’t do him justice. “I’m so sorry.” He peppers your name a few times through his raw explanation and each time he addresses you it makes your stomach flutter and refills the rosy flush on your cheeks. Honestly, you could smack him for kissing you like that just to apologize and speak of it as if it were a mistake.

“How long have you felt like this?” His admittance of feelings for you makes complete sense when paired with his distancing from you, as much as you hate to admit, you understand.

“I’ve always known I’m bad for the people around me,” his words break your heart, he really thinks that? “I’ve accepted that but I can’t let you get caught up in our mess,” he means Dean too.

“Sam, everyone has a mess, and you are not bad for the people around you,” you state, believing every word. He shakes his head with a small scoff, immediately brushing you off. “No, Sam, listen to me,” you grab his hand and squeeze it gently, his eyes drag to your grip and his face softens. “You are good. You are kind and generous and you have a good heart and good intentions. You aren’t bad for the people around you, you protect and love and care for your people and it shows,” you can tell he’s listening to and battling your words in his wine-stained mind, a mess you can’t even imagine, “I know that the life we lead isn’t a damn picnic and I also know that maybe it isn’t the smartest idea but what I do know is that if we have a chance to make ourselves happier then we’re idiots if we give that up.”

You let him absorb every thought at his own pace, the quiet like a blanket of comfort for you both.

He finally looks back up at you, every inch of his face showcasing the internal battle he’s having with himself.

“This isn’t smart,” he agrees with a small shake of his head, his eyes betraying him as they dip back down to your lips, hungry and needy. Fucking needy.

“We don’t always have to be, Sam,” you challenge softly, hoping to god that he’ll just give in and hold you and kiss you like that again.

His chest heaves softly, already panting- so fucking needy. The glint in his eyes show what you might as well call fear- of losing you and of having you.

His free hand grabs your chin gently but forcefully leads you to him, his warm lips taking yours again in a soft, sweet, terrifying battle of what-if’s and worst-cases. You grip his hand tighter and use the leverage to climb over top of him to get a batter angle, straddling his lap. His hands land on your hips and his fingers dig just enough to make you tremble at his grip. One hand remains as the other runs up your back and into your hair again, more forceful than your first kiss and way more intoxicating.

Your hands cup his jaw, guiding him along with your lips. He gets to guide your bodies, pressed close and sensual, but when it comes to his sweet mouth you take lead. You can tell your own forcefulness on him makes him feel weak by the sounds that escaped his and your collided lips.

He pulls back for a moment to get a good look at you, hair messy, lips puffy and cheeks flushed. He quickly lifts you and places you on your back on the bed. “I warned you,” he murmured, crawling back over you and letting his hand cup your neck again- a ghost of his previous hold.

To be fair, he really did warn you.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles Leclerc

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 46/45 Word count: 2969 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Bonus chapter

Matilde clicked send and watched the email disappear from her screen. It was nearly noon, and she had granted herself a break once the financial update was out of her hands. Luckily, she had an entire team who could handle the details, but they still needed her final word (even though she still had no idea what was going on. No, only joking). She leaned back in her chair, stretched her arms overhead until her spine popped, then stood and walked away.

The Ferrari HQ was quiet, the usual hum of keyboards and half-muted meetings fading as she passed the open-plan desks. Outside, the sun was warm, something she was finally getting used to. She squinted against the light as she crossed the parking lot toward the bike rack. Her bicycle was one of seven parked there. The light green city bike she had bought nearly fifteen years ago as a student in Copenhagen, was still delivering excellent service. Except today, the chain had slipped off, again, and was hanging awkwardly from the gear.

She unlocked the bike, placed her right foot on the pedal, and pushed off with her left, gliding forward like she was stepping through water. At the side entrance of the garage, she manoeuvred inside and found a free workspace to claim. What a luxury, having something like this available at work, and being allowed to use it. She grabbed her phone, opened YouTube, and searched for a tutorial on fixing a slipped chain. It wasn't her first time doing it, but it had been a while. Sure, there were plenty of people around who could fix it in seconds, but that wasn't the point.

She was avoiding work. And fixing her bike felt like a perfectly justifiable excuse.

She tied her hair up into a messy bun, flipped the bike upside down with a small grunt, and began collecting a few scattered tools while watching the video.

"Matilde," said a familiar voice.

She glanced over her shoulder. Galileo was lowering himself into one of the metal chairs nearby. His expression shifted as he took in the scene before him. "Galileo," she replied, casually.

"You do know we have actual mechanics who also could do that?"

"I'm aware."

"You also know they're literally right down the hall."

"Yup."

He crossed his arms, like he was about to launch into a lecture, but instead paused, eyeing the way she was crouched beside the bike, carefully inspecting the chain. "I will never understand the love people have for bicycles."

"Trust me, it's a love-hate relationship," she muttered. "I grew up with this thing. Cycling's just... part of life. And when I bike to work, I don't have to force myself to work out later. Win-win."

He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Even after five years, you still manage to surprise me."

"Glad I'm keeping things interesting."

Silence settled between them, interrupted only by the clink of metal tools and the occasional Danish voice from the YouTube tutorial. Galileo watched her, the usual quick confidence in his chest giving way to a creeping wave of guilt. He had thought this through. Rehearsed it. But now, sitting here, he wasn't sure anymore. What if he was wrong? What if this was a mistake?

He didn't want to disappoint her. Not her. He respected Matilde too much for that, more than she probably knew.

"Ow," she hissed suddenly, pulling her hand back. "Fucking hell. Just when my nails were perfect, this fucking bullcrap happens." She sighed, examining the smudge of grease and broken nail. "Whatever."

The way she still biked to work, the fact she was down here trying to fix the damn thing herself... Galileo swallowed the tightness in his throat. He would never meet another boss like her. Not even close. Matilde was... special. One of one. If someone asked him to explain why, he wouldn't even know where to start.

"I, uh..." he finally said, his voice uneven. Matilde looked up, focused on him now. He took a breath. "I really need to tell you something. And it's getting very hard not to just blurt it out." He tried to smile, but failed. "Can we move our dinner to lunch instead?"

She smiled at him. "Yeah, sure."

"Perfect," he said, nodding a little too eagerly.

But she didn't look away. Her eyes narrowed, studying him. Something was off. He was avoiding eye contact, his fingers fidgeting against the chair. She looked around her to see if anyone was there and tilted her head.

"What?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet, gentle, even, but carried that unmistakable edge of clarity she always had when she had already figured it out.

His heart dropped. He looked around instinctively, like someone might have overheard them. "I..." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

He braced for her reaction... but it didn't come. Not how he expected.

She didn't look angry, or disappointed. She just... froze. Her expression went neutral, cold even. And yet, her eyes shimmered, tears starting to gather. That contradiction startled him. For five years, he had seen her face crises, failures, brutal headlines, and back-to-back race weekends. Never like this.

"No," he said slowly, blinking, when the realisation hit him. "Wait. Are you leaving too?"

She didn't answer. Not right away.

Tears welled in his eyes now, uninvited. "Matilde..."

But then she smiled. Not a big one, not a triumphant one, just something soft, and oddly peaceful. She gave him a little nod. "Surprise," she whispered.

He stared at her, dumbfounded.

"God," she breathed out, rubbing her hands over her face, "shit," she mumbled when she realised she was probably smearing the grease all over her face. She looked at him again. "I didn't want to say it, thank you for saying it first. I've been having the worst anxiety about how to bring it up."

Galileo let out a laugh, wet with relief and disbelief all at once. "I thought I was going to ruin everything."

Matilde shook her head. "You're not ruining anything. We're just... both done."

He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Wow."

"Yeah."

They sat in the quiet hum of the garage, surrounded by half-finished projects, motors, and oil-stained tools, two people on the edge of big change, still grounded by a broken bike and an overdue conversation.

"Why and when?" Galileo then curiously asked. "I swear, I don't know how you did this, but you hid everything really well."

She shook her head. "Trust me, it was not. But I handed in my letter this morning." Matilde nodded when she saw his questionable face. She licked her lips. "Because I bought a house. In Denmark. My dream house since I was a kid and... I just had to buy it when it was for sale. It was literally now or never. And I just want to start a family."

"With whom?"

Her face straightened. "I don't care. I just want to be available for that. I want to have children, with or without a donor. I mean, I always need a donor to get pregnant, but you get the point. And if I'm lucky to birth one myself, obviously."

He smirked at her babble. "I get it, I get it."

"And because I'm done here, I've done what I wanted to do and I'm ready for someone else to take it over."

He nodded. She explained it so simply, but he noticed the imperfections Matilde had for this job since this year. She was still the very best and on top of her game, but the sparkle wasn't always there anymore. Not like it used to be. "Congratulations," he smiled.

"Thanks. And you?"

He shrugged. "Felt it was the right time to leave. I'm done with F1 and I'm moving to Australia because why not?"

"Yeah, why not?" A laugh rolled over her face, which made him smile as well. "No, honestly, Galileo, go for it. You deserve it."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," he gratefully smiled. "Anyway, should I book a meeting for tomorrow, or do you want to wait?"

"Mate, that is something for later. First, I need to hear everything from you. Once I'm done fixing this bike, we will go out for lunch. I need to tell the boys first about our departure, then I will book a general meeting myself. No worries." Matilde took a deep breath. "Holy shit," she mumbled.

His heart fluttered. This is why she was the best boss. "Sure." He looked around, still no one in sight. "But what will you do for this year's title?"

"I don't care. Charles has two titles, Max has two titles with Ferrari, I have four titles with Ferrari, and we are running for two titles this year. We are not even halfway through yet. I don't care who wins, as long as no one dies and gets injured. We just need to enjoy the last half, and that's it. Unless, when are you leaving?"

"Finishing this season."

They locked each other's gaze, taking a moment to embrace the calm before the storm.

–

Max gave Charles a brief wave to let him know he had seen him, then cruised slowly down the street in search of a parking spot. He found one quickly, slid into it, and headed toward the building. Charles was just about to go in, but paused when he noticed Max approaching. He was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Nice bouquet," Max said, eyeing it as he joined him. It had been Charles's turn to buy one.

"It screamed her name," Charles smirked, glancing down at the wild arrangement. As the main characters, two red roses nestled among the chaos, because why not? "After five years, I never would have thought that we would have our monthly work dinner at her house after all." It made him think of the offer she made this afternoon:

"Are you in for dinner tonight?"

Charles raised an eyebrow at his boss, who entered the sim office, a slow grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He straightened up, arms folding across his chest like a man preparing for a challenge he had been waiting for years.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Matilde?" he asked, his voice laced with mischief. "Should I let you pick the place, or do I have to come up with something classy?"

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "In your dreams, Charles."

The thing was... he had. For five years. Five years of dreaming about someone who felt just out of reach, even when she was standing right in front of him. Strong. Untouchable. Unavailable. And yet, there she was.

"Seven o'clock. My place," she added casually, turning to leave.

Dangerous place. Too familiar. Too personal. Too close to everything he had spent five years pretending not to want.

"Do you know where Max is?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

Oh. Right. That was more on brand. Dinner wasn't a date. It was logistics. And why would anything change now, after all this time? Charles cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts back into order. "He's over at aero, last I saw."

She gave a short nod, that easy, unreadable smile on her face. "Perfect. I'll cover dinner." And just like that, she was gone. Still close. Still untouchable. And Charles was left exactly where he had always been; with a grin, a stupid flicker of hope, and absolutely no idea what seven o'clock was going to mean.

"We got promoted, apparently," Max said dryly. Still, he thought, if anyone had gotten close to Matilde, it was Charles. Literally inside her. Not that it mattered. "You ever been here?" he asked.

"Nope. Just dropped her off once," Charles replied, though the answer was already obvious.

"I have. Not often."

As they made their way to the entrance, they passed a pizza delivery guy scanning the nameplates. He held up the boxes in question. "Matilde?" he asked.

Max stepped forward. "Yeah, we'll take those."

The guy blinked, shrugged, and handed them over. Max handed him two euros; everything he and Charles had in cash.

They carried the pizzas upstairs. When they reached her floor, the door was slightly ajar.

Max tapped his knuckles against it, then nudged it open with his elbow. "Special delivery!" he called.

Soft music played somewhere inside. A moment later, Matilde appeared in the hallway, curls thrown up in a messy twist and a few euros in hand. Her eyes flicked between them and the pizzas, then she smiled. "Oh. Hello. You stole those off the delivery guy?"

"Technically, we intercepted," Max said, placing the boxes on the counter. "Proactive hospitality."

"Very nice. Please tell me you tipped him?"

"Two euros," Max grinned. "All we had."

She leaned in to greet him with a quick kiss on the cheek. Charles held up the bouquet.

"These are for you."

Matilde's expression softened. Wildflowers. And two red roses. Charles and Max. Was that symbolic, or just Charles being dramatic? "They're beautiful," she said, voice quiet, almost cautious. She kissed his cheek too, and the scent of his cologne lingered a little too long. Dangerous.

He followed her into the living room, where Max had already claimed a spot on the couch. Charles glanced around and couldn't help but feel... charmed. The table was modest, white, wooden, with few colourful details. Not showy. No Ferrari-branded nonsense. Just Matilde. She had set this herself. "Nice setup," he said, genuinely.

"Thanks," she replied, gesturing for them to sit.

They ate quietly at first, hunger making conversation unnecessary. Charles took in the apartment. Clean lines, warm tones; a quiet blend of Italian soul and Scandinavian restraint. Nothing screamed racing or management, or status. Just like how she was.

He exhaled slowly. He didn't know why she had chosen to host the dinner at her place, but he was glad she had. It felt like the right place to say it; quiet, private. No eyes or ears but theirs.

"I need to get something off my chest," he said suddenly, then before he could second-guess it, he blurted, "I'm taking a sabbatical year next season."

Max and Matilde both froze.

"There," Charles added with a nervous laugh. "Finally said it. Been holding it in for weeks."

Max's eyes flicked from him to Matilde, waiting for her reaction. Her expression tightened; not angry, just stunned. And then it sank in. She was losing both her drivers. Max had announced his retirement at the start of the season: one last year, and then done. And now Charles. Sabbatical. No guarantees.

"I want to travel," Charles continued, filling the silence. "Backpack, maybe. I don't know yet. But I need a break. Just life, without racing. Then I'll see what happens." He looked at her, heart pounding. Still, she didn't say anything. She just nodded slightly and kept eating. Was that... passive-aggressive?

A long silence followed.

"What are you thinking?" Max finally asked, voice low. "Mattie... don't leave him hanging."

Matilde blinked, swallowed her bite, and straightened up. "Sorry," she said quickly, then turned to Charles. "I think it's a great decision. Go see the world while you can." Her smile was warm, but a little too careful. "I-"

Charles cut in. "What's your real reaction?"

He didn't want diplomacy. He wanted honesty.

She bit her lip. Then sighed. There were so many thoughts going through her mind. Her lips parted, and she looked at Charles. "I am out of words, I am so, so, so, sorry," she whispered. She really meant it. As team principal, this was her worst-case scenario. Two fantastic drivers were not racing for Ferrari next season, voluntarily. GP had resigned last week. This morning, Galileo had too. And now Charles. The pillars of her team were crumbling.

And then... her.

She covered her mouth with her hand and dropped her gaze.

But on the other hand, the team principal was resigning at the same time as her drivers and assistant. So technically, this wouldn't be the problem of the team principal anymore.

She had also resigned.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

And personally? She meant it, she thought Charles was doing something brave and admirable. She was even jealous. Backpacking the world? Freeing himself from everything? It sounded like something she had never allowed herself to do.

But what could she say now?

She cleared her throat and straightened up again. "Okay," she began. "Sorry for the awkward pause. Don't take it personally." Her voice steadied. "As team principal, I would like to thank you for the amazing years you have brought to Ferrari. There were ups and downs, moments we all learned from, we laughed, we had fun, we raced, we won, we lost, we grew. And you should be proud of it. I am proud of you. And it sounds so heavy, sabbatical year, I mean, you could be back the next season. Or not. You will see how it goes, right? Go with the flow." She took a sip of wine. "And personally, I am very happy for you, you should absolutely do it." And then she took another sip. "And personally, I'm really happy for you. You should absolutely do it."

Charles tilted his head. "But?"

Her eyes met his. He looked confused, disappointed. "I- fuck. I fucked that up," she muttered. "This wasn't how I wanted to react. Honestly, I don't even know how I should've reacted." She removed the hairclip from her hair and ran both her hands through it, frustrated. "I've been thinking about how to explain this to the board. Max is leaving, that's public. This morning I got Galileo's resignation. GP quit last week. Now you. And..." she paused for a breath, "...I handed in my resignation this morning too."

And just like that, the room shifted.

Max raised his brows, looking between the two of them. Charles turned to him, wide-eyed. Matilde exhaled, cheeks puffed, then took another sip of her wine.

"Well," Max said, grinning slowly. "How are you going to explain that to the board? Or the press? People are gonna think we staged some kind of protest." Then his grin widened. "But hey, that also means no more contracts after this season." He leaned in, playful. "And no contracts means..." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris @i-survived-a-shark-attack

[cinnamooniee]

❝𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭 [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 4] - 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐰❞

characters: high school dropout and barista JK x high school student female reader

genre: fluff, angst (?)

warnings : none

word count: 577 (very short but it's a bit of a special chapter to get to know Jungkook more? 🌟)

Previous Next

Chilled and strong, cold brew reflects the exhaustion that’s more than physical—it's the kind that runs deep. It's powerful in its own way but lacks the usual warmth or comfort, offering a sharp, slightly bitter taste that matches the emotional fatigue, a reminder of how draining it can be to push through each day when everything feels too much.

Jungkook's side ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Jungkook pulled up to the curb just a block away from YN's house, his heart still pounding from the ride. He watched as she stepped off the motorcycle, her nervous energy palpable. He wanted to say more, to ask if she was okay, but instead, he gave her that reassuring smile, hoping it would be enough.

As she disappeared into the distance, his mind lingered on the way she had smiled at him, despite everything she was going through. He hated that she had to carry so much weight, and a part of him wished he could do more to help. But all he had was his time, and for tonight, that had been enough.

Jungkook sighed as he revved the engine, ready to head back to his apartment. The streets were empty now, the quiet of the evening settling over him. But as he drove back through the familiar streets, the weight of his own troubles settled in. His shifts at the café had barely been enough to pay for the bare essentials, and with the looming bills he had to deal with, he knew he’d have to pull extra hours again.

When he got home, he dropped his helmet on the counter and collapsed onto the couch. He was too tired to think clearly, but that wasn’t something he had the luxury of right now. He reached over to the small pile of mail that had accumulated over the past few days. Bills. Late notices. Just more weight on his shoulders.

He opened the latest letter with a grimace. The notice was clear: another utility bill was due, and it was a larger amount than usual. The heat, the electricity, everything was piling up. There were already enough debts hanging over him, and now this.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, crumpling the bill and tossing it aside. He could feel his frustration mounting. Every time he thought he was getting a break, something else came up. More bills, more hours at the café, barely scraping by. The whole cycle felt never-ending.

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes falling to the guitar leaning against the wall. The one thing that still made him feel like himself—his escape from all this. But lately, even playing his guitar felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford. He had to focus on keeping his head above water.

He glanced at his phone, seeing a message from Y/N pop up. “Hey! Got into quite the argument.. but i'm okay. I'll text you later.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He could feel the weight of everything crashing down on him, but he pushed it aside for now. Y/N had enough to deal with, and he didn’t want to add to her stress. He could give her the distraction she needed, even if it was just for a little while.

But once again, the weight of his own struggles settled in, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how hard he worked, it would never be enough. He would push through. He had to. But for tonight, he couldn’t help but feel a little lost in it all.

Jungkook took a deep breath, grabbed his guitar, and started strumming. Maybe for a few minutes, he could lose himself in the music—if only to forget about everything else.

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Love,Lies And Loki~9

Summery: Loki gifts Y/n a kitten that looked exactly like him when he turned into a cat. And that cat is just as magical as Loki.

Characters: Loki x girlfriend!reader

Note: All characters except Loki are mine!

||Master List||

||Part 1 || ||Read Part 1 Before Part 2||

10. In A Blink Of A Star

🐈‍⬛ The Enchanted Gift (P-2)🐈‍⬛

It began with whispers.

Not from people, no—this whisper was unmistakably magical. The air shimmered slightly every time she walked into a room that morning. The coffee machine mysteriously brewed her favorite flavor without her touching it. The plants near the windows perked up with unusual liveliness. And Loki?

Loki was nowhere to be found.

Y/N blinked at the silent living room, blinking sleepily while wrapped in her fleece robe. “Loki?” she called, peeking into the kitchen. “Did you enchant the coffee maker again?”

No answer.

That was her first clue.

The second was the note she found on the fridge:

“Dearest mortal troublemaker, stay in bed and don’t ruin the surprise. That’s an order. – L”

Her lips quirked into a smile. He always did have a flair for dramatics, even in handwritten notes.

She padded to the bedroom and flopped back onto the comforter. “If this is one of his ‘chaos-themed birthday surprises,’ I swear—”

A loud pop! sounded from the living room.

Y/N sat up with a gasp. “Loki?”

The door creaked open.

And in walked the God of Mischief himself—looking far too pleased with himself for someone who disappeared all morning. He was dressed in his usual black and green ensemble, hair perfect, smirk even more so.

In his arms, nestled in a woven enchanted basket, was the tiniest, fluffiest black cat Y/N had ever seen.

With glowing green eyes.

“…No,” she breathed.

Loki raised an elegant eyebrow. “No?”

“You didn’t.”

He strode forward, the cat mewing softly as it peered around the room with curiosity. “I did. Happy birthday, my love.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Loki—you brought me a cat?!”

“A familiar, to be precise,” he said with a smirk, setting the basket gently at the foot of the bed. “She’s not ordinary. None of my gifts are.”

The kitten leapt out—graceful, silent, landing neatly on Y/N’s leg. She looked up at her with those glowing green eyes and purred.

Y/N’s heart melted. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Loki said, folding himself beside her, watching her reaction closely. “She was born from shadow and starlight. One of Freyja’s own bloodline.”

Y/N blinked. “You mean—actual Norse magic cat?”

“She once rode on chariots pulled by her ancestors.”

She gasped dramatically. “You got me a royal magical cat for my birthday?!”

“I have impeccable taste,” Loki said smugly.

The kitten rubbed her tiny head against Y/N’s chest before curling into her lap. She was purring like an engine.

“I think I’m in love,” Y/N whispered.

“Careful,” Loki murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s my job.”

⸻

Once the initial shock and joy subsided (and the kitten made herself thoroughly at home), Loki prepared a small birthday breakfast in the kitchen. Which, for a god, meant conjuring things instead of cooking them. Still, the table sparkled with decadent pastries, a fresh fruit platter, and a little cake topped with emerald frosting.

Y/N carried the kitten in her arms like royalty. “She needs a name.”

Loki poured two glasses of sparkling apple cider. “I was thinking Nótt. She brings night and mystery wherever she walks.”

Y/N considered it. “Or maybe Luma? She looks like a star trapped in velvet.”

“Not dramatic enough,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course the drama king says that.”

Loki smirked. “You wound me.”

Y/N gave the kitten a kiss on the head. “Okay, how about Nyx? Goddess of the night.”

Loki looked genuinely impressed. “Now that I like.”

The kitten sneezed softly.

“I’ll take that as approval,” Y/N said.

⸻

After breakfast, the three of them collapsed on the couch. Loki lounged lazily, one arm around Y/N’s shoulder. Nyx was curled into the crook of her elbow, purring like a small thunderstorm.

“Do you like her?” Loki asked quietly, voice softer than usual.

Y/N turned to him, eyes wide. “Loki. I love her. She’s perfect.”

“I wasn’t sure,” he murmured. “Midgardian pets are… unpredictable.”

“She’s not just a pet,” Y/N said, scratching under Nyx’s chin. “She’s a piece of you. A gift from you. That makes her special.”

His expression softened.

“I know we joke a lot,” she continued, “and you love being dramatic—”

“Obviously.”

“—but this? This is one of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever done for me.”

Loki looked down, almost shy. “You’ve given me a home. A life. A place to… belong. The least I could do is gift you a companion to remind you of what magic lives in quiet moments.”

Y/N leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best magic in my life.”

He turned and caught her lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

Nyx meowed in protest.

“Jealous already?” Loki muttered against Y/N’s lips.

“She is your cat,” she laughed.

⸻

That night, Nyx proved herself Loki’s true familiar.

She managed to knock over a glowing crystal, enchant a ball of yarn to float, and teleport herself into the kitchen in under an hour.

Y/N watched in awe. “She’s chaos incarnate.”

“I told you she was perfect,” Loki said smugly.

They sat on the floor together watching Nyx chase her own tail through tiny sparks of green magic.

“She’s going to be trouble,” Y/N whispered.

“So are you.”

She looked up. Loki’s gaze was fond, intense. “What?”

He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You enchanted me, you know. Long before this kitten ever did.”

Y/N grinned. “You love me.”

“Terribly so,” he said with a fake groan. “It’s exhausting.”

She laughed, falling into his arms. Nyx jumped into her lap as if claiming her space.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” Y/N whispered into his shirt.

Loki kissed the top of her head. “Believe it, darling. Because I’m never letting go of it.”

⸻

A Letter Left by Loki

Y/N found it on her nightstand the next morning.

To my precious mortal,

I thought long and hard about what to give you. A thousand treasures crossed my mind—enchanted gems, starlight bottled in glass, even a cloak woven from the aurora borealis.

But then I saw her. A creature born of magic, mystery, and quiet mischief. Like you.

So I brought you a companion who sees the world through glowing green eyes. May she remind you every day that you are loved, deeply and wildly, by the trickster who once claimed to only love power.

Happy birthday, my heart. And thank you—for every laugh, every scolding, every kiss.

Yours, always—Loki.

-The end

[minyard-05]

2, 10, 23, 29 and 34 for the writer ask games? <3

ask game

2. Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

GOLDEN my absolute baby she's everything to me i'm so proud of her I write golden when there's nothing else i can write and given there's barely any canon to work with until andrew shows up it's just me messing with aaron's character and giving him little quests to go on and i honestly love it so much. a whole tiny world i can play with like a doll's house. also it has sebastian moore and i love him to death <3

10. Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet?

renee honestly. she's so interesting to me and i have a mini fic im thinking of writing for her but i'm trying to be somewhat restrained with the ongoings i post (active of which i have. uh. four? five? i dont know but too many) but i'd love to explore renee more i love her

23. What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

my CIA au where andrew disappeared investigating the Butcher and the story follows aaron & kate 2 years later as they're following this new serial killer/criminal gang that's popped up and slowly their case starts to parallel andrew's cold case that was dropped after he went missing and i have the WHOLE thing plotted out its so good i just need to actually do it lmao. maybe after heaven & hell finishes

29. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

as many times as i can stand to look at it honestly. sometimes for a while after posting i go and reread stuff and make some small edits but tbh i edit as i write for the most part

34. What is your favorite fic to get comments/messages on?

all of them honestly, every time i get an email from ao3 i go like this

but right now probably heaven & hell or anything from the HTSAL series because those are two of my faves rn :P

[zorakas]

Heads up! More characters on the way! <3

✧ Rose | Celebi | Psychic/Grass type ✧

Rose is a really rare Celebi, both born shiny and with a special ability. She grew up fending for herself due to being abandoned, and she would have been too young to even remember anything about her parents. She lived on her own for a long time in a forest surrounding a small poketown. There was a small, seemingly abandoned treehouse in the forest that hadn't been used in years it seemed, and she made this her home. A group of local pokemon kids discovered her, and for a while they considered her a member of their friend group. They'd stop by after school and play with her, and bring her snacks and such. They even gave the name Rose to her, due to her reddish pink hue. One day, the group of kids showed up to hang out with her and one of them had an arm sling due to an injury they had gotten a few days previously. Rose decided to use her special healing ability (which allows her to heal all external wounds, except for her own) to heal their injured arm before they all hung out together as normal. Everyone in the group thought that it was super cool. Unfortunately, those kids would go home to tell their parents about it, who in turn decided to keep their kids from visiting her again, fearing about them meeting a random pokemon out in the woods, especially if they were an ability user. The kids all tried to explain to their parents that she was harmless, but no one wanted to hear it. They never visited her again, and Rose never knew what happened to them, but she would be all alone once again. When she is about 14, she is discovered by a zoroark who is working as a bounty hunter. He chases her down, but in an instant she disappears from his sight, seemingly able to warp away. This back and forth exchange happens for several years, as she becomes his main target due to her rarity and evasiveness. Any time he seemingly has an upper hand on her, she escapes, which frustrates him.

✧ Luca | Mew | Psychic type ✧

Luca is a mew who grew up with really overbearing parents. He had to do well in school, his friends had to be approved by his parents, etc. His parents cared for him in their own ways, but they were terrible at showing it. Eventually, this led to Luca getting rebellious, which leads to him eventually getting kicked out. Luca didn’t care though, because now it felt like a weight was off of his shoulders, and he didn’t have to walk around on eggshells anymore. He is cocky, rebellious, and sarcastic. But, he has a good heart. He is caring, and passionate. Although he’s not a special pokemon, he is a mythical pokemon, and shiny too. There’s a certain group of bounty hunters at this time that were running around. These bounty hunters were constantly after mythical or legendary pokemon, and would stop at nothing to capture them. They would usually just sell them off afterwards. Unfortunately for Luca, they were after him. He gets injured while trying to escape the leader of this bounty hunting group (the zoroark) and gets away, but not for long.

✧ Ace | Raboot | Fire / Dark type ✧

In comes Ace, a raboot who, much like Gavin the dewott, was originally human but woke up strangely as a pokemon, having no memory of his human past. Despite this, he’s determined to keep moving forward and to figure out why he feels like he just popped into existence in a world he doesn’t recognize. Ace plays a key part in kicking off my pokemon universe’s main story. While wandering along, he finds an injured mew who he’ll learn later is named Luca. This is the first… err.. person? He doesn’t know what to call them, but this mew looks like they’re somewhat of the same species maybe. This is the first living thing that’s been around him since he’s been wandering around for a while in these woods he’s in currently. He runs over to them and starts to speak in a language that's unfamiliar to himself but somehow he knows? (Cause hes a pokemon now). Upon asking Luca if he is alright, and being warned by him to get out of there, a bounty hunter comes into view. It is the zoroark mentioned previously before. The zoroark captures them both with ease, and is able to determine that Ace is not really a pokemon. The zoroark ends up using Ace to capture Rose, the celebi he has been after for years, as Ace would be unknown to her. Ace is forced to do this, otherwise his new friend Luca would suffer from his refusal. Though Ace is used to capture Rose, the three of them (Ace, Rose, and Luca) form a friendship, and help each other escape, but not without hardship. The zoroark ends up damaging Rose's wings in an attempt to stop them. She permanently loses her ability to fly. Later on, Ace gifts her a scarf, which makes her feel less conscious about the appearance of her tattered wings.

Ace and Luca's relationship is like a friendly rivalry. They both tease and taunt each other (Luca usually is the initiator), but they will always have each other's backs. They are truly best friends, and they wouldn't have it any other way. Ace also has great leadership qualities, and always looks out for the entire friend group. He is more than willing to put his life on the line for his partner, Rose, or anyone else in the friend group. Rose struggles with feelings of self worth and self doubt a lot. She feels like she is responsible for all their hardships that come from the zoroark, who still tries to raise hell with their group of friends. She feels like the reason everyone is involved at all is because of her, and though she tries to put on a happy mask in front of everyone, in truth she feels like everything is her fault. Ace sees through this mask, and tries to reassure her constantly. Though her healing ability is incredibly useful to the group, it becomes a source of anxiety and grief for her as the zoroark uses this as a means to get to her head.

[poltergeistsoup]

got any headcanons for Noodle (also I really love your rule 63 gorillaz they are such gender to me)

Thank youuuuu I love doing stuff with the genderbends, I do think about them all the time so they’ll keep showing up, don’t worry 🫡

Using this as an excuse to talk about her character cuz I’ve experimented with a few different interpretations of her so here’s my current thoughts:

* Idk if this is canon and retconned or fan theory but my personal view of the events of El Mañana is that she wanted to fake her death to get out of the public eye. It subsequently went horribly wrong, but she essentially wanted to disappear. This feeds into my next point:

* I know that initially, her being very young symbolized the now and future of music and pop culture, so she was supposed to be into technology and easily adapting to changing times. However, I think that now that she’s older and has been in the public eye for so long and with the stress and anxiety that comes with it, she wouldn’t want to be online. She wouldn’t be on tik tok, she would be planning her Gone Girl era. I think she’d be caught between wanting to be in the know of what’s going on but being utterly overwhelmed by growing up with little privacy and seeing how women are treated in the industry would not make her want to play into the roles people expect of her.

* She also didn’t get a lot of socialization with kids her age so she was always praised by adults for how smart she was, but now she comes across as blunt and strange to people talking to her outside of a working environment. Part of it is her unusual upbringing, part of it is autism

* She comes across very well in interviews but she’s not quite as good at navigating one-on-one or casual settings. She doesn’t mean to be rude, she’s just usually around a small group of people who know her well and share her strangeness

* She’s the least approachable of the four when it comes to random fan interactions. She’s not mean but she comes across as standoffish and might throw your phone if she says “no pictures” and gets ignored

Other miscellaneous headcanons

* She’s one of those maniacs who deals with menstrual cramps through exercise

* She burps like a truck driver because when she was a kid 2D or Murdoc would respond with “good one”

* She’s not afraid of much because she liked impressing people with feats of strength and showing off that she was brave. If you’re dating her, she’d be the designated bug killer

* She was very energetic and liked roughhousing, which the other 3 tried to keep up with but she would run them ragged. Even now she gets a burst of energy and subjects 2D to shit like

* She helps Russel if he happens to be cooking but on the rare occasion she does cook, she will not share with anyone

* Despite being small she will take up as much space as she wants. If someone is sitting on the couch with her she will lay her legs across them and hog 3 blankets

* Guys you don’t wanna hear it but she’s not the meme queen you want her to be, she’s not on Tumblr. If she’s doing anything, she’s sharing cat videos between herself and Russel. She doesn’t know gougar. She doesn’t know Vines either. Her humor is dry and deadpan as well. She says something sarcastically and people will take her at face value

* She hates being spoken down to or treated like a child but will quickly pull the “but I’m the baby” card with the other 3 when it’s convenient

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 15: Experimentation / Muzzle / Transformation Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Morceau Oleander, Linda the Hideous Hulking Lungfish of Lake Oblongata Warnings: (Canonical) animal abuse Summary: Linda had heard about humans. She never imagined that her first encounter with them would be as permanently life-altering as it was.

The last thing Linda had expected was getting caught.

Humans didn't usually fish here, and besides, she knew not to fall for it when they did. She hadn't even been out of her mucus bubble when it happened—she'd merely been watching something on her mini-TV when the bubble abruptly popped.

That never happened before, but whatever was going on, she knew it couldn't be good. Though she briefly mourned the loss of her TV, she scrambled to swim away from whatever had ruined her home. One moment she was swimming forward, the next, she was scooped out of the water by a tangle of strings. And then she saw...

Abruptly she curled up on herself.

She'd forgotten how gigantic humans were. The one who had managed to grab her was impossibly tall with bright, gleaming eyes, and she could sense another shorter—but still huge—human just behind him. Sam had once told her that humans could be friendly, but these two looked anything but.

"Aha! A perfect specimen!" the tall one cried, holding her up in the net like a deranged trophy.

"Well, glad that's done with," the other said. "Still don't really get how we plan to use this thing."

Use?! Linda thought, and shook her tail, sending her voice out to the tall man. Unhand me! I am not to be used!

To her surprise, her voice seemed to bounce right off of the human's gigantic head. What—?!

"Of course you don't! That's why this part's my job." He lifted the net up higher, and she wriggled. "With this lungfish, we'll get these little kid-shaped piles of gobbledygook!"

"You'd better be right, Cal."

None of this made any sense to Linda, but it definitely didn't sound good. Again she wriggled, preparing to flip out of the net. Just as she jumped, however, a rubbery human hand seized her tail, sending a jolt of pain down her spine.

"Stay still!" the tall man hissed before flinging her toward the shorter human.

"AUGH!" the human cried, scrambling to keep a hold of her as she desperately flailed for freedom.

"Hold onto that thing, will ya?"

"But you said—"

"You want those brains or not?"

"I—ugh."

Linda struggled against the man's grip, but he squeezed her against his chest.

Seeming to sense her anger, he glanced down at her. "Look, buddy, I don't like this any more than you do," he grumbled.

I doubt that.

The man jumped, nearly losing his grip on her.

"Morry!" the tall man growled.

Before Linda could say anything more, she found herself in a small, green, floating bubble. The shorter man somehow dragged this bubble over to where their boat floated at the edge of the water, and from there, they carried her far, far across the lake.

—-

After carrying her up what seemed like an enormous mountain, they finally arrived... somewhere. Just as Linda felt her scales were starting to dry out, the bubble she was in disappeared (without popping, somehow), dumping her into an insultingly small, transparent bowl of water.

Unhand me! she thought, splashing in the bowl. I will not dwell in this habitation!

The tall man reached into the bowl to grab her—to stop her, she assumed, until she felt multiple things like the suckers on an octopus being shoved onto her body. Finally an enormous something—like half of a clam shell—was shoved onto her head, and finally the man backed off. Linda braced herself against the bottom of the bowl, struggling to lift herself, but the strange devices attached to her made it hard to move. What... is going on?

"This better work," the shorter man said.

"Oh, it will! Behold!"

The tall man pulled on something, and—

Linda's body seized.

It was like she was being attacked by an eel, but a hundred times worse. The electricity coursed through her again and again and again, sending her body into convulsions. Her frame was wracked in pain, and abruptly she felt that the bowl, already too small, had shrunk, and was pressing down on her on all sides. With a surge of panic she lashed her tail—or perhaps it did so on its own—and her prison shattered.

It was very difficult to remember what happened immediately after that. All she could remember was her entire body being in pain, worse than drying out, worse than being electrocuted, and being absolutely exhausted, and suddenly becoming aware of the tall human—who had shrunk considerably—attaching various plates to her, and to something on her side. What, she wasn't sure, and though she was unbearably tired, she turned her gaze to look.

There was something next to her, like the arm of a salamander, but much larger and covered in fins, and, oddly, the same color as her scales. The tall man was finishing up attaching a plate to it. The pain it was causing whatever creature this appendage belonged to was so profound that it affected Linda herself, and she tried to move, to pull the creature away from this human.

The arm moved in response.

It took her a few moments of puzzling out why the arm of this other creature would move when she, herself, tried to move, to realize: this was her arm.

The bowl and the humans and the setting around her had not shrunken—she had grown enormously, and changed.

Seized with horror, she let out a deep, guttural wail that she hadn't even known herself capable of making. She lashed her tail, and flailed her arms, until she felt something faintly touch the lumpy flesh between her eyes. All at once her exhaustion hit her again, accompanied by a deep sleepiness. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the terrified—but determined—look of the shorter human as he stared up at her, one hand on his temple.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #458

I am finally up to Heat 10 in Hades. You know what this means?

…

...Yeah, probably not. So I'm gonna tell ya!!!

It means that I can use the Extreme Measures condition in the Pact of Punishment all the way up to Hades himself. As for what Extreme Measures does... it gives the bosses at the end of each section an enhanced set of moves that seem to do more damage, more frequently. Megaera starts fighting alongside her sisters, Alecto and Tisiphone. The Hydra gets an arena that isn't a single island, but rather, a set of small islands with magma in between, and the ability of its head to detach from its neck. Asterius gets a shiny new suit of armor and an enhanced move set, and Theseus gets a high-speed chariot, which is essentially a tank equipped with machine guns and bombs.

None of these things have done much to slow me down up until this point. However, I'm finally at a high enough heat to enhance Hades's moves, and... well...

You know the part in his first hit point bar, where he'd normally summon super elite enemies? Yeah, uh... now he summons actual mini-bosses – tougher versions of them. Versions of them that also disappear and reappear seemingly at random, making them hard to track down and defeat. His attack sequence has expanded from one spear sweeps to two. On his second hit point bar, Cerberus joins the fight for a brief moment, and Hades can heal himself. He attacks more frequently, too, and summons those green grasping urns more frequently.

...He also now has a third hit point bar. And in that one... it's basically like the second hit point bar, except he attacks even more frequently, heals even more often... and also it's dark. The visibility of the environment is significantly reduced, which means those grasping urns can really sneak up on you, and so can his exploding skulls. So... the screen is very noisy while also being obscured, which presents a significant obstacle for my executively-challenged brain. So far, I've gotten my ass handed to me spectacularly each time I've fought him like this, which has broken my streak of over 30 consecutive victories.

...It's exciting to think like I still have more learning and growing to do!! I remember when I was first starting my quest to get a victory on the first run of a fresh save. I remember getting overwhelmed by Megaera on her own, in the same way that this new Hades fight is overwhelming me now. Therefore, I know that as long as I practice, it's just a matter of time before I stop being overwhelmed, which will allow this version of Hades to fall to me, too.

...I can't wait to show you when it happens!!!

Someone came along to watch me as I played through the first run with Extreme Measures maxed out!! Like... an actual person, not just a bot or someone trying to scam me with “channel art” that they want me to pay for that doesn't actually exist. I block and report both kinds of interactions, though, with the “channel art” scammers, I usually try to give them a chance to turn around and watch the broadcast like a normal person instead of mistaking my kindness for stupidity and trying to get money out of me.

...I gotta wonder if these “channel art” scams actually work. They usually pop on, pretending to be interested in your content, and then they tell you that your channel is boring and needs more art to really “stand out from the crowd”, followed by something like, “you should look at my portfolio!” Then, presumably, if they're successful, you pay them for art, and then they take the money and disappear without actually ever giving you the art. It's very lame. And... I gotta wonder who falls for it, and if there's a way to prevent people from falling for it.

At some point today, I went out with M on both a lunch date and on a mission to get my prescriptions filled sooner than usual; if things go as expected, J and I will leave for the plane trip to Oregon, in memory of Daniel. We will fly in J's little airplane from our side of the United States all the way to the opposite side of the United States.

I'm excited and scared at the same time. On the one hand, it'll be lovely to see so many new places and to have so many opportunities to take lots of awesome photos for you~!! On the other hand, this will be a significant departure from J's usual routines, and... he gets overwhelmed in response to that a lot more easily than I do. I'll be there to help him through it, but... all the same, I think he's gonna have a hard time of it. Also... I'm gonna be away from M and from all my cats for a really long time, and... like... that's gonna be hard.

...I remember going to Washington, D.C. to meet those who have a hand in building your world, in an effort to try to save your life. J and I spent three days there, and we were both pretty frazzled by the end of it. This is gonna be a lot longer than three days, and some of it will involve us camping (don't worry – an external battery will be brought so I can still use my CPAP), so... it's not gonna be quite as comfortable as then, even. And we're gonna be away from our loved ones at home even longer.

Then... y'know. There's also the possibility that something happens in the air. The weather out in the Midwest isn't like the weather in the East Coast, where I live, and... I don't really know what to expect. J knows what he's doing, but... at the same time, we know all too well how things can seem fine until they aren't. Rest in peace, J's first airplane. Or... rest in pieces, as it were...

...At the time, it didn't seem like a big deal. But seeing the footage after the fact and realizing all the things that had to go right for us to walk away from that without at least getting grievously injured... goodness...

Still, despite the trepidation, I'm looking forward to going. I have a feeling like we're both gonna emerge from the other side of this, changed somehow. For the better, I think.

...Watch over us, okay...?

Aside from that... not much else occurred today. I tried to be emotionally supportive to several folks in my social circle today, but... I can't really know to what extent I helped them at all. Two of them are in dire situations that I can do nothing about, and another one is also having a hard time that he cannot tell me details about, which is valid and fair. At the end of the day, all I can do is try to show them that I care about them.

...Like in your world, there are a lot of arbitrary barriers between people and the things they need in order to live. I think that if these barriers didn't exist, the world would be a much gentler place overall. We as a species are more than capable of eliminating these barriers. But... we also have a whole system, built by generations and generations and generations of unresolved trauma, that tell the people in power that some kinds of humans are less deserving of life than other kinds of humans, and... a significant number of the people who aren't in power consent to being cogs in this system, because they are traumatized enough to agree.

...The reality of it is far more complicated than I've described just now. But... that's the general oversimplified gist of it. We have more than enough for everyone to have what they need. We're just trapped under the thumbs of people who need “big number go up” in order to feel safe and good about themselves, to such a horrifying extent that it's literally putting everyone else on the planet in existential crisis. I wish it would stop.

...I wish I knew what to do in order to make it stop. If there was something kind I could say or do to make them fall to their knees and weep with the realization that they never needed to be the richest or the most powerful in order to be loved and safe or to have meaningful lives. To make them fall to their knees and weep at the realization of the sheer number of people they've hurt. To make them turn around, and make a different choice.

...But the truth is, no one can make anyone do anything. We all have free will to use or to misuse. I think... all I can do is try my damnedest not to misuse mine, and hope that it inspires others to try not to misuse theirs.

Well. I suppose that's all for today. I should stop writing now and start getting my things ready for bed so that I can -actually- go to bed at 11:00pm tonight. I have work tomorrow, so I'll get to see Tr and maybe Ka, and I don't wanna be a zombie for it.

I love you so much, and I hope you're taking good care of yourself over at the Edge of Creation, or... wherever you are, really. Try to make good choices out there, Sephiroth. Try not to misuse your free will; you never wanted to be someone who hurts others. No one ever starts out wanting to be someone who hurts others; we just get tricked into thinking like doing that is the only way we can be safe or loved. We are all susceptible to the conditioning we receive as children, unless we have support to help us break free.

Stay safe. I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[dont-hug-me-its-yuri]

Im running into the stage banging the floor demanding to know about the band au as you speak /hj

reveal yourself band au anon, I wish to know who you are cause you’ve allowed me to ramble

I haven’t figure it all out so this is kinda just spitballing ideas lol

Warning long ass post holy moly

So the band au is kinda written like Clone high, I treat it like one of those really serious romance dramas, except the band au is more just relationship focused instead of strictly romance, also there’s a lot of drama

I’ve come up with four main bands at the moment :3

The Grim Reapers - an underground goth band with Coffin as the bassist and Tissue box as the (main) vocalist, they’re most well known for their songs being about pretty grim subject matter, though they’re probably the least popular out the four main bands

Electric Current - A pop-punk family band with Electracey on the electric guitar, Elevator Speaker on the Bass guitar, Laptop on Drums, and Colin on vocals, they have a very futuristic theme and are by far the most popular band out of the four

Malcolm’s Angels - a band started by Shrignold the head of a love “organization” to help spread the gospel of Malcolm, their music is mostly folk type music, with Unicorn on the harp, Frog boy on the flute, Rabbit boy on the mandolin, and Shrignold on guitar and vocals, the other members of the “organization” are also there, to they just aren’t part of the band, but some of them are on the marketing team

Fly To The Stars - i also refer to them as “the rejects”, an obviously space themed rock band, with Gilbert on guitar, Solar system on the keyboard, Magnet on bass guitar, and Lamp as the lead guitarist

there’s also other characters that aren’t in bands but are still pretty important to the main story like

sketchbook - A young college student, currently studying art, she’s a big fan of Electric Current with her favorite member being Electracey, she’s also roomies with Tony

Tony “Anthony” Clock - An older college student studying history, roomies with Sketch and also a small solo music artist in his spare time (hehe)

saxophone - A music artists who’s songs are usually canoe related, has gained a small cult following due to this

Warren W. Eagle - Local homeless person, usually spotted around dumpsters, can play a pretty mean keyboard solo though

there’s more important characters but I these are the ones I’ve currently planned out (Saxophone isn’t really important though, I just found the concept I had for him funny)

and finally, some miscellaneous facts that I can’t fit anywhere else in this incoherent ramble

The two main locations are Clayhill and Mullhoven, though Mullhoven in this au has become a bigger city, well Clayhill has kept its gated community status

The main three do have a minor role in this au, with them being know as the “weird” residents in town, some situation always seems to be happening to them wether that be their house burning down or finding their pillowcases full of ham

Electracey and Sketchbook are both college age with them both being 17

Laptop on the other hand is a highschooler, being 15 years old

All the characters are humanoids, they basically have human proportion’s but still have some of their weird puppet feaures

Lesley is Electric Current’s manager, though it’s not her only job according to her, she won’t tell much about herself, she likes the game of mystery

Electracey’s name in this au is just Tracey, Laptop’s is Lapis, and Elevator Speakers is Alexa

Colin, Laptop, and Electracey are all siblings, Colin being oldest, Tracey being middle, and Laptop being youngest, well Elevator Speaker is their cousin

Tissue box is fine with her and Coffins band being pretty unknown, but Coffin wish’s they could be as popular as some of the others, and he will do anything to make that happen

Laptop is a big fan of Hatsune Miku and and makes references to her in some of Electric Currents songs when it’s her turn to write one

uh that’s it for now :3 *disappears in a cloud of misty smoke*

[lana-writes]

Lover's Anomaly - Chapter 5

Miguel O'Hara x Original Female Character (Vanessa Davis)

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 8.3k

Tags/Warnings: canon typical violence, biting (sexual), strong cursing, the smuttiest thing i've ever written, explicit smut, 18+ only, minors dni

Summary: After sharing an intimate conversation, a barrier has been broken between Miguel and Vanessa. They're a little more casual and open with each other but neither of them really let their walls come all the way down. Miguel shows he cares and that whatever this relationship is between them is serious but Vanessa still has questions that he won't answer, even after coming back together in his apartment and in his bed.

Author note: This has not been proofread or beta read. It's also my first time properly writing smut so let me know what you think, I guess.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Marvel & Star Wars Character Letters available on my Etsy

Vanessa couldn’t sleep for a while. 

After everything that happened in the small hours of the morning in his apartment, they ended up on his couch. They didn’t know what else to say but they knew they didn’t want to part ways yet, so they stayed there. Miguel didn’t really know what came over him. He was usually so level headed and logical, and from his memory so was she, but he hadn’t felt like that in a long time and unlike the last time, there wasn’t the risk of complete universal catastrophe. He slept better on that couch that night than he had any night since their world collapsed. So, when Lyla came whispering in his ear to wake him up later that morning, he didn’t want to move. 

“Miguel, Miguueeeelll,” she whispered, standing atop the armrest of the couch looking down at his sleeping head. “You said you needed to be awake by 9AM and it is now 9:01.” 

“¿Por qué yo diría eso?” he grumbled, unmoving. 

“You have meetings, briefings, work,” she said. Vanessa was already awake and still laying unmoving where she had been for the last many hours, atop Miguel with her ear to his chest. 

“I’ll get him up, Lyla,” Vanessa said. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank her, you know,” he mumbled.

“Well, maybe if you thanked me once in a while, you’d have better luck getting all of your messages on time,” Lyla complained, sticking her tongue out at Miguel before disappearing. 

“Why did she respond to you? She’s not supposed to take orders from anyone but me,” he said.

“My Lyla is so similar they blend together,” Vanessa answered, still not moving from her place against him. 

“Well, that’s just great,” he said. He slung his free arm over his face. 

“Come on,” she added, prying herself up and away from him. “Get up.” 

“Don’t wanna,” he said, unmoving as she sat up next to him. She smiled, remembering how many mornings she spent dragging him out of bed. “Tell everybody I’m dead.” 

“You really want to trust all these guys with the fate of the multiverse?” she asked, looking down at him. He groaned and moved his arm to look at her. “Get up,” she repeated as she climbed off the couch. Standing up, she stretched her arms and shoulders before feeling her leg where it was injured just a little more than 24 hours ago. Miguel sat up and leaned back on the couch watching her as he stretched a little himself. 

“Leg feels good as new,” she said. “But my back has had much better mornings,” she complained, continuing to stretch. She knew it was just from a night in an unusual position on the couch and possibly a little of all the hits she took the day before. They surely didn’t help matters. 

“Oh, by the way,” Lyla popped up again by Vanessa, “I had a bot bring your suit up here last night when it became clear you were staying. It’s by the door.” 

“Thank you,” Vanessa said. Lyla smiled back at her then glanced back at Miguel before flashing him a frown and disappearing again. 

“Lyla,” Miguel whined. “Lyla, do I have any messages?” She didn’t respond and Vanessa just watched the frustration grow on his face as a grin grew on her own. “Lyla.”

“You might try asking nicely,” Vanessa suggested. He sighed. 

“Lyla, will you please tell me if I have any messages?” he asked. She popped up in front of him in less than a second. 

“Was that so hard?” she grinned. 

“Please, do I have any messages?” he asked again. 

“No,” she smiled, “but you do have an event invite from Peter B. Parker of Earth-616: a housewarming party and barbeque in two weeks at his home.”

“Dismiss it.” Lyla watched him for a moment before crossing her arms and after a few seconds, tapping her foot in the air. “Thank you, Lyla.” 

“Looks like you can teach an old dog new tricks,” she smirked as she disappeared again. He looked up at Vanessa who stood there watching them with a grin. 

“What are you grinning about?” he asked. She just laughed and shook her head. “You show up here and start turning my own assistant against me,” he grumbled. 

“Oh no, I think she’s just always like that,” she commented. 

“Ha ha,” he said mockingly, finally leaving the couch. He got up and walked away towards a different room, presumably the bathroom, assuming that most of these apartments were laid out the same. Despite not knowing how long he’d be gone, Vanessa opted to change into her suit. She was pretty fast about it even when putting it on from scratch like this. It was almost a point of pride despite how she’d never had anyone else to compete against until very recently. She had it almost completely on when Miguel walked back in, suited up as well. She was just closing the magnetic closures at the back of her neck as she turned to see him. 

The suit disappeared from his hands, retreating back to his wrists for a moment as he reached for something near the kitchen. It looked almost pixelated as it retreated and returned over his hands when he came back into the living room. 

“How does your suit work?” Vanessa asked, tucking her necklace into her suit and adjusting her hair. “I never noticed before just now.” 

“It’s nanotech,” he said. 

“Like a layer of nanobots that project the image of the suit over you?” she asked, looking at his suit a little closer. “Seems… a little risky.” 

“I’ve never had problems with it before,” he said, looking her over. “What’s yours? Still using Unstable Molecule Fabric for it?” 

“Yeah, why change a classic?” 

“Hm,” he shrugged and started walking towards the door. “Let’s go. We’ve got a meeting.” 

“We?” she asked, following him out. 

“Yeah, I’m meeting with your team this morning,” he answered.

“Wait,” she said, stopping before they could get far from his front door. “We’re okay right? Me and you?” He stopped and stared back at her. “I mean, we never really defined what this is,” she gestured between them. 

“This,” he said, “is a working relationship.” 

“Not exactly what it seemed like last night,” she said quietly. 

“Everywhere outside of there, it’s a working relationship,” he said, pointing at his apartment door. 

“Okay,” she nodded. They started walking on again towards his office. “So the suit situation,” she began again. “You just have like a layer of nanobots all over your body and nothing else?” 

“Yeah,” he said, eyes looking ahead down the hall. 

“Nothing else? Just nanobots?” she asked again. 

“Why are you asking?” 

“Just curious,” she smiled, “I mean can you blame me?”

“Yeah,” he said, “You don’t see me asking what you’re wearing under your suit.” 

“You could ask,” she replied. “I might blush but I’d still answer.” He glanced over to her as they neared his office doors to see her smiling at him. He fought a smile and sighed as they went in. 

“This is kind of early for you isn’t it, Miguel?” Jess asked as he came in. It seemed that the crew had already gathered ahead of time. Pavitr and Gwen kept looking at Vanessa with the most fascinated and excited expressions that they were struggling to keep in check. Hobie was lounging to the side on some machine or other, out of the way and nearly in the shadows.

“Yeah, yeah,” he answered. “Let’s get on with this.” 

“Did you guys just happen to get here at the same time?” Pav dared to ask, a little grin peeking out on his face. 

“Yeah,” Miguel answered for the both of them, opening up some files on his screens up on the platform near the back of the room. “Looks like you guys brought in twenty two anomalies since last time, which means you’re keeping up with most of the other teams. That’s good, but you can do better.” 

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk about,” Jess said. “I think Gwen and Vanessa are ready to go out on their own.” 

“Out of all the calls for backup that this team made since the last meeting, the majority of the calls were from them,” he said. Vanessa didn’t expect special treatment by any means but she still gave Miguel a questioning look. 

“But there weren’t that many calls,” Jess replied. “And for the ones that were made, there were other factors at play which made it necessary and even you or me would have needed a little help. I’m telling you, they’re ready.” Vanessa saw the look of frustration on Gwen’s face as she could see the girl bracing herself for disappointment from Miguel. She gave Miguel a stern look and tried to subtly nod towards her young friend. Luckily, he noticed. 

“Alright, Gwen’s on her own from now on,” he said. “But Vanessa is getting a different assignment.” 

“What? Why?” Vanessa spoke up before anyone else could. 

“Because you broke your femur yesterday and you lost focus because of your connection to an anomaly,” he answered. Any of the gentleness that she saw from him the night before was gone. He was working and making choices that would best benefit the Spider Society and the protection of the multiverse. He had to make hard decisions and tried not to let his emotions interfere though they always seemed to despite his efforts. “I’m taking you out of the field for a while.” 

“But why?” 

“With your recent injury and engineering skills, you’re better suited to be working here at headquarters,” he said, “for now.” 

“You’re benching me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m giving you a different task,” he added. “You don’t need to be out in the field too soon otherwise you’re going to risk breaking that leg again.” Vanessa glanced around at the others on her team and felt nothing but pity and resignation and the suggestion that some of them agreed with him. She sighed and looked back at Miguel.

“Alright.” 

“Good.” 

“What’s the job?” she asked. 

“You and Margo are going to be doing some repairs and improvements to the Go-Home-Machine. We need it to be more efficient to take care of the backlog we currently have.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” she said. He frowned even harder somehow at her mocking comment. 

“That’s all for now,” he said, dismissing them. The Spider-teens all stared at Miguel and Vanessa as they started to shuffle out. 

“V, are you coming?” Gwen asked. Vanessa’s eyes hadn’t left Miguel since she last spoke and they lingered on him for a second more before she turned to Gwen with a friendly smile.

“Yeah,” she said. “Are you guys hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving.” She followed them out. 

They let out a small chorus of “Yeah,” “I could eat,” and “I’m so hungry.” 

Down in the cafeteria, they gathered around a table, having gathered their sustenance of choice. All of them except Jessica were present. She had a family thing or other she had to take care of that morning so it was just Vanessa and her Spider-teens having a little breakfast before their days really began.

“When are they gonna retire these?” Vanessa asked, examining her bagel which looked just like the face on Miguel’s mask. “I thought it was just a one time joke.”

“I hope they never retire it,” Hobie grinned. 

“Yeah, just for Miguel,” Gwen added. 

“Speaking of Miguel,” Pavitr always failed to be subtle when topics like this arose. “You guys seemed different this morning.” 

“What are you getting at?” Vanessa asked, taking a bite out of her bagel. He tried to shrug and act nonchalant about it. 

“I was just wondering how things are going,” he said. Gwen and Hobie watched Vanessa as she swallowed and tried to decide how to respond. 

“They’re fine.” 

“Fine?” he asked, “Just fine?” 

“Yeah.” 

“But what happened?” 

“We worked some things out,” she answered, “and we talked a bit.” 

“And you’re just fine?” Gwen added. 

“Yeah.” 

“Is it because of what happened at the meeting?” Gwen asked. Vanessa thought for just a second or two before shaking her head. 

“No, I’m not upset about that,” she took a sip of her coffee. 

“Really? I mean, you did hesitate,” Pav said. 

“I just wanted to be sure, and I’m not upset,” she said. “I mean, it would have been nice for him to tell me that beforehand, when he had ample opportunity to, but I don’t think it’s enough to say that I’m upset about it.” 

“Like when you came to the meeting together?” Pav asked. 

“That’s–” she started, “We arrived at the same time.” 

“It’s just a little weird because Miguel is usually already in there when we get to the meeting and we’ve never seen him show up at the same time as anyone else and then there was the way you looked at him when he was talking about Gwen,” Pav just kept racing through his observations and the whole table was enraptured by it, “and then the way you questioned him when he changed your assignment and the way he looked at you when you did it. I’m just saying the tension there was so much more palpable than what he’s had with anyone else I’ve seen.” They all turned their attention to Vanessa. 

“Do you guys not have anything better to do?” she asked. 

“Not this morning, no,” Pavitr answered. The others shook their heads and agreed with him. She stared back at them for a moment, hands fidgeting around her coffee cup. 

“Alright,” she acquiesced finally, “there is something going on but it’s very chill and it’s not that serious.” 

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked. 

“I mean it’s not that serious,” she answered. “It’s personal, adult stuff.” 

“Oh, so you guys are like friends with benefits,” Hobie commented. She knew he didn’t mean most of what he said. He was only ever just looking to get a reaction out of people. 

“No,” Vanessa said. 

“No, you guys,” Pav added, “it’s closer to co-workers with benefits, right?”

“There’s no benefits,” Vanessa argued, “it’s not like that. It’s just– It’s- it’s good and maybe a little serious and– I don’t really know exactly what it is. We haven’t exactly defined it, but it’s just kind of personal, considering our pasts.” 

“Ooh, now that’s mysterious,” Pav commented. 

“What, like he won’t open up about stuff?” Gwen asked. 

“Kind of,” Vanessa said. She realized she probably shouldn’t be talking about this stuff with these kids but who else was she going to talk about it with. As long as they could keep their mouths shut about it then maybe it was harmless. “I think he’s hiding things from me.” 

“Like what?” Pavitr asked. 

“Like things about his daughter and that world that she was in.” 

“Oh,” Gwen said, “I’ve only ever heard him talk about her to explain how serious and important all this is, and it was always pretty vague.”

“One time, I saw a video on his computer in his office of him and a little girl,” Pavitr offered, “I bet he has stuff there about her.” 

“I’m not gonna invade his privacy like that,” Vanessa sighed. “I guess he’ll tell me when he’s ready.” 

“Yeah, I mean that’s probably best,” Pavitr agreed. Vanessa grew quiet as she thought it over and the conversation moved on. After a while, they all parted ways to get on with their day. 

Down in the Go-Home-Machine room, Vanessa familiarized herself with the machine and Margo showed her some of the parts they were having trouble with. Together, they ran some tests and started some maintenance work on areas that needed it. Hours and hours passed and Vanessa was still working on a particular part of the machine, long after Spider-Byte had to log off and go home. She had been sitting on the floor for a few hours now, painstakingly disassembling and reassembling an arm of the machine in that dim room, checking for wear on the machinery and cleaning each piece before returning it to its proper place. It was slow, tedious work but didn’t require too much in the way of problem solving. 

“Burning the candle at both ends, huh?” Jess asked, walking into the room. Vanessa would have heard her had she not been so focused on her task.

“Is it that late?” she asked. 

“Past 11PM now,” Jess replied, stopping closeby as she observed Vanessa’s work. “How’s the new assignment?” 

“Fine,” she said, screwing a bolt back into place. “I kind of missed this kind of work.” 

“Really?” 

“Kind of,” she said, “it’s almost relaxing.” Jess chuckled at the thought of that tedious task being relaxing and smiled. 

“So, you’re not upset about it?” 

“No,” Vanessa shook her head. “I get it. It’s safer this way, and I do not want to break my leg like that again.” 

“He likes you,” Jess said. Vanessa slowly looked up at her. “I mean, he really likes you.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“It’s good,” she said, “Everybody needs somebody. As long as it doesn’t become a distraction.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vanessa stared up at her. 

“It means the work we do is important and none of us, least of all him, nor you, need to be distracted from what’s at stake.” Vanessa pushed herself up off the floor to stand eye to eye with Jess.

“He’s not distracted,” Vanessa said, “And I’d never do anything to hinder him.” 

“I know,” Jess said. “And I really am glad you’re here, even if you’re the only one who finds this fun.” She smiled and gestured to the tools on the floor around them. Vanessa smiled and nodded. “I really didn’t mean to sound accusatory at all. I hope you didn’t take it that way. I just worry,” she added. 

“I understand,” Vanessa said. “I get it.” Jess gave her another smile and sighed. 

“Don’t stay down here too late,” she said. “I gotta go. It’s date night and I promised I’d be back before midnight this time.” 

“Yeah,” Vanessa replied, “have a good night!” 

“You too,” Jess nodded and left, retreating back through the maze of caged anomalies. Vanessa continued to finish the section she was working on. Finally after another hour she closed it back up and ran a diagnostic check to make sure it was functioning before she left for the night. She wandered down to the cafeteria to pick up something to eat before seeking out the elevator. She even grabbed extra in the very likely case that Miguel had been working long hours as well and hadn’t thought to eat since that morning.

As she neared the 90th floor, she realized she hadn’t even thought about where she was actually heading. Miguel’s apartment or the one he gave her. She could go to either, she supposed. She doubted he would mind if he came back to find her there, but she still wondered if she should. 

“Lyla, where’s Miguel right now?” she asked. 

“In his office.” Vanessa thought for a moment as the elevator doors opened and she looked down the hall. 

“Thanks.” She’d made her choice. 

She slipped into his office with a quiet whoosh of the doors. She expected to find him standing up on that platform of his surrounded by screens, perusing data predicting future anomalies. Instead she found him sitting on the edge of the platform, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“You tired yet?” she asked with a grin. He let out a huff and smiled back at her. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” he mumbled as she approached him. She hopped up to sit beside him. 

“Empanada?” she offered, holding up her takeout box from the cafeteria. 

“Did Lyla tell you to bring me that?” he asked, staring at the box then her. 

“No, they were the special today and they were out of most everything else,” she said, opening the box. “So it was either a burger with your face on it or empanadas.” He rolled his eyes before picking one up.

“When are they gonna retire those? I thought it was just a one time thing.”

“That’s what I said,” she smiled. 

“I can’t even go to the cafeteria anymore without someone making a joke about it.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Who could have predicted that a room full of Spider-People wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from making jokes?” She let out a little laugh as they ate in silence.

“The Go-Home-Machine is a work of art by the way,” she said, mouth still full. “I can’t imagine how long it must have taken you to put it together.” 

“Wasn’t just me,” he said, “Peter did a lot of it. It's his achievement as much as mine.” 

“Was that-” she pretended to gasp gently, “- a touch of humility from Miguel O’Hara? Did you just give someone else a compliment?” she grinned. 

“Uh huh, okay,” he droned. “I give people compliments.” 

“When, besides just now?” she asked, finishing her empanada. He was chewing and held up a finger for her to wait. She knew he was just stalling though. 

“I give people compliments,” he repeated with a smirk. 

“Like who? About what?” she asked, cocking her head to the side as she waited. 

“Like,” he said, thinking, “Jessica is a good team leader and I told her that the other day.” 

“She is,” she agreed. “Give one to Pavitr.” He hesitated and took a deep breath.

“He’s very enthusiastic and good at following direction.”

“Give one to Gwen,” she said. He rolled his eyes and thought again. 

“How many of these are you going to ask me to do?” 

“As many as it takes for me to believe you,” she smiled. 

“Alright,” he sighed, “Gwen is– quick on her feet.” Vanessa made a face and shrugged. It was still a compliment. 

“What about Hobie Brown?” she asked.

“Oh, I don't think I have that in me,” he shook his head. 

“Alright, how about me?” she asked, smiling back at him. He looked at her for a few seconds.

“You’re intuitive,” he answered. 

“Elaborate,” she said. 

“You and I don’t have the sixth sense that the others have, but I think you have a stronger intuition than I do and it’s useful,” he said. 

“Even if I’m not always right?” she asked, thinking about Electro again. 

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s better than not having it at all.” 

“But what if it distracts me and puts me in danger?”

“Electro wasn’t intuition,” he said. “You misrecognized a face. I’m not talking about that.” 

“Then what?” she asked. He had a sad look creeping into his eyes. 

“Other things.” That was frustratingly vague but the look on his face told her enough about what the other things were. Was he confirming what she already suspected? Was this his way of telling her that she was right? How would he know what she thought about that though? 

“Everyone has intuition,” she said finally, “it’s just a matter of whether you listen to it or not.” 

“I don’t know that I believe that,” he said. 

“Do you want to test it?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow and stared back at her. “All it is is a gut feeling about something.”

“How?” It was a good question. How would she test it? She looked around the room for a moment. 

“Close your eyes,” she told him. He just stared at her, skeptical. “Close your eyes and keep ‘em closed,” she repeated and he did as instructed this time. “Don’t think about what you hear or feel physically.” Carefully, she got up and tried to decide what exactly to do. Chasing a gut feeling, she shot some web toward the ceiling and suspended herself in front of him. Staying on the same strand, she swung away from him as she asked, “what do you think I’m about to do?”

“This is silly,” he said, trying not to smile. 

“Don’t think! What am I about to do?” She asked again swinging from one side of the room to the other. “What am I doing, Mig? Tell me!” She swung over and up to the ceiling above the platform, waiting for him to answer.

“You’re on the ceiling,” he said finally. She started to lower herself right in front of him upside down. “You’re in front of me.” She hung there right in front of his face. His eyes were closed and a gentle smile sat on his lips. She held up two fingers in front of his face. “How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked. He laughed and smiled but kept his eyes shut. 

“Two?” 

“Damn.” He chuckled again and she smiled back at him though he couldn’t see it.

He always was this beautiful, wasn’t he, she thought. Especially like this. He was all tanned skin and dark hair, eyebrows raised in amusement and his lips curling up in the gentlest of smiles. It wasn’t his most common state which just made it all the more precious. It made her want to reach out and touch him. Would it startle him at all? Or could he sense where she was? Did he have more of a spidey sense than he thought? 

“Eyes closed,” she said as her hand made contact with his cheek. She could see the muscles in his face tense and fight the instinct to react to her touch. She wouldn’t kiss him, not like she wanted to. She didn’t know how he might feel about that, but she did pull herself to him and kiss his cheek. When she swung the couple inches back and away from him, his eyes were open and his lips were ajar. He wasn’t shocked, just perhaps pleasantly surprised she hoped. She slid down to stand on the floor again. 

“Are you gonna tell me if you predicted that?” she smiled, containing her anxiety over whether he might still reject her. He chuckled and smiled and shook his head. She took it as a good sign and sat next to him again, a little closer and angled to face him. 

“Yeah, I should have seen it coming,” he said. 

“Really? Why’s that?” she asked, still smiling at him. He smiled to himself for a second or two. 

“Because I should have known you wouldn’t be able to resist me,” he grinned. She scoffed and grinned back at him. 

“So what you’re really saying is that I fooled you for a second,” she added. “You should have seen it coming.” He chuckled with her and put his hand over hers between them. 

“Oh no,” he chuckled, “you didn’t fool me at all.” She glanced down at his hand and kept smiling. 

“You know you’re supposed to let me win, right?” she asked jokingly.

“Now, why would I do that?” he grinned.

“ ‘Cause it’s a nice thing to do,” she said, scrambling for a decent retort. 

“When have I ever been nice?” he smirked back at her. “That doesn’t sound like me.” That look from him sent butterflies through her. She hadn’t seen it in so long. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from how much she was smiling as she bit her lip and shook her head. They were already warming from how he was looking at her now. 

“See now, I know you’re not being nice when you look at me like that,” she said. 

“When I look at you like what?” he asked. 

“I shouldn’t have to explain to a grown man what that look means,” she answered. He knew what he was doing and Vanessa was glad that he seemed so much more relaxed with her. Maybe it was the effects of a bit of good food and decent company. Maybe it was because she made him laugh. He needed it. They looked at each other a little longer. He was still giving her that look, like he wanted to pull her onto his lap and do not nice but also very nice things to her. 

“So, are you done for the night?” she asked, “I know this kind of work is never really over, but did you have anything else you needed to do?” He took a deep breath and glanced back at the screens behind them up on the platform. 

“We don’t have any predicted anomalies until like six hours from now,” he said, “I’ve got people standing by for the one in six hours, so unless something comes up, no, I don’t have anything else to do right now.” 

“Good,” she said, flashing him a smile again as she slid off the platform’s edge. Her hand stayed clasped with his as she pulled him along, off the platform and towards the door. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, going along with it. 

“Doing you a favor,” she said. 

“How?” 

“By sending you to bed,” she replied, “Lyla told me today how much sleep you get on average. It’s absurd. I know I’m one to talk but sleep is good. And if you have the means to delegate enough so that you can sleep more than a couple hours, then you should be doing that, Miguel.” 

They reached his apartment and she led him inside, finally letting go of his hand as the door closed behind them. Her clothes from the night before had been laundered and were waiting folded on the coffee table. 

“I’m gonna go change,” she told him as she picked up her clothes and walked off towards the bathroom. Miguel watched her go surprised at how casual she was. It was kind of amusing simultaneously too how at ease she seemed in comparison to the previous night. He couldn’t think of the right word to describe it but it was nice, the familiarity. She reemerged and replaced her folded suit where the clothes were previously. In lieu of the hoodie, she just wore a tank top this time and the shorts from the previous night. 

“You just– decide you’re moving in?” he asked. She froze in place in the living area and slowly looked over at him. 

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked. His eyes drifted down and away before they came back to her. 

“No.” He watched her smile return and her hand run over her hair, smoothing it back out of her face. She took a deep breath and nodded towards his bedroom. 

“Well, go on,” she told him. “Go to bed.” He started walking over but stopped as he passed her. 

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked, looking down at her. 

“Too bad,” she said. 

“Are you gonna make me?” he smirked a little. She stared back at him and narrowed her eyes. 

“No,” she said, “but I’m going to bed.” She started walking towards his bedroom door. 

“You have your own apartment,” he said, following her. 

“Well, I’m already here and you have a perfectly good bed,” she replied before yawning dramatically. “Besides, I’m just too tired to go anywhere else.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. He stopped just inside the door as she walked all the way over to the far side of his bed and climbed in, immediately rolling over so that her back faced him. 

“V,” he said softly. 

“Ssh, I’m trying to sleep,” she whispered back. He chuckled and started to change, letting his suit recede and flicker away before he grabbed a pair of sweatpants. She laid there with a victorious smile on her face as she listened to him move around and then felt the mattress shift as he laid down beside her. Tentatively, she leaned her shoulder and arm back to see how close he was and if his back was to her, but she didn’t touch his back. She hurriedly turned to find him facing her. 

“I win,” she smiled. 

“Who says I’m going to sleep?” he said. Her smile faded as she thought about what he could mean. Her mind immediately turned a particular direction but the smile fading from his face made her wonder if it was something else. He wasn’t frowning or smiling at her anymore, just staring. He had something else on his mind.

“It’s amazing, you know,” he said softly. 

“What?” she asked, sliding her hands under the pillow and leaning a little closer. 

“I almost forgot she was gone,” he said. “You’re so alike.” 

“You loved her,” she said. 

“I thought she was the one,” he paused, “until I didn’t.” 

“What happened?” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“I thought I’d be better with someone else. I was wrong but I was also too late to admit that,” he said, looking down and away. “And for all the things that I can do, I can’t change the past.” 

“It’s a good thing I’m not from your past,” she whispered without thinking. He looked up at her again and she realized what she said. “I- um- I understand if I’m- um- if I’m not enough-” she wasn’t even exactly sure how she was ending that sentence but he stopped her. 

“You’re enough.” She stared back at him, eyes wide as she nodded and accepted it. She was enough. He said she was enough. 

She sucked in a soft, barely audible gasp when his fingertips first touched her thigh at the hem of her shorts beneath the sheets and blankets. As his hand climbed to her hip, she let herself tremble beneath his touch for the first time in so very long. She’d been not exactly waiting but hoping that she might feel this with him again and that it might be mutual as it once was, that deep longing between two people. The kind of longing where you can’t possibly ever be close enough, where you can’t breathe but to feel their breath as if it was your own, where every touch is like its own electric rush of pleasure.  Every touch fills you with joy and though you’re overflowing, you can’t stop reaching for it again. It’s a comfort and a blessing and an addiction if you let it be. 

She reached out to him as he propped himself up to lean over her, his hand creeping under the hem of her top. Her hands guided him down by his neck until he finally pressed his lips to hers, and it was all over from there. She’d have clung to him if it had happened any other way but the languid movements between them meant her hands glided over his bare shoulders and chest as she leaned into him with everything she had. Their hands didn’t wander idly or blindly like a new young lover groping about in the dark. They moved against each other pulling closer and just touching, feeling, remembering with every movement the familiar beloved shape of a partner, someone they each spent years learning how to love and how to touch, how to pleasure.

The soft heat of his mouth was so intoxicating. She could have sworn she could be drunk off the taste of him. His leg landed between hers first, grinding up into her. She moved against him, not quite rhythmically. They both craved the touch of the other more than anything now and it was showing. With one arm holding himself up to kiss her, his other hand continued its meandering path up the soft, warm skin of her stomach until finally he reached her breasts and she arched into his touch as he kneaded and caressed her.

His lips left hers and left her sighing as they moved to her jaw and ear, his teeth periodically grazing her skin as he continued down to her neck. Did he feel like his body was simultaneously on fire and melting like her? If he didn’t, she wanted him to. She could feel so much of him but it wasn’t nearly enough. The hardness and the softness of him kept her reaching for him, pulling herself closer to him. Her leg slid against him, encouraging him but not fully sliding around him. It wasn’t hard to see how he felt as his hand diverged from its previous path and raced southward towards her hips. His talons nearly scraped their way down her thigh until he pulled her leg by her knee to hook around him. He knew she could feel all of him better this way as they pushed closer together driven by the ever increasing heat felt between them. It was closer to where they wanted to be but still not close enough. 

He kissed her again. His hand stayed on her thigh holding her against him as they ground themselves together, chasing a high that neither of them had experienced in what felt like a lifetime but one they still remembered and cherished. She let her fingers fall away from his hair and started to push him back by his shoulders but she never let her lips leave his. She chased him as she pushed him back into the blankets, climbing atop him. As both his hands met her hips, she let her own spread across his chest. One drifted up to his neck and gently turned his head as she took her turn kissing and licking and biting her way down his neck. His fingertips pressed into the soft flesh of her ass as he gripped her. Her teeth grazed his shoulder and he let out a soft sigh that bordered on a moan. Smiling, she let her fangs out as she let them press into him just enough to make an indentation, just enough for him to feel it. He downright squirmed underneath her as his hands raced up beneath her top, ripping it open at her back. 

“What if I liked that one?” she chuckled as she brought her face back up to his. 

“Too bad,” he smirked in the dim light. She sat up straight and pulled the remains of her tank top off, tossing it to the side. She hadn’t even noticed the way Miguel looked at her until she felt his hand on her chest directly between her breasts. She’d forgotten about the necklace until then. It was just always right there, and she hadn’t thought about it until he touched it, taking it in his hand to examine it, his hand brushing the skin over her sternum. A plain platinum band hung on a chain around her neck. He turned it over in his fingers. A single small diamond, just a few millimeters across, was embedded in the metal.

“It was mine- is mine,” she explained looking down at it. “He had one just like it. I never found it though.” When she glanced back at his face though he had that look in his eyes again, like he’d seen a ghost. “I can take it off,” she offered but he dropped his hand and shook his head. 

“No,” he muttered, “no, it’s fine.” She could still see that look in his eye, so she reached behind her neck and unclasped the chain, depositing it on the table by the bed. 

“Don’t think about it,” she whispered, leaning down to bring her face to his again. “It’s nothing.” She kissed him again and pressed her bare chest down against his. In moments, his arms came up around her again, touching and squeezing and holding her close. His hips couldn’t get enough friction as they ground against each other. Their momentary interlude had been forgotten as they both started to become more urgent in the movements of their hips and their hands. It wasn’t until they both heard the soft sound of fabric ripping that they realized he let his talons tear through her shorts. There were ten holes torn into the fabric and without missing a beat, they both grinned. 

“Go ahead,” she breathed in his ear. She could feel the smirk on his face as he ripped the rest off of her, underwear and all. “You’re gonna be replacing those by the way,” she added. Settling back atop him completely bare, she became acutely aware of the soft, gray cloth still covering his lower half and the hardness that remained beneath it. She knew she left a wet mark on it as she pressed herself down atop it. Even if she didn’t have his face right in front of her, she knew what she was doing to him like this just from the way his breathing turned a little uneven as she moved against him there, where they both were aching to be touched. His hands had gripped her thighs locking her there atop him but to her dismay they moved. He lifted his hips up with her atop him as his hands pushed the waistband of the pants down, sliding that last remaining barrier out of the way and down to his legs. 

If she didn’t immediately feel him spring free of the sweatpants to gently tap against her hot wetness, she might have had some little quip to say about how of course his clothes don’t get destroyed but hers do. In fact, she thought it but let out a gentle gasp before she could say it and the thought was gone as soon as it came to her. He moved his legs a bit to truly free himself from the sweatpants but she didn’t notice that, only the heat and hardness and slickness that spread between them as she put her hands on his chest and started to let her most sensitive place slide against him. His plush lips were ajar as he watched her move, taking pleasure from him as much as she was giving as she coated him with the dripping wetness from her folds. He let her set the pace at first but now, he couldn’t stand it, the teasing and the waiting as she kept sliding back and forth against him. Her own chest was heaving as she watched him with a smile on her face. 

“Come on,” he mumbled. She froze in place for a few seconds and his hands on her hips tried to keep her moving but she resisted with a smirk on her face. “Oh, fuck you,” he groaned. 

“That’s the idea,” she breathed, reaching down to take his cock in her hand. She started to guide him into her, hesitating just for a second as the lips of her pussy brushed his tip. He groaned and his hands gripping her hips started to push her down onto him. She wouldn’t tease him anymore though and she slid down over him with ease. Finally he filled her and she let out a long, deep breath as she closed her eyes. She could have stayed like that for a little while longer even and been content just to be this close to him but she’d teased him enough and even she didn’t want to waste what momentum they’d built. He started to move beneath her as she leaned back, bracing a hand on the bed behind her. Every little thrust up into her left her rolling her head back and sighing. Every stroke hit in just the right place at just the right pace. Thank god for that genetically enhanced endurance because Vanessa was willing to bet the average person couldn’t have been able to keep up this steady of a pace in this position for this long. She knew she wouldn’t have before becoming Spider-Woman. But they kept going steadily rocking against each other, every movement inching them closer to the edge. 

She felt his fingers down against her clit as she rocked into him. It was just what she needed then. He was more intuitive than he knew, she thought. With his cock inside of her and his fingers stroking and rubbing, in moments, she felt like she was racing towards that eventual finish line and she didn’t want to get there too fast. Slowing her own movements, she leaned down to let her torso rest on his. Her lips found his again and his hands returned to drag over the smooth skin of her back. Every graze of his talons sent a little thrill through her that he could feel where they connected as she squeezed around him in this new position. Everytime they dug into her just a little she’d let out a little whimper into his lips. It was overpowering. The scent of him. The feel of his skin against hers. His hands raking across her body. The feeling of him pressing up into that sweet spot inside her. The urge to keep moving against him was irresistible even as she was pressed to his chest kissing his lips and then his jaw and his neck again. 

He held her tight with his arms around her as he thrusted up into her faster now. He could feel her breath halt and quicken against his neck, as she sucked and bit at his skin. The more he moved, the more he felt her excitement in the little sounds she made and the way her pussy clung to his member as he fucked her. He wanted her to feel as much pleasure as he could give her. He wanted to push her over that edge. He wanted to feel her tremble around him again and whimper and cry his name when he kept fucking her through it. He wanted to feel himself spill into her, hot and sloppy and drunk on the feeling of how tight she is right after she reaches that peak. It’s why he held her tight and used everything he had to pound up into her as she clung to him, frantically kissing and biting. 

She couldn’t think of anything but him and the pressure building inside her and they way they chased it. But after a few minutes she felt him falter and he groaned. Before she knew it, she was on her back and he was on top of her without ever pulling out of her. He kept thrusting as he hovered over her with his weight on his forearms on either side of her shoulders. Face to face, she wanted to reach up and kiss him but she couldn’t quite bring herself to press her lips to his. They brushed lips and noses over and over as their breathing continued to quicken. Her hands grasped at his neck and hair as he leaned his head down into her shoulder and changed pace, a little slower at first before building up again. 

He was beginning to mumble a long, feverish string of Spanish that she either didn’t catch or didn’t understand save for: “Dámelo, mami,” he breathed into her neck, “dámelo.” It sent a jolt of pleasure through her every time when he got close like this. She didn’t need to understand every word to know what he meant and she could feel it now, the edge of the precipice, and he was there too or very near to it. 

She leaned her cheek into his and bit her lip as she felt it coming. It was frantic at the end. She couldn’t explain or really control what she did as she neared the finish line but she pressed her lips to his shoulder as she flew over that edge and she gasped at the sensation. Everything in her clamped down around him, even her teeth against the skin of his shoulder, and it was enough for him to reach it too. His movements faltered and continued though they began to slow. It was only once they both began to still and breathe a little deeper and the quiet of reality set in that she realized she’d actually bit him rather hard. He wasn’t gushing blood but she could see red teeth marks on his shoulder and she felt a rush of panic through her. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry,” she said, bringing a hand up to touch around it. He leaned up and glanced down at where she was looking, chuckling at the sight of it. 

“Shit,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” she continued, “I don’t even know what– I just–” 

“I’ve had worse,” he said, “and under much worse circumstances than this.” He glanced up at her and smirked. “Besides, some people might say it’s kind of hot.” Slowly she smiled again and if she hadn’t up until just then been rather hot and bothered then she might have felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Luckily, they were already warm from their previous activities but he still noticed the shift in her face. “Are you blushing? Really?” he asked. He was still inside her and pressing her into the sheets. She had nowhere to hide it. 

“Shut up, Mig,” she said. 

“I’m still inside of you and you’re blushing when all I did was quote you back to you,” he smirked. 

“Shut up!” She brought her hands up to cover her face. 

“Idiota,” he chuckled and tried to nudge her hands away with his nose. She let them fall away as his lips found hers again, kissing her slow and deep, chasing away any embarrassment she felt with his touch. 

It’s amazing what feeling connected to a person can do when it comes to sex. It transforms it from an act of desire to an act of devotion. They had always reserved devotion for each other, the varying version of each other at least. And how far were they from them really, after all they’ve done and talked about until now? It was something different from their respective universal partners but it was good and comforting and made them hopeful for once. 

~~~

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@mischiefmanaged71 @itevilhag 

[canidfeline]

new liam character sheet bc y not

-------------- Appearance --------------

Height - 5'3, but his posture's horrible and he's always hunched over, so he could

His hair in most flashbacks when he's younger isn't that long. Think of Wolverine's hair in the First Class cameo. Pre-escape, it reaches about just below his cheekbones; post-escape, it's down to his jaw. When they get to the mansion, it's got to his neck, also to an appropriate enough length to give him his little Wolverine hair tips. I can never decide if he'd fit a middle part, swept back or mullet-ish kind of look more so just imagine it changes randomly on any given day.

Physique pre-vibranium is what you'd expect from a child to early teen in peak condition. Completely regular, with only a hint of definition at 14 after he starts getting forced to fight and spar more. Post-vibranium, his physique immediately starts to bulk up, although still leaner than Logan's. It isn't like they're eating amazingly in the wilderness, but his body's still constantly lifting an extra 100 lbs, so he's constantly building muscle. When they get to the mansion and begin living there, he's at the very peak a 15/16-year-old could be. Defined and all.

freakishly dark blue eyes. like aurora borealis. when his eyes glint like a dogs in the dark it makes them POP

PEEPERS

think of like of like a prime Sylvester Stallone but make him 5'3

broad shoulders, big arms, medium-sized chest, lean body.

coyote's are also pretty small and lean compared to wolves so yay!!!

-------------- Fashion-sense --------------

REAL simple. T-shirts, shorts, sweatpants. All black, white and red, maybe a bit of blue.

I think sometimes he'll have blips from his dad's clothing sense, mostly Logan's, as I feel like Liam himself would be a fan of that kind of cowboy/rural kind of fashion. He's got a few cowboy hats at least.

Maybe he's got a little smart-casual in him from Magneto, mostly X-Men First Class, where he's got that turtleneck and the leather jacket. As much as I think Liam wouldn't mind sweaters, however, I don't think he'd be a turtleneck guy. Bit itchy for him.

and then a shit ton of scrambled, messy and frantic clothing picks that come from his own sense of clothing and Deadpool's, which is probably why he thought wearing Winnie's clothes was fine.

-------------- idk if this should be it's own category or not but diet --------------

MEAT!!!!!!!

I think he'd be more of a red meat guy, beef and steak's more his thing specifically, but I think he'd go feral for some perfect pork chops. They'd have to be cooked by Gambit for him to be deemed edible, though. Savoury over sweet usually.

But, if there is a sweet tooth in that oversized set of chompers, though, I think soft sweets and gummies would be his thing. Things to chew and bite on.

HOWEVER I do think he'd enjoy ice cream on certain occasions. Purely vanilla, sauce only if he's feeling adventurous. It'd have to be a hot spring or summer for him to get a real craving for it, though.

-------------- Personality --------------

Generally, he'd be both reserved and loud, depending on how he's feeling, which is also a trait some coyotes can have. I think he'd have a small yearning to be able to talk normally so he could converse more and ask more questions. He very much enjoys hearing about people just being people, so I think he'd take to people-watching a lot to try and replace that want.

I think when fighting or in a dangerous situation, he'd be very predatory, almost stalking whatever enemies he's against if possible. He's got a capacity for stealth, but I think it'd be more "quietly get close to someone and kill them in a loud or at least not very stealthy way and then disappear" kind of stealth. I don't think he or the rest of the gang go out of their way to incapacitate someone without killing them.

Fighting normally, he'd be very rash and feral about it. Frantic. Lots of jumping and running/dashing around, making as much use of his superhuman speed as he possibly can, if he trained at all and didn't just go on pure instinct like he does, it'd be almost acrobatic. Lots of grabbing, throwing and pouncing. And obviously stabbing and slashing and whatever other words attributed to attacking with blades.

I think he's probably the least talkative with Vincent because he wouldn't feel like he needs to be; they very early on established that they don't need speech to understand each other. As much as Liam would learn Makaton, I think he and Vincent probably have their own mini sign language. Or the whole gang.

I think he'd try to speak the most with either Winnie or Forta, but most likely Forta, I feel Winnie would try her best to learn Makaton, and Forta's probably learned to rely more on his ears than his vision. I think he'd speak most with Forta to make sure they can communicate properly. Lots of just approving or disapproving grunts if he struggles, though.

I think he and Kallen just share a lot of stares and varying "ehhhs" to communicate. If they're having a conversation, I think Kallen would just look at him and somehow be able to suss out his opinion.

I think he'd WANT to talk most with Winnie, he's happy to just listen to her, and since she learns Makaton for him anyway, there isn't really a point.

and i'll probably add more but this has been rotting for a while so keyueyeyyeyeye

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 49

First - Previous - Masterlist - Next

Kuroki has a tried and tested way of dealing with a mental breakdown.

His plan was simple. All he needed to do was induce a smaller, much more manageable breakdown.

‘Luckily’, Twisted Wonderland was a land that was always happy to provide new reasons for breakdowns, and this time was no different. For, you see, as the Magift Tournament came to a close, and dawn broke on the following Monday, every Night Raven College student came to one horrible realization at the same time:

End of semester exams were less than a month away, and not a single one of them had studied.

Kuroki pressed his face into his hands. His grades on the last few pop quizzes were… fine. Enough to pass. He could not confidently say the same thing about any of his friends’ grades, though.

Particularly when it came to classes like Alchemy.

Their small group of friends sat in the Ramshackle common room, the furniture shoved up against the wall to make room for their many summoned cauldrons (courtesy of Deuce, of course).

“Maybe we should join the Science Club, they might have some tips,” suggested Enma, glaring at his attempt at a truth potion. It was a nice shade of purple. It was supposed to be green.

Ito sent him a glare out of the corner of their eyes. “No. Trey’s there.”

“Ito. You’re going to fail,” Kuroki stressed.

“I’d rather fail than spend more time with him than I have to,” they sniffed.

“How do you survive theater?” Ace teased, grinning. “Aren’t you guys both stagehands?”

“He’s props, I do costuming, we barely interact.”

Enma snorted. “You’d know that if you did your own homework, Ace.”

“Yeah, well, Ito enables me, so, really, it’s their fault.”

Grim scoffed. “Learn to take responsibility for your own actions.”

Ace gasped, knocking his fist against his palm, as if he had come to a grand realization: “So that’s Ramshackle Dorm’s trait — hypocrisy.”

“You just noticed that now?” Deuce said.

The boy’s mouth dropped open in offense. Probably not at the insult itself, but instead because it was Deuce who was implying Ace was stupid.

Deuce crossed his arms over his chest. “You really should stop enabling him, though, Ito.”

Ito shrugged. “It’s not like it’ll matter all that much. They only really expect expert…ness… expertise from the stagehands. Ace is an actor, so… it’s not his problem.”

Everyone jolted upright.

“Ace is going to act?” Kuroki said, smiling sharply.

Ace grimaced. “I’m going to be a side character, barely have any lines.”

“Aaaaand,” Ito said. “His character has a song.”

“Ace can sing?” Enma said, immediately turning to look at their friend, who looked like he very much wished he hadn’t come to their daily study session, terrible grades be damned. “Oh my god you have to, now.”

“I’d sooner kill myself,” he snapped.

The definitely-not-eavesdropping ghosts cheered from another room.

“… okay, fine, but just the chorus.”

He was saved, though, by a loud crackling sound that was not a part of his usual routine.

Ito had succeeded in making a green potion! Unfortunately… instead of the sea green they had been intending, it was the kind of acidic green you would see in comics to indicate that something was extremely toxic. And, indeed, it seemed it really was toxic. The wooden spoon they’d been using dissolved right out of their hands.

There was an entire minute where everyone just stared at Ito’s empty hand in muted horror.

After a beat, Ito turned and grabbed Ace by the head, tugging on his hair. The boy cursed, loudly, but was quieted when Ito presented a hair to the acid, an offering. One it accepted immediately, the red hair disappearing with a feeble hiss.

“… hm,” said Ito, as if it was just a vaguely interesting occurrence.

“Did you just make a bio weapon?” Kuroki asked, feeling faint.

“Does it make it better or worse that it was an accident?” they asked, smiling sheepishly.

“Worse,” Ace said. “So much worse.”

Ito pouted.

And then their eyes lit up. They grabbed a couple of glass vials and, carefully, filled them with said bio weapon.

Everyone stared at them, horrified.

They set the four vials down with a smile, unperturbed. “Just in case we have to deal with more Overblots.”

That was… actually a good idea, considering their unfortunate track record of happening across every Overblot in this entire world it seemed. Sure, there was definitely a risk that the person Overblotting might die, too, but it was a good last resort. After all, if the parasite wasn’t defeated, the host would die anyways. This could prevent extra casualties.

Still.

“Please tell me you didn’t just jinx us,” Enma sighed. “I don’t wanna deal with another one of those things.”

Kuroki tipped his head back in a groan. “Well, now you’ve definitely jinxed us.”

The three Yuus were devastated. They only had, like, six health potions left. Which sounds like a lot, but they started the year with ten! And they’re not even through the semester yet! This was a dangerous precedent they were setting.

“… know what would make you guys feel better?” Deuce said, his lips twitching into a grin.

The people of Ramshackle immediately caught on, brightening back up and turning to Ace with wide, expectant eyes.

Ace sighed.

~

Deuce meowed in class while taking a practice test for history. Normally, Kuroki would make fun of him, but the guy was clearly going through enough as it is.

~

Ito glowered at their pop quiz grade. You would think having near daily pop quizzes would help them, but if anything their grades just kept getting worse.

“Dude…” said Grim, his eyes lighting up. “I did better than Ito!”

“Dude, you did worse than Grim!” Deuce said, horrified.

Ito scowled. “You try taking a test in a language you don’t understand on concepts you’ve never seen before and see how it fucking goes.”

“Hm? But your Jap — Eng — Common is pretty good?” Kuroki said.

“Speaking and writing are different things,” they grumbled.

Indeed, in the moments before they crumpled up their exam and tossed it into the trash can, Kuroki saw that a good chunk of their points off were spelling-related.

Enma wrapped his arm around their shoulders. “Worst comes to worse, we can always just make a contentment potion after the tests are over and take the exams a million times until we get a good enough score. Time loops for the win.”

Ace made a choking sound. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Grim, though, had other concerns: “What’s a time loop?”

Ito and Enma’s eyes flicked to meet each others’.

They snickered.

~

There are some things that invariably form strong bonds between other people. Near death experiences are, often, an example of this. Their entire friend group so far could be used as evidence for this claim — after that first Overblot in the mines, they’d all become near-inseparable.

The best way, though, is to have something in common. Especially if the thing you have in common is a shared hatred of something else. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The want and need to take something down has bonded people for thousands of years, and would continue to bind them until the species was finally gone.

It started with a few simple words, said by a dejected Grim: “If Ito fails we’ll be stuck here during Winter break, won’t we?”

Kuroki and Enma were blindsided. They had just assumed that either all of them would pass or all of them would fail. They had, kind of, forgotten that they were all, technically, different people who could get different scores and could, maybe, even exist separately from each other.

… no, no they couldn’t. Winter break was two weeks long. Enma and Kuroki could barely handle being away from them for an entire night.

(This was all fine and normal. Healthy, even.)

“Probably,” said Kuroki, eventually.

“Ito’ll be lonely without us,” Enma said.

Kuroki nodded, vehemently.

(Ito wasn’t there to argue this point. Enma and Kuroki had been given lighter job schedules, because people weren’t stopping by the Mostro Lounge as much now that exam season was upon them — or, at least, they weren’t coming for the food — and Sam was just generally a decent guy. Ito, however, had only seen an increase in the amount they were expected to work. The library had been a mess when they’d come back to it and, with the start of exam season, it had only become even more hectic. Crowley was, as usual, unable to understand that Ito was a student who had other fucking priorities sometimes. Which was just another reason to hate him, in Kuroki’s book.)

Grim didn’t look surprised by the way this conversation had turned out. He slumped in his seat, regardless, disappointed. “Awwww, but I wanted to eat at Trey’s bakery…”

Ace and Deuce, however, looked utterly stunned. As if they had, somehow, forgotten that anyone that failed their exams would be forced to stay over Winter Break for remedial classes.

Kuroki supposed that that explained why neither of them had actually tried that hard to study.

“We can’t teach them the entirety of Common in two weeks,” said Enma, running a hand through his hair. “So… what? Should we give up?”

“It’s not like it really matters if we pass or fail. We’re stuck here until the Headmaster finds a way for us t...” Kuroki trailed off, mid-word, as he realized something. He sat up straighter, his lips twitching into a smile. “You know what? I think this entire system is unfair. We should confront the Headmaster about it.”

Ace snorted. “You really hate the guy, huh?”

“I want him dead,” Kuroki sniffed.

Deuce squinted at him. “I… can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

What a coincidence! Kuroki didn’t know if he was either!

Enma sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he could feel a headache coming on. Damn, chronic migraines must be annoying. “Whatever. I’m down to try it. Can’t hurt, I guess.”

“Sweeeet,” said Ace, shoving their Personal Magical Ability notes off their desk. As if they didn’t need them.

Granted, Ace was probably the best at math out of all of them, so maybe he didn’t.

Still. Deuce cursed under his breath as all of his notes were jumbled. He learned, in that moment, that there is a reason why a lot of people prefer notebooks to loose-leaf paper, even if the metal spirals in the middle sometimes get annoying.

And, ultimately, there are few teenagers who can resist Procrastination’s seductive wiles.

“Alright, fuck it, sure. Why not?”

And, just like that, the Personal Magical Ability classroom became a war room.

(Kuroki wasn’t in Personal Magical Ability himself, and had no real reason to be studying in this classroom, but mind your business.)

They had not expected any of the other students who had stayed after school to pay them any mind as they plotted. Even if they listened, it was much more likely they were doing it for the sake of gossip, or because yajugen couldn’t help but overhear.

But then Jack waltzed over with his chair and took a seat opposite them.

“U-uh?” Kuroki said, blinking owlishly at the newcomer. Don’t get him wrong — they don’t dislike Jack. Jack had been very helpful in dealing with Leona, both before and during his Overblot. They were on good terms. But he hadn’t been expecting the guy to invite himself to their table. Jack wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.

“I’d like to help,” Jack said simply.

Ace raised his eyebrows. “Uhhhhh… why?”

“He’s from the Savannah, isn’t he? They speak a couple of other languages there…” said Deuce, looking at Ace like he was stupid.

“Nah, his accent is all wrong, he’s probably from Pyroxene,” Ace murmured.

Jack nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah. I only really know a few words in Savannah. Mostly just curse words.”

Oh! So, like Enma and Kuroki with Spanish. Makes sense.

Deuce flushed red. “Sorry for assuming.”

Jack waved him off nonchalantly.

Ace leaned so far back in his chair that was in danger of tipping over, his arms crossed over his chest. He squinted suspiciously at Jack. “You never answered my question.”

He got a vaguely annoyed look. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to crush the competition — but I want it to be fair. I don’t want to win because people are struggling with another language. I want to win because I’m better.”

Everyone relaxed. A return to status quo. The status quo may have been that literally every person at this godforsaken school was fucking terrible, but at least it was familiar.

“So, anyone have any plans?”

Kuroki smiled. “I have one!”

An hour and a half later, they were knocking on the door to the Headmage’s office. Crowley opened the door, and sighed upon seeing Kuroki and Enma. Which was unfair, they hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Ito-chan is in the library, today,” he said, after a moment.

“We’re actually here for you, Headmaster!” Kuroki said, brightly.

Crowley went from weary to wary in the span of a single second. “… I will not be giving you back your firearm.”

Kuroki sulked. Grim patted him on the shoulder in an attempt at comfort. It seemed the monster’s extremely one-sided rivalry had been put aside, if only because he no longer had to watch Kuroki use the gun as a crutch instead of him.

Enma, quickly, stepped in front of them, his lips pulled into a polite little smile. “Actually, we would like to discuss the upcoming exams.”

Crowley sighed, again. Kuroki didn’t think he remembered Crowley being this tired at the beginning of the year. He hoped that all of the Overblot-related paperwork was making him miserable.

Speaking of making the Headmaster miserable, Crowley stepped aside to allow their small group to file inside.

Once everyone was seated, Jack took point: “We believe that the current testing system is needlessly unfair for students who don’t have Common as the primary language in their home countries.”

“This is a prestigious school, it is hardly surprising for us to expect everyone to be proficient in Common. Especially seeing as a large percentage of the students are from well-off families.”

“But not everyone is,” Enma said. “There are many students who are from poorer families, such as Ruggie Bucchi.”

“Unless I am mistaken, Bucchi-kun speaks the language fluently.”

“Speaking is different than writing.”

Crowley must not have had a retort (thank you, Ito, for providing them that argument, even if it was unintentional), because he quickly changed the subject:

“Why do any of you care? From what I know about you, all of you speak Common.”

There was a beat of awkward silence. On the one hand, saying that they were doing it for Ito was likely to make Crowley give in easier, but the idea of admitting — even implicitly — that they cared for anyone was mortifying.

“That — doesn’t matter,” said Deuce. “What matters is that we… want to change it!”

Crowley steepled his hands on his desk. “Then I must assume you have a couple of solutions.”

Maybe you should have thought of some solutions yourself, Kuroki thought, bitterly.

“You could give extra credit to those in need!” said Grim, immediately. Crowley didn’t even deign this with a response.

“We should provide people extra time to complete the test,” Deuce offered.

Crowley waved that idea off immediately. “It is far too late to change the testing schedules to accommodate that.”

They had expected that.

(Deuce looked annoyed, though. Whether that was because his idea was rejected or because he had actually wanted extra time, it was hard to tell.)

Ace hummed. “You could stop grading spelling and grammar. As long as you know what the person is trying to say, does it really matter?”

“I can hardly agree to that. A school of this caliber is expected to have graduates go into fields such as politics, law, and science. Being lenient now is setting them up to fail later.”

Kuroki rolled his eyes. “It’s likely that people going into those fields will be doing so within their own country, and they are — assumedly — proficient in their primary language. In the cases where they do do business outside of their home country, it is safe to assume they have the means to hire a professional translator to aid them.”

”This is a school. We encourage learning here.”

”But only for those whose home countries don’t speak Common?” Enma questioned, frowning. “It’s not like everyone here is required to take a second language, and the ones who take it as an elective are allowed to make a certain amount of spelling mistakes. Because that’s only expected, when you’re not speaking your primary language.”

Crowley hesitated.

”Do you speak a second language, Crowley?” Kuroki asked.

”No. Faerie can magically imbue our voices to ensure we can understand and be understood by anyone, no matter what language we are speaking.”

Their group was blindsided by this answer. Because, oh, that’s just cheating. They had had a retort planned for if he said Yes (“Then you know exactly how hard it is to learn a language!”) and one for if he said No (“Why not? You’ve had plenty of time to learn. Is it, perhaps, because it’s not an easy thing to do?”). Now, they had to scramble for an answer to that.

Ace was first to come up with a response for that particular curveball, though he definitely fumbled it a little in the beginning: “Then — then you can’t conceptualize the difficulty of learning another language. You should listen to the people who do have to when they tell you it’s difficult.”

”Which, again, is none of you.”

Kuroki hated this man.

“Would you consider a supplementary test for those that speak Common as a second language?” Jack cut in. “That way, they can be graded for their skills as a second language speaker, and not be compared directly with first language speakers?”

“Once again, it is far too late to implement that. Beyond that, it would be somewhat unfair to provide ‘extra credit’ opportunities in any form to some students and not the others.”

Jack frowned. It had seemed like the most fair option. Kuroki was pretty sure that’s what they did for second language speakers back in his world. But he was perfectly content with it not working, because he had other plans, and this had bought him enough time to come up with a new plan:

Kuroki leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees, hands folded beneath his chin. “Then I guess the only other way to make it fair is to translate the test into every existing language.”

Crowley spluttered. “That’s impossible! Do you know how many languages there are?! And that’s excluding dialects! Not to mention, translation is difficult, many subtle nuances can get lost… in…”

He trailed off, suddenly aware that the students were smirking at him, their eyes gleaming victoriously.

“… ah.”

“So, if you admit spelling and grammar is difficult when it comes to other languages,” Kuroki began, smiling. “Then maybe you shouldn’t take points off for it.”

~

The group of first years left the office, grinning widely.

Ace and Deuce high fived. Kuroki, Grim, and Enma shared a brief hug.

Jack just kinda… stood there, awkwardly.

Kuroki turned a smirk onto him, lifting his arms invitingly. “C’mon, Jack, celebrate with us!”

“No. Nope. Nuh-uh.”

Kuroki snickered, rolling his eyes, leaning against Enma’s side. “Thanks for your help.”

“Don’t get me wrong! I was doing that for me. I don’t want to join whatever your group of friends —” He spat the word like it was a bad thing. “— has going on. Especially not you Ramshackle kids, you guys are weird.”

“Don’t worry, Jack-kun, we don’t get them either,” said Ace.

Enma huffed, slinging his arm over Kuroki’s shoulders. “You’re just jealous that some people can form healthy friendships.”

“Healthy?!” Ace said incredulously.

“Friendships?!” said Deuce, utterly flabbergasted.

Ace snorted. “They’re not dating.”

“They’re not?!”

“No, I think I’d understand it more if they were dating.”

Enma and Kuroki grimaced at the very idea.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “So, they’re just… like that?”

“Like what?!” snapped Enma.

“Yep, it’s the main reason why we haven’t transferred to Ramshackle yet — well, that and because the place is falling apart.”

Kuroki shot Ace a glare. The boy was, infuriatingly, unrepentant.

See, this is why he needed his gun back. To abuse his power.

(Okay, maybe that was why he didn’t have one anymore…)

“We’re not dating. Kuroki is like…” Enma floundered for a solid minute, before crossing his arms and looking away. “I don’t know, an annoying little brother, I guess?”

Kuroki barely even registered Ace and Jack saying that they didn’t treat their siblings like this. His face burned red. For many reasons. Mostly because the feeling was… mutual, even if he’d never admit to that aloud. But also because the feeling was mutual.

“Excuse you? I’m not the little — one, you are.”

Enma snickered. “Nah. Look at you. You’re the littlest brother that has ever brothered.”

“Ito is younger than me, y’know!”

“Yeah, but they’re not a ‘brother’.”

Damn! True!

”Besides, have you considered: the vibes.”

Kuroki scowled.

Grim settled on his shoulder, and yet offered no comfort: “Kuroki is very little.”

Enma blinked. And then patted Grim on the head. “Maybe you’re right, Kuroki, you’re not the youngest.”

Kuroki lit up. So did Grim, but only because he was preparing some of his infamous flames.

They were all distracted, temporarily, though, when Jack tipped his head back in a laugh.

And it wasn’t that Jack never laughed, but… no, yeah, he didn’t really emote all that often. Not this openly.

“You know what? I think I see it now,” Jack said. “Maybe you guys do act like brothers, just very clingy ones.”

They would take the win!

Enma smiled. “Hey, we do study groups. Do you want to come to one sometime?”

“Uh — sure, extra studying can’t hurt.”

“Cool! Can’t wait.”

“You’re just saying that because he agrees with you,” Ace teased.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

And, just like that, they gained a new friend.

~

Ito nearly cried when they saw their grade on their next quiz.

“Woooooaaaah,” said Enma, pressing a hand to his mouth in overexaggerated surprise. “They must not be grading spelling errors anymore. That’s cool and super duper unexpected.”

Kuroki cuffed him over the back of his head. “How can you be so good at manipulating everyone else but when it comes to us you suddenly suck at lying?!”

“I feel bad lying to you guys,” Enma mumbled.

Kuroki’s face flushed.

But it seemed he was not going to get even a second to recover. Ito grabbed him and Enma by the front of their shirts and dragged them into a hug.

“Thank you,” they murmured.

Kuroki flushed red.

”I helped!” said Grim.

Ito pulled back and reached for the monster, tugging him close so they could press a kiss to his forehead. “Thanks, boss.”

Grim’s fur stood on end in absolute shock. He recovered quickly, of course, spouting off about how every boss must treat their henchmen well. And his henchmen, as all henchmen should be, were amazing yes-men, nodding along to every word.

[cat-n-rabbit]

Today on... cool things in SaGaRS that are no longer available.

Modern heroes! Or.. all the funny prefecture collabs edits and other events where the 7 Heroes just had fun.

Unfortunately all of these were from post Polka's arc where the game got little to no writing anymore so all these events have no story beyond what you can come up with while reading the descriptions. I don't know why it was so difficult to attach some dialogue and exchanges between the characters in a pixel art game but I suppose that was too much to ask for from the small indy developer SQUARE ENIX ...

These are now only available in the game's custom battle design option, and I don't really remember others, but anyhowsies.... here we go, for they are a lot!

We start of with the Music Fes 2022! It was one of my favorite events. It was so colorful and so many SaGa characters were having music/performance styles! The event came with a raid event and bosses with their own stages. Wagnas had not only a banner style but raid boss style too!

I don't remember the BGM that played on his stage but I assume it was one of the 7 heroes arrangements. Modern world pop star Wagnas?

Sadly majority of the events didn't get any story context. The best you could do is piece together a narrative based on their banner lines...which wasn't much. Given how Final Emperor had a music festival style too along Wagnas makes me wonder how were they both talked into this? Then again Wagnas seems to easily hop into festivities.

Next up is all the Saga prefecture collab bosses! RS will often have collabs with the saga prefecture in Japan and as result have raid events designed over various places in the prefecture. At various raid nodes you would have bosses who seem to be enjoying the activities there!

Your guesses of what's going on here is as good as mine xD;

Beyond Subier got drunk and claimed the spa pond(?) and Dantarg is out there to eat all the goods and you just happen to be on the way... I have little clue what's Kzinssie's deal. Did he try to eat a crab and the crab tried to eat him??

I assume these are the prefecture flag/colors? Bokhohn just had to control a giant...whatever that is (giant goby?) and we had to fight it at some point of course. I recall Rocboquet had a banner style during that event with skill especially targeting the giant gobby. It's a shame we never got story attached to these cause it felt like there was something going on here!

And lets not forget ... ... balloon Wagnas.

-Deep breathes- the source of my PTSD... Balloon Wagnas. Now, now... I know the event is gone and the game will disappear at the end of November, but let me just... just explain the pain and suffering. We had to get a drop from every prefecture boss from this event to turn in and get gems, typical grindy stuff. Usually RS is not too bad with drops. But not Wagnas, oh no... He claimed the skies with his balloons and he would not drop a dang balloon. 200+ fights later I finally got it, normally it would take like less than 50... Wagnas, what have I done to you!?? I've always collected your styles and used you in battles T^T;;;

Anyhowsies... so you know... Wagnas likes his ballons and he ain't sharing any. Not until you cry and beg I guess.

And last but not least.... That one time when idk what Bokhohn smoked but he went full Grinch/Scrooge mode and decided to ruin christmas for everyone !

Not only he was a boss he also had a banner style where he was all about riding a mechanical sleigh with puppet reindeers and raining bombs over Avalon! What was the context behind that? Who knows! It was event without any story context once again. I was especially sad we got no story cause Noel had a wonderful christmas style where he seemed to be enjoying himself for once. And Final Empress had a style on the same banner as Noel and it looked like a truce to enjoy the festivities.

Hokay... forgot about the School banners! The RS Academy events which... got a short 3 part manga comic but not an in-game story for some reason. But! We got... Astronomy Teacher Wagnas! Trickster illusionist Bokhohn and Janitor Kzinssie!

I remember in the manga Wagnas was being a bestie with Gerard and nerding about stars which I thought was really sweet, especially considering one of Gerard's styles does have Galactic Rift (strongest light spell!) and It's just me here connecting the dots like some wild conspiracy theoriest but I guess nerdy boy Gerard also enjoys astronomy!

Bokhohn seemed to be a student this time...which is funny cause isn't he supposed to be older than Wagnas? He mentions he prefers illusions and tricks to actual magic. Maybe in modern world he will be all about card tricks!

And... that's all I could pull from the vault!

I hope it was fun read. :>

I will miss the sillies RS provided. . . u_u; You could randomly miss a character regardless of which SaGa game and log into RS then put them in silly hat and go smack a random old boss or something... I only hope they will make a new SaGa mobile game at some point cause RS even in Japan is not doing well right now.

[glassbambbooks]

Drunk Walk Home

Pairing: Fem!Original Character/Multiple Fem! Original Characters

Summary:

Warning: Explicit use of drugs, cliffhanger, POV First Person

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

The party was incredible, at least I was having a great time, Lea hugged me from behind, laughing against my ear and leaving kisses on my cheek from time to time, Joline was sitting next to me, her gray eyes inspecting everyone from top to bottom while taking short sips of what she had in his hands. I could tell it was beer, although I wasn't entirely sure. Lora, on the other hand, was fluttering around like a forest fairy, giving smiles and offering the cookies she had prepared for that night.

I imagine she got bored at a certain point because she sat next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder, also receiving cuddles from Lea who was definitely more clingy than usual, she didn't seem to want to let go of me, and she didn't even take too much. Despite the lively atmosphere and danceable pop music, Joline looked bored.

Her eyes would get lost from time to time in the middle of the crowd or she would share meaningful glances with Lora; After 5 minutes of silence between the four of us, she stood up suddenly and carelessly left her glass on the chair where she had been. 

“I'm going for something.” she said quietly before rushing out into the house. Lea just laughed loudly next to my ear, it stunned me for several seconds, but I didn't say anything when I felt her lips against my cheek again, I could only laugh groggily as she let all the people pass by us.

I still couldn't help but think from time to time how the three of them had completely changed my life. When I saw Joline for the first time, I didn't think she would be interested in me. She was beautiful enough to be evil, but she never was; at least never with me. Lea at first seemed like the shyest person I had ever met, soon after I discovered how affectionate and lively she really was; and what can I say about Lora Izara, she was a whole other topic, so mysterious, so quiet and always going after the other two, I soon realized that she was simply a little shy. Although all that shyness disappeared after a few drinks.

Joline returned shortly after, not as agitated as before, but with one of her hands inside the pocket of her tight pants. She sat down next to me again, taking his arm again and placing a hand on my thigh with a feline smile, her fangs protruding slightly.

“Guess what I got with Tommy…” She said, taking out a small bag, Lora's head raised, her smile growing on her face as she looked almost with desire at the contents of the bag, Lea, for her part, let out a squeal that made me cover my ear because of the ringing that had left me, she jumped into Joline's arms, hanging on to her neck while she looked at the bag with active interest.

“What's that?” I asked Joline, she looked at me, her hand giving my thigh a squeeze before encircling Lea's waist.

“It’s the reason for your best dreams from now on.” She winked at me while Lea let out another high-pitched screech, jumping up and down with uncontained excitement.

“It's coke” Lora answered directly, her smile had not diminished at all, but her gaze had softened towards me. “You can, you know, do it with us if you want, or just watch.” Lora raised her hand to my cheek and gave me a small caress before returning her gaze to Joline, her hand now going down to my shoulder. “Let's go inside, it's very dangerous out here.” I let myself be guided, a little dazed by so much information at once.

Taking into account that I had only just started drinking with them, one good thing is that the house was Joline's, she could sleep or do whatever she wanted inside. There were few people inside, spread between the kitchen and the living room. There was Tommy too, sitting comfortably on the couch with one of the soccer girls sitting on him, shouting at the screen and laughing loudly at whatever nonsense he was seeing on the screen, but none of them gave them more than a glance before going directly to Joline's room, Lora's hand intertwined with mine on the way, I couldn't help but notice how she trembled slightly, although the most excited was clearly Lea, who giggled every few steps and clung to Joline’s arm, as if it were her cane.

When we arrived, Joline took off the sweatshirt she was wearing and threw it into a corner of the room. Lora let go of my hand and took off her shoes, putting them in a corner as a symbol of respect. It was something she did when she entered a house or a special room, Lea instead threw herself on the bed, laughing and unbuttoning the buttons of the big shirt she had.

“So…” she hums happily. “It was a gift from Tommy, right? So why not unwrap it now?” She tried to take the bag from Joline, but she moved to the side before she could do it.

“Ah-ah, don't even think about it, I'm going to be the first because he gave it to me for a reason, don't you think, Loizie?” Both pairs of gray eyes shared a look and a smile, Lora sat on the bed, her hand quickly stroking Lea's hair before responding.

“Sure, it's a gift for you.” Lea grumbled, but they both ignored her. I couldn't help but freeze at the door, instinctively I crossed my arms and leaned my back against the closed door while I watched as Joline knelt in front of her nightstand and took out some of the white powder, she extended her hand towards Lora who handed over a badge that I quickly identified as her university ID. She began to arrange it in a line.

I looked away, something annoying started to grow in my stomach as I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror, my face was wrinkled and I noticed that I had turned a little pale. I had never even been in an environment where drugs were used so openly, philosophy was not the ideal career to avoid them either, but at least I did not expect them to do so.

Through the mirror I saw how Joline leaned over, her spine was visible in her top as she snorted, a white noise filled my ears as I shifted my gaze to my shoes, the converse that I had brought because I hadn't found anything better in my closet. Lea's laughter sounded like a distant sound, as if I had been put into a tube or a pool full of water.

“Alondra” One of the girls called me, I raised my gaze to meet Joline's worried eyes. She had a red nose. “Hey, pretty, are you okay? Do you need to come up for air?” I shook my head, ignoring the growing pressure in the middle of my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek before approaching the bed and letting myself fall on it. I felt a little dull, as if I had suddenly become weak. Lora looked worried, but as soon as Joline got up, Lea followed her example and ran to kneel in front of the nightstand. I looked away as she began to rearrange the line with Lora's card.

A cold hand took mine while one of the two left a comforting kiss on my cheek, that only increased the pressure in my chest. Why them? Why hadn't I gotten up and left the room? Joline had offered it to me and Lora mentioned it from the beginning, but that curiosity I felt was impossible to undo. The same one that made me look at Lea while she snorted, her pale, freckled hands following a routine that she already seemed to know by heart, then clinging to the table when she sneezed.

“Blessed you.” I told her, feeling my voice strangled. Lora left me as soon as Lea jumped around the room again, too excited to look for a speaker or something, as if the music coming through the walls wasn't enough for her.

I couldn't look at Lora, I did when she got up and crouched in front of me, a sympathetic smile drawing her lips full of gloss.

“How is it done?” I asked, it came out, I didn't even think about it too much when I asked it, Joline's surprised look made me hesitate for a second, but I returned her look with a confidence that I didn't know I could have in front of her. In fact, I didn't know how I could even maintain security in front of them, they made me completely weak in the face of any of their requests or ideas, no matter how absurd they may be.

“It feels amazing!” Lea exclaimed in a shout louder than it should have been. “You just have to form a line, cover the side of your nose and inhale. Like this.” She imitated the movement as if she were sucking in air before having a coughing fit, it stopped after a few seconds.

“You don't have to” Joline replied, looking a little annoyed at Lea, but she ignored her, too busy undoing the order she had on her shelf, looking for… whatever she was looking for. “We're just doing it for fun, you can stay, you don't have to.” Joline laughed although it felt more forced than anything else. Lora was standing with her arms crossed looking at me. His big eyes scrutinized me before approaching and smiled at me.

“Lea is a little crazy, pretty, you don't have to do it.” His words calmed the pressure in my chest, but my eyes drifted back to the table, the white dust that was still there was little… I could try.

I got up and stood face to face with Lora. Despite everything she was very short, at least half a head shorter than me, I smiled at her and left a kiss in her hair, her curls tickling my nose before kneeling in front of her. the table, repeating the same mechanical movement that the three had done with the card. I was being stupid, probably the craziest thing I'll ever do in my life, and absolutely pointless, but the emptiness in my stomach grew bigger and bigger and my nose tickle before I did it.

The first thing I felt was burning, a raw burning that went from my nose to the middle of my throat. I coughed a couple of times before opening my eyes, I didn't realize that I had closed them, although I did notice how watery they were now. had. My head was starting to spin. I didn't feel anything else, I didn't really understand Lea's emotion, it was even a little... disappointing.

Lora's hand reached behind my back and I looked at her, her smile was comforting and small, she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my nose, almost playful as I heard Joline's laughter in the background.

– It’s not a big thing. – I told them while I ran my hand over my nose, it stung a little, although I knew it wouldn't go away even if I stuck a stick in it. – I don’t feel anything. – I grimaced and heard Lea's loud laughter. She seemed more ecstatic than normal, her arms rising above her head when Doja Cat started playing over the speaker. She approached me in two strides and the difference in height made me a little dizzy. I was still kneeling and she was in front of me, one of her fingers raising my chin as she smiled at me, her front teeth sticking out like a rabbit's smile.

– The effect is not immediate, silly, but believe me, it is incredible. Now, dance with me. – She leaned closer and took one of my hands, pulling it. Her shirt moved and revealed a bit of her bra, I stood up tripping over my own feet a little before her hands moved behind me, guiding me from side to side and singing the lyrics of the song out of tune, my hands went to her wrists as she laughed.

That kind of nonsense was what I really loved, next to me Lora was shouting the rap in Joline's face. Joline looked pleasantly surprised and giggled from time to time as she hugged her.

After the second song I started to feel it, my skin was tingling and my head felt a little fuzzier, Lea's hands were starting to get too hot for my skin, in general my clothes were starting to suffocate me. Her eyes were unfocused and her pupils were dilated, the green of her eyes was now just a thin stripe around her pupil, I assumed mine were the same.

– Oh, leave me, Jo. – I heard Lora say between laughs, when I turned around they were both lying on the bed fighting among themselves, Lora already had big eyes, her pupils were very dilated and sweat was beginning to show on her face, but I couldn't help but notice that I looked. She was staring at me just like Joline, both seemed very serious while they didn't take their eyes off me.

– Alondra, come on, it's my favorite song. – Lea called me as she pulled my arm to get closer to her again, but the feeling of being watched did not completely go away, even the heat only began to increase even more.

– It's really hot. – I said, my voice sounded distant, as if they had put me in a tube, again, when I looked at Lea, I noticed the same look that Joline and Lora had. – I'm going to sit. – I said, abruptly releasing myself from her grip and going to a corner of the room, her gaze penetrated deep into my skin as he looked at my knees. Lea laughed and simply continued dancing, singing out of tune the parts she knew and otherwise babbling. They seemed so lost, but I felt like they were looking at me, I felt thousands of eyes looking at me and the heat in the room only got higher and higher.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but at some point during that period I had taken off my sweatshirt, leaving me in a light shirt that I had brought underneath. I hugged my knees while looking at the bed. Joline was hugging Lora and leaving regular kisses on her cheek, all while Lea put on a show in front of them, singing songs she couldn't recognize at the time. Still I felt watched.

Even when they were focused, I could feel as if they were watching me from all sides, my hands squeezed my legs and I realized that I couldn't feel them. I dug my nails in hard and still I couldn't feel pain... I couldn't feel pain.

I looked again at Lea who didn't seem to notice anything, her red hair moved from one side to the other while she was singing some Billy Idol song, the man's voice sounded in the background and I began to feel that his voice was going inside me, my head started to vibrate and I had to hold it tightly, it was getting harder and harder to breathe and those eyes wouldn't stop watching me. Why wouldn't they stop watching me? There was no one else but them.

– Again. – Lea's voice was becoming increasingly shrill in my ears. I had ordered Joline to do something, when I raised my head I saw that she left a kiss on Lora's lips, Lea applauded as she jumped up and down, her smile was... Weird, it didn't seem to belong to his face.

A ray of pain filled my head making me let out a moan, I hid my head between my knees and hugged my legs tighter to my chest, nausea began to arise from the center of my stomach and I had to bite my lips hard to avoid that nothing would happen.

– Allie, are you okay? – I raised my head to meet Joline's face, I swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat and nodded, she smiled and caressed my arm. I was burning, his touch was burning, I didn't want him to get any closer because it was just hotter. – It hit you hard, huh? Do you want to go out for air? – I could barely nod when she was already hallo, I didn't have the strength to get up, but I couldn't help but notice that same look and that same smile that Lea had had.

Why didn't they look like them? It was as if they had been exchanged for dolls. I let go of his grip a little more abruptly than I intended and touched my wrist, my skin felt on fire and I could barely breathe normally, the noise outside only got bigger when we left, a group of boys and girls were scattered around the kitchen and living room, playing with plastic cups and throwing pieces of paper at each other like high school students.

Joline yelled at some of them that they had thrown water on the couch, but it didn't go any further, at least I didn't hear it when they touched me again. Lea took my hand and led me to the garden. I wanted to scream at her to let me go, but the eyes that I felt glued to me simply multiplied, it felt like everyone was looking at me, if everyone knew me and knew what I had done. The nausea came back stronger and I had to cover my mouth to prevent the bile from coming out; Lora tried to hold me up, but I quickly got lost in the crowd.

The music was too loud anyway, people were bumping into me and I felt all eyes on me, I felt watched and persecuted, the fresh air did nothing to lower the temperature or dissipate the disgust I felt. I felt lost, I walked to where I felt safest.

When I realized I was outside Joline's property, standing in the middle of the road that led uphill towards the other houses in the neighborhood, I sat in the middle of the street and the cold asphalt was a relief for my overheated body. I started to laugh out of relief, although I had to stop because of the stab of pain that crossed my forehead, so I closed my eyes and lay there in the middle of the street.

A powerful light was getting closer and closer to where I was, I barely opened my eyes when I saw a car speeding towards me, my eyes began to go out of focus and my mouth opened to scream.

The last thing I could hear was a scream that echoed in my ears before everything went black and I lost consciousness.