#we about to be having a very extended and needed nap time

[napping-sapphic]

Finally back from our four hour emergency vet visit at 4am and girl i might not just be out of spoons but also the entire cutlery drawer at this point

[akutasoda]

vying your attention

synopsis - they've never gone this long without a trace of you in their day, is it so wrong for them to want your attention?

including - jing yuan, jiaoqiu, mydei

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 1.7k

a/n: argh i shouldn't of taken this long off writing ;; had to turn to writing for some favourites to ease back in... also newish format maybe.. what do we think?

jing yuan ★↷

all it took was a small glance around his office for the general to decide he was too lazy to do anything else for the day.

it took him an extra few seconds to decide that it would be the prime time to find you but jing yuan was quick to reluctantly backtrack on that idea. while he deeply longed to do so, like usual, he knew today was rather busy for you so he respected your other commitments.

although, he would come to regret that the longer the day drew on - not that he would admit that openly with words.

however there was only so much that jing yuan could do to control himself from disturbing you, mainly seeing as it was such a common occurrence for the both of you that it felt too weird for him not to. fortunately for you, he was considerate enough to wait long enough to where he was sure you weren't as busy anymore.

which meant in the meantime he would shrug off most duties and take what he deemed a well deserved nap.

jing yuan would then come to wake up way too eager than usual, the simple prospect of being able to finally see you after all this time was enough to motivate him to shake off his drowsiness as quickly as he ever had. it didn't take him long to find you either, and as soon as he did you were well aware of his presence.

he was subtle with it at first.

you noticed him lurking around where you went, an occasional glance on your end would end up with your eyes meeting before you'd look back to what you were doing. you knew he was waiting for the very second you finished up to swoop in and take your attention and time for the whatever was left of the day.

his subtle hints to you that told you he was waiting for your attention soon morphed into blatant displays. so much so to the point that jing yuan took the initiative and dragged you away from whatever was keeping you occupied.

at your complaints, jing yuan would assure you that he'd get it all cleared up for you at some point before rambling on about how much he missed you and how you needed to make up the time he went without you.

all you could do was sigh in defeat - although if you were being one hundred percent honest you were glad he dragged you away especially as now you could spend your time with your lover.

jiaoqiu★↷

it had become a rather “bad habit” - depending on who it came from - from jiaoqiu to be beside you at all times, or as often as he could as naturally there were occurrences where that would be impossible. most of the time, the times you two could be together would be at home or on mundane trips out and around the yaoqing.

and despite how pleasantly often those times occurred, the times in between were arguably the worst, even more so when they were well extended beyond jiaoqiu's liking.

he understood that you could both be busy but sometimes that was against his best wishes - today was one such time.

it started the moment you both began your day, he knew he had a pretty average day ahead and judging by your lack of presence, he knew you would have a very busy one. it already felt odd to jiaoqiu that you weren't around in the morning, he didn't quite know how long that would last but he didn't dare dwell on it too much.

the day already seemed to drag on in his mind. every minute felt like an eternity. he began finding himself doing every single meaningless task and such to keep him occupied. and when he ran out of things to do, he found himself seeking moze's company to fill some time and getting him to accompany him to some basic daily tasks he started building.

every so often, jiaoqiu would leave you a voice message just to grow slightly impatient when he would receive no response - a slight downturned flick of his ear would be a clear sign that he was becoming irked even if he tried to play it off.

moze was convinced that at some point jiaoqiu was counting down minutes and seconds, mainly judging by the fact that he kept asking what time it was within too close of a time span.

even when jiaoqiu returned home, he kept himself close to the front entrance just so he was as close as he could be when you eventually returned. so as soon as jiaoqiu heard the front door close and recognised the sound of your footsteps, he knew this was his chance to get his repayment from you for making him wait all day.

he began finding his way to you but was quickly met by you finding him first since your need to see him rivalled his to see you as soon as possible. the very moment you were in range, you brought him into your embrace- something he very quickly reciprocated.

even as you began to let go, you noticed the ever present subtle feeling of jiaoqiu's tail being wrapped around your waist remaining. it had crept round during the hug and it appeared it wasn't letting go anytime soon, much to the owners happiness. not that you minded either.

jiaoqiu was yearning for some of your attention all day and now that he had the chance to receive it, he certainly wasn't passing up the opportunity.

mydei ★↷

he was never really one to actively seek out somebody for small, needless acts - although that wasn't to say it wasn't an entirely impossible occurrence.

and rather admittedly, it happened too often nowadays for mydei's likeness. especially now that you had become so integrated into his daily life, a permanent constant that left him feeling like he was missing something detrimental in his life if he so happened to not see you on a day.

so he'd always make the minimal effort it took to see you, or vice versa, whichever one came to see the other first.

however, today you hadn't reached out to him once nor had you even asked if you could see him. mydei chalked it up to you being occupied and left it, it was only the first half of the day after all, you might become freed up later. so he sent a small message to you in hopes of you seeing it eventually and responding to let him know when you were.

the day seemed to draw on despite who he talked to or what he did to fill the time - mydei became too subconscious for his liking about checking for a message from you.

he sent another message and got on with his day yet again.

while he wouldn't exactly call himself impatient or even pressing, he definitely felt that way when he noticed the day drawing to a close and he'd sent a few more messages than he felt necessary to you in hopes of any response from you. even though he reasoned that he you were extremely busy and that was understandable, a part of him was hoping for a small indicator that you were doing well.

it couldn't even be classed as vying for a fragment of your attention in your busy day, well at least he wouldn't, but at some point, when the day finally turned to night, mydei decided to go see you in person.

he managed to learn from a few others where your last seen whereabouts were, which was a small relief for him to know that his suspicions about you being bust were right - and the small idea of something horrid happening to you was obsolete. but mydei certainly wouldn't rest until he saw you himself.

you were completely exhausted to say the least. the day had taken quite the toll on you, draining you of practically all your energy. it was only when you collapsed into the sanctity of your accommodation that it dawned on you to check for messages - namely as you realised you hadn't spoken to mydei at all, which is normally a staple of your day.

being greeted with quite the few messages from him was not so much a surprise but more of a slight guilt inducing moment. one that was made worse by the fact that before you had a proper chance to read and respond, the commotion of someone knocking caught your attention.

however that quickly morphed into a welcome surprise when you found out it was mydei himself knocking. immediately upon seeing you, he seemed to visibly perk up but that may be insisted upon by someone that it was your imagination. you barely had the chance to greet him before you practically felt yourself being picked up.

mydei mumbled something that you caught barely, along the lines of both being tired, you not being around him at all today and needing some time with you.

and all of a sudden you were both caught in a cuddle. mydei held you close in his arms and you staggered for a second before reciprocating. the tiredness combined with being held in his arms led to you drifting off before you knew it and the last thing you remember thinking was something along the lines of mydei being like a cat…

[venusalexian]

solet IV

it's a family thing

alexia putellas x teen!reader & barça femení x teen!reader

in which your concept of family expands and Alexia gives you the best present ever

Olga comes home from the airport in the late afternoon and finds a sight that makes her heart skip a beat. The TV playing softly in the background, two empty bowls on the coffee table, and you and Ale curled up on the sofa. She has grown so accustomed to it that she can vividly imagine the build-up to this scene.

You two coming home from your respective trainings, Alexia preparing a quick lunch (“too healthy” – you bantered) that you decided (insisted) in eating it in the living room while rewatching an old Barça game from when Ale was young (“you just wanna make fun of me”, “well yes, if you get to see me do teenage mistakes I should be able to do it too”). 

Ale has not yet mastered saying no to you.

Your head moving to her shoulder but fighting sleep (“i’m not a baby ale, I don’t need a nap”). You falling asleep either way, and Ale following you shortly after, with no option to move without disrupting you.

Her soft, sleepy girls.

She juggles her suitcase over to their room, careful of the noise, changes into comfy clothes after a quick shower, and joins you on the sofa. You rouse from your slumber when she settles on the other side of Ale.

“Hey Olgui.” You mumble, eyes still glazed from sleep. Your jostling wakes Ale up, too.

“Hey, amor.”

Yeah, Olga loves your sleepy smiles when you see her. Practically identical expressions that should not be possible with your lack of common genetics and the little time you’ve been in each other’s lives. 

Without a word, you tug on her arm so she stands up and switches seats, pushing her to sit on the other side of you this time. You grasp each of their hands by your sides, and move your head from Ale’s to Olga’s shoulder.

“Hey, vaya morro. She’s my girlfriend, you know?” Ale stares at you with an incredulous look.

“Quit the dramatics, Ale, you’ll get your cuddles at night, so I get her now.” You even stick your tongue out at her.

“Do I get a say in this?” jokes Olga.

“No” you say in unison, and it makes all three of you smile.

As the silence settles, Ale and Olga share a look over your head, knowing this is the perfect opportunity to have a pending conversation they have been preparing for.

“Hey, solet.” Ale starts. You respond with a hum.

“How do you usually spend the holidays?”

“Well, it’s always been just me and the avis. Not too different from any other day, just with carols on the TV and a very specific holiday menu.”

“Mmmh, and when do you get presents, bebè?” Olga starts playing with your hair as she asks, making your shoulders relax.

“The 6th, for Reyes. Nothing significant; they couldn’t afford much on their pensions. I would always ask for my football gear then.” you respond, lower, softer, self-conscious.

“So smart, solet.” mumbles Ale against your head, leaving a kiss at your hairline. You preen at the praise.

“What do you think about doing it here this year, huh? We’ll get everyone here, Ale’s family, my mami, your grandparents.”

“How, um, how would that work?”

“Well, my family has always celebrated on the 24th and Ale’s on the 25th. What we did last year was host here on the 24th, and then go down to Ale’s uncle house on the 25th with her extended family. As we didn’t do much for the 6th, just went down to Eli’s to exchange gifts, then to my mom’s for lunch. But we could do it here this year, get everyone over for lunch so it’s easier for your grandparents and you to be with us.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this, huh?”

“Yes, solet. However, we also wanted to discuss it with you. Our priority is for you to be comfortable and have a good time. So if any of it looks like too much, we don’t have to do it.”

“How big is your family thing, Ale, on the 25th?”

“A little over a dozen people usually. My grandma will be there, my aunts and uncles, and some cousins with their kids. They’re all excited to meet you. Mami has been bragging.” That makes you crack a smile.

“Yeah, I could do that.”

“It’s decided, then.” They’re both smiling at you so widely, all three of you relaxing.

“We’ve got a plan then. Now, dinner?” Olga uses your knee to get up from the couch, moving towards the kitchen.

“Pizza!” You yell, ready to cash in a reward.

“From the nice, new place by the plaza? Ale asks.

“Yes!”

“No.” She responds with a fake serious expression.

“But Ale!” you pout.

“Fine.” she rolls her eyes, but also hides a smile.

“You really need to learn how to say no to her.” Olga yells from the kitchen, once again amused at your banter.

It’s you and Ale this time who share a secret smile, practically reading each other’s minds, then proceed to run up to her and attack her with tickling. Giggling fills the room, and you can’t help but think that your new plans for the holidays are the best way to end a year filled with so much change.

“You’ve got everything you need, right?”

“Yes, Ale.”

“And you know you can call me anytime and I’ll come, right?”

“Yes, Ale.”

“And –” you cover her mouth with your hand,

“Can we knock, please? We’ve been at the door for like five minutes.”

Before she can answer you, the door opens from the other side.

“I thought I heard you two bickering.” Jana smirks from the doorframe. Ale rolls her eyes, and you smile shily at her.

Ale’s teammates, especially the younger ones, have been a growing presence in your life since that first team bonding night. Coming by the house, and in the past few weeks, even joining Ale at your games. It still came as a surprise to you, though, when Ale came back from training with an invitation for you. Jana had planned a Girls’ Night in her apartment to celebrate the end of classes and exams with her fellow teammates that were still suffering through university.

She had specifically requested Ale to ask you to join them, apparently eager to get to know you better, “considering we all know she’ll be in this team sooner rather than later”. You had blushed when hearing that part and had been equal parts nervous and excited to accept the invitation.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you here with Jana as the oldest and most responsible one.”

“Yeah, I love you too Ale.” Jana responded, rolling her eyes.

“You know I do.” Ale left a quick kiss on her forehead. “But you better return her tomorrow just as I left her, all clear?”

“Yes, Capi. Now go, no fossils in my apartment tonight.”

“You’ll laugh less when the fossil makes you run laps next training.” Then she turned to you.

“Have fun, yeah? And call me if you need anything at all.” She wraps you in a tight hug and kisses your head softly.

“Yes, Ale.” you mumble into her shoulder. Before you realise it, though, Jana has circled her arm around your shoulders and pulled you to her side.

“She’s ours now. Fuig!”

Jana closes the door on her.

“Be good!” You two hear from across the wood.

Then, Jana turns to face you, a wide smile on her face.

“The rest will be here soon. Let me show you around.” She pulls you into the apartment. “You can drop your bag off anywhere.”

You two move into the living room.

“We’ll be hanging here tonight.” You can tell, the room looks nice and cozy, although a bit crowded right now with the mattresses covering the floor.

“The bathroom is a the end of the hallway, past the two rooms. And the kitchen is —.” She realises she’s lost your attention. Your eyes are fixed on the glass to the right of the TV. Medals, trophies, and pictures of finals with cups bigger than herself.

You don’t notice Jana moving close to your side, both of you now facing the cabinet. 

“You’ll be there with us soon. I know so.” You blush at her words, unsure how to respond. She continues, though, sensing your hesitation. “I joined the first team when I was really young. I know how unbelievable it feels to even consider it a possibility. But trust me, you will.”

She holds your shoulders again, like she did when she pulled you into the apartment.

“And I, for one, am really excited about you joining us.”

You look up at her now, surprised at her words.

“It’s always amazing to get more players coming up from La Masia. You’ll do great.” Yeah, you’re definitely blushing now.

“Besides, I’ve always wanted to have a little sister. Vicky doesn’t count, she’s more of a… feral pet.” She’s smirking now.

“I heard you!” comes from the door, where Vicky and Salma are coming in.

“You could’ve knocked.” She yells, sharing an amused smile with you.

“You gave me the key.” Vicky sing-songs as she enters the room and jumps on her back.

“And I can take it away.” Jana pushes her off her back, but passes her arm through her shoulders like she had done to you, leaving a kiss on the side of her head.

“Yeah, yeah.” They’re both smiling now, and it makes you crave that same easiness and camaraderie.

Vicky then turns to you, and she and Salma move closer to where you two are standing.

“Jana’s a tad intense, but she’s right. And being the youngest in the team is a lot, but we’re super excited for you. And I’ll finally stop being the little kid.” Vicky rambles, pulling you into a hug, the action and words leaving you without words.

Salma lets out a breathy laugh after shaking your hand, more hesitant to invade your personal space than the other two had been.

“Someone save Alexia, with you three, who knows how she’ll say no to any of your shenanigans.”

Before you can respond to her, more voices come from the door.

“Hello!” Kika and Esmee enter, this time actually knocking beforehand.

“Come in! We’re plotting against Alexia.” Jana responds, again smiling mischievously and winking at you, like you’re already partners-in-crime.

“So I came in right at the perfect moment.” Kika hugs everyone in the room, leaving you for last. She envelops you completely in a tight hug, one that you know conveys a similar sentiment to Vicky’s and Jana’s words earlier.

Behind her is Esmee, who comes in more relaxed, but doesn’t hesitate to also pull you into a short one-armed hug like she’s done to the other girls. She’s quick to jump into teasing her teammates, though.

“Are they being too much?” 

“Hey! We’re just being proper older sisters.” Vicky protests.

“Yeah, by annoying her.” Esmee responds, 

“No no, they’re being nice. I promise.” You rebut quickly, feeling the need to defend the others, even if you know she’s teasing.

“Sssh, you don’t have to lie to me.” She continues.

You laugh properly now, amused at the whole scene, happy at the ease with which they’re pulling you into their bubble.

“Ona?” Salma asks when Jana closes the door, surprised they’re not also waiting for their other teammate.

“Nu’uh, she’s abandoned us for London this weekend.” Jana answers, rolling her eyes but with a smile.

“Booo!” respond Vicky and Kika.

“I know. I am sure she’s disgustingly happy without us.” Jana continues. You know you’re missing some context right now. It heightens your feeling as an outsider, but there is no time for you to get nervous before they’re pulling you back in.

“Come on, bebita, you’re choosing take out, and then we’re giving you the full scoop about the team gossip.” Vicky addresses you now as she pulls your arm to the sofa, quick to realize your moment of hesitation.

“I’m only two years younger than you.” you protest, in a whiny voice that actually makes you sound younger.

“Exactly, a baby.” she teases, but her hand is still holding your arm, and her smile is warm, not mocking.

“Oh, please. You’re both babies. But Vicky is right, petita, and you’re not escaping interrogation. We need to know all about you.” Jana ends your short squabble, once again smiling warmly at you.

At some point, Ale’s car should stop being witness to your anxious habits. Your leg bounces incessantly. One of your hands taps a random pattern on the door, the other raised to your mouth, biting your nails. When Ale realises, she grabs the hand at your mouth and brings it down to your thigh, where she holds it.

“Relax, solet. Everyone’s excited to have you there, and you’ll do great.” She smiles over at you as you stop for a red light.

“But –”

“No buts, just… trust me, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you with me there.”

You nod at her as the car moves, and she pulls her focus back on the road. Your leg still bounces, but your hands are calmer, both now holding the hand that Ale has not moved from your thigh as the Ciutat Esportiva comes into sight.

Christmas felt like the confirmation of your new life, like celebrating a milestone. Even Ale’s family celebration, although slightly overwhelming, solidified your space in their life. Everyone had been so excited to meet you, to see Ale’s new role, and you had ended up fitting right in –plotting with Alba to annoy Alexia, playing with the younger kids, blushing when their grandma called you ‘the prettiest girl’. 

Now a new year has begun, one that you have no idea what it will bring. And for the first time in your life, that is an exciting thought instead of an anxious one. Mainly because of this right here, everyone reunited at Olga and Ale’s house, which is starting to feel more and more like yours, too.

“Here, solet. I have one more thing for you.” Alexia says as she hands you one more box. You’ve already opened too many, really. New gear, nice clothes, some trinkets you’d just wanted but never asked for.

“I thought we were done?” you mutter.

“Just one more.” she pleads, and she’s pouting at you like she’s the teenager from the two of you.

“You have to understand her, she’s actually limited herself on how much she could have gotten you.” Alba teases her sister.

“Oh, please, you almost got her the whole store!” Ale responds to her.

“Yeah, yeah, you are both shopaholics, especially if it’s for other people. Now, let solet open it.” Olga finishes the argument for them.

You finally open it, following her guidance. You’re confused, though, when it’s finally unwrapped.

“Ale, I already have my training kit.”

“Yeah, but this one is, technically, different. It's a family thing, getting a new kit for a big milestone” Her eyes are shining, and she’s biting her lip not to smile too wide. But you’re still so confused, so she only receives a frown back.

“I received a call a few days ago. That, is a first-team training kit.”

Your ears ring, and your heart doesn’t know how to hold a normal rhythm anymore. But you need to hear her say the whole thing, need to confirm properly what you’ve fought so long for.

“You’re joining us after the holiday break, you’re one of the B team kids in dynamic for the remainder of the season.” She’s smiling so wide now, a full reflection of your own joy.

You launch yourself at her, hide your face against her shoulder like you’ve grown so accustomed to. One of your newest happy places. Around you, all of your family –yes, family– is congratulating you, screaming and squealing in delight. Your grandparents are hugging Eli, and Olga and Alba are already plotting about supporting you both in matches, as you can see from Ale’s shoulder.

But you and Ale hold onto each other. A sentiment shared with the only other person who fully understands how you’re feeling right now. A reflection of who Alexia was one day. A promise of the future, of what is to come for you together.

The year has just begun, and it is already so different from what it once was.

Training is intense. Everyone is faster than you, more skilled, more ready, attuned to the sets and each other. And even if you had met everyone already, they were still so intimidating. All focused, all doing their best. Especially Ale, who was footballer Alexia, Ballon d’Or Alexia, Captain Alexia. Not, well, your Ale. By the time all is over, you’re more exhausted than ever. And for the first time in a while, you doubt. 

You sit alone for a moment outside in the hall, needing the silence to organize your thoughts. Because what if it’s always this hard, if you’re not exactly made for this, if it’s too soon, if–

Before your head can continue to spiral, someone slides to the floor in front of you. You’re not sure who you expected, but definitely not her. Irene is sitting across from you, and she’s looking at you with an expression that she knows exactly what you’re thinking about.

“It’s a lot, huh?”

You nod, unsure if you can trust yourself to speak without crying.

“It was a lot for all of us, too.” You want to believe her, knowing she’s probably right, but it’s so hard. So she continues when you don’t answer.

“You don’t have to believe me. You just have to let yourself experience it all. Just trust one thing: we want you here. Your team wants you here. And that will be enough.” You nod and smile at her words. Less closed off, more calm.

“Thank you.” You speak clearly, grateful.

“Of course. You’re good, for the team, for her.” That brings a smile to your face, and you reply with warmth. “She’s good for me.” 

“I know that, too. Now, let’s go to the locker room so we can all leave.” She gestures to the end of the hall, and you follow her like a duckling.

All the noise hits you at once when you reach it. The first to intercept you are Jana and Vicky, one on each side of you. They congratulate you on the good work and tease you and each other about funny mistakes you’ve all made in the past couple of hours. Irene’s words have helped so much that you take it all in stride and even jump in with your own jokes and teasing.

Once you’ve changed, a hand taps your shoulder. You turn around.

“Home?” Ale asks, eyes soft.

“Home.” You nod, as if that word is simple and not an evolving concept that grows every day since you met her.

N/A

I'm following a timeline so you get christmas in june :))

don't fully know how i feel about it which is why it took me longer to publish it but i think im sufficiently satisfied now. it's definitely my fluffiest long piece, but i hope it's not too much.

next part should come out soon, it's already half-written and it's been on my drafts the longest.

as always, I love asks and requests in my inbox, feel free to leave your thoughts there!

xoxo, a.c. 💫​

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

I've just re-read my previous requested fic for tf 141 x reader with high pain tolerance, and I think we could extend this prompt (and as always you can take it or leave it, no pressure a yea 👍🏻)

What if TF 141 almost lost F!Reader again, this time she got caught by enemies and got tortured for crucial/classified information. While being tortured, you can't help but feel a little grateful that you have such an extreme pain tolerance. You finally managed to get out that place by your own (and of course after unaliving your enemies) and got back to your team. Men are worried as hell cause 1) you look like shit, like someone has just crawled out of hell (which in your part it isn't wrong), 2) the fact that you have extreme pain tolerance just make it worse

And when you finally got evaluated by medics, including clothes off, that's when they knew you'd have it worse than what they've imagined. Black-ish bruises almost every where, broken bones, dislocated joints, dried blood etc. It's heartbreaking seeing you like this. Probably some will have self blaming, guilty, rage, and other mixed emotions. Hmm imagine the heavy angst but also the massive comfort after that.

Thankskie 🦈

Summary: high pain tolerance F!Reader get tortured, after you getting rescued, enjoy the FLUFF between you and TF141

cw: very slight gore (interrogation), canon swearing, canon violence

blahaj, FLUFF, TF141*F!Reader

last req about high pain tolerance F!Reader

Oh, This isn’t great. You probably going to die this time.

You licked your chapped lips, the bitterness of iron is obnoxious, making you regret the motion and go back to try to piece together your memories again.

You counted the time when you first got caught, but after endless rounds of interrogations, your mind is too hazy to keep up the measurement.

With your hands bounding tightly on your back, chains and steel bars preventing your legs from moving, all you can do is just prey for your teammates to come.

At least you aren’t afraid, no fear of death, nor fear of pain. It’s always these moments that you feel grateful for having almost no feelings of pain, it makes you keep composed and adamant.

Well, starving kind of sucks though, you guess you’ll even devour those vegetables you hated and shoved into Kyle’s plate if it’s presented to you.

Your mind wanders, from your pudding hiding in the deepest part of the fridge in case someone (Soap) eats it, to how Price will scold your ears off for being too reckless when you’re back, until the footsteps outside the door remind you to concentrate.

Damn, you need to get out alive if you want to listen to your dear Captain recite the rules.

The door creaks open with the broad man stepping in and his dogs tailing after with weapons.

The cool water gets splashed on your face when the man stands still in front of you.

“New toy, yeah?” you spot the machete in the man’s grip

“Glad to see you awake, sergeant?” The man laughs “Seems like the mouth still works pretty well, I hope your mind is clear too so we can cooperate perfectly today.”

“Sober enough to tell you ‘no’, I guess”

Red pours from your shoulder the second after your taunt, and you frown slightly at the little sting.

“Fucking bitch still has a sharp tongue after these wounds...” He eyes down at you with a bit of disbelief.

Even though you can’t see yourself, you know you look like shit either. Burnings from the lighters, slash wounds from various tactical knives, dark bruises forming on your thigh and other parts after countless punches and kicks.

All you need to do is buy time, but even if you barely feel pain, you still will die from blood loss if this keeps going.

The rest of the interrogation is just adding more injuries to your broken body, and your consciousness starts fading.

You really want to take a nap... but will you wake up again? you’re not sure especially when another smash lands on the back of your head.

Just about minutes before you sure will pass out again, you hear the noise. Gunfire, yelling, screaming of a massacre.

They arrived...

“Go check what’s wrong.” The broad man gestures, and one of his subordinates walks out to

“Guess your saviors have come... now” You look straight into the man ’s eyes when he puts the muzzle between your eyes. “No time for playing, one last time, tell me the people gave you the intel.”

The chaos outside is getting louder and closer. Buy time, you tell yourself again, so you whisper

“Okay... Okay... I will tell you, please don’t kill me, please...” You sniff, and start sobbing while your head stays lowered.

“Finally giving up, huh? Tell me, I need their name, who do they belong.” The smirk on the man’s face gets wider, god, you really want to punch his face.

“It’s...” You murmur, and the man leans closer to hear clearly.

“It’s go fuck yourself, you bloody bastard.” You spit the blood on his face and grin like a maniac.

and the door swings open, the gunshot splatters the man’s blood on your face, but you don’t care.

You win.

“Hey, guys, long time no see.” You smile at your teammates after the man collapses beside you.

“You’re fine now, don’t worry, we got you.” Soap rushes to your side “Price is calling the exfil, Ghost and Gaz are outside making sure everything’s clear.”

“Thanks...” You melt into Soap’s arm when he unties the rope and carries you.

“I tell the bastard to go fuck himself, hehe.”

“Stop talking, bonnie, ye need to rest.”

“Did I do great?”

“Yes.” The gravel voice of Soap’s becomes softer as he answers.

“May I rest now?” you blink slowly.

“Of course, lassie.”

Getting the confirmation, The warmth radiating from Soap is too soothing, you want to tell him how much you miss them, but those words are unable to come out as you get dragged into a coma instantly.

“damn...”

Your eyelids flutter open, the familiar white ceiling is the first thing you see.

“Morning, bonnie, how do ye feel?”

“dizzy as fuck.”

“pain?”

“Nah.”

“Sometimes I think you’re not human...” Soap laughs, but he’s worried, or worried can’t describe his mood when he saw your wounds as you were sent into the infirmary.

That day when they back to base, all of them followed you, and didn’t pay any mind about getting their gears off first.

You looked like someone who just found her way out of hell, beautiful face swollen, large bruises spread across your skin like some nasty paintings, and the situation was worse than they expected after the medics cut your clothes off and started their evaluation.

Soap couldn’t forget the rage swallowing him like flames when he saw what you went through in those days, the more wounds they spotted, the more tension in the air became more insufferable.

Gaz and he cursed when they saw the huge burn on your back, skin obviously inflamed, and when the deep cuts that exposed the bones revealed from the cover, he noticed Ghost clenching his fist to suppress anger.

Price stormed out of the infirmary and called Laswell between the medics surmising how many of your bones were broken.

“Wait...” your voice pulls Soap back to reality “blahaj! 4 blahaj! Where do they come from?”

“Price gave them to you, as rewards for your hard work. He said you keep rambling about wanting to have one.”

“awwww” Soap grins as he watches you struggle to hug all of them at one time.

“There ya go.” He helps adjust the plushies so you can get them all in your arms.

“Oh yeah, where’s others?”

“Price’s on op, will be back in a week. Ghost and Gaz will visit you soon.”

“Hmmmm.”

You caress one of the blahaj’s head and turn your face

“Thank you.” you grin “For coming to save me.”

“What are you talking about?” Covering his hand on yours, he looks into your eyes, without those playful glints in his azure ones.

“We’re a team, or more than a team. Ye think we will throw ye there and do nothing?”

The seriousness on his face infatuates you, you meet his gaze without darting, and finally, break into tender giggles.

“yeah, sorry, you’re right.” You chuckle “You know what? In that basement, All I wanted was to get out of there and come back to eat my pudding.”

“Pudding?”

“Yeah, I have one in the fridge.” nodding in excitement, you continue “I should ask the doctor if I can eat it.”

“Wait that’s yours?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ehhh...” Soap’s smile freezes on his face under panic “I ate it.”

“...”

Soap MacTavish gets kicked out of the room with a new mission: buy 10 puddings.

When Gaz knocks on the door and steps into your ward, you are staring out the window, but turn to him immediately when you hear his arrival.

“Hey, Kyle.” You wave with your better hand.

“Feel better?” The sugar-coated smile he has always provides you with energy, your mood lights up as he takes the seat beside your bed.

“mmhmm, not that dizzy anymore.”

“loves those sharks very much?” He points at the blahajs you squeeze close to you.

“Damn, they’re my new babies now.” You show Gaz each of them.

“This is Pricey, this is Ghostie, this is Gazzy, and this is Soapy.” Proudly introducing them to Gaz, you give the sharkies a few pats.

“Such Innovative names, hm?”

“I don’t think Gaz is some special name too, Kyle.”

You both giggle at the stupid names you granted to the sharks, while Gaz lands his eyes on your arm hanging mid-air, his laughter gradually comes to a halt.

“Hey.” He watches you raise an eyebrow when he calls you “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Just...” His eyes stay on your bruises, traveling along them, and he hates that they lead his gaze to roam your whole figure. “We should be there faster.”

His brown eyes are full of distress when they meet yours again.

“Garrick, come closer.” You beckons, and he follows suit.

“Don’t apologize. When I saw all of you on that goddamn chair, I knew I was safe now.” You cradle his cheek in your palm “You guys are my shelter, my home, and I never thought the chance that my team wouldn’t save me, Soap said it yesterday, and I’m sure you’re the same, yes?”

“Of course.” His eyes soften, and you return him a reassuring smile when

“Time for you to go train the rookies, right?” Shooting a glimpse at the clock, you ask.

“yeah, time to deal with those troubles.” He stands up from the chair and looks down at you “See you, lovie.”

“see ya.”

You watch him walk towards the door, but stop after a few steps.

“Why does Soapy have a huge dent on his head?”

“Oh.” You pout “He ate my pudding, so I punched his shark since I can’t spar with him now.” another punch hit Soapy when you finish speaking.

“Wow...”

Gaz mourns for his brother’s future with his whole heart.

“Still awake?” The gruff yet gentle voice floats into your ear the moment the door slides open.

“Been sleeping the whole day, LT.”

Ghost watches you shift, and lies on your side to face him.

“How’s the day, Ghost?”

“Shit as usual.”

“How about seeing me, feel better?”

“Feels worse.”

“Hey, honesty is a virtue but not here.”

He scoffs at your retort as he observes your face.

“The bruises on your face look smaller.” Ghost indicates.

“Oh yeah, my face! How does it look like?” You point at the hand mirror Gaz brings you, and after Ghost hands it to you, you open the lid.

“Jesus Christ!” you shout when the reflection shows you how shit you look like “I’m so ugly right now!”

“We all know.”

“Damn, if there’s an award for honesty, you will be the winner, Simon.” You throw the mirror back into his grip.

“Will you congratulate me?”

“I will give you an ‘I’m a winner’ sticker for you to paste on your mask.”

He chuckles at your banter, but you can sense his exhaustion, from his limp body to his half-lid eyes.

“You’re tired, Simon. Go back to rest.” You coo softly.

“I’m not leaving until you sleep.”

“but I’m not that sleepy now.”

“Should I sing you a lullaby, sergeant?”

“I’m afraid that my ears don’t have the honor the hear your beautiful singing, Sir.” you feign an ‘oh hell no’ face to him, but your eyes light up when an idea comes to mind.

“Hey, how about you lie on my bed? it can fit 2 people.”

“I don’t know you’re such an active woman.”

“Fuck you, Simon. If you want me to fall asleep then get on the bed right now!”

Sighs in compromise, Ghost rises from the chair and sits on the edge of your bed with a grunt, and you scoot inward to leave him more space to lie down.

“You’re like a bear, Ghost, I’m gonna squash into a pie by you and the blahajs!”

“Then throw those bloody sharks on the floor.”

“No! they’re Tf141 blahaj!” You pet the one in your arms when Ghost gives you a confused face. “This is you, Ghost.”

“The real Ghost is beside you and you choose him over a fake one?”

“I don’t know you’re that active, lieutenant.”

You smirk at him, he’s only wearing a balaclava, so you’re able to see the corner of his eyes crinkle at your words.

But Ghost must have some magic, you grow sleepier under his presence, maybe it’s his steady breath sounds like a lullaby, or it’s because safety he always generously offers to you.

“Sleepy now?” He speaks slowly and quietly as if he’s fear of scaring your sleepiness away.

“a bit...” A big yawn answers the question better than your slurry voice.

“Close your eyes then.”

“mmm.”

You secure the Ghostie blahaj in a tight embrace as you follow Ghost’s command.

you feel light pats on your non-injured part, and you scoot closer to the bulky man, letting him lead you into a peaceful sleep.

Ghost watches you fall asleep, and he moves off the bed as gently as he can.

“Sweet dreams.” He chants in a low voice, and he takes other sharks in his hand, placing them closer to you.

Making sure the sharks are cuddling you, he leaves like a ghost in the serene silence.

You look down at yourself, ankles tied to the chair, blood dripping from the knife that’s barely in your sight.

Aren’t you already out of that basement...?

Is it all a dream? In reality, you’re still getting interrogated?

You try to fixate on the noise outside the door, but you feel the cold metal touching your forehead.

Am I never going to see them again? I want to see them again...

I want to hear Price’s praises, want to hear Soap and Gaz fighting over the last biscuit, want to hear Ghost’s annoyed voices at my frolic.

Tears gather in your eyes when you hear the click from turning off the safety of the gun.

“... geant...sergeant... sergeant.”

“Ahh!” You let out a yell as you snap your eyes open, which are wide with horror.

“Cap-Captain...” You pant whilst you recognize the person pulling you from your nightmare.

“Yes, it’s me, love. You’re safe now, you’re in the base, infirmary, remember?” He caresses your hair to calm you down.

Oh, yes, you aren’t in that basement. You’re back.

You’re with the people you love.

“Why are you here, Captain?” after you breathe steadily again, you notice it’s 1 am, and the aisle outside is silent.

“Just came back from the op, and want to see you.”

“You should have some rest, Price.”

“You mean I leave now even when you just woke up from a nightmare?” He crooks his eyebrows.

“Well...”

“Be selfish, love. I will stay here.”

“You don’t blame me for being too stupid and getting caught by the enemy?”

“Things went south sometimes.” He shakes his head “It’s not your fault.”

“...”

“Say it, luv.” He encourages you when you hesitate.

“I...” “I thought I was not afraid of anything... at least in that basement, pain’s not a big deal for me, starvation is bearable, and death... if that means I won’t lose to those dorks, then it’s nothing to me.”

Price gives you a grunt as acknowledgement, so you continue.

“but... I think I’m still afraid of dying...” You fidget your fingers “I want to see all of you again... I want to come back to you.”

“I don’t want to die...”

You haven’t noticed tears staining your cheeks until Price’s finger — calloused yet warm — wipes the tears away.

“We all know you’re brave, kid.” Price cups your face, hand barely touches your skin, must be avoiding trigger your pain, but you don’t care, nor you can feel the pain, you shove your cheek in it and earn a chuckle from the man.

“Your high pain tolerance makes you look forward to your target without worrying yourself, but keep in mind.”

“Don’t make us worry, you need to come back to us, we can’t lose you, just like you can lose us. Understood?”

“Yes, Capt.”

“You want to go back to sleep?”

“If you tell me a bedtime story, then I will.” the mischievous grin returns to your face.

“Greedy, eh? I thought those sharks could satisfy you.”

“I want your bedtime story too.”

“How about I tell you a story about how to become an attentive soldier?”

“Fuck you, Captain.”

You hit Price with the plushie, which he catches easily, and put it on his lap, letting you give the shark little punches to drain your excessive energy, as he starts telling what happened when he met Soap the first time.

You aren’t afraid of pain, and you become an undaunted person on the battlefield. Yet still, you now keep in mind that there are people who love you, and are worried about you.

You all are a team, a home, and a haven for each other, always by each other’s side, or waiting for others to return safely.

and it’s really nice to be able to come back home.

a/n: thanks for reading! and thank you sharkie for the request, I hope you will like it (or not too disappointed) !! :D

Have a nice day/night, everyone!

[tauforged]

if we assume warframes have some amount of biological function rather than being meat suits, it would only stand that in the process of becoming protoframes, the hex would not only change appearance-wise but the way their bodies FUNCTION would change as well as their behavior. I don't have solid ideas for everyone YET, BUT i'll elaborate on what i have so far below...

we don't have a lot of solid info about how cyte-09's kit would work, but being that he's a sniper-centric frame, it makes sense that quincy would start to subconsciously adapt to that 'ambush predator' function, in terms of behavior and also metabolism.

instinctually he feels safest/most comfortable when he's somewhere High Up and Isolated. he likes a vantage point, not much else to it. randomly feeling compelled to climb on top of shit and Perch even outside of patrols while just hanging out because it just feels more secure

bradymetabolic -- his 'natural' state is objectively slowed down in comparison to a normal human being, his resting heartrate is slow his body temp tends to be lower and he can go considerably longer in between meals if he isn't actively making an effort to eat on a schedule. his body is rewiring itself to be best suited towards finding a vantage point and lying in wait, staying as still as possible and expending as little energy as he can until the moment is just right.

HOWEVER, the moment something triggers him to act fast (usually in combat situations although its technically a 'prey response') his metabolism will kick into overdrive and he strikes FAST. for the brief period where he's active, heart rate and body temp shoot up and he burns through however much energy he's been storing in the interim. once the adrenaline wears off, though, he's back to business as usual. if he's in a high-energy situation for an extended amount of time, though, he runs the risk of exhausting himself, hyperventilating, or overheating.

tends to blink less than it seems like he should and picks up a habit of unintentionally holding his breath. trigger finger twitches unintentionally when he's focused on something/someone in a way that kinda resembles how dart frogs will tap their toes while hunting or how the raptors in jurassic park click their claws on the ground. develops and exaggerated freeze response -- when something startles him when he isnt expecting it, he goes completely stock still in an attempt to 'blend in' and wait out the threat.

on the opposite end, amir adopts a fucking hummingbird metabolism. he runs hot and fast and needs to eat a lot more than you would expect because his body is CONSTANTLY. GOING. he's somewhere int he middle between regular human and obligate nectar-eater -- he processes sugars WAY faster/easier than normal and is pretty dependent on them for energy in the immediate moment, although he does still have the capacity to store longer-lasting energy for later rather than having to eat every thirty minutes lest he starve to death. the more active he is, the more demand is on him, though and he is VERY fucking active. he's built to be on the move 24/7 now, and gets really antsy when 'at rest' because even when wholly idle his body burns energy like a motherfucker and it makes him restless. constantly craving sweet things because his body is demanding sugar NOW or we are going to DIE (this is not true, he's mostly being dramatic, but he DOES feel adverse effects from lack of food or water much sooner than he normally would)

can take short rests that are basically like power naps where he sleeps "normal", but when he actually Sleep sleeps he goes into a torpor state to preserve his energy, slowing down and dropping his body temp and it takes him between 20min to an hour to actually Wake Up completely. does not like doing this but while his body is meant to be constantly moving, his brain still runs on a human schedule and he Needs to get actual sleep. he needs to hard reboot every couple days or else he starts fighting demons. you know how it is.

aside from inconvenient desires to eat raw meat/random animals (imagining excal as an obligate carnivore just feels right), arthur isn't too METABOLICALLY different from the average human, but behaviorally he is fighting for his life. in contrast to quincy preferring open, elevated spaces, arthur is compelled to seek out dark tight enclosed spaces and hole up like a sick animal looking for a place to die (he's fine, but the way he's always stressing out crosses some wires in his brain and makes him Feel like he's dying)

you can tell when arthur and quincy have been getting on eachothers nerves or arguing because they will Immediately retreat to their respective territories to Sulk (quincy starts climbing on top of the stage light scaffolding, arthur is in the security office trying to find a dignified way to crawl under a table). it's objectively really funny to witness. they both do this when theyre in bad moods but when theyre BOTH doing it the chance of it being coincidence is very very low

both arthur and eleanor are VERY catlike, not really in a cutesy fun 'uwu nya' way, but in a 'bites people and knocks shit over and gets random bursts of energy at ungodly hours and feels compelled to chase things that move like prey' way . eleanor leans into this and does not care, she is biting you as a show of affection and you WILL accept that. arthur hates it and suppresses it at all times. catboy instincts calling to him like the green goblin mask 24/7

in tandem with the 'aoi's teeth are more like a squid beak and are dark in color because they're reinforced with metal' hc ive discussed before, i feel like she might feel the urge to try and Consume metallics somehow to feed that process. or maybe her constant melting down and playing with metal is how she assimilates it. not sure yet

i have not many ideas regarding trinity or lettie yet because i almost never play trin and dont have a good handle on how her kit would translate to biological functions LMFAOO im so sorry girl i love you so much but im still chewing on this one. welcome to ideas!

aaand of course, the conversation that started it all:

and the grand finale: bullying arthur

[countcvnt]

Experiment

Chapter Four: Stamina

[Poly!TF 141 x Fem!Reader]

[Ch. Three] [Ch. Five]

Summary: After a couple days of rest, you realize just how much stamina you have. You train with boys to get some energy out. Warnings: Descriptions of broken bones, mentions of blood, slight suggestive language Word Count: 3.3k A/N: This chapter isn't as sad. Next chapter will have light smut! I got the idea of the chapter link thing from @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries so thanks Ikea!! Hope it's alright tag you just for that lmao. Also I just learned how to do the side by side gifs yay!!

It’s been a couple days since your nap… Since your realization. Simon has only been more distant. You’re sitting in the training area, alone, when Soap and Gaz walk in.

"We got ye this!” Soap extends his hand. “It’s a radio!” You look up at him with confusion. “I ken it isnae a phone…”

“Hey,” You grab it, “it’s better than nothing. Now I can bother all of you all the time!”

“Actin’ more and more like yerself!” Soap hits you on the back. It catches you off guard how hard he hit you. You are fine, you aren’t going to bruise, but you can’t help but wonder if he’d always nudged or hit you so hard. “How come yer here by yerself?”

You shrug. “Simon was supposed to meet me here. Do some training. Guess he skipped out on me.”

Soap lights up. “I can help ye!” He seems excited.

“We both can, actually.” Gaz interjects.

You nod, lighting up. “Okay! I’d like that. I’ll be sure to go easy on the both of you.” You smile at them as you stand up. You already stretched earlier, ten minutes before Simon was supposed to come in. So, instead of doing that, you walk to the middle of the room and stand there, eagerly awaiting Soap and Gaz.

“Now,” Soap puts a hand up, “don’ think ye have to go easy on us.”

Gaz makes a face, “You haven’t seen her strength yet, have you?”

You laugh. “I’ll hold back a little bit…” You reassure him. “But, I don’t want either of you to hold back. I promise, I can take it. Trust me.”

You take a fighting stance, ready for them to come at you. Gaz and Soap look at each other. Gaz gives a gentle nod to Soap, one you assume you were not supposed to catch, and Soap takes off towards you. You plant your feet and prepare yourself for Soap hitting you. His rough hands grab you, and the both of you grapple for a moment. Your arms get free and instinctively wrap around Soap’s ribcage, and get behind him at a speed he was unsure was possible.

You easily bring him up and over you, suplexing him into the mat below you. You stand up straight and look down at Soap. He groans, the air has been knocked out of him. You smile at him and he motions for Gaz to move.

“Yer suppose’ to ger ‘er now.”

Gaz looks at you funny. “I don’t think I want to be thrown like that.”

“It’s kinda hot, actually,” Soap smiles at you once he seems to be breathing properly again. Your face heats up. You look at Soap with wide eyes. He sits up and rubs the back of his neck. “What did they give ye?”

You, still hung up on the ‘hot’ thing, shrug. “I dunno.” Your mind is racing. You need to do something other than rest or eat. You want to throw Soap around some more, but you can’t stop thinking about his comment.

“Look,” Gaz motions towards you, looking at Soap. “She’s in shock. Ya told her that was hot, and now she’s in shock.”

“Same old bonnie,” Soap stands up and smiles at you.

“Uh, that was very cathartic…” You shift your weight, “can we continue this… 'training’?”

“Cathartic? Throwing him around eased your mind?” Gaz looks at you with wide eyes.

You nod at him. “Yeah, I think it’d also be fun if you both ran at me!” You smile wide.

“Yer outnumbered,” Soap places a hand on your shoulder, “that isn’ fair.”

You cross your arms. “Johnny,” You narrow your eyes at him. “They wanted to test my reflexes before you got me out of there. They improved a lot more than my strength, I just wanna test something out…”

The both of them look at each other. “If ya say so.” Gaz responds.

You excitedly nod back and get in your fighting stance once more. “Remember,” You point at them, “do not go easy on me! Please.” You smile at them. You want to know what you’re capable of.

Gaz and Soap don’t say a word. Instead, Gaz runs at you. It's your turn to grapple with him. While you’re fighting with Gaz, you can feel Soap running at you. You tense and throw Gaz to the floor and immediately direct your attention onto Soap. His arms wrap around your waist and you're sent sailing over him. He effortlessly suplexes you into the mat and you groan.

Soap and Gaz are both standing over you, looking down at you and smiling. “Was that payback?” You ask, catching your breath.

“We’re even now.” Soap puts his hand out towards you.

You don’t hesitate to grab it. Soap easily pulls you up and Gaz steadies you as you stand. As you’re thanking them, the doors of the training room opens. The three of you turn towards the door and you perk up.

“You’re finally here!” Your eyes hit Simon’s.

“What do you mean? ‘Finally’?” He looks at the clock on the wall. “I said 12:30… it’s now 12:29.”

“Oh, I thought you said 1200…” You feel embarrassed now.

“You’ve been here since then, waiting?”

“She’s been throwin’ us around.” Gaz rubs the back of his neck.

Simon approaches you and looks down at you, “Good, you’ve been warming up.”

Your stomach flips at how he says that. His tone… He has not come to just mess around, you already know that much. He walks past you and towards the end of the mat. Soap, Gaz, and you stare at him. He motions for Soap and Gaz to move, and they do. You blink at him. You quickly take your ass to the other end of the mat and wait for Simon’s next move.

Simon does not say a word. Instead, he rushes you. He easily grabs you, turns you around, and is holding you close to him, his arms keeping you from moving. You let you an awkward laugh, “What the fuck?” Simon doesn’t say a word. Instead he shoves you forward. You do not miss a step. You turn back to him and rush towards him.

“Suplex him!” Gaz shouts from the sidelines. Him and Soap seem just as curious as you about your strength.

You can’t help but wonder if you could… You want to try it. Simon is a big boy, and you want to test your new found strength. The both of you circle each other and your fingers are wiggling, you’re looking for an opening. You end up moving faster than Simon can register. You wind up behind him and grab his waist.

Simon does not let you get further than that. His elbow rears back, and you realize you are at just the right angle to get hit just a tad too late. Simon’s elbow slams into your face, harder than he had expected it to, and a loud pop echoes through the training room. You let go of him immediately. You fall to the floor, warmth covering your face. You let out a low, primal growl ready to fucking obliterate Simon. You want to maul him. Something in you is about to snap. Until suddenly his words replay in your head. ‘I trust you.’

Simon would never intentionally hurt you. And when you look up at Simon, his eyes tell you he truly did not mean to hit you so hard. Your eyes cut towards Soap and Gaz, who are watching you with anticipation.

You inhale sharply through your mouth and snap your nose back into place, stopping the bleeding pretty quickly. You sit up and Ghost puts his hand towards you. “Come on,” He sounds like he’s trying to keep himself calm. “You need to go to the med bay.”

Your bloody hand reaches for him and you grab it. You, in the spur of the moment, decide now would be a good time to take advantage of the situation and as you pull yourself up, kick your leg out. It slams into Simon’s shin and he’s doubling over. You slam your body into his and slide across the mat. You straddle Simon and you're holding him down. You’re breathing heavily and watching him.

The look in his eyes tells you he had not expected that. “Don’t let your guard down.” You heave out, a dull pain pulsating through your nose.

Simon sits there a moment. You move to get up and look at Soap and Gaz, who are watching with wide eyes. As you stand, a hand grabs you and you’re flipped. Your back slams into the floor and the wind is knocked out of you. You gasp. Your eyes shoot open and Simon is crouching above you, his large, rough hand wrapped around your throat. You watch him, unblinking. Not breathing.

Simon lowers himself to your level. His eyes stay on yours. You swallow hard and inhale shakily as his lips hover over your ear. “Don’t let your guard down.” He whispers in your ear. He stands up and walks off from you. “Get her to the med bay.”

You lie on the floor. The door opens and closes as Simon leaves. You, still laying down, look over at Soap and Gaz. You try to process everything that just happened. They rush over to you and Gaz crouches beside you. You look at him, eyes still wide, brain still processing. Neither of them seem to have expected that.

“Gaz,” Soap looks off towards the door, “I’m gonna check on Ghost…”

“Okay, I’ll get her checked out.” Gaz nods at Soap. He places a hand on your shoulder and you sit up. Gaz helps you stand and you look at all the blood on the ground and your hands. You know it’s covering your face. “Come on, love, let’s go.”

You're sitting in an exam room, mostly cleaned up. You look at the monitor across the room from you, your eyes stuck on it. The IV pole is beside it. “Are they gonna hook me up?” You ask Gaz, your eyes not leaving the monitor.

“No, love,” Gaz grips your shoulder. “You just broke your nose. They have no need to hook you up to that.”

The doctor walks in as he finishes his sentence. She's a woman. You feel yourself relaxing a little bit. Her lab coat isn't doing you any favors though. All medical coats must be the same, all you can think about is the facility. You exhale slowly and grab Gaz’s hand. He gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I'm Doctor Johnson, I'll be checking on you, okay?” You can't tell if she used to know you or not. You nod at her. “What happened?”

“Well, I assume it all started when I was taken–”

“No, not that far back,” Gaz smiles at you.

“Oh, my bad.” You look at the doctor. “I was training with Lt. Ghost and we got a little too rough. Thankfully, I don't get hurt like normal people.” You say, kicking your feet off of the side of the exam bed.

Her face contorts. “Okay–” She drags out the word. “Is that from your…” She pauses. She knows. You nod. “Okay, Price should have brought you to me sooner.” She looks at Gaz and back at you. “Is it okay if he's in here?”

“Of course! I actually prefer it… him staying.”

Dr. Johnson nods. “That's fine, just wanna make sure.” She smiles at you softly. “Can I check your nose?” When you say yes, she approaches you. Her gloved hands gently touch the bridge of your nose. You don't flinch at her touches. She gently pushes it and it pops. Again, you don't flinch. “You can't feel that?”

“I mean, I know you're touching me. But it doesn't hurt, no.” You shake your head.

She hums. She checks inside and then looks at you. “Your nose, you broke it before.” She states it as fact. She knows you have.

“Well, actually, yes. At the facility, they broke it. They hit me with the butt of an assault rifle.”

Gaz’s drop on your hand tightens. You can see his whole body tense, his Adam's apple bobs. You say it so nonchalantly. He doesn't like it.

The doctor swallows hard. She seems stunned. She quickly gathers her thoughts and inhales through her nose. “May I ask what tests they ran on you?”

“Yes you may,” you reply sweetly. “But I can't tell you what they were. They never told me. I just know I'm quite literally built to take those types of blows and then some.”

“We could help you figure it out.” She suggests it. She isn't pushing you.

“No.” It's the first thing that comes from your mouth. “I'm already stressed enough sitting right here in front of you. I will not be hooked up to monitors, or poked with needles.” You stand your ground.

“It's okay,” Gaz calms you down. “We don't have to do that. Not right now.”

The doctor purses her lips, looking at Gaz. “It'd be good to know those things. It could help you.” She sounds so calming, genuinely trying to keep you from freaking out.

You do want to know what's up with you. But you don't want to put yourself in distress just to figure it out. You sigh. “Not right now.” You shake your head. “I need time to think about it.”

She nods at you. “That's fine. Your nose is completely fine. You're free to leave, if you'd like.”

You have never gotten up so fast in your life. You drag Gaz out of the room with you. He doesn't stumble once, but he does wince, causing you to realize how tightly you're holding onto him. You mumble an apology and let him go once you're out of the exam room. You stop in the hall and take everything in. The lights are bright and everything smells so… sterile. It's almost haunting.

“We can get out of here.”

“That sounds good.” The both of you begin to leave. “Do you wanna train again?” You ask him, cocking your head.

Gaz makes a gutteral noise, laughing. “After all that, you still wanna train?”

“Yes, it was nice. It was… relieving my stress. I still have a bunch of pent up energy.”

“We'll find you something to take that out on.” He leads you out of the med bay.

“After sleeping the last couple of nights, I've never felt better I don't think. I must have stamina for days. I feel like I could go at it forever.”

“Oh?” Gaz looks over his shoulder at you. “Forever? And what are you going at exactly?” His brow cocks.

Your face heats up. “Not like– That's not– In a sense–” You stumble on your words. “Fuck.” You want to bury your head in your hands.

“Oh, fuck?” Gaz smirks at you. “Really? I didn't know you were like that.” He nudges you with his elbow.

“Kyle, I'm going to die. I think I'm literally going to pass away.” You look at him with a pout.

“Sorry, love, you aren't getting out that easy. I think I have an idea on how to get your energy out though. We could always try the gym, or the track? There's a new recruit who beat the best time and I think– I know you can beat him.” He turns and grabs your shoulders. “I think it'd be really funny if you beat him.”

You smirk at him. “I'm an enhanced individual now. And you want me to beat some poor rookie’s best time on the track? You want me to destroy him?”

“Yes. Gotta keep the new guys in check. Plus, we can check that stamina of yours.”

You smile, “Okay!” You put a finger up, “But, I'm not doing it to pumble some guy's record. I'm doing it because I'm testing myself.”

“Hey, that's fine with me.” Gaz grabs your hand again. “Come on!”

You let out a laugh as Gaz drags you outside and towards the track. When you get outside there are several people stretching, getting ready to run. Most of them are men.

“Hey,” you look at Gaz, “do you think they'll be emotionally distraught if I outrun them?”

You sure hope so.

“Only one to find out.”

Gaz walks over to the track with you. You approach the group and they all look at you. Your grip tightens on Gaz’s hand and you smile awkwardly at them. Most of the people are new recruits. You are positive they don't know about your… predicament. You introduce yourself as Ace.

“Just came to run a little bit, burn some energy!” You release Gaz’s hand.

They don't seem to think much about it. You walk towards the track and ready yourself. The sergeant at the sidelines readies the group and you examine them. You're trying to pick out the fastest one. The one you want to beat. Or one Gaz wants you to beat.

“Three–”

Everyone is getting ready to run. You look at Gaz.

“Two–”

He motions towards a tall, slender man. You lock on.

“One!”

You take off. All of you take off. You know you're supposed to pace yourself when running. You watch everyone doing that, except one person. The one Gaz pointed out to you. You can feel Gaz watching you. You have an urge to show off for him. The urge to impress him is suddenly very strong. You don't fight it.

You take off. Your legs push you forward and quickly run by the man. You give him a smile as you run by him. He doesn't falter. He picks up his speed. So you do the same.

Before you know it you are speeding around the track. The man left in the dust. You reach the end of the mile and smile at Gaz. He's the only one you see. You don't notice everyone stopped and staring. The sergeant clicks his timer.

“Ace,” the sergeant waves you over. “You just beat the fastest time by three minutes…”

“What. The. Fuck!?” A scream echoes from behind you. “How did you do that?”

“Peter, calm down.”

“What the fuck,” He repeats himself, quieter this time. “That’s not possible… I did track for years! And you come up here out of nowhere–” His hands are in his hair. His eye on the ground.

Oh, he’s mad. You watch him closely. Gaz steps in between you and Peter. You feel butterflies in your stomach as he does that. Peter looks distraught.

“How did you do that?”

You aren't sure how much you can tell him. So you shrug.

“You don't know?” His eyes widened. “Did you do track at all? Have you ever even run in your life? You aren't even out of breath!”

“I don't know–”

“What does that mean?! You don't know? How does someone not know that?”

He's so fragile. He storms off. You look at Gaz and he turns his head towards you.

“Did I do okay?” You can't help but ask.

“Okay?” He asks you. “Love, that was amazing! You set a new record!”

“I wasn't even doing the best I could–” Your face is hot.

Gaz pulls you into a hug. He's proud of you. You don't immediately hug back, causing Gaz to pull away. You pull him back to you, keeping from crushing him. The last time you hugged one of them —intentionally— was when you hugged Simon two days ago. You hadn't realized how much you needed physical contact since then.

Gaz hugs back, his hand rubbing your back. It seems to be just as therapeutic for him.

“Okay,” the sergeant speaks up, “how did you do that?”

Gaz pulls away from you, and you look at the sergeant. You shrug. “I'm just that good, I guess.”

The sergeant narrows his eyes. He doesn't get a chance to say anything about it before your new radio goes off.

“Ace,” Price comes over the radio. “meet me at the barracks immediately, over.”

You groan. “Copy, over.”

He knows something. You grab Gaz's hand and begin back towards base. Gaz doesn't argue with you taking him with you. He does seem confused. But he holds your hand with no complaints, following you to the barracks.

Taglist:

@moonyinthestars @dory-98 @otto-s-alskling @aeilani @klutzy-kay24 @sher-ni @infpt-zylith @eustassh @kaoyamamegami @zoexme @reap3erslov3 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @cosmic-rich @bvxygriimes @waiting-so-long @mill7531

(tags are being weird again, i'm sorry if it didn't let me tag you... also think that's everyone? If i forgot you, just let me know I'll be sure to add you next chapter! I'm sorry im very forgetful and my list fills.. like it's missing someone)

[thatsatricky1]

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬

There are many things in life that others enjoy at a younger age much more than when they grow up. One of those things was seasonal holidays. Of course there are the most obvious ones that come to mind. New years, Easter, Halloween and Christmas.

Halloween was the time for little ones to explore creativity, dressing up as their favourite characters for the most part. They got to traverse the streets way past their scheduled bedtimes to go door to door in hopes of sweet treats getting dropped into their filling candy bags/buckets. Their parents rushing to get costumes or make homemade passable ones, watching their kids from the sidelines knocking on trusted neighbours doors and already thinking of the headaches they’d receive off their sugar high kids for the next couple of weeks.

Though as children start to grow up experiencing hardships and gruelling puberty Halloween turns into parties and hang outs. Costumes became more elaborate as their taste in media changed, no longer needing the help of their parents. For some Halloween has already become trivial and a past seasonal holiday they no longer participate in preferring to go about their mundane day or just putting on a quick horror flick.

Young adults indulging in the seasonal holiday, not for the childlike wonder it used to cause but as an excuse to party or celebrate only with the difference of wearing an outfit, a rare gem here and there but the main focus for most was to dress as elaborate as possible to catch the eye of others. Whether that be a goofy costume to get a laugh out of friends, or a sexy outfit to attract that one person they wanted most. Though for many, Halloween in that age range was already a long forgotten concept and not of importance with many other things in mind.

But just because you may not be indulging in Halloween it doesn’t mean Halloween won’t worm its way back into your life whether you want it to or not. Maybe just maybe you really should have paid attention to the rules of Halloween a little better, don’t you agree?

Y/n was no exception to time, growing up and growing out of her childlike wonder. Why focus on something like Halloween when she had deadlines to meet? A part time job that was really trying to push her boundaries on the ‘flexible shift times’ and going to university in an attempt of getting that one slip of paper that held hope for possible good jobs in the future.

She’d made it clear this year to each and every friend she wasn’t interested in being dragged to a Halloween frat party that was just another excuse for young adults to get drunk, high and forget about those stacking student loan debts and responsibilities looming. The closest thing she’d entertain was a quiet day in, a quick horror movie and then a well deserved nap.

So which one of her friends had decided to trick her on Halloween? She stared down at eight envelopes, each laying flat on her bedroom dresser in various colours. Each letter looked just as inviting to open, yet she picked the one closest that happened to be a crisp mundane white colour.

Grabbing her knife letter opener and slicing the top of the envelope clean open before dipping her index finger and thumb inwards, tugging out the lettered content inside.

Flicking it open and scanning the page she was met with very confusing context.

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝,

After all this time we were certain our intentions would have been clear to you by now, yet I think we must have overestimated ourselves in terms of how well we fitted in with your mundane life. Or to reword it a bit more bluntly, we toned down our true selves to be able to be near you.

However our patience only extends so far, we aren’t exactly known or fond of it. So in some maybe even sick way, why not do this around the time of year people decide to self indulge in the more thrilling seasonal event, Halloween. Quite ironic with the needed context.

Laid out on your desk are seven more envelopes, each varying in size and colour belonging to different individuals. All you need to do is pick one. Just one. And that in itself will give us our answer.

𝐒𝐃𝐒

Her hands were quick to close the letter, eyebrows furrowed in pure confusion. It lacked all and any context needed. Just words printed down on a clean sheet of paper. With a flick of her wrist, the letter was discarded, landing just an inch from the trash can below her desk.

Her eyes shifted now over to the seven unopened envelopes on her desk. Many questions flicking through her mind all at once. How had the anonymous sender known she’d pick up the white envelope to begin with? What would have happened if she’d opened up a coloured one? What will happen when she picks one envelope to open and read? Why only pick one?

Disregarding the hoard of questions, she held back a roll of her eyes considering just how dumb the whole situation was figuring she’d find out which one of her friends had done this soon enough when she read one of the letters in front of her. She reached her hand out, going off of pure instinct knowing exactly which envelope she wanted to open.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

Why not pick the Purple card? It was the obvious choice. It laid in the centre as if calling out, the better choice, the only choice. A perfect and neatly waxed seal right in the centre with lavender tucked underneath it, wafting a calming and relaxed scent into the air overpowering any other smell nearby. This was clearly the right one to choose.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

The Yellow card practically wanted to be opened, needed to be opened. It was meant for you and no one else. If only one could be opened it would be this one. A little too much golden wax around the seal proved that more was better. Two daisies nearly falling out of the envelope basically showed there were many more inside, all for you. The choice was already made the moment you laid eyes on the thick envelope.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

The Pink card called out, demanding attention, the delicious smell of floral scents hitting your nose just right in its delicate small pink pouch sitting at the corner on top of it. The waxed seal was messily like raw emotion stamped by its anonymous sender, drying before it could drip any further down the envelope. Picking this one was like breathing, you had to, it was just so tempting.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

The Green card, it should be the one you choose. None of them compared to this one, the leaves wrapping around the top so meticulously, leaves winding down to gently rest on top of the waxed seal that was perfectly circular with quite the curious choice of wording melted into it. It was supposed to be yours from the start, no one else’s.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

The Orange card looked enticing, a single flower tapped to the front of it as if a promise of what could lay inside considering it was thick, more flowers most likely waiting to be revealed. Even the waxed seal promised more and more, slightly overflowing from where it had been pressed too much wax having been used. And who were you to deny picking something with just that more involved inside.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

The Red card screamed, no demanded to be chosen. Rose petals flicked half hazardly underneath it, the waxed seal having been stamped with force, causing extra wax to be shoved outwards to the right side drying over the envelopes opening. A red silk bow laid on the bottom right corner whether an afterthought or meticulously placed there, it was loud and bold. Who were you not to give in to its demands, that was your card.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞

The Blue card laid out on the desk was much less noticeable than the others, less elaborate. The waxed seal having most likely been pressed with little force by the way the melted wax oozed dry on all corners and lifted too soon to completely seal the envelopes opening, two pieces of sticky tape randomly placed on each side to properly close it instead. So little thought put into it, but even with little effort it was the most preferred one. Choosing this one was as easy as blinking.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun @bluedbliss @haechansbbg @officiallyjaehyuns @bunnychui @audreybub @sleepyvic @winwintea

(This Taglist is used for all my nct context so if you’d like to be tagged in my nct content please comment or write to me to be added)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Y’all better be as excited as I am for this, I’m hoping to have this posted on time for Halloween fingers crossed.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

Tap

[pureshadough]

beast yeast 10 liveblog

Heard there's women in this one!

okayyyyy the beast raid being explicit canon is. innnnnteresting. Wonder if this suggests anything for the previous ones or no

light of passion voice HOLLYBERRY THE SHIELD IS A METAPHOR HOLLYBERRY WATCH OUT FOR THAT TRUCK BEHIDN YOU. SHE HAS HER [NIHILISM] IN SHE CANT HEAR US

Alright.

DIED 2020 BORN 2025 WELCOME BACK COOKIES WARS

YOU.

her korean voice is gorgeous but she's also seemingly voiced by Erica Mendez (white lily & black pearl's VA) in english which is. fucking hilarious

it is embarrassing how excited i am to see her here right now. I missed shadow milk cookie.

whuo in the Fuck is this referring to

THEY FUCKING HATE EACH OTHER!! YES YEEEEEESSSS FUUUUCK YESSSSS

So he just called it obsessive love per personal experience. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.

I'M *TELLING YOU* THEY'RE EXES

Girl we have a word for this and its called alcoholism

....oooooooooh that. Wow. Alright.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME

okay the fact it looks like there's vanillian pilgrims here is Terrifying?

Condensing my thoughts over a few levels down a bit just to talk about sugarfly. She's so mippy. really adore how they've explored the idea of a beast's minion defecting here and sugarfly as the subject being a character arguably representative of stockholm syndrome is such an interesting lens to view it through. Even when acting on the hollyberrians side it never seems like she really knows exactly what she wants or needs and knowing how thats rooted in depression long before she fell to sloth is a heavy hitter too. I really really like her. I think she might even usurp black sapphire as being my favorite minion and im not even done with the chapter yet LOL

a nap like this would fix me i think

sugar having this argument with hb right now and thinking God damn it if I let that clown prove himself right.

....Oh! That's a fucking awesome use of the requirement mechanic actually. Hell yeah.

HOW INCREDIBLY INTERESTING FOR SHADOW MILK TO BRING UP AND BE LOOKING FOR THIS EFFECTIVE APPLE OF EDEN WHEN SHE SHOWED UP EARLIER.

Wow! This is fucking Horrific!!!

Sugar is EXTREMELY EFFECTIVE at what she does. Sinking her teeth STRAIGHT into hollyberry's war trauma and framing every single hardship and loss as being in HER HANDS if she tries to leave her side. Legitimate textbook domestic psychological abuse tactics. Holy shit.

PITAYA MENTION 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

holly thinking of/hallucinating(?) white lily in this context is Fascinating in a way we don't have time to dissect rn but by god will i be thinking about it

i ADORE how talkative hollyberry and passion are!!!! it is genuinely such a fun window into how much her bonds matter to her decision making and state of mind such that it extends to her very own virtue. they surely have to talk with each other more than any of the other ancients do with theirs and it is delightful to read

I love her so fucking much.

i think we have a new winner of Worst Possible Fumble And Ensuing Crashout

yknow oomf kye made comment earlier that this might very well be the most explicit romance in the entire game period and it was Sort of a joke at the time but i think any room for doubt is completely eliminated at this point.

heart genuinely clenched reading this

aauasdksjhcgahgufuffbghfguaghkfbjhfgjfghfbhjbdgfafsdfgbjashfgdjhcbnasdhjasfd,

????!?!?!??!?!?!? ALRIGHT MAN! PUBERTY SPEED RUN!

So that was I think need a drink. Hollyberry needed a win for a LONG while now and this chapter has delivered in spades. This was so tightly packed and well executed that I think its usurped beast yeast 8 as being my favorite? No comments on that extra teaser scene with sugarfly here because I am straight up out of iamges and had to cut several joke comments from this post to keep it in limit as is but asauifgsdjhfSDFHJGSDFJKSDGSDGSFGB. FUCK. FUUUUUUCK. I am scared shitless of how this is all gonna wrap up and I WILL be seated.

[sellotaped-cookie-crumble]

Here are some more Puppy Recruiter because I don't know who else to write about!

Has a really bad staring problem. Like especially when little, he finds things so curious around him. So there is no surprise if he is caught staring at something for minutes, or even some people if he's in public.

He has no sense of danger at all! This pup needs to be under supervision at all times, because he will find a way to danger in no time. He will come back with a cut, a bruise. He may have hit himself in the head on accident, or burnt himself because he thought that his meal was cool enough. His carer has to constantly turn him the other direction to any possible hazard.

He's able to talk when small, and sometimes chooses to keep quiet. But when he does? He is the biggest whiner you have ever heard. He will pout, whine, and stare up at you until he gets his way. He whines when tired, hungry, needy, just woken up, fussy. He whines when he doesn't get his way, or doesn't feel his 100%.

Oh boy is this puppy cuddly! He will crawl into his owner's lap whenever the space is free. Especially when he needs a nap, he is basically glued onto carer. He wraps his whole body around them like they're a pillow, and he won't let go, no matter how warm it gets.

Extending on when he is in bed, he makes beds/ nests! It brings him more into his headspace, and they are always very comfy. Sometimes you walk into his room and all you see is all of his pillows and blankets on the floor, while he is in the middle of setting up his den, trying to make it perfect. No one is allowed to help him either, because they'll do it wrong. ):[

I don't think The Recruiter would like showering when in his pup space. It's always a hassle to get him into a bath and wash him. He's whining and sometimes howling. He gets especially fussy if the soap gets in his eyes and ears. He hates the sound of the foam popping in his ears, and it sometimes brings him to tears. But he likes feeling all clean afterwards, and finally getting to warm up in a blanket.

I'm not quite sure if he barks or not. I can see it, but on the other hand I can't. Maybe he barks occasionally, or when he is especially small. I don't think he would be loud about it though.

Why is it so hard to find pictures of him without a gun?!?! Bro he needs to stop having a weapon in his hand!!!

LOOK AT THE HAPPY LITTLE PUPPY AWWWWW HES JUST A LITTLE PUP WE LOVE HIM!!!

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me #8

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You embark upon 'a Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Word count: 6,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Ten days have passed since your home was blown to a million pieces. 

Ten days since you found out that there are multiple universes. 

Ten days since you learned that your universe—the world as you know it—has less than three months left before it implodes unless you can somehow find a way to save it… and yourself.

Despite the fantastical nature of those events, you find yourself returning back to your everyday life, just as mundane and ordinary as ever, cosmic murder attempts notwithstanding.

The helicopter crash was featured across the front page of The Times by morning, and apparently no one was hurt. The pilot had somehow been flung from the helicopter into a nearby window and miraculously survived without even a scratch. The only real casualty was your every worldly possession. 

After a personal calamity of that scale, you’d hoped you might be offered an extended leave from work. Unfortunately, corporate America stops for no tragedy. 

The only thing you're offered is a very sympathetic email the day after with a gift voucher for Dominos attached. Then Sally from HR had let you know that, given the severity of your situation, the company was generously granting you three whole personal days to sort out your affairs. After that you were requested to return to the office—the second quarter of the financial year was beginning soon after all. 

And so you find yourself back at work.

Back to 8+ hours a day spent sitting in your rickety office chair, killing your eyesight in front of your computer screen as you pore over excel sheets.  Back to the same old boring one-on-one meetings with your boss, who keeps harping on about Key Performance Indicators, as if they mean anything. You don’t understand what the point is. No matter how key your performance is, it never seems to be enough to net you a raise. 

“Our total revenue increased by 15% compared to last year, which is a significant achievement considering the challenges in the market, but I know we can do better if we just–”

You stifle a yawn, as you readjust yourself in your chair. It’s Monday morning, and you find yourself in one of the stale meeting rooms, with staler treats that you’re not even allowed to have because they are for external clients only. Your boss is right next to you, droning on and on about how she wants to see better results in the next fiscal quarter. All the while you’re trying to fight the losing odds of keeping your eyes open and the temptation of gravity that wants your head to lay down on the conference table for an impromptu nap.  

“We managed to improve our profit margin by 3% by reducing overhead costs, but we need to focus on further optimizing our operations in order to–”

Out of nowhere, the sound of her shrill nasal voice stops, and for a second you think that perhaps, sweet mercies of mercies, the meeting is finally over. But instead she points out the window and says the last thing you expect. 

“Hey, isn’t that Spiderman?” 

Huh?

You whip your head around to stare out the window so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash, and the sight that greets you is nearly enough to give you a heart attack on the spot. 

Oh, it’s Spiderman alright. Your Spiderman. 

Your maybe-vampire-but-maybe-not (he hasn’t combusted in sunlight yet, but then again he wears a full-body spandex suit) Spiderman.

Your Spiderman is right there in front of you in plain sight on the outside of the building, plastered to the wide wall-to-wall meeting room window. That dark blue super suit with the angry red spider emblazoned on his chest like a neon sign screaming: ‘Here I am!’ 

Your boss skips closer to the window in giddy excitement, until the two of them are only about a feet away from each other separated by a half an inch of glass.

“Look, his suit is different! I wonder if it’s an upgrade?” she exclaims, tilting her head to study him from the window. “He sure is a lot bigger in person, isn’t he?” 

You feel the blood drain from your face, and the whole of your back breaks out in cold clammy sweat against your blouse. Doing your best to act normal, you force yourself to stay seated in your chair despite the shrill scream ringing in your head and the way your heart is threatening to leap right out of your throat. 

What the hell does he think he’s doing!?

Thank fuck your boss still has her back to you, too enthralled by the unexpected superhero sighting to pay attention to anything else. You take advantage of her distraction to gesture frantically at Miguel, waving him away with as covert of a shooing motion as you can manage and praying that he’ll take the hint.

You know he sees you because the triangular outlines of his eyes narrow into annoyed slits and then he turns his face away as if offended, refusing to look at you. But at least he finally moves, leaping into the air and disappearing out of the sight of the window. 

“Oh, shoot! There he goes again,” your boss says, letting out a long, loud sigh as if even she doesn’t want to go back to listening to her own voice for the rest of this meeting. “Well, back to work. Guess that was the excitement for the day.”

Scratch what you were saying before. There are no more completely mundane days. Not now that Miguel O’Hara has entered your life. 

Once upon a time, your biggest dilemma with him was that he was avoiding you, refusing all your attempts to force a face-to-face meeting. Now you find yourself in the strange position of having the opposite problem.

True to his promise, Miguel is always there to protect you. 

In fact, he’s just plain always there. 

Never more than 10 feet away, regardless of where you go. He’s the last thing you see… or rather, hear before you go to sleep, his incessant snoring reverberating off the walls of your shared hotel room. Then, when you wake, it’s to his big 6’9” frame draped across the tiny velvet sofa, his long legs sticking off the end and hanging out into the room. 

Miguel hovers over you when you eat, in case you get another piece of toast stuck in your throat and he needs to do the Heimlich maneuver on you again. Or, like that one time last week, in case you developed another hitherto completely undiscovered food allergy and have to be rushed to the ER. He is constantly on alert, eyes glued to you at all times.

Miguel comes with you when you go grocery shopping at the corner bodega. Sticking close to your back in the cramped aisles, lest one of the shelves fall over and bury you under crates of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops… again.  He has a sneaky habit of covertly dropping the most nutritiously questionable grocery items in your basket: jellied donuts, sugar-frosted pop tarts, fun dip and jolly ranchers. He eats like a five year old who has too much pocket money and no understanding of the food pyramid. It’s worrying to watch and you definitely google diabetes risk for spiders at least once, but the internet has nothing helpful to offer on that front.

Even when you’re relaxing in the luxury hotel suite that’s become your home, flipping through Tik Tok-edits on your iPhone (the newest model, which Lyla snagged for you!) or catching up on Netflix, Miguel is always right there. Not two steps away from you, looking over your shoulder. 

Being the constant center of Miguel's attention is… disconcerting. You know it’s because he’s watching for the next random disaster to strike, but having his eyes on you nonstop leaves you feeling uncomfortably aware of him all the time. Especially when you’re trying to watch Bridgerton on your new macbook pro (also courtesy Lyla) and an R-rated scene comes on. You’ve resorted to having Lyla order books and magazines for him in an attempt to keep him occupied, but it doesn’t seem to make much difference.

It’s so bad that you can barely go to the bathroom without Miguel guarding the door like a zealous German Shepherd, his back plastered to the nearest wall when you emerge. You try not to let the lack of privacy bother you… or to think about the fact that his spidey-supersenses probably let him hear everything.

The only place Miguel doesn’t come with you is when you go to work, because he doesn’t have the clearance needed to get into the building—tourists and non-personnel aren’t allowed any further than the lobby. It doesn’t stop him from climbing the walls of the building and hanging around outside the 44th floor though. You know he’s there because, you see his shadow blurring at the window whenever you get up to get more coffee or unstick the paper jammed in the printer. 

It’s an adjustment, but for all the madness that comes with the package, having Miguel around does make you feel safe. 

Time always seems to pass too quickly when there’s a deadline approaching. 

The problem is that right now the due it’s not the date of a school assignment or some work project that you’re worrying about. And if you take too long, the consequences will be much worse than a lower grade or a slap on the wrist. If you fail to meet this deadline, it will be the end of the world—not just as you know it, but for everyone in your entire universe.

A week ago you had been dauntless, facing Miguel down across the table at Starbucks and announcing that you intended to fight cosmically impossible odds in order to live. Bold even, when you’d confidently declared that the only thing you needed was three months and his protection from the universe's murder attempts to make that happen.

In retrospect, you might have been less dauntless and more… delusional, because so far the only real progress you've made is drawing up a Master Plan, complete with a bullet point list and no idea if any of it is actually going to accomplish anything.

'A Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Step 1: Personal history:

Identify past wrongdoings

Determine if they could explain cosmic retaliation

Step 2: Analyze incident patterns:

Study recurring near death incidents

Identify commonalities and patterns

Determine strategies to stop or prevent future occurrences

Step 3: Research genealogy:

Explore family history

Investigate any ancestors who may have incurred celestial grudges

Determine if these grudges extend to descendants

Step 4: Examine past life wrongdoings:

Establish if reincarnation is real

Investigate potential past life transgressions

Assess if they correlate with current cosmic retaliation

Step 5: Seek cosmic expert assistance:

Consider approaching Dr. Strange for guidance

Request expertise in understanding cosmic phenomena

Things had started out okay. 

You completed Step 1 in less than a day, quickly compiling a list of all the people you’d wronged in your lifetime. Anything that might make the universe want to intervene on their behalf and dole out some karma against you.

So far, your life's most egregious crimes include:

That time when you wet the bed during a sleepover when you were six and blamed it on your friend Sally Jenkins.

The night you bailed out in the middle of a date with a dentist from Tinder who insisted on ordering for you and kept talking about Alpha and Betas. (It was only after a very confusing and awkward conversation that you realized he was not talking about the omegaverse). You’re pretty sure you did both of you a favor when you told him you were going to use the bathroom before dessert and took off without saying goodbye instead.

That summer you brought only chocolate with coconut back to share with your coworkers after your vacation in Canada so that Matt in accounting (who always steals your yogurt out of the office fridge) couldn’t have any because he's allergic to coconut.

Are those the actions of a good person? Probably not. 

Are they petty? Oh yeah. 

Are they bad enough to justify karmic retaliation from the universe in the form of death? You doubt it.

As for Step 2, despite all the near death experiences you've had recently, there doesn’t seem to be any discernible pattern that could help you predict or prevent future incidents. After all it’s a bit difficult to predict that an impromptu mounted police parade would take place near your office, only for there to be a wild stampede of panicky horses that tried to mow you over. 

Step 3 of your plan? Another dud. 

Your family line is made up of uncles working blue-collar jobs at warehouses, aunties who pester you about being single, one grandfather who likes to talk about how things were better in the old days and a grandmother who likes to complain that you never call every time you call her (and another grandma you actually like because she feeds you sweets and cakes when you go visit).

There are no skeletons hidden in your family closet. Nothing interesting at all except maybe that one cousin who claims to have hooked up with Leonardo Di Caprio at Coachella (unverifiable and unlikely).

Your mission to try to figure out if all of this is caused by any past life connections in Step 4? 

It had seemed like a reasonable thing to look into, but how the heck do you go about doing that? You’ve put it on hold for now.

As for the final step? Your search to seek out cosmic expert assistance is still ongoing.

Contacting another Supe that has a magical expertise in the cosmic should be the most logical avenue. Doctor Strange is the superhero that famously deals with the magical cosmos stuff, so you figured maybe he could help in some way. That it wouldn't be hard for Miguel to reach out to him, one superhero to another.

It’s the one part of your plan you could actually take action on that seems like it might lead somewhere. Problem is, you've run into a big sassy roadblock named Miguel O'Hara. 

Miguel flatly refuses to have anything to do with Dr. Strange. 

His justification? 

"Hate that guy."

Repeatedly pestering him has gotten you nowhere, and it’s not like you, a random normie, can just rock up outside of Dr. Strange’s residence and ask for help because the universe is out to get you. That’s a good way to get yourself hauled away, like that guy from Colorado who was in the news last year for faking a UFO invasion with cheap props on YouTube and then camping out outside of Bruce Banner’s lab. Idiots like that show up from time to time, Superhero fanatics seeking the attention of the Avengers for some fake emergency.

Worst comes to worst, you could probably just stand outside Doctor Strange’s house until something tries to kill you again and hope that he’ll notice, but you’re not sure the universe won’t thwart you on purpose. Probably not the best use of your limited time, especially since you’re out of PTO. 

For now, you’re hoping to change Miguel’s mind through sheer persistence, but given how stubborn the man is, that might be more of a lost cause than trying to thwart the universe itself. 

It’s payday today, and you’ve decided to take Miguel to dinner in Chinatown as thanks for the man’s continuous efforts in saving your life.

As touristy as that area can be, there are some good, cheap diners owned by grumpy Cantonese families that serve large enough portions to feed this horse of a man.

It’s not entirely selfless. You’re tired of being cooped up in the hotel room as soon as you get off work, and you want to stretch your legs. You’re also hoping that stuffing Miguel full of food will make him more receptive to the next round of your arguments in favor of Step 5 of your Cosmic Masterplan. 

But you’ve been here for two hours now, and you’re not sure Miguel knows the meaning of the word full. 

He’s ordered egg tarts by the dozen. Crispy fried seafood noodles drenched in sweet cornstarch slurry. Deep fried turnip cakes soaked in sweet soy sauce. Beef Ho Fun. Every other dish is deep fried and slathered in XO sauce, and you are starting to be genuinely concerned about his cardiovascular health as you watch him shovel it down his maw, barely pausing to chew as he goes.

At least he looks happy while eating? Endearingly so. It’s the only time you’ve seen him relaxed and finally drop his guard a little bit, though you’re sure he’s still aware of every minute detail in his surroundings. You decide it’s better not to say anything since scolding him about being a glutton would be like the pot name calling the kettle. Your wolfish food habits is a shared hobby you have with Miguel at this point. 

“What’s wrong with the egg tarts?” you ask, eyeing the plate that lies still untouched on the table, the only food to have escaped Miguel’s massacre. Given how sweet they are, you would have expected him to inhale them within seconds. 

“I ordered them for you,” he says, not slowing down as he spears more food onto his plate. “Your favorite, right?” 

You nod slowly and reach for one, touched by the gesture but not sure what to say. 

There’s a fleck of sauce smudged on his cheek, a stray rice grain on his nose. He looks like any other civilian as he scarfs down the food in quick succession.

Out of his super suit, he looks different. He’s partial to oversized clothes that makes him look oddly gangly even with his build. You’ve caught him with glasses on more than once, even though you’re pretty sure he’s mentioned that supersight is one of the things he’s gifted with. You can’t help but wonder if he wears them out of a sense of habit or if it’s a conscious fashion choice. Probably the former, given what you’ve seen him wear so far—fashion doesn’t seem to be one of his fortes. All in all, it makes him look like a much homelier person with a slightly nerdy vibe than the handsome superhero when he’s on the job.

He’s softer without the supersuit. Still scowling, but it’s less intimidating when he’s doing it wearing a big hoodie with dumb logos printed across his chest. 

It’s still odd seeing Rude Spiderman in these domestic settings, but you think you prefer him like this.

“How’s your plan coming along?” he asks, mouth full of fried rice as he’s already reaching for a piece of char siu. 

Of course, he has to ask you a question just as you bite into sweet and creamy egg custard. 

“I’m kind of stuck,” you admit, the words muffled slightly by the pastry in your mouth. “I think we need to talk about reaching out to Dr. Strange.”

“No.” He doesn’t even bother to stop eating, still chewing with a gusto as the word emerges.

Nothing more than that. No reasons or explanation given, just ‘No.’ 

Irritation brews in your chest at his unhelpfulness. He’s throwing a monkey wrench into your cosmic survival masterplan, and he won’t even tell you why. 

Too busy stuffing his face with crispy wontons. 

“But why? He’s the only Avenger with an expertise in cosmic magic!”

“Expertise, my ass,” he retorts. 

“Why do you hate him so much?”  You slide the plate of roasted duck across the table, away from him, and that finally makes him pay proper attention. 

Miguel is doing that scowling thing again, first at you and then dropping his gaze to glaring down at his rice and chopstick like he’s about to stab it. 

“Because he’s an idiot. “Doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Gives terrible advice.” 

“He was one of the world’s leading brain surgeons,” you huff. “I don’t think he’s an idiot, Miguel.”

Miguel leans over the table, sliding the plate back closer to where he’s seated. 

“Being handy with a scalpel isn’t a transferable skill to the supernatural. And he wears a cape. Only idiots wear capes.”

“Wait, what? You don’t like him because he wears a cape!?” you spit out incredulously. You don’t understand this man’s logic sometimes.

“Capes are impractical. Get snagged everywhere. No superhero worth the name would wear one,” he explain as if this alone perfectly justifies hating someone. He stabs a piece of meat with his chopstick and brings it to his mouth. “I will never ask that man for help again.”

Then he inhales the rest of the plate of roasted duck. 

You leave the restaurant frustrated. 

Miguel’s stubbornness remains as immovable as stone, and this big red and blue boulder has left you stuck at a dead end roadblock in the middle of a street, one you don’t know how to get around. He won't agree to talk to Strange, and you don’t know what else to do.

You need divine inspiration, or failing that maybe just… a hint. Something to tell you what direction to go in. Some kind of a sign.

Deep in thought, you turn round a corner, barely noticing how the alley narrows as you keep walking forward.  It’s not until a pile of crates in front blocks your path, forcing you to stop dead in your tracks that you lift your head to survey your surroundings. 

You and Miguel are at a small alley that you don’t recognize, which is weird because you know this area like the back of your hand. Somewhere along the way you must’ve taken a wrong turn.

Just ahead of you, there's a red stall set up on the sidewalk surrounding a small rickety table with red cloth draped over it, a couple of folding chairs set up in front.

Above it is… a giant sign. Fortune Teller, it says. 

Not quite the metaphorical sign you were asking for a few minutes ago, but maybe the universe has given up on subtlety for today. Hey, at least it’s not trying to kill you… unless fortune teller assassins are a thing. Shit, is the universe resorting to baiting traps now? You really hope it doesn’t start setting out poisoned cookies on window sills, because then it will be game over for you and Miguel both. 

You look the stall over, noticing that there are no crystal balls. No tarot cards. No trinkets or ancient scrolls like the ones you see in the movies.

There’s just an old lady. Her head is cleanly shaven, shining slick under the sole street lamp in the alley. She’s wearing a thick robe with a blue shawl draped over her shoulders that seems much too warm for the current weather, and cheap oversized sunglasses perch on her small nose despite it being evening. That outfit is certainly a choice.

Maybe you should be more cautious, but what harm can it do at this point?

The fortune teller certainly looks harmless and frail with her big round cheeks, sitting on a small stool. Even though she looks nothing like her, she makes you think of your grandmother—the one you actually like to call. The grandma who always has cookies stashed away for you when you come to visit.

Maybe she can give you a reading of who you were in your past life.

Maybe she can give you a protection amulet to make the universe chill the fuck out for a while.

Maybe she can burn some incense that will make you relax and get rid of the migraine you've gotten since the universe decided to murder you.

"Miguel." You tug at the lapel of his jacket, and point in the direction of the sign.

He turns around, scanning the space and then his eyes narrow disapprovingly.

"Fortune… teller,” Miguel reads off the sign in a slow skeptic drawl. He doesn't need to say more to express his complete and utter disdain, but that doesn’t stop him.

"You know it's all a scam right? People like this can't actually tell the future. They have no supernatural powers. What they do is cold reading."

It’s entirely unsurprising Miguel doesn't like the idea. There are a lot of things Miguel doesn’t like.

"What else do you propose we do?"

"Ask someone with actual skills who can help us?"

"You were the one who shot down the idea of asking Doctor Strange for help," you remind him.

"I don’t want his help," Miguel shoots back, grimacing as though the mere mention of the name is enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yeah, so you keep telling me." You continue on to the stall, despite your companion's strong protests.

The sweet old lady greets you as you sit down at the table. She looks even weirder from up close, her bald head abnormally large for her small body. You try not to stare, not wanting to make her self-conscious, but you can’t help but wonder how gravity keeps her head upright. 

“Fifty dollars,” she announces the moment you take a seat. 

Fifty bucks to get your fortune read!? Talk about highway robbery! You could get seven overpriced Spiderman cookies for that. 

“That’s too much.” You shake your head, rising from your seat. 

“Okay, okay. I can do cheaper,” the woman immediately concedes, looking nervous at your sudden outburst, and you have to bite back a smile. 

That was easy. 

“How much cheaper?” you ask. You know how this game is played. 

“Twenty?”

If she’s willing to drop the price from fifty to twenty that easily, you can definitely get her to go lower. 

“Ten.” You cross your arms where you stand, making no move to sit down.

“Are you really haggling over this? You were the one who wanted to do this, and now you’re going to cheap out over ten bucks!?” Miguel says from behind you, but you ignore him. It’s enough to have him there looming over the lady as you stare her down, taking a note out of his intimidation tactic book. 

“Some of us aren’t made out of money, Miguel–” 

“Fine! Ten, I’ll do it for ten,” the lady says over the top of your arguing. 

She’s skittish in the sudden silence that follows, looking over her shoulder to her left and right, as if she’s checking if your loud outbursts have attracted any attention.

Seemingly reassured that there’s only the three of you here, she gestures for you to sit back down and then tilts her head towards you. 

From behind her sunglasses, you can see that her eyes are clouded white from glaucoma, but when she raises her gaze to give Miguel an appraising look from head to toe, it’s obvious that she’s still able to see.  

“Your husband is tall.”

You see Miguel go rigid out the corner of your eye and chance a quick glance up at him. His sour expression hasn’t changed but you can tell he’s uncomfortable from the way his fingers are gripping the fabric of his hoodie where the chain holding his ring is hiding underneath the layers of clothing.

"Can you do a past life reading?" you ask instead, trying to steer the conversation away from anything that might inflict further painful reminders upon him. "I want to know if I could have attracted bad karma in my past lives."

“No such thing,” she says bluntly, shaking her head, "You have no past life. Reincarnation is not real."

That’s step 4 taken care of, you think to yourself, and you think you hear Miguel choke back a laugh behind you. You’re not thrilled that he’s having fun at your expense, but at least he’s not sad anymore. 

"Uh… okay…" You try to think of what else was on your list. "Then can I buy a protection amulet or something? I've had really bad luck lately."

The old granny looks you over appraisingly, eyes traveling from the top of your head as far down as she can see before the table top gets in the way, and her benign and friendly smile fades as she does. 

"No," she says, eyes wrinkling with worry. "An amulet is of no use to you. Just a waste of money."

Oh wow, grandma is really dissing you right now.

She gestures her hand in a come hither motion to get you to lean down, and then pulls out a paper and pen and starts to draw an uneven circle with thick, crude lines.

"See here?" she says as she loops the circle closed, "This is all of us, our world" 

Miguel is suddenly right next to you, hunching down and bent over the small table. You don’t know when he managed to sneak up on you, but he’s right there, so close his shoulder is brushing up against yours. 

The fortune teller moves her pen inside the circle to draw a much smaller one, then a forked line sticking out of it, and another line across the center of that one. It’s so crudely drawn it takes you a second to realize it’s a stick figure. 

"This is you," she points at it with a pen, seeming to admire her own creation.

Next to you, Miguel is staring down at the childish drawing with his hands crossed against his chest in irritation, his right eyelid is twitching. He looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

Even though he’s not saying a word, you swear you can almost hear his inner monologue, protesting the lady’s poor handmanship and drawing skills. He doesn’t need to say it but even $10 is too much of a price to pay, even for a man with infinity dollars.

Seemingly oblivious to Miguel’s irritation, the fortune teller proceeds to draw angry darts from inside the circle aimed at the poor you stick figure. Pressing so hard with her pen that the ink bleeds into the paper and the darts are starting to look like daggers. You almost wince when you see a couple of them pierce through your stick figure. “Outside interference has brought bad luck to you. It will never go away; it will follow you forever.”

You peer down at the paper with a sense of unease. Aren’t scam fortune tellers supposed to tell you what you want to hear? Where are the reassuring lies? Shouldn’t she be telling you that you’re going to meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger? Or that you were a princess in a past life? Since when do they tell you that you’re doomed to die over and over?

“So what am I supposed to do?” you ask. 

“Keep moving,” she says with an unfaltering smile as if she hasn’t given you the most grim fortune telling of all time. 

You lean back in your seat deflated. Scam or not, the prognosis isn’t looking good for you right now. 

The lady ducks under her desk, and is sorting through a pile of junk paper, before she pops back up again. She shoves something into your hands, and leans over to you with a piercing gaze in her milky-white eyes. “The man who will help you lives here.”

Hope sparks bright in your chest at her words. Finally, a lead! Someone who can help you! You can’t believe your random decision to stop has given you the first clue that might actually lead somewhere!

You look down at what she’s given you. It's a pamphlet map of New York. Yellow and bright, the title reads: ‘Star Maps of Celebrity Homes.’ One of those cheap plastic ones they hand out with the tour buses. 

The hope that had been building in your chest deflates, popping like a cheap balloon. 

You make yourself scan the tacky star map for any clues as to who she means, but you you don’t see anything to lift you out of your disappointment. As much as you love Robert De Niro and Whoopi Goldberg and would love to get their autographs, you don’t think any of the people on this map are in any position to help you. 

You sigh. 

Ok, maybe Miguel was right. The fortune teller was a bust. What a waste of money. 

From behind you, you can already hear the rustle of movement from him, as he’s stepping away. 

“Come on, Cielito,” he says as he nods his head in the direction towards the exit of the alley.

The fortune teller grabs your hands in hers, as she leans in closer to your ear and whispers, as if trying to be out of earshot of Miguel. “Be careful with that one. He’s not from around here.”

Back at the hotel, you plop down on the ridiculously wide and fluffy bed, but not even the luxury of your surroundings can lift your spirits. You’re still uncomfortably full from dinner. The overload of delicious egg tarts sit like lead in your stomach, weighing you down. 

Wasn’t there a Swedish king at some point who ate too many sweet buns and died of a burst stomach? Wouldn’t it be ironic if, after all the calamity and disasters you’ve escaped, your gluttony was the thing that ended you? You don’t think anyone who knows you would be surprised to read ‘died from eating too many egg tarts’ in your obituary. It’s perfect. A stupid and meaningless death to match your stupid and meaningless life. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Miguel drag off his hoodie over his head. You squint your eyes, pretending not to look as the tan skin of his firm muscled back is revealed to you before he pulls on a tight-fitting white t-shirt that pulls taut against his chest.

The free peep show usually makes excitement and heat thrill through your spine, but tonight it does nothing. You feel… oddly numb. 

The lights go off with a gentle click, and then you are left by yourself in darkness with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

You don’t know what to do. The fortune teller had been as stupid and pointless as every other idea you’ve had. 

You grit your teeth, sighing as you turn restlessly onto your side in the bed, stretching out your leg to make yourself more comfortable, hoping sleep will claim you so that you can stop these thoughts from running on a constant loop on your brain like the world’s shittiest radio channel. 

God, you can’t believe you spent $10 dollars on that fortune teller, and got nothing to show for it except a crappy map meant for gullible tourists. 

What are you going to do if you’re too stupid to think of any other ideas? Your skin crawls at the thought, a tangle of worry sitting in the pit of your stomach, climbing upwards and trying to burst out of your chest. You roll over, but it only seems to get worse. 

Are you just going to wait out your time like a sitting duck? 

You twist your body, squeezing your eyes shut. The thoughts won’t stop. 

Are you just going to sit here doing nothing? 

Are you going to di–

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeech.

The loud noise startles you, and you freeze, suddenly aware of just how vulnerable you are with only the sheets and comforter for protection. 

Oh god, what is trying to kill you this time? 

Your eyes are wide open with a strain, staring off into the darkness like a deer in the headlights as you listen to the sound of something sharp scraping against the wooden floor.

It’s coming closer. 

Fuck. Is it an assassin? Some kind of otherworldly monster that’s come to drag you to hell with it? 

And where is Miguel? Why isn’t he stopping it!? 

Maybe he’s gone, a cruel voice whispers in your head. Maybe he’s had enough. Maybe he sees what you don’t want to—the futility of what you’re trying to do. Running around like a headless chicken trying to find a way out of the grand cosmic slaughterhouse that is set on ending your life. Maybe he’s given up on you. 

Maybe you need to give up too. 

You’re too scared to risk making noise, but you can’t not do anything. You turn as soundlessly as you can in bed, rolling towards Miguel—hoping with all your might that he’ll still be there to save you—only to be greeted by the sight of his back closer than you expect, hunched over the lounge chair as he drags it towards the bed, the metal legs scraping against the floor, making the very sound that had just scared you half to death. 

You dart upright in the bed, outraged.

“What are you doing!?”

Miguel looks back at you, then down at the chair he’s moving, and then back up at you with that blank expression on his face. 

“Moving this?” He sits down on the lounge chair that’s now next to your bed, “I heard you tossing and turning. Thought you couldn’t sleep.” 

There’s a pause as he peers at you in the darkness, then he rubs his hand at the back of his neck.

 “Shit, did the noise scare you? Sorry, Cielito.”

There’s that nickname again. You don’t remember when it started or where it came from, but it’s something he’s been calling you more and more often. He’s wearing a wrinkly oversized t-shirt and a sheepish expression as he’s eyeing you, making sure you’re okay. It’s almost, nearly endearing. 

“Why do you keep calling me Cielito?” you ask. “Is that what you used to call other me?”

“No, I didn’t call her that.” He shakes his head, the same aching longing in his eyes that’s always there at the mention of your other self. “I called her Nena.” 

“Then why Cielito?”

He tilts his head down at you as if the answer is obvious, and then he breaks out into a small smile. “Because you keep falling through the sky.”

You stare at him in silence for a second, at the goofy looking grin he’s wearing.  He looks so proud of himself and his silly dad joke that you can’t help but smile back, laughter bubbling up and out of your chest. His smile just gets bigger.

What a dork.

You lay back down in bed, still tittering with laughter, and there’s a comforting weight that rests on top of your head for a brief moment. It’s his hand. The touch is pleasant, his palm warm against your skin, and the comfort of it erases the last trace of residual alarm in your body. 

“Just go to sleep already." The words are impatient, but his voice is gentle, and it makes your chest warm as he continues, “It’s okay. You don't have to worry. I won't let anything happen to you.”

He hasn’t given up on you. 

His words drip through your insides and warms you from inside out. It’s comforting, the way a blanket feels wrapped around you in the winter when your heating is out. He sounds so confident when he says them. Like there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll survive this, because he will personally see to it. The anxious chatter in your mind finally quiets, and you close your eyes, knowing he’s only an arm’s length away. 

Somehow, with Miguel here, the impossible odds you’re up against don’t seem quite so impossible, and hope buzzes pleasantly in your chest as you drift off to sleep. It's the best sleep you've had in a long time.

~ Next Issue

Credits & Dedication: Love a thousand and million years for @thirstworldproblemss who had to finely comb over and beta-read and edit this chapter over and over and rubber duck i with me while I was fixing up the details. I hope that I get to write with her til I go old and grey and senile, because it is the most wonderful joy and experience and I love her so.

This chapter is also dedicated to the wonderful and talented @forwantofwill who was endlessly kind in doing this amazing, beautiful piece of art of Miguel eating cookies in the windowsill Thank you so so much for making this and gifting me not just with your immense talent but also your time!

For those of you who haven't yet please follow her! She's amazingly talented and have such a wonderful blog filled with gorgeous and amazing fanart!

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

[madi-writes-things]

Francesca Pt. 1

Summary:

It broke Schlatt when he had to let Y/N go, But he would go through hell a thousand times if it meant he got to hold her again.

“If I could hold you for a minute… I’d go through it again.”

Word Count: 1.09 K

TW: Mental Illness, angst, ocd, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, break up, pining, feelings of worthlessness, basically a self insert without a physical description, Based in Texas… because so am I

A/N: I’m totally ok, and definitely not scared of my mental illness… 👀

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

My bags are packed before Jay gets home. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be. I should probably leave before he gets here, but he deserves an explanation. I’m not really sure what to say when he gets here, but he doesn’t deserve to be ghosted…

When the door opens I regret my decision to stay. He’s holding an H-E-B bag with frozen pizzas and ranch.

My favorite.

The second he locks eyes with me I break down. The bag falls from his hand as he rushes to pull me into a hug.

“What’s wrong pumpkin? What happened?” His voice is filled love and tenderness, very different from his online persona. It makes me cry harder.

“I can’t do this Jay… I-” He pulls me impossibly closer, mumbling a quiet ‘don’t do this’. “I already packed everything into my car. I can’t ask you to stay, I wouldn’t do that to you…”

He knows that I’ve been struggling lately, but I would never ask him to understand the extent of my anguish. I could never tell him about my hours spent researching. The notes. The fear of being alone with myself.

All I’ve ever wanted is to marry the man of my dreams, and have a big family. My mind constantly tells me that I can’t have it…

Nobody would want to deal with you, he’d get tired of it eventually. What if your kids are crazy like you? You don’t want to run the risk that he has to find you dea-

“You aren’t doing anything to me, you don’t have to do this… we can get through this, we can get you whatever help you need… please…”

I’m doing this because I love him. I can tell when he sees the look in my eyes, he mumbles a quick okay before leaving to put the pizzas in the freezer.

I run to lock myself in the bathroom… I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“”“”“”“”“”

When I finally get myself together, I leave the bathroom on a mission to get out quickly. It takes me a while before I realize what’s happening.

“where the hell did you put my keys Jay?” I see him sitting at our table, set with two plates of pizza and two glasses of wine.

“You’re not driving right now… I just heard you have a twenty minute panic attack, you’re in no headspace to drive.” I know he won’t give me the keys, no matter how much I try to convince him. “Do you even have anywhere to go?” I just shake my head. He gets up and walks into our bedroom.

I can hear him on the phone with Ted, he’s asking if I can stay in LA with him. When he returns, we sit down to eat the now cold pizza.

“What did he say?” I didn’t necessarily want to move across the country, but we both know I wouldn’t be able to actually leave well enough alone if I stayed.

I can tell that he’s been crying, but I know that this is what’s truly best for him in the long run. “He said yes, obviously. I’ll drive you to his place, and catch a flight back.” I knew that there was no convincing him to leave me alone for extended periods of time… I wonder if Ted told him not to let me out of his sight.

He probably did.

After dinner Jay offers to sleep on the couch, but I tell him that I don’t want our last night to be spent in different parts of the house.

He holds me as I cry myself to sleep.

This is what’s best for him.

“”“”“”“”“”

The nearly twenty hour drive was silent, stopping whenever the gas gauge lit up. Jay always knew what to get me from the gas station, while I stayed in the car reading. About halfway through the ride he finally decided to play some music, our shared playlist flowing through the tense atmosphere.

I decided to take a nap at some point, and was awoken by Jay gently shaking my shoulder while handing me some food that he had gotten. “We’ve only got about an hour left… you need to eat, and I think we should talk about it.”

No. You can’t handle this, the car ride is hell as is… and now he wants you to talk about why you’re breaking his heart?

“There’s not much to talk about Jay… there isn’t any way to convince me that it was a mistake.” I can see the hurt look in his eyes when I say it, and I really didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. “I love you so much… and I promise, this is for you.”

He starts to try and argue, before settling on asking about publicity. My only response is that we can deal with it separately. I finish my food, and finish the last few chapters of my book.

“”“”“”“”“”

It takes less than an hour to move all of my stuff into Ted’s guest room.

Ted is my best friend, and we’ve known each other for years. He introduced me to the job prospects of the internet. He introduced me to all of his colleagues when I was first starting on YouTube…

He introduced me to Jay.

After helping move everything in, Jay got ready to fly out. He said a quick goodbye to me, before going outside to talk to Ted.

They were out there for a really long time.

What if he’s convincing Ted that you are a horrible person?

What if they’re working together to get you put away?

What if you opened the window?

What if you jumped?

My phone is in my hand immediately, looking up the likelihood of injury/death from a second story jump. Very unlikely. Shit.

All of the sudden, the walls feel too close. The window is too far. I hear Jay’s Uber leaving, and everything starts to collapse.

This was a mistake. I just ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s too late. He hates me. I should have just left a note and Jumped off the congress avenue bridge.

I can’t breathe.

I hear a soft knock at my door, and hear it creak open. Ted sits down in front of me, placing my hand on his chest. We work on breathing exercises that he taught me years ago. When I finally feel slightly normal, he pulls me into a tight hug.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos @memento-rory

[dinoshimaaa]

Cabo

You and Ajax make dinner at nine PM together. (fluff, modern au)

masterpost - sher's bday

tag: @souglias

(this is a repost of an older work that didn't make it in tags lol)

-

You register the warmth around you when you open your eyes, finding it to be both familiar and expected. The man squished between you and the backrest of the couch is still fast asleep, soft snoring in your ears slowly falling into the same rhythm as your heartbeat. Romeo, the orange tabby (and the undoubted king of the household) stays curled up between you and Ajax, but his eyes blink periodically, having woken up just before you did.

The phone reveals the time to be six in the evening when you extend your arm to check it. Turning back towards Ajax, you lightly pat his chest, “Wake up. We need to prepare dinner soon.”

“Mmh,” his chest rumbles, and his hold around your waist tightens. “Not now.”

“I’m hungry.”

Ajax’s eyes open. He stares at you for a second. Then he smiles and closes his eyes again. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you sigh and it comes out as laughter.

“Go back to sleep,” he shifts his head down, nose pressing into your neck. “We have all the time in the world.”

“Romeo might be hungry, though.” As if to prove you wrong, the orange tabby jumps down from the couch and nonchalantly pads towards the bedroom, possibly to hop on your bed and mess up the sheets before bedtime. The two of you watch him as he does so, and once he is out of sight, you face each other again. “Or maybe not.”

“See? No one to worry about,” he hums and gently pulls your head beneath his cheek. “Stay.”

You obey. Sleep catches you in its grasp once again, and the next time you wake up it is past nine. Your stomach is definitely growling by then, and Romeo is also pawing at the couch, upset that he has yet to receive his feast (canned tuna) for the night.

Ajax reluctantly joins you in the kitchen minutes after you pull out of his slackened grip. Wordlessly, he grabs the chopping board, but stills when he sees the instant ramen cups in your hands.

“It’s late,” you answer to his disapproving glance, “I don’t know about you, Gordon Ramsey, but I’d rather settle for a quick meal tonight than a full course meal I have to wait an hour for.”

“It’s bad for your health,” he walks over and presses his lips to your hair, “I literally cook quality meals for you for free. Do you have any idea how much Kaeya pays me to do that for him?”

You shrug. “You can do that tomorrow. I’m hungry now.”

Ajax grumbles and places the cutting board back to where it was. Then, he takes the ramen cups from your hands and pours just-boiled water into them in your stead. When he’s done, he sits next to you on the kitchen island and the both of you stare at the ramen cups.

“Romeo hasn’t eaten,” you break the comfortable silence. “Get the tuna for him.”

“Let’s get married.” Ajax replies. You turn to him with a deadpan look.

“We’re already as domestic as we can be,” he smiles and tilts his head. “We sleep in the same bed and house, I cook and clean for you, and you repay me with kisses and cuddles. Getting married won’t make a difference.”

“Romeo still hasn’t eaten.”

“I’m being serious,” his voice drops to a whisper now, and his eyes drop to your left hand. You are very aware of the heavy gaze on the empty fourth finger. “There’s no one else I’d rather wake up from a nap at nine PM and cook bland instant ramen and neglect our hungry cat because we were too busy bickering in the kitchen over dinner choices… with.”

The fatigue has gotten up to him, you think. You blame his abrupt decision on the sleep-lidded eyes and tousled ginger hair and his unsound mind still filled with fantasies from his slumber. You want to scold him about how important of a decision marriage is and why he shouldn’t carelessly throw the word around like he’s suggesting a movie night. You want to smack him head from the back for joking around and getting your hopes high for a split second.

And yet Ajax is never one to make hasty decisions with zero thought. Shyly, his eyes flit up to meet yours and the sincerity in them makes your heart skip a beat.

“I’ll buy you a ring.” he nervously adds, which is uncharacteristic of him. “Soon. I’ll buy your dream dress, book your dream location, and give you your dream wedding. All you have to do is say yes.”

He doesn’t need to prove himself with material worths, and you want to let him know that. You love him just as much as he loves you and possibly way more. Shifting your hand to link with his and squeeze it, you watch the way his eyes soften.

Ajax caresses your left ring finger. You give him the answer he is waiting for.

“Feed Romeo the tuna,” you answer, with all honesty, “And I’ll say yes.”

Your orange tabby has never had a better dinner before today.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

VH - The Thorn in Villains' side

“Wake up, you creature of the night, and despair !”

“Nooo, sleepy, beddy-bye -”

“I said wake up !”

Vampire Hero opened an eye, blinked and yawned. He didn’t look at Villain at once. That was the courtyard itself that caught his attention. He was in the middle of it, tied to a pillar. All around him were huge spikes of metal, as if he was in the center of a gigantic metal flower. They all were curved at different angles. You couldn’t step amid them without being scratched, at least. In a sense, that was pretty. Villain themself was on a balcony, their hands on the balustrade, dominating the scene.

“Kids”, he whispered with leniency. “What they do these days.”

“Shame”, said Villain who hadn’t heard him. “You interest me. I thought we could talk.”

Vampire Hero yawned again for all answer.

“Is it insolence ? Or is it the pain of having been under the sun for all day ?”

“Pain ? Why ?”

“You vampires can’t bear the sun.”

“Oh, I understand the confusion. No. Do you know how some birds fall asleep immediately when you cover their cage, because they think it’s the night ?”

“I suppose ?”

“Well, I work the other way around. I have a sunbeam on my face, I get sleepy. It doesn’t hurt me; I just take a nap.”

Then his tone shifted abruptly:

“All day long ? You mean I’ve been here for more than a day ?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

His voice was now icy. Villain had a delicate little cough.

“I admit I didn’t know about sunlight. What about silver, then ?”

“That would work on vampires, yes.”

“You’re in luck. All these spikes are covered with silver. If you want to free yourself, you need to get through them.”

Vampire Hero hissed in annoyance:

“Ugh. Any particular reason why ?”

“Unless you want to rot in here forever.”

“No, I mean. Let me get this straight. You’ve made all these spikes so I could walk over them for a couple of minutes ? It just seems kinda wasteful.”

“If you want to talk about waste, time’s ticking. Why won’t you have your little dance right now ? You have two minutes before reaching me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Vampire Hero slipped out of his bonds and stepped forward. He whistled.

“That’s quite the thorn forest you have there. Gasp ! Curses, even. What’s a poor vampire to do ?”

He slowly turned his head toward Villain and smirked:

“Hey, watch this.”

He extended his hand and casually patted the flat side of the spike.

“Oh no”, he said in a toneless voice, while staring at Villain. “I’m doomed. Ouch. Argh. And such.”

Slowly he smiled, revealing his razor-like teeth.

“Do you see it ? Do you begin to see it ?”

“See what ?”

“Your mistake.”

“Show off”, whispered Villain.

“Possibly, yes. At least I’m not ordering useless death traps on a whim. I’ve always made sure they worked first.”

“Death traps ? You are a hero.”

“Now, yes.”

Vampire Hero took a couple of steps among the spikes, decided it was quite enough, jumped, caught the guardrail and climbed the balcony. He hadn't avoided all of them, far from it, but when he landed on his feet, his face was emotionless. There was maybe a twinge of exasperation. He stood still in front of Villain. They both stayed quiet for a moment.

“What are you ?” finally asked Villain.

“A vampire hero.”

“No you’re not. You don’t fear silver or sunlight and you had death traps. You’re neither. What are you ?”

“I am pissed off. I want to be home every night and you’ve prevented me to do it.”

“Why ?”

“I'm married. Just know you’re very lucky I am what I said. I’ll let you live. Reluctantly.”

Villain barely reacted when he pinned them against the wall, whispering in their ear:

“Now then ! You’ve made me lose time. You owe me a drink.”

*

Vampire Hero is now a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Click on the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[sunflowerandsunshinebaby]

Little April, CG Ann

Info: Part 1/2 of gift for @cryingatwindermerepeaks! Little April can’t and refuses to sleep

Tags: @kawaiipeacemusic @helloomimi @aggies-little-duck

Not sleeping for an extended period of time was not good for you. April was in fact fully aware of this. She had seen Andy participate in a competition where he had to stay awake for a long period of time when they first started dating. It had not ended well for either of them. However April chose to ignore this fact frequently, usually choosing to rely on coffee to get her through her day. She was procrastinating sleeping the same way she procrastinated her work; hanging out with Andy. 

The two of them were engaged in a brutal mario kart competition with Ben and Leslie. Ben was in the lead like always and April could hear faint grumbling from Andy. He groaned dramatically, slumping on the couch as Ben secured first place. Leslie chuckled softly at his antics while Ben grinned triumphantly. April kept her knees curled up to her chest as she crossed the finish line not finding the effort to be excited about her third place. She was exhausted after the long day of dealing with all of Ron's appointments that she had scheduled for today by accident.

“April you okay over there?” Ben asked and April burrowed further into the black blanket Ann had gotten her a few weeks before during her shark week. “I’m fine” She replied and really it was only a half lie. She was just exhausted and struggling to function while holding off her headspace. But other than that April was fine and she didn’t need Ann. That's what she was telling herself anyway even as she yawned and her littlespace began to creep in.

 “We have to go babies” Leslie announced standing up while Ben set up a movie for Andy. “Not a baby” April mumbled and Leslie shot a fond smile towards her as she pulled out her phone. “Bye guys” April said, not bothering to get up to hug them.

She felt her phone vibrate as the couple walked out the door and she checked it. It was a long text so April skimmed it. Turned out to be Mama asking if she was okay since Leslie had texted her some concerns. She frowned at the bright screen turning the brightness down before typing back a simple yeah, tired. Unsurprisingly Ann texted back quickly Want me to come over baby bat? April stared down at the offer gnawing on her lip. She replied with a thumbs up before she could change her mind.

“Bubby” April said quietly and Andy’s head snapped toward her with a big grin “yeah ‘pril?” He asked eager to help like always. “Mamas coming over soon n I’m probly gonna have to take a nap. Could you try n distract her for me?” April asked hopefully. She really didn’t want to take a nap and Andy could be a master at distracting caregivers. Andy nodded excitedly “of course!! I’m gonna be Burt Macklin” he made a mock serious face.

April grinned and leaned forward to high five him which he responded to immediately. They sat together watching the weird robot thing movie Andy had picked until she heard a familiar voice. “Sweetheart?” Ann called as she closed and locked the front door behind her. April sat up a little straighter, squirming out of the blanket “Mama?” Ann walked in and saw April's exhausted expression and her heart melted. “Oh baby bat, how long has it been since you’ve slept?” She asked, crossing her arms but kept her tone gentle.

Andy practically leaped off the couch “Miss Ann!!! I’m Burt Macklin!” He declared this with a fervor as he adjusted his fake badge. Ann looked up at him with a warm smile but her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw April's smirk. “Well then I’m very pleased to have a detective with me to investigate why little miss April is so sleepy” Ann said gesturing for Andy to come over. He and April exchanged a mildly panicked look. Neither of them had prepared for this possibility. “Uhhh I have returned to being Andy! Who would like to watch his movie.” Andy said this  with as much determination as his first declaration.

Ann smiled at him and then returned to April “so little one how long has it been?” She repeated the question with an edge of sternness and April knew she had to answer. “Almost 24 hours” April admitted which wasn’t her worst but she wasn’t about to tell her Mama that. A flicker of disappointment crossed Ann’s face but she masked it. “So it’s naptime hmm?” Ann said and April begrudgingly nodded, not wanting to see the disappointment again. 

April slowly stood up and Ann wrapped an arm around her waist and April burrowed into her side. “Bye bye Bubby” she mumbled to Andy as Ann guided her back to her room. “Do you have enough energy to let me help you get changed?” Ann asked and April nodded, sitting on the bed and tugging off her leggings as Ann found her favorite pajamas. They were a gift from Andy and had little wolves on them. Next Ann guided the sweatshirt off and April was fully in her pajamas. 

“Mama?” April asked, rubbing her eyes “yes April?”Ann asked, pausing in her take of folding the clothes. “Can I have the bat pacifier? Not for too long don’t wanna hurt teeth” April asked expressing her worries and Ann nodded. “We can let it get you to sleep and then I’ll take it out. Does that sound okay?” April nodded, not even protesting when Ann gently pushed the pacifier in though usually she’d want to do it. April crawled underneath both her regular blanket and her black weighted one and Ann came in after her.

Ideally after just a few minutes April would be asleep. It was practically the perfect conditions. But for some reason she just couldn’t. She buried her face into Ann's chest letting out a grumbly whine. “Poor baby bat can’t get to sleep?” Ann questioned stroking April's hair and she nodded. They struggled like that for almost an hour until Ann tugged her onto her lap and wrapped April in the blankets. April was too lethargic and exhausted to protest. Finally April managed to doze off and get the rest she deserved.

[meyuuposts]

Milestone: Woke up early to study

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Over 5 hours studying is what I want to aim for more often. My average is usually 2-3 hours but I want to increase it so I don't have any regrets in the future.

I managed to wake up at 6 on the weekend. Big step for me considering the fact that I oversleep almost every weekday, and it's a lot worse on weekends. I struggle getting out of bed and starting my day. But I did it on Saturday!

Had some advice from some friends about it, spent some time talking to them on Friday. We ended up talking most of the day, but I don't count it as a bad thing. Call it a mental health break. It was a nice day and I like to think it relieved some of our stress.

Although I'm a night owl, as said before I'm trying to avoid messing up my sleep schedule, and I also need to wake up earlier for the exams anyways. I've never overslept on an exam day but I don't want this to be the first time. I found that after waking up early my day was extended and lasted a lot longer, which was good considering the fact that the time usually goes very quickly.

I wasn't able to do the same the next day, but regardless it's a start and I'm proud of that. Reminded me that I'm not a completely lost cause. I'm going to continue and try do the same next weekend, but also take less naps during the day. Time is ticking.

(Image of study time is from the study timer app, FLIP. You can make goals per day, have a countdown for any events, compare your study times with others, and the most helpful thing is that it can lock you out of the apps you choose while the timer is running to minimise distractions. Setting can be on and off, so it's very flexible depending on what works for you)

[everythingblackblack]

Akako and Kaito relationship headcanons? Platonic and romantic if you can.

Please take this bunch of Kaito x Akako romance headcanons. 1. Kaito is the one doing the cooking in their relationship, he doesn't believe Akako would poison him, but he wouldn't risk it either. 2. When they sleep and take naps together, Aoko goes to look for them because they would just spend the whole day sleeping.

Kaito would be the first to wake up, he would look at Akako, smile and go back to sleep.

Akako would be the last to fall asleep, she stays awake to watch him sleep and make sure he doesn't have nightmares, she uses her magic to manipulate them and make him have nice dreams. 3. One time KID was being cornered by Snake and his boys, his hang glider was broken, he thought it would be the end, then a soft voice called him and said "Do you need a ride?" and extended her hand towards him. It was Phantom Lady riding a broom, the worry vanished when he saw her, he could only smile and say "If it's not an inconvenience for you, beautiful lady."

Okay, I can't help but think of Akako taking on the role of Phantom Lady and helping Kaito with his heists.

She definitely uses her simpler, less dangerous spells to support him.

4. Also, both sometimes sit on Akako's broom and look at the night sky, Kaito usually carries a blanket or uses KID's cloak to share with Akako and keep her from being cold. 5. When Kaito is sick or injured, Akako covers for him during his robberies as KID, making sure no one suspects him. 6. They both use romantic nicknames for each other, but not the typical "my love, my honey", he calls her his "precious and charming witch" or "the woman who enchanted his heart", Akako calls him "My sun, my moon, my light in the darkness". 7. Kaito always suffers when Akako catches a cold, every time he sneezes he casts random spells, some are silly like his hair turning green, others are more annoying, like being turned into a mouse and almost being eaten by the neighborhood cats, however, he will never leave his sweet witch alone. 8. Kaito learns magic from Akako, she explains to him everything she knows about magical jewels and about dangerous creatures that might appear in his path.

Kaito learns simple spells, and even uses them in his performances!

Kaito asks Akako if there is a variation of the "appearing roses" trick but with real magic, Akako says yes and shows him how to do it, when Kaito masters it, a flower appears for Akako and says "I know you like real magic, so I will only use this magic for you." 9. Akako is very protective of Kaito, she will use her magic to defend him from nosy detectives playing pranks on him.

One time, poor Hakuba had his desk filled with frogs.

Shinichi started losing things, he assumed it was because he was distracted, a witch actually got mad at him for kicking a ball at her boyfriend.

"How dare you ruin her pretty face?!" 10. Akako and Kaito always walk with their arms linked, this started because they started dating and Kaito was embarrassed to hold Akako's hand, but when he noticed that several boys were approaching her because they assumed they were friends, he began to offer her his arm so they could walk together. 11. They dig up graves together, Kaito isn't sure why Akako likes burying things in the graveyard or digging up corpses so much, but he doesn't ask, assuming it's witch stuff.

"You know, when you said we were going on a date, this wasn't the first thing I thought of." Kaito continues digging as he asks, confusion can be heard in his voice.

"This is just as fun as watching a horror movie." Akako mentions it with amusement and charm, as if going to dig up corpses is an acceptable equivalent of going to the movies.

"You make me question how crazy I am for being in love with you." 12. They take their birds out for a walk together, and unexpectedly Akako's crows get along quite well with Kaito's pigeons.

Kaito calls Akako the mother of his pigeons, and Akako calls him the father of her crows.

Akako and Kaito send each other romantic notes with their birds. 13. For Kaito's birthday, Akako used a spell so Kaito could talk to his father who was clearly very dead.

Kaito called her "the best girlfriend ever" and Akako didn't tell him that she almost brought him back (as a zombie), which she thought was a little disrespectful. 14. When Kaito destroyed Pandora, he collected some fragments and had a ring made with which he asked Akako to marry him.

Pandora is a symbol of eternity, and of his personal suffering, I find it romantic that he gave a part of that to Akako.

15. One of the scenarios I often think about is these two having 1 child, because I can't stop thinking about how paranormal that would be. Kaito trying to get his son down from the roof, or telling his guests things like "Careful! My son hasn't learned about gravity yet!" or just the kid turning his head like a character from a horror movie.