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clatoera · 9 months

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Always Remember We're Burned for Better Chapter 17: What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Want You More

Heeeeey guys. I feel like I apologize a lot for delays. Full transparency is that as we enter the final act of this fic we are also entering my application season. Things are going to be irregular until October when my apps are submitted. At the same time I expect thats when I'll be starting the sequel so! Exciting things ahead! Thank you for your patience and understanding and love. I appreciate and love every one of you.

I quite literally went on a mission to revisit every thing Jack Quaid has ever done to get an idea of how I wanted Marvel to sound. I'm posting this 26 minutes before I see oppenheimer the third time.

The title is from Cruel Summer (tswift)

AO3

Masterpost

As always, thank you to my friends. @ohhowwehavefallen who quite literally is the reason for the very last scene. IT was her. Give her credit for it existing. @kentwells for literally letting me bounce EVERY idea off them (I literally the other day said I just want people to be happy and had to be reminded I cause the suffering), and @crookedlyniceperson who keeps me going with the thought of memes.

Thank you as we enter this last segment of chapters, where we end the war and start the rest of their lives.

“Do they ever stop looking at you like you killed their dog?” Johanna is the one who asks, glancing around half heartedly at the dozens of wary stares being sent their way at any given moment.

In perfect, offhanded unison, Cato and Glimmer give a resigned “No.”

They had grown used to it. The distrustful looks, the pitiful side glancing, but frankly there was not as much fear or respect one would think these once great victors would garner.

Then again, they were quite a sight to behold these days.

Johanna, with hair like a peach fuzz and various track marks from IV after IV for that Morphling hit.

Clove, who had flayed more than one man alive on television, with skin like violets and nightlock berries from her neck down, bruises blossoming on every inch of that pale canvas.

Cato and Glimmer, who they had long since deemed as crazy and unstable, but now less of a threat with the return of the carrot they had dangled on the stick before them.

Really, the only one who even resembled his old self was Marvel. And what threat was he, anyway?

Finnick did not grace them with his presence, nor did Annie, as they were playing peacekeepers between Katniss and Peeta across the room after his attempt on her life not all that many weeks ago. After all, someone had to keep Miss girl on fire’s embers glowing. Without the supervision of Finnick, Gale likely would have taken Peeta out by now just for his own opportunity to get ahead in the name of protecting Katniss.

“We kinda did kill their dogs. Well. We killed their kids.” Glimmer reminds her, back to her earlier habits of pushing food around on a tray, slipping hard and fast into her old ways.

She sits directly next to Clove on the opposite side of Cato, across from Johanna. Next to Johanna is Marvel who still cannot look at her for longer than a second, so far as Glimmer knows at least.

It’s Clove, of course, who catches him looking when Glimmer is not.

“We didn’t kill their kids, they weren’t in the games.” Clove rolls her eyes, but stabs her blunt spork into the overly-cooked but under-seasoned green beans. She couldn’t even raise her shoulder parallel to the floor, but they were still unwilling to give her (or Cato, for that matter) a knife. At least someone in this godforsaken place was still scared of her and didn’t see her like a bird with a broken wing. “The twelves mostly finished themselves off every year anyway- for fucks sake would it kill someone to get some salt down here?”

“I would commit a literal war crime for a pizza right now.” Marvel admits, and the tone of his voice sounds like maybe he’s only half joking, that maybe he really would dig a knife into the president of District 13 in exchange for extra pepperoni.

When the eyes around them firmly land on him, and some of the armed guards tense and take a step forward he puts up a single, defeated hand. “I’m joking. I’m not here to take out the rebellion for a stuffed crust.” When the guards step back and the weary looks turn away, he does cock an eyebrow and gives a slight nod of his head. “Extra cheese on the other hand..”

Glimmer gives a quiet giggle, though she does not look up from the swirls she makes with the potatoes before her.

Cato actually laughs, though, in a way he had not in the many months of separation of him and Clove. It was like something in him had come back to life, and it clearly had something to do with the dark haired girl he currently had his arms draped around the shoulders of. “If you’re going to get us shot over pizza we may never have again, at least make it something good. At this point I’d lead this fucking war if it would get me back to a burger.” He gently nudges Clove, who is furiously attempting to stab at whatever they were trying to pass off as a balanced meal. “Come on. What do you miss?”

“What don’t I fucking miss? Our bed. Fabric softener. The use of my arms..” Clove starts to complain, but she looks up and catches the teasing shine in his blue eyes and can’t help but play along. “...half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the peanut butter half. And an orange. If we make it out of this, I never want to go a day without real fruit ever again.” She nudges at Glimmer’s knee with her own, before doing the same with her free shoulder. “What about you Glim Glam? What’s your death row choice here?”

How is she supposed to say, oh, nothing, I wasn’t allowed to enjoy food, the thought of eating makes me nauseous? How is she supposed to say that she isn’t quite sure there's anything out there in the world that she’s interested in these days. There’s a memory, though, of a night before Clove became victor officially, of late night snacks in a bed that was not her own but belonged to the man across from Cato. Back when there was still potential and love in her world, that little bit of good that she had had taken from her yet again.

“...those little cake slices, not cupcakes, but the individual slices so you can try the different flavors. They have them at the parties all the time. And maybe fries?” Glimmer smiles to herself at the memory of salt between bed sheets and frosting on the tips of noses. “And there was this pasta, with like…cheese sauce and It was so so good but I can’t remember what it was called but it was just so good I’d kill to have it again–”

“...mac’n’cheese. That’s what it’s called. You like it with the toasty little breadcrumbs on top of it.” Marvel finishes for her, briefly lifting his head and giving ever so slight of a nod. “I remember it from when-”

“Yeah. I do too.” Glimmer agrees, and is the one to break eye contact as she refocuses down at the scraps of borderline dog food they’re being fed.

A heavy, powerful silence falling over the table full of victors, a haze no one quite wants to break. Cato taps his thumb on Clove’s shoulder, and she settles into his side contently. Marvel clears his throat and looks around the room awkwardly, not quite focusing on any point or face in particular.

“...well!” Johanna announces, finally breaking through the silence that permeated their shared space. “I don’t know about you, but the first thing I want, is a fucking drink.”

—————

“Where’s Cato? I haven’t seen you two apart…actually at all, since you got back?” Glimmer invites herself to the foot of Clove’s bed, hands full of bed sheets and thread. “Off in that silly little meeting of boys?”

“Finnick showed up and practically begged him to go.” Clove confirms, pulling herself to a more proper sitting position and tucking her feet back to sit criss-crossed underneath her. “I don't know if it was actually a meeting or if he was just trying to make him go get his allotted thirty minutes of fresh air.” As she sits she tugs at the newly replaced IV in her hand, bringing forward the poll that was attached to the long bit of tubing in her hand, reminded of the inconvenience she thought she had escaped.

Glimmer reaches out a hand to brush over the back of Clove’s, immediately calling attention to the new intrusion. “Clove! I thought you were done with these?”

“Eh. A small setback. Turns out part of my lung just like..collapsed when I was trying to throw this morning. It was filled with blood, it got pretty nasty. I guess I still have some internal bleeding and bruising.” She pulls down the top of her hospital pajamas, showing the literal tubing coming out from below her clavicle, which is filled with fresh ruby blood. “Shoved this in me, the IV is for the pain. I don’t think I need it but–”

“Your lung collapsed. You have a literal piece of plastic sewed into your skin. And you don’t think you need the pain meds?” Glimmer cocks a blonde eyebrow, before mirroring Clove’s cross legged posture. “You’re stronger than anyone else I know, Clove. Stubborn, but strong nonetheless.”

She offers Clove a bit of thread and one of her stitching needles, along with the upper half of some shredded fabric. It had started off handedly– a story of how Clove used to stitch up Cato, how they had been taught in the academy and how she didn’t want to lose that skill too when people were here to baby her. Someone, Primrose Everdeen maybe, had suggested it may be a good therapeutic exercise for her to use the fine muscles and tendons in her hands, to work on stitching and maintain her fine motor skills.

Really, though, it was more of a therapy for Glimmer, who desperately needed to feel needed, who desperately needed a friend to distract her brain for a few hours a week.

It worked out for both of them.

“Any other injuries you wanna admit to, Clove?” Glimmer inquires, absentmindedly beginning to run a new type of fabric stitch on the opposite end of the fabric from Clove. “You know I have no one to tell.”

“Nope. Just the usual. Broken ribs. All my major joints are useless. A lung that gave out. Oh, some internal bleeding…” Clove tries not to reveal her frustration when she cannot thread the needle, cannot keep the intrinsic muscles of her head steady enough to connect the two pieces. The shaking of her right hand betrays her as she drops the needle, grip strength so diminished she can't even keep hold of it for long enough to throw an anchoring stitch in the fabric. Clove throws down the fabric in defeat, running her hand now over her face instead.

“But hey. My skin is coming back together. Just ugly fucking scars for the rest of my life–” Clove reveals the skin of her thigh to Glimmer, the puckering of stitches and the greenish-yellow hue of a bruise starting to dissolve under her skin. “Just fucking great, Glimmer. I’m just great.”

Glimmer drops the fabric, and immediately pushes up the sleeves of her District Thirteen issued henley shirt. Her own scars are not as angry red or freshly bruised, but rather a raised, pink granulated tissue in rivulettes from her elbows to right where her wrist meets her hand. “We all have scars now, Clove. No more magic Capitol tricks to take them away. I clawed my way out of handcuffs, using blood to lubricate my way out.. We all have scars now that we’re going to carry for the rest of our lives. You are alive. You have Cato. By all standards, you’re dong pretty fucking great compared with the other option here.”

Glimmer picks up the little fallen needle and wordlessly threads it for Clove, saying nothing nor expecting any gratitude from the other woman for the act. “You have Cato. Who will not leave your side, who shoves into a twin-sized hospital bed with you somehow–”

“We slept in a twin sized bed at the academy when we were sixteen until he won. We’re used to it, is all.”

“It’s still sweet. How he is so insistent on being near you all the time, all he thought about that whole time was you Clove, I’m shocked they even got him away from you now.”

“Yeah well.. I made him go with Finnick, too. It’s not good for him to sit here and treat me like a porcelain doll all the time. For either of us.” Clove takes Glimmer’s offering with no words of thanks, as the exchange would prove too embarrassing of a hit to Clove’s fragile confidence.

Her confidence being the only truly fragile thing about her, may she add.

“He sleeps with me and he is always touching me but it’s like he’s scared to touch me, you know?” Clove explains, hoping it is not too much information for what had become her closest friend. “He thinks I'm fragile.”

“He doesn’t think you’re fragile.” She nearly scoffs, giving a half hearted laugh. “He thinks you’re anything but. He just doesn’t want to hurt you.”

It’s Clove’s turn to scoff and laugh at that. “He has never given a fuck about hurting me. He broke my collarbone the day we met. After he won, he used to push me so hard at training that I couldn’t walk the hundred steps to my room at training. One time he picked me up by the throat and slammed me against a wall until I could escape myself. Our entire lives have been hurting each other–”

“Well you’re not the one getting choked against a wall now, are you?” Glimmer deflects, and a wicked smile floods Clove’s face at the realization of the lighthearted change in topic.

“I wish I were getting choked against a wall in a different way, you know?” Clove teases, laughing as they fall into a comfortable silence as they work on different types of stitching– human skin or low thread-count sheets.

“You know Marvel is going to come around, right?” Clove offers out of the blue, seemingly coming from nowhere with the topic change. “You said that all Cato thought about was me, well, that was him too. We shared a wall. Lots of conversations were had through six inches of concrete and all….he’ll come around. He just needs time to remember–”

“Clove, he won’t even look at me. He won’t come around, because he remembers it all just fine. Do you know what he said to me that day? That I used him, that he was just another client to me. He said that…that..that I just picked him because he was there! He doesn’t believe that I love him, Clove. He thinks I just..faked it all.” Glimmer catches the skin of her finger in her needle, and quickly brings the blood drop to her lips to staunch the bleeding. “I didn’t fake a thing. Not with him. He is the only person it was ever real with and I just- I just…I miss him.”

“He loves you too, Glimmer. He never stopped.”

“Yeah, well, he shows it just like every other man I’ve ever met, now.”

—————

“There's my favorite cellmate!” Marvel’s voice pops out, a goofy grin on his face as he lets himself right into her room.

“Let me guess, it’s your turn to babysit me?” Clove slams shut the book she had been reading, some silly novel from long before the dark days in a language that was English but also so much more complicated. The only type of enrichment activity she got these days was mental, it seems.

“Huh? No, no of course not, no...yeah, actually. Yeah. But! I came because I wanted to see you, not because It’s my turn to keep you supervised.”

Clove swings her legs over the side of the bed, placing her feet firmly on the ground before pushing herself to a standing position. She had quickly discovered if anyone was going to let her get away with something it was going to be Marvel– he was not going to keep her in bed with crafts or insist she not move too much at risk of re-angering an existing injury or worse, making a new one. Maybe it was because he had been there when she was at her absolute worst in the Capitol, right alongside her, but he didn’t quite treat her like her skin was made of glass. “Let me guess, another meeting of all the victors but us?”

“The privilege of being the special ones who got pulled out of the arena apparently comes with a security clearance.” Marvel shrugs, nodding his head enthusiastically towards the door. “Peeta bread down the hall is in therapy, Johanna went backwards today in terms of progress with water, and Annie is..well she’s Annie. Oh but us, we’re the big scary careers remember? We’re the little captiol plants, that's why they tried to kill you, makes it more believable you know?”

Clove hops off the bed and practically scurries towards the door, at the chance to escape her sterile prison at any slight opportunity that arises. As she gets closer to her chaperone she notices the permanent marker writing on his arm. “Look at you, you got slave to district thirteen privilege, what are you blowing off right now?”

“History of Nuclear Defense. It’s pretty cool, but I can’t look at that guy from twelve for more than fifteen minutes-”

“Well you are the one who threatened to stab him for cheesecake, Marvel.”

“I was kidding! Mostly!” Marvel gestures to the left to turn out of the hallway, the long way away from the fellow prison (hospital) cells of their friends and fellow victors. Other than Annie, he has had the hardest time accepting what has happened to them, and even more so why he was left without the physical scars of his friends. “Apparently Cato and Glimmer have both gone after him, I think our turn is long overdue.”

They take their government mandated stroll up and down the hall, back and forth, as they do any day that Marvel gets assigned Clove duty. It’s the most exercise anyone will let Clove have, the most autonomy, even.

“Have you heard anything about back home? Noone will tell me shit, and I don’t know if they don’t know or if they’re trying to spare my feelings like I'm a child who can’t handle the reality of war.” He half whispers, all too aware (and maybe even a little paranoid, after their time in the capitol) that someone is always listening for something even the littlest bit treasonous to slip their lips so they can be hung in the proverbial town square.

“Glimmer knows nothing about Gloss and Cashmere. They can’t tell me anything about Enobaria. I thought asking every day would break them but-” Clove gives half a shrug, kicking her feet along the concrete floors. “Noone can tell me anything about her. We don’t know about Brutus, either. All Cato wants to know is about his sister. I don’t think anyone knows. Or if they do, they’re keeping it from all of us.”

He doesn’t respond, just gives a nod at the reality of their situation. If anyone knows anything, it is well hidden from all of them. “You know, I’m not glad you’re still in the hospital, but I’m glad Cato sleeps with you, he’s supposed to be my roommate. We have fucking roommates, what is this, war boarding school? Between this and the classes, I feel like they left some gaps in our education in the districts. Who knew we should know how to do nuclear fission by eighteen.”

“I literally don’t even know what those words mean.” She half-laughs, shaking her head in disapproval. “Other than the games and then, you know, the capitol, I have barely spent a night away from him since we were sixteen. I think you’re safe to push the beds together to make yourself one big one, because he won’t be there anytime soon.”

Clove supposed that meant that Glimmer was meant to be her roommate when all was said and done. In another life, they probably would have switched in the dark of the night, Clove and Marvel or Glimmer and Cato, rearranging the sleeping arrangements in a way that would scandalize the upper-administration of thirteen and they would not have cared. All they would have cared about is having been together, at whatever cost. Things are different, now, though.

“You need to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Marvel I do not know what they said to you in those last couple of days before we got out, but a week before all you wanted in the entire world was to see her again.” Clove reminds him in a voice that can only be described as lecturing. “All you have to do is talk to her, you’ll know she meant it all.”

“I just can’t get it out of my head, Clove. That all along she was just using me. Over and over and over again, I just hear them telling me that it never would have been me. Why would it be me?” His eyebrows are just slightly knit together, and there's a hesitation in his voice that Clove can recognize as doubt.

Doubt. The strongest force in the world, like a spell that needs no more than a drop to permeate every inch of your being, to consume you. To burn you to the ground.

“Because you’re you. And she’s her. And I’m Clove, and he’s Cato. It makes sense just because it does. Some things just…are. And this is one of them.” She has nothing better to say, because there is no stronger answer.

Somethings are just meant to be because they simply are.

They pace in a peaceful albeit tense silence, for about five more minutes before the overhead alarm signals to them that a change in activity will happen in exactly five minutes, and her other supervisors will return.

“...you know that Glimmer and Cato got to go to the armory, right?” Clove informs him with a heavy, heavy sigh. “Cato gets target practice and I’m barely allowed out of bed. How’s that fair? I’m going fucking crazy, Marvel.”

“You almost died, you psycho, I think they’re just being cautious. Besides, you were already crazy.”

“I’m not made of porcelain or glass or ceramics. I trained in the best training academy in the country for ten years, I won the fucking Hunger Games.” Clove slams her hand into the door, blocking their entrance back in. “Do you think I'm some little broken winged bird?”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Clove. I was there. I know what you survived. I wouldn’t have. I don’t think anyone else would have.” He gently nudges her hand out of the way so he can make sure she actually goes back to her room. “You know, it probably wouldn’t have been so bad if you had just given them the screams they wanted.”

Clove scoffs. “That's rule number one. Never show weakness. That gets you killed. And besides, I only scream for one person.” She gives him a playful nudge with her shoulder as she pushes past him.

Who would have thought. At one time she saw him as one of the most annoying victors she had ever met, and now, he was the only person treating her like she had her own two legs to stand on.

Damn. Maybe trauma bonding is real.

“I don’t need babysitting, you know, Marvel.”

“Trust me, I Know that. Convince everyone else.”

—————

“It’s okay, Clove, you’ll get it back–”

Clove lets out a frustrated scream, throwing the knife to the ground. Finally, finally, she had gotten a knife back in her hand in the training room, a moment she had been working toward for weeks. She had expected it to be muscle memory, truly her second nature, and come back to her as easily as it had back when she was five years old and threw for the first time.

Apparently muscles lose their memory when they are severed.

“No, Cato, it isn’t fucking okay!” She grabs another one of the knives– albeit not the best quality, but she cannot blame that. She could kill with a plastic butter knife, before– and as soon as she raises her arm she nearly drops the knife from the sharp pain that runs through her shoulder. “This is all I fucking have, this is all I am, and I can’t do it. I could do this when I was five.”

The couple of throws she had managed to succeed in executing failed in other ways, each three feet away from even hitting her target. A failure, by academy standards.

“Baby, this is not all you are.”

“How would you feel? If the only thing that has ever made you remarkable was just..gone? This is all I have, yes it is. This is as close as I’ve ever felt to my mother, who chose the games over me, this is the only thing that kept my grandmother choosing to keep me alive, the hope that i’d actually win. I was tiny and frail looking then but I was good. I was the best. This is all I have, Cato. This is all I am, and now I'm not.” Clove tries, again, to bring her arm past parallel with the floor, and the pain is nearly unbearable. She does not cry. She does not show it. But god, god does it hurt deep in her bones.

“If this is hurting you, you need to stop, Clove.” Stupid Cato. Stupid Cato and his ability to know even the slightest change in her face, to be able to notice even her slightest tells. “You just need time and that's okay.”

“And what the fuck got into YOU Cato? What the fuck is this ‘you need to stop’ shit?” Clove snaps, stepping forward to grab him by the center of his shirt, pulling him forward with a jerk of her arms. “What happened to the person who broke me, and ran me until I threw up, and never once, not a single time, took fucking pity on me? What happened to the person who wanted to make me a better tribute, who wanted to make me a better fucking victor even when we were going to kill each other? I’m not broken, Cato, don’t treat me like I am.”

Cato shakes his head, and drops his hands to his side, before very very gently grabbing her upper arms. “Clove, I don’t want to hurt you, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh since fucking when don’t you want to hurt me? Pick me up by the throat and make me fight my way out, Cato!” Clove practically begs, deep eyes searching his face in desperation, pleading for understanding,

“That was to make you survive, Clove, not fucking kill you.” He tries, gently tightening his grip on her arms. “This isn’t all you are, Clove, not anymore. Not ever.”

“Cato, stop! Treat me like your fucking partner. Treat me like me, Treat me like you’re Cato and I’m Clove and we have spent our entire lives making each other better. I am begging you, treat me like me.” Clove sees the hesitation in his face, in the way he looks from her eyes to her nose to avoid the desperation in her eyes, and knows she has him. She grabs his right hand and pushes it up to the top of her shoulder. “Brace my shoulder, and do NOT let it go. If I cry or scream. Do not let it go.”

Something snaps in Cato, or maybe something reawakens, but he gives a firm, hard squeeze at the junction of her arm and her shoulder, feeling the tendons separate and slip underneath his fingers. Clove’s legs nearly give out, and it takes all she has not to whine in the true agony at the feeling of her joints sliding over each other again. He does not let go, or loosen the grip he has on her swelling shoulder joints. Cato twists her in his arms, facing her out towards the targets. “Go. Throw.”

His other arm is wrapped around her waist, and holds her up as her legs beg to give out and bring her to the ground. As her throws hit closer and closer to the target, Cato doesn’t comment on how he can tell exactly how hard she is struggling to breathe, or how he can feel her other hand shaking at her side.

“I have an idea.” Cato begins, finally letting go of her arm and her body and trying to ignore the soft whine that she lets out when he does. “Not that they’re letting us anywhere near a war but,”

He reaches for the same deep silver gun he had picked up all those weeks ago, when he and Glimmer had been given free range for an hour with Beetee taking pity on them. “Easier to hit with this.”

Cato slips it from his hands to hers, and notices the way her hand nearly falls at the weight of the weapon. Before the frustrated look can even befall her face, he has her back in front of him, with both of his hands on top of hers. He raises her hands in his, holding them out infront of her. “You’ll like it, at least until your arms are better.”

“Easy now, baby.” Cato whispers in her ear, “You’ve got it.” He promises, and when she finally pulls the trigger, he catches her back against his chest when the kickback reverberates through her and sends her a few inches backwards. “There you go,” Cato kisses right below her ear, just before she twists in his arms to face him.

The smile stretched across her face is worth it all in that moment, the wicked, dark energy she is so known for all but painted in her eyes.

“I knew you’d like that.” Cato teases, only slightly off guard when the metal falls to the ground with a loud cling and he feels her pulling him back. It’s effortless when he naturally lifts her by her waist onto the armory table, in a spot between the guns and knives and various weapons of choice for the assorted victors in thirteen.

Clove threads her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and oh she is alive, alive alive again. As she pulls him down on top of her, she pauses only for a moment before catching his lips with hers.

“Remember, I’m not broken.”

“I know, Clove.”

#arwbfb tag #the hunger games #clato #cato and clove #clato fanfic #cato hadley #clove kentwell #glimmer thg #marvel thg #always remember we're burned for better tag #the hunger games fanfic

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canmom · 1 year

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cog in what machine

So since the VR games industry is the agglomeration of technocapital that’s currently permitting me to ‘continue to exist’, I am wondering - where are these headsets actually made?

Honestly the chances of getting a conclusive answer beyond ‘probably Shenzhen or TSMC’ is pretty low, but surprisingly I did find an article that claims to have taken it apart and found out where various parts come from. Here’s a breakdown by the price of the parts:

And the final assembly is done (for the Quest Pro at least) at the Foxconn factory in Taiwan. [For some context, the Quest 2 is a standalone headset with mobile phone chips, and it became one of the best-selling headsets ever, while the more expensive Quest Pro proved unpopular, and will likely be completely obsoleted when the Quest 3 comes out.]

Of course, that’s just one layer down the tree. Where the raw materials come from is anyone’s guess - you’d have to do some serious journalism to track it all down. Just like in computer software we create abstractions and interfaces over the ‘lower level’ components, in economics, each company in the chain only wants to know where it can get the materials and labour it needs, and at what price.

This whole process is so opaque. By making software for this machine, I’m in a sense put into a relationship with people all over the world whose fates are also tied to this industry. Even within the company I work for there are people from multiple continents, and we can all fit in one virtual room. I have little to no idea what it’s like to work on the other side of the chain. Back in 2018, I read a translation (by Chuang) of a satirical Marxist pamphlet distributed among Foxconn workers, with a bunch of pictures. It’s not some lurid dystopia, we all play the same games, but it doesn’t look like a kind of work I could manage.

It is startling how big the divide is between ‘people who work in tech’ and ‘people who work in any other industry’ in terms of pay, work conditions, etc. I can work the crazy hours my adhd-addled brain comes online, as long as the work gets done; the work itself is varied and interesting and creative. These guys have to go to work at 7am and work all day on a monotonous assembly line task. And similarly, some other poor fucker has to go down a mine to get the rare earth minerals needed to make high performance capacitors and all that. The only difference between me and them is that I was born here and they were born there. We both ‘work in VR’, for similar reasons on the high level of abstraction: we need to eat, and we think we’ll have a better life if we work in this industry than some other. But the context of that choice and the capacity in which we work could hardly be different.

All of that is hidden. You see a white plastic shell, a logo, a cute little chime, a fantasy environment. But even if I knew the names and faces of everyone whose hands touched this thing before mine, what good would it do?

I don’t know what role tech workers have in changing all this. “Meta” (formerly Facebook) is the centre of this particular web, but if Meta were to go bust, someone else would pick up where they left off. Back in the day, when industries were less diluted across the world, a strike could be organised in person across a shop floor and shut down a whole industry. Imagine if this company - all ten people! - all decided to go on strike for some end (say, solidarity with a strike in China or something)... well, Meta would have less games for their platform but it would hurt us a lot more than it would hurt them. We’re all separated by physical distance, political borders, languages.

I think maybe it’s worth reciting the story of the current age of VR. This guy Palmer Luckley made a company to turn this extravagantly expensive sci-fi technology into consumer hardware like a games console. It’s not the first time someone tried (c.f. Virtual Boy) but this time the tech was just about good enough and there was a lot more money to throw at wacky ideas like that, so it proved to have legs, and other companies got in on the game, and now it’s a category of desirable technological object you can own, like a smartphone or gaming PC.

Anyway, the story goes, his company got bought by Facebook, who were fantasising about a vaguely-defined ‘metaverse’ which will be like Second Life but better, or maybe an omnipresent AR layer over reality, or who the fuck knows what else - but in practice mostly just ended up becoming a games console manufacturer so they could operate the kind of platform capitalism that e.g. Apple and Google do with smartphones. Luckley got fired; now the fascist cunt works in ‘defense’ and ‘border security’, manufacturing cameras and drones and shit to stop people entering the US. He made a VR headset that kills you as a bit. So funny. (He’s doing his best to make sure people actually do die on the border. But haha, it’s just like in my Sword Art Onlines!)

I don’t think ‘arm of the military-industrial complex’ the general character of the VR games industry as a whole. Or rather, it is to about the same extent as videogames in general. And I don’t think the technology we enjoy must come at the [social, environmental] price ‘we’ currently pay for it. Computer tech in a less distorted world would probably look very different, but I don’t think ‘making a rock do maths really fast’ inherently implies the rest of the structure that gave birth to it. I think the joy that I get from spending my days making art on the computer is something that most people should have the option to enjoy as well. But goddamn do I not see a way to get to that hypothetical better world from here :/

In the meantime, this is the survival strategy. I think the direct harm is about as little as can be gotten away with: most of these things are beyond my power to affect whether or not I work in VR games. But it does give me pause to think about it all. :|

#stinks of marxism-flavoured catholic guilt despite never being a catholic #introspective nightposting #this is the other side of the coin to like 'what are the exciting game design possibilities of this medium'

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mikemadethis · 2 years

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Quick Review: Sonic Frontiers

In my first few hours of Sonic Frontiers I was having a blast. Coming off of Forces I was just happy to be playing a game where Sonic felt fast and fun to control. Jumping from activity to activity was a bit slow but the varied nature of them did a good job keeping me distracted. The more I played however, the more the cracks in the game started to show. The repeating minigames, the broken physics, the lengthy minibosses and the game constantly stopping you in your tracks so it can pan the camera over to something of interest for a second.

Scattered across the map are various activities which can be completed for rewards. Many of these are incredibly simple like the hundreds of platforming micro challenges. Which completely clutter the island full of ugly platforms and rails floating in the sky. These can be somewhat fun to accomplish but they also wrestle control away from the player way too often. Instead of controlling Sonic like you normally would, many challenges will limit your moveset to some degree. It could be a rail which automatically propels sonic forward, or a boss which locks Sonic to a 3 lane runner style of gameplay. It gets to the point where it feels like Sonic's open world movement is mostly just a means to get from point a to point b, since next to none of the challenges are actually testing my abilities with that moveset. In my 15 hour playthrough, I feel like I spent the majority of my time doing things like pinball or three dimensional Tetris, rather than running around and platforming as Sonic in an open world.

These issues are compounded by Sonic Frontiers absolutely baffling collectathon aspects. All of these challenges you can do in the game are to get one of various collectibles. First off, there's waaaaay too many types of collectibles. From Memory Tokens to Portal Gears to Chaos Keys to Seeds of Power, it's just way too many things to keep track of in a game where you constantly just want to be pushing forward. Many game activities require the completion of other activities in order to progress. This isn't too out of the ordinary for games, but it's kind of frustrating in an open world game. Being dropped into a play space with tons of points of interest that you can see on the horizon. Only to make your way over there and be told to come back later. Maybe I'm biased cause of Breath of the Wild, but that game did an amazing job of letting me walk up to something I thought looked interesting and letting me like... interact with it, right away. I assumed Sonic Frontiers was going to be the same, especially since a lot of the marketing seemed to imply you could play the game in whatever way you wanted.

Actually, to be fair to them, Sonic Team DID offer a few ways to bypass certain activities you may find not very enjoyable. But I'd be lying if I said I liked the system they came up with. Okay so you need memory tokens to unlock quest, portal gears (which you get from bosses) to enter cyberspace which you use to get chaos keys which you use to unlock chaos emeralds which you use to fight the boss. But actually you could bypass pretty much all of that ,except for the boss, byyyy fishing. Ya see by collecting some purple coins scattered across the map (or available during a random night time event) you can fish with Big in order to get tokens which can be used to purchase every collectible in the game?! I took advantage of this on the very last Island in the game to the point where I basically had to interact with zero of the activities in the game outside of main quests. All those bosses, platforming challenges and cyber space levels 100% skipped right over. And that's not even including the buried treasures scattered across the island which can give you even more of these collectibles. AND that's not even including the cyloop, this magic technique Sonic can use to fight enemies and interact with puzzles by drawing a circle on the ground. If you happen to draw a circle on the ground with nothing there, you get random drops of items, Including memory tokens. And this isn't some rare drop, if you really wanted to you could sit there and spin and get memory tokens way faster than you ever could by doing the challenges. None of these ways to get collectibles, resemble core gameplay in ANY way, I'd hardly even call them gameplay. If you can play the entire game by spinning in a circle and hitting easy QTE's it kind of detracts from the game proper. It makes me just wonder, is it even worth doing them?

Once you clear all of the main objectives I.E. getting all the chaos emeralds, the rest of the collectibles kind of just become useless. All those bosses undefeated, all those cyber space stages unspeedruned. None of them do anything for you anymore, and the game doesn't seem to care either way if you want to do it. And maybe that's a good thing because the game also doesn't seem to care about keeping a flow state. The amount of unskippable cutscenes in this game is kind of ridiculous. Complete a challenge, bam a cutscene. Walk too close to a boss, bam a cutscene. Stumble across a completely unimpressive structure, yep get ready to get control taken away from you so Sonic can do a Marvel quip about it. This might sound like nitpicking, but I recently installed a bunch of mods just to remove all those moments where the game just doesn't let you keep running and it is INCREDIBLE how much of a difference it makes. All of those simple minigames become so much less of a bother when hopping in and out of them is made as smooth as possible. I'm honestly unsure why they would stop you so much in a SONIC game of all games, but I'm very thankfully for the modders who are working hard to provide some much needed quality of life for this game.

That being said, modders can't fix everything. I still haven't touched on the physics, combat or story yet. All of which are... fine? They're fine. They clearly aren't the best but they're definitely the best we've gotten in a Sonic game in quite some time. With this review I really just wanted to highlight the stuff that REALLY dragged down my experience. The boring objectives, the convoluted collectibles and the lack of flow the game has from one moment to the next. There are things I really like about this game though, I loved the characterization of the cast, probably for the first time since SA2. I loved the Super Sonic boss fights even if they were a bit simple. They were just such a cool spectacle, unlike any we've had in a Sonic game. And while I'm still a bit disappointed that Cyberspace just reused level designs from older games, I actually ended up enjoying them a lot. I like this foundation Sonic Team has set up for the next couple of entries of this franchise. I just hope next time, they actually let me play as Sonic.

#sonic frontiers #sonic #game review

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blockmeadow · 1 year

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An In-Depth Guide on the Types of Blockchain Nodes

The popularity of blockchain technology is growing worldwide. Businesses and individuals across the globe are leveraging blockchain for various purposes.

Whether it’s cryptocurrencies, IT, or healthcare, blockchain is spreading its wings in every dimension.

However, this concept is still new to most of the global population. While many still are in two minds regarding the security and credibility of blockchains, others want to explore the concept more.

If you are interested in learning the technology, understanding blockchain nodes is crucial. If you are a business or blockchain enthusiast wanting to develop a secure and affordable blockchain-based solution, knowledge about blockchain nodes will help you.

So, let’s understand blockchain nodes in-depth and their types.

What is Blockchain?

A blockchain is an immutable shared ledger storing transactions and tracking assets in a network. It’s a database where data is arranged in blocks instead of rows and columns, as seen in traditional databases.

The term “blockchain” is derived from two words – “block” and “chain”. Each verified transaction or record in a blockchain network is added to a block with a defined space. If this space is filled, new verified records are added to the next block attached or “chained” to the previous block through cryptography.

Blockchain technology was invented in 2008 by Satoshi Nakamoto, whose identity is unknown.

Its key elements are:

Decentralisation: Blockchain is a decentralised system that no single person owns, and anyone with permission can access it. It is also called the Distributed Ledger Technology (DLT) since it’s a distributed ledger containing related records and allowing users to store, share, and perform peer-to-peer transactions.

Immutability: Each record in a blockchain is timestamped to avoid tampering and double records. If there’s an error in a record, a new record with a correction needs to be added so that both records are visible.

Transparency: Most blockchains, except private ones, are open-source with no central authority. Hence, anyone can access its code and suggest changes, which increases mutual trust and transparency between members of the network.

Blockchain technology is used in different industries, from banking and finance to IT, supply chain, and healthcare. Its usage is growing fast, and you can also see businesses using the technology in video games, smart contracts, document verification, payments, and more. It is not only secure, cost-efficient, and easy to use but also faster and more accurate.

What are blockchain nodes?

Blockchain nodes are electronic devices with an IP address and connected to a blockchain network via the internet. Nodes are communication endpoints that allow users to interact with a blockchain.

Nodes enable a blockchain system to execute. It’s like a playground where everything happens. This playground consists of multiple blockchain platforms that can be private, public, or hybrid.

A blockchain node can perform different functions based on the requirements of the blockchain. Some of the basic tasks it can perform are:

Facilitating communication

Accepting or rejecting a transaction

Processing a transaction

Managing transactions

Storing blocks linked with cryptography

Why do you need blockchain nodes?

Blockchain technology ensures data integrity and enhances the network’s credibility. For this, the same ledger is distributed globally amongst multiple systems.

Since every block containing data in a blockchain is connected to the subsequent block via cryptography, if you want to change a record or block, you will need to change all the subsequent blocks. It’s done to maintain accuracy and consistency because each block has the hash of the previous block.

So, imagine if a blockchain network is confined to a single place. It will become easier for a hacker to modify block values and exploit the network. This is why blockchain is distributed around the world with no central hub administering it; hence, the concept of decentralisation was implemented.

Furthermore, every connected system or node spread worldwide will share the same data in order to preserve the network’s data integrity and accuracy. Even if one system’s ledger is modified, other systems containing this ledger will remain unsullied and act as proof of data integrity. This global distribution of blockchain among several nodes also enhances network resilience to attacks and natural calamities while increasing trustworthiness.

You need blockchain nodes for:

Enabling access: Blockchain nodes allow users to access a blockchain ledger easily. It will help you interact with the network seamlessly so you can view transactions occurring in the network, see the transaction details, and verify the records.

Maintaining the blockchain: Nodes maintain a blockchain network and help it grow. Each data block in the blockchain is added to a node’s storage. Next, the nodes are used to add new blocks to the network and synchronise the data, maintaining the ledger’s copy. To finally approve a block to be added to a blockchain, it must achieve consensus by a majority of the members.

Transaction processing: When a transaction happens in a blockchain, it is sent to its nodes. Some nodes participate in the network’s consensus algorithm based on their roles, while others are responsible for record-keeping.

Upon receiving a transaction request, the node can either accept or reject the transaction. It can store this data and send it back to the network’s peers. A node can also share the data with other nodes in the network to promote synchronisation.

How do blockchain nodes work?

So far, we have learned that blockchain technology maintains data integrity. But what really goes behind the curtains is what we will learn next.

To maintain data integrity, everyone in the network must know that each transaction is valid and there are no double records to facilitate any cheating.

Since there is no central authority to manage the network, achieving consensus is the way members can verify whether the transactions are valid or not. Network nodes achieve this among users and help secure a blockchain.

Consensus can have a set of rules for a blockchain to operate and confirm data validity. Since the blockchain can be large with a vast number of systems and users, a consensus algorithm is required to validate the information in the blocks. Proof of Work (PoW) and Proof of Stake (PoS) are popular consensus algorithms relying on nodes (full nodes) to enforce network rules and validate transactions.

Example: Bitcoin uses the PoW algorithm. Anyone is allowed to download the Bitcoin blockchain and verify blocks. This enables the network to be decentralised and increases its security. In this blockchain, anyone can run bitcoin nodes with a stable internet connection and proper hardware.

Types of Blockchain Nodes

There are different types of nodes providing different functionality. Even users interacting with a blockchain network can be called nodes. However, not every device in a blockchain network is a node and performs the same function.

Nodes in a blockchain network are classified depending upon their roles and the blockchain’s requirements. For example, a node can be used to maintain transaction records while other nodes might not perform this task.

A blockchain can have different nodes for users, clients, service providers, and others.

#1. Full Nodes

Full nodes are responsible for maintaining the entire transaction records in a blockchain network. They are regarded as the blockchain’s servers where the data is stored and maintained.

There are several governance models of a blockchain that full nodes can come under. If there are any improvements to be made to a blockchain, a majority of full nodes must be ready for it. So, it can be concluded that full nodes are given voting power in order to make any changes in a blockchain.

However, certain scenarios can also arise when a change is not implemented even after the majority of full nodes agree to the change. It can happen when a big decision has to be made.

For example, around 52% of full nodes agree to a change, but 48% do not (which is a close enough number). In such a case, a hard cryptocurrency fork may happen where the blockchain would be divided in half, and the action is non-backward compatible. When this happens, the newly created blockchain will work based on the changes suggested by the majority of full nodes, while the old blockchain continues to work like before.

There are two types of full nodes:

Pruned Full Nodes

Pruned nodes are given a specific memory capacity to store data. This means that any number of blocks can be added, but a full node can store only a limited number of blocks.

To maintain the ledger, pruned nodes can keep on downloading the block till it reaches the specified limit. Once the limit is attained, the node starts deleting the oldest blocks and making space for new ones in order to maintain the blockchain’s size. Nevertheless, it does not delete the old blocks completely since their sequence and metadata are still recorded in the blockchain, adhering to the Blockchain’s technology’s key principles.

Archival Full Nodes

Full nodes of this type are commonly found in a blockchain network. Archival full nodes maintain the complete blockchain, and they differ from pruned full nodes in terms of memory capacity. These nodes are of different types:

Miner nodes: You require certain nodes for high computations and solving complicated mathematical functions in order to verify records. This requires heavy computational power and consumes a high amount of energy in the process. Miner nodes are perfect for the mining process, which involves consensus algorithms like Proof of Work.

Authority nodes: Anyone can become a member or node in a public blockchain by syncing blockchain data in their systems. But in some cases, the blockchain must be administered, and data must be secured. This is where authority nodes come into play. They are used to authorise other nodes wanting to join a blockchain network. They can also define the access permissions of other nodes if they want to access a specific data channel.

Masternodes: They are full nodes with no power to add a new block to the network. They are used to maintain the ledger and verify transactions.

Staking nodes: These nodes validate transactions in a blockchain network and are responsible for maintaining the consensus algorithm. In the famous algorithm – Proof of Stake (PoS), staking nodes are used to stake or invest their money and verify the transaction. If they are successful at validating the transaction, they will get some rewards in return.

The staking nodes are selected based on defined rules like time spent on the blockchain network. These full nodes don’t need heavy computation power.

#2. Light Nodes

Light nodes are used to store data and provide only the required information to facilitate daily tasks or enable faster transactions. These nodes are also known as Simplified Payment Verification (SPV) nodes. These nodes don’t validate the blocks; instead, they just store headers of blocks.

#3. Super Nodes

Super nodes are used to perform certain special tasks and are implemented in some blockchains. It can be used to set or maintain the rules of a blockchain, implement a change in the protocol, etc.

#4. Lighting Nodes

Lighting nodes build an individual with a user, pushing all the transactions to the main blockchain. This facilitates instantaneous transactions while reducing the cost involved in the transaction since the load gets reduced on the network.

These types of nodes were created to solve the issue of blockchain network congestion which delays transactions.

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datasportsgroup · 1 year

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Boosting Business Performance With Sports Data

Everyone enjoys watching sports with in-depth and informative analysis. Have we ever considered how sportsmen and commentators keep sports so interesting for us voracious viewers?

It is big data that is playing a big role in making things possible. This idea is not necessarily something new. In actuality, data analytics was first applied to the sports business in the early 1990s. Across industries, decision-making driven by data sources has become crucial for any company to succeed. The sports sector, however, has been at the forefront of performance analytics.

Analytics has been in the forefront of sports since around the 1970s but it was only after the publication of the book Money ball by Michael Lewis that choices about player performance and the key to evaluating baseball players successfully were made using sabermetrics.

As analytics software has developed, it is now possible to digitally monitor videos of teams engaged in different sports. And other organizations outside baseball teams are making use of this technology. The National Football League (NFL) has been doing this well for the past few years and is aware of how crucial it is to be able to monitor individual player performance using sports analytics and statistics.

Data Sports Group is a worldwide sports data provider which is reliable and fast and has the widest selection of sports data and statistics.

With technological advancement, sports companies can monitor what people are watching, and their digital engagement in order to manipulate their streaming behavior. A more immersive experience is being created using Augmented Reality. They can utilize analytics to interact with those fans through social media by analyzing opinions from social media streams to learn what they are thinking and doing. Customer engagement can also be carried out within the stadium to track fan movements by engaging in electronic tickets, fingerprint scans, or even retinal scans. In an effort to enhance the entire experience of local sports fans and increase revenue, sports organizations engage software companies to measure data that may help with useful insights.

Sports organizations can acquire a deeper insight into fan behavior before they enter the stadium and after they leave by connecting with other stakeholders, such as communications firms, payment services, and merchants. This not only makes it easier to target individuals with important messages about games and promotions, but it may also give municipality’s useful information on crowd control. A business can improve operations in areas like logistics, supply-chain management, and sourcing with the support of analytics from all these various fields. Organizations can use savvy data analysis in sports to enhance human resources procedures and managing customer relations by utilizing cutting-edge analytics tools.

Sports is a big industry for building partnerships and alliances that focuses on the trading of players and advertising them. Competition is at the heart of both business and sport. You must adopt the same strategies as the industry leaders but execute them more quickly and effectively for better results.

Strategies to use in your business:

For a greater understanding of how your customers feel about your company or the product you are marketing, invest in data analysis technology.

To better connect with target audiences, use social media data analysis.

With data-driven campaigns, you can efficiently plan your marketing efforts and target the correct demographic.

Utilize data analysis to increase clients' trust and reduce possible customer dissatisfaction.

In the coming years, data usage in the sports industry will only increase. The sports data analytics market is predicted to reach a staggering value of $4 billion by the end of 2022. When you consider how extensively and successfully data is being used in the field of sports, you can see how game-changing applications, impact, and the extent of a similar strategy in the business sector.

Keeping the business updated helps in succeeding and climbing the ladder upwards in the business sector. With Data Sports Group, reliable, effective data and affordable sports data API can be found. Therefore, scroll through the Data Sports Group which is the leading sports data feed provider website, and discover the ideal data solutions for your business.

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pinervisa · 2 years

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Tor messenger qndroid

#Tor messenger qndroid android#

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Tor Messenger, as mentioned above, was never able to leave beta and a lack of resources was preventing responses to bug reports, let along feature requests. Linking back to that is the final issue of resources. So Tor Messenger simply couldn’t be what the developers had intended from the start. That’s in spite of the use of Tor to prevent the tracking of what route, exactly, the data had been pushed over and the implementation of Off-the-Record messaging. Although more difficult, those could ultimately still be used to identify users. Moreover, because the goal was also to create a messenger to be used across various social platforms – such as Facebook Messenger – participants in the beta were still revealing patterns of use. As things currently stood, even Tor Messenger has issues with metadata collection and leaks due to the dependence on server-client relationships and goals pertaining to cross-platform compatibility. That program is being ported over to Thunderbird, which gave the developers an opportunity to step back and reexamine their efforts with Tor Messenger.Ī thorough assessment, in addition to highlighting the relatively low adoption rate for the messenger itself, seems to have immediately thrust two other issues into the spotlight. The first of those is a meta-data problem that needs to be overcome to create a truly secure messaging platform.

#Tor messenger qndroid software#

Namely, the software product underpinning the messenger, Instantbird, is no longer in development or maintained. Interestingly enough, the decision seems to stem from a single challenge that developers on the project were facing – also given as the first reason. That’s according to a new announcement on The Tor Project’s official blog, which sites three primary reasons for dropping the messenger. The Tor Project will be closing down its privacy-focused Tor Messenger project after undergoing no fewer than 11 beta iterations since 2015. smarthphone-comparisions Smartphone Comparisons.ultimate-tech-gift Ultimate Tech Gift Guides.chinese-smarthphones Chinese Smartphones.

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With this app, you can communicate with your friends quickly, wherever you are, and anytime. These fun images are very similar to the classic LINE giant emoticons, and they really help bring your conversations to life.įacebook Messenger comes in really handy for anyone who regularly uses Facebook (which is probably just about everyone). One of the best parts of Facebook Messenger is its stickers collection, which you can easily use to customize your conversations. Plus, you can also make VoIP voice calls from the application itself. You can also respond via standard text message (phone to phone) if the person you want to talk to doesn't have Facebook (or isn't logged on to it). Each conversation is a bubble, and you can conveniently move them around your device's screen.įacebook Messenger lets you choose between the sound and vibrating alerts for every message you receive.

#Tor messenger qndroid windows#

You can also include several recipients and open chat windows with several people at the same time. This information will also appear and be saved in the browser version of your PC.Īs with other instant messaging apps, in Facebook Messenger, you can share images or your location within the text messages. Send and receive text messages and establish exchanges on your mobile device if you're away from your computer. Facebook Messenger is the official Facebook messaging app that will allow you to chat with all your friends from the popular social network.

#Tor messenger qndroid

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flavortouch7 · 2 years

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Wht is the In-Crowd Won't Tell You About Slot

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spectaclespencer · 3 years

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P.H. // Part 1; Alone

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Here’s the first chapter! Let me know what you think <3 this is based off of this request I got. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please know I know this theme/part has little to nothing to do with the actual meaning of the song, but some lines work if you ignore the rest 😅

Summary; After Gideon leaves, Reader takes up chess to comfort Spencer through the difficult time.

Category; Fluff, Angst(?), Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings; Sad Spencer otherwise none!

Word Count; 3.5k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next

It started when I found Spencer one morning. He had fallen asleep on a chair at the bau, and he explained to me that he’d been waiting for Gideon because he promised to play chess with Spencer that night.

“Is Hotch in yet?”

“No, he will be soon. We have a case, JJ is gonna brief us and we leave in 30.”

He thanked me and left the room, with his head down. He kept the same mood during the briefing, he kept drifting off as JJ was talking. Spencer was known to be stuck in his head often, but this was far more unusual behaviour. I figured maybe he slept wrong, or maybe just was simply looking forward to playing chess with Gideon. That was their usual routine, to have a game or two after cases to relax. It was understandable to see him on edge after not hearing from him all night.

As we got on the jet he didn’t sit with me on the couch right away as he usually did, instead he walked over to Hotch in the back corner. I craned my neck to try and see what he was doing and hear what he was saying. He spoke in soft whispers, seemingly asking questions I assumed were about Gideon’s presence. I saw Hotch shake his head, to which Spencer’s expression dropped. He thanked him, then made his way over to the couch beside me.

“You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a quick nod -- yet didn’t meet my eyes -- then curled up at the end of the couch to presumably take a nap before we landed.

We were all worried about Gideon, none of us had heard from him since the last case. We figured he just needed a break from the chaos; having a loved one die would take a toll on any of us. It was logical really, any one of the team would need time to recover when presented with that situation.

Spencer remained more quiet throughout the case, not engaging in conversation when it wasn’t crucial to the work. We ended up sharing rooms but even then he didn’t budge. He mostly sat in the corner and played chess against himself, often zoning out and staring at the wall. It was hard to see, and even harder to sit back and let him try to get through it. I could tell he was fighting himself in his head, probably going over scenarios on Gideon’s whereabouts. I imagine the stress was affecting him heavily -- or at least it was clear with the way his forehead had been creased all night.

Chess. Nobody on the team had a fair shot at him besides Gideon. Sitting there staring at the pieces probably wasn’t doing him too good, only making him worry more.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care because I did, but when it comes to certain things Spencer can be defensive and refuse help, so I wanted to give him a chance to get better. It wasn’t unlike him to refuse help, and I didn’t want to make the situation worse by opening my mouth. Instead, I opted to ask, “Mind if I join in for a game?”

“What? Uh- no it’s fine. I mean, okay yes. Sure,” Spencer stuttered, spooked by my sudden appearance beside him.

“Stop slouching, you’re gonna make your posture even worse,” I chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder to remind him. He shot me a small smile, watching as I rounded the table to sit across from him. I wasn’t too good of a player, but I wanted to make Spencer feel just a little less alone.

“Do you even know how to play?”

“Ouch,” I mocked offense, slapping a hand over my heart. “So cruel, Spencer.”

He raised his eyebrows in a form of asking again, to which I replied with, “Kind of. I haven’t played for years but I’ve observed you.”

“Y-you’ve observed me?” Spencer questioned, resetting the chess pieces on the board.

“Well, yeah. Kind of hard not to. You’re a pretty interesting guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I smiled when he finally made eye contact with me. He looked tired -- more so than usual -- with his eyebags a deeper shade than they were normally.

The game didn’t last long. In only seven minutes, he managed to beat me. I groaned at my loss, lips pulled into a tight line. Spencer didn’t react, however.

“Okay that’s enough for me,” I said, heading over to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. “Goodnight Spence. Get some sleep. No offense but you look like you need it.”

He hummed at me, cleaning up the table before he climbed into his own bed.

I could tell he didn’t sleep much that night, as he kept a lamp on and littered his bed with various books. He looked cute, all swaddled up in the blanket he brings with him on every case for a sense of stability. His glasses were perched on his nose, and he was chewing his fingernails -- a habit I’ve tried to get him to kick over the past two years.

We didn’t talk during the night, but we both knew that each other were awake. I was kept up by my thoughts, trying to figure out how to get Spencer out of his slump. Re-learning how to play chess seemed like a decent enough idea -- yet one that would take some time. I was proved tonight that my skill needed to be greatly improved. It was nice in the moment, but realistically it would take a few weeks, if not more, to get the hang of.

The next day at the precinct I was stationed at the map, trying to figure out our geographical profile. I heard faint chattering coming from outside, and looked over my shoulder to see Spencer and Derek talking. I couldn’t hear much, but I did get that Spencer mumbled about calling Gideon, to which Derek answered that he might’ve just missed the call. It was possible, but likely deeper than that.

“Six times? Six calls? Something’s wrong,” Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes.

I didn’t intervene with the conversation, instead deciding to finally speak to him about it after the case had ended.

On the last day, we all headed to our rooms after grabbing some dinner, to get a good rest before we took off early the next morning.

“Hey Spence, you awake?”

He hummed in response, and I could hear the rustle of the sheets as he rolled over in his bed to face me.

“I know you’re worried about Gideon. How about when we get back tomorrow I’ll drive you down to his cabin? We can go check on him.

“Would you really?” he asked softly. I couldn’t see him fully in the darkness, but I could sense he was looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Of course. I don’t like seeing you this stressed and down. I want to help.”

“Thanks ____, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

After our conversation it was like a blanket of grey was lifted over his head. He settled in more, drifting off to sleep within minutes. I hated seeing him sad, and I did my best to try and fix his mood whenever I could. Spencer didn’t like change, I knew that, and the team knows that. A part of me had a sneaking suspicion that Gideon wasn’t coming back, and I had fear for what that would mean for Spencer.

-----

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I asked, pulling up in front of the cabin and turning off the engine. The only sounds were the faint hum of rain outside, splattering against the windows.

Spencer shook his head and took a deep breath, before unbuckling himself and opening his door. He mumbled something about being right back, as he headed off towards the building. It wasn’t dark yet -- only being four pm -- but it wasn’t too light either.

It looked as if the lights inside the cabin were off, and I could just hardly see Spencer as he knocked on the door. He waited on the porch for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would come to the door.

Nobody did.

It was hard to just sit there and watch, as his desperation grew stronger by the millisecond.

-----

I took deep breaths, trying to even out my intake of air and remain calm. When nobody answered the fifth time that I knocked, I reluctantly grabbed a hold of the knob and turned it. Much to my surprise the door opened, creaking inch by inch as I stood there unmoving.

“Gideon?” I called into the home, taking one step inside. “Jason?”

I wasn’t greeted with an answer, he didn’t come to the door and thank me for coming to visit. It was eerily quiet -- so quiet I took a few more steps inside to create some sort of volume.

“Hello?” I spoke again, louder this time. Shutting the door behind me I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the entrance.

The place had been mainly cleared out, there weren’t many personal items behind. I stalked over to the kitchen, to see if there was any trace of someone within the last few days. It’s been officially a week and a half since anyone had last heard from him that I was aware of. I thought someone must have eaten, or at least left a bit of a mess behind them that would signal a presence.

As I turned the corner to enter the new room I noticed something on the table. I stopped in my tracks, leaning down to take a closer look.

Gideon’s badge, gun, and an envelope.

I swallowed thickly, walking around the table and took a seat in front of the items. When I saw the envelope had my name on it, my heart dropped. With shaky hands I picked up the paper and opened it, seeing there was a letter inside.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.

You must be frightened, I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. But then I also never envisioned writing this letter. I’ve searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I’m doing, all I’ve come up with is: a profiler needs to have solid footing. I- I don’t think I do anymore. The world confuses me. The cruelty, indifference, tragedy.

I stopped there, my eyesight becoming blurry from tears. I shoved the letter in my pocket, not caring at the moment if it got crumpled or not.

I was out of the cabin in no time -- choosing not to stay there and sulk in a deeper sadness.

-----

Waiting in the car for Spencer felt like torture. It was difficult, letting him go in there alone to be met with possibly no answers. I was thrown out of my thoughts by the sound of the cabin door slamming shut, Spencer jogging over to the car.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, red flags hanging immediately as he climbed in the car, tear soaked face pointed down towards his lap. It took me a moment to realize he was crying -- the rain had completely soaked through his top layer of clothes. He didn’t reply with words, instead reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. He handed it over to me, still not meeting my eyes.

I unfolded it and began to read -- it was hard, through the tear stains smudging the ink across the page.

“Oh, Spence…” I whispered and stopped after the first few sentences, leaving the rest for him. I didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him.

“He’s gone,” Spencer sniffled, wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his nearly drenched jacket. “He just left. He didn’t say goodbye. He left me a note,” he froze, taking a few deep breaths. “Just like my dad did when I was a kid.”

“It’ll be okay. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s okay,” I assured him. “You know he cares about you, right?”

“I know he is. It’s just-” he started, trying to find the right words between his gasping for more air. “Can you just take me home, please.”

I nodded, while turning the car back on to drive away. Spencer kept his gaze towards the window, refusing to let me see his face. I’m selfishly almost glad for it, because I don’t know if seeing his heartbreak is something I could handle.

It was a long, quiet drive, taking around an hour and a half to finally reach his apartment. He scrambled out of the car fast, but I still walked him up as I usually did. He got to the door before me, thanking me for driving him home. He shut the door just as I got fully up the stairs, leaving me standing with my mouth open.

‘Baby, when you fought me at the door

Kinda hard to force what's natural

Maybe you don't want what you need most’

-----

The next day when he came over after work he was almost back to normal. It was weird to see, to see such a shift in his behaviour after less than twenty-four hours. As much as he tried to hide it, I could tell just how hard it was for him. The sudden change didn’t go well with anyone, we’d all been informed that Gideon wouldn’t be returning and that he’d moved on from the BAU. It was especially hard on Spencer too, since Elle had just left not too long ago, and then Emily joined the team. First he loses a friend, someone who truly understood him as I did, and then someone he considered a father figure.

And neither of them had said goodbye to his face. It was scary, knowing a member of your team could walk out and never return before you know it.

We were seated on the couch, a game of chess displayed on the middle cushion between us.

It wasn’t anywhere near a fair game -- Spencer’s skills were still far ahead of mine. However I noticed it made him smile, and that’s all I wanted. For him to feel loved, and secured. It was a sense of grounding, a routine that was regular in his life. I still wasn’t very good -- not having played since high school and that night on the last case. But I downloaded an audiobook and several player’s guides for the plane ride home to study, because I wanted to learn for Spencer’s sake. However I soon realized it was easier to watch Spencer and how he plays, and to ask him questions. He seemed to enjoy it, having someone else in his life to play with.. And he loved to teach, to help people learn. He was so good at it too, his big brain being used to help people no matter the context.

Eventually he won the game as usual, causing me to groan in frustration..

“You bastard.”

“Not my fault you kinda suck,” he laughed bashfully, lips curling up into a small smile. It was nice to see a bit of happiness on his face, no matter how temporary.

“You’re so rude to me,” I joked, moving the board to the coffee table. “I thought we were friends.”

It was silent for a few moments, with me figuring out what I was going to say next.

“Spencer I know you haven’t wanted my help, but please tell me what I can do for you. Tell me how you feel, at least?”

‘Maybe you don't want what you need most’

“It’s nothing, ____,” he breathed, looking away from me and instead at the wall the couch was facing. He could see our reflection on the blank tv, and instead opted to just look down at his lap. “I’m better now.”

‘You ain't even there for me

Now you're scared to be alone’

“Respectfully, that’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on. I know you don’t want to talk about this but at least give me something. Don’t keep it all in. It’s not healthy.”

His face screwed up at my words, eyebrows furrowed and lips twitching. I could tell he knew I was right, as much as he hated it.

“I’m just- I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Spencer whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

‘Got me thinkin' that you scared of yourself, not me’

It all made sense -- the way he’d been distancing himself lately. It took me promising candy and Star Trek for him to come over tonight, and even then he almost declined. Too many blows to the heart made him afraid to get attached. He didn’t want anyone else from his life to disappear in a flash.

“Look at me,” I said, and he snapped his head to face me. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t claim to be far in the future, but right now? I’m here. You’re stuck with me for a while, Spencer.”

He smiled, closing his eyes as a stray tear graced across his cheek. I used my thumb to wipe it away, and pulled him into a tight hug. He relaxed against me, I felt the tensions in his shoulders deflate as I held him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His breath shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around my middle tighter, pushing his face into my shoulder to muffle his crying.

We sat for a while, my hands tracing patterns along his back. It took a few minutes for his cries to calm down, but eventually his breathing evened out with only a few hiccups here and there. He was practically sitting in my lap with his legs flung over mine, suddenly not caring about his personal space. I couldn’t blame him -- the boy was so touch starved he so clearly craved all contact he consented to.

“Do you want to spend the night?” I asked, quietly so I didn’t scare him with the sudden sound.

“Could I please?”

“Of course,” I smiled, pulling away. He still held on tight, not wanting to let go.

We made our way to my bedroom, repeating our usual routine. This wasn’t the first time we’d had a sleepover, and it won’t be the last I’m sure. Sometimes after particularly harder cases he would spend the night, just to be close to someone.

I went into the bathroom to change, giving him the opportunity to do the same. When I returned, he was dressed in a t-shirt and flannel pants he left at my place for sleepovers like this. He was already in bed, and when he saw that I was done in the bathroom he lifted the side of the blanket to welcome me in.

I joined him, grinning as he scooted over and pressed his back to my chest. I felt him breathing softly, my right arm slung over his torso to bring him in closer. He held onto my hand, and didn’t let me drift away. I was happy to comply, happy to feel his body warmth radiate through me.

“Thank you, ____. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Spence.”

From that day on for the foreseeable future, I swore to myself to have check-ins with Spencer whenever it seemed necessary. Whether it was in the form of words, sleepovers, movie nights, or chess.

His smile got brighter everyday, and eventually he no longer felt as much weight on himself a few weeks down the road. He still cried to me about how he missed Gideon, but it had gotten less frequent. And I was always there for him, offering my shoulder and the promise of my embrace. I knew he appreciated it too.

After a few months since our first game, I beat him in a game of chess. We were on the jet on the way to Montana for a case, and Derek was sitting beside Spencer. He kept annoying him, doing little things like twisting his hair and fanning him with files. Spencer kept shrieking quietly -- trying not to alert Hotch of the bickering.

“Checkmate,” I said, biting back a smile.

“What?!” Spencer froze, arm raised in what looked like to be a poor attempt of whacking Derek’s head.

“Awe, pretty boy. You’ll get her next time,” Derek threw his head back in laughter.

“What?” Spencer repeated quieter, eyes darting across the board, likely running calculations in his head.

“Better luck next time,” I smirked, tilting my head to the side. I wiggled my eyebrows, my small victory boosting my ego.

Spencer tried to keep a neutral face, but I could see by the tension in his cheekbones that he was happy. He was enjoying it.

-----

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serasvictoria · 3 years

Text

I've Got Dreams To Remember

Pairing: Incubus Hvitserk/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 8244 (yeah, I don't know what happened either)

Summary: A certain young man keeps showing up in your very x-rated dreams.

Notes: I fully realise that the contents of this might not be for everyone, so I’ll just say that according to some stories Incubi are capable of shapeshifting. A certain aspect of this has been inspired by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie's absolutely brilliant fic, Take Me, so if you've read that you'll know what I'm talking about. And if you haven’t read it, what the hell are you doing? READ IT.

There is another moodboard all the way at the end of this to provide a visual for something that I describe in this so have a look at it at the end.

Tagging: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @vikingstrash @quantumlocked310

He only ever came to you in your dreams.

The dreams were interesting to say the least and he always played a very big part in them. You often wondered what deep and dark recesses of your brain had conjured him up, because you would definitely remember if you had encountered someone like him in real life.

It first started about a month ago. You’d gotten out of a particularly nasty relationship a few months before. You were still trying to navigate your way through this new life that you now had and while your friends were busy with trying to get you back onto the dating scene, you persisted in that regard. You weren’t looking for a new man in your life, but you still had needs. Sure, you had your toys, but they were a somewhat poor substitute when what you really wanted was for someone to grab your ass, lift you up and fuck you up against a wall.

Maybe that was where he had come from. Because that was exactly the scenario that you got the first time that he showed up.

It was a fairly generic one where dreams were concerned. You were in a bar with some people, a wide assortment of people that you knew in real life, when you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You looked up and stared straight into the half shaded face of a young man whose eyes you couldn’t actually make out, but you saw the smile that graced his lips and boy was it hungry. You only glanced away for a second and when you looked back again, he was already gone. You’d resigned yourself to missing your chance, when a hand suddenly grasped your wrist, dragged you outside to a nearby alleyway and gave you exactly what you’d been thinking of during your waking hours.

When you woke up, you had never found yourself feeling so satisfied before. You threw the blankets over your head, rolled over and tried to fall asleep again, but sleep didn’t take you for a second time that morning sadly enough. Later that day, after getting out of the shower and glancing in the mirror before combing your hair, you stared at your reflection in confusion or to be more precise at your bare skin. In your dream, your mystery lover had bitten your shoulder and there, right there on your shoulder, were teeth marks. But that was impossible, right? Maybe the dream had been that intense that it had somehow tricked your body into believing that it had been real? Did things like that even happen?

You didn’t dream of him the next night. Nor the following five nights. Not that you were keeping track or anything. He eventually put in another appearance though. The setting for that dream wasn’t particularly inventive either and you were almost embarrassed that your mind was even coming up with stuff that gave you the impression that they should be storylines in bad porn movies. It was a department store this time and you were looking at underwear. Your fingers continuously ran over the lace trims of various bras and touched the silky panties that came with them.

Again, you felt eyes on you and it was the same young man as from your previous dream. Apparently, dream you was in a frisky mood so you held up various bras in front of your chest, most of which he disapproved of, until you came across a bright red lace number that he seemed to like. When he finally found you in the fitting room shortly after, you were wearing the set that he had wanted to see you in before tearing it off your body and fucking you up against the full length mirror.

That was the first time that you’d gotten a good look at his face. Frankly, you were impressed with what your mind had come up with. He had long dirty blonde hair that he wore in a ponytail and that you longed to see loose. His eyes were green one time and when you looked again they seemed brown. That was one of the parts about him that mystified you. That and the part where you constantly wanted to kiss the tip of his nose and his ears. That was definitely an odd experience to say the least.

He was tall and lithe of build, but with surprising strength in his arms. The way that he would hold you was intense, like he never wanted to let you go. When his shirt came off, you found yourself staring at the intricate tattoo that covered most of his left bicep and part of his chest. It was some kind of Viking design and it looked old, but it was probably meant to look like that. You found yourself tracing it with your finger a number of times, something that seemed to amuse him.

Whenever you woke up, you were annoyed that you had been torn out of this perfect little dream world. The dream world where you were fucked six ways from Sunday. You were so thirsty for this young man that you had created that he was in your nighttime fantasies pretty much every single night now. In your dreams he left you so satisfied that you had no idea why you ever wanted to leave. If only you could stay asleep and feel this bliss forever. What would make them even more amazing was if the fantasies were better. You always swore that you were one dream away from having him come round to your house so he could have a closer look at your plumbing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rolling over on your side, you looked at the man next to you in the bed. Despite the fact that you had been dreaming about him almost every single night for the past two weeks, you had never actually heard him talk. You’d heard him moan and groan several times, but to hear his lips form actual sentences was a new thing.

“Nothing,” you replied with a smile.

“I can read your thoughts, you know.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I never told you?” He grinned at you and ran his fingers up and down your bare arm. “Maybe I could have told you if you’d wanted to talk, but you only want me for my body.”

“What? I don’t… I never…” You were flustered and looking for words after being so brutally called out. “It was never like…”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s what I do.” Since he saw the obvious confusion on your face, he continued. “I’ve been feeding off you this entire time.”

“Feeding off me? But I never feed you anything.”

“Your orgasms.” A frown creased your brow and he started laughing again before leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. “It’s what I need to sustain myself. I can eat other food as well, but it never quite fills me up the way orgasms do.”

“So the reason that you made me come multiple times is…”

“Because it fills me. Not my belly, mind you, but on a deeper level.” He cupped your chin and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I suppose a thank you is in order.” His hand slipped down, gently gripping your neck, applying just the slightest bit of pressure, before moving down to it’s destination and plucking at your nipple almost idly. He was gearing you up for another round and you found that you couldn’t actually remember how many times he had made you come already. “Can I thank you with this body that you can’t get enough of?”

“Wait.”

“So now you want to talk?” He continued his ministrations on your chest as if you hadn’t been talking at all. You caught the playful smirk on his lips before he leaned in and started sucking marks on your neck. “What do you want to know?”

“You say you feed off me, but doesn't that mean that you want to eat me?”

“And why would I want to do that? I like to use my mouth for other things,” he said with a low chuckle. You hissed through your teeth when he sank his teeth into your skin suddenly and then licked the spot where he had bitten you. “Would be a waste to eat you anyway.”

“So the reason that you’re able to…”

He pulled away so he could look you in the eye. He grinned as he pushed his hand against your shoulder and he got on top of you as soon as you were laying on your back. “Are you getting shy on me now? After everything that we’ve done?” He nudged your legs apart and you could feel his erection pressing into your thigh. “But yes, that’s why my erections last so long. The aim of the game is not to come myself, but to make sure that you do.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I beat myself off when you wake up. It’s not like I can’t climax myself, but I can make sure that I stay hard for as long as I need to.” You could feel his tip pressing against your entrance, ready to slide in at any second. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in a dream.”

“Anything?”

“Sure. Wanna see?”

You didn’t know what he had planned, but you nodded anyway. His eyes lit up, his irises practically glowing green right now, and he started grinning, eager to show you what else he could do. He snapped his fingers and all of a sudden you were sitting on a red velvet sofa in what appeared to be some kind of high end bar. Your legs were wide open with him on his knees in front of you, his lips already on the inside of your knee and slowly working his way up.

“So you can change locations?”

“Honey, I can change everything.” You felt his teeth on the inside of your thigh, nipping at your skin playfully, mere inches away from the top of your legs. “Is the setting not to your liking?”

“How did you even come up with this place?”

“Experience?” He briefly looked up at you and shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Not telling.” He stuck his tongue out at you and then dipped his head down to lick a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “I can never get enough of how you taste.” He moaned against your core. He spent most of his time with his face between your legs in your dreams. With what he’d revealed earlier, about how he fed on your orgasms, maybe that was the place where he could taste it the best? “Not really.” You moaned loudly when he spoke, because his voice was adding vibrations to what he was doing. You’d entirely forgotten that he had mentioned that he was able to hear your thoughts. “You just taste real good.”

A single finger slid inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. When he adds another, you start whimpering and you know that you’re going to come soon. If you could, you’d have him in this position all the time. There had never been anyone in your life who had been this good at eating you out and who was so clearly enjoying himself as well. Your last boyfriend had been a disaster on that front, more often than not he would skip foreplay entirely, but he’d still expect you to suck his dick whenever he felt like it. Figures that you’d only be able to find an enthusiastic lover in your dreams.

Guys like that simply didn’t exist in real life.

You reach down to thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture makes him suck at your clit harder and thrust his fingers in deeper than before. He was practically devouring you at this point, lapping up your juices and making sounds that told you that he hadn’t been lying when he told you that he liked how you tasted. It was almost as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. You keened out a noise as another orgasm positively engulfed you. You’d push him away and close your thighs if you could, but he had wrapped his arms around your thighs and was using all his strength to keep them wide open. Your muscles were tight as a bowstring, your back arched and pushed you up into a position that would start to hurt if you stayed in it for too long. He was relentless though, ignoring your discomfort and continuing his assault until he had managed to pull yet another climax out of your shuddering body.

When he finally released you, you collapsed onto the sofa, your entire body sticky with sweat. You blinked a few times to stop yourself from seeing stars and when you heard him chuckle, you swatted your hand in his general direction without actually hitting him. It took you a couple of minutes, but you eventually managed to sit upright again when your lungs stopped burning. He was still on his knees in front of you with an incredibly smug impression plastered all over his face. You nudged your foot against his shoulder and he fell backwards dramatically. Your face twisted when you felt the velvet against your sweaty body. It had felt pleasant on your bare skin before, but not anymore.

“I can do something about that,” he said cheerily and snapped his fingers again. When he saw the look on your face when you noticed where you were, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “No good?”

“This is terrible,” you replied with a wide grin. “I mean. Honestly.”

The flashing light underneath you made you laugh. He’d pulled this one from your bad sex fantasies again. A piece of paper slid into the tray on the side. He picked it up, looked at it with a frown before turning the piece of paper over so you could see it.

“I think there’s something wrong with this printer.” He shook his head and pressed a few buttons underneath your leg. “It really needs fixing.”

“Think you can fix it?”

“I can try.” He pushed his hands underneath your ass just as the light flashed again and a few seconds later he showed you the black and white printout of your behind with his fingers shoved in between you and the glass that you were sitting on. “That’s beautiful. Think I might have to frame that.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“I think that it’s funny.” He pressed his lips on yours hungrily and you could still taste yourself on his tongue. “I got this from your mind, remember? I really think we might have to work on the state of your fantasies though. They really could be a lot more inventive.”

“Maybe I’m just not very original.”

“You’re just not giving yourself enough credit, sweetheart.”

“Maybe.” You nipped at his lower lip and then pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose which was probably a little too gentle considering all the other stuff that you’d gotten up that night, but you hardly cared anymore. “You can probably come up with something a lot better.”

“I can try, but you’re probably going to be disappointed.”

One snap of his fingers and suddenly you were in the dark. You could also tell that you were alone. The other two times, you could always feel him around you, but not this time. You hugged your arms around your torso, feeling cold for no reason at all. All of a sudden a couple of lights switched on, bathing the room in red light, and you realised that you were standing on a stage. When you glanced at the side, you could see a pole right next to you. You instinctively reached out for it, feeling the cool metal against your palm and you held it as you walked in a circle around it. There were full length mirrors all around you and you briefly looked at your reflection.

The outfit that you wore left little to the imagination which was probably the point when you took the location into account. You were wearing a red triangle bikini top and a black pair of shorts that half your ass was hanging out of. The shoes, the infamous stripper heels naturally, had plastic, see-through straps and the platform heels had a iridescent sparkle to it.

When you had done a turn, your eyes scanned the place and you could see him sitting on a chair right next to the stage, looking up at you expectantly. He obviously wanted a show so why not give him one? Holding onto the pole, you slid down until you were on your knees and then you started skimming your hands up and down your chest. He was completely enraptured and kept reaching down to readjust himself in his trousers. Given how he usually remained rockhard throughout these dreams, the skinny jeans that he was wearing right now were probably incredibly uncomfortable.

You crawled over to where he was sitting. When you had reached the edge, you reached out to grab him by his shirt and pulled him up out of his seat. His eyes widened for a second or two before he composed himself again. He couldn’t resist leaning in when your face came closer to his, but you merely ghosted your lips over his before pushing him back into his chair.

“No touching the stripper,” you chided and then wagged a finger at him. “Or I’ll ask security to kick you out.”

“But you’re allowed to touch me?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d have me kicked out?”

“No way.” He leaned back in his chair, arm hanging over the back and he started sipping at a cocktail that suddenly materialised in his hand. “Keep going.”

The only problem there was that you had no clue what strippers even did. Sure you’d seen a video, but those women were a lot more athletic than you were. You’d also seen Showgirls once, but that movie probably wasn’t the best example about what to do. The only thing that you had learned from that movie was how not to have sex in a pool and that licking a stripper pole wasn’t particularly sexy, just incredibly unhygienic. You swung your legs over the edge of the stage and put your feet on the arm rests of his chair, practically daring him to touch you. Having caught your intent, he didn’t move and then he had the audacity to feign indifference.

Sliding off the stage, you climbed onto his lap instead and started gyrating your hips against his. You reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulled his head back and dragged your lips down the column of his throat. When he grabbed your ass, you slapped his cheek with your free hand.

“No touching,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m not telling you again.”

“Damn, baby.” He sounded impressed by how well you were taking control of this new situation. “That is such a fucking turn-on.” You pulled on his hair harder and since your mouth was still close to his ear, you took his earlobe between your teeth and gave it a gentle tug. “Holy shit. You’re a fucking natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

You leaned back so you could look him in the eye. His eyes sparkled with obvious excitement and a deeper, more animalistic need. Like he could grab you at any moment, throw you onto the stage and fuck you right there if you pushed him too far. Very tempting. Reaching to the back of your neck, you pulled at the bow that held the strings of the halterneck together and when it was loosened, they fell down your shoulders. You pushed the cups down until they hung loosely around your chest. The only thing that was keeping the top on was the string that tied together around your back.

His eyes flitted down to your chest and then back up to your face again. You wanted him to touch you, but after telling him off a few times, you weren’t sure if he was going to. So you placed your hand on the back of his head and pressed him against your chest instead. You felt him smile against your skin and then his lips started moving, shifting in the direction of your nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine and you looked up suddenly. You had the odd feeling that there was another set of eyes on you, but that was impossible since the two of you were the only people here. Looking up at the bar, you saw a young man who was leaning against the bar and watching the two of you intently. He was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit, his long hair loose and hanging down over his shoulders. Even in this odd red light, you could tell that his skin was too pale, so white that it was almost translucent and when he grinned at you, you could see that his canines were too long, too pointy. Without realising it yourself, you had frozen entirely and the young man underneath you had sensed it, looking up at you in confusion before following your eyes.

“What the fuck, man!” He suddenly shouted at the other guy, anger flashing behind his eyes. “The hell are you doing here? Fuck off!” The man at the bar shrugged and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” he said with a deep sigh. “Our mother would keep tabs on us when we were kids to make sure that we didn’t get into any trouble. You have any idea how weird it is when your mother enters the dreams where you’re trying to get off with a girl? Fucking embarrasing.” He raised his eyebrows at you when he noticed that you were trying to suppress a laugh and pinched your side. “I don’t know how the fuck it works, but my mother taught the little shit how to do it as well and so he just… I dunno… shows up sometimes like the little creep that he is.”

“Does that mean that he’ll come back?”

“No. He just likes to remind me that he can do it from time to time.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head against your chest. “But fuck that. I don’t want to talk about my asshole brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“Ah shit. No. Not talking about them.” He pulled at the string on your back, pulled the bikini top from your body and threw it on the stage. “So this particular fantasy is ruined now. Let's start again, shall we?”

“Can’t we salvage it?”

“I’ve got something better.” The look on his face told you that this had the potential to be really good. “Do you trust me?”

“How bad is this going to be?” He tilted his head to the side, that wasn’t the answer that he had wanted to hear. “Yes.”

“I don’t do this a lot so bear with me alright?”

Another snap of the fingers and the strip bar starts to fade away. You were sitting on a bed now and you were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked old. The new location was just as red (he really did seem to like that colour), but it didn’t look that special to you. In fact, it looked like a fairly cheap love motel, one where lovers would retreat to so they could enjoy each other's company for about an hour before going their separate ways again.

You got up from the bed and walked over to a table by the window to look at what was set out on it. There was a big bowl of strawberries and a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne right next to it. He’d really pulled out all the stops, even in a dream. You were giggling to yourself when the door to the bathroom opened and someone appeared in the doorway. It took you a short moment before you realised who it was, but when it all clicked into place your mouth fell open.

Because leaning against the doorframe was a woman. Her dirty blonde hair was loose and still slightly wet, hinting at the fact that she’d been taking a shower moments earlier. She was wearing a silk bathrobe that was tied together by the waist with a big bow and you could see her hard nipples quite clearly through the thin material. The smirk was damn near unmistakable however. When she approached you, you instantly got the impression that you were her prey, there was just something very predatory in the way that she moved. She came to a standstill right in front of you and her mischievous eyes flashed bright green briefly.

“Feed me,” she said with a grin. You took one of the strawberries from the bowl and when you presented it to her, she held her mouth wide open, ready to be fed. You felt her tongue swipe over your fingers when you fed it to her and then she let out a single moan when she started chewing. A few seconds later you felt a finger against your chin so she could push your mouth shut. “Surprised?”

“Very.” You looked her up and down. The bathrobe barely covered the tops of her thighs and she reached down to play with the hemline, to make sure that your eyes stayed focused on her legs. “I didn’t know you could turn into a woman.”

“It’s a dream,” she stated simply. “Anything’s possible.” She leaned in to you and you closed your eyes, anticipating a kiss, but then her lips brushed against the shell of your ear as she talked. “I don’t do this a lot though. So consider yourself special.”

“All this to make up for your brother interfering?”

“Guess you could say that.” She took your hands and started pulling you along to the bed. When you reached it you thought that she was finally going to kiss you, but then she spun you round and made you sit on the bed instead. She pulled on the bow that held the bathrobe together and brushed it open, revealing herself to you slowly, like one might unveil a priceless painting. “Like what you see?”

Your throat had gone dry and you found that you had lost the ability to form words. He was beautiful when he was a man, but now that he was a woman, his toned torso had given way to soft curves and skin that looked so smooth that you wanted to do nothing else but reach out and touch it. She took a step closer and stood in between your open legs, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“You’re not talking.” There was a slight teasing tone to her voice as she spoke. “That bad?”

“No.” She took your hand and moved it up until it was covering her bare breast. You gave a quick experimental squeeze. “Just surprised. Takes some getting used to.” Your other hand moved up of its own accord so you could cup her other breast as well. “I mean, I’ve never been with another woman before.”

“You can. If you want to.”

While you had only ever been with men, the thought of being with a woman wasn’t something that you weren’t entirely opposed to. Especially not with someone as beautiful and seductive as this. She shrugged out of the robe and dropped it to the floor. The tattoo that was usually on his left arm had changed into something more delicate and feminine, pink cherry blossoms with green leaves and branches in between them that curled up her arm and covered part of her clavicle. You moved your hand up and started tracing them with your fingers, gently caressing her skin, her green eyes following your every move.

When you heard a soft giggle, you looked back at her face and before you could say anything, she’d pushed you back onto the mattress. She was on top of you a split second later and then you finally felt her soft lips on yours. You could still taste the sweet strawberry on her lips and on her tongue when she slipped it into your mouth. Your hands ran down her back, following her spine and then settling on her ass. Whenever you squeezed, she ground her hips down against yours and you were suddenly overcome with the urge to see her on her back with her hair fanned out over the red sheets.

Grabbing her hips, you flipped her over and since she’d just read your thoughts, she reached up and made sure her hair was spread out just the way that you had just imagined it. She started pushing your shirt up and you almost ripped it off in your eagerness to get naked for her, even if she’d seen you like that many times before. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and shoved her hand into your sweatpants roughly. Her fingers started rubbing at your sex, finding you very wet and very willing.

Pulling her hand out, you leaned back and pushed your pants down, kicking your legs to get them off entirely without moving too far away from her. When you were completely naked, her hand settled back at the top of your legs, her movements more hurried and urgent now. With your hands on her breasts, you started licking and nipping at her neck, moaning against her skin when one of her fingers started circling your clit.

“I want to make you come,” you groaned into her ear. “Never made you… fuck… come before.”

“But you give me so many other things,” she purred back. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You skimmed one hand down her stomach and slipped your hand between her legs. “Jesus Christ. You’re so wet.” You were rewarded with a moan when you tried touching her the way you liked to be touched. It was almost as if you were moving on autopilot, like you instinctively knew what to do. “Please.”

She didn’t reply so instead you pulled your hand away from her, making her let out a displeased whine, and you pulled your face away from her neck so she could watch you suck your fingers into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around your fingers, making sure that she could see exactly what you were doing and then moved your hand down again. You pressed them up against her entrance first, teasing her with the slightest bit of pressure and then slipped them inside. She started tilting her hips up against your hand and the way that her face contorted in pleasure really was something that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Can I?” You repeated the question since you still hadn’t gotten an answer. “I really want to.” Pressing your lips down on hers again in a searing kiss, you murmured against her lips. “Please say yes.” You pressed your fingers in as deep as they could go, all the way down to the third knuckle. Since he had seemed to like it quite a bit when you did it earlier, you tangled your fingers in her long hair and gave a forceful tug. She gasped into your mouth and you knew that you had her. “I’ll just keep doing this until you say yes.”

“Fuck.” She shifted underneath you and you reluctantly pulled your lips away from hers. “I love it when you do that.”

“I know.” A triumphant grin formed on your lips and she was so obviously into it that it was hard to drop this act. Dipping your head down, you bit her neck suddenly and she squealed with obvious delight. You decided to thrust your fingers into her harder and she was so wet now that you could hear your digits moving in and out of her. “I want to make you come so bad.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” she moaned breathlessly. “Want to take this a little bit further?”

“How?”

“I’ll give you what you want, but not like this.” She wrapped a hand around your wrist and gently pulled your hand away. She then brought your hand up to her lips and started licking her own juices off your fingers with such fervour that she could have been mistaken for a starving animal. Seeing that was so arousing that you couldn’t stop a moan from escaping from your lips. “I want you to do something else.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Check the drawers.”

You scrambled off of her, probably a little bit too fast, in your eagerness to see what was in there. You were expecting a vibrator, a buttplug even, but you must have pulled a particularly funny face when you saw what was in the drawer instead because she started laughing as soon as she saw your expression. You hooked your fingers in one of the straps and lifted it up, probably looking very much afraid to even touch it. Your eyes were wide as it hung from your fingers and you turned back to fully face her.

“You want me to wear...” You gestured at it with your free hand. “...this?”

“Well, yes, sweetheart.” She got on all fours and crawled over to your side of the bed. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Right.”

“You’re not sure.”

“It’s just… this is very much virgin territory for me.”

“You were doing fine just now.”

“That’s kinda different though, isn’t it?” You looked down at the strap-on that was still dangling from your fingers and she started poking at it playfully. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh. Truth be told, you were kind of curious about this kind of thing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” She pushed herself up on her knees and hooked her arms around your neck, pressing her entire body flush against you. “So. What do you say?”

“This is definitely one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.”

“Yes or no.” She started kissing you, nice and slow, and then sucked your bottom lip into her mouth. Your hands snaked down her back and when she nipped at your lip, you gave her ass a hard slap. “Baby!” She started giggling, her fingernails digging into your shoulder blades when you grabbed her ass and squeezed her roughly. “I love it when you manhandle me.”

“That’s new for me as well.”

“I really am pushing your boundaries, ain’t I?” She pulled away suddenly and got on all fours again, turning her ass in your direction. She wiggled her hips and peered over her shoulder until you slapped her again. “Keep doing that and I’ll climax before you’ve shoved that thing inside of me.”

“Yeah right.” But you slapped her on the other cheek just for good measure. She pushed back until her ass was pressed against your hips and then she started moving backwards and forwards like you were already thrusting into her. “I need some help… with this thing…”

She faced you again in a flash, obviously excited by your willingness to do this. The harness was on you fairly quickly all things considered and then she lowered herself, gave you a quick wink and started sucking the large dildo into her mouth. So that’s what it looked like from that angle. You stroked her hair in very much the same manner like your previous partners had always done with you whenever you went down on them. Come to think of it, you suddenly realised that you had never actually had his cock in your mouth. That probably wasn’t all that weird considering this no climaxing thing that he appeared to have going on, but whenever you’d even attempted to kiss your way down his chest, he always stopped you.

You felt her tap her fingers against your hip and then she released the dildo with a pop. “You’re overthinking this. This isn’t about me. Never was.” Sitting up on her knees again, she stroked the side of your face almost lovingly and you eased into her touch for a few seconds. “Like I said earlier, the aim is to make you come.” She flashed you a big, predatory smile and then continued, “Speaking of. You do this right and afterwards I’ll push myself into you balls deep and fuck you until your fucking alarm goes off. How’s that for a tradeoff?”

“The way that you usually are?”

“Depends on what you want.” Her hand settled on your chest and she twisted one of your nipples between her fingers. “If you want me to wear that strap-on afterwards, I can do that. No problem.”

“You’ll probably be able to tell exactly what I want when I’m done with you.”

“You bet your ass, baby.” She winked at you and then a bottle of lube magically appeared in her hand. “I know that this is a dream, but I still need to use this.”

“Do you have any idea how weird it is when you do that?” She looked at you with her perfect eyebrows raised as she squeezed some liquid into her hand, applied it liberally to the silicone shaft and then the tube disappeared again when she was done. “Magicking things up out of thin air.”

“That’s what you think is weird about all this?” She rubbed her hands between her legs, applying some more lube on her pussy and started pushing her hips up against her hands. “I can change everything about this dream, even my gender, but when I make stuff appear in my hand that’s taking it one step too far?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She turned her back on you and pressed her ass against the sex toy. “Now get it over with and fuck me already.”

“That really wasn’t necessary.” You grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled hard and twisted her head back. She laughed breathlessly and pushed her hips back again. “I’m just going to have to fuck this attitude out of you.”

“Fuck yes! Teach me a lesson.” She was practically purring the words at you. When you pushed her forward roughly, she loudly voiced her delight. You pressed one hand firmly between her shoulder blades, making sure that her face stayed down. Grabbing her hips, you made her raise her ass in the air and then positioned yourself in front of her entrance. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” With one thrust of your hips, you slipped inside of her and she let out a long stretched out moan as you watched the dildo disappear inside of her. “You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that sudden admission. For some reason she was playing the part that loads of women seemed to play in porn movies and when you started pumping in and out of her, she wouldn’t stop moaning about how good it felt and how well you were fucking her. This really was something else and whenever you glanced down at how her ass rippled whenever your hips connected with her, you couldn’t help but be completely fascinated with how it looked, practically unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Her noises started increasing and you kept slapping her already reddening ass in between thrusts. Pulling out almost entirely, you pushed back in so hard that her moans were starting to sound muffled. Never once pausing what you were doing on her, you slid one hand down over her hip so you could touch her clit. You ran the other one up her spine, tightened your fingers in her hair and yanked her up, pulling her against your chest.

“I wanna hear you,” you groaned in her ear and she started whimpering instantly. “You gonna come for me now?”

“Almost,” she mewled back. “I’m so close.” You speeded up the motions against her clit and she let out a loud cry, reaching back with one hand to wrap it around the back of your head. You were barely able to move your hips at this odd angle, but she didn’t seem to care from the way that she was bucking up against your hand and panting. When she started whimpering and rubbing her back against your chest, you could feel the muscles in her thighs constricting against your hand. “Fuck.”

A grunt of pleasure was torn from her throat and she arched her back, all her muscles going rigid all at once when her orgasm tore through her. You kept her pulled against you, absolutely delighted that you appeared to have done this right despite being slightly weirded out about it at first. When you released her, she dropped down onto the bed, completely out of breath. You lay down on your side next to her and studied her face closely. Her eyes were squeezed shut and you ran your fingers up and down her jaw as she caught her breath.

“Gimme a sec…”

You saw her swallow hard, her throat no doubt having gone dry. You got up off the bed and giggled when you looked down. Seeing that huge silicone dildo swaying about with every step that you took really looked hilarious. When you reached the table, you were ready to struggle with attempting to open the champagne before noticing that she’d already taken care of that. There were two glasses filled with the sparkly liquid standing right next to it.

When you turned back around, you saw that she was gone and that he was now laying on the bed in her place. You briefly frowned, sad that you hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye before realising that they were one and the same person. You heard him laughing from the bed when you walked back with the glass in your hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” You sat down next to him and waited until he’d pushed himself up into a sitting position before handing him the glass. He emptied the glass in one big sip. “Wanting to say goodbye.”

“I just forgot. Until earlier I thought that you were nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

“Oh no.” He threw the glass across the room and it bounced off the wall before rolling onto the floor. He looked down at your lap and flicked his fingers against the strap-on. “I’m very real.”

“Can you help me get this thing off?”

“Or you could keep it on.” He flashed you a quick and very dirty smile. “I’d let you peg me.”

You almost choked when you tried to imagine what that would look like and blurted out a quick, “One thing at a time please.”

“Spoilsport.” He tapped a finger on the harness and then it was gone. “You’d be pretty good at it, you know. Pull my hair a couple of times and I’m yours to do with as you please.” Before you could reply to that, he put an arm around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. Moving you onto your back, he knocked all the air out of your lungs when he suddenly got on top of you and pinned your hands up above your head. “But I promised to do something else anyway. So I win anyway.”

He kept true to his word and fucked you with such ferocity afterwards that when you finally woke up the following morning, it was a damn miracle that you were even able to walk at all. And all that just because of a dream. In the many more dreams that followed afterwards, the woman made an appearance on more than one occasion. On some nights you would just get her and other times he would turn into her while he had his mouth on your pussy. You were never entirely sure about how the entire thing even worked. He wasn’t merely something that your horny mind had come up with one night. No, he was indeed very real.

A couple of months into this very odd arrangement, where he would satisfy your every desire while you were asleep, you were at the beach with your friends. They were convinced that you were seeing someone even if you always said that you weren’t. Maybe this little weekend getaway was a ploy to get more information out of you, but how could you possibly tell them that you’d met someone in your dreams? You’d sound like a bloody lunatic.

When the four of you were looking for a spot to spread out your beach towels, you passed two guys. One was sitting underneath a parasol, dressed in a black t-shirt and black shorts, making sure that no part of him even got out of the shade that was provided by the large umbrella over his head. He was scowling at another young man with long blonde wavy hair who was sitting next to him, strumming a blue ukulele.

Your small group settled down a couple of feet away from them and stripped down to the bathing suits that you wore underneath your clothes. You were wearing a red triangle bikini, somehow now also favouring the colour since your dreams were constantly bathed in it. Your friends headed down towards the water while you sat down on your towel and started reading the romance novel that you’d brought with you.

After a couple of minutes, you realised that you had completely stopped paying attention to what you were reading but were instead focusing entirely on the young man a couple of feet behind you who had started singing. You instantly recognised the song that he was singing. It was the song that the sirens sang to Odysseus in the Odyssey. You were so hypnotised by the song, that you’d completely forgotten about your surroundings. It wasn’t until something slammed into your upper arm that the spell was broken. Your head whipped to the side and you saw a frisbee laying next to you in the sand.

“My bad!” A voice called out to you and you picked the piece of plastic up to hold it out to whoever was approaching you. “I am so sorry! I should have caught that.”

“No problem. Not like I’m…” As soon as you looked up the words died in your throat and you instead stared at the young man who was now standing next to you with wide eyes. “Wait…”

“Well, this is a surprise.” He dropped down onto his knees next to you in the sand, a huge smile plastered all over his face, and he took the frisbee from your hands. “Definitely wasn’t expecting this.” For some reason, you reached out and poked a finger against his chest. You half expected that your mind was playing some kind of trick on you, as if your finger was going to pass right through him, but it didn’t. “See? Real.”

“Serk!” Another voice called out and he tore his eyes away from yours to look at whoever it was that had called his name. “Stop hitting on girls and toss the frisbee back!”

“I’m done playing!” He threw the frisbee back which the other guy effortlessly caught. “Tell Sigurd to play with you before he drowns someone with his singing.”

“Fine! But you owe me.” He winked at you and turned around to join the other two guys that you had passed when you had just arrived. Your eyes were drawn to his back or to be more specific to the long braid that swung back and forth as he walked away.

“Stop checking out my brother.” You blinked and turned your attention back on him. “You want me to introduce you? I mean, if you’d rather want to spend time with him than me…”

“What? No!” He chuckled when your words came out louder than you intended. “Not funny.” He ran a hand down your arm, mirroring the same thing that he’d often do in your dreams. “He called you Serk. Is that your name?”

“Short for Hvitserk.” He held out his hand to you. “And what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied when you took his hand in yours. He repeated your name with a warm smile. “I erm… this is weird…”

“Is it?” He let your hand go and got to his feet. You panicked slightly, thinking that he might leave, when he suddenly extended his hand to you. “Come on. I wanna buy you a drink.”

“And then what?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug when he pulled you up off the ground. “Sit with me. Talk. I know you, but that’s the dream you and now I want to know the real you. That okay?”

“Sure.” He started pulling you along to the beach bars a short distance away. “I’d like that.”

*****

And this moodboard is based on when I described female Hvitserk coming out of the bathroom.

#vikings #vikings au #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #incubus hvitserk #hvitserk x you #smutty smut smut #mar writes #mar moodboards

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maki-s-wife · 3 years

Note

Okay, hi, I love your writing and I’ve seen your post AND IM THIRSTY FOR MAKI X F!/GN!READER AND IDK, SIMPLY WRITE ANYTHING YOU WANT? I DIE FOR PINING??? SLOW BURN??? Gjwjfjdengjsj A little angsty??? They have feeling for each other but reader thinks she’s in love with Nobara sort of things?? Or something based on THE song SURRENDER?idk rlly, anyway you wa— OR BASED ON ANOTHER SONG: MERCURY BY SLEEPING AT LAST.

Okay I’m done. Thank you for coming to my tedtalk

Pairing: maki zenin x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.4K

I loved this request and I love maki so this fit hand in hand😇 Sorry this took over a month to write it is very very long compared to anything else I’ve done but I still hope you enjoy❤️

It hadn’t been the first time. The first time you sat staring a Maki train with Nobara. Her moves were so swift, much has changed from you and her’s first year.

Panda and Toge sat across from you looking at your moody state, they’ve tried to nudge you to ask out Maki for months now. “y/n they’re just training there’s nothing more going on”, Panda said as you squinted took get a better look at the girls battling. You huffed, “Panda-“. “Bonito flakes”. Toge said with an annoyed look on his face. The two had been experiencing this constant back and forth pining with the both of you for almost a year now. Either they were trying to convince Maki to ask you out or You to ask out Maki.

In your first year Maki was always embarrassed around you. You were much stronger than her and if she was in trouble you were always the one to swoop into save her. She already had motivation to grow in strength but now she had more motivation. She didn’t like the embarrassment of being saved. It wasn’t your fault of course but she didn’t want you to view her as weak.

In your eyes weak was the opposite of what Maki was. To still want to be a sorcerer with her low cursed energy took courage. She was powerful, of someone couldn’t see that you’d threatened to beat that fact into their head.

Panda was about to speak again when there was a huge thump. Looking to where Maki and Kugisaki was training your jaw dropped at the image of Maki pining the first year to the ground. Her enamoring voice spoke her win of the match. Toge looked at you and giggled slightly. “What’s so funny” you said, your face glowing redder than a rose. “Salmon roe” he said. “I-I do not wish that was me you weirdo” you grumbled, the bright blush very apparent on your face. Standing up to chase him around Maki looked over at you. She had trained in front of you on purpose. She wanted you to see her, see how much she’s grown, see her abilities now. It was her way of trying to impress you. She didn’t think she could impress you with much else. Instead she saw you pulling at toges ears yelling into them about some nonsense she couldn’t hear. Maki sighed in defeat, the amount of attempts she had to get your attention always failed.

Panda looked between the two of you seeing Maki now carrying Nobara bridal style to shoko after seeing her leg was injured. You were still chasing Toge around when you looked up to see Maki carrying Kugisaki. You paused in your tracks. “Why was she carrying her, she never Carried me like that...” you mumbled words like these until you reached your room. Throwing yourself in your bed you looked to your side. On your nightstand there was a picture with you, Gojo, Yuuta, Panda, Toge, and Maki. Next to it was a Polaroid. A Polaroid of Maki and you on the day you almost confessed to her. You were hugging in the picture, your faces smushed next to each other, smiling and laughing from the event of the fun festival Gojo took everyone to.

Maki left Nobara with shoko and went to get ready to shower. Going through her dresser to grab products and such she picked up a Polaroid from the same day of the picture you had. In hers you were still close to each other laughing just a in a different area. That day she was so close to confessing to you.

The thing is neither of you remember why you didn’t go through with your plans. Nervousness, fear of rejection, was there another person? None of you could recall. It just didn’t happen and sent Panda and Toge into a grumpy state with Yuuta trying calm the two down.

You’d taken a nap while Maki showered. Groggily trudging through the hallways to find her. It wasn’t as though you’d ignore if she was dating Kugisaki. Simply you’d be jealous...for a very long time. But it would pass at some point...right?

You were snapped from your thoughts when you saw maki walking towards her door. Before you could even wave your hand and say her name she was pulled into her dorm by a hand you could only tell was Nobara’s. You paused for a moment and slowly pulled your hand down. Turning back to walk to your room you bumped into Megumi. “Sorry y/n” he said. You apologized as well but Megumi grabbed your arm. “I was actually supposed to get you, panda asked for you”. You sighed hoping it wasn’t training he was asking for.

When you arrived you saw panda,toge,itadori and now Megumi sitting in seats. “You humans and you complicated feelings” panda grumbled with his arms crossed. Toge following suit imitating him.

In Maki’s room Nobara sat her on her bed. “What’s wrong Nobara” Maki asked eager to go find you after what ever Nobara had to say. Nobara put her foot down. “You know that you have to do it soon, it’s obvious that she likes you back” “with all the spying you make me do it’s very clear”. Maki looked away. She wanted to believe it but it came off as weird that someone would find her attractive. Yes she was confident in herself but the only thing she couldn’t see was someone wanting a relationship with her. Especially you. Nobara huffed “Gojo wants to take us to a festival this year, I heard that happened last year to”. “Yes he did” Maki replied looking back at Nobara. “And you told me you had an elaborate plan last year to get y/n correct?”. Nobara had been Maki’s wing girl as soon as she realized Maki’s crush on you.

Maki hunched over, nodded and sighed. It would be a perfect time to try again but could she really pull it off? She wants to. She truly does. But the fear and embarrassment of rejection still lingers over her as it does you. “Fine I’ll do it but-“. “No buts y/n is head over heels for you and will say yes. She’ll be all-“ queue Nobara making lovey doves faces imitating you in a hysterical way.

Now here you were being pressured into re trying your plan to ask out Maki by the boys. Toge spewing nonsense with a grumpy face, Megumi sitting back not paying attention, itadori being enthusiastic about everything Toge and panda were saying.

“I don’t know...she might say no or worse hate me” you admitted. The fear of Maki hating you was a nightmare.

Finally Megumi stood up. “Y/n your just dragging it out. Do you want to date Maki or not?”. “of course I do” you mumbled. “Then THATS all it will take, Maki likes you and you can beat us all over the head if she somehow says no”. “Now gojo is taking everyone to some festival, that’s when you should do it”. He said before beginning to walk off. Everyone looked at him stunned. No one would have thought Megumi would contribute let alone put yourself in a confident mood ready to execute something you’ve been meaning to do for months.

It’s been a week since you and Maki decided to prepare to ask out the other. The week was fairly normal, Maki and you hung out and trained. Not a day went by without the two of you thinking about today, the day of the festival.

Everyone walked there considering panda couldn’t fit in the only car available (let’s pretend a panda walking and talking In public is normal here)

There were games, food, rides. Everyone was pretty scattered out. Gojo around the snack stands, The boys with you around the games minus Megumi who had decided to go eat in peace somewhere else, and Maki with Nobara by the gift shops”. You looked for Maki around everywhere as it was getting dark, you wanted to spend some normal time around her before the confession. Once you spotted her across the large area you waved and got her attention. Itadori and panda wishing you luck while Toge did the same but still stared holes into your head as you jogged over to Maki making sure you didn’t turn back.

Maki looked over to Nobara who had paid for her things. “Go, when the time is right you’ll know”. Nobara said putting her thumbs up with a large smile. Maki gave her a final hug before turning around to see you already there.

You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, starting to get nervous. A hug didn’t mean dating but people who do date usually hug-.

Trying to push down your nerves you greeted Maki and went off the play games and go on rides.

You almost completely forgot all your worries as you won prizes from games, got dizzy from rides, and ate various sweets with Maki. The entire time Maki was becoming more flushed in the face. Everything you did set her to look at you in awe. Often catching herself staring at you before you could see yourself.

The night was coming out and the both of you were reminded of your tasks.

Maki was about to speak when you did first. “Can we...go over there”. You pointed behind her. Maki looked back to see the vast area with many blossomed trees and grass. She nodded...but what could you want to go over there for?

You sat and patted next to you. She sat down next to you and you mumbled somethings he couldn’t hear. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you something maki?” You said more clearer. “Alright, about what” now Maki was concerned. Did you catch her staring at you? Did she freak you out? Did you know about her feelings and came her to let her down easy?

You waited a moment. “What is I-“ “are you and Kugisaki dating?”. You asked bringing your knees up to your face slowly squeezing them tighter. Maki looked at you shocked. “huh, What made you think that?” She said completely baffled. you perked up “wait so your not?” You asked your jaw now slack open. “No?? Seriously when did we ever seem that way”. You let out a huge sigh falling backwards onto the cold grass. Maki didn’t know what to say. How does she ask you out from here? All she could do was go for it.

“Y/n I think-“ “well the true reason I asked you here for was...” you took a deep breath it was now or wait months more to try again. “I have feelings for you, like romantic feelings”. You turned away from her as you said it. The silence was so loud until you heard small laughs coming from Maki.

Now she was laughing at you, great. “Um just ignore tha-“ you began as you started to get up ready to run off for a while out of humiliation. But before you could you felt Maki’s slender fingers softly grab your chin, pulling your face closer to hers in for a kiss. It last fir no longer than 5 seconds but when you pulled away for face could be compared to the reddest tomato known to man.

“I can’t believe you beat me to it...or really said it at all” Maki said laying her hands on yours. “You- wait...WHAT”. You blinked fast, was this a dream? A joke? Did you really just get to kiss the girl you’ve had feelings for almost since you met her.

“I planned to tell you the same news y/n, but I guess we both had the same plans”. Maki looked at you her blush very noticeable making you heat up more.

After a couple more minutes of explanation you were both in each other’s grasp laughing and continuing to talk about how this was supposed to happen long before today.

Spying on you from afar was the rest of the group who watched the whole thing go down even Megumi. Toge did dances with yuuji, panda clapping his hands (paws?), and Megumi with a slight smile on his face.

They were happy that the two of you were finally happy together now.

#jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #maki x reader

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prvtbugsbuggins · 3 years

Text

Caboose and his ungodly amount of sisters.

A post for both my reference and for you all to enjoy.

The idea of Military Alphabet being used as names was inspired by Red Battalion, Blue Regiment by @tinfoil-jones. It's a great fic u guys plz.

More stuff under the cut.

Caboose and his sisters were all taken from a pool of war orphans during the great war. All of them had their homes glassed and barely escaped with their lives. The oldest at the time was little more than a small kid, so many of them don't remember having parents or a life before they were taken into the SPARTAN III program. For all they know, this was all normal to them.

Indiana was the oldest and was the one to remember what parental love was all about, so she was the one who kept an eye on everyone else and did her best to be sure that they had love while growing up. Their training was extremely harsh and she made sure it was as fair as it could be.

Here are the siblings, from oldest to youngest. Once they were old enough to leave the program, all of them chose their own names. Caboose was chosen as the last name, and all of them keep it as a sign of solidarity.

Name: Indiana ‘Indy’ Carnation Caboose

Rank: Lieutenant General

Armor Color: Dark brown and tan

Designation: INDIA

Description: Freckled pale skin with green eyes and red hair that she keeps short. Absolutely stacked. 9Ft tall even. Is missing a leg but has a cool cyborg one to replace it. Defacto ‘leader’ of the Spartan Siblings and tends to call the shots. Is high enough rank to make sure her siblings are treated well no matter where they end up.

Currently: Alive and still in active duty. Works mostly with Holly.

---

Name: Holiday ‘Holly’ Yuletide Caboose

Rank: Major General

Armor Color: Green and Red

Designation: HOTEL

Description: Tan skin with brown eyes and black hair that she keeps long. 8’11’’ tall. Is built more slender but can still break your neck. Is the one who usually keeps track of all the siblings and makes sure they are okay. Organizes the yearly get together.

Currently: Alive and still in active duty. Works mostly with Indiana.

---

Name: Winter Solstice Caboose

Rank: Chief Warrant Officer 5

Armor Color: White and Winter-mint Green

Designation: WHISKEY

Description: Pale skin with blue eyes and white-blonde hair that she keeps short. 7’9’’ tall. Is built more slender and is stupidly flexible, giving her a rep as an escape artist.

Currently: Alive and still in active duty. Works as a battlefield tactician and invents war-games for training purposes.

---

Name: Tango Rio Caboose

Rank: Second Lieutenant

Armor Color: Black and White

Designation: TANGO

Description: Tan skin with brown eyes and blonde hair that was kept short. Was more short and squat but absolutely stacked. 8 ft tall even. Used to bench press actual benches with people on it.

Currently: MIA. Was last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Vicky Ableton Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Teal and Pink

Designation: VICTOR

Description: Pale skin with blue eyes and hair that’s always in a different color done in a ‘fluff hawk’ hairstyle. 8Ft tall even and built more slender. Is faster than the other siblings in terms of speed.

Currently: Alive and retired. Currently works as a DJ and plays for raves while making her own music.

---

Name: Sierra Nevada Caboose

Rank: Second Lieutenant

Armor Color: Tan and Gold

Designation: SIERRA

Description: Rust colored skin with black eyes and black hair kept long. 8’5’’ tall and was more focused on martial arts, so she was rather slender. Could one inch punch people across a room.

Currently: MIA. Was last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Charlie Beatrix Caboose

Rank: Sergeant Major

Armor Color: Green and Brown

Designation: CHARLIE

Description: Warm dark skin with brown eyes and black hair kept short. Built more chubby and squat at 8’6’’ tall. Can hug you to death though, so be careful. Used to be able to pick up cars so the wheels could get changed faster.

Currently: Alive and retired. Writes and illustrates children's books based off stories she told Caboose when he was little.

---

Name: Luna Moonbeam Caboose

Rank: Sergeant Major

Armor Color: Black and Blue

Designation: LIMA

Description: Pale skin with pale blue eyes and pale blonde hair kept long. Just pale, lol. 7’11’’ tall and built slender and trim. Is really good at psychology and has a knack for motivating people without them realizing it. Takes active interest in troop morale and writes papers on how to improve it.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Works as a drill sergeant and her teams perform better because she gives them all lollipops when they do a good job.

---

Name: Juliet Romeo Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Yellow and Green

Designation: JULIET

Description: Freckled pale skin with brown eyes and blonde hair kept long. Built like a muscular country farm-girl at 8’7’’ tall. Can pick up fully grown cattle and move them where they need to go.

Currently: Alive and retired. Works on a farm where she raises various livestock with her wife. Caboose gets to name all the baby animals born on said farm.

---

Name: Fox (Foxy) Trot Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Orange and Black

Designation: FOXTROT

Description: Tan skin with blue eyes and red hair kept short. More wiry and slender than most other sisters and stuck more to stealth tactics than outright assault. 7’10’’ tall.

Currently: MIA. Last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Echo Echo Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Dark Blue and light Blue

Designation: ECHO

Description: Dark skin with brown eyes and black hair kept short. Quite muscular and built at 8’6’’ tall. Usually specialized in hand to hand combat and liked to use knives and other bladed weapons.

Currently: MIA. Last seen scouting uncharted territory.

---

Name: Ollie Oxenfree Caboose

Rank: Major

Armor Color: Pink and White

Designation: OSCAR

Description: Pale skin with brown eyes and black hair, kept short. Is more slender and built more for stealth and misdirection type of combat. 8’4’’ tall and can pluck your heart out of your rib-cage if need be.

Currently: Alive and retired. Works as a therapist and specializes in PTSD traumas.

---

Name: November Showers Caboose

Rank: Lieutenant Colonel

Armor Color: Dark Red and Orange

Designation: NOVEMBER

Description: Tan skin with brown eyes and orange hair kept short. Is built like a bruiser at a good 8’10’’ tall and a body to put bodybuilders to shame. Likes to count how many teeth she can knock out of someone’s head with one punch.

Currently: MIA. Was last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Kiki Piña Colada Caboose

Rank: Major

Armor Color: Light Pink and Light Yellow

Designation: KILO

Description: The smallest sister at 7’8’’ tall and slender. Pale skin with blue eyes and pink/blonde hair kept long. Enjoys looking pretty but is scarily good at assassinations. Likes to use her unassuming looks against people. Has beaten up selfish lovers.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Trains special forces troops.

---

Name: Bravo Blue Caboose

Rank: Lieutenant General

Armor Color: Blue and Black

Designation: BRAVO

Description: Pale skin with blue eyes and brown hair kept short in a buzz cut. Likes piercings and body mods. Has an unbelievable pain tolerance and likes to freak out her recruits using it. 8’10’’ tall and built like a linebacker. Sometimes will stand there and let people attack her and laugh at their attempts to hurt her. Will kill you if you make her siblings cry.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Works on top secret things that are secret. It’s mostly boring stuff, like paperwork. She hates it.

---

Name: Quinn Sable Caboose

Rank: Captain

Armor Color: Grey and Purple

Designation: QUEBEC

Description: Tan skin with green eyes and brown hair kept short. Tends to dye tips of hair purple. Is covered in tattoos. Is very muscular and big at 8’7’’ tall and can pop someone’s head off their body like a grape. Makes a newsletter for all her siblings so they know what’s going on with each other.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Trains forces in how to work together as a team and not die.

---

Name: Zelda Triforce Caboose

Rank: Captain

Armor Color: Dark green and Light Blue.

Designation: ZULU

Description: Dark skin with brown eyes and long dreads dyed in a wide range of colors. Built to be trim and slender. Could choke you out with her legs. Is 8ft tall even. Probably has ADHD and is very excitable.

Currently: Alive and retired. Currently makes VR video games and programs for a living.

---

Name: Michael Jaybird Caboose

Rank: Major

Armor Color: Blue (the best blue)

Designation: MIKE

Description: It’s Caboose, our boy. 7Ft tall even with brown hair, blue eyes, and is built like a brick house. Gives the softest hugs, though.

Currently: Alive and in a mix of active duty and ‘retired’. Pets dinosaurs and plays ‘games’ with his squad.

---

If possible they all try to meet up together at least once a year and they actively send letters to each other. They will call if close enough, but since everyone is doing something different, it's unlikely that two siblings would be on a planet together at the same time. All of them are extremely protective over each other, especially to Caboose since he is the baby. Despite some being retired, they still have and wear their armor because it's so ingrained in themselves. Eventually many more will decide to retire and pursue other interests once they figure out what they like.

Also all of them have a barcode tattooed on them somewhere. Not for evil purposes, but because it's easier to scan a code that can't be removed and make sure you aren't going to kill your Spartan by accidently giving them a medication they are allergic to.

Feel free to use if you like as well. I will be using this as a reference for my own works, lol.

#rvb #red vs blue #caboose #Michael j caboose #caboose's 17 sisters #spartan!caboose #best siblings #for me and other people #mostly so i don't fuck up when I write #caboose is the literal baby #all of them are eccentric in their own ways #you can't help to be that when you've been raised from toddler stage to be warriors #the yearly get together is a real fun party tho #it goes on for days

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jjmjjktth · 3 years

Text

Prologue: The Escape

First - Previous - Next - Masterlist - (ao3)

I saw this fic idea by @messymessyml and couldn’t help myself. I tagged the people who asked to be tagged on the original post; if you want to be added comment or send an ask ;)

Damian is 16 and Marinette is a month shy of 16 at the beginning of the fic.

the characters may be a tad OOC.

TW: Bullying, cursing (it’s censored but still there)

Damian stormed into the cave through the zeta tube. Everyone moved aside; they had not seen a look of such fury since he had first come to Gotham. Despite him not being the violent assassin he was raised to be, Robin found himself nearly following through with his usual threats. Not even bothering to discard his equipment, the heir walked straight to one of the side rooms for private discussions. As predicted, his father followed him. No doubt for a lecture.

Spinning around to face his father, Damian took a deep breath. I can’t lose my head, it won't help my case.

“Father….” there was so much defeat and anger in his voice that the bat seemed to almost reconsider his decision, almost. Robin watched his Father lift his hand to stop him from speaking any further, and begin to address him.

“It was the right call, Damian. It had to be done. You cannot just run around with superpowers. I had to deal with that.”

“It wasn’t your call.” The teen growled. “I had an advantage, Father! It would have been hard for Mother to kill me again! I was safe.”

“You do not need powers to be safe, Damian.”

“I died because I was too slow. It wasn’t your call to remove my safety net! It was mine!”

“I am your father! Everything is my call!” Daman could see that this was going nowhere. Setting his face into a scowl, he left the cave.

Left with his thoughts as he navigated through the maze-like halls of Wayne Manor, the young hero began to negotiate with himself; beginning a difficult game of mental tug-of-war. Weighing the pros and cons proved to be harder than he originally thought; it started with admitting that he may have become attached to his “siblings”, at least more than he would have originally thought he could be. On the other hand, they treated him one of two ways, all of the time; he was always either a child or a weapon. At the very least they should be able to treat him like his actual age! But, they also cared for him a lot… in their own way. On top of that, the manor was a hugely more beneficial environment than the league ever was. His mother would also have a harder time reaching him here. That didn't stop her before. Despite how “safe” this place was said to be, his mother still found a way to kill him for his change in loyalty. If he left, he would surely be caught. If you stay, she will know you’re here and plan accordingly.

Slowly the pros started to outweigh the cons making his decision obvious, he would run away tonight.

It wasn’t until he arrived in his room that he realized he was still wearing his uniform. Not wanting to return to the cave, the heir simply folded the uniform and placed it at the end of his bed. No doubt Pennyworth would retrieve it in the morning. He glanced around his room. There weren't any decorations aside from the occasional painting or katana. Making up his mind, Damian went through his few belongings that mattered. He had to be careful to find ones that would not have a tracking device in them. I’ll have to go to my safehouse for clothes. He gathered up all his weapons that wouldn't be noticed gone and wouldn't be flagged by airport security. Putting everything in a bag, he snuck out his window and took off for his apartment. Leaving only a note that read, I need space, I will be at one of my safehouses, off grid.

___________Marinette pov______________

“You b*tch!” a loud slap echoed across the school courtyard. “Not only are you a liar and a bully, you’re a thief too!” Alya screamed, waving her hands around. “That’s Lila’s life’s work and you just claim it as your own! Lazy, fat, sl*t!”

“But, Alya! I have my sig–”

“I didn’t say you could speak, wh*r*.” Alya said, grabbing the designer’s shirt. “You are going to stand up; walk over to Lila; apologise; and give her her sketchbook back. Understand b*tch.”

“No.” Mari took a deep breath and shoved her building emotions back down into their designated corner. “I will not apologise to Lila because I did–”

“What did you say b*tch!”

“I said no.”

“You piece of sh*t.”

At this point Marinette just tuned her ex-best friend out. She always said the same things. So the heroine only waited.

After school Marinette left for home immediately; she did not want to be in any trouble for being late for her shift. With twenty minutes to spare, the girl leapt up the stairs three-at-a-time to reach her room with enough time for concealer. She would probably be grounded for operating the register with marks on her face. It’s a good thing that my miraculous has healing properties or I wouldn't be able to work at all.

While at the till, a swarm of wasps swept through the shop stinging everyone, except Marinette. As soon as she saw the wasps, she took off for the walk-in freezer in the back of the bakery. Tikki fazed through the door to see when it would be clear to leave the freezer.

“All clear Marinette!” Tikki chirped.

“Thanks.” The hero swung open the door and took off running for the Seine.

Upon arriving at he famous river, Marinette dove into the water scattering the trail of wasps behind her. Pulling out the water powerup, Mari was amazed to discover that even underwater the macaroon did not get soggy, but remained its usual texture and firmness. Calling for her transformation again, Ladybug sprinted to Master Fu’s location unaware of the villain tailing her.

“Master Fu! May I use the snake miraculous?” With a nod, Master Fu pulled out the miracle box and selected the snake miraculous.

“Thank you!” LB called out as she left merging the two miraculous. Lately, Marinette had taken to using the ladybug and snake miraculous together having taken the cat miraculous away from Adrien.

Arriving in front of the town hall, Ladybug surveyed the battlefield. In front of the akuma, Miracle Queen, stood all her previous allies: Adrien, Luka, Ivan, Nino, Max, Alya, and Kagami. They all appear to have been stung by the wasps. At that moment, Hawkmoth arrived bearing the miracle box! Hawkmoth passed the box to Miracle Queen and the students stepped forward to take their respective jewels. All but two, Luka and Adrien. Ladybug had both of those miraculous on her person (the black cat miraculous was in her yoyo) She was about to enter the battle when Master Fu leapt over the building in pursuit of the villain weilding the turtle as Jade Turtle. At that moment Ladybug engaged the various villains calling for her second chance.

As she landed, Pegasus opened a portal to space. Reactivating second chance she tried again, and again, and again, and again. Until she managed to take the dragon and horse miraculous back.

There was a rush of wind and all the holders before her, except Hawkmoth and Myura, were stripped of their miraculous as a light formed above her head. Oh no, Master Fu! The miracle box fell into her hands. Using the destraction Ladybug broke and purified the akuma.

She ran to Master Fu as quickly as she could.

“Master Fu! Are you okay?” She waited with baited breath.

“Hello, young lady, do I know you?” There went any hope I had.

“No, I’m just a concerned citizen.”

I dropped off the miracle box in my room before releasing Tikki from my transformation and entering the bakery through the front. Her parents were there, waiting for her.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Sabine said smiling at Marinette with daggers for eyes.

“Yes, Maman.” Nope. Nope. Nope. Not today. Not ever.

As soon as Marinette reached her room, she pulled out the miracle box, a backpack of clothes and sewing supplies, and her toiletries (she could pull money out of her account later if needed). Opening the box, Marinette took out the horse miraculous releasing Kaalki.

“Master F– where is Master Fu, Marinette.”

“Gone, he relinquished his guardianship when hawkmoth cornered him.” She put on the glasses. “I need an escape; is that ok Kaalki?”

“Of course guardian.”

The girl called for Kaalki’s transformation, summoned a portal, gathered her belongings, and walked through.

Authors notes will be at the end from now on (minus warnings and such)

what should i call this story?

Smiles and love, Jjmjjktth <3 :)

Next - Masterlist

Taglist: @swiftie-miraculer13 @messymessyml

#maribat #marinette #salt #damian wayne #the bats #daminette #paris has a hawkmoth problem #toodles #wip #young hearts are easily broken

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Text

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room��s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It��s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”

#did i read this before posting it???? nope #this is so silly but was also living RENT FREE in my brain #also this is temporally separated from the last ep lol bc i do not have it in me to write anything heavy this week #drunk happy husbands only !!!!#🙅🏻‍♂️‼️#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian and mickey #ixm #gallavich fanfiction

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