#Compare Objects in an Array

[formulakracing]

“well that’s too bad” — k.r.

pairing -> kimi räikkönen x dcc!reader

word count -> {typed this one on my phone}

warnings -> banter, lots of flirting, some sexual innuendos, kimi being protective, the grid being a bunch of goofballs/down bad, some cursing, light pda

a/n -> this is a request based off of this ask! anon, i love you and thank you for sending in an ask so that i could write about one of my favorite drivers (can we also talk about long hair kimi like…) i hope y’all enjoy!

"who is that?"

a blonde peers around the garage, cocking his head as the figure strolls toward the row of paddocks. licking his lips, he folds his arms across his chest.

"i don't know, but whoever she is, she's gorgeous. absolutely stunning."

the object of sebastian vettel’s desire brings a phone to her ear, her plush lips parting, brow furrowing. whatever she was doing, she was deeply invested, as she stopped dead in her tracks to make the call.

the fellow drivers gather around the blonde, almost gawking. there was no doubt this woman was absolutely ethereal, the gentle rays of the morning sun accentuating her features. a pair of low rise jeans hung from her hips, a white long sleeve clinging to her torso. a luxurious purse hung from her shoulder, the bag accessorized with all sorts of trinkets and a bow.

the most striking aspect of her outfit was the pair of cowboy boots on her feet, the black leather worn from years of wear.

an interesting choice, especially in monaco, but it suited her.

she was regal, carrying herself with an aura that exuded dominance and grace. and to sebastian’s delight, she started to make her way in the direction of the red bull garage.

was she single? there sure wasn’t a ring on that left hand. but she could have opted to leave it at home, where it was protected from the public eye.

it was a gamble really.

and sebastian was more than willing to take his chances.

"do you think i could get her number?"

"you? please. you wouldn't stand a chance."

"come on nico," lewis hamilton, british driver for mercedes scoffs, rolling his eyes, "and you think you could?"

“well, i guess we could ask her if she’s ever been to paris—“

"you guys really know how to make me chuckle," another voice cuts in, his spanish accent seeping into every word, "a woman of that caliber? she probably wouldn't even look in your direction—"

"hi boys!" a chirp rings out through the red bull garage, "i'm looking for my husband. i tried calling his cell but i couldn't reach him. do y’all know where he is?"

her voice was sickeningly sweet, thick with the twang of an accent.

not just any ordinary accent.

an american accent, a drawl that sebastian only heard from one region of that country.

the south.

clearing your throat, you survey the array of men milling about in the garage. you recognize them all in an instant, as your husband had dotingly shown you photos over the years. before you stood fernando alonso, sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, and daniel ricciardo. an elite group of drivers, but they did not compare to the man you were searching for.

it wasn't even close.

you were looking for a finnish man, fair in complexion with fluffy, golden locks of hair. a hue that reminded you of sunlight pouring through the leaves of a forest. he was shorter in stature, but muscular, with piercing, icy blue eyes.

well, piercing to some, but to you, they were beautiful, brimmed with nothing but adoration and joy. often, you would gush to him about how his eyes were like the summer sky. he detested this, grumbling how they weren’t that special, but you could always make out a boyish grin, his dimples making an appearance.

taking a step back, sebastian studies you, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. as you give your name to nico, a bell rings in his head. he couldn’t quite place a finger on it, but it sounded familiar.

almost like he had heard it before. mentioned a few times, actually.

“who’s your husband?” fernando puckers his lips, placing his hands on his hips, “is he an engineer? a mechanic? part of the media?”

“he’s a driver.”

“a driver?” lewis’ eyes widen, “are you sure? we would remember one of our own bringing a woman like you around the—“

“will you all stop pestering my wife?”

a rumble from behind you earns a flinch from the drivers. swiveling on your heel, you feel your mouth curl into a dazzling grin.

“sugar! i’ve been looking all over for you! this place is a maze.”

sebastian can’t help but feel his mouth fall open as kimi räikkönen scoops you up into his embrace, squeezing you tightly against his chest. giggles erupt, bouncing off the walls as he peppers your face with kisses, a giddy squeal rising in your throat as he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear.

shaking his head, lewis almost can’t believe what he’s seeing, “you have got to be shitting me.”

“you’re telling me!” nico mutters, glaring at sebastian, he arches a brow, “is this the woman he’s been rambling about for months on end?”

“she is,” daniel clears his throat, finally finding his voice, “you guys didn’t put that together the second she started to speak? you can tell that woman has lived in texas all of her life. she’s wearing cowboy boots for fuck’s sake. you guys really amaze me sometimes.”

“well sorry we’re not all detectives like you!” fernando pouts, throwing his hands in the air, “we were all under the impression that—“

“the impression that i was just some helpless little bunny makin’ her way through?”

your snarky words cut through, sending a ripple of shock throughout the boys. their heads turn, pairs of eyes falling on you.

clicking your tongue, you raise a hand, pointing at sebastian, “y’all know it’s rude to stare, right? i could feel you watching me from a mile away.”

kimi wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, “why didn’t any of you let me know she was here?”

“they thought i was single,” you can’t help but feel a smirk begin to grow as the boys stutter, scrambling to find some sort of response that wouldn’t set kimi off any further.

“well that’s too bad,” finding your hand, kimi intertwines your fingers together, “because you’re my wife. you guys hear that? she’s mine. off. limits.”

“heard you loud and clear,” fernando flashes the finnish driver a thumbs up, “my apologies, kimi.”

“don’t apologize to me,” kimi snorts, “apologize to her.”

as the boys hang their heads, you can’t help but feel a chuckle tumble out as they start speaking in unison, like some schoolboys being chastised.

“we’re sorry.”

“that’s better,” tugging on your hand, kimi motions his head in the direction of his own garage, “come on, my love. let’s go.”

peering over your shoulder, you shoot the group one last wink, scrunching your nose slightly. giving them all a wave, you blow a kiss.

“it was nice to meet y’all! but if you’ll excuse me, i would like to be with my husband. hopefully you’ll all fare better on the track than how you court women. bye now!”

and as you walk away, kimi brings your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the gentle skin.

“i love you.”

linking your elbow with his, you lay your head on his shoulder, your heart cozy with bliss.

“and i love you, ice man.”

and for the rest of the day, the ice man would bear a radiant smile.

a sort of grin the rest of the grid had never seen before.

and that was all thanks to his cheerleader.

his wonderful, talented, smoke show of a cheerleader.

the one who happened to be not just any cheerleader, but his wife as well.

and if anyone wanted you?

well, that was too damn bad.

[fazedlight]

Drunk

“I know you believe that everything is good, and kind,” Lena said, looking up with soft eyes, “And that is one of the things I love about you…”

Lena…

“But that's not the real world.”

Kara frowned as she watched her best friend, despondent and drunk, take another sip of cabernet. I’m not giving up on you, Kara thought protectively, as Lena mumbled on about her DNA, as Lena asked Kara to stop trying to help her. “I am not worth it,” Lena muttered.

They sat in silence as Lena drained the glass and put her head in her hand. Kara’s heart twinged at the whimper that escaped Lena’s lips. “Come on,” Kara said quietly, putting an arm around Lena’s waist, “Let’s get you to the couch. You could use some sleep.”

Lena sighed, but she didn’t object, standing on wobbling legs as Kara helped her steady. Lena haphazardly threw an arm over Kara’s shoulder, stumbling the few feet over to Sam’s couch, before Kara gently lowered her on it.

Half-kneeling, Kara pushed a pillow that Sam had left into the corner of the couch, before turning to grab at a throw blanket. I wish she could come to my place, Kara thought, frowning, it’d be easier to keep an eye on her-

Soft fingers met Kara’s cheek.

Kara turned her head upwards, watching as a quiet Lena gazed into her, grief and resignation and uncertainty seeming to flit behind green eyes. After taking a moment, Lena seemed to get an answer to her own unspoken question - and leaned forward to press her lips against Kara’s.

Kara tensed, feeling her own heart drum hard in her chest as soft lips met her own. Her mouth burned where it brushed against Lena’s, and a rushed feeling filled Kara’s head. 

It was dizzying, the array of thoughts that followed - I want this and what does this mean? clashing against but I’m still mourning and she’s too drunk.

She had never considered- had never allowed herself to consider- and this wasn’t the time-

Each thought raced by too fast for her to grab, as her mind clung to the intention that she needed to protect Lena, and nothing else mattered. With reluctant finality, Kara pulled back and broke their kiss, feeling Lena’s small gasp tickle against her face.

Lena’s somber eyes fluttered open, voice tight with exhaustion and want. “Go home, Kara,” Lena murmured, “They’ll never stop. You don’t have to stay.”

Kara’s eyes darted between Lena’s. She could feel the redness lingering on her own cheeks, but it mattered little compared to the despair in Lena’s eyes. “Sleep,” Kara said quietly, brushing lightly at Lena’s shoulder to encourage her to lie on the couch, “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Lena sighed again, leaning to her side, curling up and sinking into the cushions. Kara bit nervously at her lip as Lena closed her eyes, but felt a glimmer of relief as Lena seemed to doze off, too tired and drunk to force herself to stay conscious much longer.

Kara swallowed hard, rising from her spot on the floor, quietly floating back to the computer on the kitchen counter to do more research until Sam got back.

She needed to find an answer. She needed to protect Lena. There had to be a way to restore Lena’s reputation, something that they missed.

Kara wouldn’t let herself think of anything else.

[hello-gloomy]

Relax Cadet

Stanley Snyder x Fem!Reader

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Description: Out in the woods, you and your lover Stanley take on some basic firearm training.

Warnings: Gun usage, lots of touching, raunchy kissing and groping, mild angst. SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA, DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT IT RUINED FOR YOU.

A/N: I've only watched the first few episodes of season 4, so his personality might be a bit OOC. Forgive me; I will continue to work on it. Also, I decided to release this while I work on two other asks. Currently, it seems they will take longer than I originally planned.

Words: 643

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Gloved hands enveloped yours, steadying the tremors that coursed through your fingers as they gripped the cold surface of the gun. You felt Stanley's presence looming over you, his warmth radiating against your back. He leaned in, his breath a mix of tobacco and something metallic, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear.

"Shhh, relax, you got this," Stanley murmured in a low, soothing voice, his tone relaxing the tension in the air. Following your line of sight, the both of you studied the array of targets positioned before you. Breathing quietly, trying not to get excited at his closeness, you let him reposition the whole of you into the correct firing stance before he trailed his hands back up your body right back to your hands.

"Keep your eyes ahead." He murmured while steadying your hands again.

"That's what I'm doing." Snipped at him, heat rose to your cheeks as you tried to take this seriously. He chuckled and instructed you on how to fire the gun before backing away and letting you take the first shot. You let out one more shaky breath before pulling the trigger. A wish of air rang out, and metal hitting an object echoed into silence. You looked at the target in slight joy before getting disappointed; you sighed before looking back at Stanley again with puppy eyes, hoping your shoddy aim would make him drop the matter entirely.

"Why are you making me do this again?" You pout as you ask him. He drags on his cigarette, comes closer, and rubs his hand over your shoulder.

"Just because we live in a stone world and are advancing quickly doesn't mean we won't encounter future troubles," he states plainly while holding your chin between his fingers. You grumble at him being right, batting your lashing and hoping for mercy.

He decides instead to continue your impromptu training. He hands you the gun again and spins you around to reface the targets; before you can complain, he kisses you and brushes his hands down you again, backing off and letting you aim once again. You aim and let the second shot ring out, and when you glance at the targets, you drop the gun and spin around, hugging Stanley in pure joy at your accomplishment. He chuckles while spinning the both of you around; he lets you down and holds you close to him, wiping the previous lipstick mark he left on you affectionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rose onto your tiptoes for a genuine kiss as a reward. He allowed you to have your way, pressing his lips against yours and smudging the purple around your lips. Gripping your hair in his hands, you sigh softly at his rough touch. You both stop for a breath, mainly for you. He seemed to breathe easily compared to your excitement.

"I'm training you for when I'm not here." He wipes at your lips a bit to make the leftover purple look more even, then says, "If I'm not here," before patting you on the butt. You lean into his hands. "I hope you know we're not done here." You felt like crying; this might as well be torture at this point.

"Aim, Cadet; you'll be almost as good as me by the time we're done." He chuckles while you get into position, readying for the next shot, but before you can fire off the shot again, he comes and whispers into your ear.

"And if you satisfy me with your results, I might even reward you." You almost drop the gun and side-eye him with large eyes. You breathe quietly through your mouth before making the next few shots with little error. You practically preen under his proud gaze, and he hoists you into the air, making due on his previous promise.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

[ravewing]

whirlpool — is he really as awful as the fandom makes him out to be ?

a wings of fire character analysis. minor content warning for mentions of abuse, grooming, pedophilia, and the likes.

whirlpool is, indubitably, the most universally disliked wings of fire character (and by a long shot, too). in the seven years that i've been an active wof fan, i think i've only seen two, maybe three, people say that they can even stand him. ask anyone in the fandom who the "worst character" is; nine times out of ten, they will probably answer, "whirlpool." ask the reason for this, and they will probably reply with something along the lines of him being a pedophile.

but is he?

i would like to note that i am in no way defending whirlpool. he is by no means a morally good, nor redeemable, dragon. i recently reread the lost heir, so i'm trying to approach this with an unbiased, strictly objective viewpoint. this is just my analysis of his character based on what i've heard people say about him compared to his actual character in the novel.

for a character that appears only in one book (two, if you count turtle's brief flashback in talons of power), whirlpool is a character that wings of fire fans just cannot seem to let go. for countless years, whirlpool has been the subject of a wide array of jokes, memes, and is overall used as the fandom's punching bag—and with good reason (at least, to an extent). however, this has, in recent years, quickly downspiraled into blatant pedophilia jokes.

pedophilia is something that, as i've noticed, is seen as "funny" or "quirky" in certain niches of the wings of fire fanbase, especially so on reddit. make a post asking for people to share their favorite ships, and you'll get at least five people saying something like "clay x bumblebee" or "burn x auklet" to be funny. perhaps it's just the fact that most of the people cracking these "jokes" are teenaged redditors, but the fact that pedophilia is watered down to nothing more than "Boiii!😂😂Cursed funny joke🗿🍷" is, without a doubt, an issue. this downplaying of such a heavy topic not only leads to people just blatantly saying insensitive things for a bad jest, but it also results in the people making those jokes becoming desensitized to the severity of the issue.

when something as serious as pedophilia is treated as nothing more than meme fodder or a buzzword to casually throw around, it diminishes the real harm and suffering experienced by victims. and over time, this normalization will blur the line between satire and genuine endorsement and create spaces where predatory behavior is either ignored or, in the worst cases, subtly encouraged under the guise of just being “dark humor.” this kind of discourse can also alienate victims of a genuine real-world issue, which inevitably makes it harder for them to speak out or feel supported in these communities. and while yeah, humor can be a tool to cope with difficult topics, there’s a stark difference between using it to challenge harmful behaviors and using it to trivialize them.

but i'm getting off track.

whirlpool is not a good dragon. he's manipulative, concerned with nothing more than his personal status and wealth, lacks proper seawing etiquette and self-awareness of his patronizing, annoying personality, by all accounts, an awful teacher, and is just overall a condescending know-it-all. he was a one-off pretentious antagonist, and that is all he was ever meant to be.

he serves as queen coral's most trusted advisor in magic and publishing in her council, and, since he's practically bending over to kiss the ground that her talons walk on like a well-trained circus seal, she finds him to be absolutely delightful, intelligent, and just overall a brilliant gift to all the world. considering this, it's no wonder why coral arranged for him to marry anemone in the future.

that's a detail that most people seem to forget. coral is the one who set up the whole anemone and whirlpool thing. of course, this doesn't mean that whirlpool didn't want to marry anemone; it's just that he was only in it so that he could become the future king of the seawings. he is never shown to have any sort of attraction to anemone (nor to tsunami or auklet); he simply views them as pawns in a game that will ultimately result in his seat in a throne. obviously, this is not a good thing. it's implied by anemone that he was essentially manipulating her to use her magic more, thus becoming "evil" and more susceptible to challenge her mother for the seawing crown (and i'm pretty sure that blister was encouraging this, too; the only difference is that her ideal end result would be using anemone as a war weapon to secure her reign over the sandwings). he is a manipulator, but not a pedophile.

when i first read the lost heir in elementary school, whirlpool was nothing but just an annoying side character who's only trait was being a boring "erm, ackshually" kind of guy who spent his every waking moment praising queen coral's literary works. obviously, i didn't fully pick up the more serious underlying tones of manipulation for power and the intricacies of royal politics, but after re-reading the book many, many times over the course of seven years, i've gathered a much more comprehensive grasp of his character.

the thing is, he just... doesn't have that much depth to him. that's the whole point; he's meant to just be a one-off antagonist that the reader isn't supposed to like. think about it. why would tui intentionally put a pedophile in a book directed towards elementary and middle schoolers? she wouldn't. he's literally just supposed to be annoying and die.

compare him to coral, for instance. yes, whirlpool was awful. but unlike coral, he did not write a scroll about eugenics, treat and harness a dragonet like a literal dog, publicly torture and execute loyal subjects for an accident (that was really coral's brother's fault), threaten to KILL his own daughter (okay, well, he did attempt to murder tsunami, but i think it's also pretty bad to tell your kid that you're going to kill her), neglect over 30 other of his own children, among a bounty of other not-so-great things. what i'm trying to say is, people often bash repeatedly on whirlpool with the same three jokes (like, come on, at least make a new joke. like whirlpoop or something i haven't heard that one before) while overlooking awful things that other characters do as well.

people love scarlet, blister, burn, darkstalker, vulture, mastermind, and countless other villains, despite the fact that many of them have done the exact same things as whirlpool or worse (elaboration in like two paragraphs). and there's nothing wrong with liking villains at all (personally i love a ton of wof's villains; i mean, come on, who doesn't?), so long as you're not trying to justify/redeem/defend their actions!!

what i'm trying to say is this:

this extreme vilification of whirlpool relies on literally nothing but exaggeration or outright misinformation. while yes, it is absolutely true that he was manipulating anemone to serve his own ambitions, his interest in marrying her had nothing to do with attraction or pedophilia—it was calculated power play, one arranged by queen coral herself. many people conflate his manipulative tendencies with predatory behavior, but his treatment of anemone was no different than how many other power-hungry characters in wings of fire have used young dragons as pawns in their schemes. this does not make him any less of a bad person, but it is important to distinguish between the two accusations.

another major issue with the fandom’s treatment of whirlpool is the sheer inconsistency in how different villains are perceived. as mentioned earlier, characters like darkstalker, scarlet, and even queen coral have committed arguably worse acts than whirlpool. darkstalker, for instance, manipulated young dragons like anemone, moonwatcher, fathom, and his own girlfriend, placed magical compulsions on his own friends, and tried to commit genocide—yet he has a massive fanbase, with many people willing to justify or romanticize his actions. scarlet is a tyrant who tortured innocent dragons for entertainment, but she is often seen as a charismatic, even beloved villain. (i can't lie, i love her too) coral, despite being directly responsible for the forced betrothal of anemone and whirlpool, does not receive nearly as much backlash as he does. why, then, is whirlpool singled out as the worst villain when he is hardly unique in his cruelty?

the answer likely lies in the nature of his character. unlike other villains who are powerful, charming, or entertaining, whirlpool is pathetic. he is not a fearsome warlord like burn or a tragic antihero like darkstalker is meant to be—he is an annoying, self-important sycophant whose ultimate goal is to climb the social ladder by cozying up to queen coral. he is the kind of villain who is easy to mock, easy to laugh at, and easy to pile hatred onto without deeper discussion. it’s the same reason why villains like mastermind or vulture don’t inspire the same level of vitriol—they are manipulative and amoral, but they aren’t written to be particularly cool or interesting in the way that characters like darkstalker or scarlet are.

at the end of the day, whirlpool is a terrible dragon. he is an opportunistic manipulator, annoying, a pathetic wet cat, and an overall detestable character. however, the way the fandom fixates on him, and exaggerated or misrepresents his crimes while ignoring worse actions from other villains, makes me wonder: why do some villains get a "pass" while others are relentlessly mocked? why do people misrepresent certain characters in ways that turn serious topics into joke fodder? and most importantly—why are we still talking about whirlpool, a one-off side villain from a book released over a decade ago, as if he’s the worst thing to ever happen in wings of fire?

side note: i couldn't figure out how to work this in there, but i don't know where the misconception that whirlpool is a super old decaying man came from. is he far too old for anemone? without a doubt. but from what i gathered from reading tlh, it seems like he's implied to be only slightly older than tsunami; somewhere around riptide's age, perhaps. anyhow, thank you for reading my chaotic mess of a character analysis! as a treat (or an abhorrent punishment, depending on the kind of person you are), here are some funny whirlpool expressions. the last two are my favorites .. he looks like he has eyeliner on in the last one lol

[rungssparemodelpieces]

Enrichment

Takes place in @tinydefector Merformers AU either as a side story or separate continuity! Thank you for the inspiration!

The scent of salty brine filled the air as it was just another quiet day at the marine centre. With few eyes to observe the Oceanides at the center, be it for research or recreationally, a pair of blue eyes decided to take up the mantel as Rung observed the few humans that were wandering around, finding their interactions quite assuming as he liked to compare how similar their behaviors were to Oceanides. He liked watching people and would sometimes try to mimic some of their mannerisms such as a hand wave or a grin though these have been met with mixed results or confusion from the caretakers feeding or observing him. He knew from experience furrowed brows weren’t a good sign but he was still trying to learn how to at least communicate back in a way they could understand.

With Rung being an older Mer, he would stay back more at the center, balancing the solace he got in his alcove with hunting and interacting with his pod. Though he didn’t seem like the most active member, he did show a habit of decorating his area with an odd array of trinkets, some assumed to be from previous hunts such as large and unknown bones or manmade items like used car parts or toys that were either lost or dumped into the ocean. The marine centre has tried to remove or replace the pollutants but Rung has been rather shown to have an attachment towards these items. To counteract this, you were instructed to work on finding other items for him to collect and display that were found in his natural environment.

It was enrichment, or so that’s what Dr. Quin called it and for an Oceanides so old, it was a good way to keep his skills sharp and to give him exercise while staying around the area. When Rung went out hunting with his pod, you would dive in and scatter these trinkets for him to find. You’ve even buried or hid a few to see if he could find them and problem solving how to get them out. Rung seems excited to find new treasures for his trove, chirping and showing you when he found one before going back for more.

This arrangement has been your personal project for months as others focused more on the lone baby and the next generation of Oceanides. So far you’ve found success with shells, bones, coral, and oddly shaped rocks but it seemed as of recent, he was struggling to find items that were near him or even in plain sight, feeling around until he eventually found the object in question. In light of this new problem, you’ve been taking the day to observe him, wondering what you could do to help his decline in his quality of life here.

It seemed the answer was closer than you speculated as while adjusting some rocks around Rung’s sleeping area, a small splash caught his attention as he saw a strange piece of plastic flutter down, swimming over cautiously as the object hit the sandy floor with a poof. Once the sand settled, he noticed the item was an odd contraption he noticed some humans wore on their faces, perhaps to assist with their vision or to distinguish one from another.

Carefully, Rung picked up the glasses and out of curiosity, placed them on his face. It took a few tries as the sides of the frame poked at his gills but eventually, he was able to place them comfortably on his face. Looking through the clear glass, it became very apparent to him that the theory this device helped with vision was correct as he looked around, seeming the lagoon around him in better detail.

The stones and shells that lined the sand became more defined and he was able to notice more of the colorful details the small fish that fluttered in and out displayed. With this realization, Rung started to happily swim around and look around the lagoon with a new, clearer perspective.

~~

Meanwhile, you were helping an intern at the marine centre pick up some papers as she bumped into you, barely able to see over their own papers. The fledgling intern, Donna, squinted hard as she tried to find all the notes that had scattered in the collision.

“Is something wrong?” You asked as she seemed to be panicked, scrambling to find something more important than her notes.

“I- I can’t find my glasses,” Donna muttered as she tried her best to find them, her searching more erratic before she turned towards the open water, fear clear on her face, “I think- I think they might have fallen in when I bumped into you.”

You gave her a pat on the shoulder in an attempt to reassure her there was nothing to worry about. “It’ll be fine, we can get them back, Shrimp’s easy going and won’t mind if we pop in to retrieve them.”

With that, you leaned over the railing briefly, trying to get a hint of where Shrimp was before noting the flash of orange and white darting the water below, deciding to call out to him to see if he would respond or if he was in distress.

“Shrimp!” With the call of his name, Rung poked his head out of the water, his blue eyes appearing much larger due to the glasses he was wearing. A small chuckle escaped your lips as you called him over, finding the image quite humorous.

“It seems Shrimp decided to try on your glasses,” you commented to Donna before leaning down closer to Rung’e eye level, a bittersweet smile on their face as you held out your hand. “I’m sorry I have to ask but I need those glasses back.”

Rung dipped his head mostly in the water at this request, not wanting to lose this tool that he was just starting to enjoy. A rumble of his gills caused the water to ripple out around him as he pouted in disapproval.

“Look, I’ll ask Quin if we can find you another pair but Donna needs those back so she can see,” you asked him, the Mer still not relenting as a burb of bubbles left his mouth as if sighing.

“I promise I’ll get you another pair, you have my word.” A few moments later, he conceded, handing the glasses back before retreating under the water before you could thank him, obviously sad about returning the glasses but seemingly understood that Donna needed them back.

Returning the glasses, Donna thanked you before scurrying away, your focus returning to the lagoon for a brief moment before returning back to the facility proper.

~~

“You’re requesting glasses, is that correct?” Dr. Quin attempted to clarify as she looked at your request for numerous pairs of waterproof glasses. The request was odd, to say the least, but she wanted to hear you out first before making her decision.

“Yes,” you stated before explaining yourself, “Earlier today, Donna’s glasses ended up near Shrimp in the lagoon and looking the video feed from that time, it seemed he not only enjoy playing with them but benefited from wearing them. He was swimming around excitedly and interacting like he could fully see his environment! I think giving him the option to choose and wear some would help him greatly… and I did promise him I would give him another pair to wear.”

You rubbed your arm nervously, knowing it was a long shot, but seeing at least one Mer so happy, especially with priorities being with the future generations of Oceanides, it made you feel like you could at least help one in the long run, a minor victory on the road ahead.

“Then we better find him a pair that works,” Dr. Quin stated as she signed her name for approval, a hum in her voice before being cut off by a hug and thank you from you, a pat on the back signaling you to lighten up on the embrace, “And besides, I don’t want you to break a promise.”

Excited, you thanked her once more before starting the process of finding glasses that might fit an Oceanides more comfortably.

~~

Rung poked at the sand that lined the floor of the lagoon, prodding under the dark blur he assumed was a rock or perhaps an clam before he heard you call him by the nickname you gave him, curious as it wasn’t feeding time yet. Perhaps it was another medical check, especially given his age.

Either way, he swam to the surface to find you kneeling down by the shore, a strange box in hand and an excited look on your face. “Hey, Shrimp, remember that promise I made about the glasses? Well, I kept it,” you mused before handing him a pair, “I hope these work for you.”

Upon realizing what you had, Rung excitedly took the glasses, putting them on and… frowning it seemed these frames made his vision worse, taking them off as the blurriness hurt his head.

“Oh, it seems those don’t work for you,” he mused, offering a different pair to him, “I have a few pairs until we find the right ones for you.” Through some trial and error, it seemed he found the perfect pair, big blue orbs staring at you as he swished his tail happily, the air being filled with a few melodic hums of excitement.

Though through your eyes, Shrimp was excited to see clearly again, Rung was ecstatic that the first thing he saw clearly again was your face. The way that your hair clung around your face, the light crisp from the sea water, the smile on your lips, slightly chapped from working outside and in the water, it was all so incredible to him. You were incredible to him and it made him feel something, something deep and primal that stirred inside him as he trilled in thanks before diving back down to the depths. He was searching for something, something that would interest you, something that would show he had interest in you, and maybe, just maybe, be able to communicate what you mean to him.

[pomegranate-pen]

Stranded. boom!sonicxfem!reader

chapter 7. captive and captivation.

masterlist.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

Pink suitcases of all kind fill up the small living room, making it a bit harder to move around the place. Hence why you’re glued to the couch watching Amy and Sticks prepare. Amy looks at you worryingly, it was as if you were a toddler being left alone for the first time in her life. Which…is technically not untrue, minus the toddler part.

“Amy can take two guests with her y’know.”  Sticks clutches her own bag on her shoulders, a normal hand-made one with leather. Compared to Amy, she looks at the array of suitcases with utter confusion. “but I guess you’d have to pack light.” A huff comes out of her.looking back at Amy with a tinge of annoyance. “Do you really have to pack this much? It’s only a two day trip!”

“It's not just a ‘trip’ Sticks!” Amy starts getting giddy with excitement. “I’m being invited to Comedy Chimp! That’s the best thing that could’ve ever happened to my business!” ah, right. Comedy Chimp, the one and only late night tv show who speaks with celebrities of this Island. Another new information you’ve learned during your few weeks here. Though not as much as a shocker as the very idea of anthropomorphic people even existing, with your shock on the latter completely phasing by and dying at this point, you’ve come to question more about this world you’re living in.

First, it was the media itself. Somehow, they have their own internet, their own certain electricity and connections that set them completely disconnected from the world outside of theirs. It’s baffling, really. Though you’re not the most expert in this topic, surely they’re connected to it somehow, right? If not, you wouldn’t have been able to connect to Jason in the first place…but then again…you do always have to call him on the highest mountain of the place, with the lowest internet possible and a very glitchy and often blurry figure of Jason on your screen. Perhaps, you should try and see if you have the ability to text and load up videos as well. Maybe with the help of google maps you can pinpoint where you technically are. Despite the idea fresh in your mind, another thought dwells on you, one that makes you huff. You’d rather not let your sudden quick activity on the internet alarm Louis. It’s been quite the two months, suddenly appearing online could raise unwanted attention.

With that out of your mind, you try to trace back to your first thought. Right, the Island’s media. They all have their own celebrities, some you’ve only heard by name, such as Tommy Thunder, and others you’ve seen pictures of, like the eagle on the chocolate bar you're on your first day here. and the third of them were the big stars. Though only a handful, their presence is very well known among the residents. Though deep diving and researching about how and when they have gotten famous feels like a rather fun feat, you’re more curious about something much more boring.

How do they make these certain merchandise and objects?

You will be honest, this Island is no safe place. If the almost active volcano wasn’t proof enough, there is also Eggman who destroys the town constantly, and from what you’ve heard by Sticks and Amy, things such as meteor showers and hurricanes are not uncommon. A very horrifying thought, given how Amy’s house is quite frankly not the safest in terms of structure. Not to mention, you’re soon to be housed in a tree. So yeah, not a nice thought.

But here is the thing, here is the subject that has been bombarding your mind from the moment you’ve woken up. you only know one section of the entire huge Island. Some could argue that you know four, if you count the jungles, beaches and volcanoes. But, all of those places are only a few feet apart, and one can only see them as one zone of the Island. Your proof? Comedy Chimp.

You see, dear imaginary competitor who is trying to reason with y/n’s logic,the host of Comedy Chimp-er… whose name is also Comedy Chimp- does these certain skits. Afterall, there aren’t enough celebrities to interview on a daily basis, so their routine is a bit different from what you’d be used to. They interview a celebrity once a week, which is usually on Friday nights, and before that day, they constantly try to put clues on the show for people to stay tuned and try to guess who the celebrity will be. Clues, who get separated in different skits around the island that the host does. The first night when you watched him, he was in a desert looking area, a place that shocked you and made you ask Amy where he was exactly. Much to your shock, Amy replied that it’s a certain section of the Island away from the town, then she started to ramble about how it was beneficial to the ‘ancients’ in the past. That would also explain why you’ve never seen the studio for such a show, or a studio for any show on their channels for that matter. They were on the other side of the Island, one completely unknown to you. and perhaps, even, it would have the workshops or factories that create products like that eagle chocolate  bar in such a rapid pace.

“-Y/n? were you even listening?” Before you could even delve deeper, Amy’s voice snaps you out. you look at her with a bit of guilt. “yeah- I think? You were talking about why you need all these suitcases.”

“So you agree?” Amy grins triumphantly at Sticks, whom was grumbling and rolling her eyes.

“well…” you huff, and Amy and Sticks both now look at you with little anticipation. “I mean- it’s best to be prepared- but how are you going to carry all of these by yourself? Won’t it be exhausting?”

“uh, hello?” her posture straightens up in pride. “You are speaking to a soon-to-be celebrity and the most successful business woman of all on this island!” Sticks seemingly rolled her eyes at that.

“he’ll probably just ask you dumb questions.” Sticks groaned. “How are you so sure he’s the right guy for a sponsor?”

“Can’t you be a bit more supportive?” Amy sighed. “ not even Sonic got an interview with him yet.”

“Exactly.” Sticks replied. “ He's out of actors and models around here, so now he’s lookin’ for us for content!” she suddenly grumbles. “ain’t no way I’m letting that stale-joke-stealing guy get any money out of me.”

“Well, he’s not interviewing you, he’s interviewing me.”

Sticks sighs at that. “Just warning ya.” She grabs the suitcases and walks through the door. “don’t come crying to me when he doesn’t ask you anything about your new business!” she says, as if she wouldn’t gouge Chimp’s eyes out if he insults her best friend in any way.

“Say, which business are you trying to promote here?” you spoke up, grabbing Amy’s attention as she was zipping up the last bag.

“interior design!” she gleefully answers. “ you did say I had a knack for it, so I thought why not make a business out of it?”

“Well, yes- you do have talent in it.” you take a glance around the house, confirming your own statements to yourself. “But are you sure you want to make every hobby of yours a business?”

“What do you mean?”

“well—“ you sit up a bit more straight. “ You don’t need to make every hobby marketable to prove to yourself that you’re good at said hobby. And you already have so many classes you run, are you sure you even have time for it?”

“oh please,” Amy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Have you even met me? I am the queen of schedules! I’m sure I can make time for it.”

“hold on-“ Sticks now joined the conversation. “you mean to tell me you didn’t even start the business yet?!””

Now faced with two worried friends and a load of doubt, Amy stutters a bit and then grumbles. “ Trust me on this,guys! This will be highly marketable! Next week you’re going to see me in the magazine!" She strikes a fashionable pose. “Amy Rose, model, business woman,artist, entrepreneur and interior designer!” she strikes another. “What's next for this sublime pink beauty? Go to page 68 to find out more!”

“Do magazines actually have that many pages?” Sticks’ questions go unanswered.

“Well, if you say so.” You just shrugged. It’s not your business,anyways. If this is what she wants to promote, then who are you to stop her? “I hope it goes well.”

“promise me you’ll watch it?” Amy’s eyes are one of excitement, an excitement that quickly shifts to slight concern. “and that you’ll make sure the house  is not trashed by the boys when I come back?”

Two days where you’re alone, one where it’s off to work in the morning, but after it is a well needed rest after the hellish work week you’ve been through. No matter how many animals you patch up or inspect, the rows and reservations at the vetirinary are never-ending. You have a few plans on how to spend the weekend. You’re not sure why Amy’s so worried about the house being trashed, but from what you heard, last time she let Sonic and Knuckles take care of the place it didn’t go so well. something about a couch fiasco. though, since she seemed concerned, you gave her a reassuring smile, hoping it’ll calm her nerves down.

“promise.”

---

The clement household was always known to be cold.

Outside it’s walls, it’s a beautiful, warm victorian-like manor deep within the forest, it’s a princess’ castle and a house pet’s oasis. But within the old rose-covered walls lies a cold, dimly lit, empty house. Even the employees within the place are as quiet as ever, their shoes barely leaving a ‘click’ or a ‘clack’ against the smooth wooden floors.  The lack of noise is the complete opposite of what Cameron is used to. 

Being one of the ‘generational’ families whom have saved the world from doom centuries ago had it’s perks and very small disadvantages. One disadvantage being the oath the families took amongst each other to meet when one wants to speak with them. It’s known as a greta way of teamwork and companionship, breaking it would be considered shameful and done in pure distaste. Which is why he’s here today, in the Clement household by the request of Louis Clement, this year’s biggest jackass.

It’s a request that had his mother spout praises and excitement while his grandparents spoke about upholding respect and acting with manners of a gentleman, all while his great great uncle sat in silence, like he always has.

His family doesn’t know what he knows, so of course they only see this as a common courtesy and perhaps even an offer for future business relations, but it’s far from that,it’s much more ridiculous, because Louis Clement never learned to grow up and face rejection, and now he’s decided to go haywire because of it.  

There are many reasons on why Cameron never liked speaking with the other children  within the guild. One common excuse of his being that their personalities just didn’t mix well with his. His house was known for intelligence, known to be full of scientist and analyst whom constantly support mankind with their scientific goals. Though now the idea of engaging in the scientific discovery is slowly dimming down generation after generation, the honor and promise of helping it prosper is something they must support, whether his father liked it or not. Oh, and him? Well, Cameron, ‘embarrassingly enough’ as his mother would say, likes conspiracy science. Though he often finds himself disagreeing or just being amused by the prospect of flat-earth or pyramids being built by aliens, there is one phenomena that has never left his mind. For he himself has seen proof of their existence- or at least- he knows a trustworthy man who has.

“I apologize for the short notice Mr.Eclipse.”

Shaky. Louis’ voice seems shakier here than he’s ever heard it. just like any other, Louis often wore a mask of confidence when invited to the annual parties, he was radiant, a star in the middle with beaming eyes and a charming smile. He was the perfect image for the Clement family and has strayed far from showing his insecurities to others. a lesson taught by his family, perhaps. For they too tend to not show any annoyance or grievance to anything. He often heard his grandmother complaining about ‘every generation worse than the other, for Clement’s pure hearts as they call it, can dim and become rotten with time.’ He never understood what she meant, but he can get a good grasp of it now. For you see, it seems like the rumours of Clement’s being emotionless was untrue, quite far from it in fact. They are just as emotional as any other human being, or maybe, Louis Clement is by far the most emotional Clement he’s ever seen.

Louis runs a hand in his hair and straightens his clothes, dressed casual and not in the suits Cameron is used to seeing him wearing. Thank god, because Cameron decided against wearing a suit as well, believing he looks too awkward in such a formal getup.

He clears his throat,preparing to sound utterly poised and formal, remembering how his mother prayed for him to not screw this up. “there’s no need for apologies..uh..Mr.Clement.”

“Please, just call me Louis.”

“Okay..Louis- cool.” Shit shit he already ruined it. oh well, he did say he won’t promise anything, perhaps he’ll be saved from the scolding later. “ so—…can I ask why you called me?”

“Why are you in such a rush Cameron?” because you’re an intense psycho who couldn’t take no for an answer- was what Jason would’ve preferred Cameron to say, and he’ll admit, he wanted to see his reaction to such a sentence as well- but he’d rather not find assassins ready to strangle him outside, so he opted to just stay silent instead.

“Let's go to the garden first. I recently got this sublime tea. It would hurt my feelings if you hadn’t had at least one sip.”

Don’t say anything snarky don’t say anything snarky don’t don’t don’t-

Yet, Cameron has always been a troublemaker at heart. From learning the most confusing and less-evidential of sciences to letting a complete stranger take a relative’s yacht. He could not handle ignoring such a perfect moment.

“Why?  Is it poisonous?”

Louis falters in his step, frozen in shock for a moment, his back turned to Cameron. His shoulders shake, then a bit of wheezing  can be heard. A small wheeze then became a holler of laughter. Never has Cameron heard  a laugh so on edge, so on the verge of mental collapse. Oh god, it is poisonous, isn’t it?

Louis turns back and looks at him with a smile. “ I’ve heard that you were amusing to speak with, but I never expected to be laughing from the first minute that you’re here!” if Cameron were a fool, he’d hit Louis or give him another,even harsher comment, but he knew where the line was and where he stood in it, so he kept his mouth in a tight smile and let Louis lead him to the outside, where a garden overtakes the place and a table is set-up right in the middle just for such occasions. 

He wanted to get a word in, to thank for his hospitality or try to make small chit-chat and avoid the main issue he was here for, because given the state Louis is in, he knows for sure it’s about you. yet, his phone constantly buzzes, and Louis urges him to check it right as their tea is being prepared.

With a strained smile, he opens his phone, only to predictably be met with hundreds of messages from Jason.  An entire line of typos, all he could comprehend being Jason’s way of trying to control his mixed shocked and annoyance from Louis’ invite. Last messages were more comprehensible, longer and well-thought-out, all begging him to leave the place immediately, or hell, never answer the invite in the first place.

Cameron held back a full sob, it’s way too late to turn back now.

 As the delightful smell of a floral tea wafts through the room, it does little to calm his nerves, and he’s left with this constant uneasiness as he tries to look anywhere but Louis’ eyes.“So, Cameron,”  Louis quickly takes a sip, a frown upon his face as he remembers buying this tea for it was specifically your favourite blend, an irony he could not bear to fathom upon, a heartbreak he’s that he cannot process even one bit longer.”I’ve heard an interesting story from your cousin yesterday,” shit. Cameron is in a losing battle, and he now knows that he must die a silent man, never giving away the location of the hideout. “ care to explain your side of the story?”

“…hah..why not?...” he fiddles with his collar, the clothing on him feeling far too itchy now.

-----

On such a beautiful and quiet beach, one would think peace would be exemplary here. Yet, you are fuming with annoyance and rage as your phone barely functions at all anymore. With your charger now just a few scraps of strings, charging the poor thing was always an impossible task. It was like you were forcing your device to do the worst yoga poses for seven straight hours. Therefore, your phone is slowly trading to a no man’s land. It constantly glitches, fumbles, and automatically turns itself off.  Anytime you restart and turn it on, the batter bar keeps showing a completely different number. You were glad such a thing just happened to your phone and not your laptop, because if that was the case, any contact you had with the outside world would be gone forever.

However, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for not doing anything about this sooner. With your phone now in shambles of what it used to be, you can never go back and save the files you had there or retrieve any lost numbers or accounts. your entire life in the city was in that phone, from socials to photos, stupidly satisfying mobile games and old internet friends you haven't spoken to in months now, all of it was now gone. Though you are still grateful to have left the hellhole of a place, it never meant that you didn’t have at least a few good memories there.

A small stab hits your heart, and you find yourself in a dilemma. Are you a fool? Must you pick a world and stick to it and never look back?

This freedom you have feels great, it feels cathartic even, yet, you still find yourself often missing the small things you had in that past life.With how much your mind has been processing your childhood, you’ve been feeling an ache for the small things in life. your mother’s brownies…her teasings and banter with your father in the rare times they did get along..her soothing lullabies that she;d sing to you when you had a nightmare-

You freeze up for a moment. Wait.

God, did you miss your mother of all people?

The urge to facepalm was increasing by the second, your mind now berating you for even thinking about missing a mother like her. nevertheless, your feeling’s were evident. Even after all this dread she;s giving you, all those depressing nights where you considered your own worth, you still ache for the little love she has shown you. Sometimes, in your imaginative mind, you always thought she’d one day look at newspaper tabloids talking about your infamous adventures and say how proud she was of you to all her friends. In your child years where responsibilities were simpler and expectations were far less heavy, you always thought that you’d become a great adventurer and Louis a great businessman, he always claimed that it was his dreams to be the person that makes his parents proud. A sentiment that always felt off to you. you would even sketch out your ideas, show them to your family excitedly and claiming you want to show it to Louis too in the next playdate. These claims didn’t sit well with your mother, as she always coaxed you into leaving them at home for next time, not to tell Louis or anyone else in his family about the matter, because you want it to be a surprise, don’t you? speaking about the art piece would only ruin the amazement they’d feel in the next play date! So never bring it, only do so when mother mentions it.

You’re sure the drawings are up in the attic somewhere, collecting dust with all your other plastic and paper companions you’ve made and talked with over the years, alone in your room unless Louis called. Alone, cold and murmuring your words, not wanting to wake anyone’s attention to your fantasy filled world, full of friends and companions that you held dear, all whom in your teenage and adut life in the city have become w withering memory, yet now, you find yourself remembering a bit more details about them with each passing day. There was the adventurer whom you loved her book and always imagined yourself as her little sister, one cartoon character known to be a grouchy old man with a soft heart whom you’ve always seen as a father figure and—

PLANK!!!

Pain and shock all hit you at once as your head falls face first to the sand below you, a pained cry emitting from you as the banging pain of whatever metal material that has hit your head now takes over your mind. Now, you could only hear two, robotic-like voices, one more wise while the other a bit more goofy and high-pitched. They walk- more like hover- to your line of sight, the presumably red one- you guessed, for your eyesight was now becoming blurry by the second- glancing to your eyes and jolting a bit in shock.

“It seems like she’s still awake.” He tells his yellow, more cubic friend. One whose holding a metal bat with a familiar logo on it. “Cubot, hit her one more time with the bat, but try not to lead into any injuries. Her head is more fragile than ours.”

You couldn’t help but give a strained giggle, startling them both. “..cubot…” you give a small chuckle. “…very….. fitting…”at this point, your mind was becoming far too sleepy to understand even the smallest grains of the sand beneath you, let alone what their exact conversation was about. Something about this loss of senses and eyesight only individualising things by color left you in a state of déjà vu. Only now, the sun isn’t as blazing as it was before, but a cold wind made you flinch.

The yellow one seems to have heard your almost inaudible words, scratching his head with a confused gaze. “really? I always thought my name was ironic. Because I’m the more orb-shaped between the two of us.”

The red one looked at him in disbelief. A blur of stuttered and confused words leave him as he finds himself trying to process the ludicrous thoughts of his friend, all while trying to find the best way to explain in the simplest way possible how his claims are utterly false- yet he gives up mid-second, sighs and just stares at you disappointed, as if he’s seen this scene before and he’s experiencing his own déjà vu as well.

“let’s just…hurry and get this human to Dr.Eggman.” he points to your forehead. “ go on, hit her again with the bat.”

As if to mock you, which a part of you thinks that’s not it, the yellow bot hits the bat a few times on the palm of his hand before bringing it to the top of his head. You quickly close your eyes, swiftly feeling the impact—everything around you fades to black.

-----

You’ve always loved your mother.

Sure, she could be quite annoying at times- her hypocrisy was always a huge problem. Her constant need to make every issue and problem someone else’s fault always made you feel bitter, and her love for you has always felt…conditional.

If you’ve done everything you’re told, if you followed every rule and replied with ‘yes mother’ to every command, she’d adore you to the moon and back and call you her special beautiful girl. However, falter even once, break something or deny an order and you were met with a scowl and a judgemental stare for every action you made, every breath you took and every laugh you had.

You don’t think your mother ever wanted you.

From the moment you were born, you were made to entertain. The very reason of your birth, as your parents often claimed, was because Jason wanted a sibling, because their favorite boy was lonely.

You never really knew how your mother truly felt about you. Like any other parent, she’d claim she loved you, and only wanted what was best for you. to the point where she’d make you abandon all dreams and quirks of yours to fit into the standard she wanted you to be, the person she believed you must be.

There were times where you truly did feel that love, where you’d both laugh about what you did at school, or when yoi both would drink tea and gossip about your dad’s side of relatives. Sometimes, she’d see you and have the urge to hug, claiming she just loved you so much, the very thought of you being her child made her happy. Whenever you were injured or bloodied up, your mother would be panicking and hugging you for dear life, giving you a bountiful amount of love and attention you’d rarely feel from her in normal circumstances.

…there were times where you injured yourself on purpose, just so you could feel her worry. Feel her love. Feel her care.

They say that a mother’s love is unconditional, that no matter what, your mother would always love and adore you. but that was never the case with your  mother. The love you wanted to receive always had a price, always had a condition. And the reason for it is quite simple.

Your mother may love you.

 but she never liked you.

That, is the difference she had with other mothers. Mothers like spending time with their child. They like the child’s personality, hopes and dreams. They can imagine in another universe being their age and becoming their friend. Your mother was never like that. For you are the complete opposite of who she was. and she couldn’t tolerate that. She couldn’t ever accept that.

You often wonder if you’ve gotten the daydreaming side of you from your mother. A side she must be too embarrassed to discuss, because you swear that your mother had already made up a personality for you inside her head right before you were even born. She must’ve been daydreaming about a best friend's daughter, a girl that will help her dear mommy in any way she can and tries to make schedules and routines similar to her. She dreamed about having  a mini-me around. She wanted to raise her childhood self, give the love and support she never had as a child and live life bi-curiously through you.

But it failed. You were a failure. You were born a failure.

Something about that makes your heart ache.

The more memories that flash through your mind, the more you wish to escape your dreams and finally wake up. yet you’re stuck, paralyzed within this state of subconsciousness as more bitter memories flashed through you and more claims are made.

Then, suddenly, a horrid smell fills your nostrils and the world flashes white.

----

“*cough cough* GAH- that smell is disgusting!” a gurgle-like, constantly prideful and annoyed voice rings through your ears. “ I told you to just aim at her, not at me you fool!”

“Sorry boss, but you were kinda right beside her.” A goofier voice said.

“well couldn’t you just tell me?! was it that hard to just tell me to scooch away a little?!” your senses were slowly coming back to you, your mind still in a bit of  a haze. Once more all you see is colors. Shades of red and yellow all around you. with specks of white blending the background.

“but..you said to not talk to you until you’ve finished your villainess monologue to the captor.” It is now you finally regain sight and can fully see who's speaking. It was Cubot, holding what seems to be a gun and a sprinkler attached together.

“and what are you doing right now?” the man beside you, Eggaman, threatened.

“uh….” Cubot looks quiet for a moment, a finger under his chin as he genuinely thinks and contemplates about the question. “..not not talking?”

Eggman’s annoyed face just somehow deepens in its wrinkles and frowns as he facepalms. An angered and exhausted groan comes out of him as he looks at the two bots. “Just shut it and let me do my evil monologue in peace! “ he then sighed. “God, it’s like I have to do everything myself here!” he then turns back and faces the red one, which if you remember,is named Orbot. “ You! go fetch me my hot cocoa!”

“uh…sir..we’re out of hot cocoa powder.” Orbot worriengl;y replied.

“WHAT?! What do you mean we’re out?!—“

As Eggman starts another parade of enraged rambles to the bots, it’s at this time you decide to finally shake up the exhaustion in your mind and comprehend you surroundings. You try to wriggle your body, yet you found your hands tied to the back. great. Just fucking fantastic.

Moreover, there seems to be a barrier around you, a sort of laser-cage that ensures you don’t move an inch from the circle that’s deemed your prison. The room around you is strange, yet awfully intriguing. A house in pure white. Fitting for a scientist, you guessed. Though it was at that moment you remembered that Eggman was technically a robotist- not a scientist. So truly, the house being ensnared in white seems a little jarring. With how there was nothing but a work desk towards your left, a mixture of tools,gadgets  and blueprints cluttering the entire walls of the room, you guessed you’re at his workshop.

You look back at Eggman, who was still scolding the two now shaking bots like he doesn’t have a captor to attend to right now. with a clear of your throat, you grab the group’s attention and parepare your voice to sound unwavering and unbothered, because truly, you didn’t feel much fear anymore around Eggman’s presence. Sure you were a bit worried about his new plan, but from all the stories you heard about his silly antics and your previous interactions ending in his failure, you didn’t feel much threatened by him anymore.

“um..excuse me but- can I ask why I’m being kidnapped?”  you asked. “follow-up question- “ an unknown confidence blurred into you. where it came from, you’re unsure, but you couldn’t help but grin. “Can I have some hot cocoa too? I’ve been craving something sweet for a while now.” a hot cocoa will never beat your mother’s brownies, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to quench such a craving with another chocolatey sweet treat.

Orbot’s robotic faces somehow switched from neutral to excited as his hands clasped together in delight.”oh why of course! How would you like your hot cocoa? With marshmallows? Candy canes? Oh oh! maybe T-AaaAAH-“

Eggman suddenly  shoves Orbot away, quickly taking his rolling chair and sitting on it with a dramatic, villainy pose. He tries to ignore the pained groans Orbot gave or the clack and clatter of the items around him that fell into disarray as he shoved Orbot away.

He starts off with a prideful, villainous laughter. “We meet again, Doctor.” You couldn’t but hold back a smile, amused on how Sonic’s nickname for you is slowly spreading around the island. It’s nice to have the power to gloat your doctorate without lifting a finger or uttering a word. “ How foolish of you to let your guard down when your little miss ‘fuzzy puppies' partner—” he does a ‘quote on quote' hand gesture. His brows soon furrow and he looks at you with deep offense. “—which by the way, was my fuzzy puppies partner first—” he couldn’t help but mention. “—is out of town for the whole weekend.”

“Are your attacks always this frequent?” you couldn’t help but ask. “don’t you think it’s best to take time creating a plan first for a month or two and then attack?”

Eggman stills quiet for a moment, as if he’s truly considering your question. “And why would I do that?” he countered. “ It's my job to be a constant fear and menace! It’s all in the villain’s code of honor.” He suddenly puts one hand on his chest and the other high-up. “I vowed to destroy everything on sight, to be at present in the news columns at least thrice a month,to see my plans come to fruition as the world around me burns.” In this moment, your mind entertained a thought of a national-villain themed anthem of sorts playing behind him, all while his signature eggman logo was placed on a flag and flying with the soaring winds.

“…but…wouldn’t it give you more time to plan your evil schemes?” you shuffled a bit, trying to gain a more comfortable position even with the laser-like handcuffs limiting your movement. “ like- you could plan more than just another bot attack-you can even have more time to build more complicated robots! I mean- the first one I saw was a pretty strong one. But it probably took a long time to make, right?”

Orbot looked at Cubot with utter confusion. “Is she seriously giving her captor advice?”

Cubot shrugged.“Maybe we hit her on the head too hard?”

“SHUT IT YOU TWO! Can’t you see that I’m having a serious conversation with a fellow doctor?! Go get those hot cocoas ready already!”

With the shout startling both bots, they scurry away to the kitchen. Eggman quickly grabs a pen and paper and eagerly awaits for your input. “Now tell me, what did you think of my last attack at the village?”

---

Despite the shift of attitude with Eggman was a bit amusing, you still tred carefully when expressing your opinions on his previous attack. You made sure to add in advice,but nothing too specific that he could use to ruin the entire village with. It was simple things like attack in open areas next time, or don’t just bring laser-shooting bots in a street fight. Get a bit creative, make-up new bots rather than constantly fixing the old ones.

“Do you know how much money that would cost me?” he grumbled, notebook in hand. “Villainy isn’t cheap, you know.”

“then…how did you get all of this?” you look around the room, fidgeting a bit as you try to adjust your posture in this tied up position. “I’m pretty sure most of the items here cost even more than a few simple bot-making materials…”

Cubot suddenly chimes in. “Oh! we actually bought all of these second hand from villai-“ he’s quickly hit in the head by Eggman, whom was looking at him with warning. “…nevermind.”

“don’t listen to his prattle.” Eggman advised, then he groaned like a tired father. “I may have forgotten to place a few screws in this one’s head when I was making him.”

You felt pity for Cubot, his naivety reminding you a bit of yourself when you were younger. But then again, memory lane has been a horrid bitch to you ever since you got to this island, and you’re finding every little thing to be a reminder of your past. Cubot is now becoming one of them.

“my point still stands.”  You look back at Eggman. “your attacks are becoming way too boring.”

Eggman merely grumbles in annoyance, notebook slammed to the table and arms crossed like a moody child. An awkward silence takes over the room for a moment, making you realize just how uncomfortable your body was getting from being tied up for so long. then, Eggman gives another annoyed grumble and rolls his chair to meet Orbot.

“has he answered yet?!”

Orbot taps a few buttons on the phone, waiting in the line for a moment before sighing and shaKing his head no. Eggman’s brows furrow, he gets up and takes the phone from him and urgently taps the buttons on the phone with much more strength than Orbot has. His foot taps impatiently on the ground as the phone dials.

“ Hey Sonic! I don’t know where you are right now, “ he raised a brow. “probably taking a nap. But in any case- guess what?” he brings the phone to your vicinity, expecting you to say something on the phone. Instead, you gave him a mischievous smirk and then blew raspberries.

“w-what?! No!!!—“ Eggman’s eyes flared up in anger as he looked at you baffled. He then grumbled to himself, nodding and looking at you with annoyance and..a bit impressed. “well played…well played.” He brings the phone up to his ear again. “that wasn’t me by the way. I kidnapped that rebellious human as payback for the humiliation she brought on to me.” he then looks at you. “a payback that will be much harsher now that she has also ruined what was supposed to be a threatening call!” oh well, it was absolutely worth it. you couldn't help but give him a rebellious grin.  “Anyways, I hope this message finds you terribly, “ he hums. “goodbye.”

“Is that how you end every call?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“only when calling my enemies. For fellow comrades, I say ‘I hope this message finds you in an evil-scheming state.’”

“that’s quite the mouthfull..” you mentioned..

“It's the villain code.” He merely shrugged. “ You should see the villainous messages they send me and then judge.” He huffed in annoyance.

“wait a second---“ you looked at him in disbelief. “you…have contact with other villains?”

“What, you thought I was the only being looking for absolute dark control over this Island?” he scoffed.you do remember Tails talking about there being others when you first got here. “ Of course there are other villains. None are as great as me though.”

“no-I know that. I’m just…shocked that you guys like—contact each other. Shouldn’t you all be rivals?”

“We are but…uh..” he scratched his cheek for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it to your non-evil-scheming mind. “think of it..as a classroom.” He continued. “We all have the same enemy.”

“the teacher?”

He hums in delight. “correct! And we all need to beat the teacher by?...” he awaits your answer, acting like a teacher himself. A teacher for villainy. The thought makes you chuckle.

“uh…” you think for a moment, shuffling uncomfortably as the ropes on your wrist scratch your skin. At least the conversation with your kidnapper helps you ignore it. Is this what they call Stockholm syndrome? Probably not. “…by…killing the teacher?....” you joked, unsure of what the correct answer truly is.

“yes!” he exclaimed, Orbot and Cubot clapping for you in admiration. Cubot then turns to Orbot. “ She's really good at this. Are we sure she’s not a villain too?”

Orbot looked at him surprised. “did you just….actually ask a good question for once?”

Cubot scratched his metalic head at that, and you wondered, did…robots ever feel itchy?..did they feel any sort of sensations you feel on a day-to-day basis? Or was this all programmed to their brain as a way to imitate human- well, in this case, anthropomorphic—behaviour? Oh my god, are you actually interested in eggman’s work? Are you a villain in the making?

“but you see, you obviously can’t kill your teacher.” He shrugged. “or at least, they tell you you can’t. And so, what do you do? you do what the teacher hates you doing!.”

“fail their class?” you quickly added, but at the same moment, he too, added,“pass their class!!!”

You look at each other in dumbfounded silence.

“what? Are you pulling my leg here?” Eggman grumbled, yet it sounded more confused than angry. “why on earth would they want you to pass their class?”

“because it’s their job??” you pointed out with a huff. “ I mean- think about it- their entire purpose is to help their students pass—why on earth would they seek joy in failing you? If most students of the class fail, then the blame is not put on the students anymore, rather, it’s put on the teacher themselves, and they lose their job.”

Another eerie silence takes the room, and you’re left with an utterly dumbfounded and shocked eggman, processing the information you gave him.

“did she just….tell us that we’re….we’re actually…” Cubot looked at Orbot in horror. Orbot hesitated, yet turned around to him and soon replied. “..that…we’re actually..helping Sonic be a hero?....”

Your eyes go widened as well, suddenly realizing the simple infodump you just uttered was in fact, the most earth-shattering information they have ever received. To them, this simple flaw in comparison is worse than the curse of Ra itself. A curse that, you’re very certain they’ll bestow upon you now, if given the chance.

Both you, Orbot and Cubot look at eggman in concern, waiting to see what his reaction would be. And yet, he stands frozen, his brows still up in shock and his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t see behind his glasses, but you were certain his eyes were as wide as saucers now. He stayed like that for an excruciatingly long minute, and Orbot, all while clutching Cubot fearfully, quickly speaks up. “um….Dr.Eggman?....are you…alright?..”

He doesn’t give any response, something that concerns you all even more than before.

“should we dispose of her?” Cubot asked in concern, all while hiding behind Orbot.

“honestly?” you sighed. “I…wouldn’t blame you for that.” It was deserved, really. If you were told that you were actually aiding your mortal nemesis rather than destroying, you’d want to kill the fucker who told you that too.

However, eggman still stayed silent. He soon took a deep breath, his face turning into a deep frown as he turned around and walked to the telephone once more. He clicks a few buttons, then taps his foot impatiently as he waits for the dial to go in message mode.

“hello, Sonic, it’s me again, Dr.Eggman.” he starts formally. “GET YOUR PATHETIC BLUE SELF RIGHT HERE THIS INSTANT BEFORE I EXERCISE THIS…THIS DEVIL UP TO SMITHEREENS!!!” You all flinch and wince at the sudden bang in your eardrums. Yep, this is how you die. By giving the man you kidnapped you an existential crisis and making him think you’re the devil. You hoped Satan would at least give you a high-five for that on your way in. “get here NOW or else!” he quickly slams the phone back in its place, making you all flinch. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “you..you’re…” he wheezes out, shoulders slouching. “you’re somehow more evil than I am!” he said in a dramatic and slightly fearful tone. “How can you do it so easily?”

You shrugged, despite everything, amusement courses within you. It's impressive how much more confident you’ve gotten these past few weeks. You wonder if it’s because you’ve been surrounded by utterly confident and fearless people. “ It's all from my trauma, I think.”

“ah, so you’re a future serial killer in the making.” Orbot said in the most informative tone ever, a complete opposite energy of the thing he just implied. “fascinating, do you perchance also kill animals for fun?”

You look at him dumbfounded. “…I’m a vet, Orbot.”

“so?” he hummed, and you swore he was a bit amused by this. “ even doctors can be serial killers.”

“I’m done with the conversation now.” you sighed, not wanting to implicate yourself in such a dark light. And yet, they didn’t seem to take the hint. And whether it was for their evil amusement or general lack of intelligence, you were unsure.

“But, let's say you did have the ability to kill someone and get away with it.” cubot chimed. “Who would you choose?”

Eggman, who was distracting himself with some blueprints, also stopped what he was doing, apparently curious for your answer as well. they all awaited eagerly as you hesitated in your reply, in deep thought.

“uh…no one?” you huffed.

“seriously?” Cubot asked, a mix of shock and annoyance in his voice. “there’s not even one person you hate?”

“Well…” you considered things for a moment. What if you had the chance to kill louis? You do hate him for what he;s done. Maybe seeing him dead wouldn’t be so bad. And yet, as soon as you thought of that, the very idea of making him disappear from the world, you remembered the gleam of hope in his eyes, his sheepish smiles and his dumb jokes, his dorky interests, his desperate need to wins everyone’s approval, his desperate thirst for affection. Your heart aches.”…no, not really.” You could never do it. you could never do that to anyone. Not even Louis Clement.

Eggman groaned at that, rolling his eyes. “ So that's why you’re not a serial killer or genius villain.” He muttered to himself. “You care too much. You’re..emotional.” he gagged at the word, apparently sickened by the very concept of it.

“…nothing wrong about caring.” You muttered, your heart in a heap of swirling emotions you can’t comprehend. Eggman rolled his eyes at that. “There's nothing wrong with drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth either…but it still tastes terrible and makes you feel awful, doesn’t it?” he jabbed back.

“..comparing matters of the heart to something as simple as the rules of eating is ridiculous.” You huffed, now a bit offended to have your emotional state be compared to something like that. I mean, truly, what’s the problem with being emotional? Of choosing heart over logic?

“but it’s not wrong.” He continued to jab, shrugging playfully. “ There's nothing wrong with comparing things to food.” He mocked,his evil chuckle further adding more salt to the wound.

With an annoyed frown and grumble, you let the conversation end there, too tired and quite frankly, too hungry to continue this any longer. Soon, your stomach rumbles as your nose catches the scent and aroma of the ever-calming and delightful sweet treat, coco.

“The hot cocoas are ready!” Orbot exclaimed in excitement and delight, reminding you of a mother on christmas night.

Eggman clapped his hands in excitement as he took a mug from the trey, drinking the hot chocolate and sighing in satisfaction. He then snaps his fingers. “Cubot! Take a mug and hold it out for our capture over here.”

Cubot, despite his robotic face, somehow frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. You marveled a bit at how expressive eggman’s creations can get. “Why am I always the one who has to feed the kidnapped?”

“because you can’t even make a simple sandwich.” Orbot countered back with a sigh.his voice then got tinged with a bit of pride. “…let alone masterfully brew a relaxing cup of cocoa.”

“lEt alOnE MastERfuLLY BrEw A ReAlAxINg cUp OF cOaCoa.” Cubot mocked in a whiny voice, annoying Orbot in the process. He then groans, grabbing the mug from the trey and holding it out to your tiny circle-cell, immune to the laser around it, it seems.

You look at the hot cocoa suspiciously, giving a glare to eggman. “this isn’t drugged, is it?”

Eggman looks at you with disgust and offense. “ I’m a villain, not a monster.”

“…fair.” You hummed, giving a shrug, which further annoy your constrained wrists into pressure as you edge a tiny bit closer to the laser cell, Cubot’s hand reached out for the mug to reach your vicinity. You wait for moment for it to cool down, blowing on it a bit to somehow wipe away the steam that was pouring out of it. yet of course, it was to no luck, the steam was never-ending, and despite your better judgement, you take a sip, and soon, your taste buds get greeted to the sweetness of cacao and milk…mixed with….garlic?

Eggman gives a hearty chuckle as you spit out the drink, coughing a bit in shock, your tastebuds practically screaming in horror of the cacophony of flavors. “Still evil though.” He chimed, grinning triumphantly while you gave him a glare.

With a horrible lasting taste of cocoa now invading your tongue, you merely grumble as you zone out, letting your kidnappers chatter amongst themselves as you look at the clock, eyeing the ticking minutes and seconds, wondering where on earth Sonic could be.

It’s embarrassing, really, how much you rely on Sonic and the others’ aid when it comes to Eggman. Surely, you can’t expect them to always be there, right? a pang of guilt runs through you. you’re a deadweight to them, aren’t you? the damsel in distress, god, the thought of it makes you cringe and want to jump off the summit of the volcano. You really need to learn how to fight, or at least, learn self-defense.  But would that even work against someone like eggman, who has an army of bots always swarming the opponents?

Would you ever be good enough to fight alongside team Sonic?

----

Jason punched Cameron in the face.

he immediately cursed, spilling out a mouthful of ‘sorry’s as he helps a wincing Cameron get back up, immediately checking his face and frowning at the blooming red spot on his cheek now. “shit— Cameron, I don’t know what got over me—just—“ he tries to take a deep breath, trying to control the utter panic, terror and rage that was coursing through him. his rage, though unfortunately befallen onto Cameron, wasn’t directed at that poor soul at all. Louis fucking Clement on the other hand, can eat shit.

“no, no, I deserved that.” Cameron groaned in pain, rubbing his cheek to try to soothe the throb. “…I almost fucked everything up.”

“almost.” Jason sighed,tapping his fingers on the table. Brianna’s café feels awfully empty without the utter awkwardness and ‘I’ll-try-my-best-but-you-know-I’ll-somehow-fuck-something-up’ attitude Y/n always had here. he’s been avoiding coming here, for more reasons than just missing his dumb sibling’s presence. Hell, he used to act like he didn't know nor was he related to Y/n whenever she worked here. it’s always been this way. He always acted like they were entirely different people of their own, that their life doesn’t and should not coincide much with one another. it’s what helped him gain independence. It's what helped Y/n gain independence.

‘…maybe a little too much independence.’ He sighed at his thought. After all, only a maniac with no consideration for her family would immediately pack up her bags and run away to a stranded island, leaving her older brother to pick up the mess.

‘….but who drove her to that point?’ is a question that runs through his head day and night, a question he always throws away and tries to ignore how much it gnaws at his brain, eager to answer, yet too afraid to hear it. he shakes his head, taking a deep breath and looking at the now adjusted, yet still a bit in pain Cameron. “…so what did you tell him?”

“utter bullshit.” He huffed,thanking a waitress as she brought him a pack of ice, giving a warning glance to Jason to not lead this to a fight unless he wants to get kicked out. he straightens up a bit in slight alarm, holding his head down respectfully like a soldier. Cameron continued. “told him I took the yacht myself for a ride and broke it, now I owe my cousin a new one.”

“Did he ask anything else?”

“asked about my relationship with you.” he shrugged. “told him I only knew you in highschool.” Jason nods at that, giving out a sigh of relief. Louis suspicions may grow because of this, but at least he’s farther from the truth now. a deafening silence falls upon them. Soon, Cameron looks over to Jason curiously.

“so….what happened to her?” there was a hint of worry in his voice. a hint of guilt over everything. “Is she safe?”

Jason hesitates to answer, tapping his foot nervously. “define safe.”

“…oh god.” Cameron rubs his temples, his worry now evident. He takes off his glasses in stress, as if he doesn’t want to see Jason’s face right now, nor does he want to see anything clearly.

“she’s fine- don’t worry.” Jason quickly added, trying to ease his distress. “just…in a weird place.”

“where?”

“…you won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Jason,” Cameron looks at him with a deadpan expression. “I believe that there were anthropomorphic beings living with us in ancient times. Nothing can shock me.”

Suddenly, something in Jason’s mind rings, as if a lightbulb has flickered on top of his head as he looks at Cameron with franatic realisation, his posture straightening, eyes quickly skimming to see if anyone is paying attention to them before landing back on Cameron again, leaning a tiny bit closer as he mutters. “….what did you say those beings were called again?”

-----

The voice of cheers invaded the living room’s space, Eggman sat on his red couch, his ‘evil tea’ in hand. (his words, not yours. When asked what makes it so evil he said it was made with children’s tears and the leaves of poison ivy. You weren’t sure if he was messing with you or not. What made it more comical was that his mug was red, and his logo on it with devil horns.) Cubot and Orbot sat on the ground, you being between them. Since the hours of afternoon passed by with no Sonic nor even Knuckles and Tails in sight, Eggman decided to change the location of your imprisonment to somewhere more stimulating. Not for you, of course, but for him. he did consider leaving you here with the watchful gaze of his bots, but that soon changed when Cubot started picking at his own wires again and glitching, all while bumping into Orbot and making him fall, oil in his hands pouring to his circular head, then somehow Cubot bumping onto the counter, flicking the blowtorch and lighting Orbot’s head on fire.

Now, the slightly smoked bot was wiping the remaining cinder off his head, his expression, though limited, showing his discontempt. Orbot was happily watching the television as well, all while a bowl of snacks was in hand and trying to feed you. You were way too embarrassed by the notion, and though you were starving, you refused to get fed like that, remaining uncomfortably tied and still as you tried to distract your mind with the blaring lights on screen. Though the universe loved having you as its jester, fate still seemed to be on your side, helping you keep your promise to Amy by making Eggman watch Comedy Chimp.

After saying some rather dry yet unproblematic jokes, all while showing bloopers of the different residents of the island making ‘silly’ mistakes, the talk show host, Chimp, finally says something worth your attention. “Today, we have an incredibly special guest. Someone pink,someone heroic,” then, he put one of his hands up as if he was telling you a secret. “someone who might be a certain bluey’s girlfriend.” The crowd gives a resounding, choreographed ‘oooohh’ as Chimp winks mischievously, you couldn’t help but feel second hand embarrassment for Amy. “ladies and gentlemen let's give a warm welcome to Amy Rose!” the crowd cheers once more as she enters the stage, and you couldn’t help but proudly smile. Amy seemed a little annoyed, but she smiled politely to everyone, all while giving a glare to Chimp. “for the record,” she says as she sits down. “I am not Sonic’s girlfriend. And even if I was, that is not my entire personality.”

Chimp gives a hearty, professional laugh, looking at Amy with a half-assed apologetic glance. “Sorry ma’am, what can I say, I’m a sucker for gossip.” The crowd laughs with him, and Amy seemingly tries to hold back the urge to roll her eyes.

“So, Amy, tell me, how ya been?” Chimp leans in a bit closer, an act to show the audience he’s somewhat interested in what she has to say, and yet, his tone seemed off to you.

Despite that, Amy’s eyes shine with excitement, her posture straightening up a bit and giddy obvious in her grin. “well, you see Chimp, I’ve been getting very into interior design lately, and—“

“---yeah yeah that’s interesting and all,” Chimp immediately cuts her off with a wave of his hand, a flash of boredom held on his gaze, one that soon reverts back into the welcoming façade before anyone else could notice. “But I mean what’s going on with you.”

“um..” Amy gives a nervous laugh. “..excuse me?”

“oh come on, you know!” he then starts counting with his fingers. “unrequited love, roommate with a  horrendous being,” you choked on air on that one, shock, amusement and horror all going through you at once. Eggman however bolts out laughing, slapping his lap alongside it. “ your restaurant business going to shambles…I mean, it’s been quite the few weeks for ya, hasn’t it missy?”

“First of all, do not call me missy.” Amy growled, her rage now fully evident. while she was sitting poised and calm, her firsts were clenched, her eyes glaring daggers at the host. You admire how she’s trying to control her temper even when faced with such public humiliation,had it been you, you would’ve pounced at the monkey and punched him to death.”Second of all, Sonic and I are not dating. And we never have. And I have a life outside of him, so you better stop associating every little thing I do to him!” she practically screams the last part, you were certain she wanted to say this sentence for a very, very long time. Much longer than when this interview was scheduled. “Third of all,” her right eye twitches. “don’t you ever, and I mean EVER call my friend a ‘horrendous being.’ever.again—“ she then points to him threateningly. “—unless you want a good smack with my hammer for it!”

Chimp gets taken aback, holding his hands up in defense as he gives a nervous laugh. “Woah there Miss-er…Madame Rose,” he gives a strained, stressed smile. “I’m just speaking for the public here— I merely ask what the audience, both here and at home, want to ask you themselves.”

“oh really?” She questions, then looks at the camera scornfully. “Well if that’s the case then, why don’t you cowards come and say it to my face?!” you swore you could hear Sticks cheering her from behind the scenes. A sense of pride washes over you, and unconsciously, your once solemn and curious expression at the start of the show has become one of enjoyment and pride. Chimp taps something in his ear, listening closely before a grin covers his once serious face. “Well then, you heard her folks!” he quickly yells, stealing everyone’s attention as Amy looks at him confused. “both the audience here and the ones at home, why don’t ya give us a call right now and ask your questions?” The crowd cheers once more, giving positive astonishment to the sudden idea, all while Amy looks at them all dumbfounded, soon then grumbling from embarrassment and sitting back down, looking at Chimp judgmentally.

“What does live mean?” Cubot points to the watermark on the top right of the screen.

“it's pronounced ‘lay-ive’ not ‘lee-ve’.” Orbot replied, yet before he could continue, cubot gasped.  “you mean the TV is ALIVE?!” as Cubot smacks his head in shock, Orbot smacks his own head in disappointment.

The more questions popped, the more furious you got. Every single resident has been asking obscenely personal or arbitrary questions, further adding to Amy’s humiliation. You wanted to do something, you had to do something. You can’t just idly sit by (well, kidnappedly -if that even is a word- sit by) and let them ridicule your friend like this, not when she stood up for you.

“Eggman,” you sighed. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“I’m sorry, do you think you’re a house guest here?” Eggman looked at you mockingly. “Do you really think I do favors for my prisoners?”

“I’m not asking as a prisoner,” you countered. “I ask as a fellow doctor and…” your eyes lit up in quick realization, further adding,” as a fellow fuzzy puppies player.”

He raised a brow, crossing his arms and humming thoughtfully. “go on.”

----

‘It is un-lady like to kill someone with your bare hands on live tv.’

That is the sentence that was constantly echoing through Amy’s mind, holding her rage in a tight disciplinary grip, her hands almost ripping her clothes to shred with the sheer grip she has on them.

Is this truly her legacy? She couldn’t help but think. Is this what all her efforts winded up to? all this time spent on being true to herself, on mastering every skill she admired, all for it to be tied to the stereotypical beliefs of hers that she was constantly running from? Amy was enraged, she wanted to scream, to show them how mad she can get, how easily she can cause a wreckage of chaos with no one being able to stop her fury. And she was certain that Sticks was rooting for her to do exactly that. Burn the set down, smash everything up with your decorated hammer.

But, once again, the sentence echoed. Amy Rose was a lady. She was not a brutish man whom only speaks with their fists, even Knuckles, despite all his stupidity that comes from choosing brawn over brain, still is a gentleman when he wants to be. He still holds enough respect and honor to others that he doesn’t go smashing everything just because he feels like it. He is no brutish man, he was a honourable fighter. Sticks, despite all her ludicrous actions, always has the island’s best interest at heart, and yes maybe she did bite some civilians and possibly gave them rabies but— she still did it as a way of protecting the island, to save the most people she can. She is the reason why the jungle is so rich and luxurious, why it’s still alive and hasn’t fallen prey to the industrial, money hungry hands of businessmen like Chimp. In truth, this is who Chimp is. Not a comedian, not a celebrity, not a host, but a businessman. He follows trends, found a solution to a problem, and has made money off of it. People were craving a talk show of their own ever since seeing one in the abandoned cartoon tapes they found at sea, and Chimp provided them with this service.

Yes, everyone has a role here. Everyone has a part to play, and therefore, Amy can’t break away from her script, even if she wanted to. She needed to act poised and well-mannered. She needed to be a lady.

But god did she really wanna punch Chimp right now.

As more questions came and the more snarky yet polite answers she gave, she was beginning to feel a deep sorrow within her. A sense of hopelessness in the moment. Are all her efforts that unappreciated? Is no one ever going to appreciate the hard work she puts into everything she does? What's the point of doing them if no one will be grateful?

“Our next caller’s name is…Y/n L/n. take it away Y/n, ask Missy over here your inquistive question!” her eyes snap open wide from the mention of her name. Amy’s ear quickly sharpens, giving the camera a dumbfounded glance.

“Thank you, jackass.” Your amused voice goes through the speakers, and a sense of relief, amusement and excitement went through Amy’s heart, her once embarrassed gaze now filled with a sense of admiration, all topped off with a grin as she sees the befuddled expression Chimp wears, all while the audience laughs at the caller’s sheer audacity. “Lady Rose,” you start off, treating Amy with much more respect than Chimp, which makes him pout like an angry child. “ you mentioned something about ‘Interior design’ at the start of the show…well, you see, I have this amazing roommate. She has the best goddamn taste in the world. in fashion, paintings and even interior design, she has shown me the sheer beauty that can be seen in even the most mundane of things…I’m gonna get a treehouse soon and, I really, really wanna impress her…so do you have any good tips I could use?”

Amy couldn’t help but let out a huff of astonishment, looking at the camera gratefully, as if she was looking at you only. She gives a small smile, nods her head and leans back in the chair. “Of course, Y/n. I’ll tell you all you need to know…”

Seeing this as a golden opportunity, Sticks hijacked the technical department of the show, threatening or tying up anyone who tried to kick her out, all while keeping you on call with Amy. The show ended in Amy rambling on and on about her business, the audience finally taking her seriously and asking questions of their own, and soon, the once ridiculing and boring talk show has become some sort of a ted talk for Amy Rose, her dream come true.

------

The night was spent in a terrible, ache-filled sleep. And as you woke up with the worst bed-head known to man, you felt a bit dreadful at the fact that there was still no blue speedy in sight. Eggman, however, was blazing with utter fury, muttering curses to Sonic under his breath as he angrily tapped his telephone, leaving his hundredth voice message to him.

With a bit of a drowsy mind, your thoughts drift curiously into a territory you hadn't thought of before, and soon, you bite the bullet and shoot through the silence. “…how did you get here?”

“by walking up the stairs, obviously.” Eggman grumbled, eyes still glued to the telephone. You give a disgruntled hum at that.

“No..I mean…” you look at him as earnestly as you could. “How did you get here? on this island?”

Eggman froze, the dial soon forgotten as his head snapped back to you, a contemplative expression on his face. “…I…” his tone indicated that he wanted to start his story with utter confidence, to explain an epic tale of a villainous scheme, yet, his tone faltered mid-way, as his brows furrowed and his once manically excited grin turned to a befuddled frown. “…don’t remember..” he muttered as if it was more of a question for himself rather than an answer to yours. “ ..I believe I was..on my ship…yes, I woke up on my ship, and found myself here…” he then gives a thoughtful hum. “strange…how come I can’t remember how I got here?...” he then races to his computer, tapping his fingers away as his eyes scan the screens. You’re not sure what he’s exactly searching for, but, if you were a strange scientist who found themselves on a lost island, the first thing you’d do was look at security tapes within that very ship to see what exactly happened. You guessed Eggman was doing just that. “…nothing…” he gave a hum of displeasure, giving the screen a puzzled look. He sits quiet for a moment, but then shakes his head and waves his hands at you. “it doesn’t matter-“ he quickly dismissed. A little too quick for your taste. “all you need to know is that I got here to conquer the Island, and that petulant hedgehog you call a ‘friend’ is in my way.”

“but…why do you want to conquer the island?”

Eggman gives a pleased hum to your question, tapping a red button on his keyboard. “I thought you’d never ask!” he said in a sweetly villainous tone, sounds of machines clanking and engines running roar at the insides of the counter, which soon slid inside and came back up with… a mock-up mini version of an amusement park?....

“….are you serious?” you looked at him in utter disbelief and quite frankly, deep sense of confusion. “you’re…doing all of this to make an amusement park?”

“not just any amusement park.” He mused, taking out a small egg-shaped billboard he had in his pocket this entire time.” Egg-tropolis!” he neatly puts it on the top of the volcano. “a world of egg-tastically fun rides and robotic wonder! Where everything is a goldmine for mone-well…” he clears his throat. “ a gold-mine and safe haven for children! “

“…couldn’t you just…pick another island?” you proposed, and Eggman looked at you disappointed.

“do you truly think I’m dumb enough to not consider that?” Well, you are dumb enough to plan multiple egregious robot attacks on an island with little to no success all for the sake of an amusement park. However, that’s not something you could tell your captor, not unless you wanted to be turned into a robot yourself. Eggman then sighed. “I already tried to leave this place, but there’s some sort of strange barrier trapping us all inside.”

“…what.” You felt a sense of utter dread and confusion go through you. you weren;t even sure why such a fact was so dreadful for you. you never wanted to leave anyway, did you? then why be so glum that the very choice was taken away from you in the first place? “then..how the hell did I get in?”

“that’s the thing.” Eggman grumbled, once again clicking at his keyboard. “the Island lets anybody in, but nobody out. it’s like it locks itself from the outside.”

Strange. This is all too goddamn strange. There's a sense of hesitance and danger in the pits of your stomach, something that tells you the whole thing goes much deeper than a simple, magical and zany coincidence. Whatever it is, it’s..baffling, to say the least. The more you stay in this island, the less you know about it. you give a tired grumble, head falling back to the cold wall behind you as you watch eggman click away,’he’s probably doing something scientific that I’d never be able to comprehend…’

“here are the top ten ways to walk like a villain!” suddenly blares from the computer’s speakers, eggman quickly taking notes.

You hold back your amused huff.’…or…maybe not.’

----

Tick,tock,tick,tock,

The common and oddly comforting sound of the clock echoes through the lab, all of you watching it in boredom, the two robots tired, you uncomfortable, and eggman deeply agitated. As another minute passes by the clock, moving it’s long stick an inch closer, Eggman shoots up in rage. “where in the world is he?!” he groaned. “he should’ve been here yesterday! What, is he too good for me now? am I not a worthy adversary?” with fury bouncing in each step, eggman tears apart some of his blueprints, grabbing a new one and angrily scribbling on it. “I’ll show that pesky bug who exactly he;s ignoring right now—“

A zap of blue passes through you.

Chills run down your spine, a glimmer of hope igniting with your heart, your tired eyes shot up in sheer shock as you look around the room, your anxiety rejoicing and forming into a tranquil song of peace and amusement as you see your favorite speedster.

Sonic huffed in exhaustion, as if he was actually going quicker than he usually was, actually losing his breath from his sheer speed. His eyes quickly scanned across the room, widened and worried. When it finally lands on you, he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing.

“took you long enough!” Eggman growled, grabbing a remote control on the table. “Do you know how much my phone bill is gonna cost now?!”

Sonic rolls his eyes,twisting his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. “I’m not the obsessed rival here, Egghead.” He gets into a fighting position. “let go of Y/n and I’ll consider going easy on your toys.”

Eggman’s eyebrows furrowed, head practically turning red in anger as he grumbled. “ They are not toys.” He then points to you. “and for your information, doctor Y/n here had one of the best captive experiences out there. didn’t you, doctor?”

“zero stars.” You immediately replied, Eggman giving you an offended gasp and Sonic grinning mischievously, eyes brimming with amusement. “ The staff kept asking me dumb questions and the room service was shit. My pillow was on the dirty ass floor.”

 “That explains your hair,” Sonic chuckled.

“---again, you’re not a guest here- you’re a captive.” Eggaman countered back, frowning. “you should see how the other villains treat their captives!”

You give Sonic a glare, though there was a playful glint to it. “ Can it, bluey. I’m not the one who's late here.”

“yeah yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I have a good reason for it.” he then grins. “It's one hell of a story. you still up for chilli dogs after this?”

“Don’t try to ignore me!” Eggman yelled in annoyance, clicking the red button on his remote. “Let's see if you can even survive long enough to even see the outside world!”

As an army of bots runs across multiple sections of the room to your space, practically invading the entire laboratory in a defensive position, you look at Sonic sternly, a playful smile on your face. “I want those damn chili dogs, Sonic.”

Sonic snickered, putting his hands on the ground,his spikes igniting in electrical blue as he smirks. “Roger that, doc.”

----

You’re not sure how long the fight took, but you do know it was much less than an hour.

It seems like Eggman has completely forgotten what he wanted to do when Sonic got here, since it took so long for him to do so. Enraged and frazzled, he practically swarmed him with random bullshit hoping it could defeat his enemy, but of course, Sonic could easily speed through each and every bot, attacking them with rolling ease. When the dust settled and the last bot just straight up shut itself down to save the pain of being destroyed by the hero’s high kick, Sonic quickly stole Eggman’s remote and broke it, the lazer barriers of your tiny prison fading, your shoulders relaxin from relief, yet then wincing as the strain of the ropes hit you once more. God, your back will be destroyed from this experience, you just know it.

Sonic quickly unties you and gives you his hand. Your muscles cry out in freedom, a relaxed sigh leaving you as you take his hand to stand up, yet soon wobbling down and getting grabbed by him. your legs were like jelly, shocked by the sudden jolts of movement you’ve done after two straight days of none. Sonic looks at you with a  tinge of worry as you apologize sheepishly, holding onto him for support.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyes raking over your form to look for any injuries. You simply shrugged. “not really…unless you can call a bad cup of hot cocoa an attack.” You tried to joke, to lighten up the quieted mood of the place. Sonic smiled, rolling his eyes as he yoinked you up again, much to your shock.

“You can’t walk, and I can’t for the life of me walk slowly.” He argued before you could even mutter your protest, looking at you with a reassuring smile. “I’m just returning the favor.”

You knew what he meant. The day you carried him. you look at him playfully annoyed. “ I was returning your favor, idiot.”

“Well, let's just say this is returning the favor.” He shrugged, giving you a wink and grin. You rolled your eyes, giving up and wrapping your arms around his neck. He wanted to soon bolt out the door, yet your tap on his shoulder made him stop and look at you confused. You motioned for him to turn around, your figure not in front of a defeated and annoyed eggman.

“For what it’s worth,” you gave a small smile. “I enjoyed our conversations, Doctor.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, Eggman and Sonic looking at you with disbelief, the latter even more so than the former. Cubot and Orbot gave each other confused shrugs, unsure of what to make of this. Eggman gives a begrudging hum of approval, turning his head away from you both. “…….likewise, I guess.”

You smiled, and with a nod to the speedster, you were quickly ushered out of the infamous Eggman’s house, and saw the sunset cast over the island.

------

“Would you stop looking at me?! I can’t eat when someone’s staring!” you giggled, a wave of embarrassment jittering through you as you locked eyes with the excited hedgehog beside you. The chili dog in your hands was giving a sense of warmth through the freezing night beside the beach, the waves a calming allure.

“and miss the expression you’ll make when having your first ever chili dog?!” he shook his head, taking a bite of his own chili dog. “This is a once in a lifetime experience, doc! This is even more important than witnessing a baby’s first steps!”

“multiple parents will beg to differ.” You smile, amused by his eagerness for such a mundane meal. He scoffs in reply, crossing his arms. “ Well they obviously never tasted chili dogs. Speaking of which,” he looks at you with excitement again. “cmonnn, doc, don’t make me wait all day. Eat the chili dog! Eat the chili dog!” he chanted.

You quip a brow. “like how you made me wait two days for a rescue?” you acted disappointed, shaking your head and grimacing. “ you’re such a hypocrite speedy…”

He rolls his eyes, smacking his face and groaning a bit in shame and guilt. “I said I’m sorry, ok?” yet, he grins at you, knowing this was mere play. “ If you eat this now, I’ll never be late to your rescue ever again.”

“promise?”

“I swear on it.” he dramatically puts a hand on his heart. “If I’m ever late to your rescue, I’ll never eat a single chili dog ever again. I vow by it." He speaks in a deeply formal tone, unlike his usual carefree and sarcastic one. It makes you giggle, and sonic beams at your lifted mood, despite the troubles you’ve been through these past few days.

“Then I shall remember this vow, Sonic T.hedgeheog,” you give him a cheshire grin, holding a hand on your heart. “Let the record show that my only reason for eating this chili-filled mess is through the vow and promise of a prosperous future, full of rescues and quick speed.” He laughed alongside you, and soon, an exciting silence filled the room as you brought the chili dog closer to your mouth and took a bite.

“….well?” Sonic asked, an edge of excitement and inquisition in his voice. “Do you like it?....”

“it’s….” you chew a bit more, gulping it down slowly, only to further tease him with your answer. You then smiled and nodded your head. “It's pretty good.”

“See?! I told you!” he jumped in excitement, grinning with triumph. “it’s the best kind of hot dog- no, best kind of food, out there!”

“it’s certainly better than a normal hot dog..” you take another bite, savoring the spiciness of the chili. “much better than anything Meh Burger has, I’ll give you that.” You gulped, then nudged his shoulder. “so…anything else happen besides the whole guilt-tripping thing?” After the initial rescue, Sonic brought you back to your shared home with Amy, explaining the reason for his absence in the two days. Apparently, some civilization in the far corners of the island were constantly attacked by robbers, and after saving them, the people guilt-tripped Sonic and Tails into staying for the night, and were planning on making them live as their guardians forever.

“except the stressful event of going through a thousand phone mails Egghead sent me about kidnapping you? “ Sonic sighed, leaning back on the tree. “nope, nothing to tell.”

“..you gotta admit though, the first message was hilarious.” You giggled.

Sonic chuckled, giving you a reluctant nod. “It was pretty bold, I won't lie…”He smiled. “you’re always full of surprise, aren't you,doc?”

You merely shrug pridefully, giving a victorious smile to the roll of his eyes. You lean back on the tree beside him, both quietly listening to the waves of the water as you look up to the sky. Stuck in a river of your thoughts, you take out your phone and sigh.

“What's wrong?” Sonic turns back to look at you better, giving you a curious glance. You hold out your phone to him, showing the lack of battery power left. “it’s on its last breath.” You reply, scrolling through the pictures and messages that have accumulated your phone over the years.

 Sonic looks at you a bit puzzled. “Can’t you ask Tails to fix it?”

“he tried to but..it didn’t work.” It was the first thing you’ve done on your second day here, immediately after noticing the damaged charger, you brought it back to Tails for repair, only for him to look at you apologetically and explain how the parts needed for it can’t be found easily on the island, especially since the electrical outlet and electricity of your device in general is completely different from the one the island uses. You noted to yourself to one day research a bit more about this ever-confusing island, especially since you’re probably gonna live here for the rest of your life, given eggman’s explanation of the supposed ‘barrier’.

“damn..” Sonic gives you an apologetic look, one you quickly shook your head to and tried to ease his worry. “It'll be fine.” You shrugged. “I didn’t really use it much here anyway…the only thing I’ll miss is my songs..” you look back at the screen, a nostalgic feeling resurfacing within you as you click the play button, a song erupting from your phone’s speakers. It was one of your favorite songs, one that made you feel upbeat and energetic, the beat stuck in your brain like a worm, constantly feeling the need to dance to it. like right now.

You swish from side to side at first, nudging Sonic playfully as he huffs in a mix of annoyance and amusement by your actions, then, you grin playfully at him, taking note of the seemingly grumpy mood the ever-so-usually-ecstatic your companion has. You get up, eyes on him as you swish around, dancing with zero coordinance and swaying with the beat, lip-syncing the song terribly as you hold out a hand to him.

“nope.” He shakes his head, then brings his arms up to rest under his neck, getting into a more relaxed position, wanting the action to urge you to give up on this newfound quest of yours. “I’m fine right here.” he gives a fake relaxed hum, closing his eyes, yet peering open one to see if you’ve given up or not, huffing in amusement when he sees your determined insistence.

“cmonnn speedy,” you reenact the tone he had when he urged you to take a bite of the chili dog. “It's not everyday I get to see the sonic the hedgehog dance!!”

“Oh yeah? Well you won’t see it today either.” Sonic smirked at your grumble, snickering as he adjusted himself on the tree. “I don’t dance, doc. Never have, never will.”

“nonsense,” you still continued to sway around a bit with the beat as you continued. “you look like someone who does fortnite dances.”

His eyes widened, looking at you with shocked giddy. “the hell is that supposed to mean?!” he couldn’;t helo but laugh, never expecting you to be one for jabs.

“you heard me, speedy.” You smirked. “Only the people who are shit at dancing are scared to dance. So tell me, speedster, are you a loser at dancing?” you questioned, a hint of competitiveness in your voice. Sonic froze, giving you a begrudging, respectful nod.

“Touche doc…touche…” he mutters as he gets up, rolling his eyes as you outstretch your hands for him once more, grabbing it and letting you pull him to the sand and sway with him. as your favorite part of the song comes, you jump excitedly, looking at him determined as you terribly lip-sync the part with an imaginary microphone in your hand, knowing fully well that you’re the complete definition of cringe. Sonic looks at you amused, a bit impressed and endeared by your walls crumbling down now, feeling comfortable enough to do such silly things next to him. to show his appreciation, he starts trying to dance silly with you, of course, not before checking to see if anyone was watching. With reassurance that no one was within the beach other than you two idiots, he starts dancing and lip-syncing with you, smiling as he sees you giggle in utter giddy and hold his hand as you twirl around, unabashedly and shamelessly enjoying your time with no fear of the consequence. It’s admirable, really. Sonic noticed that you were one who often feared what people think of you, who often felt uncomfortable by the gaze of others, by the judgement of theirs. It was something completely noticeable on your first days here. and yet, in these two months, you’re finally breaking out of your shell. At least, in front of him. and he feels proud, in fact, he feels honored to be the one who witnesses your first ever splash of shameless silliness and tom-foolery, uncaring of who might see you. you feel comfortable enough to do this now.

You feel comfortable enough to do this with him.

You feel comfortable with him.

It's strange how this very thought makes Sonic feel a sense of pride, some sense of accomplishment and gladness for such a fact. But it’s here, warm and fuzzy, making him jolt with the intense giddiness that you were erupting with and now he’s jumping alongside you, terribly lip-syncing next to you as for a moment, he forgets his cool guy, heroic façade, he forgets his own sarcasm, his responsibilities, his self-image and everything around him. In this moment, all that mattered was that life beside you was fun, that you could make even the dumbest of things somehow excitable. He never cared for dancing, always found it boring and a tad embarrassing. Yet with you, it felt fun. With you, he now understood what dance truly is, why people like it so much. As you hold your hand in his and circle around the place, jump up and down and sway left and right with utterly cringe-worthy and non-professional dance moves, the glue of exhaustion he felt these past few days was washed away with the shores, and he was left with you, dancing till the phone’s battery dies out.

To you, you wouldn’t have spent your last remaining phone batteries any other way. This truly was the perfect way to waste it, the best way to say goodbye to your old world, and welcome the new one. with sonic by your side, dancing with you through it all.

---------

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you sooner.” Sonic heaved out, on the ground beside you. both of you were trying to catch your breath, your phone finally died. You nudge him, which he winces at, giving you an annoyed grumble.

“stop apologizing, dumbass.” You smiled, gazing at him softly. “You don’t need to always be the hero.”

He stays quiet at that, eyes slightly widened, yet contemplative and in deep thought, he looks up at the sky once more, taking a deep breath. “..but I do.”

“hm?”

“I do have to be the hero.” He muttered, hand going up to the sky, as if he was trying to reach the stars. He then opened his palm, looking at his gloves thoughtfully. “I mean…everyone wants me to be the hero. The Gogobas, the townsfolk, eggman, you guys….you all want me to be the hero. To save the day.”

“I don’t.” you replied. “I didn’t expect you to save me.”

“but you wanted to, didn’t you?”

You stay silent at that. A pit of guilt forming in your gut.

“that still doesn’t make it right.��� you slowly reach out your own hand, having it be next to his. “ That doesn’t mean you have to be the hero. It just means I’m pathetic and I need to learn how to fight for myself.”

“you’re not pathetic.” Sonic argued, hand mindlessly getting a bit closer to yours. “you’re one of the strongest people I know. and these?” he points to the scars on your arm. The ones who you got from eggman’s lasers. “These are proof of it.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, leaning it a bit closer to his. “..don’t change the subject, Sonic.” You feel him jolt, freeze a bit as you see the crack in his ploy. “you’re sweet…but don’t go changing the subject to me. this is about you.”

He stays silent. Only the voice of crickets and waves could be heard as your hands were held up in the sky, as if you were both touching the stars above. His hand slowly comes to hold yours. “….i meant what I said though.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “you’re the bravest girl I know.”

“I saw Sticks once fight a bear.”

“Sticks is crazy, not brave.” He quipped, and you couldn’t help but laugh, turning around and letting both of your hands fall to the ground, still entwined as you lock eyes with him. your amused smile turns into a thoughtful one, tilting your head and peering at him concerned. “….I stand by what I said.” You mumble. “…you don’t need to be a hero. If not to them, then to me. you don’t need to be a hero with me. I don’t want a hero. I want Sonic.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching as he looked at you dumbfounded, one that was laced with admiration. You give his hand a squeeze, then turn around to look at the sky, heart filled with determination. “and I’m not just saying that. I’ll prove it to you, speedy.” You hummed. “I’ll show you that you don’t need to hold responsibility over my safety, you don’t need to feel pressured by me. ever.”

“that’s not—“

“I know, it’s not.” You quickly cut him off. “But you deserve better. And I want to give you something better.”

He stays quiet, gaze never tearing away from you as you stare at the stars, planning and preparing for your goal. He wondered, what was going on in that overthinking head of yours? Is your mind ever tired of thinking? Or is this just normal for smart people like you?

Whatever it was, it made Sonic feel a sense of calm wash over him. a chuckle leaves him, looking back up to the sky, hands still entwined with yours.

“….I’m glad you’re here, doc.”

------A/N-------

*barges into the room all bloody and panting, eyes dead shot and bags under them, twitching like crazy, body shaking maddeningly as she slams some crumbled paper onto the table, then grabs you by the shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes* IM ALIVE. I LIVED. I SURVIVED. IM HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE *explodes*

Hi , hello, bonjour, salam, I’m alive, barely. No I did not have a good few years. Nope this break was absolutely not intentional. Yes I missed you all. yes OF COURSE this fic is gonna be continued. No I don’t know when the next chapter will be, ok? Ok.

Ok, so now for the long explanation.

Hello folks! A lot has happened these past few years, and I deeply and sincerely apologize for the late update. I honestly can’t even believe I finally finished this chapter…it feels surreal. This chapter has been in production for like.. three years??? And there are multiple reasons for it.

1-     I’ve been going through a lot lately.like, A LOT. As most of you know, most of y/n’s traumatic experiences root from my own experience, and since I’m a minor, I’m still living in the dysfunctional house I’ve been inspired to write about. Not only that, I began the horrific experience of socializing with fellow peers at the incredibly late age of 15, and now, two years later, I am beginning to remember why I never wanted to socialize in the first place. Senseless drama, non-communicative relationships, and lots and lots of bullying. Now, you may be asking, why was I bullied, well, this leads to

2-      Reason no.2. I have been officially diagnosed with ADHD, depression and Anxiety. Honestly, I’ve known this fact about me for a very, very long time. I noticed how most of my ‘irregular’ actions that my family sees as ‘regular’ are ones that my own father and dad’s side of the family all have, and therefore whenever I tried to explain my mental health issues or basic life issues like not being able to focus well or study like a normal person does, my parents would always undermine it and say I’m merely overreacting. However, after years of fighting, I was finally able to get myself a therapist, and she was so utterly horrified by my test results and conditions that she immediately told my parents to have me checked and medicated lmaooooo. So yeah, after some testing, they found out I wasn’t bluffing. I got all the big three’s from my dad. Adhd, depression and anxiety. This journey of mine caused a lot of mental anguish, because I realize why I always felt so out of place and different from my fellow peers, and I now fully understood why my classmates have been bullying me. it was because I was the ‘weird kid’ of my class. I was the one who often talked to herself, who when overwhelmed with emotions goes around the room walking and muttering to herself (though in front of them, this only happened once. But i'm very certain they saw this as a way of me wanting to get attention or smth and the bad vibes have started since then) I was the weird girl who could speak english way better than her own mother tongue, so she’s definitely just doing it for attention, right? when in reality, I was NOT doing it for attention. I genuinely had a problem with my country's main language, and all my friends and family knew this. but they thought that this was just a way to gain ‘attention’ because in my country, mastering the english language is a very admirable trait. So yeah, my neurodivergency has caused me to go through a lot of mental abuse and sometimes even physical from both my school and my own home. This made me be in a horrible headspace, and for a very long while I stopped writing all together. I couldn’t write a single thing.

3-     I have a terrible, TERRIBLE perfectionist mindset. I often look at something I wrote two weeks ago and cringe. It's usually worse when I notice that the thing I wrote didn’t get much attention. For example, I wanted to write a complete slugterra fic, but since the first chapter didn’t get much attention (and frankly, writing was, it was shit.) I felt anxious and put myself through a lot of pressure into making sure my writing doesn’t falter. This led me into ignoring stranded, because I feared that if I started writing, ill regret what I wrote again and completely rewrite it. this happened a lot of times. Over 10k words have been lost at sea now with all the goddamn rewrites i've done. Not to mention, I somehow got possessed by some writing spirit and wrote over 30k words oneshot for one unpopular character. Obviously, it didn’t get as much attention as I was hoping for (though I did receive incredibly lovely comments) and once again, I felt like shit lmao. I kept thinking that perhaps I am just a god awful writer, that maybe I’m just some cringey loser who's shit at writing and should just never write again. just dumb negative thoughts like that. I’ve began to become incredibly and deeply insecure over my writing, and added with my perfectionist mindset, it just ruined everything.

4-     Life. i've just been so busy with life man. im literally gonna take an exam tomorrow and I didn’t study shit for it LMAO. I'm in my last year of highschool rn, and when I started this fic, I was at..like the start of highschool. So yeah, these past three years I’ve been through hell. Especially since I’m in an art school. It’s been dreadful. I’ve lost all my passion for art as a whole and felt incompetent at drawing and sketching, which are the main basis of getting good at art. There’s also been an abundant amount of pressure on me about my future, since I NEED to get good at art, but I no matter how hard I practiced, I kept coming back empty handed. I felt so useless. I felt like a complete loser. And my teachers and classmates were NOT helping lmao. But now, thankfully, I think im beginning to see some improvement in it. if you guys have any tips, I’d be incredibly grateful.

Ummm anyway if you want more chapters PLEASE COMMENT!! RAMBLE!!!! TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER!!! I want to personally thank all the dear lovely readers who've been commenting for me to give out an update to this fic. Though yeah some authors think its annoying, I ACTUALLY FIND IT VERY ENDEARING!!!! SO DO THAT!!!! RAHH!!! I love knowing that someone wants to hear more of my silly stories, so thank you so much to all the folks who kept up with me and thank you all SO SO SO MUCH for being patient with me!!! I hope you liked this chapter!!! I promise we’ll have MUCH more sonic interactions in the future. We’re finally digging into the cusps of act 1. Miueheheheehhe I CANNOT wait to write it. THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!!! BYE!!! OH ALSO IM SO SO SORRY IF THIS CHAPTER SEEMED DRY IT HAD TO BE A LORE-DUMP SO I CAN EASILY WRITE MORE SONIC STUFF IN THE FUTURE. THIS IS A SLOWBURN CHAT IM SORRY LMAOO LRMKLFELKMGRW

[lgwifey]

PROMISE

Chapter Five • Chapter Four Here •

Demetri Volturi x Fem!(cullen)Reader

Chapter Warnings : Google translated Italian & French, brief mention of traumatic events, description of killing animals, this has not been proof read and is adapted from one of my Wattpad drafts so pls ignore any slip ups 🫶

Jane had shown her into a large suite, a mixture of warm grey and peacock blue decorating the walls and furniture. A sweet scent of citrus suffocated her as soon as the door opened, her dead heart awakening into palpitations for some obscure reason. The witch twin clearly didn't notice anything as she just left the newest member of the guard by herself, a scowl sent her way before she vanished.

A large bed sat in the centre of the room, Y/N grimaced slightly at the thought of why that was needed. She'd never had a bed since she was turned, but the rest of her family did. Edward had only gotten one recently, as a place for 'the human' to sleep. She preferred her sofas.

Her eyes found one in the corner of the room, infront of a large arched window looking onto the fields surrounding the town. The dark grey, velvet fabric was worn at points, clearly having been treated well but ageing naturally as time passed. She began to wonder how much older some of the objects in the room were compared to her.

On the same side of the room was a relatively large bookcase, similar to the size of her own in Forks but a shade of pine rather than the dark oak she adored. It held an array of coloured spines, most of the worn with age and use. Her body urged to go and see what collection 'Demetri' held over the years. She wondered how old he was, she'd never heard Carlisle mention him. Was he here when her adoptive father was all those century's ago ?

Her head clouded with questions as she strolled through the rest of the room. She wondered into the open doorway on the opposite side of the room to the sofa and bookcase, eyes glowing with mesmer as she caught sight of the vast array of suits hung in what was obviously this guy's walk-in wardrobe.

She ran her hand over the closest outfit ; a grey rayon challis suit jacket-coat and trouser set with shades of navy, cyan, cobalt and peacock embroidering the waistcoat. The one beside it was slightly more modern ; a midnight black cotton blend blazer and trousers and a matching waistcoat with water coloured burgundy red and burnt orange buttons. Though simple, it was clearly an expensive set. The material was richer than what was in most shops and it was most likely tailor fitted.

She carried on through the suits, not a single set of modern clothes on the hooks. She became more and more astonished at the mixture of rich clothing. Each suit was unique to anything she'd ever seen before.

Every second she was in the room her heart seemed to race with a speed she'd never felt. The scent of lemons and limes overtaking her brain.

Suddenly, there was a heavy knock against the door.

Y/N gave a panicked blink to the entrance from within the closet, rushing with all her speed to the main room in an attempt to not look nosey.

She launched herself on the nearest seat as the door began to open, a squeal leaving her lips as she noticed herself on the bed that had been used with who knows.

Alec walked into the room with a bored expression, it was quickly replaced when he found the new girl falling off of Demetri's bed and onto the half oak floor.

"I see you're making yourself comfortable."

The old English accent that came from the youthful boy brought Y/N's attention back. A bashful smile falling on her as she found him holding a hand out to help her up, his other folded behind his back.

The second twin was slightly taller than his sister, still at least half a foot shorter than herself thought. His cheeks still held their childish rounding even after the hollowing the change brought anyone who went through it.

"Don't worry, the sheets get washed."

She sent Alec an unamused look as she patted her clothed down, fixing her jeans from their crinkled appearance.

"Funny. Won't his mate be annoyed I'm in his room ?"

"Demetri doesn't have a mate."

The answer drew Y/N's brows together, her eyes darting to look back to the bed and then to the taller figure infront of her, a few blinks of question being sent to the clearly more likeable twin.

It only took a smirk and the two words to make her feel like gagging.

"Signor Casanova."

The older boy gave a chuckle in response, his arm from behind his back coming toward her with a black duffle bag, her black duffle bag.

"You left this in the reception area, I assumed you would want to get changed out of those god-awful clothes."

Y/N gave him a gawp at the insult, snatching the bag out of his hands and zooming over to the grey sofa to place it down, unzipping the top and letting out a smile when she noticed the photo and its frame still in tact.

"I'll have you know these jeans are Armani."

"Am I supposed to be impressed ?"

She sent him an eye-roll, placing the photo delicately on the seat, beside her bag, and taking out one of her dresses from the bottom of the bag.

"Anyways, thank you."

"No problem."

She sent an awkward smile back to the brunette as she stood with a relaxed smirk. Y/N assumed that it was just his resting face with how often he wore that exact look in the few minutes she'd seen him.

"Urm, I was going to get changed."

"Oh, right."

Alec gave a curt nod, she assuming that he'd take the que to leave the room. He didn't. The millenniums old pre-teen simply turned his body around to face the curve of the door and wall. She knew that it was the most privacy she was going to get so started removing her dust tainted sweater and jeans, slipping the black cotton-blend dress over her head and fixing it down her body. The clothing had soft tulip sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, clinging to her torso's shape before flowing down loosely towards her mid-calf. She finally slipped her adidas back on over her white, scrunched ankle socks, a mutter to Alec that he could turn back around - which he was more than happy to.

"I was wondering if you wanted the castle and gardens tour ?"

"You really don't have to-"

"It's my job, and Jane's - but she hates you so that's not going to happen."

Y/N just gave a small laugh, pushing herself the sofa with a kind nod.

"That would be lovely then."

"Great. We can leave now if you have nothing else planned ?"

She gave a nod in response, lightly lifting her photo back into  her bag and leaving the duffle open on the chair. She assumed no one was going to use the room whilst she was gone.

Alec started the tour from the room she was staying in, seeing how 'Demetri' was one of the 'most treasured guards' so his room was one of the highest in the castle. Alec followed that sentence with 'my room's just next door' so she wasn't sure if there was a bit of biases in the order of guard appreciation.

"The masters' rooms are on the floor above but you won't need to go there unless summoned."

As he went to carry on down the hall, Alec noticed the figure beside him having disappeared. He was about to curse how he'd managed to loose her with a minute but quickly turned to find the girl staring at one of the framed canvas hung on the brick walls.

"These paintings are magnificent !"

Alec retraced his steps, standing beside the girl with a nod.

"Master Caius created most of them, he's quite talented."

"100 percent."

They carried on through the corridors with comfortable conversation, Y/N honestly not paying attention to where they were. She was definitely going to get lost a few times before she knew where anything was.

"So what's everyone's gifts ? If you're 'the most treasured guards' there's got to be something special about you."

Alec gave a laugh at the quotations she made with her fingers. He simply pointed to his face, the smirk on his lips growing as he gave her a wink.

"Well obviously mine is my outrageous good looks."

"Oh course, what else could it be (?!)"

The duo shared a laugh. They were clearly becoming good friends quickly, a few stray guards sending amused looks to the two as Alec gave an occasion fact about where they strolled.

"I take away senses, Jane caused fire-like pain."

"Ying and Yan then." She received a questioning brow off the younger twin, quickly explaining herself. "You mute someone's senses whilst Jane awakens them ?"

"I guess, I've never thought of that."

"See, I'm not just a pretty face, the brain works too."

"Felix and Demetri are away on a mission at the moment so you'll meet them next week if everything goes to plan. Felix doesn't hold an exact gift but he's very powerful strength wise and Demetri is the strongest tracker in history."

"That's quite a pedestal."

"Trust me, it sucks when you're playing nascondino."

"You play hide and seek ?"

The new arrival held back a snort of laughter, Alec just becoming more exasperated.

"Not anymore ! He won too easily."

They turned a corner, more brick wall directing them as Alec fully forgot he was supposed to be giving a tour.

"What's your gift ? Master Aro mentioned one."

"Well it's two I guess, I have the gifts of charm and persuasion."

Alec just gave her a look which stated he didn't believe her. Y/N rolled her eyes in return, grabbing onto his arm to stop him before fluttering her lashes.

"Inginocchiarsi, per favore." [kneel, please]

Alec suddenly dropped to his suited knees in the hallway, Y/N checking that there were no other guards around them before lifting her illusion with a quick 'grazie'.

A glaze lifted from his eyes as he started looking around, confusion evident as he looked up to the smirking girl holding her hand out to him. He reluctantly took it with a soft scowl sent her way, dusting his knees of the stay dust before he carried on walking. Y/N followed, a bright grin on her lips.

"Okay, I believe you. My time for questions, when did you get turned ?"

"1943."

"Oh so you're a proper baby ?"

"I am not ! You look like you've just left kindergarten. "

"I'm over two thousand, so you are a baby."

"You're just ancient."

"And you're an infant."

They looked at each other with their smirks strong, Y/N rolling her eyes as a que for the next question.

"Where are you from, your Italian is eccellente [excellent]."

"New Jersey."

The answer sent Alec into confusion, she gesturing for him to wait for the answer to the Italian remark.

"My family were Italian immigrants, moved over after the First World War. My father made sure I knew the language perfectly. I barely spoke English until I was with the Cullens."

"That explains it then."

"Si. What about you ?"

"England, Aro rescued me and Jane from being burnt in the witch trials."

"Why would you get burnt before you were turned ?"

Lines decorated between Y/N's brows, Alec just gave a shrug.

"We were twins, back then people thought it was a mark of the devil."

"I think I read about that in history class." The boy gave a nod with a few laughs, Y/N giving him a nudge to the arm and a smile in return. "I did !"

"I'm not disputing it !"

They finally reach the end of one of the corridors, a large brown oak door pausing their path. Alec gave it a light push, Y/N trailing behind him. Her eyes squinted when a sudden burst of light hit them.

"And these are the gardens."

They walked in silence for a while, Y/N getting distracted by the amount of species of plant surrounding them.

As they were walking through the different shades of roses, a soft mew was heard a few meters away. The girl of the duo's starved eyes shot open, darting at the area the sound echoed from. A shuffle of leaves was heard and before Alec could look to the tabby cat strolling the gardens, the girl beside him launched at it.

Alec walked over to her as she drained the animal before him, eyes wide in amusement as the taste melted in Y/N's mouth. It took her a minute for her to drain the body, discarding it in the middle of the rose bush, it was then that her eyes zoned back in to her surroundings. A bashful and bloody look gazing up at the muffled laughs of Alec.

"I'm hungry."

"I've never seen someone drain a cat."

She gave a scowl at the pathetic animal, remembering her feeds in Forks and Denali.

"Stag are much better."

"We feed off humans here."

She paused for a moment, eyes in thought as they shifted to a softer gold than the brown topaz they'd been over the last day. She gave a shrug, if she was going to remain there there was no point arguing their meal choice. Carlisle had gave her the whole 'more humane' peach once she'd turned, but he also thought her gift was inhumane and here they appreciated it.

"Oh yeah ! I'll have to get used to that, I've never had human blood before."

"Did Carlisle turn you then ?"

Y/N practically froze, her mind trying to not run over the vicious scene playing from her point of view. She blinked out of it eventually, Alec having noticed the sudden mood change and also noticing not to bring it up with her. It was clearly not something she wanted to talk about.

"Edward found me mid-change. I was bit by a nomad."

She kept her answer short, quickly trying to change conversation topic.

"Do you have clothes shops near here ? I think I'm a bit underdressed."

She'd took note of the gowns and suits the other guards wore around the corridors and in the throne room, starting to feel bare even in one of the most formal dresses she owned. She clearly hadn't thought anything through when she was packing - then again, she was in a slight rush.

"We have a covern tailoress, Madeline. I can take you to her to get your measurements and she'll drop some dresses off in Demetri's room for you ?"

"That would be fabulous, thank you."

Alec linked her arm this time as he lead her back into the castle, only a few doors past before he gave a singular knock on a white varnished door. Not a millisecond later, a caramel brown haired woman appeared before them, a bright smile on her lips as she greeted them, ushering them into the room.

"Alec, darling ! Lovely to see you again. And who do we have here ?"

She sent a smirk to the young boy, Alec just giving her a smirk in reply at the suggestive tone of the clearly kindhearted woman. If Y/N could blush, she would definatly be beet red.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N, she'll be joining us here. I was hopeing that you would be kind enough to take her measurements."

A smile reached Y/N's lips as she noticed how Alec had introduced her, golden eyes looking down to his crimson ones with a shine in them. She was trying to ditch the prejudices the covern clearly held to her previous family, using her birth surname helped alot.

"Oh course I can ! I always have time for my favourite guard's friends."

Madeline gave a kind smile to the new member of the guard, directing her over to the small metal pedestal in-front of a span of mirrors. A blur of the woman whipped around her with a white tape and within the minute her sizes were jotted into a small notebook on the other side of the room.

"When where you born darling."

Y/N gave a blink as the woman returned with swatches of coloured fabric, eyes looking in the mirror's reflections to Alec as if to ask permission to answer. He gave her a nod in return.

"1924 ?"

"Aw, you're just a baby then. Don't worry, I'll make you the most fabulous dresses my hands can muster."

Madeline gave a toothy smile, directing the girl back to Alec, the boy stood with a humorous smirk at the infant comment.

"Oh you pop children, I'll bring the dresses to your room tomorrow. Will you be wanting a cloak ?"

"Oui, merci Madeline."

Alec answered for her, Y/N turning to him at the language change. She guess she should've picked up on the slight French tilt in the woman's accent.

"Elle est dans Demetri's chambre." [she's in Demetri's room]

Y/N looked between the smirking pair nervously before the woman gave a sharp toned comment.

"Je voids. J'espère qu'il agit monsieur comme." [I see. I hope he is acting gentleman-like]

Alec just gave a frightened nod in reply, Y/N turning to him with confused eyes. She was wondering if she should be running for the hills with how the boy reacted.

"Bien, maintenant laisse-moi travailler. Faites ce que vous faites, les jeunes." [good, now let me work. Go do whatever you do, youths]

Alec quickly turned, linking his arm with Y/N again and dragging her out of the room, not letting her say thanks to the lovely but clearly terrifying woman.

They ended up back in the gardens, Alec wondering further into the foliage with the confused girl on his arm. The sun had lowered slightly compared to the blared light before.

"What did she say ? What did you tell her ?"

"I told her you were staying in Demetri's room... she may have got the wrong idea."

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her right palm coming up to slap the boy's shoulder in horror.

"And you didn't correct her because ?!"

"She scares me !"

Her eyes widened, upper lip turning as she shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"She's scary ! She hit Felix once."

"I guess I'll forgive you then (!)"

The sarcastic reply came sharp, Y/N holding her expression.

"You haven't been on her bad side !"

Her mind was distracted by a rustling nearby, the scent of rabbit filling the younger girl's senses before she took off in the wooded area's direction, a confused Alec hot on her tail. The boy paused his speed when he noticed her launching herself to the grown, a large rabbit in her mouth whilst her hands snapped the necks of the other two animals with practiced ease.

Another bundle of laughs were released from above her as Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, draining each animal before throwing them into a nearby bush.

"What ?"

"I think you've got a hare in your mouth."

The boy's smirk simply grew as he relayed the terrible joke, just earning an eye roll for a reaction.

Chapter Six

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[aussiexlovexaffair]

american!reader meets classmate!luke in the librarywords: 2.2k! request fill: anon ask! tags: strangers to crushes tw: none! author’s note: i have nothing to say except stream mgc 1 and cth 1 <3 listen to: “unpredictable by 5 seconds of summer

Ever since you’ve transferred to a school in Australia, you’ve been a bit discombobulated. Here, the school year starts in late January compared to early September back in America. Your parents, thanks to their spur-of-the-moment decision to move, have thrown you into a college a month late.

Making friends and adjusting to the more difficult coursework has proven to be difficult. By this time of year, most people have already secured a stable friend group with no intention of opening it up to any newcomers. The homework is piling up day by day. But there is something positive about Norwest College— it has free periods.

Every week, to mimic a university’s schedule, a class will have a “free period” in which students can go to their teachers for help or catch up on work for another class. A majority of your peers use it as a time to socialize, but you’ve got too much work to do. As awful as it sounds, you have to utilize your time productively. 

So for your English class’s free period, you decide to head to the library. Upon arrival, it’s no surprise to you that students have already made themselves comfortable at various tables amongst the bookshelves. While many people use their free periods to hang out with their friends on the field or grab a snack from the cafeteria, you can always count on a few dozen students to be in the library. The librarian, a frail woman in her 70’s, purses her lips as you enter the room. Offering her a respectful smile, you begin to greet her, “Hello, Mrs—”

“The computers are only to be used for research purposes. There’s a chart on the side of the first book shelf that explains the Dewey Decimal System.” Her gnarled hands bury themselves with sorting through books that have been recently returned. She shakes her head at one of them, unfurling a dog ear bookmark that someone left behind. “And don’t let me catch you making any unnecessary noise. There’s no talking in here. There are people trying to work.”

It takes everything in you to keep the unwavering smile on your face. “...Thank you, Ma’am.” You nod your head in acknowledgement and advance further into the room. There aren’t many tables that aren’t occupied with your peers. You can’t even look for anyone that you know, as you haven’t had the chance to befriend many of them yet. Your eyes drift over the room until you spot a longer table with only one occupant. 

At the far end of the table is a blond boy with a grey hoodie pulled over his head. His eyes are cast down at an array of papers as he twiddles his blue BIC pen in one hand. His foot taps softly under the desk with every bounce of his leg. Judging by his nerves, the boy wouldn’t outright object to you sitting with him. He just might be a bit awkward. But you don’t have any plans to talk to him— not after the drill sergeant at the front desk gave you a lecture about it. You’re 95% sure she might take a ruler to your hand if you break her rules.

With a sharp inhale, you approach the other end of the table and slide the wooden chair out. The sound of the legs brushing against the carpet causes the boy to glance over out of the corner of his eye. You subtly pick up on him doing a double take, fully turning his head towards you as you sort through your backpack for your notebook. You place the black notebook in front of you and look into your bag for a pen. The blond clears his throat, “Do… you need a pen?” He hesitates to ask the question even after he’s started it, but eventually the words tumble out quietly. He eyes the librarian just in case his volume was too loud.

“Uh.. you don’t have to give me one, I’m sure mine’s in here somewhere.” The skin of your cheeks heats up as he continues to watch you search for one at the bottom of your bag. When your movements hasten in embarrassment, he slides his chair a little closer and holds out his pen. 

“I’ve got another one, you can borrow mine.” His tongue swipes over his slightly-chapped bottom lip. “S’okay, I swear.”

You hesitate for a moment before reaching out to accept it. “Thank you.” He nods, his mouth opening to get another word in before a shrill voice interrupts him.

“No talking!” The librarian leans over her desk and stares daggers into the boy. In shame, the boy brings his attention back to his papers, eyes flickering up to the old woman every now and then.

A frown forms on your lips. The blond, whoever he is, doesn’t deserve to be yelled at for helping someone. The guilt of being the reason behind her actions eats away at you. You tear out a piece of paper from your notebook, careful to be as quiet as possible, and scribble out a note on it.

sorry, i should’ve been quieter when talking to you. i didn’t mean for you to get yelled at. 

Folding it up, you slide the note across the table towards the boy. His concentration breaks from the notes he was studying and he slowly unravels the folded paper. You watch him read it over once and grab another pen from his bag. A hasty message is scrawled under your own words in black ink. After he’s done, he sends the paper your way. It reads:

it’s okay. don’t beat yourself up about it.

A little further down is an addition to the response. 

i’m luke. what’s your name?

You allow your head to turn to the side. He no longer looks at his paper, but stares vacantly at the room around him. Occasionally, he checks over his shoulder to see if you’re writing him a response. When he notices you watching him, he immediately returns to studying. His teeth catch on his lower lip nervously. You uncap your pen once again and write back.

y/n. i’m new. i’m from america.

The paper finds its way back into the blond boy’s hands. He reads silently before doing the same thing back. 

I heard the accent haha          what’s America like?

A small laugh escapes your lips at the question. Your thoughts about your home country are complicated to say the least. You return the note to him.

there are good and bad things about it. there’s a lot of diversity there, so i guess that’s cool. I don’t really know what to tell you

The corners of his lips curl up and he hesitates before writing out another sentence.

your president’s an orange asshole

Reading the words has you stifling out a laugh. You know that other countries have various thoughts on America and its political climate, but Luke’s wording is amusing. You hold in the giggles and respond.

you’ve got no idea. our vice president’s got a mean cat eye going on though

Luke’s head tilts at the words “cat eye.” He doesn’t have any sisters of his own to tell him about these terms, but he’s got enough common sense to work out what it might mean. He writes back quickly. 

i like your laugh

His hands pause before he sends the paper back to you. He awaits your response with baited breath. Based on that, you assume he doesn’t have the most experience with girls. You soothe his nerves when you grin at the comment. The blond eagerly accepts the paper back when you’re done with it.

thanks xxx you’ve got pretty eyes. and cool bracelets

His pale cheeks glow a rosy hue. He’s used to his mom and grandma calling him handsome or dashing or whatever mortifying compliment they can muster up. He isn't used to being called "pretty." Luke isn’t used to it coming from a cute girl, either. He slides the paper over to you.

thank you !! and also thank you for noticing my bracelets ! not a lot of people compliment them here

You lift your gaze from the note and frown at the end of his sentence. In Australia, you know it isn’t the most common to be goth, emo, scene, alt, or really anything that isn’t “normal.” You quickly write a reply and give the note back.

no way ˙◠˙ they’re so cool!!

You can practically see him light up at the compliment. Luke thinks quietly, eyes trained on your handwriting. His right leg bounces absentmindedly until he scribbles out another note and passes it. 

what locker number are you?

Your eyes narrow at the words, the dot of the question mark bleeding through the other side. You answer his question moments later. 

271

With the note in one hand, he uses his dominant one to jot down the number in the corners of his notes. Before he can return the note to you with another sentence written on it, the bell rings. Science class is just minutes away and you haven’t got your textbook with you. Shit. Jolting out of your seat, you stuff your things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder. You take advantage of the scuffling of shoes and sliding of chairs to speak, “I’m so sorry, I’ve got bio and I don’t have my books. I have to go.”

He nods his head, mouth agape as he watches you quietly. His brain catches up to the present and he eventually brings himself to talk. “Yeah— yeah, no. Of course. Uhm… see ya around. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He brushes a stray strand of hair away from his eyes and dips his head back down to his notes reluctantly once you head towards the exit of the library.

After a few more hours, the school day comes to a close and you make your way to your locker. Something in the vent of the metal door catches your eye. Stepping closer with a confused squint, you bring your hand to the object jammed into the slit. A metal studded bracelet hangs out of your locker with a note to the right of it. You unfold the notepaper and immediately recognize the handwriting. 

i hope this doesn’t come across as weird, but i think you’re really pretty and i was wondering if you’d like to hang out some time?

☐ yes ☐ no

p.s: you can keep the bracelet no matter what :)p.p.s: i heard people talking about a bio test, so i hope you did well on it 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke’s lanky figure hunched over as he empties his backpack and puts his belongings into his locker. You remove the same pen he loaned you from your bag and quickly mark the “yes” box on the note. Underneath his two side notes, you jot down your phone number as well. Folding it up again, you shut the door of your locker and click the lock closed. You cross the hallway silently— bracelet, note, and pen in hand. 

Tapping him on the shoulder, you hold up the pen. “Thought you’d like this back.”

He eyes you up and down slowly before palming it and placing it in his pencil case. “You didn’t really need to give it ba—”

“And this.” You cut him off and raise the note to his line of vision. The boy swallows and lets out a breathless huff.

“Did you get the bracelet? I figured that guys usually give girls something when they…” Luke’s breath hitches nervously. “..when they like a girl.” Your smile comforts him slightly. At least he isn’t making a total fool out of himself if this is the reaction he’s getting.

“I did.” Your head tilts to the side softly. “It was very sweet of you, Luke.” He blushes and focuses back on his locker, shutting it softly and locking it up. “And to answer your question— yes, I would love to hang out with you some time.”

His hand rests against the cold metal for a moment as his brain processes your words. Pulling his bag over his shoulder, he shifts his weight between his feet. “Oh!.. Uhm, okay, cool!... Yeah, I know of a pretty neat skatepark if that’s your thing. Or we can just go to the park if you don’t wanna do that. Whichever you wanna do, I’m down for anything.”

With a little giggle, you urge him to take the note. The blond accepts it and unfolds it, eyes scanning the paper. He notices the number you’ve given him at the bottom and his lips part in shock. “The skatepark sounds awesome, Luke. You just let me know when you’re free, ‘kay?” You step to the side and begin to walk away towards the doors. 

You call out to him over your shoulder with a knowing grin, “Text me!”

Swallowing his nerves, Luke nods eagerly and smiles, following your form with his gaze. “Yeah— yeah! I’ll text you!” Looking back down at the number at the bottom, he notices the small heart you’ve drawn at the end of it. 

Luke has never been so quick to save a contact in his life.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

GHOST spies ultra-hot Jupiter with ultra-fast winds

In the hunt for exoplanets, many seek out habitable worlds. There's comfort in discovering planets that remind us of home—ones at a perfect distance from their host star, with oceans of water covering their surfaces and breathable atmospheres.

Some astrophysicists, however, are curious about an entirely different type of exoplanet: the treacherous hot Jupiter. One such scientist is Emily Deibert, a science fellow at Gemini South in Chile, one half of the International Gemini Observatory, operated by NSF NOIRLab.

An ultra-hot Jupiter named HAT-P-70 b was the focus of a recent study conducted at Gemini South, led by Adam Langeveld, assistant research scientist at Johns Hopkins University, with a team of astronomers including Deibert.

The results of this study are presented in a paper appearing in The Astrophysical Journal Letters.

The team's investigation utilized a new instrument on the Gemini South telescope called the Gemini High-resolution Optical SpecTrograph (GHOST). GHOST is a powerful instrument that has the ability to observe a wide range of wavelengths simultaneously.

It can also complete observations with high efficiency while achieving world-class resolution. These capabilities allowed the team to peer deep into HAT-P-70 b's atmosphere where they discovered winds blowing at incredible speeds.

Hot Jupiters are gas giants that are similar to our Jupiter in size, but that differ greatly in temperament. They sit much closer to their host stars than our planetary neighbor does, giving them notably different physical properties.

To illustrate their distances, it takes our Jupiter almost 12 years to orbit the sun, while hot Jupiters take 10 days or less. Some have even been observed whipping around their suns in less than a day.

Orbiting at such a close distance gives these planets incredibly high surface temperatures, hence their name. They are oftentimes tidally locked, meaning they have one side constantly facing their star experiencing an extremely hot "day" and one side constantly facing away experiencing a colder "night."

HAT-P-70 b is a very "puffy" planet with a radius almost double that of Jupiter. It sits so close to its host star that its orbit is 2.7 Earth days and it has a temperature of about 2,300° Celsius (around 4,200° Fahrenheit), making it one of the hottest planets known to date. The extreme temperatures give this ultra-hot Jupiter an exotic atmosphere with a diverse array of gaseous metallic atoms and ions.

"These ultra-hot atmospheres are ideal laboratories to study exoplanets on a wider scale due to the fantastic opportunity to detect and study multiple chemical species," Langeveld explains. "By measuring the amounts of different elements—especially comparing 'rocky' elements like calcium and iron to 'icy' elements like water and carbon—we can learn about how they formed and evolved."

To study HAT-P-70 b's atmosphere, the team observed the planet transit, or pass in front of, its host star. As the star's light passes through the planet's atmosphere, the chemicals within the atmosphere act like a filter that absorbs specific wavelengths of light.

Using spectroscopy—a method of observation where an object's light is spread out into a spectrum—the team can determine which chemicals exist in the atmosphere by identifying the fingerprint-like patterns of absorption lines that appear in the spectrum.

In HAT-P-70 b's atmosphere, the team detected signatures of ionized calcium—a gaseous and highly energetic form of calcium that can only exist in environments of incredibly intense heat.

They found that the calcium signal extends tens of thousands of kilometers into the upper atmosphere. But more importantly, GHOST's incredible sensitivity allowed them to "time-resolve" the calcium signal. This means they could track how calcium absorption changes from the planet's day to night side.

Deibert shares her experience probing HAT-P-70 b's atmosphere: "We were surprised by the exceptional sensitivity of GHOST, which allowed us to measure minute variations in the individual absorption lines from the ionized calcium, thereby providing information about different regions of the atmosphere. This level of detail has traditionally been difficult to achieve in exoplanet studies, especially for individual absorption lines in transmission spectra."

From these observations, the team determined that HAT-P-70 b hosts powerful winds that rush from the scorching dayside to the cooler nightside at speeds of up to 18,000 kilometers per hour (11,000 miles per hour). They also used the detected signals to infer the planet's mass, revealing that it is likely much lighter than previously thought—a crucial parameter for future comparisons of ultra-hot Jupiter atmospheres.

"This level of detail is only possible with the most advanced spectrographs," says Langeveld, "making GHOST one of the few instruments in the world capable of such measurements."

Deibert adds, "This study showcases that GHOST has the potential to make major contributions towards advancing our understanding of the 3D nature of exoplanet atmospheres, for which there are still many big unanswered questions."

The time-resolving power of GHOST will continue to push the boundaries of exoplanet studies. In fact, Gemini is changing the game for astronomers like Deibert and Langeveld who are looking to gather spectroscopic data, as well as optical and infrared information through its Large and Long Programs.

Langeveld and Deibert's work is part of an approved Large program that they are co-leading, meaning they and their collaborators have secured observing time with Gemini for multi-year research projects in planetary studies.

Gemini's Large programs will promote collaborations and provide significant impact in all areas of astrophysics, paving the way for the future of the field.

IMAGE: Test spectra viewed through the red camera on the GHOST optical bench while John Pazder (National Research Council of Canada (NRC)) performs the final alignment of spectrograph optics. Credit: NOIRLab/NSF/AURA/J. Bassett

[transmutationisms]

Wrt the addiction discussion, is there not a lot of overlap between the types of people you describe (e.g. people with a physical dependency, 12-steppers, people who are unhappy with their substance use, etc)? I feel like it's a mistake to treat them as universally discrete categories, even accounting for the wide range of experiences and attitudes 'addiction' encompasses. Yes the term is heavily medicalised and used to justify punitive interventions (which shouldn't happen, obviously), but couldn't the same be said of, say, queer identities given how homosexuality was listed in the DSM until fairly recently? It's not morally wrong to identify as queer just because the category itself is rooted in oppression. The term spans such a broad array of possible identities, preferences and behaviours, but a lot of people still find it useful for solidarity-building, and I think something is lost when we eschew these fluid, broad-spectrum terms in favour of finely atomised individual behaviours.

where did i say i was interested in making new discrete categories out of the addiction label? nowhere because i explicitly am not interested in makingn categories at all. reread the post.

there is no 'addicts pride' or 'pro addiction' movement comparable to the lgbt scene, which should tell you some things about quite differently weighted use of these medical terms. incidentally, many people do in fact perceive some difference between eg homosexual and gay precisely because of the former's medical and criminal history.

the term addiction is not used for "solidarity-building" please like don't make me laugh. once again it is not only "rooted in" but currently used for pathologising efforts born of theories of social degeneration. when someone says video games are addictive sugar is addictive the internet is addictive -- these are active current new claims about the supposedly deleterious social effects of technologies and practices the speaker perceives as insalubrious and threatening to the social order, specifically relying on medico-legal notions of the Addict to make these claims.

your comparison sucks anyway because there is in fact broad agreement on what eg gay means, what practices and forms of social violence it refers to: there is no such agreement as regards addiction, not in the medical discourse and not in popular use either. reread the post.

id really invite people to think about why you are so incredibly instantly defensive over this particular piece of terminology. what do you think is at stake here? it's not useful shorthand, it's not attached to meaningful political activist groups, and it's in constant semantic shift in order to make claims about new groups and activities being socially degenerate and destabilising. in order to convey anything useful or specific about how you use substances, when, or why, you are in fact already relying on actually explaining yourself beyond this term (so is your medical chart).

the umbrella term i believe you're actually grasping for here, & it's frankly embarrassing you're apparently so far removed from harm reduction activism that you don't know this & yet are sending paragraphs whinging to my inbox, is "people who use drugs." i personally think person-first is slightly corny and usually just say "drug users" or "recreational drug users" as the case may be but i have no serious objection to the former as an umbrella term.

[blueiscoool]

Rare 4th Century Roman Helmet and Chainmail Found in Denmark

Archaeologists have recently unearthed a massive stockpile of weapons near Hedensted, Denmark, buried 1,500 years ago by an ancient chief. In addition to many weapons and unique chainmail, fragments of a Roman helmet from the 4th century have also been found.

During recent archaeological excavations at Løsning Søndermark in Hedensted, Denmark, a significant discovery has been made that sheds light on the region’s Iron Age history, dating back 1,500 to 2,000 years. Archaeologists unearthed a burial site containing an extensive array of weapons, sufficient to equip a small army, alongside a remarkable chainmail shirt and other valuable artifacts. This find suggests that the site belonged to a powerful chieftain, and the manner of the burial indicates that these war implements may have been offered to higher powers.

The excavation was prompted by the Danish Road Directorate’s ongoing project to expand the motorway to three lanes, leading to the unearthing of these extraordinary artifacts just northwest of Hedensted, situated between Vejle and Horsens.

Some of the half-buried weapons found in Løsning

In addition to the extensive weapon deposits, archaeologists have discovered two unusual iron plates, each approximately the size of a human palm. Initially, the origins of these plates were uncertain. However, through the application of X-ray imaging technology, conservators and archaeologists were able to penetrate the thick layers of rust that obscured the objects.

The imaging results revealed an extraordinary and rare discovery: the remnants of a Roman helmet. The two plates identified consist of a neck guard and a intricately decorated cheek guard, which are components of a crest helmet—a type commonly utilized during the 4th century within the Roman Empire.

The illustrations show the placement of the neck and cheek guard on a Roman helmet. The top of the helmet has not been found, so its appearance remains purely speculative

Finds of Roman helmets from the Iron Age are exceptionally uncommon in southern Scandinavia, and this particular discovery lacks direct parallels within the region. The few comparable artifacts have been located at Thorsbjerg Moor in Schleswig, as well as in southern Sweden and Gotland, with no similar finds recorded in Denmark itself.

An X-ray scan shows the fragments of an ancient Roman helmet found in Løsning

In addition, a chainmail shirt was discovered at Løsning Søndermark. Only a very small number of chainmail shirts from the Iron Age have been found in the southern Scandinavian region. Notably, the chainmail unearthed at Løsning Søndermark is particularly remarkable as it is the first instance found in association with a settlement, rather than being recovered from a burial site or bog.

The production of chainmail required specialized expertise, access to resources, and a considerable, sustained effort. Consequently, these expensive pieces of armor were owned exclusively by the highest echelons of the warrior elite in society, underscoring their status and importance.

The ancient chainmail shirt found in Løsning

In addition to the extensive weapon sacrifice, archaeologists have uncovered fragments of two highly distinctive bronze neck rings at the Løsning Søndermark site. These rings exhibit striking similarities to imagery found on gold bracteates from the Vindelev Hoard, as well as other representations of Iron Age rulers.

The motif of a ring-bearer holding an oath ring in one hand, symbolizing power and influence, is a well-established theme in Nordic imitations of Roman gold medallions and gold bracteates. It is likely that the rings discovered at Løsning Søndermark served a similar function and may have been integral to the chieftain’s personal equipment, alongside the chainmail, sword, horse gear, and other military items that were part of the sacrificial offerings.

Two ring fragments found in Løsning

Notably, the ring-bearer depicted on the Vindelev bracteates is also adorned in a garment featuring an unusual pattern, which may represent chainmail akin to that found at Løsning Søndermark.

Starting Saturday, February 8, 2025, selected items from this remarkable find, including fragments of a Roman helmet, will be exhibited at the Cultural Museum in Vejle, providing the public with an opportunity to engage with Denmark’s rich archaeological heritage.

By Oguz Buyukyildirim.

Some of the swords and other weapons found in Denmark

[lostdaffodils]

Literally losing my mind over how Adventure Time writes characters and their relationships. Which, like, no shit, but I’m especially stuck on how the way a character is portrayed and viewed by the audience is entirely dependent on their relationship with whoever the focal point of that episode is (typically Finn).

One of my favorite examples of this is Jake versus Martin. We, the audience (for the most part), love Jake and hate Martin. Jake is a cool wise older brother that loves food, Martin is a conniving selfish bastard. What’s crazy is that they’re deeply comparable. Both are reformed criminals that started a family, only to neglect that family and (more often than not) deny their children’s desire for parental affection. In fact, Martin is arguably better than Jake, as he only acts that way towards Finn in the (relative) present due to his repeated head trauma and heavily implied amnesia. In Islands, it’s made clear that Martin is willing to risk everything, including his life, for his son. The only thing that made this change is the injury he sustained fighting the Island Guardian (as was shown in the original promo art for Min and Marty) (There is something so devastating about how protecting Finn made him a worse father oh my goddddd). Jake doesn’t have any excuse, he’s just that way. Not that I am a Jake hater! I love him, but he’s very flawed, as all the characters are.

The reason we rarely consider this is because everything is filtered through Finn. To Finn, Jake is more than everything he needs to be. He’s his best friend, his brother, and his mentor. Whenever he’s in trouble, Jake is there. Martin, on the other hand, made fun of him, manipulated him, and ripped his arm off without second thought. It makes perfect sense that we’d like Jake and loathe Martin.

Another example I like is Princess Bubblegum. She’s an unethical ruler, to say the least. She’s not the worst in the show, but she’s not without (a large amount of) flaws. To Finn, though, she’s (typically) a kind person, so this is how we see her. If Adventure Time were from, say, Lemongrab’s perspective (and I’m soooooo glad it isn’t I hate that stupid lemon), her role in the narrative would be far more comparable to a character like Victor Frankenstein’s.

I actually adore how the writers use point of view in this way because I feel like it’s so rare for narratives to acknowledge it at all? In reality, it’s true that individual relationships with people can vary wildly. Everything is dependent on the context and circumstances under which you know someone, and how they respond to a near-infinite array of factors. Someone could, objectively, be a saintly presence in one person’s life and a major nuisance in another’s. Things aren’t as black and white as good or bad, and the degree to which perceived goodness or badness is dependent on individual relationships (and, honestly, complete chance) is literally mind-blowing. I think in fiction, characters are often written as broadly good or bad. Adventure Time doesn’t really do that, unless the characters are incredibly minor, and it’s one of my favorite things about it.

There’s something oddly comforting in it, I think.

[petalruesimblr]

Organic Fresh Delights Grocery

Sim File Share

Welcome to Organic Fresh Delights, your one-stop destination for all things fresh and organic! We're committed to providing the highest quality organic goods sourced directly from our local farmers and fisherman offering a vibrant selection of vegetables, fruits, premium cuts of meat and fish. We also have an array of products ranging from lush plants to food, drinks and essential household items. Step into our store and immerse yourself in a world of freshness, flavor, and sustainability.

Price: 72,780 Lot Size: 25x25 Lot Type: Visitors Allowed Store Content: Click here CC Used: Click here File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Late Night (floor), Pets (buydebug object), Ambitions, World Adventures (food register, gate from ATS3)

Hi everyone! I was going to share one of my older builds from years ago but I found out that most of the objects I used for that lot were in sim3pack format and most of the CCs I transferred over to my current setup have been converted to package files, which messed up the appearance of the lot. So, I've recreated it this time and I'm sharing a new grocery lot: the Organic Fresh Delights Grocery!

Click on the ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures on this lot.

For the rabbit hole, I placed it in an empty stockroom/office and have also locked the fire escape door and fence at the back of the lot so that sims can only enter the door inside the building. This was the only option that worked during playtesting so that sims can enter in and out of the rabbit hole inside the room only. If you want to open those doors though, you can do it by editing the lot and click CTRL + Shift + Right Click to choose the unlock option. Due to the lack of windows on the first floor, I have placed a lot of buydebug lights and it may be too bright during the night so you can adjust it by enabling “testingcheatsenabled true” and “buydebug on” after. 📣This lot is a bit CC-heavy, as I have used more cc compared to game objects and these are not included on the download file. I’ve compiled a list for those interested in downloading them separately (please click the links above or go to WCIF Navigation page). The Late Night and World Adventures expansion pack is required due to the build items used in the lot but I'm not sure about buydebug items so Pets may be required as well. 📣There are two CCs that I was unable to locate the original link namely: mtk_signdoors and Public Signs - CAStable both from Macthekat. I tried the direct links and it doesn't work anymore so I had to check using the Wayback Machine site and was able to find her Terms of Use from the old site, Pink Rabbit that states "All our products is shear-friendly - just make sure to give proper credit. You may include my work in sims packages if you want to" and "You may include my stuff into almost anything – it would be nice if you mention my name, but I can live without it. You may share my stuff." With those terms, I have re-uploaded them to sfs and if there is an updated TOU from the creator (or if you are Macthekat) that states otherwise please do let me know and I will take the links down. 📣If you want a functional grocery store in your gameplay, you can use Ani's Sell From Inventory mod. I have used a few storage or chest-like CCs and a food register from ATS3 that you can use. If you prefer Ani’s Savvier Seller instead, you may have to replace most of the items and use ATS3 Savvy's Seller Collection set instead. You can also check out Mookymilksims guide and tutorial video for realistic function shops using Savvier Seller mod. It is very easy to follow and has detailed instructions to help you out to make it work! Let me know if you experience any problems on your end.

[asratery]

Miguel O’Hara x Spider-Man!Male Reader

You were a member of the spider society, rising quickly to be part of the small circle of Miguel’s most valued members due to your agility and strength even with your strong, tall stature. You and Miguel had a complicated relationship. At least on his end. The man was curious about your quiet nature and selfless behavior. You were a man of few words, being both a Spider-Man as well as hosting a symbiote from your world. You had a dedication to the cause that could compare with Miguel, even placing it over your physical health. Today, Miguel’s carelessness as well as your lack of self care would hit you like a truck.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

cw: masturbation (male), hand obsession, size diff (mentioned), sexual tension (?), sexual implications, use of y/n

Please give criticism 🙏 this is my first time writing as a whole so I’m so sorry if the format is weird and/or if the summary is ass. ALSO THIS IS REALLY LONG (imo) SO I APOLOGIZE. 😭 And pls tell me if i should make a part two. (edit: okay, i calculated and its 5.2K words lmao... my bad)

You don’t remember the last time you visited HQ or even your own dimension. You’d been traveling to various earths and hunting down located anomalies per Miguel’s order.

Your physical conditions were never a worry to you while on your expeditions, simply stitching up whatever injuries you endured before carrying on. Miguel would protest to this behavior of yours, requesting that you return back to HQ for proper medical attention, but you’d quickly dismiss his precautions, having Venom keep your injuries wrapped under it’s tar-like material to avoid bursting any stitches when you were busy tackling your objectives.

You rarely fully involved Venom in your missions. It never objected to your request to remain tucked away while you worked, understanding that you preferred to rely on your own strength to take down opponents.

Miguel sent you on a new array of missions about two weeks ago. They were rather easy for someone of your skill, though it did get annoying when one enemy turned into two, then three, and so on in just one mission. These hiccups never stunted your performance, but they didn’t fail to stress Miguel out. You didn’t fully understand why the man was so anxious whenever you’d go on your missions. He never showed the same worry for the other members of the Spider Society, so what was so different about you?

Miguel had been spending most of his days in his office since you left, his earpiece being filled with the sounds of battle as you took down anomalies on the other end. You preferred not to speak, but with Miguel’s insistence, you were forced to make some noise for him every so often to ease his nerves, whether it be a grunt or a hum. Depending on your mood, some days you’d find it to be overbearing and on better ones, you’d find it to be almost comforting.

‘What is wrong with me.’ Miguel thought to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d been sitting in his office chair, clicking around on his keyboard as he watched your marker on the map traveling miles in minutes as you moved around a random Earth, searching for a rumored anomaly. Everything had been going well until he’d heard you breathing heavily on the other end as you stopped to rest for a moment, you raspy pants tickling his ear. He’d immediately dismissed Lyla as he felt his pants tighten at the noises you made, resting his hand over the forming tent in his suit. Fuck, he had to hear your voice. He needed to.

“Y/n? You alright?” Miguel spoke through the earpiece, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. Y/n didn’t reply with words, opting to hum in acknowledgement. No, that wasn’t enough for Miguel. “Y/n?” Y/n groaned in annoyance at his insistence, but the noise was like heaven in Miguel’s ear. Much more than what he was requesting. “I’m fine.” Y/n replied curtly before continuing his search, his stationary marker starting to move on the map again.

Miguel’s mind was already wandering when he heard y/n groan, but hearing your voice after radio silence for days? He already had a fantasy forming in his head now. There were too many days where you’d hover over him as he briefed you on an upcoming mission, his mind muddled with ideas of you bending him over the table, ripping his suit open and just fucking him over the surface. “Y/n.” Miguel unintentionally groaned out as he pulled his pants down just enough to release his cock from its confines.

“Hm?” Y/n responded in an undertone, oblivious to the intentions behind Miguel’s voice. Miguel pressed a hand over his mouth. He didn’t mean to call your name aloud. “Y-You’re approaching the signal.” Miguel spoke quickly, his heart fluttering at his slip up. You hummed in acknowledgment, a bit confused on why he had to announce it since he equipped your wristwatch with a mini map, but you dismissed it. Miguel quickly muted his mic on the earpiece to avoid making the same mistake. He looked down at his semi, the cool air making it all the more sensitive.

He dipped one of his hands down, sliding his thumb over the slit of his cock as the other turned the volume up on his earpiece, listening to your heavy breathing as you swung through an abandoned city. “Fuck, please.” Miguel murmured under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he slid his hand down his length, imagining your larger, calloused hands in its place.

He had to lower the volume of his earpiece to near silence, the sound of the wind hitting your side of the mic disrupting his thoughts. Miguel lightly gripped his cock, sliding his hand back up to the tip, a bead of pre forming at the motion. Gods, he needed to just tell you, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. You were nearly ten years younger than him, being only 23 years old compared to his 30 years of age. You wouldn’t want someone as old as him, much less a man. You probably had women clinging to your arms in your world, and the thought evoked a flare of jealousy in his chest.

Fuck, what would you think of him if you saw him like this? Thrusting into his hand at just the sound of your voice and faraway fantasies.

You’d been making rounds around this damned city. The place was desolate but somehow a fellow spider managed to spot an anomaly when they accidentally entered in the wrong number in an attempt to portal to their own world. Your wristwatch was picking up on a thermal presence, yet you just couldn’t find it. ‘I swear, if it’s underground, I’m dragging Miguel here to take care of this, multiverse be damned.’ You thought to yourself as you swung between rusting skyscrapers.

Your thoughts were cut off by your watch beeping, detecting a thermal signal in close range. That’s weird. You’d already scoured this area. It must’ve moved in the time that you were on the other side of the city. Your eyes were focused on the watch too closely to notice another presence approaching your side. Another anomaly. Wonderful.

Your senses kicked off but it wasn’t as quick as this creature. You were already airborne before you were launched through the window of a skyscraper you were passing, a rib cracking under the pressure your left side endured. ‘Light work.’ You thought to yourself as you kicked up off the floor of the office level you landed in, planting your feet down before launching out the side you were thrown into. You swung your way up to the roof of the high rise, your eyes scanning the surrounding area for the anomaly.

A figure darted across the street below, prompting you to jump off. You never voiced it, but you always loved the adrenaline rush that came with hunting down anomalies. You were a bit surprised at the lack of noise on Miguel’s side of the earpiece, but the thought was quickly brushed aside as you broke your fall with your webs before running into the building the figure was seen entering, your watch leading the way. You ran down multiple sets of stairs, the rapping of the creatures claws along the tiled floor guiding you along.

You shot a web at the side of the creature from the top of the stairway before it could round a corner. You yanked it towards you, disregarding the fact that your feet lost contact with the floor as the two of you met in the middle, tumbling down the stairwell with your bulky arms wrapped around the damned thing. You were able to land a few punches against the hybrid’s feathered body before you were forced to focus on its talons sinking into the muscles of your thigh. You hissed in pain, forming claws on your own hands with Venom’s help before gripping its ankle with one hand and stabbing your claws into the scaled skin above it.

The fucking thing screeched and gods was it loud, nearly forcing Venom to recede back into you before it used its other clawed foot to hit your chest, slamming your back into the stairwell. You gritted your teeth in pain, a drip of blood dripping down your mask from the cut on your brow due to the previous fall. The creature rounded the corner immediately, disappearing from your sight. ‘Of course it’s smart.’ You thought to yourself begrudgingly, your muscles a bit tense from the mission you just pursued prior to entering this world. “Miguel.” You spoke into your mic. No response. No time to wait.

You quickly got to your feet before darting around the corner, suddenly realizing the setting. Of course it lured you to a fucking subway. You were quick on your feet, jumping down to the railway platform before darting down the tunnel, your sharp ears picking up on the sound of the creature’s claws scratching against the metal of the railing as it ran from you. You’d ran so far that you made it to another underground subway stop, spotting a new creature lingering in the area.

‘Here’s the second fucker.’ You thought to yourself as Venom reformed claws around your fingers. You jumped from the railway up to the tiled floor of the platform. The creature spotted you, quickly leaping at you as you returned the gesture. You noted the difference in strength in this one compared to the first anomaly you came across, easily overpowering this one. Just when you were about to sink your claws into its neck, you were launched off to the side, slamming into a solid wall behind you. Another rib cracked at the impact. Wonderful.

The first bastard was back. The two creatures stood side by side as you used the wall as support to rise to your feet. The two freaks of nature stalked around you before launching forward.

“Venom.” You growled out. It didn’t hesitate, enveloping your body in its black tar-like body. You immediately threw the stronger one back, sending it over the platform and onto the railway as you focused your attention on the weaker anomaly.

You were able to land a multitude of hits on this one, weakening it. Just when you were about to stab your claws into its chest, the stronger one recuperated, releasing a deafening scream that incapacitated you, forcing Venom to recede back inside you. The ground shook from the scream, the beams at the subway shaking as dust fell from the ceiling.

‘Fuck, I need to focus on that one or this rusty building is going down on all three of us.’

You were alone now, the scream forcing Venom to retreat. You made circles with the creature, the weaker of the two still recovering on the floor. You made the first move, webbing the feet of the anomaly to the floor before landing a kick straight in its chest.

The creature slammed against another beam. Fuck. Bad move. The ceiling shook again, an unsettling sound of creaking above them. The building was going to collapse at this rate. You needed to keep these two down here while getting back to ground level so you wouldn’t get stuck or worse, killed under the rubble.

“Miguel.” Silence. What the fuck was he doing right now? Just when you were about to approach the now weakened anomaly, you felt the muscle in your thigh tense. You dropped one knee, accidentally slamming it against the tiled floor. You gritted your teeth, the muscle cramping from overworking yourself. Miguel had warned you, and now you were experiencing the outcome. In the midst of Venom attempting to reform around you, you were tackled from behind. The second one was back up.

You swung your now clawed fingers back, moving to plunge your hand into the chest of this anomaly. You were cut short as the other let out another ear-piercing screech, forcing Venom to retreat yet again. The entire bottom level shook now. ‘This building’s going down.’ You thought to yourself. “Miguel,” you shouted into the earpiece, “I need backup, I’m under the apartment buildi—,” your words were cut short as the infrastructure gave out, sending you into darkness.

Miguel was in the midst of cleaning himself up when he heard the low sound of a rumble on the other side of his earpiece. He immediately raised the volume on his earpiece. ‘Shit, shit shit,’ he though to himself, ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’ “Y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel quickly spoke into the mic, turning Lyla back on. Lyla’s hologram reappeared, about to crack a joke before noticing Miguel’s panicked expression as he looked at his monitors, rapidly typing on the keyboard. “Shit—Lyla, call Jess and Hobie to HQ now,” he said quickly before shouting into the earpiece, “Y/n, give me a status update!” Silence. A deadly silence that was interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of a weak wheeze. Y/n.

“Fuck, y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel spoke quickly into his earpiece as he connected the audio to a walkie-talkie. Jessica entered Miguel’s office, Hobie following a few feet behind her. You couldn’t get a word out, a piece of rubble pressing against your torso, cutting your breaths short. Another weak wheeze, this time coming from the walkie. Jessica froze at the noise before quickly swinging up to Miguel’s platform. “Who is that? Is that—Don’t tell me that’s y/n.” She said quickly. Hobie was already analyzing the holographic map on Miguel’s desk, typing the coordinates for your marker into his wristwatch before creating a portal. “Let’s go.”

You let out another weak wheeze, groaning in pain when the rubble shifted. Your right ankle was stinging, likely sprained, and your knee cap fractured from it hitting the tiled floor prior to the collapse. Your side felt wet and the rebar poking out of a chunk of concrete next to you easily explained why. The screech from the anomaly must’ve ruptured an eardrum, since you could feel the ticklish trickle of blood leaking out of your ear. Your earpiece was knocked out, hidden somewhere in the rubble that pinned you down as you heard the distant sound of Miguel’s panicked voice coming from it. ‘Wonderful timing, boss.’ You thought to yourself as you let out a pained coughed, your throat coated in dust. Your vision started to fade in the midst of you trying to count how many fractures your ribs incurred.

The trio wasn't enough to get you out of the rubble, having to call over a dozen other spider people to aid in the search for you. The only thing keeping Miguel’s hopes up was the presence of a pulse that your wristwatch was picking up, Lyla closely monitoring it for any changes as per Miguel’s orders. He could feel his heart cracking at the edges at the sight of a few spider people gently pulling your unconscious body from under the rubble. They immediately applied pressure to your side due to a large gash from a piece of rebar as Miguel quickly opened a portal back to HQ, rushing you to the medical wing of the building.

Your eyes were hazy when you opened them, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright hospital lights, though the dizziness stayed. You reached a hand up to the nasal cannula, taking note of the tug from the IV in your arm. An IV. A cannula. Bright lights. You hated hospitals with a passion. You shot up in the bed, your body wracked with pain from both a terrible concussion as well as the broken ribs. Strong hands firmly gripped your shoulders, gently guiding you to lay back down on the bed as a soothing voice murmured to you, though you couldn't make out the words. You complied, reluctantly, though majorly because you didn't have the strength to protest.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on a breathing technique to try and ease some of the pain from your array of broken and fractured ribs, though the pain was still agonizing even when you inhaled. Thank god for your pain tolerance, or this could be a lot more unbearable than it already is. You could faintly hear Miguel's unintelligible voice, but he kept a low tone to accomodate your ruptured eardrum. You felt soft fingers stroking the top of your left hand. Jess. She was on your left, Miguel on your right. You could feel a weight on your left leg. Pavitr. Gods, the boy looked up to you like you were an older brother to him. You couldn't imagine how stressed he must be to see you in this state.

You opened your eyes again after about ten minutes, slowly blinking as you let your eyes adjust to the harsh lighting above you. After you finally gained a good enough level of clarity, your sharp eyes began darting around the room, grabbing every little detail you could pick up without tilting your concussed head. You made eye contact with Jessica, who was tracing soft patterns into your forearm as she looked at you, a soft look in her eyes. She was like an older sister to you in a way, and even though you never acknowledged this, she knew.

Your eyes shifted over to Pavitr, who was sat in a chair closer to the end of the bed, practically hugging the lower half of your left leg. You had a brace around your right ankle and could feel the tight gauze wrapped around your thigh, hidden under the blankets. Your abdomen felt very snug, being tightly wrapped in gauze as well due to what you assumed was that wet feeling on your side from when you were under the rubble. The cut on your brow had a stitch and your lip was busted.

You could feel the tickle of Miguels breath against your upper arm, but you never looked over at him. His left hand was gripping your thick tricep like a lifeline while his right remained intertwined with yours. You refused to look at the man, and rightfully so. Had he been paying attention instead of getting distracted by god knows what, you wouldn't be in this uncomfortable situation. "Summary?" You asked Jessica in a raspy voice, your eyes were half-lidded as they focused on Pavitr's sleeping figure.

Miguel answered for Jessica. It ticked you off. You didn't want to hear his voice right now. "Sprained ankle, laceration in your right side, two fractured ribs, three broken, grade three concussion, gash in your right thigh, fractured knee cap, and a few cuts and bruises," Miguel replied quickly, "your lung collapsed, so you had a chest tube in but it was removed yesterday morning." You had a question on the tip of your tongue, but you knew Miguel would answer it before Jess could. "You've been out for six days." Miguel murmured, unknowingly answering said question. "We were worried sick." Bullshit. You had to resist the urge to say it aloud. This wouldn't have happened had he been paying attention and heard at least one of your three call outs.

Jess could see the anger flickering in your narrowed eyes as you focused on Pavitr again in an attempt to calm your nerves. She could feel your fingers twitching against her hand as you took quiet breaths. She was sure Miguel could feel the motions in your fingers too, since the man had his hand tightly threaded with yours. You didn’t have energy to be angry right now. You could feel a wave of exhaustion coming over you, making your eyelids heavier than they already were. You succumbed to the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

‘He didn’t even look at me.’ Was a repetitive thought in Miguel’s head over the next few weeks. He took notice in that behavior. How could he not? He didn’t blame you, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a flicker of jealousy when he saw you and your goddamn face on the cameras and how you looked at all the spider people who visited you with kindness. You even gave little smiles to a few with that pretty face of yours—Fuck, he needed to talk about that.

Miguel didn’t get too many chances to visit you throughout the weeks and when he did manage to, you were already asleep by the time he got there. He’d pull a chair next to your bed, staring at you in ways he didn’t could only dream of compared to when you were awake. He'd spend a few hours every other night just… analyzing you. Counting every vein that traveled up your forearm, staring at the thick lashes on your lower waterline, the broad chest that peeked out of your hospital shirt—Gods, how could you be equal parts pretty and handsome?

Tonight was the same routine, Miguel had snuck into the medical wing way past visiting hours, slinking into your hospital room. He stood in the doorway, listening to the quiet whistling sound your nose made when you inhaled as confirmation that you were asleep. He stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him before grabbing a chair at the entry, picking it up and gently setting it on the floor at your bedside.

He took a seat before pulling a small metal object from his pocket. A nail clipper. Miguel had noticed that your nails had gained a bit of length, not much, but enough for him to notice. Definitely not because he wanted a reason to touch your hands. He carefully sat himself on the edge of your hospital bed before gently lifting your hand that still had an IV in it.

The horny bastard nearly moaned at how heavy your hand felt in his. How were you so strong? You barely had free time to work out with how often you were hunting anomalies and there was no way chasing those guys alone would be enough, right? He carefully set your hand on his thigh, the warmth emitting from you causing a smile to spread across his face. Gods, this felt wrong.

The room was silent besides the occasional clicking noise of the nail clipper as he worked through your first hand, making sure to carefully round the edges of your nails. Your hands were so nice, saliva pooling in Miguel’s mouth that he had to swallow down as he ran the pads of his fingers over every vein that traveled up the top of your hand. His mind was wandering and god your fingers were thick. The thoughts came before he could stop them, imagining you sliding your heavy digits into his mouth, coating them in his saliva before sliding them inside him one by one—

Miguel leaned over you, gently lifting your untreated hand to rest in his before he began repeating the same ministrations he gave to the first. The closer proximity made the scent of you in his nose even stronger. Your musk was a bit of everything: comforting, arousing, warm, familiar. If he could have it as a cologne, he would. ‘Fuck, is something wrong with me?’ Miguel thought to himself as he leaned towards you, his nose inching closer to the pulse in your neck.

He couldn’t help himself, gently laying your hand back in its original position before dipping down, pressing his nose against the delicate skin of your neck. ‘Something’s wrong with me.’ He inhaled deeply, having to suppress a moan in his throat at the smell of you. He planted his hands next to your hips. Oh my god, speaking of which, your hips just seemed to move so fluidly with you when you walked. It wasn’t like you were just blatantly swaying them, but Miguel noticed the way they seemed to rise and lower in sync with your bulky thighs as you moved around his office.

‘You’re tempting me on purpose, you have to be.’ Miguel thought to himself as he indulged further, letting the tip of his cold nose press against the side of your throat as he breathed you in. ‘I’ve never acted like this about anyone in my life before. Why’re you so easy to obsess over?’ Miguel found himself watching the medical wing’s security cameras in his time, watching as you walked in the hall with Jess, using the wall as a slight support. You looked like a leviathan in the hallway, your tall, broad stature taking up a large portion of the hall and dwarfing Jessica. You had no idea how arousing just the sight of you was.

Miguel’s thoughts were cut off by the feeling of your firm, calloused hands wrapping around his waist, spreading your warmth to those areas. Miguel nearly choked on his breath, absolutely refusing to meet your gaze right now. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. God no. You just caught him in the fucking act.

Miguel kept his head tucked under your chin, a warm feeling coiling in his gut at the realization that your hands wrapped nearly entirely around his waist. How the hell was that even possible? The man was 6’9 yet you managed to make him feel small. How were you even possible? Oh my god, he couldn’t even imagine the view you’d get if you were to wrap those hands around his waist, keeping him in place as you pounded into hi—

“Miguel.”

You felt your hand twitch at the feeling of something cold brushing against your neck. A nurse? Or maybe just a nip of the cold breeze that carried throughout the wing? Nope. ‘Y/n.’ You weren’t thinking that. Why would you repeat your own name? Oh right, you aren’t alone in your body. ‘Venom?’ There was a moment of silence in your conscious. ‘That… man is here again. The human. The weird one.’ ‘Miguel?’ A beat of silence yet again. Venom didn’t like saying the man’s name, preferring to lightheartedly insult him when describing him. You’d always brushed off Venom’s insistence that Miguel had a thing for you. ‘He’s touching you. Again.’ It’s voice was a hiss. ‘What?’

You woke up before you could get a response, your eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room, Miguel’s sturdy figure illuminated by the moonlight peeking into the room. You could feel him twitch and his breath catch when you wrapped your hands around his noticeably narrow waist. Why you chose his waist, you didn’t know, the motion being almost instinctual. You could tell he didn’t want to look at you. How could he, when you just caught him practically burying his face into your neck? You had to break the silence, as much as you hated speaking.

“Miguel.”

Silence in response to your husky voice. You slid your hands up his waist, gripping the sides of his chest before pulling him away, taking note of how your thumbs pressed into the plump edges of his pecs. Miguel’s eyes were trained on your neck as his hands rested against the large muscle of your shoulders. His face was red. So red. This wasn’t Miguel. This didn’t look like the man who so easily scolded others and had a resting bitch face for hours on end. Or at least it didn’t look like it.

“Miguel.”

Your voice was a lot firmer this time, catching Miguel’s full attention as he slowly looked up at you, an innocent look in his eyes. Who was this? Surely this wasn’t the leader of the Spider Society in your hospital room. Who was this little minx that slinked into your room while you were unconscious? “Explain yourself.” You wanted to say more, but the soreness of your throat said otherwise. “I-I was cutting your nails.” Miguel’s voice was shaky. You never heard the man like this before. “And?” You asked inquisitively. He was silent, his eyes darting between each of your sharper ones. “And I was… checking your pulse…?” Miguel’s voice was nearly silent now, an obvious hesitation in his voice.

“You’re a wonderful liar, boss.” You stared him down, your piercing gaze practically demanding an answer. “I was smelling you.” He whispered it so quietly, you almost didn’t pick it up with your still recovering eardrum. “Why?” “Because… because I missed you.” Miguel’s voice was a murmur. Missed you? Why the hell did he miss you? “You wouldn’t miss me if you had been paying attention.” You had to address the elephant in the room.

“Y/n—” “No. Explain to me. Because I called out to you thrice and I got zero response.” Not now, not yet. Miguel wanted this conversation to wait till you were fully recovered. His eyes darted to the door he came in through, but you quickly caught on, sliding your hands down to his waist again and tightening your grip. Oh fuck, Miguel had to suppress a whimper at the feeling. “I-I was busy with Lyla and—” “It’s an earpiece. You would’ve heard me. Meaning you either removed it or muted it. Explain why.” “Y/n, please, you should really just—” “What were you doing that was so important?”

Miguel’s mind was reeling. A part of him wanted to run from this conversation but the other was loving the sound of your voice and the feel of your firm grip on his waist. “Y-You should just go back to be—” “Shut up.” Gods, you had an authority in your voice that silenced him immediately. The feeling of your firm finger wrapped around his waist had him tensing his arms, pleading with his body to send the rushing heat elsewhere.

“Miguel. I will tell Lyla to pull up the cameras in your office myself. Or I’ll send Venom to.”

There was no running from this. No way in hell. “I-I was touching myself.” There. It was out now. He said it. Were you happy? Who knows, cause Miguel screwed his eyes shut the moment he said it. “Touching yourself…” Your voice was lower, and had a hint of anger and confusion in it. “Yes.” Miguel practically gasped out the word, his face flaming in his embarrassment. He’d rather just tell the man then have him watch it himself on the cameras. “You expect me to believe that? That you were touching yourself? We were talking and then suddenly you went radio si—…Miguel.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. You connected the dots. Miguel wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Explain it. Now.” Miguel was quick in his response. “Y-You were breathing, and every fucking piece of audio was picked up, and-and I felt this heat in me. And then you groaned and I just—I just…” Your grip tightened around his waist again and Miguel couldn’t help it, letting out a soft whimper at your touch. “You couldn’t help yourself.” You murmured. Miguel nodded his head in shame, opening his eyes again, though they remain focused on your neck again.

“Miguel.” His eyes snapped up to yours, an unmistakable heat in your husky voice. “Go lock the door.”

Miguel stood so quickly that the chair next to your bed nearly got knocked over.

So… are we feeling a part two? 😏 or was this ass? Cause I’ll stop rn. Lmao.

[reyneofswords]

The Beauty Myth highlights part 2/3

"The woman who dies thinnest, with the fewest wrinkles, wins."

"If women were going to have sexual freedom and a measure of worldly power, they'd better learn to fuck like men."

"Midway through the 1970s, the punk-rock scene began to glorify S and M: High school girls put safety pins through their ears, painted their lips bruise-blue, and ripped their clothing to suggest sexual battle. By the end of the decade, S and M had ascended from street fashion to high fashion in the form of studded black leather, wristcuffs, and spikes. Fashion models adopted from violent pornography the furious pouting glare of the violated woman. "Vanilla" sexual styles - loving and nonviolent - came to look passé."

"Consumer culture depends on maintaining a broken line of communication between the sexes and promoting matching sexual insecurities."

"With women experimenting sexually, men risked hearing what women hear every day: that there are sexual standards against which they might be compared. Their fears are exaggerated: Even with sexual freedom, women maintain a strict code of etiquette. "Never," enjoins a women's magazine, "mention the size of his [penis] in public... and never, ever let him know that anyone else knows or you may find it shrivels up and disappears, serving you right." That quotation acknowledges that critical sexual comparison is a direct anaphrodisiac when applied to men; either we do not recognize that it has exactly the same effect on women, or we do not care, or we understand on some level that right now that effect is desirable and appropriate."

"What little girls learn is not desire for the other, but the desire to be desired."

"So the beauty myth sets it up this way: A high rating as an art object is the most valuable tribute a woman can exact from her lover. If he appreciates her face and body because it is hers, that is next to worthless."

"Some men do get a sexual charge from a woman's objective "beauty," just as some women feel sexual pleasure at the thought of a man's money or power. But it is often a status high, a form of exhibitionism, that draws its power from the man imagining his buddies imagining him doing what he is doing while he does it."

"The idea that adult women, with their fully developed array of sexual characteristics, are inadequate to stimulate and gratify heterosexual male desire, and that "beauty" is what will complete them, is the beauty myth's Big Lie."