#Duck Game Worker

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

Names for the monsters?

I'm going to assume you mean the Creepy Carnies...

Warning: Names are subject to change XD

Lionhemoth (lion + behemoth)

Water-Foul (waterfowl + foul)

Brainworm (that's a real thing. Also it literally looks like a brain + worm)

Gyral (um...)

Grease Monger (grease + peace monger. She seems... nice.)

Heartstrings (I guess puppets have strings. And he's the Tunnel of Love Worker.)

Now the twins... I could just call them Ruckus and Riot XD

Monsters and proud!

[thehyperrequiem]

Is it just me, or does the Monster form of the Duck Game Worker look cuddly?

I mean, look at it, this picture of him and the pose of him looks like he is opening for a hug. So cute!

[pawptropica]

Duck Game Worker

The duck game worker is a brown tabby Pixiebob cat!

[mango-sideburns]

My fav thing about TAZ is that any aspect out of context sounds fucking bonkers.

Like, in the balance finale there's a scene in which Garfield (who is very specifically never described visually bc most people imagine him as like. The Lasagna Cat. Who in this universe is the most powerful warlock in the realm and also has a hobby of cloning people, which is great for the one character that got forced into haunting a mannequin) is summoned by an alien spaceship that runs on the power of friendship so he could beat up some flashing balls. In D&D.

And that was just. Such a normal scene in the narrative. No one blinked an eye. I would like to bow down to Griffins clear unmatched talent for making me feel such big emotions over ridiculous shit like a goddamned umbrella or a regular ass pair of jeans or the idea of a taco recipe.

[b3crew]

PAX EAST 2023 PREVIEWS: DAY SEVEN | B3 - Boston Bastard Brigade

KBD goes between violently cute and comfortably mundane in his PAX East previews of Wired Productions's Gori: Cuddly Carnage and The Last Worker (the latter now available)!

[reiding-writing]

Ooo please write cold!reader being a complete badass in the field and Spencer just being in love

TAKEDOWN [PART ONE]

/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part two/

Who knew watching somebody take down an unsub would cause Spencer to feel so many emotions at once?

WARNINGS: fem!reader, guns, knives, minor character injury

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 1.6k || series masterlist!!

a/n: glad people have taken as much of a liking to cold!reader as i have 😭

main masterlist!!

“Don’t. Move.”

Having a glock levelled at the back of somebody’s head was never the best way to spend your Thursday afternoon, but alas, it is what it is.

You press the barrel into the man’s head with enough pressure for his shoulders to tense, his eyes widening as they remained fixed on Spencer and Morgan in front of him, who both had their own guns raised in his direction. “Drop the knife.”

The man raised both of his arms slowly, butterfly knife held loosely in his right hand.

“Drop it.”

You can’t see the man’s expression from where you’re standing, but if you had to wager a guess based on the flickering of Spencer’s irises you’d say he was smiling.

The way he started to let go of the knife in his hand solidified your theory.

He loosened his grip on the split handle of the knife one finger at a time, tantalisingly slowly like he was treating your threat like some kind of game.

“I said drop it.”

“Slow your roll sweetheart, I am,”

You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment, pressing the barrel of your gun harder against the back of his head. “I have a gun levelled to the back of your head, drop the knife now or I will send a bullet straight through your skull.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” The way he speaks down to you makes your blood boil, and you make a show of pulling the slide back, the metal making a loud clicking sound that verberated through his skull as an unused round falls onto the ground by your feet.

“Try me.”

“Alright alright,” The man laughs at your display, although you can tell by the tension in his shoulder blades that his confidence is starting to dwindle, especially when the three people pointing their guns at him turned into four as Emily joined Morgan and Spencer with her firearm raised.

The last finger he has holding the butterfly knife is his index finger, and you can see Spencer’s expression furrow with his hand tightening on the handle grip. Clearly he didn’t think that the unsub was going to surrender that easily.

You mirror the way Spencer tightens his grip as you focus your gaze on the knife in the unsub’s hand, and the way he raised his index finger excruciatingly slowly, almost rolling the knife in his hand rather than actually letting go of it.

Spencer’s apprehension was well founded it seemed, and the split-knife handle twisted around the back of the unsub’s hand before being clutched back in his palm as ducked his head and swung backwards towards you.

You pull your head backwards as he turns to stop the knife from going straight into the side of your head, grasping his wrist with your left had as you slam your right elbow down into the curve of his arm so that he’s forced to kneel or else have the bones in his arm snap under the force, the knife falling to the floor in the process.

His knees hit the floor with a loud ‘thud’, and you force his arm behind him painfully tight as his chest meets the concrete, and you again press the barrel of your gun to the back of his head, this time with the added leverage of leaning over him whilst he’s rendered defenceless on his ground with your knee planted directly on his spine.

There’s a short whistle from where your co-workers are standing once you’ve got the unsub immobilised, one that clearly came from Morgan as he walks over with his gun held loosely in his right hand and a pair of handcuffs held out towards you as they balance precariously on his left index finger. “Nice, that was hot,”

You exchange your gun for the handcuffs with a scoff at his comment. “Shut your mouth,”

You tug the unsub to his feet once he’s cuffed, passing him off to Emily so that she can escort him to the SUV with Morgan as backup just in case he tried anything.

“You uh- did a good job,” You give Spencer a small hum as acknowledgement of his comment as you pick up the butterfly knife from the floor, turning it in your hands as you stand up from your knelt position to turn your attention to Spencer.

“You’re bleeding-” His eyes widen as he catches the first full look at your face since the confrontation ended, blinking softly with his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern.

You raise an eyebrow at his comment at first, a small stinging emanating from your cheek as you tense the muscles needed to do so, and you swipe your left hand across the apple of your right cheek, pulling it back to reveal a red stain smudged across the back of your knuckles.

You were bleeding. The unsub must’ve nicked you when he swung earlier.

“It’s fine,” You wipe your hand on the thigh of your jeans, pocketing the knife to bring it back to the station later.

“You should… Uh…” Spencer blinked a few times as he tried to formulate his words under the view of your actions, the smudge of blood left behind from your hand being joined by a fresh trickle that was slowly making it’s way down your cheek and suddenly making Spencer forget everything he knew about the English language. “You- uh- you should-”

He points lamely over his shoulder towards the ambulance on standby, hoping that his actions will save him where his words are failing.

“It’s fine Reid,” You shake your head at his suggestion, rolling your right shoulder with your left hand planted firmly at the joint.

“You really- Just in case-” Spencer continues to fumble blindly over his words as he tries to give you a reason to have your cut checked out.

“It’ll be fine,”

“Even- Even small uh.. Even small cuts and scrapes can get infected and lead to sepsis if you’re not careful-” He got a full sentence out this time. Barely. For some reason he was having a really hard time focusing under your gaze, even more so than usual.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d just watched you swerve a knife swing and take down a 6’4 unsub like he was a ragdoll. Maybe it was the fact that you were so nonchalant about the gash on your face and the blood trickling down your cheek. Maybe it was the natural narrowing of your eyes as you looked at him that made his heart feel like it was going to drop into his stomach.

But it wasn’t fear, so it couldn’t have been any of those things, if it were to do with that then surely he’d be feeling intimidated rather than, well, whatever he was feeling right now.

“Will it get you off my back?”

Spencer’s vision comes back into focus at your question, shamelessly staring in your direction. “Yeah uh- mhm,” He nods timidly, lips pressed tight into a line as his teeth tug at his lips nervously. “Please get it checked?”

You let your head fall back until you’re stood facing the ceiling, your eyes closing momentarily with an exasperated sigh. “Fine,”

Spencer follows the small trail of blood that extends past your jawline and down the side of your neck as you lean your head backwards, eyes snapping back up to your face once you tilt it back straight with your eyes locked on his face. “Lead the way then,”

“Right-” Spencer gives a sharp nod as he turns around towards the ambulance and begins walking with you on his tail, half grateful that you’re not in his line of vision anymore as his heart rate slowly returns to normal.

It was just the adrenaline surely.

He stays with you as you get your gash checked out by the EMTs, eyes following the antiseptic wipe that cleans up the drying blood stain down your neck and up the side of your face, the hiss that leaves your mouth and the sight of you wincing slightly under the sting as it reached the sight of injury causing his heart to drop and his pulse to race once more.

He was just concerned about your well being, that’s all.

[sluts4matt]

y/n teasing Matt or Chris in public so he takes you to the bathroom and fucks the shit out of you

STATE FAIR

pairing: rough!dom matt x latina!reader

summary: you had been teasing him the majority of the day and he was finally tired of it.

warnings: SMUT, dumbification, light gagging, bondage, degradation, praising if you squint, pet names, dirty talk, public, p in v, teasing, orgasm denial, slight overstimulation, hairpulling

word count: 1058

author's note: hmmmm, do i like it? you ask (you don't actually care) i love it and i hope you do too 🥰

it had been a while since you had been to a fair, the loudness of the people and the clutter-ness making you cling to your boyfriend matt's side more than usual.

his brothers nick and chris led the way to some games, matt's hand wrapped tightly around yours as he stuck to your side.

"you look pretty by the way," he whispered, swiftly ducking his lips to your ear. you smiled softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "thank you, love."

"come on, guys!" nick shouted, and the two of you turned to see the boys looking at you with amused smiles. "do i get to win you a prize?" he asks, seeing you eye a pink and white unicorn.

"if you want, love." you said, the two of you walking over.

matt was the first to go, taking the ball and aiming it. you watched in surprise as it bounced off the rim, matt cursing.

you giggled as he looked at you muttering an 'i got this' before turning back to the game.

you walked over, wrapping your arms around his middle as he aimed again. "can i try?" you ask, watching as he misses again.

he looks down at you, sighing and giving the ball over. you take your spot in front of him, aiming the ball at the target. a small smirk appears on your lips before you wiggle your hips around, your ass pressing against the fabric of his crotch.

you giggle, hearing him grunt and hold you by the waist, you throw the ball and make it.

"i knew i had this." you say, turning to look at matt and smile.

he stares down at you, a small glare on his face. "what?" you mumble innocently, a fake pout forming on your lips as your grab the unicorn from the worker.

"you know what." you shrug your shoulders with a hum, walking up to catch up with nick and chris, your hips teasingly swaying.

a few minutes pass and the two of you find yourselves in line for some cotton candy, the boys deciding they wanted something sweet.

matt stands behind you, his hand wrapped around your waist tightly. his chest rested against your back, his chin on top of your head.

you occasionally wiggled your hips around, claiming 'you were trying to get comfortable' as his grip on your waist tightens.

"stop." he mutters in your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. you tilt your head up, smiling at him innocently. "i have no idea what you're talking about," you say cheekily, before looking ahead again.

you can hear his groan, feeling his head fall to the crook of your neck. you giggle, feeling him nibble the skin gently, his tongue running over the bite marks.

"you're gonna pay for that." he whispers, his teeth tugging on the skin lightly.

"promise?" you ask, a smirk on your face. "promise," he mocks, already dragging you away.

"matt! the cotton candy!" you shout, pointing to the stand. "fuck the cotton candy," he says, dragging you towards the bathroom.

"but- but matt." you whine, letting yourself be dragged away. he rolls his eyes, his grip on you tightening. "if you keep complaining, i'm gonna tie you up," he threatens.

"matt, the cotton candy," you whine again, your voice teasing. you watch him growl, dragging you into the men's bathroom and shoving you into a stall.

"matt what are you doing?" you ask, gasping as he pins you against the door, his hand covering your mouth. "shut up," he mutters, his lips pressing against your neck, the hand not covering your mouth unbuttoning your jeans.

he tugged the zipper down, watching the material loosen around your hips. his pants were the next to go, the boy quickly tying his belt around your wrist, looping it around the bag holder that hung at the top of the door to keep your arms above your head.

"this is a new level of kinky, matt," you tease, earning a small smack to your thigh. "do you ever shut up?" he mumbles, a small glare appearing on his face. "nope," you respond, popping the 'p'.

he rolls his eyes, pulling his cock out and lining it with your cunt. he doesn't bother warning you, thrusting into you with one motion.

you moan, his hand covering your mouth once more. he moves his hips, thrusting in and out of you quickly. his hand grabbed your leg, pushing it up by the bend of your knee.

"look at how good you're taking my cock, baby." he grunts, his hand moving from your mouth to wrap around your throat.

your eyes rolled back, feeling him tighten his grip slightly, his hips hitting against yours harder. "such a pretty little slut," he mutters.

your moans grew louder, the pleasure overwhelming. he growled, his hand covering your mouth again as he thrust into you faster.

"you like being fucked in public, hm?" he taunted, watching as your body moved with each thrust and your eyes rolled back into your head.

he pressed his thumb into your mouth, pushing it down onto your tongue and watching as you drooled. "you're so fucking disgusting." he muttered, his fingers squeezing the sides of your cheeks as he forced his thumb deeper into your mouth.

you groaned, feeling him pull out quickly undoing the belt and spinning you around, your ass pressing into him. he gathered your wrist behind your back, retying the belt around them.

he pulled his shirt over his head, tying it around your mouth. he held his hand over it, the other resting on your shoulder as he rammed his cock back into your pussy, watching it squeeze around his dick.

"so fucking tight," he mutters, his head rolling back in pleasure. "such a perfect little slut, all for me." he continues, his grip on your shoulder tightening as his hips move quicker.

the sounds of his hips hitting yours echo throughout the room, your muffled moans filling the air as well.

he groaned, the sight of your ass bouncing back onto his cock turning him on more. "gonna cum, pretty girl?" he asked, his hand wrapping around your hair and yanking it back.

you nodded, letting out a muffled whine as you clenched around him.

"you wanna cum?" he asked, earning a series of muffled moans in response.

"say it. say it, and i'll let you cum." your back arched more as more whimpers and whines left your lips instead of the words he wanted to hear.

"then i guess you don't want to cum." he taunts, knowing you couldn't have responded with a shirt around your mouth.

your eyes roll back, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes as you feel him continue to fuck into you.

he let's out a dark chuckle, the sound making you clench around him more. "aw, baby. you gonna cry because i won't let you cum? pathetic," he taunts, the hand holding your wrists tugging on them, the leather digging into your skin.

you whimper, your hands curling into fists as he thrusts his hips into you roughly.

"i'll let you cum," he says, "but i wanna hear you beg for it."

"mhm," you whine, the shirt still restricting any actual words. he tugs it down, and the second it hits your chin, you let out a series of pornographic whines.

"matt, fuck. please let me cum," you whimper, the sound of the door opening and a pair of footsteps walking in making matt wrap his hand around your mouth to quiet you.

his pace slowed down as he continued to thrust into you deeply, hitting your cervix each time. "shh," he mumbled, leaning closer to your ear as the two of you hear the person walk into a stall.

"can't let him hear what a desperate whore you are." he says, a small smile appearing on his lips. his pace picked up hearing the urinal flush and the water start running.

you bite your lip, your eyes rolling back as he fucked into you. you could feel the tears of pleasure pricking at your eyes again, the boy not bothering to slow his pace.

you could hear the water turn off and the door open and close, the person leaving.

"please," you begged, tears starting to stream down your face. "please, please, please, matt," you babbled, not being able to form an actual sentence. he chuckled, his pace picking up more.

"oh my, mm, fuck, fuck, god yes," you whimpered, your legs shaking as he continued to pound into your pussy. "such a dumb little toy for my cock," he muttered, his hips smacking into yours.

"cum for me, pretty girl," he commanded, his hand gripping your hips tightly. your moans echoed around the room as he fucked you through your orgasm, the feeling of him releasing inside of you not being missed.

he pulled out, watching as his cum leaked out of you and down your leg.

he untied the shirt and belt, watching as you turned to face him, a lazy smile on your face as you stumbled slightly.

"aw, my pretty baby all dumb and happy," he said, a smirk on his face as he watched your dazed smile and droopy eyes.

"my dumb little toy," he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "i love you," he muttered, a smile on his face. "love you too," you slurred, smiling up at him.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @catalina-island @stars4chratt @gbaabyyyy @monkeyscientist22

[mysunshinetemptress]

Nepo Baby

Leah Williamson x Beckham!Reader

Warning: I hate this sorry love the request but hate this

The locker room buzzed with nervous energy. England was facing Ireland, An important match in the intense group all looking to qualify for the Euros next year, and the tension was thicker than hairspray. But for Leah Williamson, captain and undisputed leader, there was an extra edge, it was her first game back for England since her ACL injury last year and although she was excited to finally be leading England back out she knew it wasn't what anyone would be talking about, not even her best friends had acknowledged the importance of today for her, all to caught up in the fan fair of a new England debut that was Y/n Beckham.

You were David and Victoria Beckham's third child, twin sister to Romeo and from the moment your name had been announced to the squad list the media had blown up, but Leah had been a sceptic. The media fawned over you, the "Beckham heir," a title that felt more like a burden than a birthright. Leah had clawed her way to the top, her talent undeniable. You, she suspected, had a silver spoon where your foot should be.

England's first training session confirmed Leah's suspicions. Your skills were undeniable – your crosses were pinpoint, your dribbling silky smooth. But there was a certain arrogance in your gaze, a sense of entitlement that grated on Leah. During a passing drill, You intercepted a ball intended for Leah, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Easy there, Williamson," You smirked, sending the ball sailing over Leah's head. "Maybe next time, try calling for it a bit louder."

Leah bristled. "Don't patronise me, Beckham," she growled. "This isn't your playground."

You began to regret your earlier arrogance as Leah began to nitpick her way through your play, through the rest of the training sessions at St Georges Leah found something to fault you on and you began to think back to all your past coaches who had put you on a pedestal only wanting to watch you fall. All training sessions continued like this and you hoped that she might let up but Leah seemed set in her ways.

Leah sighed walking into the conference room her first one back for England, her first one back as captain, she smiled letting out a soft hello before taking her seat beside Sarina.

Leah puffed out her cheeks as another reporter asked about you, She looked up as yet another report mentioned you and your father's talent. "Her dad worked hard to gain the career he had, Y/n has waltzed into her contracts thanks to his hard work, no other reason, she's an arrogant Nepo baby on a team of hard workers, now can we please move off this topic and actually talk about the upcoming games." The room fell into an awkward silence at the normally calm captains outburst.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the nervous coughs of a few reporters. Sarina Wiegman, the England manager, cleared her throat, her eyes flitting between Leah and the press. "Leah makes a valid point," she finally chimed in, her voice calm but firm. "We're here to discuss the upcoming matches, and the entire squad deserves your attention. Y/n has earned her place here based on her talent, and we're all focused on bringing home a win."

Leah felt a sliver of guilt at the manager's words. She knew Sarina was right, the media frenzy surrounding Y/n wasn't fair to anyone, and her outburst was unprofessional. But the constant comparisons, the whispers of nepotism, they were a persistent itch under her skin. That guilty feeling however was made ten times worse when she caught your eye at the back of the conference room before you ducked your head and began to walk out.

You had avoided Leah for the rest of your time at St Georges as well as the short travelling day over to Dublin, and now you sat at your cubby head down staring at the ground the weight of the surname on your back, the weight of your very famous family sitting in the stands travelling to see your debut for England. You couldn't let them down, you couldn't let him down.

The anger towards you and your nepotism crept back into Leah as she listened to Kiera and Georgia harp on about you and your famous family completely forgetting that this was also an important moment for her, this was her first time back in the England squad in a year, her first time starting, her first time back as captain.

Lining up Leah grabbed your arm before you could walk out "You aren't talented, you're a kid using your father's hard work, you never had to fight for your spot it was given to you on a silver platter thanks to the name on your back." Leah spat the last part back at you and suddenly you couldn't move, Leah hit your shoulder before heading to the tunnel, but still you couldn't move, she was right after all.

Shame burned in your throat, acrid and bitter. Leah's words echoed in the empty hallway, bouncing off the lockers and amplifying the hollowness you felt inside. Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring the already dim lighting. You weren't a child, not anymore. But in that moment, Leah's words had stripped you bare, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

A shaky breath escaped your lips. You weren't a Beckham just because of your name. You'd trained relentlessly since you could walk, mimicking your dad's moves in the living room, begging him for extra sessions after school. You had the talent, you knew you did. But proving it to someone as entrenched as Leah felt impossible.

Suddenly, the weight of expectation on your young shoulders felt insurmountable. The image of your family in the stands, their hopeful faces etched in your mind, only amplified the pressure. You couldn't let them down, couldn't let your dad down after years of his unwavering support. A surge of defiance replaced the self-doubt. No, you wouldn't let Leah break you.

Suddenly, a hand touched your shoulder. You flinched, expecting another barb, but it was Lucy, her face etched with concern. "Y/n, are you alright?" she asked gently.

You shook your head, voice cracking. "I...she thinks..." you choked on the words.

Lucy understood. She'd been there, the pressure of a debut, the weight of expectations. "Listen," she said firmly, her voice laced with veteran experience, "Leah's hurting. She wants to prove herself again, and right now, she's lashing out."

"But it's true," you whispered, tears finally spilling over. "I haven't had to fight for anything."

Lucy wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a hug. "Maybe not," she conceded, "but that doesn't mean you don't have talent. We wouldn't be here if you weren't good. Use this, Y/n. Prove them all wrong, yourself included."

Her words sparked a flicker of defiance in your chest. You weren't here just because of your name. You loved football, you'd trained relentlessly, pushing yourself as hard as anyone. Maybe you hadn't clawed your way up from the bottom, but that didn't mean you didn't belong.

Wiping your tears, you straightened your back, a newfound resolve hardening your gaze. "Thanks, Lucy," you said, your voice firm. 

The roar of the Dublin crowd washed over you as you stepped onto the pitch. You glanced at Leah across the line, her jaw clenched, eyes hard with determination. It wasn't a friendly look, but it wasn't a dismissive one either.

Every touch, every pass, fueled by the need to silence the doubts, both internal and external. You played with a tenacity that surprised even yourself, weaving through defenders, your crosses finding their targets with pinpoint accuracy.

Then, in the second half, a chance. You intercepted a pass deep in your own half, broke free, and sprinted down the wing. The Irish defense converged, but you remembered Leah's words from training, the ones buried under the avalanche of criticism. You feinted left, then right, sending two defenders sprawling.

With only the Courtney Brosnan to beat, you took a deep breath, you curled the ball towards the far post. It dipped just out of reach of the goalkeeper's fingertips, nestled perfectly into the net.

The stadium erupted. Your teammates swarmed you, a joyous tangle of limbs. Even Leah offered a hesitant smile, a flicker of pride in her eyes.

The final whistle blew, and England was victorious. As you celebrated with your teammates, a hand landed on your shoulder. You looked up to see Leah, a genuine smile on her face.

"Good goal," she said, her voice the softest you've heard.

"Thank you." you smiled back before clearing your throat, your eyes pricking with tears before let out a surprised gasp at Leah pulling you into her chest.

The unexpected warmth of Leah's embrace sent a jolt through you. It was the first genuine human contact you'd had from her all camp, and for some reason, it felt like a dam breaking.

"I just want to prove myself," you mumbled against her shoulder, your voice thick with emotion. "Everyone expects me to be this prodigy, just because of my name. But I don't want to be David Beckham's daughter, I want to be Y/n Beckham, the footballer."

Leah pulled back to meet your gaze, her voice softer than you expected. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to prove yourself. I was out of line. The whole 'nepo baby' thing...it was unprofessional and unfair. You deserve to be here, Y/n. Your talent speaks for itself."

That night, under the soft glow of the locker room lights, a tentative friendship blossomed. It was a friendship forged in shared passion, mutual respect, and the unspoken understanding of the immense pressure that came with wearing the England shirt.pen_spark

You wouldn't see Leah again until England's camp in preparation for the doubleheader against France and this time the training sessions became a battleground, not of barbs and put-downs, but of fierce competition, each of you pushing the other to be better. You learned to anticipate Leah's sharp passes, and her instinctive runs, and she, in turn, began to appreciate the subtle artistry in your footwork, the way you could unlock a defence with a single, deft touch.

Late nights turned into conversations in the locker room, sharing stories, dreams, and the anxieties that came with leading a team like England. You confided in Leah about the suffocating weight of expectation, the fear of never living up to your father's legacy. She, in turn, opened up about the loneliness of being the captain, the constant scrutiny, the burden of always having to be strong.

The evening before the team were set to travel to Newcastle, after a particularly gruelling training session, you found yourself lingering in the empty team room. Leah was still there, sat on the couch scrolling in the corner. You hesitated, then walked over.

"Fancy a game of Ping Pong." You rubbed your neck nervously as Leah met your eyes before smiling "Yeah sure." You both spent the night laughing over your terrible ping-pong skills before quietly wishing each other good night.

As weeks turned into months, your friendship deepened, blossoming into something more. Stolen glances across the training field, lingering touches during celebrations, late-night texts filled with silly jokes and words left unsaid. It was a slow burn, a gradual realization that the person you once considered your rival had become someone you craved, not just on the pitch, but off it as well.

The turning point came during the final Euro qualifier match against Swede. The pressure was immense, and the score tied with only minutes remaining. You received the ball deep in your own half, the Swedish defence swarming around you. You saw a gap, a flicker of movement, and instinctively passed the ball.

Leah, anticipating the play, met the ball perfectly, unleashing a powerful shot that rocketed into the net. The stadium erupted, your teammates mobbing you both in a joyous frenzy. In that shared moment of triumph, your eyes met, and a silent confession hung heavy in the air.

Later that night, back at the team hotel, you found Leah pacing the balcony overlooking the city lights. The nervous tension that had been simmering for weeks finally broke.

"Leah," you started, your voice barely above a whisper "Are you ok." Leah walked straight for you before gently grabbing your face before you placed a hand on her chest stopping her advances. "This...us...it's not fair to the team, is it?"

She didn't move, her eyes searching yours. "Maybe not," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. "But it feels pretty damn right."

You dropped your hands to her waist as she pulled you into a searing kiss before you pulled back again Leah let out a whine in frustration, "And to think you hated me only a few months ago." Leah let out a scoff "I never hated you, how could I ever hate a girl as gorgeous as you." you laughed before pulling her into another kiss

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 11

You just walk into the event site and it's already a win. They gave Abby a paper wristband and she thinks they gave her a bracelet as a gift. It's going to be a fight later when you have to cut that off her.

Bucky leans down to you, "What's the game plan?"

"Maybe we can walk through everything first, to see what they have and see what Abby likes? Is that ok?"

"Sure, whatever you want, doll."

Looking at Abby up on his shoulders, "Let me know when you want me to carry her. Or you can let her walk. She can get heavy."

Giving you an insulted look, "I'm a super soldier. My ruck sack is heavier than she is."

You put your hands up in surrender, "Sorry, Super Soldier." You adjust Abby's backpack on your back and follow them. You weren't sure what they'd have here, so you packed some of Abby's necessities, but you don't think you'll be needing it. There's a section marked off for a dozen or so food trucks, a small stage & tents sent up. Some families where on blankets having picnics. Others were under the tents. "I've never taken Abby to Coney Island or a fair like this before. This is all new to her." You look up at Abby & she is so wide-eyed trying to take everything in.

You stop at the tent of Midway Gallery of Games. You watch people play trying to win stuffed animals & all sorts of prizes. Some of the Agents were yelling & getting rowdy in their competition. You look up and you notice Abby looking frightened & covering her ears. "Baby?" You hold your arms out to her, and she frowns & reaches out to you. "It's ok." Bucky deposits Abby into your arms & rubs her back. "It's a little too loud, huh?" You make your way out of that section & head to the rides. "Ok, this is better. It's quieter out here."

You walk pass the rides, Abby showing zero interest. She has her thumb in her mouth & snuggled into your neck. All the noise and lights were too much for her. You walk a little further and come across a petting zoo. "Abby, look!" You put her down & hold her hand, leading her to the pens.

"It stinky, Mama." Bucky laughs as she scrunches her nose.

"But what are those?"

She squeals, "It's baby duckies!" You let Abby run over to the pen & one of the workers walks up to her with a duckling in her hands and asks Abby is she'd like to pet it. "Mama?" You smile & nod. She's so good & gentle with it. You pull out your phone wanting to get pictures, and the worker takes Abby to a stool to sit & places the duckling in her lap. She's so adorable, You thank the worker & Abby waves goodbye.

"Mama did you sees me? The baby duck sat on my lap!"

"I did, Baby! You were so good with the duckling." And that's how the next half hour goes by. You visit all the babies. PIg, chicken, rabbit, lamb, horses, cows...the baby goats were a little too wild for her. Abby ran to Bucky asking for "upsies".

"I'm ready for a snack. Who wants a treat?" Abby gives you a quick look to see what your reaction is. You raise your hand, so Abby copies you & yells out "Me!" You go to a nearby stand to pick out some lemonade & ice tea in Avenger logo mason jars. You're ready to pay for it, "I'll get it, my treat."

"It's all taken care of. Stark is picking up the tab. The food, rides, games, it's all unlimited."

"That's insane, Buck!" He shrugs and hands you another lemonade. He noticed you were just going to share one with Abby, which you happily take. He grabs a churro for you all to share. He wanted to get one in every flavor for Abby, but you nixed that idea. The last thing you need is for her to get a tummy ache. And you already know you want to get her cotton candy later. That'll be enough sugar to blow her mind.

You take a break to eat your snacks & sanitize your baby after touching all the animals. You bring out the baby wipe & hand sanitizer. Bucky laughs at you, but Abby doesn't care because she now smells pretty, not like the stinky animals.

Now that she's in a better mood, you'll give the rides another round & see if she's interested. She did a round in the jumper house. You're so worried because she's so little and you don't want her to get trampled on, but that's part of being a kid. She fell down & couldn't get back up with all the other kids jumping but she was laughing as she crawled to the wall to get herself back on her feet. She came out of there all sweaty & cheeks pink from laughing.

Then the 3 of you went on the ferris wheel. She didn't want to go until you said you'd all go together & that she could sit in the middle so she'll be safe. She had a tight grip on Bucky's Vibranium arm, but after the first time around, she relaxed and enjoyed it. She could see everything being so high up. Bucky said they could ride it again at night so they could see all the lights and maybe even the fireworks.

The Carousel was next. "Do you want to ride the pretty horses?"

"Oh Mama!" She tries to spin you so she can see her backpack, "It's a unicorn, like i gots!"

Bucky laughs, "You want to ride that one?"

"Yes! I needs to." She jumps up & down. You all wait in line for the next group to enter. Once Abby gets up to the gate, Bucky scoops her up and makes a mad dash to find the unicorn. You hear her screaming with laughter. You try to chase after them. Abby is pointing him in all different directions & giggling. Finally they capture the unicorn for Abby to ride. You take quick pictures of Bucky & Abby with her unicorn. "Mama lookit!"

"It's so pretty! You look like a fairy princess, baby!" There's so much joy on her face you want to break down & cry.

Buck nods over at the horse across from Abby, "Get on."

"No, I don't..."

"Yes, Mama! You needs to!"

"I got her," Bucky resting his arm around Abby's back. "Ride with Abby."

You climb up on the horse as the ride starts and you feel silly and carefree all at the same time. When was the last time you were on a carousel? "Mama, you looks like the fairy QUEEN!"

Bucky looks up at you, "She sure does." You feel your cheeks heat under his gaze.

The ride was over way to quickly. Bucky helps you both off your horses & escorts you outside the gates where Steve awaits you all. "Mr. Captain, you sees my unicorn? I rides him & didn't falls off." Steve so surprised that Abby's even acknowledging him, he laughs.

" You know what? I did. I saw you and your Mama racing up there, and i think you won."

Abby covers her mouth with her hands & giggles, "Mama, I wons you!"

Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you back against him, "Did you? Mama was going really fast."

"No, I wons. Mr Captain says so."

"Well, if Mr. Captain says so," Bucky shrugs.

"You guys had lunch yet? Or visited the food trucks?"

"Not yet. Are you hungry Abby? Want to find lunch?" She nods & jumps up and down.

There's so much food and snacks to choose from. The guys end up with BBQ plates and you and Abby are sharing pizza and tacos. You're enjoying your break when Abby stands up on the bench and starts waving, "Frien'! Frien'!" You look around to see who she's calling. "Mama, pretty lady!"

"Natasha."

"N'asha! N'asha!" Abby jumps down & runs to Nat. Bucky's already on his feet ready to follow her. Natasha sees her & picks her up and walks her back over. You can see your baby's mouth moving a mile a minute. "But the goat was jumping and jumping. I's so scared, but Bucky lifts me so they can't gets me."

Taking a seat next to Bucky, "Wow! You had some excitement, huh?"

Climbing on the bench next to you, "It was baby but it was big like me. Ands you know what?"

"What?"

Gulping for air because she's talking so much, "Mama & I race, and my unicorn won. Mr. Captain says I wons her!" Abby claps for herself.

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella

"You won. Not you wons her." You roll your eyes but inside you heart in overflowing with love for her excitement and how everyone is so kind to her. You were so worried about being a single parent and not being able to give your baby the life you wished for her. But you think you'll actually be able to do that. Things are looking up for you both. She's going to remember this day for a long, long time. You both will.

Next chapter

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

So, I have a question to ask of you; if you can name the monster form of the Duck game Worker from monster carnival island, what would you call it? For me, I personally call it The Duck Game’s Monster, in reference to the Loch Ness Monster (both of them are sea monsters)

My name idea is this: Water-Foul.

A waterfowl is a swimming bird, like ducks. And "foul" means, well, something disgusting. So it just makes sense.

His human name could be Frankie. Or Elmer.

[thehyperrequiem]

Awww! It's a Sea Monster Mimir, look at him sleeping. Best to not wake him up, he can get grumpy...And oh yeah, his neck is used for a pillow. Wow, it's been a while since I have drawn Duck Game Worker's monster form.

🦆🐟💤

[flowerandthesongstress]

complaints I've already seen about Coral Island, a new Indonesian kickstarter cozy game: the barman selling a ruined dish is an uncalled-for jab at restaurant workers! cats shouldn't hang out outdoors! eew, this woman shouldn't display her pregnancy stretch marks! where are all the kippot! why is everyone in such good shape! preposterous! this partially deaf character talking in caps lock is triggering me! no one in doctors without borders would be that tattooed, this dreadful representation is literal murder! no doctor would forget her paperwork at a library, for that matter! why is a japanese fisherman talking like a scottish pirate, this is inaccurate!

meanwhile in the game: I freed a stone statue from a magical underground prison and he put an enchantment on my hoe. his brother asked me if I liked figs is he flirting. my hippie boyfriend is heartbroken because his bucket-wearing pet duck is sick but shhh watching tv will heal him. last night when I talked to the outdoors cat she mentioned that she has a crippling fear of birds and thinks of getting therapy. a stem academic looks like a kpop idol and is getting enough sleep. he wears his astrophysics degree all over himself like a linguist would have worn alphabet necklaces, just to spite his dad but it's not working why is it not working ah shit it's working. mermaids hired me as a janitor. it's not pro bono I'm paid in diamonds. my neighbor is worried that his shiba inu went back to rejoin the mountain whence it came from. a turtle won't let me pass until I serve her spaghetti. I'm fighting capitalism with a literal scythe. the local blacksmith is asking my opinion regarding a legendary battle hammer and if it's worth the logistics hassle. it's been a year crabs are still dancing in celebration their zeal is admirable but their choreography could use some work. this giant monkey covered in two layers of meta wants to sell me a nostalgic souvenir. I know it because he sent me a polite letter. how many propaganda flyers can I fish out of this pond a challenge. I barged into a local lab and upended a barrel of seaweed over intricate circuitry now my flowers are five percent prettier. the scientist at the lab attached a mermish translator to my diving suit via the power of coffee. hold on I'm doing meal prep for next week let me finish putting ectoplasmic slime on okra

[calumfmu]

i really love your fics! could i request steve x f’girl reader? i love flipping tropes on their heads!

Hiiii!! Thank you so much <3 Sorry that this took so long, I'm getting out of a writer's rut, but this definitely helped me. I hope that this sufficed. I wasn't sure how smutty you wanted it, so I kinda met you in the middle. Steve x Fuckgirl!Reader 18+ mdni; smut-ish, heavy petting, making out, premature orgasm (lol quick Steve), allusions to sex, 4.4k+ words (Jesus h Christ, Im trying I swear)

It was late in Hawkins when you stumbled into the Family Video, sunset spreading golden orange and yellows across the sky. An overhead bell rang above you, signaling your arrival to the near empty store.

“Welcome in,” you heard a far away, meek voice say to you, you looked up to see a brunette girl, hair cut short and over sized vest hanging over her small frame. You raised your eyebrows in a greeting to her, hand waving slightly in her direction. Noticing how she blushed in response and quickly ducked her head, you laughed to yourself, used to those type of reactions from people—women and men alike.

You recognized her from school, a few years younger than you, was in band or something of the sort. Not really your crowd to hang with, but someone you briefly remembered from that time. She ran over to say something to another worker a few feet away from the counter, stumbling over her feet in the process.

Searching through horror films, you were bent at the waist, blue denims squeezing your hips in all the right places. Running your fingers over the VHS cases, you were startled by a hip crashing into the shelf next to you. The man to which it belonged to faked his cool, leaning against the shelf with one elbow, and his other hand running through his hair, smoothing it back into place.

Giving him a once-over with a raised eyebrow, you stood to your full height. He smiled at you, brown puppy dog eyes crinkling behind the size of the grin.

“Welcome to Family Video,” he rushed, sticking a hand out for you to shake. You eyed the hand briefly, smile toying at the corners of your mouth as you reached up to meet it.

“I think she’s got you beat, big boy,” you laughed, nodding your head over to the brunette who leaned over the counter to watch your interaction. Upon noticing you look at her, she turned around quickly, pressing random buttons on the cash register as if she hadn’t been staring.

The man turned to look at her, red blush covering his cheeks. “We just like to give all of our customers equal satisfaction, if you know what I mean.”

You gave him a face, wincing at the attempt of flirting he tried giving you. Turning back to the tapes, you were set on ignoring him, not really interested in his attempt for… whatever this was. He didn’t let up, choosing to straighten up and adjust his collar, fixing his sleeves as you found sudden interest in a description of a movie.

He cleared his throat, “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

His hand shot out again for you to shake, dropping it once he realized he had already done that. The girl’s laughter in the background urged some of your own, this man—Steve—being the worst at flirting you had ever seen in your life.

Clearing his throat, his voice was shaky as he said, “What can I help you find today?”

You briefly looked at him, noticing the confidence he had that flowed off of him. It was in the wrong place though, his flirting, if you could call it that, was all terribly wrong, nothing of the sort that you would expect from someone with his looks. There was something about him though, something that made him seem like he knew what he was doing even if his efforts were being missed. You could tell he had some sort of game, it all being lost on you.

“Think I’m managing just fine here.”

He chewed at the inside of his lip, seemingly wondering how to get around the rejection you gave him, short answers not giving him any room to continue. You grabbed a different movie off the shelf, satisfied with it as you turned to move towards the counter. He blocked your path, chest broad as his arms were crossed over it.

You ran your eyes over his chest, admiring the way the material stretched taut over muscle, showing off biceps you would love to imagine wrapped around you. Smirking up at him, you indulged in the feeling, ready to have some fun with the nervous boy stood in front of you.

“I can give you a few suggestions, hon.” The nickname had you staring up at him, eyebrows shooting up yet again. “Little Shop of Horrors? Really, I don’t think someone like you should be watching that alone.”

You pushed past him, fingers at your side lingering at his waist as you walked up to the counter to rent out. The girl—Robin, her name tag read—moved to help you, only to get knocked out of the way by Steve, his hurried attempt to make it around. Squinting your eyes at him, you shook your head, humour finding you as you realized his attempts wouldn’t stop.

“Watch it, shithead,” she grumbled, bumping him with her shoulder as she replaced him on the floor.

“Good thing I’m not watching it alone,” you smiled up at him, placing an ID on the counter for him to run your information. He said your name out loud, eyebrows wiggling at the mention of it. Rolling your eyes, you continued. “I’ve got a date with Billy Hargrove.”

Your thumb pointed outside, a blue Camaro parked outside the store that he noticed for the first time. Its loud engine could be heard from inside the store, rumbling so deeply you could feel it if you stopped long enough. His face fell, fingers faltering at the computer as he looked over at you.

“Billy? Seriously?”

You giggled, leaning across the counter as you decided to play into the game he was attempting—yet failing so miserably at. You smirked as his eyes dipped at your chest, noticing the way your low scooped top exposed more than it should’ve of. He tried to cover it up, clearing his throat as he made his return to the computer.

“Oh shit, did you have a date with him too?”

The look he gave you was incredulous, eyes deadpan as they cut to you.

“I’m just saying… not the best option,” he pointed to the tape in front of you, “to watch on a date with Hawkin’s worst option.”

You leaned even further, voice dropping lower. “Yeah, I don’t think the plan is to exactly… watch the movie.”

His face flushed as he turned to look at you, sliding the ID back over to you. Your eyes were hungry as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, audible gulp filling the room. This was your favorite part about being the town’s “most eligible bachelorette”, watching people crumble around you even when you did nothing.

“Well, what are you doing after?” He leaned into your space, face closer to yours as he tried mustering up the confidence he once had. “Bet I could show you a better time than that Hargrove guy.”

A small tapping sound filled the tense air as your fingers moved across the counter, imitating a walking motion with your index and middle. You trailed them up to Steve, ‘walking’ them up his body until you met the junction of his jaw, hand reaching out to lightly rub him on the cheek.

Your fingers traced the light dusting of stubble, feeling the prick of the hairs underneath your fingertips. His eyes were focused on you as you touched him, eyes low with a glimmer behind them.

“Is that so, Steve Harrington?” You pouted at him, his eyes clouding over as your hand ran across his cheek to trial to his hair. The sound of his name on your lips had him gaping, teeth running across the expanse of his bottom lip. Giving his hair a light tug, he leaned into it, mouth dropping as you removed it, placing it back onto the counter.

You leaned in closer to his face, inches away from his mouth as he subconsciously moved closer to you as well. From the close proximity, you could feel his breath on your lips, the scent of spearmint hitting you. His eyes remained low, fixated on your mouth.

Right as he leaned in to close the distance, you moved away. “Maybe next week I could pencil you in, I’ve got another date at 10. Busy gal.”

You gave him the fakest smile you could manage, grabbing the tape before turning on your heel. Making your way to the door, you turned around once more, noticing the way his eyes were glued to your hips.

“I’ll be back Friday,” you said, his eyes shooting up to yours. He seemed stuck in a trance, mouth parted into an ‘o’ as he stared at you, deep red flushed across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. That Robin girl stood in the distance, her own look of shock present on her face as she apparently had been watching the entire interaction. “You know, return policy and all.”

You spun around, swinging the door open as you exited. Robin’s voice was the last you heard in the store, ‘The Scoops legacy continues.’ Billy’s car revved at you, engine blaring through as you swung your body inside.

“Took long enough, sweetheart?” His sunglasses were low on his nose as he looked over them at you. You fought the eye roll you wanted to give him, the smacks he gave to his gum overwhelming you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, coy smile on your lips as you reached a hand to place on his thigh. His foot hit the gas again, revving the vehicle as you trailed your fingers over his groin. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

The speed in which he pulled out of the parking lot was nearly comical, your head slamming back into the head rear as tires screeched on black asphalt. Thoughts of the Harrington boy filled your mind as your plans with Billy became closer to reality, he wasn’t supposed to be in there—wasn’t supposed to be clouding your judgement especially when your entire MO was not to let anything linger.

The doorbell rang as you were in the middle of throwing a shirt on over your exposed chest, the final bit of credits rolling from the horror movie you picked out. Irritation pricked at the back of your neck, figuring it was Billy, returning due to forgetting something or to finish the job.

Marching over to the front door, you prepared to yell at the blond. You had kicked him out of your place, frustrated as he had a few too many to get it up. He had been pushing at you for weeks, practically begging to get a date with you, and the second he got one, it ended like this. It was disappointing to say the least, yet what was to be expected every now and then from the pick of Hawkins.

Throwing the door open, you hissed, “What do you want, Bill—oh.”

A pleasant surprise. It was Steve, red flowers in one hand and a VHS tape in the other. He looked nervous yet hopeful, tight blue jeans and a crisp polo, covered by a black jacket. Tilting your head, you looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to be at your doorstep. Let alone, not knowing how he even got your address in the first place.

“So, this is the right place,” he beamed, stepping through the front door as you moved to the side, too shocked to even question it.

You closed the front door, following him into the living room as he turned to give you the flowers. You accepted them, looking down at them in shock as he became suddenly nervous, teeth returning to his bottom lip to chew.

Your mouth sputtered briefly, “What is—how did you—Steve, what are you doing here?”

He clasped his hands in front of himself, teetering on his feet as he nervously gazed at you. You felt slightly exposed, a foreign feeling, as you stood there in a plain white t-shirt and pajama bottoms. You crossed your hands at your chest, pushing down the feeling as he stood in front of you. Straightening your posture, your eyebrow arched at him, throat clearing away the thought of him looking so good in front of you.

“Well, you said you were hanging out with Billy to watch, y’know—“ his thumb pointed to the TV, his mouth quirking at the corners awkwardly, “and that’s only like an hour, 30. Then, you said you had a date at 10, leaving you a few hours to, uhh, hang or… something. Busy gal, ya know?”

The repeated words from earlier had you blushing this time, a smile crossing your face as he made himself comfortable. You tried to immediately get rid of it, a step out of character from your usual when it came to boys. His face flushed as he held up the tape he was holding: Fast Times at Ridgemont High. You stared at it and him, eyes jumping back and forth.

“Fast Times. Short runtime. Perfect duo, if you ask me,” he smiled, hair falling into his face as he stepped a bit closer to you. You laughed at him, feeling too shocked to even argue with him.

You led him into the living room, taking the tape into his hands before setting it up in the player. He fell onto the couch with a sigh, leg shaking nervously as he looked around the living room. You made your way over to him, sitting next to him as he looked at you, smile wider than ever.

“How did you know where I lived?” The TV was loud as it started, the two of you jumping at it. The two of you laughed as you realized you had ended up a bit closer to him, hand resting on his thigh. Removing it, you settled back into the couch, clearing your throat as you tried to remain cool. You didn’t like this, how Steve made you nervous despite not doing anything. That was supposed to be your role, he was supposed to be the one falling to your feet.

“What do you think we need your ID for over at the store?”

Shaking your head, you took a good look at him, noticing the way the man had moles dotted around his face, marking him in perfect places. In this moment, you did recognize who he was, him being a year below you when you used to run Hawkins High. He had stepped up to bat by the time you hit your junior year, rumors of him running rampant around the school. Based on this version of him that stood in front of you, you couldn’t tell what had happened to him—where his confidence and irresistible charm had gone.

“You’re so—“

“Smart?” He finished for you, blushing. “Nah, I can’t take credit for that. It’s all Robin, she’s, like, my wing-woman at this point.”

As the movie started, he began to relax, settling into the couch, and his palms rubbed the cloth over his knees, legs parted. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, yet body turned to him, engaged in conversation that allowed you to get to know the man in front of you. The movie was a blur in the background, the two of you facing each other, inches away with hands just shy of touching each other.

The landline rang, pulling you out of the conversation, Steve’s gaze lingering on you for a second too long as you contemplated picking it up.

“You’re not going to get that?” The drop in his voice had you distracted, mind wanting to hear just how low it could get.

“Uhhh… I’m just going to let it go,” you answered, leaning into him. The phone went silent, his eyes briefly darting to it before returning to you. You were much closer to him now, your tongue licking at the corner of your mouth. “Can I try something, Steve?”

“Uh huh,” he whispered, hand shooting up to place on your cheek as you leaned in. Your lips met, two pairs of eyes fluttering shut. He was soft, lips fitting snug into the shape of yours, tongue warm as it found its way into your mouth.

“You’re gonna get it now?” He muttered against your lips with a slight smile, pressing soft kisses to you. You hadn’t even noticed the phone was ringing again, too caught up in the way his fingers felt in your hair, the other planted softly at the base of your neck.

“I guess I should,” you didn’t even open your eyes, continuing the kiss as you began to straddle him, pressing him into the plush couch cushion. The phone went silent once more, only to be ringing again, in what seemed like a more urgent matter if that was even possible.

“For fuck’s sake,” you exclaimed, pushing off of him as you stormed over to it. “Who is it?”

Steve’s face was flushed, his hands adjusting his hair and pulling at the rumbled front of his shirt. He sat up slowly, pressing the back of his hand to his cheeks to cool them as he began to notice how flustered he had become. You trailed your eyes over him from across the room, hunger in your eyes.

“Oh, Billy—hey.”

The name had Steve stiffening, his face dropping as you continued the phone call. He directed his attention to the television once more, pretending to tune out the conversation, yet you knew he was listening.

Billy’s words in your ear were droning on, a blabber of speech that sounded strikingly similar to the parents in the Peanuts cartoons. You fought the eye roll, even if he couldn’t see it, you had to save face in front of Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, babe…” You spoke to him, putting up your best good girl voice that normally works in this situation. Steve’s head ticked slightly in your direction, eyes squinting barely. “Of course, we can try again. Anytime.”

Steve stood up, hands dusting over his jean pockets as he dug his foot into the carpet. He seemed as if he didn’t know what to do with himself, hands moving from in his pockets to outside to crossed at his chest to finally rest at his hips. He cleared his throat, you pulled the phone away from your ear to listen for his next words.

“Hey, uhh, I think I’m going to get going,” he muttered, face flushed as he pointed his thumb towards the front door. As he went to go turn, you hung up on Billy, ignoring his shout of protest as it hit the hook.

“Wait! You’re leaving?” You asked, rushing over to him as his back was turned to you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, fingers urging him to sit down before you returned to your previous position, knees caging in his hips, your bum pressed firm into his lap. His fingers came to rest at your fingers, spread wide over the expanse of skin, slightly pushing up your pajama top.

“I… you seemed busy,” he sounded distracted as you began to press kisses to his neck. His head hit the back cushion, hips rutting up into yours before he could even think of it. You ground down on him, a roll of your hips pulling a guttural moan from him.

“Can’t we have some fun first, Steve?”

His eyes fluttered shut at your hips worked magic over his, the bulge in his jeans growing by the second as your fingers explored his chest, finally feeling the firm press of muscle beneath them. Meeting his lips again, you pushed the kiss further, licking into his mouth with a fervor behind it.

He placed a hand in your hair, pulling you into him as your chest pressed against him, pants escaping your mouths.

“It’s okay, Steve,” You whispered against his mouth, arching up into him. He was beyond hard in this moment, grinding up into you as you worked him, movements slow, yet calculated over him. “I’m yours for tonight.”

He nodded into the kiss, pulling his hand towards the front of your sleep shorts, fingers dipping below the waist band to brush over your pubic bone. You gasped at the feeling, head pulling away from him to look down at his hand disappearing behind your shorts. His fingers brushed over you, slight pressure applied to your clothed clit.

You arched into the touch, your own hand coming to rub at the front of his pants, brushing over his bulge pressing at the front. The two of you became breathless, heavy pants filling the room as you rubbed at each other. His fingers moved in circles over you, the material of your panties separating the skin-on-skin contact dampening with each movement.

“You know, I’ve—“ his voice was strained, caught in his throat as he spoke, eyes low as he looked up at you on top of him. “I’ve always had a crush on y—“

You kissed him again, swallowing his words as the confession left your mouth. Your heart began to pound in your chest, arousal briefly leaving at the words. That was something you didn’t do, no, definitely not. He wasn’t going to sit here, look pretty as he fell apart, and confess his true feelings for you.

His breath hitched even further as you slipped your hand into the waistband of his jeans, gripping him through the thin material of his boxers. Fuck, of course, he’s huge, you thought to yourself. His looks, of course, weren’t enough for him.

The grasp on him had him mewling, hips coming up off the couch as you felt around, giving him light tugs. He tried keeping up the movements with his own fingers on you, failing as he fell apart under your touch. With a low moan, his hips stilling as he came, eyes squeezed shut with his chest heaving rapidly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tongue darting out to dampen his red, kiss-swollen lips. You kissed its traces, giggling at him as he opened his eyes to meet you. You were tempted to sit there for a moment, get lost in the deep amber of his eyes, find yourself a home there. That wasn’t your MO, you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.

You pulled yourself from him, clambering off of him as you adjusted the front of your clothing. Glancing back at the tape forgotten on the tv, the credits began to roll, the distorted flashing of the Ridgemont Mall showing on screen.

“Hey, you didn’t even—“

You cut him off, smiling as you began to walk towards the tape, turning it off as you spoke, “You better get going.”

You handed him the tape, tucked into its sleeve as he sat on the couch, shirt ruffled up, pants loose at the waist, dark patch wet at the front. He glanced down at himself, embarrassment flooding his cheeks at the state he was in.

“What about…” He didn’t finish his words, shaking his head as he stood up off the couch. You sat in silence with one another as he fixed himself, his hands running through tendrils that lay across his forehead.

Walking him to the front door, you chewed at your bottom lip, feet shuffling under you as he stood in the door frame. You avoided eye contact, hand clasped on the door as he stood there, searching for something to say. You felt if you looked at him, you would cave, would give in to feelings that you knew would be bad for you.

“Could I, at least, see you again?”

The sound of his voice had you looking at him, heart beating faster as he looked so sincere with the porch light casting a halo around him. He looked unraveled, yet in the best way, cheeks still coloured red from his high.

You went to shake your head, wanted to explain your thing when it came to situations like this, yet you found yourself pausing in the movement. His confession earlier stung at you, eating away at a part of you that was surprising to even be there in the first place. Reluctantly, you nodded, ignoring the beam he gave you immediately.

“Friday,” you supplied, knuckles lightening in color as you gripped the wood. As he opened his mouth to speak, you covered it quickly, “Return policy and all.”

The joy was gone from him, smile falling just as quickly as he gave it to you. If there was any time for you to feel like a villain, it was now—this opportunity feeling like taking candy from a child. Only it was worse. Yet he had to know this was just how you operated, his own rumors that once circled the town not straying far from your own. Turning on his heel, his head was low as he made his way down your walkway.

Slowly, you shut the door behind him, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned to rest your forehead against it. The feeling of guilt in your chest was inexcusable, the length of time you had even known this boy too short to make up for it. His confession earlier lingered in your brain, wondering what might have happened if you urged him on, pressing details of his crush.

You fought the thoughts for the rest of the night, ignoring them as you were pressed into the back seat of another boy’s car at Lover’s Lake. Had to focus on the feeling of the stranger’s hands on you, the feeling of him inside of you as windows became steamier, clothes were shed. Notches on your belt were what they seemed, nothing too much to think about as you ignored the gnawing in your chest.

Friday came and went, Robin standing behind the counter as you pressed the tape over the counter into her hands. The boy that remained on your mind was nowhere to be seen, missing from the floor as your eyes searched the heads appearing in between aisles of films. And if when you asked about his whereabouts and Robin gave you an answer alluding to him coming down with something, you definitely did not fight the feeling to be upset, figuring it was just as much nothing to him as it was to you. You didn’t call Billy back that night, didn’t pretend it was Steve instead who was kissing you, arching you down in a way you would’ve loved to be with him with.

Next Part.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

Barnaby facts (confirmed by the devs)

Hello! Since I was bored and it's making me so happy to see Barnaby getting so much love lately, I've decided to collect all the info I have about him! I most likely missed something, so if you have info I haven't put here, or got wrong, let me know, ok? ^^

Anyhoo, here we go! **}

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Barnaby, despite his name, is not a barn owl. He's actually a long eared owl.

- Barnaby isn't his real name; he used to have a different one, back in his alive days. One of the drawings featuring him has him surrounded by many names starting with "B".

- Said illustration has "Who am I?" hidden among the names and words such as "Where" and "Help", hinting at something linked to his identity is torturing him.

- It's been stated that Barnaby is the way he is because of a dangerous experiment that corrupted then killed him, changing him completely as a result.

- Barnaby is asexual homoromantic, and is genderfluid: while he goes primarly by "he/him", he accepts any pronoun.

- He considers his Barnaboos as his "little pretties", and often offers help or advice if they need it; of course, his help may not be as helpful as he believes...

- He hates cheesecake.

- He's not a fan of rootbeer neither; he will serve it in his parties, but he personally won't drink it.

- His favorite food is eye scream, and favorite Halloween treat are caramel apples.

- As for ice cream, his favorite flavor is Strawberry Shortcake.

- Speaking of food, yeah, he doesn't need to eat, nor sleep. But still likes doing it anyway.

- Barnaby is a confirmed sleepyhead. He naps a lot, but never in an ordinary position, or in his bed; he tends to sleep in various gravity bending position, especially upside down.

- Meaning, yes, when Billie comes to steal his gem, he was sleeping!

- And when he sleeps, he apparently snores and hoots.

- While hugging him would result in a kill from him, Ash confirmed Barnaby is a hugger! Hugging him would still involve him squeezing or stabbing you to death, tho'. And he'd feel both soft and slimy to the touch.

- Barnaby is around 10-11ft tall, and with his size-shifting abilities, he can be any height he wants; when he was alive tho', he's as tall as Aristotle, more or less.

- He doesn't need glasses anymore, but sometimes will wear them because they make him look smart. They also tend to follow the eyes' movements.

- Barnaby is very emotional: while it won't stop him from trying to kill you, he will cry if he sees you cry. Ironically, he would comfort you until you feel better. Then he'll kill you.

- It's been confirmed that Barnaby's biggest fear has "already come true".

- His tears are orange, just like his eyes.

- Barnaby is not one to open his heart easily, but the moment he does, there's many ways to reach it. He's quite romantic, tho' not in the usual way: if you gave him a dead rat, he'd consider it a very romantic gesture!

- It's been stated he doesn't have a partner now, but in life, "maybe".

- When it comes to children, it's been confirmed he'd be the best caregiver alongside Dutch, althought for him "it's complicated".

- He apparently had a child of his own, if the picture posted about him during "Father's Day" is any indication. What happened to the little one hasn't been revealed yet.

- Apparently he's the least judgemental character in BBU!

- If he had a TV, it'd be old timey, and he'd watch something really random. Like ducks.

- Barnaby loves small critters; Ash specifically mentions they always linked him with guinea pigs. And indeed, Barnaby had a science guinea pig co-worker once, that turned into an actual guinea pig because of a reckless experiment, and he took care of them.

- He's able to control reality; it's unclear if it's his gem's doing, or his magic power as a ghost.

- In any case, he's now the most powerful character in the game

- Back in his alive days, he was a magic researcher and scientist.

- He actually owned the gem before he turned into a ghost. He even experimented on it, and it's suggested that actually sealed his fate.

- A lot of songs from Oingo Boingo and Lemon Demon fit him: Ash specifically mentioned "Weird Science" as really "Barnabycore"

- Barnaby is autistic: he stims by hooting and flapping his wings when he's excited.

- When he's scared or nervous, he tends to cover himself with his wings.

- Katie said that, if he were a candy, he'd be a sour blueberry.

- Barnaby lives in his own dimension, with his own mansion and everything. And he can travel between realities. Although one comment from Katie suggests he's trapped in there, but it's too early to say for sure.

- According to the devs, he was inspired by Weird Al Yankovic, Lewis from Mystery Skulls and Discord from MLP.

- No, he wasn't inspired by Snatcher, since the development of BBU has lasted longer than A Hat in Time. The two of them canonically know each other tho': only problem is, Snatcher hates Barnaby's guts and finds him too clingy, while the owl adores him.

- He canonically knows Wally Darling from "Welcome Home" and Kira from "Far Fetched" too, since he can travel between realities.

- Barnaby has his guests come to his home by portals that pop just below them. He apparently has kidnapped people before, every once in a while.

- He'd get along well with Dutch.

- It's left vague whether he knows Fantoccio or not.

- He actually has never met Arthur nor Aristotle before the game.

- In any case, he'd find Aristotle really funny, and wouldn't take them seriously.

-- Barnaby is aware of the player, and can break the 4th wall. And that's why only he can use Twitter.

- Whenever he writes on Twitter, hE WRiTSE LIkE THIS!!!

- Barnaby is REALLY mischeavous, and finds no problem in cheating in games. But if YOU cheat, then he gets ticked off.

- This suggests he's also a sore loser.

- Judging by his expression in the cutscene, he doesn't like being interrupted.

- It's been confirmed he smells like meldew. :P

- He could fake glitching out, then attack the moment you come to check out what's going on with him.

- He HATES party crashers. Also scarecrows: not good for conversations. And he's not interested in their crops.

- He can play the organ: Katie even suggested that if you hear it in the background of his chapter, that's him playing it.

- He was a young prodigy, back when he was alive!

- Don't be fooled by his goofy antics: he's very smart, still loves making experiments and can speak a lot of languages.

- Ironically, he hates skulls: he finds them icky.

- He was 25-26 when he died; he's been dead for 100+ years.

- Time is very important for him: that's why there's so many clocks in his parlor. It's been suggested he sees partying as a way to keep track with time.

- Despite that, Barnaby himself in the contest video has briefly stated he tends to forget what year it is.

- There's tons of pictures in his manor: all of them depict him, suggesting he's good at painting.

- Katie has noted that Barnaby "remembers everything". When asked if there's something he'd rather forget, they stated that "what he wants and what he needs are very different things".

- His family is "infinite", apparently. Then again, one of his very early descriptions stated he's got no friends nor family to speak about...

- He's been described as "self interested"

- When asked which character had the most trauma, without giving hints about being traumatized, Katie confirmed Barnaby as the answer, even stating his story makes them the saddest, alongside Fanto's.

- His favorite color is pink!

- He can change himself into lots of animals, and can even clone himself!

- When asked if he can talk to his alive self, Katie said it's "technically possible".

- Back when he was alive, he was noted as a dork and a hardworker, so much so he'd even pull one-nighters before making speeches for his research. Katie jokingly suggested that's why he parties so much: it's to make up for lost time!

- He had a different way of speaking, back when he was alive. And his icks were probably different as well.

- When he gets overwhelmed, he has a shutdown, and goes completely silent.

- At early stages, Barnaby was supposed to be a bug.

- The moment his design as a ghost was chosen, he went through a lot of palette options, like a pale blue color like he came from "The Haunted Mansion", or all colorful like "Dia de los Muertos". Ultimately they settled for his currently shadowy look because, not only it's easier to animate, it was in line with his backstory.

- Barnaby can melt. It's still unclear what triggers such a reaction, but some pictures hint that it's tied to his psychological state.

- Barnaby has been noted that he can talk fancy, but he's not eloquent.

- His favorite dance is the charleston!

- Ash has stated that in the game he is going to be depicted doing something similiar to "singing himself to sleep".

- Apparently he still makes pellets from his mouth. Dead or not, he's still an owl.

- He often puts emphasis on words, sometimes even making his bowtie spin.

- In the latest Twitter post featuring him, when you decode the garbled message, you can read: "Barnaby lies Along in his thoughts, Resting On the floor Neglected". Not only this hints at his turmoil, it also hides the word "BARON". It's unclear if it's his name, a title he possessed, or someone or thing else entirely connected to him.

- He loves recieving scretches on his head.

- Barnaby can cook, but he'll more often than not leave that to the Barnaboos.

- He's not that interested in gardening, even tho' he owns a greenhouse.

- He'd enjoy playing "Luigi's Mansion"!

- In Super Smash Bros. he'd main Meta Knight, even relating to him.

- He'd happily accept smoochies, apparently!

- His favorite party game is "Pin the tail on the owl".

- If you are his friend, he'd consider it even more of a reason to stay in the manor and never leave!

- He has claimed that he's used to give himself self love and compliments, since no one else does it. That, and his tendency to ask others for hugs or if they need a hug to calm down, suggests he's affection starved.

- He tends to react to compliments from fans by smiling bashfully, or happily shouting that he's popular.

- Katie stated that his favorite movie would be something unexpected, like "Marnie & Me" or "Up".

- Barnaby can see everything from the eyes of the plushies that look like him. So, if you bought one... watch out...

- Among his early designs, he also looked like a completely different owl, tall and austere looking, who was the guardian of the forest. It was changed because the devs wanted a goofy boss that could stand out among the others.

- Having said that, it seems Barnaby was the last boss to be officially revealed, and initially the game only had Elaine, Dutch and Fantoccio as the main bosses.

- Barnaby LOVES puns. A good deal of the lines he says when you get defeated in his chase contain a pun.

- You try being slick by stating you want to die of old age? Too bad: Barnaby will make you age rapidly. Despite that, Katie confirmed he doesn't have time related powers...

- Katie and Ash confirmed Barnaby can fly. And such a sight is apparently really hilarious.

- Barnaby loves shiny trinkets: if he sees a sparkly thread, he'll fixate on it and will follow its movements. It's like with a cat following a laser.

- Barnaby has teeth; they're orange and sharp, and come out when he's ticked off, or especially devious.

- When he was alive, he only used he/him pronouns. He became comfortable with all pronouns after he died. He's always been interested in men.

- This goes without saying, but still: he operates on cartoon logic. He can use both his wings AND his feet as hands. Even both feet can act as hands, even when they appear off camera. How? Because it's Barnaby and he can do anything he sets his mind into!

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Within cells, interlinked (Miguel O’Hara x Ai/Hologram! Fem! reader) Part 1

Hiii! Very excited about this bad boy, this is inspired by K and Joi’s relationship in bladerunner 2049, and this panel from 90’s run of the Spider-Man 2099 comics. Also there is some heavily implied (at the very least one sided) holofang (Miguel x Lyla) at the beginning, if that isn’t your cup of tea, then I’m sorry but that’s how I wrote it. Not proofread, enjoy!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Implied (one sided???) holofang, Lyla is like basically dead, mentions of sex work, cursing, Miguel being a sad lonely lonely man, ansty (if you squint), Miguel being a little mad scientist like at the end. Tbh idk really know what to tag these as.

Word count: 3k

Part 2

Masterlist

Playlist I listened to while writing

—

Neuva York 2099.

A dystopian wasteland that was once a pristine and other worldly city. But, like every other beautiful thing, it would be destined to fall, thanks to Kingpin, who now had the city under his thumb. Straile white buildings that once stood tall, crumpled and decayed, being replaced slowly but surely with dark titanium steel. Holographic projections filled the sides of ugly skyscrapers, advertising anything and everything, ranging from restaurants and video games to Ai women and cyborg upgrades.

Miguel’s original Ai assignment was unfortunately no longer functional, her software having been corrupted due to a virus that was released onto Miguel’s suit during a fight with Doc ock, Miguel having no other choice but to terminate her software, putting her out of her misery. It not only set Miguel back from his usual tasks as Spider-Man and his work at Alchemax, but the whole spider society, Lyla being the one who controlled the whole mainstream to the entire operation, along with help from Spider-Byte, but she couldn’t run the whole society technology wise, she had a life outside of her role there.

If Miguel had the time, he would have done what he had done the first time, and redesign her from scratch, raising her from her nonexistent grave. However, he knew he didn’t have the time. He had spent months programming her, not to mention the years it took for him to upgrade her into what she had become. It’s only been a week, and he could already see the cracks that were forming without her to hold it all together. His universe was already in disarray, he didn’t need another thing to crumble into dust in his hands.

The walk from the Alchemax back to his apartment was meant to help him clear his head, but it only dampened his mood more, bitter cold air and large dark clouds rolling in slowly, threatening to pour down on the decile city. Keeping his head held high and eyes forward despite his desire to go deep into a dark alleyway and swing the rest of the way home, keeping the tension in his temples build up with every sleazy salesperson attempting to sell him a sketchily low price for random gadgets that he was certain was stolen, or sex workers attempting to coax him into a small brothel. All kinds of lives walked past him as he ventured home, humans, cyborgs, full robots and AI holographic companions, a million life stories that could be told.

Less and less began to cross his path as he neared his apartment building, eye bags dark and sunken in as he turned his head to the left, he was now alone on the sidewalk, stopping as he put his hand on the railing that lined the evaluated walkway, he remembered not even 10 years ago, that very spot would look out to a beautiful pond, small ducks that pattered around, families gathering around to have little outings, ones that Miguel only ever really dreamed of. Now, all that was a ginormous digital billboard that would switch advertisers every week or so. Although he never really expected they’d project the one that was on display now. He had to squint a bit so that the now dripping rain didn’t get into his eyes as he watched the projection.

“The perfect companion, the perfect coworker, the perfect partner. Joi, your personal Ai. Everything you want to hear, everything you want to see.” The sentences rotated between each other over and over, Miguel stayed silent as he stared mindless at the naked back of the large Ai hologram, their skin admitting a light glow as she sensually ran her hands through her hair. Despite the words “companion” and “coworker” showing up on the ad, it was painfully obvious what the holographic woman was really meant for.

Still, he caught himself unable to look away, despite seeing the ads hundreds of times prior to this moment. He didn’t even register when the Ai had turned around and squatted in front him, making it so the two were at eye level.

“Hello handsome.” His eyes finally drifted up to meet hers once she spoke, he wasn't very fond of the default version they often used on most of their ads, so seeing this version in front of him was a lot more of a nicer sight to see. “What a day hmm?” When he didn’t respond she just came closer, “you look lonely… I could fix that…” She whispered with a head tilt, “you look like a good Joi…” before getting back up and moving away from Miguel once more.

Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was his way of pretending he wasn’t mourning an algorithm, maybe it was just him being tired of carrying everything on his shoulders, still… his eyes slowly went down to his orange watch, moving it in front of the bare glowing figure, before his free hand slowly hovered over the watch, hesitating for a moment, before pressing purchase.

—

Once Miguel got home he spent the next hour or so reworking your programming, jailbreaking and removing restrictions, wanting to make sure you were prepared to handle the society’s system before he even turned you on to make sure you wouldn’t crash the second you were hooked up to it.

Eventually, once everything ran to meet his expectations, he stood back and waited for you to appear in front of him. Waiting impatiently as he watched the small loading circle chase itself until you appeared, although you weren’t fully “awake” still, eyes closed, head slumped forwards and arms hung limply to your sides. Still needing to be given a name, an outfit and if he desired to change anything from your physical appearance he could. He decided to keep your assets the same, and placed a simple outfit on you, deciding if you ever evolved enough to be sentient on the same level as Lyla was, that he’d give you free range to change it. For a name though, it was a bit harder of a choice.

Maybe it was him having his previous one for as long as he did, but he wanted you to be… different, then her, a name that wasn’t, well, Lyla. Something nice and pleasant to say, but not simple enough for him to forget in the midst of him in a fight. After some pondering, he finally typed in the name into his watch and pressed the “finalized model”. Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he saw your head slowly begin to lift and your eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Hello Miguel.” You said him a smile.

“Hello (Y/N).” His lips twitched upwards for half a second.

—

It took a while for your program to adjust and be accustomed to the database, he never realized how much strain he put on his older Ai until he watched you try and accommodate the same thing, yet then again, he built it all around her, instead of vise versa. It wasn’t just you who had needed some time to adjust though. The amount of times that spiders (including Jessica and Miguel) would call for Lyla still instead of you was starting to… annoy you for lack of a better term.

You had been patient at first, appearing despite the slip up, simply correcting the person who called for you and going on with the request, then it seems that the patience started to run thin. Rolling your eyes or letting out snarky little remarks, then eventually you just started to not respond unless they called you by your actual name, which only led you landing yourself in a lecture from Miguel, being threatened to reboot your system. Him ranting about how it could be dangerous or something, after the first few times, it stops being fear insulating, once you even let out a yawn at his usual lecture. A yawn. How close he was to throwing his desk across his office.

The longer you stuck around the more knowledge you gather, the more self-aware you become, mimicking human thoughts and emotions, reading anything you could get your digital little hands on. From the words of Ancient Greek philosophers to thousands of different articles on how the human brain works, what different areas controlled what. You found humans quite interesting, such complex yet flawed creatures, you can understand why so many filmmakers and authors who write science fiction have some odd variation of robots wanting to either become humans or destroy them.

It’s almost cliche, but you can’t help but develop the same fascination with Miguel. How could you not? You were quite literally around him 24/7, you could tell he wanted to be taken care of when he wasn’t taking care of everything himself, and who were you as his assistant to refuse?

—

“Welcome back Miguel.” You smiled as you appeared next to the door before he could even step foot through its threshold. Your eyes followed him as he took his shoes off and threw his keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, landing with a loud clunk.

“I just saw you back at HQ.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him before he made his way to his kitchen, “It's been 20 minutes.” He added as he turned the corner, being met with you already there, leaning against the counter as his coffee machine was already pouring him a new cup in his favorite mug, with the stove being lit on for him to place his left overs onto to warm up.

“Being greeted when you arrive home helps boost your overall well-being.” You quipped, which only gained a small hum of acknowledgement as he placed a pot of bistec on top of the open flame, and a bowl of leftover white rice in the microwave.

“It could also help boost my overall well-being if you didn’t act like such a brat half the time.” He countered back as he stirred the streak and potatoes to make sure it didn’t burn before turning to face you, meeting you with that all too familiar smirk he always gave you. You were quick to mirror it. “You're supposed to make my life easier, ya know?” Despite it being a rhetorical question, your smirk only widely more.

A silence fell over the kitchen as he goes back to focusing on his food, you just stay there, watching as he made quick work fixing his plate, mumbled a small “sorry” to you everytime he would “bump into you” (as Miguel liked to call it) despite him only passing through your holographic body as he grabs the plate and cup of coffee and goes it set it down at the table, making sure to be fast as to not hold onto the gradually warming glass crockery long enough to burn his rough hands.

With a sigh, he sat down in front of his plate as he heard the faint noise of your projection deactivated from the kitchen, leaving him alone in the quiet home of his. He’s fork moving around the contains on his plate, piercing the potatoes and steak but never lifting it up to bite into the steaming meal. After a few more moments of playing with his food, he placed his fork back down, keeping his eyes down on his plate despite him lifting his head up.

“(Y/N).” He called out after cleaning his throat.

“Yes?” Your voice called back out, ringing through his apartment as he waited for you to reappear, only to let out a huff when you didn’t.

“…have dinner with me?” When he finally looked back up, he was met with you already in the chair across from him, a digital plate of food replicating his in front of you. His lips twitched up as he whispered a light thank you for entertaining his wish, even down to mimicking eating as you both sat there, his eyes never leaving yours.

After his appetite was satiated, and the dish were washed, he wander to his living room, being met with the sight of you already being sat down on one of the small leather accent chair that sat to the right of the coffee table, a small orange tablet-like screen being held in your hands as you tampered away on it, most likely readjusting tomorrow's schedule or researching more on some random topic you found interesting. Leaning against the doorway, he couldn't help but watch you, admire you. He found it humorous that you chose to physically sit down and read about topics even though you were built with the knowledge of practically everything. It made you feel more… real. It made him feel less insane when he found comfort in your company.

“Would you like me to leave you alone mig?” You asked after a second, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you. His heart stopped for half a second when you called him by the nickname as he shook his head.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked as he made his way towards you, stopping once he was close enough that if you had a physical being, his legs would have been touching your knees. (What are you doing?)

“Just going over your suit diagnostics, I’ve noticed that it’s been lagging a bit.” You hummed, not even fazed by the close proximity.

“…(Y/N).”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.” He commanded, but his tone is still somewhat soft with the order, your screen evaporating from your hands as you went to meet his gaze. He hesitated for a moment, leaving his dry lips before finally continuing. “You know, I feel like I don’t appreciate you enough.”

“Miguel, I’m your Ai assistant, my whole purpose is to help make your life easier.” You couldn’t help the slight snark that came seeping through your sentence, causing him to let out a scoff and playful eye roll.

“That’s not what I mean, you know that.” He countered with a head tilt, his hands sliding over his thighs and finding their way into his front jean pockets.

“What do you mean then?”

“What do you think I meant?” Now it was you who let out an eye roll as you huffed.

“Miguel, you know I can’t ‘think’. I’m not human, I can simply process and collect information and recite it back. I speak only in facts and unbiased sources.”

He couldn’t help but hate it when you talked like that during casual conversation, despite the deadpan look in your eyes and the small sass in your infliction, it only reminded him that you weren’t real. The only difference from your body and air, was that you were a set of ones and zeros. He could swat a hand through your body and you would simply glitch around it as it interrupted your coding and it attempted to adjust around him, how for once, he wishes that when he would “bump into you” that he would be met with solid flesh, you stumbling back a bit while you scold him, his hand coming around to met the small of your back to help re-stabilize your footing as he lets out a small chuckle.

“Don’t be a smartass with me (Y/N). You know, most humans I know don’t have the ability to think either, and they for sure aren’t as nearly intelligent or knowledgeable as you are. If they can form an option then you can too.” He was met with your face contorting in confusion, a rare expression on your face, one he appreciated when he got the opportunity to witness it. “I want you to think, give me an original thought. Not a statistic, not a fact. Think for yourself (Y/N).” The was a pause before your lips parted.

“I… I think…”

“Thaaaat’s it…” He leaned forward, his face close to yours as he encouraged you to continue in a low whisper. “I think?”

“I think… that if I was a human, that… that I would be in love with you Miguel.”

Oh.

“(Y/N).”

“Yes Miguel?”

“Shut off.”

“Yes Miguel.”

Within a blink, you were gone. His hands came out from his pockets with a heavy sigh, before he rubbed his face and ran them through his hair, causing the semi-neatly slicked back hair to become desiveled. Glancing around the now empty living room, the small constant buzzing from your hologram now being replaced with the gentle tapping of the rain against his window.

Miguel O’Hara was truly a lonely man. A man with weaknesses and flaws despite himself, a man with feelings, and vulnerabilities and emotions. Miguel O’Hara was just a man, just a human. A human who wanted to be loved. To not be seen as some sort of emotionless being, the irony wasn’t lost on him that the only thing that seemed to really care for him, and see him in that way was something that wasn’t even programmed with actual emotions. Oh how he wished you were real, how you were human.

He couldn’t turn you into a human, but he could get close.

With a sigh he entered his home office, the only room he had restricted giving you access to appearing in. Closing the door behind him before leaning against the door, his eyes instantly finding themselves stuck on the limb on the table. An arm to be more specific, the synthetic flesh that matched your complexion wrapped around its exoskeleton. It took him almost a month to do just one arm, and although the time length of that he estimated for this project was a bit more lengthy then he’d like, if it meant getting every minuscule and minute detail perfected, he’ll take all the time in the world for it. He’d make sure it was perfect, that you’d be prefect.

—

Tags: @oscarissac2099

[bloodpen-to-paper]

Qsmp Finale Moments That Take Me Back to the Start (And Other Things I Enjoyed)

-Pre-stream chatting between streamers and their chats. Friendly teasing, funny donos, and talk about what's gonna happen next

-Quackity and Pol chatting while Bagi tries to kill Mike in the background. Q and Vegetta talking about using the plane to go to Andorra while Foolish yells about having a bomb to Cellbit and Tina. The chaos of people doing something crazy while others have calm conversations on the side

-The feeling before an event stream, when you're waiting for the timer to count down as you listen to the cinematic music. You and the others in chat, holding hands

-The admins doing lore cinematics, the kind that you might've needed to get used to since its all in Minecraft but that in this community gets your blood pumping and your eyes bright

-Streamers doing lore cinematics to make some goofy ass plotline where they turn into a rat or an egg

-The voice of Cucurucho

-Vegetta and Foolish being obnoxiously flirtatious, especially in public

-Bagi and Tina running towards each other with no hesitation

-Baghera and Cellbit wearing gas masks. Bolas. Always.

-Quackity not being able to teleport on his own server cause he's eternally broke (and only realizing he has no money when he's at the teleporter. and having to ask the admins for tps)

-Tazercraft coming in with the gimmicks, Zombie Mike and Pacovo

-Various multilingual conversations happening at the same time

-Seeing all the BibleThump crying emojis in chat when something sad happens, and the kkkkkkk's and jajajaja's when its something funny

-The streamers taking asides to set up the real time translation, for all the languages

-the hug emote being used. group hugs

-Tina making high pitched noises to signal distress

-Funny screenshots from the translators above the cubitos heads and the in-game chat messages

-Reunions with the more inactive members when they finally log on again

-Everyone getting abruptly tp'd to spawn and immediately screaming

-Quackity being reminded about his lack of houses

-The buildings. The Wall. Fit's gym. Foolish's Titan. Baghera, Vegetta, Cellbit's houses. The train station. Spawn.

-People killing each other out of boredom waiting for the event to start

-Foolish revealing that Cellbit killed the Fed workers

-Pierre greeting people with "hola!"

-The special way Bad greets Pierre and Baghera, the french speakers

-Group visits to the museum

-People (Quackity) moaning over Vegetta in a suit

-Pierre whining for Maximus

-The part in the museum with the server's historical items. The memories every one of these items brings back. The reminder of how much this project meant to the admins who put it all together, and how much it meant to us

-Foolish and Pol laughing as soon as they see each other, and Fit being there to witness it all over again

-"Quackity pay the server"

-Quackity being obsessed with Fit's baldness

-Pierre being a furry

-Maximus being a furry

-At least one person having the rainbow jelly effect

-Lucky Ducks mention

-Vegetta freaking out over copyright music

-Cellbit revealing he stole the Gem of Fobo

-Cellbit throwing a tantrum cause he never got to kill Empanada, followed by Bagi critting him

-The sound of a chainsaw revving. Baghera laughing not long after

-People trying to break out of designated event areas to explore

-Everyone getting tp'd to an event location on the same block and immediately taking damage from entity cramming (and then screaming)

-My computer lagging the fuck out during streams. This isn't something I miss in fact its something that infuriates me to the point of violence but the prompt was "things that take me back to the start" so here it is

-Q, Pierre and Vegetta walking in on Pol shitting and refusing to leave

-Quackity hitting on random men

-The introduction of a new launcher. The feeling that shit's about to get real

-CCs immediately crashing after the introduction of a new launcher

-cine. cinema. the PopCorn emote

-That eerie, electrifying feeling when the CCs have been transported to an entirely new place, far from home...

-Foolish getting downed 2 seconds into the new location

-Bad running away from the group shouting "every man for himself!"

-The puzzles. Enigmas. The CCs having to work together however chaotically in order to solve them

-Quackity panicking and going "we're fucked" over and over as soon as they're given an objective

-Foolish, Cellbit and Quackity screaming at each other over the radios (sometimes in fear, sometimes just because they can)

-At least one person suggesting cannibalism upon realizing they've been left to the wolves

-Cellbit locking in and working through the enigmas

-Bad and YD chatting, being in their own little bubble

-People getting the radios and immediately messing around with them and using them to insult each other

-Pierre asking "how does this thing work?" and Quackity excitedly explaining the transceiver before a beat of awkward silence and Pierre going "I MEANT THE MAP"

-Foolish's 10/10 voice acting making the horror event feel genuinely tense

-Fit using the transceiver to say "buttcheeks" and Cellbit going "what the fuck is wrong with you" in that way he does

-"Language"

-Cellbit bringing up who he'd eat first if they run out of food

-The admins getting one last opportunity to jumpscare the players with scary soundbites

-Fit saying "calma" when Pac starts freaking out

-Those special conversations that happen when the CCs are having to travel long distances

-Bagi traveling with a blue bird and calling it Jaiden

-Quackity seeing a crow and calling it Philza

-Seeing skeletons and scattered codes on the floor

-Dungeons. Code fights.

-Quackity explaining the Federation lore to YD. YD being the last newbie to get The Talk from an existing member who's dealt with the Federation first hand. Carrying on the tradition.

-The realization that the Federation were the ones that brought the August batch to the island. That the Feds were the ones who encased them in ice all those months ago. We might've known, but now they know

-Pac and Mike figuring out how to exploit game mechanics

-Maxo talking about atomic bombs

-Maxo immediately interrogating YD on her Federation allegiances

-The sight of an egg running around. The ghost of what once was

-Players getting downed either to stupidity or op mobs and having to wait around for revives

-Tina speaking spanish with Maxo, and them speaking korean with YD. Fit speaking portuguese around Pac, Foolish speaking spanish with Vegetta, and Vegetta speaking english with Foolish

-Quackity hitting on Badboyhalo

-Pierre and Maxo being the way that they are (the way they haven't been able to be in so long)

-Tina finally telling people she's a demon. Tina telling Bagi, who already knew. Who stills loves her.

-CCs crashing and having to wait for the server to start back up

-Autotune Quackity

-The Bad x Cucurucho allegations

-Baghera distributing random items she definitely should not have

-Cellbit antagonizing Tina on principle and her clapping back that she's marrying his sister

-Maxo getting bombs and having them stolen by the admins

-Quackity telling Baghera and Cellbit to throw up in his mouth and Baghera being 100% down no questions asked and doing it (while Cellbit runs away from these freaks)

-LGBTQsmp jokes

-Pierre's incredibly horny type of humor

-Cellbit telling Tina he'll be at the wedding

-Bad stealing all the couches

-The players being utterly unable to find the elevator they need and deciding to just destroy the entire house

-The admins having to replay a cinematic because it didn't play the whole way through the first time

-Bad admitting to stealing all the couches. All of them.

-Old Ordo and Resistance members getting together for theory meetings. Pac telling everyone about the Codes in the basements. Everyone communicating their way through building the escape plane like a well-oiled machine. The familiarity of it.

-It happening amidst Maxo singing the Halo theme with reverb right next to their ear

-The sky turning red

-The Codes being enemies

-Bad getting absolutely swarmed by mobs as Foolish comically screams in the background

-SOFIA. Her and Maxo. Maxo's final moment in the spotlight.

-Running through the old Federation hallways. The last rush to find the exit. To freedom.

-The final cinematics. Getting kicked from the server.

-"Thank you for participating :)"

-Elena's montage of all the old bases and moments. Her saying the hell she went through was worth it for the beauty of what she saw and experienced with the players. The Qsmp's message to us.

-Vodwatching lore you missed cause you slept through it

-Scrolling through the Qsmp tag to find all the details of streamer POVs you missed

-Liking fanart, seeing people's reactions, memes, clips. Laughing together, crying together, theorizing and taking in every last little detail. Seeing people make the most cursed comments under Cucurucho thirst art. Seeing people cry over images of the eggs. In all languages. On the Qsmp.

-Being part of a community. Being Here. Juntos.