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[angelickks]

Miguel Headcanons: Mrs. O'Hara - Two

3k+ - husband!Miguel O'Hara x spider-wife! reader

summary: Mr & Mrs. O'Hara, again! warnings: no real smut but still suggestive content! so mdni. back pain, bcuz of spider duties but nothing graphic. suggested switch! miguel omfg. fluffy/that lovey dovey shit. lmk if I missed some! pretty tame aside from me sprinkling suggestive stuffs ;) notes: heyyy, the long-awaited part 2 is here. but this time with me dabbling in some spice. slight au ofc. i rlly enjoyed writing this, got a few things in the works. besides that, enjoy my loves! this was extremely self indulgent

pt. 1!

Your husband is and has always been bark and bite, it’s common knowledge 

But god is he literally the softest man you’ve ever met

You’re his world and more, his life through and through

He craves your love and attention, always 

In public, he HAS to be touching you in some way has and will throw a tantrum

But when in private? He’s literally all over you 

“Lyla honey, can you pull up last week's mission reports please?” You called out, scrolling aimlessly through a plethora of your husband’s holo-screens. Lyla’s familiar orange hue showed up by your right shoulder, “Hey mama, you got it. Mind telling me what exactly you're looking for, pretty lady?” She asked with a familiar teasing tone. You gave her a sly smirk before answering “In search of Hobie and I’s latest report, I needed to add a follow-up.” She dissipated briefly before reappearing next to the holo-screen you were occupying and pulling up the documents. You thanked her before she blew you a playful kiss and dissipated once more. “Mi reina?” Miguel called out softly, “You up there?” You walked to the edge of his platform and shot him a goofy smile, answering his question. You begin to lower the platform before you return to working the screens. Miguel frowns as he’s greeted with the sight of your back to him but quickly takes the opportunity to grab the new swivel chair (before you he had no chairs, up until he just utilized a shitty old one. Since having to work in his office more frequently you’ve been adding upgrades and decided to start with the chairs) and pulled it behind you, wrapping his arms around your thighs 

“How was your debrief, love?”

He grunted pulling you closer, nuzzling his face into the middle of your back while caressing your thighs. You chuckled at the action, used to his clinginess. 

“That bad huh, honey?” You teased, earning you a soft smack to your lower stomach. He lifted his head for a second before letting it fall back into place followed by another grunt. “Talk to me caveman, I don’t speak grunt.” Another soft smack. He attempts to get you to sit on his lap but it’s your turn to give him a small smack, reminding him that you have to finish the report or you’ll forget again. “I could’ve done it for you mami. Just leave it.” His arms found their home around your thighs again, this time a little tighter to secure you in place. “He speaks, how wonderful” you reply sarcastically, still seemingly unfazed by his behavior. You can feel him pouting behind you, before letting out what you can only identify as a cross between a whine and groan. That makes you break and start giggling at his childish behavior, finally giving him the satisfaction of falling into his lap. Without fail, he presses his face into your neck and moves to wrap his arms around your middle to make sure you don’t try and get away again. You maneuver your hand to scratch at his scalp, earning you a groan of appreciation.

“You smell so nice cariño,” He sighed, pressing a soft kiss in the junction between your neck and shoulder. You hum and let him cuddle you, assuming that the debrief this morning was a little hard on him. You’re a fool for thinking his intentions are innocent as you’re met with the familiarity of his teeth softly sinking into your pulse point. It’s almost embarrassing at the way you preen at the sensation, and you feel the cockiness radiating off of Miguel. The way his lips curl into a smug smirk, and his hands take the opportunity to softly squeeze your jaw and grant himself the access he needed. Through half-lidded eyes, you remember exactly where you are, and while you’re no saint to that happening here; that familiar beep of his watch brought you to your senses. You could feel the irritation practically oozing off of him, as you turned to face him with a quirked brow “Answering that one? It’s Jess.” He lifted his head to reveal his irritated expression and lightly poked your cheek with his pointer figure, “Maybe if I just let it ring, she won’t bother…” He murmured to himself, greedy hands switching to kneading your thighs before you scoff and answer it for him. 

“MI- Oh god.” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What?” He asked harshly. 

You flicked his forehead as he snarled at the hologram, “He meant to say yes. What’s up, honey?” You spoke up, narrowing your eyes at the impatient man below you. 

“Hey, mama. Miguel, you’re needed, like right now. So I suggest you wrap this up.” She wagged her finger back and forth, motioning to the two of you tangled together

He flat-out ended the call after that, letting out a dramatic sigh. He dropped his head between your shoulder blades and planted a kiss there. “Go now,” You softly demanded before standing up with a stretch, turning to face him. The look on his face was priceless, pure frustration paired with an angry pout. You couldn’t help but laugh before he moved excruciatingly slowly out of his office, but not before giving you one last kiss followed by a smack to your ass. 

 The nickname “mama” honestly stemmed from how much Miguel had called you “mami” I witnessed this my whole life and it is by far my favorite term of endearment so everyone be quiet

Both Lyla and Jess picked up on it quickly and had so lovingly started calling you it to fuck with Miguel. But it really just stuck. 

But despite the playful nickname, it really rang true 

You were a caretaker at heart, it shined in everything you did 

From fieldwork to HQ assignments, you looked after everyone you were involved with 

Now everyone who knew you beforehand was aware of this, great friend or friendly colleague 

But not everyone was aware of the fact and it was a feat to deal with those who took it as something else 

You handled numerous duties, and recruitment was one of them. You and Jess had handled a lot of backbone assignments, which allowed you to be on the field, but a lot of it required intense research on spider people. So when a new spider landed on your radar, it didn’t hurt to work your magic. He had been bitten only six months prior and had a background in scientific research. It would be difficult to get a brand new spider across to Miguel, but his skill set held a lot of potential. 

So with much deliberation between you all, you settled on your brand new recruit. He was ambitious, yet very naive. Despite the fact, you wanted to give him a chance. Walking him through Sector 13 was a breeze, and while he may be naive, you weren’t. Yes, it was technically on you for bringing him in, but that didn’t mean you were anticipating his innocent flirting. You’ve seen this time and time again, young and feeling a light ego boost from being Spider-man. 

You brushed it off with ease, professionalism always being a top priority. With that being said, you deflected his advances and went on with business as usual. When you had taken into account his persistence, you should’ve known he would’ve been the same way in his flirting. 

“As you’ve witnessed, HQ is divvied up into a multitude of sectors. But for right now I’ll be taking you to Sector 8 to run diagnostics and to introduce you to Miguel O’Hara” 

He nodded eagerly before questioning, “That’s the man Jessica mentioned previously, the boss?” You politely nodded, “I see. What’s he like anyway? Anything to anticipate?” You honestly would have rolled your eyes in any normal setting, having to describe your husband was interesting, to say the least. “I think you’ll know when you meet him” you chuckled airily, he smirked “While on the topic of getting to know one another. How about you? Will I be getting to know you?” While blatantly flirting, he was quite nervous, making his voice crack just a little toward the end of his question. 

“I’m sure you will be, while I do play a part in recruitment, I also do fieldwork so I’m sure our paths will cross from time to time,” Another polite deflection. He was a sweet man, truly, but it would be best if he didn’t find himself landing on your husband’s bad side on his first day. You went on with the tour, mental checklist depleting as you ran him through the operations. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t kept Miguel’s office last on the checklist. 

As you trekked through the “evil lair,” you heard him mumbling to himself about how inaccessible the place was, an off-handed joke to see if you’d laugh. You gave him a kind smile, still in professional mode. You two finally found yourselves below the platform, and you honestly should’ve expected the dramatic silence as he lowered it excruciatingly slow. You rolled your eyes, drama queen, you thought to yourself. You felt him nudge you lightly, “Is..is it always like this?” You giggled quietly, “Yes, yes it is. Please don’t mind him.” You could feel Miguel’s scowl towards the man before you had even caught a glimpse of it, but when he had turned around he resembled what you could only describe as a peeved cat, claws and all. 

You introduced the recruit coolly, “And this is Miguel O’Hara.” You could tell he was nervous, and was he subtly hiding behind you? Oh, please take it easy on him Miguel. “Nice to meet you sir-” The man couldn’t even get out a full sentence, “Please, there’s no need for pleasantries.” Your eyes hurt from how much you were rolling them at this point, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Well, um…I wanted to thank you for this opportunity. I admire your work here, as from one scientist to another-” If even possible, Miguel’s glare hardened “Again, no need for pleasantries. Mrs. O’Hara here has well informed me of your background and I will say, I do not need another reminder.” 

You could’ve shot a web over his mouth at this exact moment. Miguel always kept an eye out for you, and that meant him utilizing abusing the plethora of surveillance around HQ. You should’ve known better, he had indefinitely caught his flirting. 

“Oh I didn’t even realize that, oh my god, I am so sorry-” Did not catch a break whatsoever, “Mrs. O’Hara, My wife.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, this fucking man. “Yes, Mrs. O’Hara. Please excuse me, If I had known I swear I would not have done anything” Miguel nodded slowly, but not yet satisfied. “We both greatly value professionalism, so be very careful with how you conduct yourself here. You’ve been briefed, Jessica will be coming to retrieve you outside of my office. You’ll be assigned your first mission after training. Feel free to excuse yourself, preferably right now.” He answered flatly, enjoying the sight of him squirming. 

As quickly as he came, he was gone. You stood there, arms crossed, paired with a scowl of your own. It was almost like you two were having a staring competition, seeing which one would break first. It was until your chests were nearly touching you felt Miguel’s hand brush against your hip. You went to flick his hand, but being two steps ahead he caught your hand, “Not quick enough are we, Mrs. O’Hara?” Smug asshole. You pulled your hand away, gently switching to rub at his chest. You were teasing him, he knew that, but he was very curious about your next move as you were getting closer to his neck. You took your time tracing his collarbones, before moving to cup the side of his neck and rubbing your thumb along his throat enjoying how his Adam’s apple bobbed. You didn’t miss the way he subtly tilted his head back, just a smidge, now it was your turn to be smug. But instead, you swiftly moved your hand to the back of his neck, bringing it down just a little, making it so his lips barely brush against your own. You could hear his heartbeat, not missing the way it quickened at your actions. You kept him there for a few seconds, wanted to see if he’d even try and go for it, you could’ve laughed at how right you were. You caught his movement, digging your nails into the back of his neck as a warning. You scoffed at his submission, 

“Jealous are we, Mr. O’Hara?” 

Some days, you two played the game of cat and mouse 

Who was the cat or the mouse? Depended on the day 

But on stressful days, you two seemed to be so in tune with each other 

Despite not sharing spider senses, Miguel always and I mean always knew when you were stressed and vice versa 

As mentioned previously, you two held a lot of responsibility in the Spider-Society 

So on days when it comes too much, you’re both there to be each other’s comfort 

“Fuck,” you hissed as you go to maneuver your body gingerly onto the top of the ledge of a building, patrolling. It didn’t help when the late-night drizzles of the city slowly started to turn into ice-cold raindrops. You could’ve laughed at the irony of the situation, your back aching from a very slippery brawl that occurred during last night's patrol. It had been pouring for a few days, bringing out the pungent smell of Earth-65’s city along with the unknown that lurked in the shadows. You’ve been a little more on edge, the downpour has been having some serious repercussions on your back. There was no doubt that you were a very agile fighter, but when water is added to the mix it makes you just a tad bit clumsy the way this is actually me in real life and I unintentionally self-inserted here.

So here you were, your sore and slightly bruised back being offered a fiercely ice-cold soothe from the rain. Stars are utterly drowned out by the ambient lights, and your senses are unpleasantly filled with the smell of sulfur mixed and the musk of damp concrete causing you to scrunch up your face under your mask. Focus, the massage gun can deal with the back pain you remind yourself of, the patrol at hand. 

If it wasn’t for the icy reminder, you honestly would’ve forgotten what you were doing on Earth-65. Gwen had been off, the both of you splitting up in order to cover ground. An anomaly has been a real pain in the ass for the past few days, managing to slip from your grasp, the source of your back pain. Gwen had specifically asked for you to come with her, you’ve been training with her recently to help her build progress while on missions. She felt more at ease with you there, and you could not turn her down after knowing that. You’re met with an orange glow by your side, a small smile coming to your lips. “Hey, mamas. Just wanted to let you know, Miguel is gonna pop in soon to take the mission from here. Talk about drama!” She exclaimed, picking at her nails. You gave her a confused look, “Uh…Lyla, honey, I’ve got this covered.” She tsked and giggled at the comment, “Oh I don’t doubt it, ma. But what I do doubt is that back pain you’re feeling, after adding some software updates to that pretty little number you got on I’ve been able to read your vitals along with that pain. You’re experiencing some bruising from that blow you took last night, along with some concerning muscle straining. Therefore, Dr. Miguel is ordering you out on this one sweetie.” You groaned, she was right but you needed to get this finished, you needed to be there for Gwen. But without further protest, you see the familiar split as a portal opened. In all of his glory, there stood your husband, and you know he had a quizzical look under the mask. 

“Mi vida, why aren’t you headed home? You need rest…”He said softly, voice full of concern. You move to hug his middle, his body temperature a stark contrast from the cold, putting you at ease. “Amor, I can do this. Gwen needs me and I understand-” 

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, “Stop. I understand, but you need to go home right now. I’ll be there in a few hours to help but right now I need you at home, in bed. Quit pouting, it’s not gonna help your case.” You sighed, he knew, he always knew. Usually, you’d resist, be stubborn and carry on, but god was the ache in your back really starting to irritate you. “Don’t take this as me accepting defeat, this is all in the name of medical concerns.” You mumbled, forehead resting against his chest. “Oh is that the great, amazing Spider-Woman accepting defeat? I don’t know, it really sounds like it.” You let out an annoyed sigh, “You want me to go home or not? Because we can hash this out together.” He snorted at your sarcasm before softly smacking the side of your thigh. “Go home mi reina, I’ll be there soon.” You nodded, not wanting to argue any further, you lifted your mask just below your nose. He smirked, letting his dissipate to reveal the bottom half of his face as well. The kiss is full of passion, a little rushed, but effectively showed your love and genuine concern. You didn’t expect the light pressure of fangs sinking into your bottom lip before you slowly pulled away, watching him release your lip with a cocky smirk. “Malo” you murmured teasingly. You shoved him lightly, before opening your own portal and heading home. 

“Mi reina,” You stirred, eyes still closed, Miguel’s scent overtaking your senses. You felt your body be gently flipped onto your stomach, you were going to question the action until you felt his skilled hands working exactly where your pain was. You let out a whimper, the pressure stinging just a bit. He shushed you quietly, “I got you. Just relax.” You listen to his soft command, the pain starting to ease up. You were too tired to hide the noises you were making, letting them flow throughout the house as his thumbs massaged your lower back. “See how great it is when you listen to me, mami?” You lazily kick at his thigh as he readjusts himself to straddle your thighs, earning you a small ‘oof,’ a lazy smirk making its way to your lips at the noise. “Fine, I’ll be quiet,” You hummed, you were dozing back off into sleep at this point, your back feeling much better now. But it was when you felt his hands drift lower was when your eyes peeked back open to watch him. “Tryna get action down there? Good luck with getting me to do that, my back is sorta bruised, you see.” You felt him roll his eyes before he started to knead your thighs, earning him a soft moan from you. “Who said you need to do anything besides sit there and be pretty amor?” That made you giggle, “Touché, my love.” 

You let him continue on with his ministrations, only half-awake. But he went back to massaging your back, continuing until it lulled you to sleep. He rolled over beside you, turning his body to face your sleeping one, he gingerly stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Te amo, mami.” You both fell asleep, your bodies finding their way to each other throughout the night. That night Nueva York started to rain as well, the soft patter of the rain on the window only adding to both of your comforts.  

That morning was spent tangled up together as well, but this time very awake and with you thanking Miguel in his favorite way. 

BONUS!

“MIGUEL!” As if on queue, his head started to ache. “Fuck,” he grumbled “Jess, yes. How are you?” He replied sarcastically. She stormed up to him, the hands on her hips emphasizing her annoyance. “Why the HELL are you scaring the newbie? Over something he didn’t know of ALL things?!” Her shouting was turning his ache into a full-blown headache. “Next time tell him to be a goddamn professional and not flirt with my wife.” He muttered, arms crossing in the process. “Oh yeah, professional. Shall I remind you of last week’s little chat? Remember the one with you practically groping-” He groaned loudly, “Don’t even start-” She let a sarcastic laugh, “Me? Start with you? NEVER!”

He was reminded of why he stayed in his office, far from everyone else. 

xtras! hehe lmk what y'll thought of this one. my inbox is open to requests btw, check my pinned post! luv u all, have an amazing day/night/afternoon! 🩶🕷️

tags<3 - @miguelslefteyebrow , @darksidescorner

[co6kiesvr]

summary: namor isn’t so happy when he finds out the us has taken you to find out about the kingdom

namor stood by the shore, talking to queen ramonda, about their alliance and how it’s going to work. during that time, you were also outside of the kingdom, doing some undercover work, to find out what the us has been doing and if they’re even thinking about coming to the kingdom

namor has told you multiple times that he’s got this, and he’ll be the one to handle it. but ever since you became queen of talokan, all you do is just sit around. you wanted to feel useful for once

so you took the matter into your own hands, and snuck out of the kingdom, not really knowing what you’re getting yourself into, and got caught

“k’kul’kan!” a young lady yelled as she walked out of the ocean, namor turned to see one of his civilians there

“what are you doing here?” he asked

“le reina! (the queen) she’s gone!”

no no no no no, how could you be gone? did somebody take you? are you hurt? how could the love of his life be in danger! he’s a god, how could he let something like this happen

namor found himself sending all his people to go find you, this wasn’t an easy matter to handle, you were the queen!

one of them found out where you were, and trust me, when they told namor that his queen was in danger and taken by the us government, they saw a whole new side of him

meanwhile, you were truly in danger, they spent no time in harming you to get you to talk

“who sent you!” the man yelled in your face as another punch came your way

“nobody! i swear—nobody” you cried

the man sighed, before signaling something and leaving

you took a moment to breathe, before a knife was sliding along your face, you screamed in pain when a cut made its way on your face

“please! no!” you screamed as they cut your skin

they heard a loud thump outside, and stopped

they went outside to see what happened, before mysteriously falling to the ground, and there stood namor

once he found out where you were, he didn’t take anyone with him, he wanted to kill all of them with his bare hands

you looked up to see him running to you, his hands gently holding your face as he looked at you with such fear in his eyes

you were bruised and cut, you were hurt and your eyes looked puffy, he would never ever wish to see this sight

“in yakunaj—what did they do to you! what—how did they get you! what—how—no—“

“i’m sorry” you cried

“sorry? what—why are you sorry?”

“it’s my fault”

“what—no, no, no—of course not—“

“it is, it is” you said, making him go quiet, “i left the kingdom—to see what they’re up to, and—i just wanted to help” you sobbed

“you—you left the kingdom?” he said, you were quiet, and so was he.

he picked you up and took you home, the worry leaving his body, knowing that nobody saw him since they were all dead now

you two didn’t say a word, the people of the kingdom helped you, and fixed you up, while namor was on his own, he didn’t talk to you, he kept to himself

after a couple of hours, you went to see him, and saw him painting on his wall as usual. the room was filled with silence, as you stared at him, feeling the disappointment radiating

“i’m sorry” you cried, “please talk to me—“

“you risked the safety of this kingdom!” he yelled, the guards quickly picked up on what was about to happen, and left so they spare you some embarrassment

he turned to you, “you risked everything—just so you could see them? you are queen of talokan, your job is to sit here and stay here whether you like it or not! i told you i got it handled, and you were just so stupid to go and leave and almost get yourself killed! you know what would’ve happened to you if i wasn’t alerted? you’d be dead! dead! In kuxtal habría u Ts'o'okan. (my life would be over)”

you stood there, tears dwelling in your eyes, you walked away, not bothering to speak. he was right, you were stupid, stupid enough to go and try to get yourself killed, stupid enough to think you could help keep this kingdom safe, stupid enough to think you could handle a big responsibility.

you kept quiet for the rest of the day, you did your duties and stayed in the bedroom for a while

you sat on the couch in the room, you could hear footsteps approaching, but didn’t bother to get up and see

namor knocked on the door, “you didn’t show during dinner” he spoke, and you didn’t answer, he got closer to you, holding your hand

“i’m sorry for what i said, in yakunaj. i was just angry—and scared…” he said, and you frowned, “i was scared i was gonna lose you. i’m sorry i was so harsh, but i—when i saw you there, you looked…i just never wanted to see you like that. and i would do anything to make sure it stays that way, i know you get bored here, and you wish to do more. you will, but not right now. please be patient with me.” he said, he kissed your hand and held it tighter than before

“please talk to me” he said again

“im sorry for leaving—i just wanted to not feel useless for once”

“hey! don’t talk about my queen like that.” he said, and you lightly smiled

the two of you shared a kiss, and stared into each others eyes, you two loved each other, sure you fought sometimes, but who doesn’t?

[blazethecheeto]

ATLAS PARADOX RAMBLING

dude this book. i need to talk. about it. im going insane.

everyone who hasn't read it, PLEASE DO!!! it's a dark academia book about a bunch of gay silly magic people that join a society and try to kill each other. there's time travel, a big ass polycule, aesthetic scenes, the prettiest writing style in the world, science, philosophy, and fucked family. (opposite of found family).

(extremely chaotic unorganized long rant below, with spoilers. click at your own risk)

FIRST OF ALL WHY WAS THIS SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE FIRST ONE?!!?!?

i had to power through the first one, it felt long, and unnecessary and like trekking through a JUNGLE with the thickest and most intricate ecosystem that i had to peel back and unravel for hours and hours. only to like move the plot by an inch.

BUT THIS. olivie blake found her footing because this was so good. i am aware the reviews hate on this book and some people don't like it, but personally i adore it and it's really well written.

CHARACTERS

bro they all had such wonderful voices, like they were distinct and unique from each other but not drastically, noticeably different I NEED TO LEARN FROM THIS. six of crows and the atlas six do multi povs so well <3 its like this book was made for me, each character was perfect and incredible and gay and silly and-

reina. love of my life. i look forward to all her povs because the plants are so silly and she's the best character. i said it. she's canon asexual now too YEES. i needed more of her because she was barely in the first one, and they DELIVERED. the juicy plot with her 'god complex' (ily callum) and her feelings getting hurt and learning she actually is lonely and wants friends? she's so wanda maximoff. next book better have her opening up and learning to love people or i riot (and also her killing people and being the badass she is)

parisa always my fave too, i do wish her character wasn't always talking about sex or romance, there were some great moments in this book where she showed off her telepathy powers (the prince in the tower!!) it was awesome. i'm glad they acknowledged that side of her with reina, (oh my god i ship them so much wait till i rant about them-) but dude i still HATE DALTON. SO MUCH. OH MY GOD. every time it's her pov i dread seeing dalton, i wish she could give that up. generic white men should die.

CALLUM. whatever turned him from complex, daunting, and a psychopath last book to janus from sanders sides this book- beautiful choice. he's literally the one sassy wine-sipping gay aunt that feels nothing and everything at once, also extremely mentally ill and depressed. he's SO FUNNY. his povs are fucking hilarious to read, and he quickly became one of my faves bc of how complex he is. i'm not smart enough to decipher and psychoanalyze him but god i LOVE CHARACTERS LIKE THIS.

i don't know what happened but nico is literally one of my faves now too, he's so silly and sweet and kind and i loved his relationships with everyone this book. like him trying to murder tristan in multiple different ways oml. he's my bbg. tristan was hit or miss for me, i did find him interesting but he's not my favourite. doesn't mean i hate him, he's so very british, i feel it radiating off the page. libby my queen my icon, her dream povs were so trippy i loved it- so so realistic to a real dream, that was the most surprising and unique part. also my bisexual queen seducing belen??

i did not like ezra and atlas was a little iffy here and there but tbh the cast was so well rounded and interesting and unique but paralleled each other so well?? THE RELATIONSHIPS. I DONT THINK ANY BOOK HAS THIS INTRICATE WEB-LIKE RELATIONSHIPS WITH EACH OTHER. they're one big polycule.

RELATIONSHIPS

nico and libby <3 i love them so much as siblings/queerplatonic partners. i don't ship them romantically, because i LOVE how they subverted the eye-rolling predictable ' YA academic rivals enemies to lovers' trope. when i started TAS, i immediately thought they were gonna get together and assumed the worst. but no, they still had the banter and importance in their relationship but without the romance? instead both of them were gay af. it's beautiful. i love subverting tropes so much. they're each other's 'other half' and they're hilarious together.

NICO AND TRISTAN. they were such a highlight this book, it was unexpected but so funny. nico trying to murder tristan and their little talks because 'they're not friends...just coworkers' yeah right, the best friendships start with creatively murdering each other. tristan being droll and chill af, and then nico bouncing off the walls my adhd king.

reina and nico broke me?? like that one chapter where they sparred and caught up with each other and reina was guarding her hurt feelings. DUDE THAT KILLED ME. made me stare at the ceiling for a good minute. their friendship is everything to me, they contrast each other so well. she deserves to be treated better- when they had that projection chapter and she saw that nico downplayed her skills...like she was good, but not good enough for him to care about her. AGGHGH.

REINA AND PARISA. NOW THIS. THIS HOOKED ME INTO THE BOOK. i ship them so bad guys. they parallel each other and are both hot and enemies to lovers and wlw slow burn and- look. reina is asexual, therefore the only person to truly see and understand parisa for who she is, and not be influenced by her body. like that one projection. she can help parisa understand HERSELF and who she is past her sexual desirability. how to love someone again. romantically. then, on the flip side, parisa can help reina see and understand OTHERS. reina only sees people as one trait, cut and dry- without any of the complex feelings. parisa is a telepath, she knows how to read others. THEY CAN BOTH HELP EACH OTHER AND LOVE EACH OTHER IN WAYS THEY NEVER COULD HAVE OMFDADJFLSKJADFL- also reina pinned her against a wall and they want to kill each other and every time they interact i scream into my pillow-

-

'You can't love anyone right?"

"I've met very few people worth loving."

-

*throws myself off a building*

now we just gotta play the familiar game "IS IT DELUSION OR IS IT JUST SLOW BURN" and find out whether their insane chemistry pays off in book 3.

the nico parisa scene was actually sweet ngl, even though i don't ship them. the whole callum and tristan thing was so bitter exes situationship coded and i ate every second up. especially that last conversation. AND OFC. GIDEON AND NICO?!!! AAAAA THEY WERE SO CUTE THEY'RE ENDGAME I SCREAMED WHEN THEY KISSED DUDE THEYRE SO-

PLOT

now for the actual plot. this book has so many interesting subjects and philosophies and debates i'm not smart enough for this. but past all the aesthetic glamour, it's science, time travel, dreams, multiverses, fate, reality, and the complexities of the human mind. and my god it's fascinating as fuck.

do i have any idea what they do in this society?? NO. am i entertained? YES. especially that whole explosion paradox to bring libby back to the future. the whole powering the connections via aurora borealis? the whole debate about being gods? i love it. i love it.

alright im so sorry for that rant, i gotta go now but DUDE I LOVE THIS BOOK NO MATTER HOW WEIRD IT WAS

[astheriele]

The Other Princess

Chapter 3: The Masked Masquerade

Within the grand halls of the palace, whispers of Athanasia's transformation began to spread among the servants and courtiers. The once-beloved princess had become a puppet master, pulling the strings to manipulate those around her in her quest for her father's affection.

As her schemes grew more elaborate, Athanasia's actions became increasingly bold. She orchestrated a masquerade ball, a magnificent event where nobles from far and wide gathered to celebrate the unity of the kingdom. Unbeknownst to the guests, the ball held a much deeper purpose for the young princess.

Dressed in an exquisite gown, Athanasia wore a mask that concealed her true identity. This masked facade allowed her to move through the ballroom undetected, weaving her web of deception and cementing her position as the center of attention.

Throughout the night, Athanasia cunningly manipulated the guests, spreading rumors and planting seeds of doubt about Reina's character. Whispers of Reina's alleged misbehavior and incompetence circulated, staining her once-flawless reputation.

Under the guise of an innocent bystander, Athanasia observed the chaos she had sown. Her heart, twisted by envy and longing, reveled in the temporary triumph she had achieved. She believed that by tarnishing Reina's image, she would finally win her father's affection.

Meanwhile, Reina, unaware of her sister's scheme, radiated kindness and warmth to those around her. Her pure heart and gentle nature drew people to her, despite the attempts made to tarnish her name. Despite the adversity she faced, Reina's spirit remained untainted, providing a stark contrast to Athanasia's machinations.

Daily dose of Reina lmao

[anotherwvba]

An Origin Story pt. 3

The rhythmic thumping of gloves against bags filled the WVBA gym, along with the shouts of coaches and the grunts of boxers pushing themselves. Glass Joe was at the speed bag, his fists dancing in time with a French song he hummed to himself. Cutie Hondo, her fists wrapped and gloved, was engrossed in her heavy bag workout.

Keep your guard up, always. Remember, it's not just about power; it's about precision, Cutie thought, visualizing her next opponent, whoever she may be. Come on, girl. Pop that jab.

Across the gym, Viktor Von Kaiser was instructing a kids' beginners class in one of the boxing rings. "Remember, kleine Kämpfer, always keep your hands up. Like this," he demonstrated, his thick German accent filling the air.

The whole atmosphere changed when the gym doors flew open and a flurry of camera flashes filled the room. A small group of press photographers backed into the gym as an entourage accompanied a woman into the room. She wasn’t physically imposing, but her stylish suit and turtleneck, along with a luchadora mask and posture, radiated confidence.

A young trainee, barely a teenager, curious and eager to help, started to approach the group. "Excuse me, is there anything I can—"

Before he could finish, one of the entourage members shoved him aside. "Out of the shot, kid."

Cutie paused her workout, her eyes narrowing. She walked over to the group, her gloved hands still clenched. "Hey, what's the big idea? This is a gym, not a red carpet."

As she spoke, another member of the entourage moved to shove her aside. But Cutie was quicker; she sidestepped and pushed him away with her gloved fist. “Bad idea, buddy.”

Before the man could retaliate, the masked woman raised a hand to stop him. She looked Cutie up and down, her gaze lingering on the gloves. "¿Quién eres tú?" she asked, her voice tinged with a Mexican accent.

"Cutie Hondo. I’m a fighter in the WVBA Women’s Circuit. And who might you be?" Cutie retorted, her eyes meeting the masked woman's icy gaze.

The man Cutie had shoved earlier answered indignantly, "You're speaking to the former 4-time Campeona Mexicana de Lucha Libre Femenil, undefeated MMA fighter, and soon-to-be WVBA Women's Champion—'La Realeza del Anillo,' Reina Adora."

Glass Joe, who had stopped his speed bag workout to see what the commotion was about, approached the group. "Ah, 'The Royalty of the Ring,' is it? Seems a bit presumptuous, non?"

Reina turned her attention to Glass Joe. "Is that a challenge, Francés?" she inquired, her tone cold.

Glass Joe straightened his posture, but met her gaze. "Non, mademoiselle. Just an observation. One must earn their titles here."

Cutie chimed in, "He's right. Your past accomplishments won't mean much in the WVBA. But you're welcome to put in the work, join us in the gym, and prove yourself in the ring."

The man Cutie had shoved earlier opened his mouth, as if offended, but Reina cut him off. "I'm here to see the competition, not to join it. I have a private gym. No need to associate with those I'll be defeating soon enough."

Cutie clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing. "Then maybe you should leave. This is a place to train and hone the art of boxing, not a studio for a photoshoot."

Reina smiled at Cutie, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. "I hope I face you soon, Señorita Hondo. Me encantaría noquearte," she said, her words dripping with anticipation.

“There’s a ring right there, kamen no josei,” Cutie replied, “Kite. Kite. Makeru no ga kowaidesu ka?”

Glass Joe stepped beside Cutie and put his hand on her shoulder, sensing her rising tension. "Let it go, Cutie. She'll learn soon enough."

With that, Reina smiled at Cutie, then she and her entourage turned on their heels and exited the gym, the door closing behind them with a resounding thud. The camera flashes ceased, but the tension they'd left in their wake remained.

[groriatrevi10xx]

-El Invernadero Carmesí/The Crimson Greenhouse-

-El Palacio Carmesí/The Crimson Palace-

-El Hogar de las Rosas/The Home of the Roses-

------

-Se dice que en el Invernadero Carmesí, diseñado como un palacio para Rosas... Un Hogar, es un laberinto... Hay una puerta especial, hay muchas... Pero solo una te lleva a un lugar donde está un cielo Carmesí, hay oscuridad.../It is said that in the Crimson Greenhouse, designed as a palace for Roses... A Home, it is a labyrinth... There is a special door, there are many... But only one takes you to a place where there is a Crimson sky, there is darkness...

Este lugar solo permite el ingreso de Reinas y Reyes... Nadie sabe por qué, el lugar irradia un gran poder.../This place only allows Queens and Kings to enter... No one knows why, the place radiates great power...-

*****

P.Arma: Una vez, salí con la abuela a un AU, era mi primera vez... Entonces, solo me separaba de ella cuando no miraba, quería investigar el AU... Llegué a un Invernadero, muy lindo... No debí haber entrado, cuando lo hice, las puertas se cerraron, no se podían abrir... Traté de encontrar otra Salida, todo era un Laberinto, mostrando diferentes cielos de diferentes colores y muchas rosas, cansada apenas llegué a cualquier puerta, recuerdo haberme asustado cuando se abrió sola... Mostrándome un lugar lleno de rosas, una más... Pero esta era diferente... El Cielo era Oscuro y Carmesí... Recuerdo que entré, me quedé allí por mucho tiempo... No sé, creo que en algún momento me quedé dormido por un momento, y luego aparecí afuera del Invernadero... Mi abuela me regañó cuando me encontró, aunque me preguntó dónde estaba... Al final se sorprendió cuando le conté mi historia, me contó algo interesante.../Once, I went out with Grandma to an AU, it was my first time... So, I only separated from her when she wasn't looking, I wanted to investigate the AU... I arrived at a Greenhouse, very nice... I shouldn't have gone in, when I did it, the doors closed, they couldn't be opened... I tried to find another Exit, everything was a Labyrinth, showing different skies of different colors and many roses, tired I just reached any door, I remember being scared when it opened by itself. .. Showing me a place full of roses, one more... But this one was different... The Sky was Dark and Crimson... I remember going in, I stayed there for a long time... I don't know, I think at some point I fell asleep for a moment, and then I appeared outside the Greenhouse... My Grandmother scolded me when she found me, although she asked me where I was... At the end she was surprised that I told her my story, she told me something interesting...

*Pausa/Pause*

P.Arma: Me habló de ese Invernadero y su Puerta Oculta Especial con otros, esa puerta solo está abierta para Reinas y Reyes... Suena tonto, bueno... Realmente suena tonto, no soy una Reina... Todos aquí me odia, y el único que será Rey es Azúarc... Supongo que mi abuela se equivocó.../He told me about that Greenhouse and its Special Hidden Door with others, that door is only open to Queens and Kings... It sounds silly, well... It really sounds silly, I'm not a Queen... Everyone here hates me , and the only one who will be King is Azúarc... I guess my grandmother was wrong...

Hmmm...

Aunque hay algo que no le dije a mi Abuela, a través de las ventanas del Invernadero, en ese extraño lugar... Se formó una silueta, una forma... No sé, una Mujer, vestida de amarillo y blanco. ... Y una Corona Brillante flotaba sobre su cabeza, brillaba... Sus ojos me miraban, me sonreía burlonamente... Tenía miedo... Demasiado, se reía... Hmmm... Ella me dijo algo.../Although there is something that I did not tell my Grandmother, through the windows of the Greenhouse, in that strange place... A silhouette was formed, a shape... I don't know, a Woman, dressed in yellow and white... And a Brilliant Crown floated on her head, it shone... Her eyes looked at me, she smiled at me mockingly... I was scared... Too much, she laughed... Hmmm... She told me something...

"No tengas miedo de tu propio Reflejo..."/"Don't be afraid of your own Reflection..."

Pero, yo no soy ella... ¿Verdad?.../But, I'm not her... Right?...

------

--------

G: No sé por qué escribo tanto, no sé, simplemente me perdí escribiendo... Pero bueno, este lugar está dibujado, como una foto que encontré en Facebook de un invernadero abandonado... Me gustó y traté de dibujarlo, pero a veces me salía mal... Lol.../I don't know why I write so much, I don't know, I just got lost writing... But hey, this place is drawn, like a photo I found on Facebook of an abandoned greenhouse... I liked it and I tried to draw it, but sometimes I went wrong... Lol...

[pridepages]

Tangled Web: The Atlas Paradox

I just finished The Atlas Paradox by Olivie Blake. I have some thoughts...

Here there be spoilers!

Poet Walter Scott was the first to write “Oh what a tangled web we weave / when first we practice to deceive.”

The residents of the Alexandrian Society manor house spent all of their first year together weaving their deceptions. Now, in Olivie Blake’s followup The Atlas Paradox, all six initiates must face the reckoning of their choices--and find themselves and their affections more deeply entangled than ever.

Many fantasy trilogies tend to suffer from sophomore slump. Often, the second book is the weakest of the lineup. Fair dues to Blake: Paradox is in many ways a stronger novel than The Atlas Six. Firstly, the world-building is much more clearly shaped. Why did our wizards have to murder one of their own to join this academic cult? Because, apparently, the library is a malevolent, sentient force that thirsts for blood. Better still, the disappearance of Libby Rhodes will not suffice. The archives are wise to such cheats. In fact, when Atlas Blakely’s class tried the same thing by disappearing Ezra Fowler, the archives took vengeance: each of the remaining members of the class were eventually killed except for Ezra (bouncing around the timeline) and Atlas (remaining to be fed upon by the murder books). Similarly, we watch as the remaining members of Atlas’s Six begin to fall apart in different ways: Nico sickens, Reina obsesses, Parisa sours, Tristan sulks, and Callum drinks. All of them are still being puppeteered by Atlas, who reveals that his Master Plan appears to be to use the collective gifts of the Six to find a door to a wider multiverse. Meanwhile, Libby has been stranded in 1989. To get home, she will be confronted with the ultimate moral choice and will face her own fall from grace.

Blake has described this book as the characters experiencing their quarter-life crisis. And it shows. Admittedly, it’s a bit aggravating to hear almost all of them repeatedly telling the reader about how life and the world are pointless because Alexandrians all have power and can effectively do nothing to change the world, their individual fates, or otherwise find happiness. But, much like the grating nobody-understands-me adolescent phase, it is a stage that any thinking young adult has to go through. And the characters are charismatic enough that you want to stick with them.

As in the first book, the Six find themselves navigating tangled relationships. Initial attractions are complicated by the choices that each has made and the ways they have hurt each other. The question posed to all of them is: Where do we go from here?

An early question answered (yay for being right!) was about Reina: “she never thought of anyone sexually.” So her arc is all about her friendships. “She developed a talent for isolation,” Reina reminds us early. But the problem with that is that she resents being overlooked. And although she can identify moments when she’s being unfair--expecting other people to reach out to her or praise her or admire her despite the hostile demeanor she radiates--she can never quite get over her own pride enough to try to reach out for the closeness she wants.

Meanwhile, we rejoin some of the couples facing the immediate consequences of their actions. Callum knows that Tristan tried to kill him at the suggestion of Libby Rhodes. Callum also knows that Tristan and Libby slept together. Therefore, Callum concludes, “This was who Tristan had chosen over Callum...He hoped it would pain Tristan for the rest of his life.” A vengeful Callum is perfectly in line with the person we know. Most of book one we were exposed to Callum’s vanity to the point where whether he was interested in other people beyond manipulating them was debatable. But here we see a softer, truly wounded Callum: “Tristan might have betrayed Callum, but he wasn’t the bad guy...This was just the world. You trusted people, you loved them, you offered them the dignity of your time and the intimacy of your thoughts and the frailty of your hope and they either accepted it and cared for it or they rejected it and destroyed it and in the end, none of it was up to you. This was just what you got. Heartbreak was inevitable. Disappointment assured.” 

And then there’s Tristan, who shows perhaps the most maturity out of any of the characters in this book when he finally says to Callum: “This--between us--it was real for me. You can pretend that it didn’t matter. That I was the one who wronged you. That you had no hand in how things happened. That I made a choice based on nothing, based on my own insecurities and flaws. But I am not such an idiot--I’m not so devoid of feeling to not be perfectly aware that you and I had something rare and difficult and fucking significant, and in the end it only broke because I broke it.” Unfortunately, it doesn’t make things right between them. Callum is still in deep pain and lashing out because of it. He cannot see that there is a way through the mess between them: forgiveness. But forgiveness takes courage, and more than just recognizing your flaws. It takes accountability for your own imperfections, taking responsibility for your actions both in the past and in the future. Tristan, by actually putting out there that he wronged Callum, was building a bridge that Callum has refused to cross. For all its failure, Tristan’s maturity in trying deserves a gold star.

Another way Tristan has changed is leaning into his affection for Libby. For most of the first book, Tristan was cold, reserved, apparently off-put by Libby’s earnestness and sensitivity. But secretly, he seems to have found it rather attractive. He sets Libby up in his mind as a kind of hero archetype, a contrast to how much he hates himself. But Parisa cautions him: “You like her because she’s innocent...because she’s moral. Because she’s good. Because she represents something to you that the rest of us no longer have, because we came here. And because we made choices. But she made a choice too, Tristan. She knew what the consequences were. Libby Rhodes is not your goodness, Tristan. She’s her own open flame.” Tristan is certainly in danger of idealizing Libby out of existence, fictionalizing her in his head--which is easy to do since she is absent from his life for most of the book. But, in the end, Tristan determines he’d “rather have whatever version of Libby she had become than face the prospect of having no Libby at all.” Whether he will be able to live with the reality of that choice will remain to be seen in the next installment.

Similarly, Parisa’s journey is one of identity. Parisa has been repeatedly accused of being unable to love. Parisa finally refutes this misconception: “Of course she loved...to her, sex and love and desire and affection were different things--some of which she needed or wanted, and some she firmly did not.” Parisa knows who she is. However, Parisa learns that book one paramour Dalton Ellery is not who she thought he was. She was previously aware that Dalton’s consciousness had been split. She now learns that Dalton split off a part of himself that he did not like--his ambition--in order to both make himself safer to handle his power in the world and because it would allow the archives to trust him with more information for his research. Parisa ultimately contributes to reuniting Dalton’s consciousness, but a ‘healed’ Dalton is a new Dalton: “She realized that without the entirety of himself--with no ambition, and indeed, no formulation of the future, which was a thing she thought they had in common until she realized that, actually, his version of a blank page was wildly different from hers--she had never seen the other intricacies of him. His dreams. His longings. His fears.” Their arc is particularly fascinating because it invites the discussion: would you change what you perceive to be your worst qualities? If you did, you would be a different person. If you were, would you still be right for the people who love you now as you are? Perhaps it is different when life changes who we are gradually, as it inevitably does. But neatly removing one element entirely does not make you a ‘better’ version of yourself. It just makes you different.

Speaking of differences: wow, Libby Rhodes! I admit, I had a pet theory about Libby Rhodes. Part of it arose from the kind of way she spoke about Ezra (like he was a box she was ticking off, like she was acting in ways a good girlfriend should, the way she seemed to easily resent and want to ditch him). I was just getting big closeted sapphic vibes off her. Then, of course, she had threesome with Tristan and Parisa in book one. This at least suggested queerness to me, but still felt unconfirmed...until we get this gem in Paradox: “I’m a time traveler from the future...who maybe kind of slept with one or two of my coworkers, whom I would also (maybe) like to sleep with again.” Them, plural, as in she was into Parisa. But, then again, who isn’t? Firmly orienting Libby with the sapphics is that she gets a crush on a fellow medeian academic during her sojourn into 1989: “a cautious kiss from Belen’s careful mouth, was riotous with sensation. The hint of pressure was like a spark to Libby’s imagination, igniting something dormant in her chest as a purr of satisfaction slipped from her parted lips into Belen’s smiling mouth.” Libby is at first her typical unsure self in this moment, feeling “the kind of weird that preceded a cliff’s edge, a sharp drop. A sip of absinthe and a first kiss.” A sip of absinthe. The drink she shared with Parisa before their tryst. Not to put to fine a point on it, “Libby reached for her...and heard the vestiges of Parisa’s voice in her head: Have what you want, Rhodes. Take it.” Big. Gay. Vibes. We love to see it. But it’s unclear whether Libby is meant to end up with Parisa, Tristan, or anyone else. All we know is that “All this time she’d been desperate for help, for someone else to reassure her, for some form of comfort, or anything that could make her feel she wasn’t alone--but she was alone.” Being cast out on her own forces Libby into a reckoning. Because, for her, companionship has always been about tacit acceptance or approval. Libby has needed to be constantly reassured of her own worth. But now she’s growing beyond that. “She was no longer desperate for the crutch of someone else’s faith. For the first time...she would not presume herself to be deficient. She would not doubt the power in her body. She would not question what was earned. She would do this, and she would do it alone.” If we’re heading toward a Libby who needs to forge a future standing completely alone, uncoupled to signify that she is finally emotionally self-sufficient, wouldn’t hate it. But it would be better if it were gay.

So, thank goodness for my absolute favorite arc in the novel. In book one, an obvious romantic connection to me from the beginning was Nico and his friend Gideon, the one who he claimed to come to the Society to help. The one who he does so much to protect. The one he worries about constantly. It could not be clearer as their interactions pile up in Paradox that it’s two-sided: these idiot boys are so in love. And just when you think they’re never going to do anything about it, Gideo takes the leap: “Relief, that no one had put a stop to that arrogant laugh...some madness in Gideon’s chest made up his mind for him. He leaned forward and caught Nico’s mouth with his in something of a punitive force, a captive blow. More of a gasp that anything else, really. Although technically, it was a kiss.”

Thank you, God. Finally. But these characters are unpredictable. Nico has shown attraction to women before (well, Parisa, but again--who hasn’t?) and maybe we were heading for another heartbreaking twist:

“Gideon felt Nico’s breath catch on his tongue, an audible hitch of surprise, and then Nico pulled away and Gideon thought no, no, no-- ‘Oh, so it’s like that?’ Nico said. His eyes were searching and bewilderingly, confusingly bright. In response Gideon felt unopened and raw, like he’d cracked his chest in two and presented the evidence for Nico’s evaluation... ‘Yeah, it’s like that.’ Nico’s smile broadened. ‘Good.’ Nico caught him by a fistful of his t-shirt, tugging him in again.”

Good. Just good. For so long they struggled with their words, struggled to articulate even to themselves what they are. But at last, they chose to take a risk: no more deceptions. No more tangled thoughts, fears, self-consciousness, or denial. Instead of deciding to stay caught in the web, they tore themselves free. 

I think we all have a tendency to overcomplicate our relationships. It’s easy to pull strands of negative thought. We tease out all the reasons that we can’t be happy with someone else: our sense of our inadequacies, our obligations, our histories, our resentments, our fear of risk--and we weave them into nets that keep us trapped. But we have the ability to make new and different choices. In the grand scheme of things, maybe choosing to pull ourselves out of our misery webs may seem like so much wasted or pointless effort. But if this life is all we get, and all we can control is ourselves, then maybe there is something worthy and heroic in setting ourselves free.

[yuriko-mukami]

“A kiss on the cheek maybe…?”

First Five Asks Get A Kiss

"Umh... Reina-san..."

Sitting at the corner table in a cozy cafe with Reina had been rather nice. The girls had chatted, and Yuriko was quite amazed at how comfortable she felt around Reina. Usually, she was slow to feel like that but somehow things had just clicked with the other girl perfectly.

"I... I... want to thank you for spending time with me like this," Yuriko said, moving her chair a bit closer to Reina's. "I hope you've been having fun time too..."

For a moment, Yuriko stared at the table. This was always so difficult... but Reina had asked for it, so... A friendly kiss on the cheek, right?

Leaning in, Yuriko reached for Reina's cheek. She pressed her pink-tinted lips against it softly, feeling the radiating coldness of a vampire on her mouth while the pleasant scent of lavender surrounded her. Instinctively, Yuriko drew a breath before falling back to a better sitting position.

"So... thank you. I have had fun."

[designerradiator19]

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[zumpietoo]

A Child’s Treasury

of just recent wrongs:

GymD is an amaazzzinggg guy and sooooperrr into PP

PP is Chris Evans’s/John Mayer’s booty call (and this is something to be proud of)

PP is with NHC (whose career is amazing)

PP is with NHD

PP is with Dylan O’Brien

PP is with Timmy Chlamydia

PP doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs

PP didn’t get botox (but Cole did)

PP is sooooperrr happy, glowing, radiating

PP’s “movie” will be #1 4EVAHHHH!!!

PP’s “production partner” was JLo’s (she worked in a low level position for JLo)

PP is touring “italy”

PP lovess taking off the summer (just interviewed to the contrary)

PP hasn’t gained any weight, ever

Cole’s movie/projects will flop

Everybody hates Cole

Cole is with Reina, Elisha, Hobo Maggie, Kaia, Lucan, DS, Rainey, Kathy, an Unnamed Bimbo

Ari is a Poor/Country Bumpkin

But has entrapped Cole with a brilliant Pee Arr contract

However he doesn’t permit her in LA

Tho she’s a prostitute

Who hasn’t booked a gig in ages

And has her furniture in Montreal, now 

And Cole “made” her mom pay to snip-snip Bear

Cari broke up

And that’s justttt off the top of mah head. Feel free to add....

[ravensproes]

Lifetime Pt. 1

The day was bright and cold. Crip air blew across my face. My children played in the field of snow. I was happy. I had always been happy. How could I not be happy? Jun and Michael were their names, twins at the age of ten. A smile crossed my face as I gazed upon their snowball fight. “How long have they been at it?” Their mother, Reina, asked as she stepped through the sliding glass door and onto the back patio. “About an hour. I’ll call them in for breakfast soon, I’m making french toast.” She smiled and kissed me warmly on the cheek. “Make sure to let me know too.” “I will.” Time passes and the sun stretches ever higher into the morning sky. “Alright kids, time to come in!” I hear their sounds of protest and then the begrudging “ok.” As they trudge through the snow. I turn my back on them and move through the slighting glass door, through the living room, towards the kitchen. I yawn as my fingers wrap around the cold door handle. I turn the knob and the door swings open to a cacophony of sound. “SURPRISE!” Family and friends pack the small kitchen wearing party hats. A cake sits in the middle of the kitchen, happy birthday written upon it. Tears fill my eyes and a smile breaks my tired face. “Y’all are so kind.” I hear escape my lips as I step farther into the room. “Happy birthday sweetie.” Reina said softly as her arms wrapped themselves around me in a tight hug. I hug her back then turn to my children. Jun and Michael, fifteen each. Michael held out a gift “we got this for you dad.” “We hope you like it.” I looked from Jun to Michael “I know I will.” My hands take the gift and I begin to unwrap it, slowly revealing a lamp. Simple in its construction, almost brutalist in its demeanor, it sat inside the box. My hands removed it from its cardboard prison, allowing me to take in its full simplicity. “We know you’ve been wanting a lamp for your bedside.” Jun spoke timidly. “I love it. So simple but so elegant. Thank you both.” I set The Lamp down and brought both of them into a hug. “You guys are awesome.” “Common dad…” Michale said quietly. I let them go and look up at the rest of the room’s occupants. My heart grew still, my skin grew cold. The faceless crowd stood around me. Skin pulled taught like latex over their featureless skulls. Human clothes draped over their skeletal corpses, hanging loosely as they play acted human nature. Whispered static words oozed from their skulls like words drifting through a broken radio. A scream left my lips, radiating outward in a cry for help. Soft hands came in response. Shaking me from my dreams and back into reality. “It’s ok, everything is fine.” Reina’s soft hands left me. I rolled onto my side and turned on The Lamp. “What happened?” “You were screaming in your sleep again…” I sat up and looked over at her. Reina looked exhausted. Her hair lacked its usual sheen. “I’m sorry…” “did you forget to take your meds again?” “Probably…” I stood up and slowly walked into the bathroom. I flicked the light switch and the warm buzz of the bulb filled the room. My hand reached for a small bottle on the counter and grabbed it. My eyes read the label, Quetiapine. I opened the bottle and let one of the pills fall onto my left palm. The pill went down easy and the warm buzz shut off as I flicked the switch again. “You need to talk to the doctors again.” Reina was sitting on the bed, her eyes staring at me filled with concern. “I will.” “Promise me. I need you, they need you.” “I promise.” She slid back under the covers and closed her eyes. The weight of my condition heavy upon her. I slid back into my spot and gazed at The Lamp glowing in the dark room. Its simplicity a rebellion against the clutter of life. It didn’t belong here. Its light didn’t belong here. It was from another world, it has to be. My eyes watched as the physical tendrils of light stretched like daggers into the ethereal darkness.The Lamp was wrong. I closed my eyes and the light fought around me as I was unable to confront the incomprehensible reality that stood before me.

[scoops404]

SCOOPS MY DEAR!!! I am terribly sorry for sending you an ask about your fic last week (got distracted by my burning house but dw I am safe and so is my stuff). I am here and queer and ready to lose it over this fic.

First off, as a college student, you’re nailing all the beats of freshmen college friendships with Sylvee and Sapnap. The budding closeness from shared classes and interests and making time for each other is really realistic, and it made the whole immersion work for me.

Also, despite George being a very unreliable narrator, I still feel empathy for Dream, even more so than George. He radiates pathetic dog energy (in a good way!), and with this whole new quarterback thing, it’s only getting worse. I just want to hug him and shake him until he stops freaking out over the stress.

Which brings me to my next point. The quarterback thing wasn’t something I was expecting, but my god am I here for it. The stress Dream feels is valid: the entire school would be looking to him to carry their team, and even if he could block that out (which he couldn’t tbh), the fact that his teammates rely on him would just crush him. He’s doing well, but even our Dream had a bit more time to prepare for this role. This Dream doesn’t, and although it’s sadistic, it will be great to see him crack (and for George to maybe pick him back up please scoops I need fluff it’s been so angsty—)

George is, as always, beautifully written. His characterization, his goals, his temper, his will, all of it is just so damn well put together. It makes him alive as a character because he’s flawed but gentle and cruel but kind. I can’t wait to see what you do with him in the later chapters.

Anyway, here is a gift of a hammer to smash your writers block for the end of hits différent. Use it well, take care, and I will see you next week!

Huge!

-Reina

Hi Reina, my beloved!!

UMMMM your burning house???!?! I sincerely hope you're okay stay okay and that your stuff is okay and just... wow... yeah, that sucks, buddy i'm so sorry!! (I'm glad you're okay). There's never any expectation on my end for your beautiful comments, so if you don't feel up to it, never worry about me. (I did think about you, but not in a make-you-feel-guilty-way just an i-worried-about-you-way)

Back to the story! Yes, I needed something ~fun~ to up the stress Dream is under, something visible that also puts their eventual relationship in jeopardy -- there are eyes everywhere, etc I won't get too much into it, but there's other things bothering Dream currently that he's not talking about yet, those are lurking under the surface. I'm glad everyone's empathizing with him, that's the point!!

Going to college, to me at the time, felt like a long summer camp. Like, it took a while for it to sink in that my parents weren't going to come pick me up, lol, lame i know! So there's a bit of this feel here in the story -- where everybody is shaking to find new friends (football players kinda skip this a bit because they start training together over the summer and so when the semester starts they already have each other)

There will be fluff interwoven with everything else. I never think of the down or cutsey moments as fluff while I'm writing it, just the next thing necessary for the story - but it's there

Taking that hammer and applying it liberally - thanks friend!!

[anotherwvba]

An Origin Story pt. 6

The infirmary was a marvel of modern medicine, a state-of-the-art facility that could handle everything from fight-related injuries to basic surgical procedures. Gabby Jay led the group of new and prospective fighters into the infirmary.

"Mes amis, welcome to the infirmary," Gabby announced, his French accent lending a touch of elegance to the sterile environment. "Here, you will find everything you need to keep you in fighting shape and ready for the ring."

Gabby then gestured to a middle-aged man in a white lab coat, “Please allow me to introduce Doctor Genkoto Wakada. Doctor Wakada is our chief physician on staff.”

Doctor Wakada stepped forward, a warm expression on his face. "Thank you, Gabby. Welcome everyone. Today, we'll be conducting your physicals. This will include blood work, EKG, the works. We want to make sure you're all fit to fight. The health and safety of our fighters is of the utmost importance to us here and we will put your health ahead of your fight."

“They are médecins fantastiques,” Gabby spoke up. “Doctor Wakada and his staff have kept me in fighting trim through one hundred bouts.”

“Thank you for the kind words, Gabby.” Doctor Wakada looked to his clipboard, “Let’s get started. Reina Adora, you’re up first.”

“About time,” Reina stood, radiating arrogance. She shot a disdainful look at the rest of the group before disappearing behind the curtain.

Star Mika took a seat in the waiting room, her eyes falling on the teal boxing gloves in her bag. I’m here, Mac, she thought. I'm finally here, in the WVBA. I can't wait for you and everyone to see how much I’ve grown.

"Umm, sorry, is this seat taken?" A voice broke through Mika's reverie.

Mika looked up to see a young blonde woman dressed in jeans and a Chicago Cubs tank top. "No, go ahead," Mika replied, smiling.

The blonde sat down and introduced herself, a midwestern accent tinged her voice. "I'm Kinsley, but you can call me Skye."

"Nice to meet ya’, Skye. I'm Mika. Star Mika," she introduced herself, extending a hand.

Skye shook it. "Star Mika, huh? That's pretty cool. I saw how you stood up to lucha chick earlier. That was badass."

Mika chuckled. "Thanks. I just don't like it when people act like they're above everyone else. We're all boxers, right? We’re all the same when we lace up the gloves."

Skye nodded. "Exactly. I hope I get signed just so I can fight her. I’d love to take her down a notch. Can't stand bullies."

"Me neither," Mika agreed. "So, you're from Chicago?"

"Born and raised! Chi-Town tough, that's what my daddy says. How about you?"

"I'm from the Philippines, but my family moved to New York when I started middle school."

“New York? So you’re a talker,” Skye smiles, giving the last word an exaggerated New York drawl.

Mika chuckles and puts up her dukes jokingly, “Oh, I talk alright.”

Both girls share a laugh, then Skye says, "That's awesome. What got you into boxing?"

"I was a gymnast, but I couldn’t find a place when we moved to New York.” Mika absently reached for her gloves in her bag, “One of my best friends was in the boxing club and got me hooked."

Skye grinned. "Really? I’m a gymnast, too! Gymnastics, dance, cheerleading, but I saw at a WVBA show at the UIC. That was when I knew this was where I wanted to be."

"Petmalu! Lots of skills translate to the ring,” Mika said excitedly.

"It's all about that footwork, baby," Skye winked. "So, you know anyone here?"

"Not really. I mean, I know of some fighters, but I don't really know anyone here personally."

"Then, wanna be my study buddy? We can help each other out."

Mika's eyes lit up. "Absolutely! We should totally see if we can room together too!"

Skye's eyes widened. "That would be awesome! Let’s check out the gym together tonight."

"I'm all in for it," Mika agreed, her excitement palpable. “So let me tell you about the cafeteria they’ve got…”

Just then, Doctor Wakada called out the next name, some guy named Tim or Tom—they didn't catch it. Mika and Skye were too engrossed in their newfound friendship and the exciting plans that lay ahead. They were here, in the WVBA, and the future looked brighter than ever.

[mycharacterdump]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐙𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐊 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟏 — 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐍, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟏

Nothing cut worse than a father wound. Maisie had been tended to her whole life, ever since she failed the first hearing test when she was a few weeks old — but nothing could mend the gaping hole that yearned for more than what she was given. It felt selfish of her, when she reflected upon it, because her mother was wonderful and she had the best siblings she could've wished for. Yet every time at night when she and her twin were tucked in and he asked for a story, and their mother would recount a tale of her days at Hogwarts alongside their nameless, faceless father, she felt the full weight of herself hanging off this unconquerable mountain. She reached out for a guiding hand, but all she could feel against her skin was a gentle breeze. At some point she would have to let go; free fall into the trenches of uncertainty and doubt, but she clung on until it ached through her bones, radiating down to the marrow. Her hands were calloused and her nails reduced to rounded nubs that made her fingers look boyish and a little gnarled. She would never be a beautiful thing for as long as she held on, she deduced. And she didn't care. Her mother taught her a lesson than remained paramount: beauty was to be admired, not sought after. True beauty could be found in the glint of someone's eye when they look at the stars; the shine in their smile as they were paid a compliment; their whole body whenever they thought something was particularly invigorating, like her twin when he spoke about wandmaking the same as their grandfather, or her little brother Sebastian while he was sat square in front of the television to watch a Quidditch match. Maisie had found some odd sort of peace in knowing her beauty had yet to come. She would blossom eventually, but in the mean time she would cling onto the hope that, someday, her father would come in miraculously and change everything before she did; even as a shadow, even as a dream.

It was the last day of summer holiday, before she and Max would be attending Hogwarts as first years, whenever things finally began shifting for her.

"Little star?" Reina spoke up in a hum as she tapped her oldest child's shoulder, who was perched on the windowsill of their seaside home in Liverpool, gazing out the opened bay windows and lost in thought. "What are we doing?" she chuckled softly, moving so she could take a seat beside her daughter.

Maisie swallowed self-consciously and looked down at her hands. Her tired, aching hands. Still, she flexed her fingers and went to sign a quick, I'm sorry.

"Why are you sorry?" Her mother immediately moved so that she could comfort her, rubbing her upper arm gently. "Is this about that incident over breakfast? Because you know how passionate Honey can get about her politics."

That morning, Maisie and her younger sister, Honey, a spicy nine-year-old, had gotten into a particularly nasty argument regarding the fates of the dark wizards that had begun populating a broader area of Europe as of late. While Maisie was a pacifist like their mother, something that set her sister apart was her insistence that justice be swiftly delivered in the form of an unspeakable curse. But she didn't blame her. After all, Honey was only three years old whenever they fled the Burrow and were apparated to what they had eventually reconstructed as their safe haven, escaping the man that had infiltrated their home and presumably took the life of her father and triplet sister.

It's not about Honey. I told her I was sorry already. Maisie signed in return.

Reina wrapped an arm around her eldest for a moment, resting her head atop the other's so they could sit together in silence and bask in the moonlight that was filtering in through the cloud cover. She pressed a kiss against Maisie's crown, then pulled away so the younger girl could read her lips. "It's about your father, isn't it?" she presumed.

All Maisie could do was nod.

"Alright. Would you like another story?" Reina offered as she pulled away, leaning back against the window. "You know I'm always happy to tell them."

Maisie ruminated on the question before she gave an answer. Tell me who he was. Truly. All you ever tell us is the good parts. I want to know it all. she signed. Every ugly bit.

Reina pressed her lips together contemplatively as her gaze lingered on her daughter. She straightened her posture and placed her hands in her lap for a moment, entwining her fingers while she percolated on what to say. How was she supposed to go about this? Looking back, she had developed a habit of painting their father as a martyr — but if Maisie wanted the truth, she would have a rude awakening.

Mum? Maisie signed, seeming more desperate.

"Okay," Reina said as she released a breath and tried to keep her composure. "... Your father was a singular being. There was no one else like him in the world. I promise you this. He made sure he was the one and only, but, if we're honest, I didn't pay him much mind in the beginning. Your Aunt Lainey told me he was too much trouble. Admittedly, I liked trouble. But when I looked at him — I didn't see some whirlwind romance. I saw everything. And it scared me," she began.

Maisie remained silent, keeping her hands folded in her lap so she didn't interrupt. Her brown gaze was focused solely on her mother in that moment.

"— but when we spoke for the first time, I could tell everything he'd presented himself as had been a façade. He wasn't any trouble at all, actually. He was just a boy. He liked to spend the money his father gave him, the money he thought he was entitled to by birthright, and he liked everyone knowing that he was worth something. I wouldn't have it. When we first started dating I paid for everything, and I let him be himself. He was... He was intense. Very passionate about me, about the family name, and I — well, I was intrigued. But he liked more than material or physical things. He was the first person who ever asked me about who I was, what I wanted. He cared about others more than others cared about him, ultimately."

Pursing her lips, Maisie raised her hands again. So he's a superhero?

Reina chuckled softly and shook her head. "You didn't let me finish," she said. "He was impulsive, too. A true Gryffindor. He wanted the whole world for us. For a long time, I didn't think I'd be enough for him. And maybe at sometimes I wasn't, but that's... That's human nature. Everything changed when you three came along," she gave a melancholy smile. "He only ever wanted to do right by all of you. He messed up sometimes. We almost didn't make it. But I gave him a second chance. And he stood up for us everyday until — until the end."

Maisie noticed tears developing in her mother's eyes and she reached out so she could wipe away those that had broken off onto her cheeks. "Momma," she said quietly, just above a whisper.

"Oh, I love hearing your voice," Reina smiled at her as she grasped onto her wrists gently. "You need to speak up more often, Mai Mai. You're more alike than you know."

The younger Hufflepuff furrowed her brows, her head cocking sideways in curiosity. "Me and who?"

"Your father," Her mother said. "When you speak, the whole room lights up."

Maisie chuckled to herself. She couldn't quite believe that, as much as she pressured herself in the mirror to be bolder and edgier, like her siblings — well, minus Seb. "... What's his name?" A dangerous question, considering her mother and grandmother had avoided speaking his name for the last thirteen years, as if it would breathe life back into him. "Will you ever tell me?"

"When you're older," Reina promised as she squeezed her daughter's wrists and finally let go. "Then I'll tell you everything. You need rest right now, though, alright, little star?"

Nodding along, Maisie allowed Reina to guide her to bed where she was securely tucked in and left with a kiss on the head. I love you, Reina signed, seeing how truly exhausted her daughter was by the heaviness underneath her brown eyes. For always and forever.

"For always and forever," Maisie whispered in return.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟑

Max would never be enough for his grandfather. He learned this lesson when he was thirteen years old. Only a third year at Hogwarts, he was routinely berated by Walter Wozniak for his lack of promise in his work as an apprentice wandmaker. He would send owls to his shop in Diagon Alley, attached a wand prototype he perfected in the quietness of the basement where the Hufflepuff dormitory was located, and each time they would be sent back. He must've had two dozen by the year's end hidden underneath his bed. His mother consoled him as best she could; she had reminded him that Walter's affection was a scarce thing, and pining after it would only result in heartbreak. But, much like his father before him, he was obsessed with pursuing a meaningful relationship with the patriarch of the Wozniak family. He had begun losing hope as the years wore on. His first year of school came and went, as did his second, and by the time he was a teenager his perspective warped. It was fractured and jaded. He had made an outcast of himself, that was until he returned home for spring break and ventured into his attic room.

On the edge of his bed there was a folded piece of paper and, confused, Max hesitantly approached it and slowly picked it up. It had three names written on it: SPITFIRE, LIONHEART, and SILVERTAIL.

As he opened it carefully, he quickly took note of the fact that it was a map. In the middle, the lettering revealed its name, The Marauder's Map. Who were the Marauders? He sat down on his bed and began to connect the pieces, eyes widening as he realized it was a fully fleshed out map of the castle. He remained tucked underneath his blanket with his wand lighting up the dark confines so he could pick out each detail from what he could see on the pages.

It seemed to be a magical document that revealed all of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not only did it show every classroom, every hallway, and every corner of the castle, but it also showed every inch of the grounds, as well as all the secret passages that were hidden within its walls and the location of every person in the grounds, portrayed by a dot. It was also capable of accurately identifying each person, and was not fooled by animagi, Polyjuice Potions, or Invisibility Cloaks; even the Hogwarts ghosts.

When he inspected the bottom of the map, he noticed a note had been written.

For you, who dreams of bigger things. Lionheart will always be here.

He used the map daily. As soon as he returned to Hogwarts, he would utilize it as a way of keeping track of his siblings who roamed the halls and attended classes and Quidditch games. They quickly became concerned with how involved he suddenly was in their day to day lives, but at least he had something that kept him occupied. He hardly even thought about wandmaking anymore — naturally, that made the future all the more frightening, as now he wasn't certain what he'd be doing, but maybe this would lead him to something bigger and better, if he could figure out the magic behind the map.

He took on Magical Theory as an elective and threw himself into his work, eliciting responses from his professors that caught him off guard at first. You remind me a lot of that Jensen boy that went missing. Always looking for new ways to showcase his talents. What are you trying to prove, Maxwell? He'd always scrunch his nose up and deny the similarities, as all he'd heard about the Jensens had been awful.

The more he studied the map, the more engrossed he became with the creators. Who were Spitfire, Lionheart, and Silvertail? They were clearly aliases, juvenile ones at that, so they couldn't have been much older than him. And it seemed that Lionheart was looking out for Hogwarts students — or maybe it was just him. It had to have been, right? He tried not to get too distracted by their possible identities, knowing it was more important he learn about the mechanics behind such a rare magical object.

"Whatcha got there, Maxie?" His twin spoke up one afternoon as he was watching their brothers race between Potions and Transfiguration. Brown eyes cut a glance while he released a sigh.

"Just a map," he dismissed, beginning to fold it neatly so he could return it to its rightful place beneath his pillow.

Before he could tuck it away for no one else to see, Maisie trotted over and snatched it from his hands. He protested at first, but she pretended as if she couldn't hear while she inspected the map. "... These dots," she said, squinting at the names that were displaced above each one. "They show where other people are? Here?"

Max gave a heavy sigh and crossed his arms. "Yes. What about it?"

"Where did you find this?" Maisie asked, gaze lifting so she could read her brother's lips as her hands were occupied.

"... It just showed up on my bed one day. I dunno," he said dismissively.

Maisie hummed, not seeming convinced as she sat on the edge of his bed and finally noticed the nicknames jotted down on the bottom of the map. "Who are Spitfire, Lionheart, and Silvertail?"

"That's... What I've been trying to figure out. Lionheart's the one that left it." Max slowly began explaining. It was always difficult to shut down his twin — she was notoriously nosy and stubborn. She must've inherited that from their grandfather.

A silence lingered in their conversation while Maisie tried to decipher what the nicknames could've hinted. Suddenly, she perked up and turned to her brother with bright eyes. "Silvertail," she repeated. "Mum has a streak of white in her hair. From when dad..."

"... You don't think ...?" Max trailed off, moving to take a seat beside her.

"It would make sense," Maisie said as they both analyzed the map. "And she said that Aunt Lainey was spicy. A spitfire. Like how Honey can be sometimes."

Max swallowed dryly, glancing over to her. "And Lionheart?" he asked, despite knowing the answer.

Leaning her head on his shoulder, Maisie couldn't resist smiling to herself as she trailed her fingertip over the chickenscratch nickname. "Father. Father was looking out for you, somehow."

"Somehow," he echoed, then rested his head atop hers and gave a sigh.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓

Harrison was the smartest in his class. He outranked even some professors at school, which made summer holiday dreadfully boring with nothing to do but watch television and occasionally crack open a new book whenever his siblings weren't dragging him outside for one activity or another. He generally liked spending time with his family, but he also valued his alone time, something that was practically nonexistent when he got the privilege of seeing them everyday. This time, they had coaxed him out of the hole that was his bedroom and ushered him onto the beach nearby so he could catch a few rays of sun and walk the halls of Hogwarts next year with a fresh tan that his mother assured all the girls would appreciate. In all honesty, he cared very little about the opinions of others, except for Briar — the girl he'd been not-so secretly pining for since the moment he saw her during their sorting ceremony two years prior. So, he kept a stiff lip and carried a book down to the shore alongside the rest of his family for a day of rejuvenation.

Wearing headphones and listening to his newest favorite muggle band, R.E.M. and, naturally, reading a book on the history of magic for one of his upcoming classes when the next school year began in a few weeks. It was the tail end of summer, where the heat wasn't so unbearable anymore and he could actually enjoy the sun rather than cower away from the heatwaves that infiltrated their home. Not even the ocean breeze could clear up the thick swathes of hot, dry air that permeated in the atmosphere.

Halfway through his book, Sebastian came up behind him and tugged off his headphones. "We're supposed to be having fun," he nagged, holding the headphones up so Harrison couldn't grab onto them.

"I am having fun," Harrison insisted with a huff, reaching up higher for the headphones, which his brother didn't relinquish as easily as he was hoping. "Come on. Don't you have a volleyball game or something to get to?"

"Not everything is about sports, Harry," Sebastian chuckled as he fitted the headphones over his head and began listening to the song, humming along once he caught onto the rhythm. "... Briar would like this." he blurted before he could catch himself.

Harrison shuffled in his seat, side-eyeing his brother. Their rivalry over the Jensen girl had waged on for about a year at that point, which baffled Max, who couldn't see any redeeming qualities in a Jensen — while Briar was nice, the twin knew something was off-kilter with that entire family. Respecting the dead be damned, her father was a Death Eater, and as far as that strange, overachiever Slytherin that shared her last name went, she was even worse. But neither Harrison nor Sebastian equated a person's worth to their name. If they did, then they could've all easily been judged as unsentimental assholes like their grandfather.

"Give me that," Harrison grumbled as he snatched the headphones off of Sebastian's head and adjusted them on his own again. "Go on, then. Go bother Indie or something, since you two are so attached at the hip."

Sebastian chuckled warmly and gave a shrug. "It's called youngest girl and youngest boy bond, Harry. You should understand that." he said, remaining in place. "And she seems just fine with Hon right now."

Glancing over, Harrison noticed that their sisters were building a sandcastle together, and a smile quirked in the corner of his mouth before he cleared his throat and returned to his book. "Then go cream over Briar somewhere else." he dismissed.

"You should give that to her," Sebastian said as he finally stood up and dusted off the sand that stuck to his legs and swim trunks. "I mean it. She'd like it a lot. I don't think she listens to much muggle music."

"Thanks for the advice," Harrison said dismissively, turning up the volume on his Walkman so he could drown out the rest of what his brother was saying. Eventually, the younger one backed out of the one-sided conversation and returned to having his own fun. Visibly relaxed, Harrison would occasionally glance over his sunglasses to where his family was playing in the sand and ocean. Admittedly, he never thought he quite fit in with them. He functioned much better in an academic setting, as that's where he thrived mentally. Anywhere else and he fumbled hard. It's why he'd been so fixated on Briar all those years; he never saw her over the summer, and associated her with the comfort of Hogwarts.

He tried imagining Briar on the beach. Suntanning in a bikini, maybe. A grin appeared on his lips, albeit a faint one. Or maybe she'd partake in the same activities as his sisters. Or maybe, just maybe, she would rather sit on the sidelines with him and read a book and relax underneath a cool umbrella. They could exchange thoughts about the narrative and he could actually take Sebastian's offer on showing her the album he had bought on cassette.

Redness developed in his cheeks and his eyes drifted back to where he'd left off in his book. Sometimes, he wished he had his father around so that he could give him advice he could truly count on. No matter how pure Sebastian had always been, he was just as competitive, and Harrison saw through that veneer better than anyone. They were brothers, after all. One blood. He didn't often find himself missing their father, because he was only a year old when he disappeared along with one of the triplets, but when he did it always came as a surprise to him, as he never knew that kind of life. How do you miss something you never truly had? Quite easily, you'd find.

But he brushed the thought off once more and began reading again, content in his spot out of the sun and to himself.

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕

It was the last game before winter holiday — Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Sebastian was always happy to go head to head against his rival house, as they never failed to disappoint. They made the crowds go wild and he adored the attention he received from everyone as the Seeker. Since it was the last game, all his siblings plus his mother had shown up for the event, inspiring him to push through until the very end. He could see them in the stands, wearing yellow, red, green and blue, and he did slow down the team at times from waving so much at them out of pure, unadulterated excitement. He was most excited to see Briar, however, who he could spot from a mile away without even blinking first. She looked ethereal, as always, and he found it difficult to focus when he knew that her eyes were tracking his every movement as he ducked and dodged the other players so he could capture the snitch and secure another Gryffindor victory. He even entertained the idea of inviting her to the afterparty they would throw in their common room, but part of him thought he was getting ahead of himself and he chose to focus on the moment for the sake of his teammates.

He looked up at some point and, just as he spotted a gold streak zip across the sky, he witnessed two players from opposite teams crash into one another and pinwheel out of the sky. His eyes widened, careening his broom so that he could meet them at the bottom of the pitch where they had landed. A medic was swiftly called for them yet Sebastian was the first on the ground. To his horror, he had recognized one of the players as one of his closest friends, and he reached out instinctively to latch onto his hand.

"Lockwood, are you alright?" Sebastian asked, worry lacing every syllable as he squeezed the other's hand tightly in assurance that he wouldn't leave. He might've been his rival, but he was still a person, someone that cared about Quidditch just as much as he did. When he only received a groan in pain as an answer, he forced himself away so that the medics could tend to him. "Make — make sure he's okay." he said weakly as the other was carted away on a cot.

Subsequently, the game was postponed, and Sebastian trudged himself into the locker rooms so he could shower and change out of his sweat-stained clothes before he met his family for dinner. Instead of heading directly for the dining hall, however, he made a b-line to the hospital wing in the hopes of checking in on both his teammate and his friend. Alas, he was shut down by one of the nurses and told only immediate family were allowed in as they recovered from their extensive injuries.

"Can I wait here until I can see them, at least?" Sebastian asked. There would be plenty of family dinners, he thought, but only one chance where he could prove how much he cared about Noah in his time of need.

The nurse relented, and Sebastian found a seat in the waiting room as the hours ticked by. He nervously rubbed his hands together, glancing up at the clock while each minute ticked away painfully slow. Gradually, he watched as their family members arrived and began making decisions for them, which he found a little ridiculous — they were all almost grown, coming up on their eighteenth birthdays. But he knew it wasn't his place to interfere, so he remained on the bench for the first time in his life. He tried to put himself in their position; if it were one of his siblings, or someone like Briar, who he saw as an extension of his heart, he would want privacy as well. As night fell, one of the nurses approached him again and asked if he wanted to return to his dorms.

"I'll take it from here," Reina spoke up. She offered a kind smile to the nurse, who side-eyed her before retreating behind her desk once more. "Sebby. What are you still doing here?" she asked gently, sitting beside him and placing a comforting hand on his back.

"I... I had to make sure Lock— Noah would be okay," Sebastian answered, feeling relieved at the calming touch.

Reina nodded along in understanding. "I'm sure he'll be fine, sweet boy," she hummed. "You Quidditch players are tough eggs to crack. Your father — he tried it once, it wasn't his cup of tea." she indulged with a blithe chuckle.

Sebastian's eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at his hands. She hardly ever mentioned his father nowadays. It was like she was actively trying to forget he ever existed. It would've hurt less if she hadn't already filled his head with fantasies of what he used to be like when he was a baby or before he was born.

"... I don't want to talk about him anymore." Sebastian said honestly. He glanced over so he could see her reaction, watching as her expression fell and her complexion paled. She seemed embarrassed, or maybe upset with herself for bringing it up. Maybe both. Either way, he knew he needed to cement it that if there was no chance of ever meeting this mysterious father of his, he would rather not hear about how perfect life was before he evaporated in thin air.

His mother swallowed and pulled away from him. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "Force of habit."

"It's just — he isn't here anymore, y'know? I never had him the way that the twins and Honey did. India doesn't even remember him," Sebastian continued, word vomit forming in his mouth the more he talked. "He's just... He's just a ghost. And I don't want to be haunted by all of what could've been."

Reina brushed some curls out of his face, her soft smile making him melt inside. "Okay," she said quietly. "I understand, Sebastian. I do. I hope your friends get better soon."

He nodded along, looking down at his shoes. "Yeah," he murmured. "Me too, momma."

[barrenstars]

to be completely fair, yannik doesn't really know how they end up getting paired up so often, but it's happened again and yannik is once again with the sorcerer who'd once locked them in a room while she ran off to do only the gods know what. this time, the situation isn't as dire, as they both actually have the time to sit and talk unlike last time. " maybe, " they begin quietly, eyes on hot mug of coffee they hold near mouth, " i'll get you out of my head. maybe i'll forget all the things you said. "

@sociieties / unpromoted.

she knows why. she knows fine and well why they kept getting paired up together, and it was purely out of amusement. the elders must have been getting a kick out of her embarrassment, why else would they torture her like this? ( maybe they just made a good pair! ) either way, reina sits across from yannik, cheeks tinted a soft pink as she stares down at her peach iced tea, unable to make eye contact with him. they weren't out exorcising curses. no, they sat in the lounge of the hotel they were in with their drinks while their rooms got prepared. rooms; meaning they had managed to get two separate rooms this time. thank god for that.

when he begins, reina glances up and over, lips parting as he breaks the silence between them. blinking a few times, she finds herself unable to think straight, awkwardly looking off to the side with a small pout. ❝ ... why am i in your head? ❞ it was a fair question, one many would voice. but reina thinks back to the time she almost ruined his entire life based on something she was completely wrong about. it still weighs heavy on her heart, even after he's made it known it doesn't bother him.

and that's how she takes it when he finishes. 'maybe i'll forget all the things you said.' she was so rude to him back then, and did some unnecessary things to him. reina knows she has some nerve to like him the way she does, but it didn't matter much considering she had no intentions of telling him. slouching back into her seat, her shoulders drop and so does her gaze, her pout turning into a slight frown. lifting a hand to her cheek, she feels the heat radiate from her face and she wants to scream. ❝ i'm... really sorry. i can't apologise enough for how i acted. i must be the last person on earth you want to be around. ❞