#for a while it just feels so uncanny. something is wrong. something is different. but you can’t change it back since it’s gone

[spirirsstuff]

sorry i died today i got some news yesterday and the existential dread really set in today

[lgbtlunaverse]

This page from the adventurer's bible makes me want to cry

Like basically any neurodivergent dungeon meshi fan, I see a lot of myself in the Touden siblings. But I was blindsided by just how much I suddenly related to Falin in this little comic from the adventure bible's complete version.

It's about the Touden siblings' differing relationships with their parents, and why Laios still holds their treatment of Falin against them, while Falin herself doesn't.

We know that Falin was isolated and ostraziced by their village after she saved Laios from a ghost, displaying her uncanny affinity for magic. Her parents, instead of defending her, sent her away, which angered Laios so much he ran way himself before Falin even left for magic school, hoping to make a living so he and Falin could live together alone.

He tells Marcile this, but when she goes to Falin, she says she sees things differently. Her father sent her to magic school to protect her form the rest of the village without having to cause a conflict. He didn't explain that, and we actually see her burst into tears when he says it.

But, well... Laios was gone for a year before Falin went to magic school, and everyone else in the village avoided her. The understanding Falin has with her parents to me looks like one borne out of necessity, she literally didn't have anyone else to talk to.

And this is where we get to the page that made me want to cry

Like I said, I relate to the Toudens because I'm neurodivergent myself. that feeling of suddenly realizing you're disliked, but not knowing what you did wrong or what you should have done instead? Yeah... that's one I recognize.

When I was around 9 years old, the same age Falin is in this comic, a bunch of kids in my class decided to make a "game" where you lost if you touched me. It was basically the 'cheese-touch' from diary of a wimpy kid, except I always had it and couldn't pass it along. They'd pretend I was poisonous or disgusting and run away from me screaming or gagging. The point was to make fun of me. But my autistic little 9 year old ass thought "Oh I get it! It's tag but I'm always it!" So I... played along. Running at a boy and having him fall on the ground screaming in fake pain because you tapped him is, in isolation, pretty funny.

It wasn't until months into the "game" that I realized it was meant to be meanspirited. That the reason I was the one who was always 'it' wasn't an arbritrary rule but the whole point. Because I was weird and gross. I wasn't in on the joke, I was the punchline.

Falin may have come to understand her parents' intentions, but she didn't always. The adventure bible actually tells us that she at first didn't even notice that the rest of their village disliked her. She clearly knows now, but she had to be told. So when her mom tried to exorcise her, she just saw it as an activity she got to do with a mother she usually didn't get to spend much time with because of her poor health. It's only Laios who notices something is wrong.

(Sidenote, Laios being hyper-aware of people's poor attitudes towards Falin but completely blindsided when he's in the same spot, like with Toshiro, is also very relatable as an eldest sibling)

It probably also took Falin months, until after her brother had left and she had no one but her parents, to realize why her mother had been doing all those things.

And I know they're not the same. Even misguidedly, Falin's mom was trying to help her, not make fun of her like those boys in my class. (Though, as a queer person who also cares a lot about the queercoding in Falin's storyline, a parent trying to 'exorcise' their child of a fundamental part of them the parent thinks is evil or corruptive? yeah... that's not perfectly wholesome)

But do you know what I did, when I finally figured out the game was always meant to make fun of me?

To me, it looked like I had a choice.

See, those boys eventually figured out I didn't understand that they were being mean to me. I'd laugh every time I managed to catch one of them, I was visibly having fun. And while it no doubt only made me more of a weirdo in their eyes, they never informed me that I shouldn't be enjoying myself. That the point was for me to feel hurt.

So now that I did know, I had a choice. I could either get upset, and let the insult land as it was supposed to. That wouldn't stop them, because making fun of me was the original goal. Or I could ignore it and go on as usual. They had already accepted that I didn't get it, and they weren't gona stop me from having fun, so why should I?

And the thing is that I had... one friend, in that whole class. One person who actually liked talking to me and hanging out with me. I was lonely. And the 'game' provided me with another social interaction, mean-spirited as it was, that I desperately needed. And it was so delightfully simple. Navigating actual friendships as a kid with autism and adhd was so fucking complicated, and I'd never know when I might break an inivisble rule. But I knew the rules to the game perfectly!

Sometimes, if I was chasing one of them, the others would trap him and hold him down so I could tap him. In those moments it actually did kind of feel like I was playing with them, rather than against them. And it didn't change much, they didnt start actually liking me. But they were willing to roll with the fact that I wasn't upset, and I took advantage of that because I needed to.

So you can look at Falin seeing the best in her parents as her being naïve, but I look at this page and I see myself, at first unable to differentiate between playing and being made fun of. And then later, when I did see the difference, deciding not to get mad about it because that'd mean losing that social interaction, and I couldn't afford to.

Like I said, Falin probably first realized this in the year she spent with her brother gone, and everyone else avoiding her like the plague. If she refused to talk to her parents, like Laios did, she'd have no one left.

I see a lot of people relating to the fight between Laios and Toshiro. that frustration when you realize someone you thougth was your friend actually hates you, and they never said anything, never gave you a chance to fix it because you had no idea that you were even doing something wrong! And I can see that, too. But sometimes, when people don't fully hate you, it feels better to go along with the pretending. Because adressing it won't fix it. Because the problem isn't a specific behaviour, it's you. And if they're willing to tolerate you, despite the fact that it's you, then you'll take it. Because other people do hate you, so this is the best you'll get.

[oneforthemunny]

carry out |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: you had a hard day. eddie's there to take care of you.

the janitor!eddie smut you all wanted.

contains: 18+ MINORS DNI, fluffy a little, soft and sweet eddie, oral fem receiving, fingering fem

Eddie knew something was wrong with you at lunch.

You had this uncanny ability to brighten a room just with your appearance, a radiating and attracting positivity that shined bright and attracted others to it easily. It was what first drew Eddie to you, that beautiful glow that wrapped around him like a warm hug and pulled him in tightly, safely.

Oh, how he loved it. How he was envious of everyone you shared it with. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it just for himself, selfishly, store as much of it away in case you ever left him- God, he hoped with every fiber of his being you never did.

Today was different. Eddie's face lit up, perking up in the metal chairs of the teacher's lounge when you walked in, but this time, your face was sullen. A little droopier and pouty than usual.

"You alright, honey?" Eddie asked gently. He knew you didn't like a lot of PDA during school hours, wanting to keep it as professional as possible to avoid HR.

You sighed heavily, jabbing your pasta salad with a fork. "Yeah," You muttered, but your eyes didn't lift from your Tupperware container. "'M just tired."

That was an understatement.

Drained, was more accurate, Eddie decided. Emotionally, physically, mentally just drained, sucked dry of all energy. You'd managed to muster up enough energy, enough fake smiles and exaggerated tones to get through the rest of your lessons. Steve had offered to take your class down for drop off, which you were beyond thankful for.

You stood in the doorway, ushering your students into a line for Mr. Harrington, grinning though your smile didn't meet your eyes. Eddie watched from the edge of the hall, pushing his cart lazily to get the trash.

"Hey," Eddie called, abandoning his cart against the wall. You looked up at him, tired eyes and slumped shoulders. "You alright, sweetheart? You feeling ok?"

Your eyes cut around you, looking at the other teachers in the hall watching the two of you. Of course they knew you were in a relationship, everyone did, but today you couldn't bring yourself to dealing with their cutting glances.

Stepping into your classroom, you shut the door behind you and Eddie, leaning against it on the handle. "Ed, I am just so tired." You sighed heavily, head falling back on the door. "Today was... Today was a lot."

Eddie's face fell, lips pressing together gently. He searched your expression, your features, for any quirk or cue of something he could do, something he could read into to make it better for you.

"I'm sorry, baby." Eddie sighed helplessly. Fuck, did he hate feeling helpless. "What can I do to make it better? You wanna talk about it? Scream about it?" He teased lightly.

Your lips tugged in the corner ever so slightly, but your eyes remained dull. "I just wanna go home." You sighed, nodding slightly.

"Ok," Eddie croaked, tracking you gently while you grabbed your purse and bags from your desk. "I'll, uh, I'll finish up here and-and I'll head home soon, ok? I'll be super quick." His heart rate was rising a little too uncomfortably quick. He could hear the trilling thump ringing in his ears, palms sweating.

"Ok, honey," You muttered, pulling out your own keys. "I don't think I have it in me to cook tonight. I'm sorry."

Eddie shook his head fiercely, pulling you into his chest. "Don't worry about that." He said fiercely. God, was he such a dick you thought you needed to apologize for not cooking? Did he make you feel like you had to? What was wrong with him?

"I'll take care of it, ok? I'll take care of you." Eddie leaned forward, his curly bangs tickling your forehead.

You lifted your eyes to his, taking in those pretty brown eyes that always had you melting with the slightest gaze. "Let me take care of you tonight, sweetheart. I know you had a rough day." He cooed, hand moving to cup your cheek gently.

You turned into his palm, placing your hand over top of his own. Eddie flushed, familiar heat rising through his chest. There was that warmth, the one he'd been missing from you all day, a small glimmer peeking through the cloudy fog.

"I'll see you when you get home." You muttered, lifting to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was brief, soft, left him aching for more, but enough to soothe his buzzing nerves.

Eddie finished gathering the trash and wiping down desks in record time, practically sprinting to his van after he locked up, flying down the roads towards your small home.

He found you on the couch, which he was thankful for, changed out of your school clothes, curled up and watching a movie. Relaxing, he was glad.

You turned to greet him, looking over the couch with half lidded eyes, still drooped and dull from the day, muttering a greeting towards him. Eddie was practically shedding his coveralls (the school mandated ones that made him feel confined and silly).

"Do you want me to cook, or do you want me to call something in?" Eddie asked, bustling into the kitchen, uniform bunched around his waist, flipping through the drawers for the menus.

You sighed with a shrug. "Whatever you want to do." You muttered, lazily leaning into your palm. "'M not very hungry."

"Baby," Eddie sighed, a soft edge to his tone.

"I just..." You hesitated, craning your neck to look back over at him. "Can you just come sit with me? Please?"

And how could Eddie not oblige? Why would he ever want to deny you? He'd rip his own heart straight out of his chest if you asked him to.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked gently, settling on the couch next to you. His hands found your legs, pulling them into his lap, spreading the blanket over the two of you. "You alright?"

"I just had a really long day." You let out a long breath. "I just... I don't even want to think anymore. I don't want to think about dinner, or-or school, or anything other than just being here with you right now."

Eddie nodded slowly, fingertips tracing featherlight patterns on your shins. "Anything I can do to help?" He didn't mean for his voice to carry that tone when he asked, but he offered it nonetheless.

He was a little surprised when you didn't grin or snort, just looked up at him with brows drawn up and rounded eyes. "Please?" You asked gently.

Eddie stilled, body going rigid slightly with shock. "Yeah?" He asked, a blush creeping gently up his neck. "I mean, if-if that's what you want."

"I honestly can not think of anything better to help me relax." You admitted softly.

Eddie couldn't help but grin, all dimples and twinkling eyes that glistened hungrily over your frame. You in your sweat pants and his t-shirt, his favorite version of you; well, besides you naked.

"Sweetheart, all you have to do is ask." Eddie grinned. "You know I can't get enough of you. Fuckin' delicious, you know that."

You blush under the vulgar praise, a tiny grin that leaves Eddie reeling. He's on his knees in front of you, shimmying your sweatpants off and fixing himself so he's got each thigh on his shoulder. He's practically drooling at the sight of your cunt.

Your hands find his hair easily, brushing through his curls with a content sigh, melting further into the couch while Eddie places sloppy smooches to the inside of your thighs. Teasing, just barely, he couldn't deny himself much longer.

Pillowy lips pressed against your mound, nose nuzzling into the light wiry hair there, breathing in your scent deeply. You sigh heavy. "Please, Ed, don't tease me."

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. Never, for you. Calloused hands pressing under your thighs, lifting your legs a little higher for him, plump lips kissing your slit once with a full, wet kiss. Then again, this time, his tongue slipping gently between your folds.

You squirmed, his tongue licking a stripe through your sopping pussy, teasing over your clit. Enough to get your hands gripping his hair a little harder, pulling him up back to your swollen bundle of nerves.

Eddie moaned, flattening his tongue to lick a wide stripe through you again, going back to lap at your sopping hole, catch every last one of your delectable taste. His nose nuzzled into your clit, leaving you hips bucking with movement.

"Ed," You whined, nasally and airy. "Please, right there. Use your tongue there." You pulled on his curls, raising him to your clit, throbbing and desperate for relief.

Eddie obliged. Of course, he did. He was good to you like that.

Lips curling around your clit, he lapped and suckled at your sensitive spot, eyes watching you carefully. With every flutter of that magnificent mouth, you were gasping, thighs closing around his head, squirming and rocking on the couch.

Eddie grinned, his jaw was aching a little, but he could see through your face, pinched eyes and small gasps, you were enjoying it. Your back arched, fingers knotted into Eddie's thick curls when his pointer finger sunk into you, curling into your spongey walls with ease.

"Oh, fuck, Ed. Right there, right there, oh!" You whined, hips grinding and rolling onto his mouth,

Your toes curled hard, heels digging into the blades of his back. "Please, oh fuck, I'm so close." You panted. "K-Keep doing that. Yes, that, right there."

Eddie pulled back gently, a second finger pumping in and out of you, thumb reaching up to circle your clit. "You got it, baby." He breathed out slowly. "I got you. I got you."

Your eyes rolled back, a black staticy vision consuming your sight when his lips wrapped around your clit again. Your hips jumped, sharp and thrusting with impulse, thighs quivering at the sensation. You could feel the pressure building, the lewd sloshing sound filling the room, missing with your pants and whines in a vulgar symphony; music to Eddie's ears. Fucking beautiful, he wanted to play it over, and over, and over.

A final curl of his fingers, brushing that aching spot inside of you had you spilling over, a wet release that flooded all over Eddie. He didn't let up once, not even with the burning in his jaw, or the way you were smothering him into your wetness. He'd gladly waterboard himself in your essence, that was hardly punishment in his eyes, more like his own paradise.

Your chest heaved, body shaking and spasming with every violent after shock that followed. Eddie waited until your were pushing him away, light presses of your palm to his forehead after he lapped you up.

Eddie laid his cheek against your inner thigh, resting it there while he watched you, slumped into the couch, chest heaving and eyes glassy.

"You-You're way too good at that." You shuddered after a moment, slinging your arm over your eyes. You could hear your heartbeat ringing through your ears, pussy clenching and spasming around nothing with every aftershock that shook and tore through you.

Eddie grinned. "You flatter me, baby." He teased, pressing a sweet kiss to the soft skin of your thighs.

You shook your head furiously. "No way." You moaned lightly. "There's no good reason you should be that good at eating me out."

Eddie blushed, snorting lightly, cheek resting back against your skin. The featherlight tickle of his long, dark lashes against your skin had you shivering lightly. "You feel better?" Eddie asked, those same long lashes batting up at you sweetly. Oh, you wanted to kiss him. If you thought you'd be able to move easily, you would.

You nodded, instead, a small smile gracing your lips. Eddie saw it, that same twinkle back in your eyes, breaking through the fragments of you that he knew so well. "I do," You hummed, brushing his curls gently behind his ear. He melted into your touch. "You always get me so good, baby. Take such good care of me."

Eddie burned with praise, moving to press a kiss to the palm of your hand, hiding his blushing cheeks. "So," Eddie groaned lightly, moving out from under you, stretching to grab your discarded sweatpants.

"Now that I've eaten," He grinned, leaving you blushing. "What would you like to eat?"

"You chose." You sighed heavily. "I'm not picky."

Eddie smirked, shimmying your pants up slowly. If he knew you (and he did), you'd want Chinese food. You'd told him once, that shitty days called for Chinese food, and good days called for pizza. He wasn't sure what your logic was behind that, but he didn't care. It was you, your logic, your thoughts, and all you. He was thankful, stupidly so, that he was apart of you, could share those small details with you, and wanted to know every single other one.

In time, he would, but for now; he just wanted to know what your bad day was about. You'd tell him later over half bites of noodles, voice gravely and soft. He'd listen, he always did, it was what you loved about him, so caring and attentive. You'd go to bed, and tomorrow would be better. It would be a better day for the both of you. You'd return with that same warm glow that had Eddie dizzy and wanting more.

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures; extended ---

hello, i remembered i made some subjective explanations and notes on few of my choices for this post, and i thought some folks might enjoy it. soo let's get into it.

1.

monty finch

author: anders krisár

pretty self-explanatory; it's a moulded male torso with visible inprints on its skin.

anders krisár’ artistry explores the themes of loss, separation, and the condition of the psyche through the lens of a human body in duality: perfectionism meets unsettlement, skin meets marble and bronze and polyester, to create sculptures spanning geological time far beyond the living's capabilities.

monty's creation by esther was already stripped of any human agency. "he was made a boy, not a person", small, almost doll-sized, with a singular purpose: to seduce and entice the chosen dead boy into their doom. the naked skin and specifically the position of its arms are mildly erotic, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. the imprints are intimate, placed possesive; notice the thumbs digging close to especially sensitive areas like nipples and the belly button.

the latter seems to connect the "creator" to the subject, the navel here as a symbol of cruel, invasive motherhood. the fact that the torso is cut off in the middle and at the neck furthers the uncanny valley feeling of a young male body, but then again. this is a realistic portrayal. so was it ever a person? what does it have inside to make dents so profound? how deep you can press until it breaks?

--- i'm leaving out crystal and edwin (for now?), but @nicheoverhere brilliantly noticed that it was the same author for both. that was intentional! because glen martin taylor is all about taking kintsugi, which is a beautiful art form of repairing fine china and generally delicate things with veins of precious metals, but with materials like— nails. scissors. barbed wire. all ugly. the repair after a great shattering is seldom pretty after all, they really are similar in this regard. ---

2.

charles rowland

author: robert hudson

okay, strap in. this funky dreamy world belongs to robert hudson, and i picked it for charles rowland because it's all first impressions. the colours? the composition? they give you the 80s vibes, almost; like something a kid would design if you asked them what a time machine would look like. it could probably move in several ways. the pieces seem mismatched, but hold themselves together surprisingly well. or maybe you underestimate it?

it's neither big nor small. you can't tell its size at all. it's a bit overwhelming to look at, at first, and at second, and after a while, but it carries that comfortable familiarity and nostalgia for— well, nothing in particular, because the longer you look, the sadder its past seems. the bold pops of contrasting colour are fighting for your attention. they want you to like it! and yet, the major material seems to be just. rusted steel. made from tools.

and look at that botched up sphere, it wants so badly to be a perfect sphere and it knows it'll never be one. fine!! perhaps it could be a football ball instead! or maybe a head. if you close your eyes, that is. and this facing-up horseshoe? a lucky charm, made to collect good luck and keep it from falling out cause god, it needs it.

---

3.

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud

---

niko sasaki, now how do i describe her? let's start by saying— she's cleary a her. this one is a she. and there's something to be said about blooming, and femininity, and delicacy, because pink is a hopeful girly colour and a surprise and a delight.

what are you doing in a gallery, little flower, shouldn't you be at home? in a field? look how pretty you are! mind you, of course there's something wrong with her as well, but you're not sure if that is because someone messed it up, or because of a different entity alltogether. was it always half-electric? its elegance seems purposeful— the iridescent metal fits all too well with the white-pink petals— but also uncanny. and oh suddenly you can't stop looking at the stigma from which a pollen should release aaany time now.

when i look at her, at her black artificial stem and the small leaves imitating the real ones, i wonder if she doesn't want to lure me into a trap. is it her fault?

the beautiful petals seem like the only thing left real of the flower. whichever way she turns, it will probably mean— death. and flowers are ephemeral. what is a flower mounted to a wall, fortified with steel, connected with cables and enfused with electrical energy, then?

i think she's a self-preserving survivor. ---

4.

the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

---

now. the night nurse.

of course it's the only piece in the collection where the background needed to be dark. no one here is older than her. there is no inoffensive, fading-into-background white for this absolute pillar of truth. or maybe something like a totem, quite protective in nature. and it's terrifying, 'cause you're immediately hit with the feeling that you're looking at something out of this realm, something you're not supposed to witness. the perspective is all wrong. is it downwards or upwards? why does it seem unstable when the pieces are so perfectly centered and seemingly well-balanced? child, you should calm down, it's not like you will destroy it with a stronger puff of air. will you?

this sculpture is called "tipping point — echoes of extinction", and it's actually a mix of technology and sculpture and sound, with elegant visualizations of the lost voices of birds and sea mammals. the author said it "was conceived in reverence to the astounding lives the species which envelop humans have lived and the mysterious ways they have contributed to our well-being. the shadows of their memory, whether a shape or a sound, have inspired this project." so the piece deals with death. moreover, it deals with murder. it records the harsh reality and makes sure the ones that suffered horribly at the hands of humans are, in a way, celebrated. but also— categorised. like epitaphs. the birdsong, once a living sign, is only visually represented by the lines of varying lenghts in 3D, and you can do nothing about it anymore, right, you can't bring back the dead, you can't help the innocent dying in any way other than— stacking them on top of each other and moving on.

---

so that's for now, i might someday write more if anyone's curious. :")

[primaviva]

WASTED SUMMERS

PAIRINGS: gwen stacy x fem!reader, gwen stacy x miles morales (platonic)

SYNOPSIS: one minute you were fighting the vulture, the next you were caring for gwen stacy. she hated you at first and thought you were just another person taking pity on her. as the two of you became closer, gwen realized she needed you. maybe as a friend or maybe as something more. but that all changed once miles came back. two months later, you were dropped. just like that. was everything between you two just all in your head? she said it herself, you were just a waste of time.

WARNINGS: heavy angst, mentions of blood / injury, misunderstandings trope, gwen bein in her own world as always, jealousy and big arguments, as well as super long and not proof read ?? that’s all

as the sun stretched its golden rays across the landscape, a gentle warmth enveloped the city, signaling the arrival of summer.

being a normal kid was never in the cards for you. after all, you possessed incredible spider powers that set you apart from the rest. you longed for someone who could relate to the exhilaration, the struggles, and the responsibility that came with being spiderwoman. while others could confide in friends or family about their daily lives, you carried the weight of your powers silently, unable to share the truth with anyone.

but then, everything changed when the events of kingpin's collider unfolded. in that moment, you crossed paths with numerous individuals who were just like you spider people from their own dimensions. finally, you found people who shared your struggles, faced similar challenges, and could truly empathize with what you were going through.

however, you didn't spend much time with them. being new to the mantle, you were still coming out of your shell a little. you still made bonds back then, don’t get yourself wrong. those relationships just weren’t as deep as others like miles and peter or miles and… her.

but things were different now. since then, you've undergone such a transformation.

seeing all of them made you feel normal, not just that you found people who understood you completely. it brought you back to the feeling of when you were a regular teen girl with friends to always hang out with and little crushes. there was a sense of normalcy.

you thought you’d never see them again, until you did.

some time ago, a spider-man named miguel o'hara from a different dimension came forward, boldly claiming his identity as a fellow spider-powered hero. he had taken it upon himself to establish a spider society and extended an invitation for you to join. according to him, he sought someone level-headed like you, someone who could contribute in a meaningful way to the group. at first, it was strange how miguel seemed to possess an uncanny knowledge of your existence. he was well-versed in the details of your encounters, from the kingpin's collider incident to significant moments in your reality that held personal significance for you. he skillfully employed this knowledge to persuade you to make a decision.

despite your initial skepticism, you ultimately said yes, and that marked the beginning of a profound journey. it was through this experience that you delved into the enigmatic concept of the “arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse.” the intricate web of realities, the existence of canon events, and the watches that held the power of multiversal travel. it was akin to schrödinger's cat, where the multiverse and quantum mechanics transformed into theories or knowledge.

but miguel had this factual certainty in his beliefs, and his conviction remained steadfast. you couldn't shake the feeling that there were inherent flaws in his belief system. despite your reservations though, you decided to join. after all, there was no harm in aiding these "anomalies" in finding their way back to their rightful dimensions, was there?

and so, within this newfound spider society, you found yourself reunited with familiar faces like peter, peni, and even new people like hobie, london's very own spider-man.

you thought it was over and your life would continue as normal until miguel called you in.

“(y/n)? get to hq right now, i need you to prepare for another anomaly to be sent back!” he yelled through your watch suddenly.

he sounded out of breath, almost like he was mid running while calling you.

“señor o’hara? the hell, what work are you putting in right now? it sounds like you’re screaming at me from underwater,” you teased as you began to open a portal back to the society.

“now’s not the time for your jokes,” he groaned and you could visibly imagine the look of annoyance on his face. “jessica and i are on our way back with the vulture.”

before you could respond, he abruptly ended the call, leaving you hanging. a few minutes passed as you readied a secure enclosure using the advanced technology provided by the spider society. the vulture, regardless of the variant, always had a penchant for escape, making it crucial to have proper containment measures in place.

lost in your thoughts, you were startled when an imposing figure, resembling an ancient bird, materialized before you, bound in handcuffs. miguel, handling the vulture, swiftly placed him in the designated "jail" alongside the other detained anomalies

"thanks," he whispered, acknowledging your assistance.

you hummed in response as you leaned against the wall. “where’s jessica?” you asked.

miguel muttered under his breath, "with the new recruit," prompting you to raise an eyebrow.

"a new recruit? funny how you conveniently forgot to mention that while you were harassing me over a watch," you remarked playfully.

"i didn't want to," miguel retorted, turning to face you. "but jessica convinced me."

nodding, you stepped closer to him, ready to delve deeper into the matter. however, before you could continue, heavy footsteps approached, and your eyes widened in disbelief.

it was gwen.

"gwen?" you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper, your shock evident.

her eyes widened, but she remained silent and looked down at her feet.

jessica shot you a meaningful look, silently conveying that gwen had been through something difficult and needed space. respecting her unspoken request, you held your questions, allowing gwen the time she needed to process whatever she had experienced.

that was the most that could be said about your initial encounter. you didn't blame her at first for preferring to be alone herself. jessica gave you a brief summary of what happened when her father learned of her identity. she shared no specifics, but all she said was that it went horribly wrong and that she would be staying with the spider society for the time being. it was up till miguel gave her a watch and assigned you the job of assisting her in settling in to make it official.

with gentle care, you grasped gwen's wrist, making sure the watch fit properly on her arm.

“i know miguel probably told you a bunch of word vomit about the watch already,” you began, releasing your grip on the timepiece and gesturing to the buttons. “but just so you don’t get confused, here is the button that activates the watch, while the one below deactivates it. and the actual purpose of the watch, these dials, they're for inputting the assigned dimension number when you're traveling."

gwen responded with a soft hum, her gaze avoiding yours as you looked up. it was evident that she still struggled to find her place, feeling like an outsider. gwen noticed you staring up at her and redirected her focus to you, raising an eyebrow in response.

“are you okay?” you asked her.

she almost rolled her eyes a little. she didn’t want you to take pity on her, nor did she want the attention.

“do i look okay?” she snapped back.

gwen just wanted to be alone, wishing she could retreat into a sanctuary where she could escape the guilt and betrayal that weighed heavily on her heart.

you exhaled a sigh, understanding her irritation and how she desired to keep to herself for now.

“sorry for wanting to know if you were doing better,” you replied with a bit of an attitude. “i know this can be a lot, and i heard about what happened with your dad… just know it’s not your fault. we can talk whenever, if you want to. but i get it, right now you just want space.”

with those words, you turned to walk away, intending to respect gwen's wishes. but before you could step away completely, gwen reached out, gripping your shoulder and gently turning you around. in an unexpected moment, she embraced you tightly.

as you felt a slight dampness on your neck, you realized that gwen's tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“thanks,” her voice came out muffled against your suit. “i’m sorry for acting like a jerk. it really is nice to see you, (y/n). i just have so much going on in my head right now. it’s nice to know that someone understands.”

“you don’t have to thank me for this,” you assured her in a gentle whisper as you rubbed circles into her back.

reluctantly, gwen pulled away, swiftly wiping beneath her eyes and revealing a toothy grin, her endearing gap peeking through.

you swear you felt your heart skip a beat.

it was a little rocky at first. gwen struggled to fully accept your unwavering support, leading to occasional conflicts and disagreements. however, as time passed, she gradually eased into the dynamic between you, recognizing that you genuinely cared for her. with each passing day, gwen's guard began to lower, and she started sharing what happened with her dad, details about her life like how she played with her band, the mary janes, and more.

gradually, gwen found herself seeking refuge at your place more often, drawn to the comfort and solace it provided. drawn to you, even. it’s to the point where she doesn’t even crash at hobie’s anymore. the space you two shared became a sanctuary for gwen, where she could truly be herself, unburdened by the weight of her past.

you two had become close friends, best friends even, but there was something that unsettled your mind about it. whenever she was around, a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursed through your veins as the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks. her presence had a way of making you feel giddy, and you found a joy you weren’t used to in her company.

however, everything began to change when miles returned.

the incident involving the spot was an utter mess. to make a stupid story short, what miguel had defined as an anomaly turned out to be untrue. the canon events were not set in stone but rather common traits among the spider people from different dimensions. the notion of a dimension being "destroyed" was debunked, as dimensions lost in the spiderverse would reset and begin anew beyond the confines of the connected spider universes.

at first, her visit to his universe surprised you. instead of tracking down the spot, she chose to spend time with him, even meeting his parents. you knew they had a deep connection from the first time they met, but witnessing their reunion made it apparent just how close they had become. the way she became so engrossed in him made you feel a pang of jealousy, seeing how effortlessly he captured her attention.

you realized that you hadn't spent much time with her lately, which only heightened your anticipation for the day you had planned to hang out.

again, it was summer. this was the time to hang out with friends, be out late, just do things just for the memories.

as you swung home on your webs you smiled as you took in the world around you.

the sunset blanketed the streets as skyscrapers stood tall, casting long shadows that provided a respite from the heat. bodies of water nearby offered a refreshing breeze to those caught outside in their sweat. the city's iconic landmarks, from the statue of liberty to the empire state building, glisten in the sunlight, their grandeur amplified by the orange and purple skies above. the aroma of street vendors' delicacies fills the air as you jump from building to building, enticing passersby with the sizzle of hot dogs, the tangy zest of pretzels, and the sweet smell of snow cones being sold around the corner. the laughter of children on playgrounds, the strumming of guitars by buskers, and the rhythmic beat of joggers' footsteps became music to your ears.

a broad smile illuminated your face as your eyes fell upon your beloved apartment. with a nimble grace, you hopped onto the fire escape, effortlessly maneuvering your way through the open window. there, on your bed, was gwen, nestled comfortably amidst the pillows. she had been staying at your place for the week, adding an extra touch of warmth to the familiar surroundings.

"whatchu doing, hobo?" you playfully quipped, unable to contain your amusement as you made your presence known.

gwen responded with a good-natured smirk, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "well, hello to you too," she replied, the faintest resistance to rolling her eyes evident in her tone.

stepping further into the room, you shrugged off your bag and placed it gently on your desk, allowing the weight of the day to slip away. the room seemed to exhale, embracing you in its familiar embrace.

curiosity sparked in your eyes as you observed gwen's relaxed state. "so, what did you do today?" you inquired, a genuine interest in her activities evident in your voice.

gwen shifted, propping herself up against the pillows, a contented smile gracing her lips. "well, miguel called me in a few times, but eventually i wasn't needed anymore, so i decided to spend the rest of the day here," she explained. "and you? how about you, my friendly neighborhood web-slinger? did you have any exciting adventures?"

the playful smile that adorned gwen's face mirrored your own, both of you relishing in the simplicity of these moments where you could just be two friends engaged in casual conversation.

"yeah, i did some stuff, but it seems villains nowadays want to take summer vacations," you joked, playfully stepping away from your desk and making your way toward her. "and now i have to change my clothes, so uh, leave," you said, adopting a faux-stern tone while placing your hands on your hips.

despite the fact that there was a perfectly fine extra room available, gwen had a penchant for invading your space, making your room her own. it had reached a point where it was hard to find your own belongings amidst her things, but you didn't mind. you cherished her company, understanding that she was still adjusting to living with her dad again, even after he had discovered her secret and grown to accept her.

"no thanks, i'm too comfortable now," gwen declared, shaking her head with a determined expression, refusing to budge.

you arched an eyebrow, your brow furrowing slightly as you licked your teeth. "fine."

turning away from gwen, you began to remove your shoes, followed by your gloves, setting them aside as you prepared to change.

as gwen noticed your actions, confusion flickered across her features, causing her to tilt her head slightly. "wait a minute, what are you doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows curiously.

"well, i did say i was gonna change, but since you're too lazy to leave my bed," you replied, extending your arm behind you, "this is me, changing."

with a firm grip on the zipper, you slowly pulled it downward, revealing your bare back as you opened the closet door and stepped behind it, concealing your figure from gwen's gaze.

gwen scoffed at your teasing remark, her cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. "hey, just because i enjoy some relaxation time doesn't mean i'm lazy," she protested, attempting to maintain her composure but failing in the face of your playful banter.

"better not peek or i'li put you out on the street," you warned.

"oh, please i’d like to see you try," gwen jested. she knew you were teasing, and she couldn't help but play along with you. "you wouldn't be able to, i'm too charming."

as you disappeared behind the closed closet doors, gwen's curiosity got the better of her, though she tried her best not to reveal her intrigue. unbeknownst to you, she leaned to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of your face through the crack in the doors.

"gwen," you called out, your tone stern.

her reverie shattered, gwen snapped back to reality, quickly retreating to her corner.

"ehmm, i'm not peeking," she mumbled, her face flushing a deeper shade of red. her gaze remained fixed on the small opening between the closet doors, but she did her best to prevent you from noticing.

"it's my superhero instinct to be super observant and all that," gwen explained, trying to justify her actions. "nothing sketchy going on here.”

with a piercing glare, you continued to observe her.

"o-okay, fine, i'm sorry," she conceded, her voice softening as she averted her gaze.

meanwhile, you proceeded to slide your spider suit down to your feet, kicking it off onto the floor before selecting a fresh set of clothes to wear. closing the closet doors, you turned to face gwen.

"i hate you," you retorted, referencing her playful intrusion during your changing process.

gwen rolled her eyes, her mischievous nature still present as she couldn't resist a bit of teasing.

"i love you too," she responded, offering a sly wink and a smirk. "don't worry, i didn't see anything. just your face. it was still a nice view."

her comment caught you off guard, widening your eyes and leaving your mouth slightly agape.

"a nice view?" you repeated, more as a question, deciding to switch the topic. "you're not even the superhero of this earth, but yeah, i'm totally your damsel in distress. definitely not like i have powers of my own or anything," you replied sarcastically.

gwen's mischievous expression persisted as she focused her gaze on you, her eyes trailing over your body.

"yeah, well, i'm always spider-woman, fulfilling my duties as a superhero, which includes making sure to keep everyone safe, including a really pretty damsel like yourself," gwen responded with a playful tone.

you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks at her compliment, quickly turning away to hide your reaction. "so, gonna get ready now or what?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

gwen raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion in her expression. "ready for... what?" she asked.

"you literally don't remember us saying we were gonna go bowling?" you replied, slightly exasperated.

"what are you talking about? and doesn't that place open at 6?" gwen questioned, feeling she had missed a chapter on what was going on.

"gwen, it's 6:15," you informed her, hoping it would jog her memory.

her eyes widened in realization, and she quickly sprang into action, putting on her shoes and searching for her jacket.

"shit, shit, shit. i made plans with miles, i'm gonna be late. he's probably mad right now that i haven't shown up yet!" gwen spoke frantically, her mind racing and forgetting about your prior arrangement.

you furrowed your brow in annoyance and a tinge of anger. "gwen, what do you mean you made plans with miles when you said we'd do something today?" you blurted out, feeling a sense of disappointment.

gwen looked at you with a blank expression, scratching her head as she tried to recall what you were talking about. suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise as she realized her mistake.

"bowling? oh god, i completely forgot," gwen exclaimed, still searching for her jacket and watch. "my time management is so bad."

you crossed your arms as you felt your lips pout, feeling a mix of frustration and hurt. "gwen, you always do this. you cancel plans on me, and we don't even hang out anymore besides when you're using my bed to sleep. it's always miles this and miles that. it's getting tiring," you expressed with a bitter tone.

gwen's expression shifted to one of hurt, and she fell silent for a moment, taking in your words.

"hey, i'm sorry... i know it might seem like i don't care when i cancel on you, but that's not true," she said, her voice softening. "i just get caught up in all my superhero stuff... miles and i are really close, you know? like a team."

"yeah, a team," you repeated, pressing your tongue against your cheek as you handed gwen her jacket. "then don't keep him waiting because of me," you said, walking towards the bedroom door.

"hey, hey, hey, take a chill pill," gwen retorted, her voice reflecting her own irritation. "i didn't cancel our plans on purpose. yes, it's true that i do spend more time with miles than you. but he's the reason why i'm able to be the hero that i am today! you should be grateful for that."

gwen turned around, facing you directly, her expression firm and strict. "and by the way, you're the one who always volunteers to let me stay at your place. don't act like a victim now."

you looked at her, a mix of shock and anger coursing through you. "gwen, i am not the one," you declared, pointing a finger up at her. "so trust me when i say you don't want to start with me."

gwen's anger flared, but she made an effort to regain her composure, even though it was clear she was on the verge of losing it.

"hey, don't point your finger at me like that!" she snapped back.

you could see how agitated she is. her lips were slightly curled and her chin jutted out as she narrowed her eyes.

"really? is this how this conversation is going to go?" gwen asked in a hushed tone, her expression shifting to a more saddened one. "you know what? fine. i'll go."

"yeah, i think you should," you agreed, watching her dial the numbers 1610 to miles' dimension.

gwen looked at you as if she wanted to argue further but realized it wasn't worth it. she swiftly opened the portal, ready to leave.

she gave you a sharp nod. "okay then, if that's how you want it," gwen stated, keeping her tone as neutral as possible, although it was evident you had affected her.

after a few seconds of tense silence, she stepped through the portal, disappearing from the room. maybe spending some time in a different dimension with miles would help clear her mind.

hours had passed since your fight with gwen, and the tension still lingered in the air. restlessness had settled deep within you, making it impossible to find solace in sleep. as the late hour ticked away, hunger gnawed at your stomach, prompting you to abandon the confines of your covers. retrieving your phone to check the time, you couldn't help but be shocked by the display.

"ay, is it really only 12?" you asked yourself, shocked as it felt like you have been losing the wrestling match of sleep for hours.

making your way to the kitchen, you sought refuge in the act of preparing a mug brownie, a familiar and comforting midnight snack. the process was quick, taking only a couple of minutes and requiring simple ingredients like brown sugar and the usual components of a microwaveable treat.

a sigh escaped your lips as you reached for the brown sugar from the cabinet, your mind drifting into introspection. the summer had been a tumultuous mix of highs and lows, with moments where tears seemed to dominate your days. juggling the responsibilities of the spider society and your personal commitments has left little time for the company of friends, leaving you longing for more meaningful connections. and when you did manage to spend time with friends, it often revolved around the spider society, missions, and the likes of hobie, margo, and gwen.

"gwen," you murmured aloud, her name rolling off your tongue as thoughts of her flooded your mind.

she had an undeniable hold on you, like a game of cat and mouse that seemed to stretch throughout the entire summer. she consumed your time, yet offered so little in return. it felt as if she knew you better than anyone, even yourself, effortlessly providing comfort and care. however, those moments of intimacy were fleeting, slipping through your fingers before you could fully grasp them.

the idyllic picture of the perfect summer played out in your mind—a montage of beach days, rooftop nights, and the presence of everyone you longed to be with. while you did experience some of those moments, basking in the warmth of the sun with friends, engaging in sleepovers filled with hobie's terrifying tales borrowed from reddit, and swinging across rooftops while gazing at the stars, something essential felt missing. and even now, that void remains unfilled.

that something is gwen, you now realize.

despite her being so close, she always seemed just out of reach. whether it was strolling along the shoreline with miles at the beach, sharing secretive giggles under the covers while the rest of the group debated movie choices during sleepovers, or simply being in the same space, gwen was always by miles' side.

you had tried to stand by her, to be there for her and enjoy her presence, but it seemed as though you could never make it stick.

the sudden eruption of vibrant colors and a jarring electric sound snapped you out of your reverie. your heart skipped a beat as you recognized it for what it was—a portal. and you knew exactly who had just arrived.

preparing yourself mentally, you squeezed your eyes shut, stirring the mixture with a spoon before hastily popping it into the microwave.

when gwen appeared in the kitchen, she looked a bit tired and drained, even though a little excitement was still radiating from her body. she had her hands in her pockets as she walked into the kitchen, her usual confident and cheeky attitude nowhere to be seen. gwen was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect. as soon as her eyes caught a glimpse of you, she froze in her tracks, her eyes getting wide as they darted all over you, looking for any sign that you were mad at her. it took a while for her to summon the courage to break the silence.

"i um- i'm sorry," gwen finally began, her voice soft, her gaze lowered. even in the dim light, you could discern the sincerity in her eyes. "what i said earlier and how i treated you… i shouldn't have."

rather than responding verbally, you nodded, acknowledging her apology while allowing a moment of silence to pass. the sound of her footsteps growing louder indicated her gradual approach.

"what are you doing up so late?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. "it's almost midnight. shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

a sigh escaped your lips, her presence a stark reminder of the reason behind your sleeplessness.

"couldn't sleep, so i'm having a snack," you replied in a monotone voice.

gwen tilted her head to the side. "okay, i'ii take that at face value for now," she replied, a small smirk appearing on her face before quickly fading as she walked closer to you.

after a long pause, she finally spoke up. "look. i know that we had a bit of an argument earlier," she stated, voice barley above a whisper. "i just want you to know that i didn't mean anything i said,'' gwen added.

"didn't mean it, or didn't mean to say it?" you questioned, finally turning around to face her directly, allowing her to see your expression instead of just your back.

"both," gwen muttered, feeling like she was digging herself a deeper hole with each word.

you remained silent, giving her the space to continue.

"look, i'm sorry, okay?" she implored, raising her eyebrows. her tone sounded desperate, as if she was really hoping that you would just forgive her. but she knew that you weren't the type to just forget what had happened.

"but i... i'm still your friend. whether you like it or not," she added with a faint chuckle.

arching an eyebrow at her hesitant delivery, you maintained your silence, allowing her to take the lead in the conversation.

"it's not like i was on a date with him or anything like that. i just forgot about our plans. i didn't mean to prioritize him over you. it's just- i owe him a lot. he's special to me, you know," gwen explained, her voice tinged with a touch of regret as you turned away again, biting your lip.

jealousy churned within you as her words filled the air, the mention of miles leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. it felt as though your heart twisted with each passing moment.

"i'm really, really sorry. i promise it won't happen again, okay?" gwen pleaded, her voice dripping with sincerity, even as you maintained your facade of indifference.

"i know how you see miles, you don't have to explain your feelings to me. even if it was a date, why would i care? hope you two had fun," you assured her, disregarding her promise not to bail on you again.

gwen looked genuinely upset when you turned your back to her and shrugged her words away. she didn't want you to feel like you'd been put on the shelf in favor of miles.

"i had fun, yeah," she eventually replied, not sure if you were genuinely interested in hearing about her time with miles.

gwen really did want to make up with you, but to her, it seemed like you were still angry.

you emitted a small hum in response, and the microwave dinged, indicating that the mug brownie was ready.

she took another step closer and placed her hands on your shoulders, trying to catch your attention. her expression was filled with concern.

"hey, is something wrong?" gwen asked you, her eyebrows moving up together to form a small frown.

for at least a few minutes, there was no sound; the only thing breaking the silence was the occasional gust of wind coming from the open window and the sound of you opening the utensil draw for a spoon and eating away at your dessert.

“nothing, i feel fine,” you replied dryly.

the silence and your straight face didn't exactly give gwen anything to work with. it was obvious that something was wrong, but you refused to admit it. you were a very stubborn person, after all.

"you're so full of crap, you know that, right?" gwen replied, turning you around so that you had to look at her.

she wasn't mad at you. well, she certainly was a couple of hours ago, but right at this moment, she was mostly worried about you. you seemed so distant, almost as if you wanted her to leave.

she tightened her grip on your shoulders, not trying to hurt you, but to make it clear that she meant what she was saying. even though your face remained expressionless, gwen could read you like a book. she didn't let go of your shoulders and just kept looking at you, the concern on her face growing.

you gasped, taken aback by how she turned you around

"gwen, literally what do you want me to say to you?" you asked, annoyance seeping into your voice.

"you can say the truth, for starters," she stated.

"well to start, for you to say i'm the one full of crap is hilarious. i said i feel fine, now let go of me," you added, attempting but failing to escape her firm grasp.

gwen felt her expression changing as she heard your words, the look of worry slowly turning into one of annoyance. a part of her wanted to snap back at you, but she remained silent once again.

"no," gwen replied, "no, you're not fine, and you know it."

she took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes, trying to make you listen to her.

"miles means a lot to me— i'd even say he's one of the most important people in my life. but that doesn't mean that he comes before my other friends, and you're definitely one of my friends. i shouldn't have canceled our plans, but..."

gwen looked at you to study your face for any signs that you were hearing her out, but all she was left with was this grim and dark look in your eye as your lips faintly quivered.

she shook her head. "you know what? just forget it. i don't want to keep talking about it. i'ii leave you alone now."

"gwen, i'm not doing this with you right now. goodnight," you declared, placing the cup aside and attempting to walk past her.

gwen was stunned for a few moments as she looked at you, visibly disappointed. for a moment, she was about to protest, but then changed her mind.

she wanted to say something, but she realized that you didn't want to hear it anyway. her grip slowly tightened as her eyes narrowed, but then a deep breath escaped her and she let go.

gwen watched as you left the room, her face filled with confusion and slight frustration. but after everything that had happened tonight, she decided that it was best to leave you alone instead of forcing a conversation you clearly didn't want to have right now.

you woke up feeling a bit hazy after the events of the previous night. as the sun peeked through your curtains, momentarily blinding you, you blinked your eyes a few times to adjust. the silence in the house felt unsettling as you sat up, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

making your way through the hallway, you treaded lightly, not wanting to disturb anyone in the house. you headed towards the guest bedroom, hoping to find gwen there. opening the door, you called out her name, but the room was empty. not only was she not in bed, but her belongings were also gone.

a sense of disappointment washed over you as you closed the door, realizing that gwen had left. uncertain of the reason behind her sudden departure, you let out a deep breath and decided to focus on your responsibilities as a hero. it was time to suit up and check on the city before heading to headquarters for the day.

that's exactly what you did. you patrolled the streets of new york, swinging through the familiar cityscape, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble. along the way, you checked in with miguel to see if he needed any assistance. however, he seemed preoccupied with his own tasks, so you respectfully left him to his work.

feeling the need for some solitude, you made your way to the top of the spider society structure—a tall, unique building that provided a secluded spot away from prying eyes. as you stood at the pinnacle, overlooking the sprawling city, a sense of calm washed over you. the blue skies and gentle breeze offered a momentary respite from the chaos of your thoughts.

using your web-slingers, you effortlessly stuck to the side of the building, skillfully weaving a silk hammock for yourself. nestling into the cozy cocoon, you took a deep breath, savoring the natural scents that filled the air. the peacefulness of the moment enveloped you as you gazed at the breathtaking landscape before you, allowing yourself to unwind and find solace in the stillness.

“(y/n), yer out here?” you heard a voice call out for you.

you let out an audible groan. of course, hobie of all people would come looking for you.

“imma take that as a yes,” he yelled out, swinging down and landing on the hammock next to me with ease.

"oh, hey hobie, what's good?" you asked him, your voice weak and strained from everything going on.

there was so much on your mind it made your brain feel like mush and you didn't know what to do. you just wanted to bury myself in your bed back home and rot away until the day reset. but you knew that wasn’t the healthy thing to do.

hobie’s brow raised at your sad expression, his smirk disappearing. "i dunno if anything is good. you don't look too hot," he commented. his voice was surprisingly calm and caring, contrasting the punk rocker persona. "are ya alright, bruv?"

you looked at him, leaning your head on your palm as you gave him a soft smile.

“it’s… really nothing,” you whispered.

it's clear you're not being entirely honest with him. in fact, you can see his eyes narrow and his forehead crease, as if he can read right through your response like a book.

“i don’t buy it,” hobie sighs as he puts his hands in his pocket and leans back to make himself comfortable. “there's nobody around us, you can talk to me."

you contemplate confiding in him, but ultimately his infectious energy wins you over.

“well, if you really care to listen. i got into a fight with gwen and when i woke up she was gone," you explained. "but now, when i check her location she's always at miles universe or her own...i think she's crashing with him now too. and that's what she used to do with me. the thing is, i don't even hate miles but just when she mentions her name i get this feeling i cabt explain,” you confess.

"oof." hobie frowns. he hates hearing that people aren't doing too great, and it seems to bother him how you don't even know how you feel.

he could do with some insight on these subjects as well. "that's rough, mate. y'do know she's not doing that to avoid ya, right?"

you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“i honestly don’t know, and i don’t even think it matters anymore,” you admitted. “but it’s like when i’m near her, i get this warm feeling? i don’t know how to describe it. we’re best friends, well, were at this point. every time i got near her tho, she made me feel all giddy and nervous. maybe i was excited to have someone like her in my life or something.”

he looks at you with a knowing look, like he seems to have the answer.

"y're in love with her? because that kinda sounds like it to me," hobie states.

he's straight forward. no sense dancing about these things type of attitude.

"what?" you yelled out of nowhere, almost choking on your own saliva. that was the last thing you expected him to say.

“hobie, you move a lil’ too fast. love is a real strong word,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands from embarrassment.

he laughs, and nudges your shoulder a bit. "i can see it on your face, (y/n). ain't got a lotta experience myself, but you're crushing on her real hard."

you hesitantly move your hands from your face and meet his gaze.

'hey, you don't gotta deny it,” he teased, enjoying how flushed your face looked. "you like her, don'tcha?"

"i do, but we haven't talked in weeks and i'm starting to think that she likes miles," you admit. "she just sees me as a best friend that helped her through a bad time. but miles and her are the same. they have a special connection, she even said so herself to me." you sigh in defeat.

hobie can tell that you're hurting, and he doesn't want to see you so down over her. there's a moment of silence, before the guy nudges you again.

"aye, but that's all the more reason to tell her how you feel,” hobie gives his advice matter-of-factually. "tell her how you feel. if she says she likes miles, it'll be a bit awkward. but you'll be glad you got it off your chest. and if she feels the same as you, what have you got to lose?"

"okay. you're right. i don't know when tho, since we haven't talked since our fight. but if we aren't even on speaking terms… might as well say how i feel," you state, moved my his advice.

"atta girl. i believe in ya,” hobie hypes you up. "now, let's get you home cus those bags under yer eyes makin you look like a racoon. you've already had a hard week. you need a break."

you smile, about to respond until you see miles coming up from the distance as hobie gives him an inviting wave.

"hey guys! uh, miguel sent me to get you two since g- never mind actually, it’s not important. he said something about a mandatory meeting," he stated.

"mandatory? the hell's that supposed to mean?" hobie questioned, the spider-punk's tone skeptical as always.

you really wanted to go home for once and not deal with bullshit, but you might not have a choice.

“ight so i guess this is happening now,” you sulk. it isn't much of a surprise. you weren't expecting miles to be the one to walk up to you both, though, especially since miguel of all people sent him. “whatever, let’s get this over with.”

you, hobie, and miles entered the headquarters, exchanging greetings with your fellow spider people as you made your way towards the boardroom. there was a mix of anticipation and apprehension in the air as you stepped into the room, scanning the space until your gaze landed on gwen. your eyes widened involuntarily, a rush of emotions flooding over you at the sight of her. the tension between you had created a tangled web of nervousness and anxiety, leaving you unsure of how to navigate the encounter. however, before you could dwell on these feelings, miguel wasted no time and commenced the meeting, diverting your attention.

gwen, positioned in a quiet corner of the room, watched you as you entered. the moment you spotted her, she looked away, avoiding your gaze.

gwen sat across the large conference table from you. she couldn't help but notice the look on your face when you spotted her. was that relief or anxiety? sadnesses, even. perhaps it was a little bit of everything. as your eyes locked with hers, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were feeling the same as she was. she hoped she wasn't projecting her own feelings onto you, but seeing you after not talking for so long brought up some complicated emotions in her heart.

as the meeting began, her expression remained neutral, but her mind was filled with a myriad of thoughts. she was wondering what could happen after this meeting with you.

while miguel led the discussion, you tried to focus on him, but a nagging sensation tugged at the corner of your vision. your face instinctively turned towards the source, and there, you met with a familiar watercolor blue.

gwen felt a chill run down her spine as her body tensed up, realizing that you caught her staring at you. as she turned her head towards miguel, her thoughts kept wandering back to you. it was also obvious that something was bothering her, as she constantly shifted in her seat.

she was still trying to think about how to approach you after so long. the situation was incredibly awkward and tense, but all she wanted was to make things right between you both again.

however, even as her attention seemed to shift elsewhere, you couldn't resist staring back at gwen. your gaze lingered on her, studying the intricate details that made up her unique appearance—from her eyebrow piercing to her dyed pink tips and her tousled blonde hair. unafraid to acknowledge her presence, you made sure she noticed your unwavering gaze.

embarrassment flooded gwen's face as she felt your eyes locked on her from across the room. despite her attempts to steal glimpses of you, she couldn't help but feel a knot of nervousness twisting in her stomach. her cheeks flushed with warmth, and her hands anxiously fiddled with the hem of her jacket.

the magnetic pull between you both was undeniable, and gwen couldn't resist the urge to turn her head in your direction. it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her breathless. her body seemed to melt, her heart threatening to burst with the weight of emotions she struggled to comprehend. doubts crept into her mind, questioning whether her feelings were simply illusions, born out of a desperate desire for connection.

she tried to ignore you. tried to make herself remember all the negative things about you, and all the reasons why you two shouldn't be friends again, but it was so hard. she felt like she was back to square one, right at the start when you talked for the first time.

the constant glances and stares made gwen feel all kinds of things she couldn't quite describe. it felt as though you were engaged in a silent battle, yet at the same time, a bond between you through the unspoken language of your eyes.

as gwen's mouth grew dry, she experienced a sensation she hadn't felt in quite some time. it was a mix of nerves and excitement that made her feel like a typical teenager, caught up in the throes of uncertainty and anticipation.

she felt as if you were the only person in this room right now.

despite her attempts to ignore you and focus on miguel's words, gwen found it increasingly challenging to follow the meeting. and then, once again, she felt the weight of your gaze on her. turning her head, she realized that you had shifted your attention away from miguel, fully directing it towards her.

"(y/n), can you share with the others the observation you made the other day?" miguel's voice pierced through the air, jolting you back to the reality of the meeting. the sound of his words broke the spell, prompting you to refocus your attention on the task at hand.

gwen breathed a sigh of relief as miguel called for you to speak up, but she still couldn't take her eyes off you for even a second. she tried to listen to your speech, but it was pretty hard to focus on anything other than you.

she felt you turn your gaze away from her, but she couldn't stop herself from sneaking her eyes back towards you a moment later. your face looked so serious and professional, but at the same time, there was a spark in your eyes that she couldn't miss.

she watched as you addressed miguel with confidence and conviction, all the while feeling her heart beat faster and faster.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the meeting came to a close, drawing collective sighs of relief from the attendees. miguel couldn't resist making a snarky comment about the length of the meeting, eliciting a tired chuckle from the group. the weight of the intense atmosphere lifted, if only momentarily, allowing for a brief respite from the emotional tension that had filled the room.

gwen waited for everyone to leave, and then approached you as you were already halfway out of the room.

'hey," she called out to you quietly, almost as if she didn't want to disturb the silence. "can i talk to you for a sec?"

you turned back from facing hobie as he gave you a knowing look. slowly, you shifted back to gwen.

“yeah, sure,” you replied dryly.

hobie let out a deep hum. “see ya both,” he told the two of you as he dropped his shoulders and strutted away.

gwen watched as hobie walked away, waiting until he was out of sight before looking back at you, her expression serious. taking a small breath, she attempted to collect her thoughts, knowing that she had so much to say but fearing the possibility of stumbling over her words once again.

"i know we haven't talked in a while which is my fault," she began, "but i want to apologize for... well, everything."

her eyes locked with yours, searching for any sign of your reaction. but before delving further, she felt the need to make one thing abundantly clear.

"i still consider you to be one of my closest friends," she uttered softly, hoping her words would reach you.

in response, you offered gwen a comforting smile, even if it didn't entirely reflect your true emotions.

"gwen, it's alright. you've already apologized, and i don't need to hear it again," you reassured her.

her smile widened at your response, yet she couldn't help but detect a subtle nuance in your tone.

"i know you don't need to hear it again," gwen replied awkwardly, unable to fully hide the excitement that was starting to creep into her voice. "but i need to say it myself. i do care about you. a lot."

"thanks," you replied, your arms welcoming her as you opened them wide. "it's alright, okay? friends?" you asked, your aura radiating a warmth to it.

yeah, you weren't completely happy about the fight or how it seemed to have no real resolution. but seeing gwen so torn up about it made you want to just reconcile as you kept hobie’s advice echoed in the back of your head. she seemed genuine in not making the same mistakes again, so what’s the harm in second chances?

a small smile graced gwen's face as she stepped forward, her arms encircling your waist as she finally felt the embrace she had long yearned for. the sensation of your skin on her fingertips and the familiar scent that enveloped her brought a sense of comfort she had sorely missed. she buried her face in your shoulder, an electric tingle coursing through her body. for some reason, this hug was different from all the ones that she shared with you in the past. maybe it was because she was aware of how she felt right now. or maybe it was because of this overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be close to you again.

"friends," she said, nodding vigorously, "friends."

a flush of warmth spread across your face as gwen's hands made contact with you—a sensation you hadn't experienced in quite some time. slowly, you pulled back from the embrace, gazing up at her with a renewed sense of excitement.

"wanna swing around?" you suggested, eager to make up for lost time and create new memories together.

gwen's response was immediate, her enthusiasm palpable. "yes, please!" she exclaimed, her eagerness shining through. the destination didn't matter as long as it was just the two of you.

a smile never left gwen's face as she replied, "yes!" her voice exuded genuine joy. "i mean, yeah, i'd love to. it's been so long!"

caught off guard by her unabashed enthusiasm, you met her gaze with a teasing look.

"did i make my answer too obvious?" she asked, her expression tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

you couldn't help but let out a loud cackle, a sound that had been absent during your time apart. god, you had missed her.

"nah, not at all. i didn't even think you wanted to come with me," you teased, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

gwen's promises had proven to be short-lived, falling far short of expectations. as the summer neared its end and the seasons began to shift, you couldn't help but notice a change in gwen's behavior. what once were hangouts with others gradually transformed into solitary encounters, until eventually, the two of you stopped hanging out altogether, once again.

sitting atop the brooklyn bridge during lunchtime, you glanced at your watch, a gift from hobie. the vendor had generously given you a hot dog on the house, but your mind wandered, and curiosity got the better of you. you decided to check gwen's location on the watch, only to discover she was on earth 1610.

"i can't catch a break at this point," you muttered to yourself, realizing she seemed to be with mikes again.

feeling a sense of boredom, you decided to check hobie's location on the watch as well. however, your brows furrowed in confusion as you noticed he, too, was on earth 1610.

sitting up abruptly, your attention was caught off guard when you saw margo and pavitr's locations aligning with earth 1610 as well. it was an unexpected revelation. before you could process it fully, a call came in from miguel.

"(y/n), report to earth 1610. an anomaly from earth 65 has materialized," he urgently explained before abruptly hanging up, leaving no time for further explanations.

without hesitation, you dialed earth 1610 and activated the portal. as you jumped through, you were instantly transported to earth 1610, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos. your eyes widened in shock at the sight of a massive floating head terrorizing brooklyn.

swiftly swinging through the chaos, your gaze scanned the area until you spotted miles, gwen, and margo. pavitr and hobie were engaged in assisting with citizen control.

"what the hell is going on here?" you exclaimed, addressing the bewildered trio. before they could respond, the colossal floating head turned to face the three of you. a realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

"is that... is that fucking donald trump?" you blurted out, incredulous at the sight before you.

suddenly, everything fell into place. donald trump, ironically enough, appeared to be the m.o.d.o.k. variant in gwen's universe, and somehow, he had glitched into miles' reality.

"does anyone have a plan?" you urgently asked, realizing the gravity of the situation and the need for immediate action.

you were completely right: it was, indeed, donald trump. but he looked nothing like the president from your timeline. he looked... deformed.

“i think i know a way to stop him!" gwen shouted, immediately swinging over to miles.

you couldn't help but feel baffled and frustrated by gwen's apparent disregard for your presence. as she went off searching for miles, you swung after her, annoyed by her dismissive attitude.

"hey, don't you want to stick with the rest of us?" you asked, irritation lacing your words. you had lost sight of miles and margo while evading m.o.d.o.k.'s attacks, and it was crucial to regroup.

"oh, sorry!" gwen quickly replied, finally noticing that you had followed her. her focus had been solely on finding miles and stopping the giant-headed donald trump monstrosity.

after locating miles and catching his attention, gwen wasted no time in sharing her plan, hoping it would be enough to neutralize the colossal floating threat.

"we need to find the panel at the back of his armor and shut it down," she explained, her voice resolute.

you walked over to join them, your annoyance evident as you stomped over. "gwen, you can't be serious with that plan," you told her, hands on your hips. "it's way too risky, even for you. look at what's happening around here!"

gwen looked at you, defending her plan while meeting your gaze. "what else do we have?" she retorted. "the longer we take, the more damage trump might do to this universe! we have to act fast, and we can't afford to waste time searching for alternatives!"

though confusion flickered across miles' face, gwen had faith that he would support her plan.

"we have to do this," she asserted, her voice firm.

"gwen, listen. if you're feeling guilty about trump being here, now is not the time," you yelled in frustration. "i understand you want to help miles, but respectfully, this is the dumbest plan i've ever heard from you! it's close combat, which poses a significant risk. he's too massive and unpredictable. just look at the path of destruction he's leaving behind with his flailing legs. jumping on him could endanger innocent bystanders, including yourself!"

however, judging by the expression on gwen's face, it was clear she wasn't buying your reasoning.

"what do you expect us to do otherwise?” gwen snapped, her frustration now boiling over. "if we don't tackle this head-on, this donald trump will bring complete destruction to this earth! can't you see what's happening here?"

she gestured to the chaos surrounding them, emphasizing the dire situation.

"you have a better plan?" gwen challenged. "please, enlighten us! come up with something new, because time is running out."

before you could offer an alternative, gwen grabbed miles' arm and swung off with him. you let out an aggravated yell, following closely behind, but by the time you caught up with them, they had already set their plan in motion.

gwen quickly assessed her surroundings, searching for anything that could aid them in the battle against m.o.d.a.a.k. her gaze landed on a nearby construction crane, and she swung next to it, her mind working swiftly.

turning to miles, she spoke calmly, "can you throw me up as high as possible? with enough speed, i might be able to knock him off balance."

the sight was disheartening. miles and gwen struggled in their attempts to combat the floating head, who grew more frustrated by their relentless presence. suddenly, he started spinning frantically after miles accidentally touched a component apart from his tech suit. it sparked an idea in your mind on how to neutralize him.

however, your attention shifted as you noticed pavitr in harm's way, with the airborne m.o.d.a.a.k. hurtling towards him.

gwen swiftly recognized the imminent danger and reacted in a split second. she shot a web at m.o.d.a.a.k., specifically targeting an area of his body that wasn't shielded by his armor. the web hit its mark, sending him flying backward, crashing into a nearby building.

the building happened to be under construction, which meant there were no people inside, providing a sense of relief. yet, your eyes widened as you realized the structure couldn't withstand the weight of the massive m.o.d.a.a.k. the building crumbled and collapsed into the water.

everyone swung over to the site, landing on the debris of the fallen building.

"pavitr, you alright?" you asked, giving him a friendly shoulder nudge.

"you know it," he replied with his usual cheery demeanor.

suddenly, all eyes turned to the water as it began bubbling before abruptly stopping.

"electronics don't do too well in water, so... we should be good, right?" miles nervously asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. you turned your head to face him, giving him a blank look. "yeah, i didn't think so either," he admitted weakly.

bravely, you approached the edge where the water met the debris, peering down cautiously.

"be careful!" margo called out from behind you.

you gazed into the seemingly empty depths.

"soooo, is the big guy down or what?" hobie asked, breaking the silence as you remained silent, observing the sea.

before you could respond, an enraged m.o.d.a.a.k. emerged from the water, more aggressive and determined than ever. the battle was far from over.

"ummm... guys?" she asked, turning back to look at you, miles, hobie, margo, and pavitr. "i think we might have a problem..."

suddenly, the m.o.d.a.a.k. unleashed a violent wave of water towards the group, knocking them all down. gwen felt herself being pulled away by the force of the water, but managed to reach for one of her spider-webs and quickly shoot it towards the trump variant.

you swiftly shot out a web and grabbed onto a rusted pole nearby, pulling yourself up to a vantage point where you could assess the area.

"i've had enough of this," you muttered to yourself as you dialed margo's number on your watch.

"margo, are you hurt?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.

she chuckled dryly in response. "you think i'm gonna be taken down by an orange big baby bigot? you've got another thing coming."

you laughed, appreciating margo's indomitable spirit. "listen, i need you to see if you can compromise his software. try to hack into it and disrupt his flight control," you instructed.

"you got it," margo replied sharply, her determination palpable. you ended the call and proceeded to contact the rest of the team.

"listen up, new plan," you announced, ensuring everyone was on the line. "margo is going to hack into the software m.o.d.a. a. k. is using to control his flight. meanwhile, the rest of us will lead him to a more remote area, away from the general public. once margo can disable his flight, we'll surround him and weave a web cocoon to immobilize him. understood?"

you received agreements from everyone except gwen, who seemed lost in her thoughts. miles tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"gwen, you good?" he asked, concern in his voice. "you haven't said anything this whole time."

"oh, right!" gwen replied, sounding distracted. "yeah, i'm in."

with the plan set, everyone sprang into action.

margo skillfully hacked into his software without detection. "get ready," she warned, as she began manipulating his flight controls.

m.o.d.a. a.k. started moving erratically, flying upward, downward, and in multiple directions, resembling a sickening spectacle. then suddenly, he went limp and began descending toward the ground.

"now!" you yelled, signaling the team to surround him. together, you spun thick webs that enveloped his body, forming a sturdy silk cocoon.

after securing m.o.d.a. a. k. in place, you all worked together to create a stable landing spot made entirely of spider-webs, ensuring the safety of both m.o.d.a.k. and the surrounding area.

as citizens gathered around, witnessing the strange sight, they began applauding. you and your team exchanged small waves, acknowledging their appreciation.

"thank god..." miles exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "nice job, everyone."

you all let out tired huffs and puffs, drained from the rush of adrenaline and the physical exertion. however, the relief of the battle's conclusion was short-lived as miguel arrived in an aircraft from headquarters, seemingly to transport m.o.d.a. a. k. away. lab personnel from the spider society surrounded the scene, evacuating nearby civilians from the cocooned monstrosity in the middle of the street.

as everyone else dispersed, miles made his way to the chief of police to provide an explanation of what had transpired. meanwhile, you found yourself engaged in a conversation with miguel, providing him with a detailed report of the events. from a distance, you spotted gwen standing alone in front of the m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon, piquing your curiosity.

after concluding your conversation with miguel, you approached gwen, calling out to get her attention. however, she didn't respond, deep in her own thoughts.

frustration welled up within you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer. "gwen, what the hell is your problem with me?" you pressed, your voice rising.

gwen was startled by your sudden outburst, turning to face you with a confused expression. "hm? what are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she tried to comprehend your question. "why would i have a problem with you?"

just as the argument between you and gwen began to escalate, miles returned after speaking with the chief of police, sensing the tension in the air. he decided to intervene and find out what was happening.

"what's going on?" miles asked, his voice tinged with concern.

annoyance etched across your face, you directed your frustration towards miles. "nothing's wrong, except for the fact that you and gwen were acting like damn idiots out there!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "do you realize how many people could've gotten hurt? do you understand the damage you caused, the buildings that were destroyed?"

your anger was evident, fueled by gwen's apparent neglect of your friendship and her persistent focus on miles. it seemed they always wanted to take matters into their own hands, disregarding any collaborative efforts. their plan had been flawed.

miles took a step back, his expression a mix of surprise and defensiveness. "look, i understand that you're mad. but we had to do whatever we could to stop that freak," he replied calmly, trying to maintain composure. "we had to act quickly, you know that. and you can call me an idiot all you want, but in the end, didn't we succeed?"

"we? we didn't do much, you know," you mocked, pointing a finger towards the trapped m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon and then back to your face. "modak is trapped because of me! while you two were off doing whatever the hell you pleased, i came up with the plan to capture him. you needed to listen to me, but no! you two lovebirds were lost in your own world," you spat out, frustration evident in your words.

gwen felt her heart sink as your anger turned towards her, accompanied by an intense glare. you accused miles and her of being irresponsible during the battle, highlighting the near catastrophe caused by miles' actions.

"hey, wait a minute," gwen replied, her irritation growing as you hurled insults at her and miles. "miles and i did our best, okay? we helped stop that m.o.d.a.a.k., remember?" she looked you in the eye, defending both herself and miles. "why can't you ever acknowledge our efforts?"

you scoffed at gwen's comment, unable to fathom her perspective. "have you ever thought of doing stand-up comedy, gwen? because you're a literal joke if you think you helped. does provoking him to the point where he nearly caused a mini tsunami in brooklyn not ring a bell? because that shit just happened! and how the hell do you expect me to acknowledge your efforts when you don't even acknowledge me?" you shouted, your frustration boiling over.

the argument had clearly escalated from a disagreement about the mission to a more personal confrontation. miles, feeling the tension, awkwardly decided to retreat from the conversation. "um... you two... i should... i'll just... go," he mumbled, attempting to diffuse the situation and give both of you some space.

you two turned your gaze back to each other, the weight of the argument hanging heavily in the air. the tension between you was palpable as you stood there, hurt and frustrated.

"okay, fine, maybe i don't acknowledge you enough," gwen replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of defensiveness and honesty. "but that doesn't change the fact that we're friends. we're on a team, dammit. i thought that we trusted each other."

you crossed your arms, your frustration still evident. "gwen, how can i trust you when you can't even follow through on simple promises?"

gwen looked at you, her brows furrowing in confusion as she crossed her arms in return. "what promises?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

you let out a sigh, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "this whole summer, you've barely spent any time with me. and after our fight, you said you wouldn't bail on plans anymore, but you just did it again. it feels like you don't care to make an effort or you simply don't want to see me. do you even realize how much it hurts? all i've wanted is to be around you, but every time we do, it feels like you're running away, like you're scared. i just wanted to hold your hand, to feel close to you. but instead, i feel like i've been chasing after you tryna cling to you like a fucking leech, and it's exhausting. it makes me question if it was all a waste of time. so tell me, am i a waste of time to you?" you confessed, your voice filled with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

gwen's initial defensive stance softened as your words sank in. deep down, she was scared of commitment, afraid of the responsibilities and stress that come with close relationships. but now she realized the impact her actions were having on you.

a flicker of regret crossed gwen's face as she realized the pain she had caused. "yes, you are a waste of time," she had blurted out, but the moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

shock and hurt washed over you, your voice trembling as you struggled to process her response. "are you for real? after everything... just like that?" tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you.

you placed a hand over your chest, feeling your heartbeat pounding like an aggressive drum. the pain of gwen's words cut deep, and you couldn't bear it any longer. "you know what, gwen? fuck you," you said, the words laced with pain and anger, as tears streamed down your face.

gwen's stomach twisted with remorse, realizing the weight of her thoughtless words. she desperately wanted to take them back, to make things right, but she could see that you were too hurt to listen or care.

turning away, you withdrew from gwen's reach, not wanting to face her in that moment. overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, you massaged your temples, trying to calm the storm brewing inside you.

gwen understood that you needed space, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving things unresolved. she had to fix this. "i'm so, so sorry! i didn't mean what i said, i really didn't," she pleaded, her voice frantic. "i was just mad, okay? i didn't think before i spoke. please, give me a chance to explain."

as gwen spoke, her voice started fading away, and you felt a tingling sensation intensify in your head. suddenly, you realized what it was—it was your spider sense.

turning towards the m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon, time seemed to slow down as you saw him slice a slit in the silk, preparing to launch an attack. without hesitation, you pushed gwen to the floor, your instincts taking over to protect her.

chaos ensued as other spider people rushed to contain the situation. in the midst of the commotion, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain in your side. instinctively, you reached down to grip the source of the pain, only to have your hand come away wet with blood. you had taken the blow intended for gwen.

m.o.d.a.a.k. had shot you.

your vision grew hazy as the pain intensified, and you realized the gravity of the situation. in that moment, all the hurt and anger faded away, replaced by a deep concern for your own well-being. as everything faded to darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if gwen would realize the depth of her feelings before it was too late.

"(y/n), are you okay?" gwen yelled out, her instincts kicking in as she rushed to your side, her voice filled with urgency.

her eyes widened as she took in the sight of you, blood pouring from your wounds. a wave of worry washed over her, and her stomach twisted with fear. "hey, stay with me," she pleaded.

weakly, you managed to ask, "gwen, are you okay?"

her heart ached at the sound of your weakened voice. "stay with me, please," she repeated, her tone softer this time, her own fear causing her mouth to go dry.

desperately, gwen reached out to you, her hand trembling as she brushed against your arm, wanting to offer some form of comfort. but in the face of such a dire situation, she felt utterly helpless. the pool of blood around you was expanding rapidly, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her. doubts and fears raced through her mind, fearing that she might lose you.

"shhh, just relax. breathe," you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of pain and reassurance. gwen listened attentively, doing as you instructed, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

as you felt her tension ease, a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. despite your own condition, you wanted to provide her with some comfort.

gwen felt a glimmer of relief as she saw you momentarily relax. your bloody hand rested on her chest, seeking solace in her touch as she held you tightly in her arms.

but as time passed, your eyelids grew heavier, and your consciousness slipped in and out. the world around you faded into darkness as you succumbed to the overwhelming blood loss, and you passed out.

"no, no, no..." gwen whispered to herself, her voice filled with a mix of anguish and determination.

with tears welling up in her eyes, gwen carefully lifted your limp body, cradling you in her arms. she refused to let despair consume her. with every ounce of strength she could summon, she reassured you, whispering that everything would be alright.

in a display of unwavering resolve, gwen carried you, her steps steady but her heart heavy, as she made her way towards help. the weight of her emotions—fear, worry, concern, anxiety, and regret—pressed upon her, but she took a deep breath, determined to stay strong for your sake.

as she gently placed you onto a gurney, the tension in her body was evident.

a day had passed since the incident, and you had undergone surgery. surprisingly, you fared better than expected, and as you sat up, you realized you were in the emergency care department of the headquarters. clad in a hospital gown, you slowly lifted it, revealing the bandages wrapped around your wounds.

confusion clouded your mind until you noticed gwen entering the room, dressed in her normal attire. her eyes widened upon seeing you awake, a mix of relief and worry evident on her face.

"you're awake!" she exclaimed, a big smile forming on her face.

gwen approached you cautiously, her gaze fixed on the bandages and hospital gown that concealed your injuries.

"how do you feel?" she asked.

she stepped closer before taking a seat on your bedside, unable to contain her emotions, and quickly wrapped her arms around you in a strong embrace. your body tensed in pain from your abdomen as you let out a small gasp, but her presence provided a sense of comfort.

"what the hell happened?" you asked, sitting up, your bewilderment evident.

as you posed the question, gwen's face turned nervous, her voice slightly trembling. "that m.o.d.a.a.k. shot you," she replied, the words catching in her throat. "you took the bullet for me."

her gratitude spilled forth as her eyes studied your form. "thank you," she added, her voice filled with a mix of appreciation and remorse.

taken aback by her words, you felt a flood of memories rush back, the events of the fight and her hurtful remark resurfacing in your mind like a turbulent wave.

"yeah, i remember," you recalled, rubbing your head as a headache set in. "that happened after..."

the words caught in your throat as you couldn't bring yourself to say it, the memory of gwen calling you a waste of time after you had confessed your feelings still fresh in your mind.

sensing the tension in the air, gwen acknowledged the weight of the past events. "yeah... that fight," she replied softly, her voice tinged with regret.

the realization that you were now in a better state and on the path to recovery prompted gwen to address the lingering issue. determination flickered in her eyes as she mustered the courage to explain herself.

"yeah, um, i wanted to talk about that," gwen began. "what i said... i didn't mean any of it, okay? i was just angry."

as gwen placed her hands on your arm to stop you from rubbing your head, you pulled your arm away, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "you keep saying that, gwen," you commented. "really, don't force yourself to be around me. especially if you don't feel the way i do. just because i took a hit for you doesn't mean you owe me this," you explained, your words laced with a mix of resignation and self-preservation.

gwen frowned and looked away, a mixture of hurt and determination flickering in her eyes. "it's not about you taking a bullet for me," she replied, her voice soft but earnest. "it's about me hurting you with those comments i made. i didn't mean a single word of what i said. and i'm not forcing myself to do anything... i love being around you, (y/n)."

she spoke with sincerity, her words carrying the weight of remorse. "i said those things because i was an idiot, not because i think you're a waste of time. because you aren't."

you couldn't help but feel a surge of confusion as you searched her eyes for answers. "if it's not that, then what's your problem?" you asked, your tone a mix of frustration and curiosity.

gwen fell silent for a few moments, her gaze fixed on the floor as she grappled with her emotions. "fear," she finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

her confession hung in the air, and she continued, her voice gaining strength. "fear of getting too attached, fear of hurting you by accident, fear of falling in love..." her vulnerability was clear as she admitted her feelings openly. "i just don't want to mess things up, okay? it's been a struggle for me to feel comfortable with... commitment. it's complicated."

moved by her honesty, you reached out and gently took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "gwen, you can talk to me," you assured, your voice filled with empathy.

taking a deep breath, gwen met your gaze directly, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and nervousness. "you're right," she replied, her voice steadier now. "i've been avoiding you because i was scared. scared that..."

she paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "i have always liked you more than a friend," she stated, her words blunt and honest. "but i was worried that i might ruin our friendship if i admitted it to you. so i ended up pushing you away. i'm sorry."

the shock was evident on your face as you processed her words. "you like me back?" you asked, your voice filled with surprise. "so the whole time you were avoiding me... you were scared?"

gwen nodded quietly, a tinge of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "i- yeah," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "but i was nervous to spend time with just the two of us. it felt like something changed between us. and i guess i didn’t want my feelings to be confirmed, even tho being away from you did the exact opposite.”

she looked down, feeling a mix of nervousness and shame. "i can't believe i was acting like this toward someone i like. how stupid am i?" her voice trailed off, her self-criticism evident.

placing a hand on her cheek, you gently turned her face to meet your gaze. "hey, hey," you spoke softly, your thumb stroking her cheek. "that's all in the past now. i know it's hard to be vulnerable, but you can do it."

gwen's heart fluttered at your touch, a warmth filling her. your words resonated deeply within her, and she felt a newfound determination take hold. "you're right," she replied, her voice more confident. "i can do it. and that's what i want to do—to be vulnerable with you."

you grinned at her as the gentle touch of your thumb on her cheek stirred something within her. with a surge of courage, gwen leaned in, meeting your lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

gwen's lips met yours in a tender, passionate kiss, her weight pressing against you slightly as you instinctively put both hands up to cup her cheek. closing your eyes, you surrendered to the moment, savoring the feeling of her lips against yours.

the sensation of gwen's kiss was like a dream come true, an intoxicating blend of passion and love that left you breathless. she continued to kiss you, her lips moving with a fervent energy that sent tingles of excitement throughout your entire body. in that moment, all worries and nerves faded away, replaced by the sheer intensity of the connection between you.

as you pulled back slightly, your eyes locked with gwen's, a joyful giggle escaping your lips. a broad smile spread across your face, reflecting the happiness that filled your heart.

gwen's heart raced, her stomach aflutter as she met your gaze. it was a sensation she had never experienced before, but one she embraced fully. "you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," she confessed, her voice slightly breathless. "thank you for being so understanding," she added, her smile radiant.

taking a moment to readjust herself, gwen mirrored your earlier gesture, placing her hand gently on your cheek. the weight of her touch felt light, yet it conveyed a profound sense of happiness and contentment.

"of course, i'll always understand you," you reassured her, your voice filled with sincerity. you chuckled at her remark. "well, we don't have to wait around anymore, do we?" you playfully remarked, leaning in for another kiss. in that moment, it felt like everything was falling into place.

gwen wrapped her arms around your neck, drawing herself even closer to you, her body moving in sync with yours. the taste of your mouth was both sweet and comforting, fueling a strength within her.

she wished this moment could last forever, but she knew that reality would eventually intrude, bringing an end to this blissful interlude.

so, gwen allowed herself to fully immerse in the joy of the present, cherishing every second of this special kiss, knowing deep down that it would become one of the most cherished memories of this unforgettable summer.

© 2023 primaviva — likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated!

[microtyalm13]

How would your ocs react to a partner whos very vocal and loud in bed, like every moment they can't go without spouting some type of praise. . . ask, totally not based on a chat im having - 🐠🎩

mmmhehehhe... < З I LIKE THIS QUESTION DEAR FISH ANON. okaaaayyy lessgooo.... also feel free to send me more questions like this one, it was fun to write for everyone <3 deity, naga, monster under the bed, kikimora, fallen god, mothman x reader. derzena x fem!reader, the rest is gender-neutral. there could be mistakes and im npt s orrty

gavriil. — the louder you are the better, honestly. gavriil here is a provider, he cares about your pleasure more than his own, so there's nothing more rewarding than to hear your voice break so deliciously. sex with him is a praising galore... loves receiving it too! he's very talkative and mostly breathes heavily or hums in amusement/delight. if you don't want to make noise on principle, that's a whole different story. will take it as a challenge. will fuck the noises out of you. breaking your indifferent facade until you're nothing but a drooling, whining mess always makes him so smug and proud.

xiaolong. — prefers it if you're at least somewhat vocal because he want to hear how good he makes you feel, so you being so unashamed is perfect for him. loves cutting off your never-ending stream of sweet words and whimpers by kissing you. will remind you to keep it down sometimes though, because "you don't want the whole inn to hear your pretty moans now, do you? they're reserved for my ears only, isn't that right, dear? mmhm, that's it". can't get enough of how lovely your voice sounds when you call out his name. will probably tease you about that later...

taisya\tasechka. — when he's balls deep inside of you, he would absolutely not care. he won't even hear you probably, driven blindly by his instincts and desires. that's why when you want him to stop or give you a second for whatever reason, you need to show it with your body language. give him a pat, a punch (he won't mind), a squeeze. he pays much more attention to how your body moves and shudders underneath him, how your breathing patterns change. values your physical participation more than anything else. this guy is also pretty loud himself, though his noises are not very... pleasant on the ears and sometimes his voice morphs in funny ways, giving that uncanny edge to his low whines and growls.

derzena. — she will be... a bit surprised. she didn't have many lovers, and most of them were pretty quiet and/or shy in her presence (no wonder, bc she has a very... intimidating stare). at first she will think she did something wrong, or, heavens forbid, hurt you. derzena is a very careful woman, mainly because she's very aware of her sizes and strength. but once you reassure her and tell her that you're just very vocal in bed, she'll except it and will move on. she'll learn to love it very quickly, silently relishing in your gasps and loud pleas. she might lose herself for a good while between your legs, eating you out for hours and pushing her thick, smooth tongue deeper into your pussy to see if she can make you even louder.

veniamin. — oh he is so mean. likes it when you're loud just because he gets to shut you up. a hand clasped tightly over your mouth or pushing your face into the pillow, he doesn't care as long as you're keeping up the volume and writhing under him. when he's feeling gracious enough he'll let you ride him and babble all you want. until then, he'll keep calling you a desperate little thing, mocking the noises you make <З despite that, he also loves it when you talk back or insult him in return. it's the "missionary, so we can keep arguing" for him. smug fucker wants nothing more than to rile you up and then make you whine in disappointment by ruining your orgasm... for the fourth time in a row.

livy. — he hasn't had much experience with humans before, so he thinks it's perfectly normal for you to express yourself the way that you do. livy thinks it's very pretty actually, and won't stop you, because no one will hear you in the middle of the forest, where his cave resides. except for him, of course <з lets out happy chirps and clicks in return, or hisses sweetly when your little hole squeezes him so tightly. will ask how you feel very frequently, seeking your approval. might get too excited and get a bit rough, fucking you into the ground, trying to stuff you full of his cock despite you being so much smaller in comparison to him.

[luffyrose]

Oh Brother....s?

I had the most brilliant mini-idea while raging at video games because my parents suck at em. Anyway, there's really no correlation there, but the idea!

So we all know the whole "Danny is related to (Batkid) and he was give away because blah blah" or "he died and blah blah". We know those, and we love them, but what if, hear me out, Danny is related to MULTIPLE of them.

Danny is the child of Willis and Talia.

Now he was definitely not planned or anything, it just happened during a random mission and Talia couldn't bother to deal with it much. She decided that if the child lived she'd give it to Willis, a sort of test. It's not like she needed the baby, Damian had been born a little while before. Talia is one of those mothers who doesn't LOOK pregnant even when she's about to have the baby so basically, Danny does end up being born but is a really sickly kid, like REAL sick.

Of course, she really couldn't care less about the kid so baby Danny was given to Willis, who just gave Danny to Jason and Catherine. He's like 8 or so, so he isn't Robin yet, and he is SO happy to have a little brother. Except he's terrified for Danny, whose name was originally something else with Daniel being his middle name thanks to Jason (also why he kept the name Danny and not his original first name), but he doesn't want Danny hurt. After a few years, just before he becomes Robin, he gives a barely like 4-year-old Danny to a shelter or something with a blanket and a note.

Everything goes the same with both of them from there. The reason why Jason is easier on Damian compared to the others? He kinda looks like his baby brother, not identical but like, there's a resemblance, and he kind of finds it uncanny. Reason Talia even gave the time to help Jason? Well, he's technically the older brother of her younger child, and after having Damian for a while she does feel a little bad. Even if she doesn't want to meet the kid, she figured helping his older brother was a good enough way to apologize.

Danny remembers his older brother. How he looked and his name, and how he always took care of him. It's why even when his new adoptive parents neglected both him and Jazz he doesn't think anything is wrong. Jason had raised him. Now Jazz was. It was simply normal to him. He's just got major parent issues honestly.

The only people who know about his older brother are Jazz and Tucker though. His parents never were told because they'd been too busy to learn about it. Jazz had helped him on the earlier nights when he cried for Jason. And Tucker had learned when they first became friends as kids. Even if he was close to Sam, he never mentioned Jason though, it kind of felt like something he shouldn't touch anymore. It'd been years and even if he still had that star blanket, the note he vaguely remembers with it had been taken and put with his papers...and well he didn't know where those were.

Jason had already died and come back when Danny had the accident, so neither was aware of the other still. Danny does the whole hero thing for about 3 years before everything came crashing in for whatever reason, and he has to run. With no plan, he just follows his core and ends up in Gotham but he doesn't know why. Gotham herself is THRILLED to have him back because Jason was hers and this was Jason's little brother as well as her king! So she's trying to help the disoriented and hurt boy to his brother.

Cue shenanigans and angst though and it take a good MINUTE for Danny to even meet the Bats, let alone Jason. I'm thinking everyone meets him in one way or another before Jason is getting something from the cave while they're talking about this meta kid who LOOKS kind of like Damian but not at the same time, so they need to figure out if it's a clone or what. Jason sees the picture and is frozen, not even noticing the fact that he started crying while the whole fam is freaking out.

It's Damian, who looks between Jason and the picture, that notices the subtle differences that had them thinking it was still familiar were from Jason. And dun dun dun, it's Jason's little brother. He never knew who the mother was and after someone gets him out of his like mini-panic from knowing his brother was close by, he just bolts to his bike to go find him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I actually think I may make this a one-shot series. If anyone else wants to use this idea though feel free as well! Just tag me or smth :D

I honestly do think this is gonna be another thing I write though, I kinda love this idea a lot XDD

[writing-with-sophia]

I don't know if you have ever done this type of genre before, so feel free to ignore this ask, but... Do you have any good tips or advice for writing horror stories? Like psychological and creepy stuff.

Love your blogs btw!! <3

Tips for writing horror stories

Awww, I love you guys too! Unfortunately, horror is not my strength, and I have never written a horror story before. I tried my best to write this, so if there is anything wrong, please tell me!

Tap into primal fears: Identify and explore universal fears that resonate with readers on a deep, primal level. Fear of the dark, fear of the unknown, fear of isolation, and fear of loss are all potent sources of horror.

Create suspense and tension: Build suspense by gradually escalating the stakes and creating a sense of impending doom. Use pacing, foreshadowing, and cliffhangers to keep readers engaged and on edge. You can also use short, consecutive sentences to create a sense of urgency and suspense.

Establish a chilling atmosphere: Set the tone and mood of your story through atmospheric descriptions. Utilize sensory details to immerse readers in a dark, foreboding, or eerie environment. Utilize the power of the unknown to create fear and anticipation. Sometimes what is unseen or left to the imagination can be more terrifying than explicit descriptions. Let the readers' minds fill in the gaps and create their own horrors.

Develop complex characters: Create well-rounded characters with their own fears, vulnerabilities, and flaws. Make readers care about them, and then subject them to terrifying or psychologically unsettling experiences.

Use psychological horror: Delve into the depths of the human psyche to evoke fear and unease. Explore themes such as paranoia, obsession, madness, or fractured perceptions of reality. Subtle, psychological twists can be just as impactful as overt scares.

Cultivate a sense of the uncanny: Take ordinary, everyday situations or objects and twist them into something sinister. This can create a stark contrast between the familiar and the horrifying, intensifying the impact on readers. Play with distorted reflections, doppelgangers, or seemingly ordinary objects that hold a sinister presence.

Leave room for interpretation: Allow readers to fill in the gaps and imagine the worst. Suggest horrors rather than explicitly showing them, leaving room for the reader's imagination to amplify the fear.

Build anticipation and reveal strategically: Tease and withhold information to keep readers engaged. Gradually reveal unsettling details or unveil the true nature of the horror at opportune moments for maximum impact. You can subvert their expectations and challenge their assumptions to keep them engaged and off-balance.

Explore taboo subjects: Fear can be evoked by exploring taboo or uncomfortable subjects that challenge societal norms. Use these themes tactfully and with sensitivity to create a disturbing effect.

Experiment with narrative techniques: Consider using different narrative perspectives to provide varying viewpoints and insights into the horror. First-person narratives can intensify the reader's connection with the protagonist, while third-person perspectives can offer a broader view of the unfolding terror. Use non-linear storytelling, unreliable narrators, or fragmented perspectives to create a sense of disorientation and psychological unease.

Study the genre: Read widely in the horror genre to understand different approaches and techniques. Analyze what works in other stories and adapt those techniques to your own writing style.

Edit with a critical eye: After completing your first draft, take the time to review and revise your work. Look for areas where you can heighten the horror, strengthen character development, or refine the atmosphere. Trim unnecessary details and ensure that each scene contributes to the overall sense of fear and unease.

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

[linomilkers]

Hiiiii! This is Minho/Reader/Felix Everyone is touching everyone! Hope you like it!

i.

Minho reflects on how he found these two often.

Sometimes, it feels as though they just appeared one day; Y/N and Felix both, bare faced and precious sitting on his step waiting for him to open the door. Like two oddly domesticated stray cats, they were patient and sweet, looking for food and a warm place to stay for the night. A bonded pair that couldn't be separated -- two that you would have to adopt together or it would just be cruel.

The reality of it is that Minho needed roommates and Chan told him he knew two people whose lease was almost up at their apartment. He got their information, he contacted them, they decided to meet up for coffee in a public area more for their comfort than his own (Chan not only knew them but spoke highly of them, so he felt comfortable with seeing them face to face). The only warning he was given is that these two were a pair, through-and-through, if he didn't like one of them then it wouldn't work and he would have to find two different people to split the cost of his rent. He had figured as much but the warning had made complete and total sense only when he speaks to them.

Minho wasn't going into this blindly, he did do a fair amount of stalking through their socials to see what he was getting into before he sent them the message. They were all over each other's pages, he could tell they were very close with one another and they had been for a long while. Their aesthetics were similar, what they liked correlated with what the other liked, both of them had bright smiles, and allegedly (claimed by Chan) contagious laughs. They seemed exactly like two people Chan would like and potentially two people that Minho himself might feel put off by; extroverted, loud, too forward and possibly clingy. Maybe not though - he's willing to give it a chance - to see.

He's the one with the upper-hand in this so it makes him feel more confident in introducing himself. The first thing he notices, besides that they were both in sweats and zip-up hoodies that may not have anything underneath, is that their hands were soft. Both of them must use the same scrub, he'd reasoned, because that's the only way either of them could have these baby soft hands. That's not the only thing they share either -- they have the same big eyes that follow every word his lips form to make, and the same giggle when he makes a joke, and the same twist of their head when they were curious. Honestly, it's almost uncanny; it would be enough to make him wonder had they been built in a lab to mirror each other if their personalities weren't in such stark contrast with one another.

Where Felix was more reserved, Y/N was open. She would ask questions it looked like Felix wanted to but couldn't find the wording for -- he only came to this conclusion by the way he nods eagerly when she phrases them. Almost as if she were siphoning the question right from his brain. It's really solidified when they bring out the wrong drink. While Felix was content with choking down whatever dark coffee they'd handed him, Y/N pouted her mouth and slid it from him, "You hate this," she told him, almost like she was reminding him, before excusing herself from the table and going up to the register.

In that time alone, Felix regarded him meekly, "It's one of her charms," he opened up to tell him, "If you're worried about asking for something, she'll handle it, so like -- y'know, if you're ever in an argument with the landlord, she'll go at it too. She's good at getting what she wants."

"Good to know," Minho muses, his eyes followed her, he watched closely as she interacted with the staff and strained his ears, catching words like sorry, but this isn't, and yes, with the sweet cream, thank you so much.

By the end of it, Minho had pretty much made up his mind. They were kind, they weren't too obnoxious, and he thinks he could get along with both of them well enough. All of the ground rules that he had set, they agreed to without hesitation or question (things that made him feel like an old man, like keeping the noise down after 9PM, taking turns with chores, not leaving shoes in front of the door for him to trip over and break a hip or something). He asks them when their lease ends and when they could move in, and both of them seem ecstatic, all big smiles and gleaming eyes that for sure don't make his heart race, not even a little bit.

"It was nice to meet you," Y/N grinned gently, twiddling her fingers in a wave, "Kind of wish it was mentioned that you were so cute, I would have dressed better."

"Y/N," Felix gave an exasperated sigh, swatting her shoulder, "Chan said no flirting."

"I'm not flirting! It was a compliment."

Minho's ears betray him, burning bright red as he tilted his face down, shy. Chan had given him a warning about that too, just a brief one, that being flirtatious was their default setting. He said he could handle it because honestly, that was Jisung's default setting too and he managed him just fine. But his heart thuds hard in his chest and he feels a pleasant tickle beneath his skin. He brushes it away, tells them that it was great to meet them and he'd be contacting them soon with his address so they could come see it in person before signing any contracts.

That was all a few months ago. They moved in shortly after, Chan and Minho themselves did most of the heavy lifting because Y/N and Felix were struggling with even the smaller boxes. But they moved quickly, and their first night they had most of the furniture in their room packed and their walls decorated. Felix was more minimalistic in his approach, with art pieces and wall sculptures that he strategically placed along his walls. Y/N's taste was far more eclectic and very filling -- he could tell right away that she liked to have things on her walls, plugging the empty space. He didn't know them well at this point, but he did know that their bedrooms suited them.

Before Chan left that night, he squeezed his shoulder with a big dopey grin, "Good luck with them," he patted him, "They'll probably try to sleep with you, so do with that as you will. See you later."

He leaves without a word more, and Minho is left to chew over that for the rest of the night.

And he would love to say he wasn't sure how their roommate situation had warped into what it was, but if he really looks back on it, it's clear. Chan warned him, right off the bat he told him, and Minho had brushed it off as him teasing him. The first few weeks they were getting their footing, finding their place in his home and with him. He knew he could be hard to read and typically maintained a more aloof look to him, but they seemed unperturbed by it. Either they were really good at reading people or they were just really good at reading him, and the longer they stayed the more they had him figured out. When to poke and tease him, when to leave him be, how to make him laugh, how to piss him off.

Felix made pudding for him after Minho mentioned liking it once and it left him feeling special and full. It was creamy and smooth and he is certain he ate the most of it out of the three of them. Every time he complimented the taste, Felix bristled with delight and smiled like he'd been handed a star. It was endearing -- it made his heart twitch, but, as he did with most things, Minho ignored it. He makes him a lot of things to eat, sweets mostly, and Minho swears he's getting softer around his hips because of it.

Y/N shows her care in different ways. It's almost randomized, weird things that Minho made offhanded comments about needing or wanting and a few days later it was in the apartment. She never mentioned that it was her who purchased it -- he would find a new meat tenderizer in the kitchen, ask where it came from and Felix would let him know Y/N picked one up.His laundry will be neatly folded and set on his bed if he forgets it in the dryer. When he tore a hole in the pocket of his favorite jacket, two days later it was repaired, seamlessly stitched up. The only reason he knew it was Y/N's doing was the pin cushion and threads he saw on her dresser, when he brought a package to her room for her.

They both were touchy, with each other and with him. Minho can't think of a time that they were all three watching a movie together where the two of them weren't a twist tangled limbs. Y/N was either stretched out over Felix's lap or Felix had his head against her chest, or maybe one of them was just stretched out on top of the other. Sometimes (only sometimes, definitely not all the time) he wondered what it would be like to swap places with one of them. To be the side Y/N snuggled into, or the stomach Felix burrowed his face in, or better yet - be sandwiched in between them both - but he never voices it. They were affectionate with him in small doses, doing a little more each time, like they were seeing how much he would tolerate. Y/N will invade his spot on the couch and throw her legs over his lap if she's feeling particularly brave. Felix will hug him before they part ways for the night, squeezing around his upper half tightly.

Honestly, their relationship kind of confuses him. He doesn't know if they were together or not and he doesn't ask because it isn't his business. . .but he would like to know. Because if they were, was he supposed to tell Y/N that Felix had a habit of playing footsie with him under the dinner table if they eat together? Running his feet carefully along the side of his calf, continuing the conversation like nothing was amiss, only smiling at Minho when he locks eyes with him. Was he supposed to tell Felix that Y/N's gaze was lingering on him, eyes wandering over his body after he comes home from working out, maybe taking too long to avert her gaze if she sees him walk from his bedroom the the laundry closet in a towel.

Chan is absolutely no help. He laughed at him, said something along the lines of, "Yeah, they're kind of just like that." And leaves it there. When he's forced to do more digging, he asks Seungmin's thoughts on the pair.

Before he answered, he sighed like the mere thought of responding was tiring to him, "They are and they aren't," he replied plainly, and probably would have stopped there had Minho not glared at him, "It's complicated, you should know that by now. Sometimes they have sex with the same people -- I've only seen them date separately a few times." He pulled the drink in front of him to his mouth, taking a sip from his straw and wincing at the bitter taste (Minho's unsure why he continues to get coffee with how much he hates it), "More often than not, they're going for people as a pair though; they've slept with Chan, did you know that?"

No, Minho didn't know that, but after the revelation he struggles not to think about it. How they may have propositioned Chan; Felix soft and quiet, snuggling into his side, batting his big eyes at him. Y/N more forward, pressing into him, straddling his lap and nuzzling at his throat. Both needy and cute, pawing at him, his cock -- he wonders who kissed him first. Was it Y/N, smearing her lips over him warm and sweet? Did she lure him with sweet words how she coaxes Minho to cook a new dish she's worried she'll mess up herself? Or did Felix find comfort in Chan's familiarity and press his mouth against him, firm but tender? Was he gentle? His hand pressed to his cheek, his chest to his chest?

He could see them both, on their knees, their pretty mouths open and lulling over his cock --

But he has to stop himself before he gets too far into it. These were his friends, he shouldn't be thinking about them like that, even if the thought made him harder than he's ever been in his life. Plus, he has trouble not replacing Chan with himself and that causes a whole slew of thoughts to disrupt his mind. Like morning woods that wouldn't go down even when he thinks about giving speeches in front of full auditoriums, or meeting the president (or something like that). Ones that he had to press his hips into the mattress because of, chase after an orgasm that his sleepy weighted mind begged for, before one of them wandered into his room.

Minho never thought that they would go for him. They'd never made the move to and he thinks they had plenty of chances, so he figured maybe he just wasn't their type. Or maybe they knew that doing something like that when all three of them live together would lead to trouble. Whatever their reasoning, Minho thinks it is for the best, and tries to ignore the distant twist in his chest that might suggest he's hurt by it.

They were out for drinks when it happened. Minho doesn't go out a lot but when he does, it was because Y/N and Felix had some how goaded him into it. So after a fair amount of whining and pleading, he let them pick out his outfit (they loved him in double denim, for whatever reason, and Felix is throwing the top at him from his closet while Y/N was pulling the pants from his drawer, and he should really get on them for rummaging through his things but for some reason he doesn't), they left the flat, and they went out. It wasn't just the three of them, of course, Chan was there, Jisung too, and Changbin -- frat guys through and through they were always game for drinks.

Y/N and Felix work the room as they usually do, fluttering out into the crowded space, chatting people up that they knew, that they didn't know -- Minho watches from the side. Chan teases him over it, "Are you their bodyguard?" He inquired, like he had any room to poke fun at someone for seeming protective.

"You'll need a bodyguard if you question me again."

Chan laughs because of course he does, and wiggles up to Minho, worming his arms around him and squeezing his limp but pliant frame, "I'm glad the three of you are getting along. I knew you'd like them."

Did you think I'd like them as much as you did? He wants to ask, Did you think I'd have fucked them by now?

He held his tongue, "Yeah," he replied instead, "It's going well."

At some point throughout the night, Minho had caught sight of Y/N talking to some guy near the bar. She was doing that thing she does, with her eyes, where she's treating him like he might be the only person in the world. Her gaze flickers from his eyes to his mouth, she leans in close, laughs like he's the funniest person in the room (Minho hardly believes that's the case), and he feels something in his gut twist unpleasantly. Now that he thinks about it, he's never seen them actively pursue someone -- not Y/N, nor Felix. He doesn't like it, but it's none of his business, so he drags his gaze away and to the drink he nurses in his hand (he hadn't taken a sip of it for thirty minutes at this point). He would probably head home -- Chan would make sure that they pair returned safely, that is, if one of them (or both of them) didn't end up in someone else's be--

"We'll go home, y'know," Felix startled Minho from his left side, where he'd quietly slid into the booth next to him, his voice deep, low and syrupy, "If you want to, all you'd have to do is text her. It doesn't matter who she's talking to."

Minho turned to look at Felix -- he blinks a few times, rapidly, as if he were readjusting his eyes going inside after being out in the sun for hours. Felix was in a mesh top that didn't hide much of anything, chest out, nipples pebbled from rubbing against the fabric and the cold air in the spot they were in. His sleeves ballooned out, prince-like in structure, to match his prince-like face. His lips look soft and bitten, like he'd been nibbling at them all night -- he has such a bad habit of that. . .not that Minho is staring at his lips, or anything.

"Why would I want to do that?" Minho inquired, forcing himself to sound impassive, but his heart was thundering in his chest.

Felix shrugged, "I was just telling you," he replied, before reaching for Minho's phone on the table, "She'll do anything you want. She's whipped."

Felix is normally much more shy than he was being now; more quiet, and reserved. Lines like that were saved for Y/N when she was feeling bratty and whiny because Felix let Minho pick which sweet he was baking that day, "You're just whipped for him," she'd accuse theatrically, "You'd do anything he wants, even if it was to push me off a cliff!"

Minho lets him take his phone, and watches as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, finding Y/N's contact and typing a message out.

Ready to leave

"Doesn't she want to go home with him?" Minho asks, brows knitted when Felix sent the message, "Why would she leave just because I wanted to?"

"She doesn't want to go home with him, she's just trying to make us jealous."

Make us jealous.

"Oh."

"He's not her type." Felix replied.

"What is her type?" Minho presses, but he shouldn't -- he should really stop talking.

"You," Felix answered easily, "Me."

"Chan too?" He should just shut up.

Felix stops at that, but he doesn't seem caught off guard, or even worried that Minho knew. Instead he smiles gently, leaning further into Minho's body, snuggled close, pressing his face into his bicep, "Watch her, Hyung," he murmured, directing his gaze from where Felix clings to him back across the bar. Y/N's reaching into her bag, holding out a finger to the guy she was speaking to. Her eyes glance over her screen, her lips curl into a smile, and Minho watches in a daze as she says something to the guy, waves, and pivots on her heel. She's facing him and Felix and looks so excited, like they didn't just tell her the night was over. She was wearing something similar to Felix, the top half in mesh but a bralette beneath it to hide her breasts. They always kind of match, when they go out, but still appear unique, within their own styles.

Y/N holds her hands out to both of them, wiggling her fingers, "Let's go home," she sighs, almost dreamy, like she'd been waiting for him to say it.

The walk to the car, Minho's heart still thunders -- he's got them on either side of him, hanging off his arm. Felix has his elbow hooked around Minhos left, while Y/N holds onto the forearm of his right with both hands. They giggle about something he doesn't know, and he's pressing them both into the car (he'd only had one drink, and the pleasant, fuzzy feeling he'd gotten from it had wither away just as quickly as it'd come).

"Do you wanna hang out with us in the living room?" Y/N asks, sitting forward from where she was seat belted in, her hands on either seat in front of her, "Minnie? I wanna keep hanging out."

"Sure." Has he ever been able to say no to them? He doesn't think so.

They're all over the place; Minho sat on the couch, Y/N was beside him but she was stretched out, her head in his lap, cheek resting on his thigh. The skirt of her dress had rucked up, showing more of her thighs than he thinks she probably meant to. Felix moved around, from the floor, to the recliner, sat on the coffee table, then finally settled by straddling Y/N's hips. Y/N groaned from the additional weight but accommodated him, twisting her hips so he rested more comfortably.

"Kiss me," Felix whined, pouting his mouth, and Y/N puckered up easily. She always does -- they share sweet little kisses like this all the time, that wasn't new. Small pecks, because Felix is needy and clingy and Y/N is pliant to his wants.

What's different is that they are never kissing in his lap, this close to his cock. What's different is that instead of just a peck, Felix is nibbling at her mouth, he's licking over her lips with his tongue until she parts them and he's slinking into her mouth. It's wet, Felix groans and Y/N mewls into it, his hands are placed -- one on her hip and one on Minho's thigh, digging the pads of his fingers into him. Minho can't pull his eyes away, even when he knows he should -- even when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he's struggling not to make a noise. He's barely letting out a breath, like if he even moves a little bit they'll remember he's here and stop.

And he wants it -- god he wants it. To be apart of them, in between them, on top of them, beneath them; he'd never realized how much he wanted it until right now. His fingers curl up at his sides, watching them closely, and when Felix finally pulls away to breath there's a thin string of spit connecting their lips. Minho so badly wants to lick it away.

Felix's mouth is all spit slicked and shiny, red, starting to swell. His face is flushed and he paws at her shoulders, but he's looking at Minho. He leans close, but he's slow about it, measured, like he's giving Minho an out but he isn't moving. Minho stays still, and he waits, until Felix is just a breath away and then he's smearing his mouth over his lips.

It's good -- Felix's lips are soft, and gentle. He isn't as eager to slide his tongue into Minho's mouth as he had been with Y/N, but he still pours himself into it. Minho can't think straight, not when he thinks he stopped breathing altogether, and not when Felix finally does lick at his mouth, slide his tongue between his lips, taste the fruity cocktail that Minho had drank. He let Felix set the pace, guide him, and he thinks they probably would have kept going until one of them passed out from both breathing if not for Y/N whining.

It was a muffled sound, and Minho didn't realize why it was muffled until they did part. He looked down where Y/N was staring at him, wide eyes, her mouth stuffed with two of Felix's fingers. Felix giggles, fucking his fingers into her mouth for three shallow thrusts before slipping them out. He pinches at her bottom lip, "She wants kisses too," Felix murmured, "When we fuck and I bring up you kissing her, she always squeezes tighter around me."

"Shut up," she complained, turning to look back at Minho, tilting her head, "Lix always cums harder when I fuck him with my fingers and bring you up."

Felix is already flushed but doesn't seem ashamed, he only hums and presses his fingers back into her mouth, pressing on her tongue, "Don't be a brat," he tells her, "We should be good for him, right? Don't you want to kiss him?" Y/N nodded, "Do you want to kiss her Minnie?"

Minho nods, "I do," he replied."

So they rearrange, and Y/N crawls into Minho's lap and she's on him quick. It's different than Felix, she yields to him easier, lets him guide the kiss more. Minho's head is spinning, Y/N tastes sweet, eager, lulls her tongue around his and rocks against him. Minho grabs her hips, and Felix presses back against Minho's side, snuggling against him. Minho is the one that has to pull back to breathe, sucking in lung fulls of Y/N's air, trying to ground himself in the squeeze of Y/N's hips, "Minnie," Y/N murmurs the nickname, sweet and soft, biting over his bottom lip, "Do you want us?"

"If you don't that's okay," Felix assures him, stroking up and down his arm, "We can forget about this and just cuddle."

Minho doesn't have to think for even a second.

"Yes," he tells them, "Yes, I want you both."

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know, I think Killer getting reunited with his brother after his escape with Color would be really interesting, whether it goes well or horribly wrong.

If it goes well, it would be really interesting to see how Something New Paps deals with Killer not really being his brother (though I am of the idea that he'd love Killer for Killer as well. I just also think it would mean him grieving his brother yet again. This time knowing he'll never have his brother back). It would also be cool to see how he'd get along with the Epic Sanses. I also really would love to see explored what his tentative new dynamic with Killer might be, and how that may change Killer's dynamic with the others too (would he be less codependent with Color with Paps in the picture? Or would he just become dependent on both?).

If it goes horribly, well, it would be interesting to see exactly how horribly. Would Killer panic enough to kill him again? How would he react to that after so long? Would Killer even believe that that's his brother? Would he just deny everything and turn away and then be haunted by the possibilities forever?

I just hhhhhhhh. I've been thinking about them so much. I've never see content about them explored, ever, and the possibilities are giving me brainrot

Yes! This is the stuff I want to see with killer from this fandom. Not more of the same! Let me watch these doomed siblings suffer or heal. The angst having to grief the person you never knew you lost while they’re right in front of you, looking at you, looking through you—only it’s something else with your loved one’s face. Uncanny valley im telling you.

I personally think Papyrus will have a difficult time actually accepting that his brother is gone. Hed subconsciously see signs in Killer—same smile, same twist of the corner of the mouth even if the nature of the smile is different from when Sans told an awful pun, because now Killer is smiling like that when he tells horrible stories he seems to think aren’t horrific at all.

I think how this reunion unfolds definitely depends on the exact situation. If Killer is still trapped under Nightmare or not, or if Color has rescued him.

And if Papyrus has any memory of what Killer did to him and everyone else—because Killer did spend years upon years murdering and horrifically torturing Papyrus and all the others as if they were nothing more than toys.

Killer could look at him, and all Papyrus could see is that empty, dead eyed look as he screams and cries while Killer breaks his bones. As if Killer didn’t recognize who Papyrus was, and if he didn’t care who he was.

And Papyrus, how his reactions during those times could’ve affected Killer. He was in unimaginable pain, terror, and confusion. Hatred and anger and spite are understandable reactions. What are some things he might’ve said to Killer during these moments that stuck with Killer? Begging and pleading, cursing and screaming? Attempting to get Sans to “remember who he is”?

As the world Reset around Killer, did others eventually start changing too? Even if only in small easily missed ways, even if they forgot by the next Reset. Chara and Killer were always in search of something new, after all.

Could Killer trust himself at all around Papyrus? Or would he immediately start thinking about how he has killed him before, how Papyrus could be here for revenge or even worse—for Sans.

Would some part of Killer despise Papyrus for being weak enough to forgive him, just like he always did for the human? Would Killer feel the need to kill Papyrus again—believing it’s what it has to do to prevent something even worse (Stage 4), or perhaps out of panic as you mentioned, or even that anger at Papyrus or just the unimaginable confusion and stress and pain that Papyrus’ presence brings (Stage 3).

Would Papyrus’ presence disjoint Killer’s “placement” in time.

Would seeing him make Killer think he’s back in the Underground with Chara, and thus Papyrus is another enemy he has to deal with. Would he be unable to accept that the Papyrus in front of him is his Papyrus, or would he think it’s just one Papyrus out of a gazillion more, and therefore not worth wasting energy on?

I can definitely see Stage 1 being reluctant to actually be around Papyrus. Not because he hates him or is disgusted by his “weakness” and not even because he thinks he has to kill Papyrus—although he’s very aware that some parts of him very likely do think those things—not only because he can’t trust his own mind, his own desires, but also because he just..feels horrible around Papyrus.

He idealized this image of Papyrus and the life he thinks they used to have, but he has changed. He has done a lot of things. He couldn’t even accept a hug from Papyrus for very long without pushing him away in tears. I think he’d definitely benefit from having his brother back in his life, although I doubt it’d be a very frequent thing.

I can see many instances where guilt, fear, and shame just leads to him trying to “hide” from his emotions in Stage 2, which leads to the usual avoidance behaviors. Which may also lead to him subconsciously blaming Papyrus for being able to have any effect on him at all—given how Stage 2 views it when situations and people are able to make him “feel” anything. As if they are attempting to control him.

So many interesting possibilities—especially given how much Papyrus may know. How much knowledge is he working off?

{ @stellocchia }

[ariiloveskeanu]

I just read your Vincent de gramont head canons and I thought they were really wholesome!!! If you have the time (no pressure, lol) could you do a one shot where the reader accidentally walks in on Vincent while working (perhaps while he kills someone) and now he’s gotta console the reader

marquis vincent de gramont oneshot !

warnings: mentions of death, very brief mention of throwing up, mentions of blood, vague mention of nightmares

this is probably so bad so im genuinely sorry in advance :(( i tried using french pet names so if any of them are translated wrong pls let me know! i'm almost 100% sure i'm using the gender neutral versions but i apologize if they're not, though this is completely gender neutral! i've definitely written better than this and i'm sorry if the writing is kinda icky, it's 12 am where i love so im extremely tired :c i'm also very sorry to the ppl who have been requesting, i'm trying to make each one as good as i can without throwing out random words!! i lowk enjoyed writing this so i hope you like it and thank you for requesting!!

[Name] felt as if they owed vincent. They felt as if they owed him for all the kind things he's done for them during their transition back to normal life. They knew how hard he worked for them, how many things he's had to sacrifice to get them where they were. [Name] fixed him his favorites on a platter, taking their time and putting their care into it. [Name] knows he could easily have someone bring stuff to him as he pleases but, they missed him too much to miss the opportunity.

It was hard leaving their old life behind. It does things to you, being so desensitized to hurt and pain. It took them a while to acknowledge that. Years of nightmares plaguing their dreams of a better life are far behind them now. Vincent always made jokes about it, how they went from a cold hearted contract killer to his fiancé in a matter of 4 years. It was beautiful to them.

The sound of slippers pattering against the floor rung throughout the hallway, the only sound [Name] could make out as they approached his office. [Name] took a deep breath, shaking their head to rid themselves of their negative thoughts and the growing pit in their stomach. The feeling was far to familiar to go unnoticed.

One knock, then two, then three, that turned into four. Usually, he would call out and let them in. The silence was deafening and it was the sound of ringing ricocheting off their skull that brought [Name] back to reality. They hissed, feeling the sudden migraine. They balanced the tray in one hand, the other moving to push open the door.

The sound of glasses shattering rang through the large office as the heads of his guardsmen snapped towards the source.

There was blood everywhere. The metallic smell overwhelming their senses and nearly pushing up their breakfast.

"V-Vincent?" [Name]'s voice strained as they looked at the scene in front of them. Multiple bodies with multiple bullet wounds laying dead on the marbled floor, and their dear husband wielding the gun.

What were they supposed to think? It's not like it was anything they weren't used to, but life in the lap of luxury was almost too good of an opportunity for them to ruin by staying in the same old violent habits they had before.

"Now, now, no need to be so dramatic," Vincent said in a gentle yet seemingly dismissive tone, uncanny in comparison to the violent scene that lays in front of him.

It had been so long since they last saw something like this, so long since they last saw him do something like this. [Name] understands it's part of the job, they really do, and they thought they had been okay with that. But seeing the lifelessness in their eyes, the blood on Vincent's hands, and knowing that he had just taken lives was very different than imagining it and forcing themselves to forget about it. It all came rushing back to them, and the years of trauma and guilt they felt just for being a part of this violent lifestyle hit [Name] all at once.

"What did you do?!" [Name] says, their voice hoarse yet lowered as to not push him further. They step further into the room, looking around and letting their glassy eyes fall on the man they loved.

"I didn't mean to cause you any distress. We're just carrying out a business transaction. The client pays, we provide a service." [Name] nods shakily, watching as his bodyguards exited the room to give them privacy.

"I know, Vincent." They say, looking up at him the sound of his thick french accent. [Name] sniffles and wipes the few tears off of their face. [Name] ignored everything past his first sentence, inevitably yearning for his comfort.

They step over the bodies, walking over to him as he stood behind his desk. They wrap their arms around him, their head resting on his chest as he rubbed their back.

As flawed as they both were, [Name] knew that it wasn't worth getting upset over. As much as they tried to bury those memories, as much as they tried to forget that part of their life, [Name] knew it was doing more harm than good to just push it down instead of accepting it and moving on. He taught them that. Through their many breakdowns and slip ups, he would always be there.

"I know you're frightened, seeing me like this. I understand it. Let me assure you, mon chéri, I had no choice but to do what I did. I tried to reason with them, to avoid bloodshed, but they would not listen. Please know, mon amour, I would never hurt you."

[Name] rubbed his back aswell, nodding their head as they took a step back and wrapped their arms around his neck.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, mon cher. I chose to leave that behind, I don't get to make that choice for you." They reassured, feeling slightly guilty for making a 'big deal' over something that seemed so unimportant in their point of view.

"Don't feel guilty, love. You can't help what you feel, can you? It's what makes you, you." Vincent says, his previously cold demeanor softening as he rests his hands on their waist. He leans in to press a warm kiss on their lips. "I wouldn't want you any different, mon amour, truly."

[randomatthingy]

An observation on The Stranger

Something that I find interesting about The Stranger is its ties to the Circus and Fairs because, in times before the internet, they were a prime feeder of The Stranger. Picture this, you are living in a small town of 20 or so people in the middle of nowhere. You know everyone, everyone knows you. If something happens, you know about it instantly. You can have a perfect interaction with everyone.

Then they come. A group of people from elsewhere. They come, set up shop in Mr. Whatnot's abandoned field, and then open the gates. Strange colors fill your eyes, unknown scents fill your nose, and you partake in activities that you could have never thought of. All the while, the outsiders that opened the circus or fair do activities that should be impossible for people to do. They swallow swords, breathe fire, and their bodies contort in odd manners. They all wore masks and heavy makeup, so you can't tell their true feelings or emotions. You try and talk to them, but theirs something wrong. You don't know them well enough to have meaningful conversations, and what you can learn is but the surface of who they truly are.

Then, after the weekend, they're gone. You'd expect their big top to take down longer, but it doesn't. They're just gone Monday morning. You will probably never see them again, these outsiders, with their strange games and abilities, masks to hide their identities, and unknown personalities are gone, forever. Maybe they come again, maybe another group like them, but it's always different, a little uncanny. If one of their numbers were to come without a mask or makeup, you wouldn't recognize them, and they would have probably worn many different masks and makeup schemes throughout one night, so you couldn't even place them if you had talked to them.

And sometimes, these outsiders would disappear with someone. The blacksmith's son, or the orchard keeper's daughter. Or they give something. Maybe the old miller has a weird plant he likes to burn now, maybe the general store owner's wife now has a cough, not unlike the lion tamer had, and now the doctor has it too. You know this is linked to the strange people from elsewhere that brought the carnival to town, or maybe not. You wouldn't know. You don't even know what one looks like underneath the mask. You didn't spend enough time with them before they left to recognize their voice. If that doesn't scream Stranger, I don't know what will.

[progenycursed]

Just wanna say that I love your Wyrm headcanons. I feel like not many people explore the idea that the pale king is basically an alien compared to normal bugs.

I look forward to his interactions with the other bugs, specifically Herrah and Hornet, in the future.

I love the idea of the Pale King being more like an alien, god, eldritch horror kind of being. He is a so vastly different to mortal bugs that it would like comparing a blue whale to an mouse. Biologically, mentally, and behaviorally. Nothing is the same. Which means that miscommunication and misunderstandings are the norm. What he would consider to be polite, they could interpret as a upset or even homicidal. What he thinks is a perfect mirroring of mortals bugs, is seen as dead center of the uncanny valley levels of creepy, and down right horrifying when he still moves and acts like a wrym.

It was so bad, that in the beginning, he was not a good god. Not out of malice, he just didn’t know. For example:

The concept that mortals, beings a fraction of a fraction of his size, needed to eat multiple times in a day was just baffling to him. Famine and starvation was common until he understood that.

Normal wrym vocalizations that he did absentmindedly were terrifying to mortals. Many thinking it meant he was angry. Leading to some nasty ‘rituals’ the mortals come up with the try and appease the not actually angry god.

Even after he cast off his shell to better study the mortals without disrupting them, the problems were still present. Sure, the god king is now mortal size, but why doesn’t he emote? Gesture? Breath!?

But thanks to a select few mortals who were willing to speak up, he learned over the cycles how to be a better god king and less creepy. In fact, he goes out of his way to have as many of these individuals around him as he can. People who aren’t afraid to tell him he’s doing something wrong.

I want to make a post at some point with a more extensive list of some of the advice these Kings’ Keepers have given him over the cycles. From the ones at the start of it all telling him how to not kill his people, to the later ones explaining the concept of art.

And while he can always change his behaviors, he can’t change his physiology. Even gods are subject to the laws of biology. So he will always be as alien as the day he cast off his shell. He just got better at masking it.

And I’m so glad to hear you like the concept. As you said, its one that isn’t explored often. A god trying to act mortal, it’s a fun idea. And I am greatly looking forward to the reveal of the Pale King with his bindings off and full feral mode on.

[millionyearhearts]

sebastian michaelis but him having no idea how to be human translates into his looks so while he can pretty much pull it off, there is still something unexplainably "off" about him, giving him almost an uncanny valley type look? like, he's undeniably beautiful and everyone wants to bang him but if u look a little too close or catch him when he's distracted (when hes not putting too much effort into maintaining his persona) or even just at first glance he has. some weirdly distorted features u can't rly put ur finger on

because how can he be so intimidating to so many characters? mf is a twink with a fat ass and a fringe i bet he'd make ppl giggle irl UNLESS he genuinely has a spooky smile or eyes that have no real light in them or facial expressions that contort in just the right way to be off-putting. like, brow sets just a little too heavy, gaze is blank and seems to trail into the distance, thin lips stretch into too wide of a smile, corners of his eyes don't crinkle, arms and legs that are just a little too long for comfort, completely smooth and unmarred lineaments that give him almost a waxy/mannequin-like skin texture...

weird shit!! not even terrifying, but deeply unnerving or unsettling to the point where a lot of people do not. want. to stand too close to this black-clad butler because. "why. do his eyes do that?? why does his jaw?? curve like th- that doesn't look- normal??"

the only one who doesn't notice it anymore is o!ciel (even tho he definitely did in the beginning) so sometimes the servants will confer with one another and try to explain how mr. sebastian looks *different* but they don't have the vocabulary or comprehension to really put it to words. all they can really say is that, despite how much they love the guy, they feel discomforted when he looks at them too long

ofc, after a while, everyone in the house gets used to it. every single creepy victorian porcelain doll child earl needs an uncanny valley inhuman wax statue creature thing by his side, right?

AND DONT GET ME WRONG SEBASTIAN AINT UGLY!! HES SEXY!!! we been knew!!! but. cmon man u mean to tell me that he. he looks. normal. no way he looks normal HE LOOKS WEIRD!!! spooky creepy "hey uh idk how i feel about going to the phantomhive manor again bc that butler squicks me out"!!!

gimme skinwalker sebastian 💥💳💥💳

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: Fall to Pieces (Chapter Six)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 3.3 k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used Author Notes: As always, thank you for all your feedback, likes and reblogs so far – it means a lot and I’m having so much fun writing this fic. I’d love to know what you think of this next chapter so please feel free to comment, reblog or even send an ask!

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This is all too much. it’s not enough Blue is haunting him by working in the same embassy, in being assigned to be his glorified babysitter but to be living in the Tome apartment he used to live in?

Javi’s really pissed some karmic force off.

It was surreal, standing there in the Tome apartment he used to live in and suddenly flooded with all those memories while being aware that everything was slightly different, slightly out of place. There were different photos, different plants, different smells and personal touches. It was uncanny.

And then he’d almost kissed you.

He still can’t quite reconcile your reaction, can’t quite make sense of it all. It doesn’t matter though; it was a bad idea. A terrible idea even. There’s something in Javi - whenever he’s faced with those regrets and mistakes, whenever things seem to be going wrong, he wants to find solace in someone else. He did that with Katie, the intern, and he wanted to do that with you too.

Or was it more? He knows you, or at least knew you once. You’re part of his history, of his hometown. In Bogotá that makes you a spectre, reminding him of who he wanted to be, who he used to be. There’s something soothing yet so confusing about your presence right now.

He thinks about you, about what would have happened if you had kissed, the way your lips would have felt, how far it could have gone. Even now, every time you’re in the Tome room, he can feel the rising temptation, the desire to be closer to you, to be with you. He’s no longer immune to the smell of your perfume, to the way you look down at the ground for a microsecond before you smile, or how you fiddle with your necklace when you’re thinking about something. There’s something simultaneously fierce and vulnerable about you; that keeps you an enigma to him.

That moment in your home - at his old apartment - opened a door to something he was trying to keep locked away.

He’s glad nothing happened, glad he didn’t ruin everything with you as well. He probably would have.

That seems to be the way of things now.

Days have passed since the arrest and with them, an itching sensation has risen that things are going downhill. The pressure is slowly building, the tension mounting. Javi feels like he’s a lobster in boiling water, unable to escape and aware of what is coming and not sure whether there’s any fight left, or if he should just accept his fate.

He remembers the way the panic rose as he was called out in the meeting after the arrest; asked what his roadmap to victory was. This new role with its suits, ties and endless meetings? It’s not really him.

He can’t give up though. The names and faces of so many of the people he has let down in Colombia haunt him. Without someone like Martinez on his side too, Javi’s worried.

He needs results. He needs to find Jurado, to get more evidence. If he can’t do this, all the evidence his team has amassed, the progress he’s made, will collapse like a house of cards.

So, he asks Stoddard to play the wiretap tapes, tries to ignore how Stoddard reacts to that, pretends he didn’t hear Stoddard say you would not react well if you found out about this. Instead, he asks Stoddard about where he sees his career in five years if he asks others that question on the tapes’ legality and he feels the weight of the job add just a little more to his shoulders.

The odds are stacked against him, against bringing down this cartel.

What is he supposed to do?

“Please tell me this is a joke, your idea of humour perhaps?” you ask, voice acerbic and body taut.

Ever since you overhead Stoddard talking to one of your colleagues in thinly guided hypothetical scenarios a few hours ago, you’ve been waiting for this conversation. You had to sit through a meeting with your manager while quietly planning out everything you would calmly say to tear Javier Peña apart. It is a true skill to be able to do that while looking like you are listening to whatever the other person was saying.

In the past few hours, you have toyed with several reactions. From screaming at him in front of everyone to using that cold, deadly voice you only used at work when someone had really upset you. In some of your more extreme imagined responses, you have thrown the empty glasses in his office against the wall and roared too. However, that strikes you as a little excessive. You’ll save that for Plan C perhaps.

Monologues have been meticulously planned, edited, and rehearsed under your breath as you went about your day. You mentally experimented with the timbre of your voice as you spooned coffee into your mug, with exactly which words to use to best craft your argument, your admonishment.

Only now you’re here, facing Javi and it’s real.

“Blue, I-” Javi looks at you with those deep brown eyes, pleading somehow, but you refuse to fall for that.  He’s wearing one of those infuriating well-fitting shirts, the top button undone and tie loosened.

You almost kissed him …

You look over and notice the ash tray on his desk is once again filled with cigarettes and his desk is covered in scattered papers and files.

You know he’s been under pressure. Over the months, you’ve noticed the way he fidgets; the way he automatically moves his fingers when he’s nervous or under pressure. You know what the higher ups are asking of him, you know it’s a lot for one person to bear. To do what he’s done though? Any sympathy ebbs away.

“Because,” you continue, your voice venomous and arms folded, “after everything we’ve talked about, I know you wouldn’t knowingly instruct one of your team to conduct a wiretap like that, not without going through the correct processes. I know that, right? Because you’re not a complete fucking idiot.”

“I am trying to get a fucking case so we can stop the Cali cartel. Stop being naive!” Javi snaps, finally showing his real feelings. He’s not sorry, you know he isn’t, and that makes this even worse.

“By using an illegal wiretap? Do you have any idea what that could do to the case? Yes, of course you do which is why you didn’t tell me.”

“I was protecting you.”

“That’s not your job, Javi. My job is to protect this case and right now you’re hindering me.”

”Look, I know we can’t use the tapes -”

“Or anything from them! It’s fruit of the poisoned tree, Javier. This entire avenue of investigation isn’t so much on shaky ground as it is utterly destroyed. I - I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

Your head is throbbing and you massage your temples to no avail.

“It took a while, but I am almost there with Franklin Jurado’s wife, Blue and then -”

“Oh, I bet you are,” you bite back.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

“What do you think?” you retort, completely lost to the argument at this point. Everything in you is saying to be calm, rational, to not let your emotions dictate but you are infuriated by what Javi has done.

It isn’t just about how ill-advised, how unethical it all is or how it could compromise your case. It’s because he did it anyway, knowing what your role was, knowing the position it would leave you in.

“I’m waiting on a - confirmation of something and then I’ll know where he is and we’ll get him. It’ll be solid. I have a plan.”

You sigh. “You better, Javi, you better.”

The parcel arrives the day after your confrontation with Javi. You immediately recognise the messy handwriting as one of your closest friends from back home, Shelley. Immediately it acts like a balm for your sharp edges and irritation.

To both your amusement and horror, during college she started dating one of your best friends from home, Carlos. Now the two of them are married and live in Laredo of all places. Shelley hosts a local radio show and while the people of your hometown generally seem to prefer more mainstream music to Nine Inch Nails, Shelley is persistently building a small, devoted following.

You miss them both. Shelley had made it clear that she had hoped you would come back to Texas when it was clear you needed to leave DC. She had even joked in your last phone call when you first arrived in Bogotá that she’d told you to go for a fresh start, a new job, but not to leave the damn country!

Over recent years, you’ve mostly ended up meeting outside of Laredo at concerts for bands you loved or last summer you’d all hired a house by the coast for a week. It had been you, Shelley, Carlos and Jamie, your now ex-boyfriend. 

The box has arrived at a perfect time. Javi and you were even more tentative around each other today. Yesterday’s frustration was so thick in the air you could taste it, feel it constricting around your body like insulation.

Beyond that, you’ve been riddled with doubts, anxieties, and unwanted memories since the near kiss. It’s like one moment has dropped you months into the past, back to a time you don’t want to think about.

You hate the double standards and hypocrisy at play, the assumptions you’re trying to prevent. You hate the politics of it all - the way you must prove yourself and prove yourself and never ever let a single vulnerability show while you’re at work.

You don’t open the box from your friends until you’re in your apartment, perched on the edge of your couch as you tentatively cut it open.

There are numerous packets of some of your favourite types of candy, several new paperbacks, three letters and most excitingly of all, two cassette tapes.

It’s funny how just a few small touches can immediately transport you somewhere else, can make you feel a little lighter.

You take in the three envelopes, one is clearly from Shelley, it looks the longest, the next is clearly from Carlos and is short but sweet. The other you can tell by the blocky handwriting is from Jamie. You’d spoken to him before you left for Colombia, told him that Shelley would be the best way to reach you if he wanted to.

You’ve never stayed friends with an ex before, but Jamie is different. You think the real indicator of this was that several months after your break-up when everything had kicked off in DC, he had been there for you, been a steady and calming presence when you were questioning everything and Shelley and Carlos were so far away. It’s probably part of the reason he’s still tolerated enough by Shelley and Carlos that they let him send his contribution to your care package via them, that they would even have reached out to him to get this or would have known you would be okay with that.

For a second you remember the time the four of you had met in New York to go to a concert for a band you all loved. Everything seemed simpler then - life, relationships, work.

You think about the adrenaline of this job; of how much your life has changed since then. Would you ever have imagined having dinner with Javi after he arrested a cartel leader back then?

This country is changing you slowly. Perhaps it’s not all for the bad either.

You open one of the packets of candy and the letter from Shelley first.

Shelley’s letter makes you feel like she’s right there in the room talking to you. You smile warmly at the memories of your friendship with her. Shelley’s always encouraged you, always been there for you, she’s been that supportive voice in all of those moments where you’ve wondered if you can do something. She’s been a friend you haven’t been able to shut out, who hasn’t let you push her away. You hope you represent something similar to her.

One passage stands out in letter because even in this moment, you can’t escape Javi.

Your brother says that a certain Javier Peña is out in Colombia too, which I didn’t think was a big deal but Carlos tells me definitely is. I think I saw him at Danny’s wedding and if I’m right, he is a tall glass of water. Do you see him at work? Tell me everything!

Well Shelley, you think, I completely messed up and almost kissed him, then rejected him and the man just leaves me completely confused. I may also have chewed him out spectacularly yesterday so I don’t think he’d ever want to kiss me again, even I wanted to.

You miss your friends; you wish you could more readily just phone Shelley and have a long talk over a glass of wine. You need to write back to her. Carefully, of course. There is so much that cannot be put in writing at all lest it fall into the wrong hands.  Words are slippery in a world like this; you can’t just say whatever you are thinking, but you can’t avoid replying either.

You can’t concentrate on the letters though. Your confrontation with Javi still rages through your veins - you’ve analysed everything you could have said differently, come up with several witty comebacks you missed and perhaps worst of all, in your mind you ended the discussion far more positively.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if it wasn’t for the near kiss. That’s just as confusing in your mind too.

You were reckless with Javi. There is no way you can afford being seen that way here. It’s too close, too risky, too much. You have already left one job, fled the country once. If anyone from DC even heard whispers about what could have happened with you and Javi …

You scowl, trying to stop your spiral as quickly as possible. It’s okay, nothing has happened.

You take another piece of candy and sigh. You need to forget about what almost happened with Javi. For both of your sakes.

Willemstad is beautiful. The mix of painted buildings and blue ocean makes it look like paradise. You never expected that you would be somewhere like here on a work trip.

A couple of days ago, when Javi had told you he finally had located Jurado, you expected that you would just create the motions and legal briefs. You’d sit in your open plan office and listen out to hear whether the operation was successful. Only now you’ve been swept along with him to this amazing place and you feel a complete imposter.

You’re not an agent; you’re a lawyer. This isn’t like any courtroom or legal office you’ve encountered before.

“Stoddard’s confirmed all the logistics, right?” you ask as you start to walk towards the main police building with Javi, happy to be stretching your legs after the short flight.

“Yes. It should all be in place so you don’t need to worry about that. I wanted you here more for the Miami side - I need this guy on US soil as soon as possible and when he is -”

“We need a deal.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’ll cooperate? Has the wife given any indication of that when you uh, spoke to her?”

“I think he has to. Fuck, Blue, for this to work then he has to. I need his testimony.”

You look at Javi. For a moment you’re taken aback to some of your initial thoughts about him in Bogotá; that he looked like Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders. How is it possible he looks even more burdened now?

“Let’s get it then. I’ll work on the paperwork while you arrest him.”

He’s covered in sweat, a grim smile on his face. The pink shirt he was wearing this morning, the one you thought looked infuriatingly good on him, is darkened with sweat.

“He’s arrested then?” you ask cautiously. You’d heard that Javi’s original plan to arrest him within the grounds of the bank was shut down by the police; apparently that wasn’t how things were done in Curacao. From Javi’s appearance it’s clear a chase has taken place.

Javi nods, running a hand through his sweaty hair and you wonder how easy the arrest was for him and the team. “We’re getting the plane ready and we’re going straight to Miami. The Ambassador said the extradition papers were set? Have you updated Justice?”

You point at a pile of papers in front of you. While Javi’s appears to have been chasing Jurado all around Curaçao, you’ve been stuck in this room typing up briefs and motions in preparation.

“We should have everything we need. I spoke to the Ambassador earlier and then the team in Miami before you came in and we’re all set,” you say, stifling a yawn as you stretch your legs. You’ve been sitting for too long.

You hand Javi your glass of water. He looks like he needs it more than you and he gratefully accepts, gulping it down. You try not to notice the rivulets of sweat on his neck as he does that.

“Have you spoken to Stoddard about the wife? The moment the cartel knows, Javi, they will - and if I were Franklin, I wouldn’t have a deal unless she was included and safe.”

“I know, I’m calling now. We’ve got to get this all in place before they know we have him.”

   It feels like you barely have time to collect your thoughts before you’re on a plane with Javi and Franklin Jurado on your way back to the United States.

You hear snippets of Javi’s conversations with Franklin as you walk back from the bathroom but you’re not paying attention to what is said. Instead you are intent on using the flight time to get ahead on the many other briefs and motions you need to complete, to test out the exact wording of the plea deal with Franklin Jurado, to complete the plans and decision trees for Justice and Jurado’s lawyers just in case.

You miss the courtroom.

You’ve realised that’s where you shine, where you feel able to most make a difference. This job, as varied, as unexpected as it is, is a step removed from that. It’s more about diplomacy, about briefings and managing interested parties and application of the law but not in a courtroom, not where you feel most at ease.

You can’t regret this job. There are so many parts where you feel you are adding value and you needed to leave DC regardless. This was the right decision.

Javi gets up from his seat, walking over and leaning over you from the aisle. You immediately put your file down and look at him.

“We’re landing in a few minutes. You ready for this, Blue? Is the deal ready?”

“Oh yes,” you say with a slight smile, “Now you’re in my wheelhouse, Javi.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says in a low voice.

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[snootlestheangel]

Cheers to the Unknown Pt.2

Monster/cryptid au ft. Just A Dude!Ghost; canon-divergent, alternate universe. More details here (parts are not a coherent story necessarily just scenarios as they come to me !subject to change!;all tagged under "cheers to the unknown") TW: some body horror, language

Meeting The Team

John Price being an inhuman probably would have upset Ghost more had he not been so numb to the world. Ghost had been officially born; Simon Riley was dead, along with his family. Crude, ugly scars twisted his face into a mock grin, something he learned is called a Glasgow smile. If Ghost himself could not bear to see them in the mirror, why would anyone else? How could anyone else? So he took to covering his face. Thus Ghost was born.

Now, Simon Riley had worked with John Price before his supposed death, but it wasn't for long and he still didn't really know the man. He knew Price to be a good man, however, and was rather pleased to hear he'd be working under the captain.

The mission itself was a simple infiltrate and extract operation, one that Ghost could probably do perfectly well on his own. But alas, given the novelty of his new identity, many higher ranking personnel refused to allow him solo for the time being. At least Ghost was stuck with someone relatively decent from his limited experience, and a fellow human.

Or at least Ghost thought he was with another human. He was due for a very nasty reality check when he happened to glance over at the Captain while tightening his tac vest. Ghost stopped all motion as he watched with sickening horror as Price's appearance contorted into a lowly guard for the site they were infiltrating. Price groaned a bit as he popped a few joints in adjustment to his different body.

"You alright?" Price asked in a noticeably different voice as he noticed the wide eyes of the lieutenant.

"Fine, sir." He snapped out, perhaps a bit too quickly. He wasn't all that shocked to be honest, a man of Price's reputation can't possibly be human, and it validated Ghost's feelings of uncanny valley when interacting with Price. It had seemed his intuition that something was different proved right. He wasn't shocked, no, more angry that no one bothered to tell him.

"I thought you knew." Price spoke quietly, almost sheepishly, at Ghost's sharp response.

"Quite frankly, sir, I don't give a shit. We've got a job to do, and I take it you've got a plan." Ghost meets Price's eyes, his expression earnest despite being blank. Price smirked back, slowly nodding.

"That I do."

~~~~~~

Ghost never enjoyed being assigned to various teams of rather inexperienced soldiers, especially ones run by cocky, know-it-all sergeants. He had arrived after the team to assist them with the stealth aspect of their assignment, since their last one had apparently gone haywire. Granted, it wasn't a real assignment, but rather a simulation and Ghost was there to teach them where they went wrong last time. Ghost scanned the clearing where the men were gathered, the cold spray from the sea chilling him even through all his layers.

"Glad you could make it, Lieutenant!" The sergeants, Ghost couldn't be bothered to remember his name, waved in greeting. Ghost resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead remained quiet as he took his place.

"Do you have a plan for getting inside the walls?" Ghost asked, and the sergeant nodded, briefly patting the air tank in front of him.

"There's a locking system under the water against this side gate. I can easily be in and out. The gate will open and I'll meet the men on the inside." Sergeant Daniels, as Ghost suddenly remembered, said rather matter-of-factly. Ghost frowned at him. The plan didn't make sense, but he didn't want to say anything until after the fact, so as to avoid getting into an argument before anything has a chance to go wrong. Sergeants like this one loved to argue. Ghost didn't.

"Have you checked the tank?" Ghost asked, and the sergeant's eyes widened a bit before he bent over to check. Ghost did roll his eyes this time, and instead let his gaze wander to the small team. Most of them looked as green as they probably were, but one didn't. Instead of looking apprehensive like his counterparts, he seemed at peace, his stance relaxed and a small, almost knowing smirk on his lips. He met Ghost's eye and vaguely nodded his head towards Daniels, only to match Ghost's eye roll.

He hated to admit it, but Ghost already liked this kid. He was a corporal, given the markings on his uniform, but he still seemed to know more than the Sergeant.

"Um, there's a problem with the air tank. I'll lose more air than I get to breathe if I take this down." Daniels's nervous voice drew back Ghost's attention, but before he practically snapped his neck to look, he noticed the subtle face palm from the corporal.

"Got a spare?" Ghost snapped, and Daniels shook his head.

"That's mistake number one. Never under prepare. Better safe than a dead man." Ghost barked out, barely containing his anger. He really didn't want to be spending his weekend like this.

"I can breathe underwater." A different voice spoke up, and Ghost felt a bit of relief seeing it came from the corporal.

"How well can you see under there?" Ghost asked and the kid fought back a grin, settling for a small smile.

"Pretty damn well, I'd say." He responds, and Ghost nods. He turns back to glare at Daniels.

"You'd better be fucking grateful he volunteered. You won't be so lucky next time." He said, as dark and threatening as he could be without scarring the idiot for life. Daniels nodded strongly before taking a step back to allow Ghost full authority.

"Got a name, Corporal?" Ghost asked, and the man opened his mouth and closed it again before he gave a formal response.

"Kyle Garrick, sir." Ghost quirked a brow in question.

"Did you have something else to say?"

"I was only going to be smart-ass with your question, sir." Garrick responded, standing a bit straighter as if expecting the already agitated lieutenant to snap.

"Well then let's hear it." Ghost replied, surprising even himself.

"Was only going to say, no, I actually don't have a name." Garrick quipped back, and Ghost nodded, almost solemnly.

"A fellow unloved child, I see. Good to know." Ghost said, and Garrick let out a small laugh in shock.

"Permission to dive, sir?" He asked and Ghost scanned him briefly. The corporal really wasn't dressed for the weather, but given the fact he can apparently breathe underwater, Ghost supposed it didn't really matter.

"Can you disable the lock and alarm system?" He asked, and Garrick confidently nodded.

"Go for it." And with the lieutenant's permission, Garrick gracefully slipped into the water with barely a sound. Ghost shook his head after briefly glancing at Daniels, deciding not to push anything for his own sanity.

It wasn't long at all, rather only a minute or two, before the corporal resurfaced, giving them the go ahead. The rest of the simulation was a disaster on all fronts that didn't include Corporal Garrick. Ghost had yelled himself raw afterwards, and he even allowed Garrick to slip away before the berating began. Afterwards, as Ghost headed to his temporary quarters for the night, he passed the corporal.

"You did good out there, Garrick." Ghost said, half expecting the corporal to not have heard him approach. Instead, he gave Ghost a smile and a nod, seemingly already aware of his presence. It was times like this Ghost was jealous of his inhuman counterparts for their uncanny abilities to detect subtle changes around them.

"Thank you, sir. And, most people call me Gaz." He responded, his smile brightening. Ghost frowned at him, uncertain as to why he felt so drawn by him. He must've stared too long, as Gaz's face suddenly twisted into embarrassment. Iridescent scales slowly faded into view along his cheek bones and along the crest of his nose.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting some species are more... susceptible." Gaz muttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Ghost didn't understand why Gaz had said species instead of humans specifically, as that was more likely to be the case, but he didn't question it. He also didn't question what he meant by susceptible, but he refused to ask for his own peace.

"Well, good night, then. Hope to work with you again, Gaz." Ghost mumbled, and Gaz smiled once again.

"Thank you, sir. I hope to work with you, as well."

~~~~~~

Meeting Sergeant MacTavish was an... interesting experience for him, to say the least. Ghost had heard stories of the sergeant with the ability to produce lightning from his fingertips and a knack for blowing shit up. Yeah, because that's the perfect man for a stealth op.

Perhaps it was because Ghost had underestimated him, or perhaps it was the typical pre-mission jitters he still hasn't gotten used to, but something put him on edge when he saw the sergeant. Every hair on his body stood on end as the man approached him, a confident, if not cocky, grin stuck on his face. Thunder rolled in the distance, and something quite literally flashed in the Scotsman's eyes.

"Let's make this one a win, yeah Lt? Save you a seat, sir." Soap said, punctuating his sentence with a light punch to Ghost's shoulder that sent a harmless, yet startlingly shock through his body. Ghost watched him saunter away and onto the carrier as his heart beats loudly in his chest.

He'll never catch a break, will he?

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