#welcome to Structural Integrity!!

[gremmllin]

Pt 1

Haha I've done it I've made an Undertale au comic welcome to Structural Integrity

First/ next

[thedensworld]

Black Card Issue | L. Jh

Genre: fluff, est. relationship, smut

Summary: after a fight, Jihoon didn't expect to receive notifications for a revenge. However, he's not complaining.

Note: having so much fun writing this with @hoshifighting please check lyla's blog here!

Welcome to the densworld woozi🧚‍♀️

Jihoon is a chill man. Very chill. He values his peace of mind so much that no one dares disturb him when he’s in the zone, writing music. His studio is his sanctuary, a place where time stops and the world outside becomes irrelevant. No one crosses that boundary. No one—until you came into his life.

A little bundle of surprise, Jihoon would say with a soft smile. You changed everything.

You love surprises. It’s something Jihoon figured out pretty early on, back when you were just dating. And now, after years together and tying the knot, he knows it’s not just something you like—it’s a part of you. You’re the kind of person who thrives on spontaneity. The joy in your eyes when you do something unexpected, whether it’s a small gift or a sudden change of plans, has become a familiar sight. Surprises are so integral to your personality that impulsivity became second nature to you, a habit you didn’t even realize you had.

And Jihoon? Well, he’s had to become well-trained in handling it.

It wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. Six months into dating, Jihoon was already struggling to keep his composure around you. You were a whirlwind of energy and unpredictability, and Jihoon was the type who liked things calm and structured—especially when it came to his work. But then you would send him something, like that photo on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, just as he was about to attend a critical production meeting. A suggestive caption accompanying a picture of you that left him flushed and flustered.

He spent the rest of that day with his head spinning, barely able to focus on anything other than you.

His team noticed, of course. They always noticed when Jihoon was distracted—because it was rare. They’d been with him for over ten years, watching him pour his soul into his music, dedicated and unwavering. But you? It took you mere months to have Jihoon wrapped around your finger. And the best part? Jihoon willingly let it happen. He wanted to be wrapped around your finger.

And as much as his members teased him, he didn’t mind. Jihoon had always been the calm one, the focused one, the one who could drown out the world when he needed to. But with you, he didn’t want to drown out anything. He wanted to hear your laughter in the background while he worked. He wanted to receive those random photos in the middle of his meetings, even if they made him blush.

Now, Jihoon finds himself in his studio. Not the one at home, but the company studio. It was unusual—his fellow producers were surprised to see him there at this hour. 10 a.m.? That’s too early for Jihoon to be at work, they thought, especially since he rarely left the home studio after getting married.

“Did you two fight?” Soonyoung asked, making a quick stop before his schedule.

Jihoon didn’t answer. He simply turned the volume up, drowning out Soonyoung’s voice. Soonyoung scoffed but left, convinced that the only reason Jihoon would be at the company so early was if you two had fought. He knew Jihoon too well.

"Stop working for a while, man. Give your wife a rest," Soonyoung muttered as he left the studio. Jihoon cursed internally. How could Soonyoung read him so easily?

The truth was, last night didn’t go well. It was one of those nights Jihoon wished he could rewind—just take it all back. He came home late again, far too late. The kind of late where the house was eerily quiet, and the only light on was the one in the living room. He didn’t even realize how long he’d been working until he saw the notifications on his phone—your texts, your missed calls.

His heart sank. The guilt hit him immediately, but exhaustion numbed him from fully acknowledging it. He braced himself as he turned the knob, pushing the door open, hoping maybe you had gone to bed. But there you were, sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your phone lying idle beside you. You weren’t saying a word, but your silence screamed disappointment. And Jihoon knew—he’d screwed up again.

He paused at the doorway, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you didn’t. The air between you was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made his stomach twist. He hated it when you looked at him like that, like you were waiting for him to care enough to explain himself.

But instead of apologizing, instead of doing what he knew he should have done, Jihoon snapped.

"I work for you! I work hard to afford the life you want! Why don’t you understand?!" His voice rose, frustration dripping from every word. He didn’t mean it to come out that way. He didn’t mean to make it sound like you were the problem, like you were the one pushing him to the edge. But in that moment, he was too overwhelmed to control it.

The silence that followed was deafening. He saw the way your face fell, the way your shoulders slumped as if his words had physically weighed you down. You didn’t even argue back. You just stood there, absorbing the blow, your eyes wide and hurt, like you couldn’t believe the person you loved could say something so cruel. Jihoon could see it—the disappointment, the pain, the betrayal in your eyes.

He knew you weren’t with him for his money. He knew that from the start. You never cared about his fame, his success. You never asked for lavish gifts or expensive things. What you wanted—what you always asked for—was him. His time. His presence. But Jihoon, in his frantic rush to meet deadlines and exceed expectations, had forgotten.

He was so tired. The stress had piled up to the point that it felt like he was suffocating under the weight of everyone’s demands. His work was relentless, the pressure from his team to deliver perfection was unending, and somewhere along the way, he started feeling less like a person and more like a machine. And in all of that, he had forgotten you were the one person who treated him like a human being. The only person who reminded him to eat, to sleep, to rest.

But last night, Jihoon saw something in your eyes he never wanted to see again—pain. He had hurt you, and the worst part was, you didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t even say a word as you left the room, walking away with that shattered expression on your face. He stood there, frozen, wanting to chase after you, to take back everything he’d said, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think straight. The weight of everything felt too much.

Jihoon ended up sleeping in his home studio that night, staring blankly at his laptop screen, his mind racing with regret. He didn’t get any work done. How could he? All he could think about was the way you looked at him, the way your lips trembled like you were fighting back tears, the way you didn’t even argue because you were too hurt to speak. He hated himself for it.

The guilt gnawed at him all night, so by the time morning came, he couldn’t bear to be in the same house. He thought if he went to the company studio, if he just got out, maybe it would clear his head. Maybe he could focus on work and forget how badly he had messed up.

But he couldn’t. You were all he could think about. Even surrounded by equipment and projects, even as he tried to drown himself in work, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The regret kept replaying in his mind like a broken record, and the truth settled in his chest like a lead weight—he could never stop thinking about you. He never could.

And now, sitting alone in the company studio, he could still see your face in his mind, the hurt he had caused, and it tore him apart.

"Jihoon…" His manager knocked on the door, pulling Jihoon from his deep focus. He turned his head toward the reflection in the glass and saw someone entering. Quickly, he put down his headphones.

"The bank called me," his manager said, concern lacing his voice. "Someone's been making a lot of purchases with your account, and they couldn’t reach you. So, I got worried."

Jihoon blinked, realization dawning as he remembered he had turned off his phone earlier to avoid distractions. He hurriedly switched it back on, and as expected, notifications flooded his screen. Among them were a surprising number of texts from you.

Curious, Jihoon opened your messages, and his eyes widened. You had sent him a series of photos—shopping bags piled high, receipts for luxury items, and then… a car. You bought a car?

Jihoon sighed, rubbing his temples as he scrolled through the notifications of credit charges—clothes, electronics, and more. Why did you decide to buy all of this in one day?

"Everything’s fine. It’s just… my wife," Jihoon said, a little embarrassed as he reassured his manager. "No one’s using my card without permission."

His manager chuckled, seeming relieved, before leaving Jihoon alone with his thoughts.

Just as Jihoon exhaled, another text popped up. A photo of you in a jacuzzi, clearly in some luxurious hotel, wearing a brand new red bikini. The caption that followed made Jihoon’s breath hitch.

You: Want to give me the life I want? Come here. Turns out, spending your money doesn’t satisfy me enough.

Jihoon sighed deeply, his face growing warm as he hurriedly turned off everything in his studio. It was no use—he’d have to go get his black card back from you. Or maybe get something else.

*

You feel the dash of cold air hit your skin as you lay back against the heated tiles of the jacuzzi, legs lazily draped over the edge. You can’t help the little smirk pulling at your lips as you scroll through Jihoon’s texts. He’s gonna kill you. Well, maybe not kill, but he’ll definitely be pissed off. The shopping spree, the car, the photos—God, you knew exactly what you were doing. Pressing his buttons like that, getting him riled up on purpose, all because he had the audacity to shout at you last night.

But, you’re done with his bullshit excuses. He can whine about deadlines and stress all he wants, but you’re not here for that. You’re here for him, and clearly, he needs a little reminder.

The door to the hotel room opens, and even with the sound of the jacuzzi jets bubbling, you hear it. He’s here. Your heart skips a beat as the familiar, steady thud of Jihoon’s shoes echo in the space. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel the burden of his stare on you, heavy and unrelenting. His presence is like a storm, silent but brewing.

You stretch your arms above your head, not even looking up, knowing full well he’s staring.

“Took you long enough,” You hum, voice saturated by fake innocence, like you hadn’t been the one who set the whole thing in motion. “figured you’d be quicker if i spent a little more of your money.”

Silence.

Then, the sound of him setting something down—his keys? maybe his bag? You don’t care. You hear the shuffle of his shoes being kicked off, and that’s when you finally open your eyes.

Jihoon stands at the edge of the jacuzzi, arms crossed, jaw tight, his eyes dreary and locked onto you.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he finally speaks, voice low, a growl almost. “what do you think you’re doing?”

You shrug, acting like you don’t feel the tension. “Just giving myself a little treat. After all, i am your wife. Don’t i deserve the best?”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a moment longer before his hands move to his belt. Your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just spend my money, send me those pictures, and i’ll come running?”

“Well, you did come running…” You mumble as if you were talking to yourself.

Jihoon moves, and before you know it, he’s crouched beside the jacuzzi, fingers hooking into the strap of your bikini top, pulling you closer to him with little resistance. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice rough, “this is the last thing you’ll be wearing tonight.”

Before you can even form a reply, he tugs at the fabric, and the red bikini snaps, tearing with a sharp rip.

Jihoon stands back up, the smirk on his face teasing you in a way that gets under your skin. His hand casually tosses the torn bikini top aside like it’s nothing, he looks at you, riling you up on purpose. He doesn’t rush; he takes his time pulling off his shirt, his pants.

You narrow your eyes, trying to keep the annoyance in check, but he’s pushing your buttons. “Really?” you ask. “You had to rip it off just to mess with me? You’re such an asshole”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, taking a step closer until he's right in front of you again. He leans down, pushing you back into the jacuzzi, the water sloshing as your back hits the edge. “You look mad, but I bet you’re dripping right now.”

You can even think of a response, his hand slips into your bikini bottoms just as he sits down. His fingers brush lightly over your clit, not applying pressure, just teasing, circling it slow just to watch you squirm. You twitch under his touch, your legs parting on instinct, hips bucking just slightly. He’s not giving you enough, and he knows it.

“You like to play these games, baby?” he murmurs. “Teasing me, spending all my money. What’s the real reason, huh? Just wanted my attention this bad?”

You bite back a moan, refusing to let him win so easily. “Shut up,” you manage to grit out, but the breathlessness in your voice betrays you. His thumb starts rubbing a little harder, making the bud throb on his thumb. You feel your body arching toward him, a needy moan escaping despite yourself.

“No...” he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I wanna hear you say it. You knew I’d come running, right?”

His fingers press harder now, slipping lower, teasing your entrance without pushing in. Your hands grip the edge of the tub, eyes rolling back slightly as he continues torturing you.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you hiss, your words catching in your throat as his fingers pick up the tempo. He’s still circling, still rubbing, but it’s not nearly enough. You need more, and he knows it.

“Oh, I’m annoying?” he growls softly, leaning his weight into you, fingers pressing harder, deeper, but still not giving you what you need. “What’s annoying is you buying cars and booking hotels like you don’t already have everything you want right here.”

Your legs spread wider, hips instinctively grinding down against Jihoon’s fingers as they tease your entrance. Your hand shoots up to grip his wrist, trying to gude his fingers in, but he stills the arm, cupping you. His other hand trails up your chest, stopping to toy with your nipples, flicking and squeezing them just enough to make you gasp. Then, wetting the valley of your breasts, his hand moves to your throat, wrapping around it in a firm grip, pushing your head back until it rests on the cold border of the jacuzzi.

“You’re so needy,” Jihoon mutters, watching as your mouth falls open, eyes half-lidded, breath coming out in shallow pants. You feel his thumb graze over your bottom lip, smirking as if he’s amused by just how desperate you’ve become. He hasn’t even given you what you want yet, but you’re already a mess for him.

Finally, his fingers push inside, just one at first, but the way your body responds—instantly clenching, your pussy practically swallowing his finger whole—makes him groan low in his throat. The water ripples around the two of you, splashing lightly against your skin as his movements grow rougher.

“God, you’re soaked,” he chuckles, voice almost mocking as his finger curls inside you, hitting that sweet spot making your hips jerk by their own. Even with the water swirling around, Jihoon can feel the heat between your thighs, the sticky slickness of your folds clinging to his fingers as he slides in another.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn't let up. Instead, his fingers work you harder, pumping in and out of you making the water splash with every push. The sound is obscene, the wet slaps of his fingers echoing in the room, blending with your suffered moans, and Jihoon's grunts.

You lift your gaze to him, lips parted, eyes pleading, practically begging for more. You look up at Jihoon with a needy expression that you know drives him crazy. But he just grins, slowing his movements slightly, his hand tightening around your throat.

“Aww, look at you,” he coos, voice soft despite the way his fingers are fucking into you hard, relentless. “Such a pretty little mess. You like this, don’t you? Me ruining you with just my fingers?”

You can’t form words, your head tilting back more as his pace quickens again, fingers curling deep, hitting the spongy spot that makes your vision blur. The water splashes harder now, droplets spilling over the edge of the tub as your hips buck in time with his thrusts. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking, and all you can manage is a soft whimper, your entire body arching toward him.

Jihoon chuckles again, watching you fall apart beneath him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, fingers pumping in and out faster, thumb rubbing over your clit in quick circles. “You’re so fucking tight… taking it so well. What do you want, huh? You want more?”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words making your body ache. You nod frantically, too overwhelmed to say anything. The hand around your throat loosens slightly, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t stop. His fingers continue their brutal pace, fucking you deep, and you know he’s not stopping until you cum around his long fingers.

You feel your stomach flip when Jihoon curls his fingers and stills them, making your body arch off the jacuzzi edge as you instinctively reach for him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is brutish, dirty—his lips smashing into yours, teeth clashing as his tongue slips into your mouth. He sucks your tongue hard, biting down on your bottom lip in that way that always makes your legs tremble. You can’t focus, the pleasure building too fast, making it impossible to keep up with the kiss. But you try, you desperately try, your hands clutching tighter in his hair.

It’s only a matter of seconds before your body betrays you. You moan into his mouth, the sound low and drawn out, muffled by the kiss. You pull him closer, your grip tightening painfully in his hair as the pleasure crests, your body trembling as your back arches impossibly high.

Your nipples graze his chest, the sensation of your sensitive skin brushing against his, makes him shiver, his breath hitching as your slick cunt clenches hard around his fingers.

Your moans become more frantic, desperate, and you can’t keep kissing him anymore. Your mouth falls open, head tilting back as you gasp for air, your body seizing up with the strength of your orgasm.

Your pussy tightens around his fingers, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum, the water splashing violently around you from the press of your movements. Jihoon smirks down at you, clearly proud of himself, fingers still thrusting into you even as you come down from your high. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice soft but teasing. “Cum all over my fingers.”

Your mind is still swimming in the hangovers of your orgasm when Jihoon suddenly pulls his hand away. You’re left panting, trying to catch your breath, but he’s already manhandling you, turning you around and pressing you into the edge of the tub.

“Get on all fours,” he orders. You don’t hesitate, your body moving on autopilot as you shift into position, knees pressing into jacuzzi, hands bracing yourself against the edge.

Jihoon’s grip is firm as he presses you down, making sure you don’t slip on the slick surface. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady while he strokes himself behind you. You glance back, seeing him gripping his cock, pumping himself slowly, the tip flushed red and dripping with pre-cum, some veins popping up when he cuts the blood circulation. The sight makes your mouth water.

He lines himself up with you, the head of his cock teasing your wet pussy, but he doesn’t push in just yet. Instead, he grabs your bikini bottom—what’s left of it anyway—and yanks it harshly to the side, exposing your swollen, sensitive folds. You feel the fabric digging into your skin, tight and uncomfortable.

Jihoon watches, mesmerized, as your pussy clenches around nothing, your body still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Slowly Jihoon pushes inside. He takes his time, savoring the way your walls squeeze around him, they way you slick starts to coat him too, your body struggling to accommodate his size. You whimper, fingers clawing at the edge of the tub, trying to keep yourself stable as he fills you inch by inch.

He moans deep in his throat, the sound oscillating through his chest as he bottoms out, his cock buried fully inside you.

You bite your lip, arching your back even more, desperate to take him deeper. “Jihoon… please…”

But he just chuckles darkly, pulling out slowly, only to slam back in, making the water splash around you both again. “Oh, you’ll get what you want,” he promises. “Just keep taking it like that.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. The sharp pull has you arching back, your spine curving as he yanks you up against his chest, your back pressing flush against his front. The new angle makes his cock hit even deeper, your breath hitching as the tip grazes that swollen spot inside you.

Jihoon glances at the nearby mirror, his eyes glued to the reflection of your bodies. Your tits bounce with every thrust, soft and flushed, his eyes darken, watching the way your skin sticks to his, the way your body—though trembling—melts against him, sacrificing to the pleasure despite every nerve in your body wanting to tense up.

He moans suffered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, feeling the warmness radiating off your skin. You’re burning up, both of you are, your bodies slick with sweat despite being submerged in water seconds after. Jihoon can’t help but bury his face against your neck, breathing you in, skin to skin, letting the sensation take over him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin, almost as if he's talking to himself. “I missed this. Missed you.”

His hips don’t stop, driving into you harder, your thighs shaking as you try to keep up, but your body is already on the edge. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your head falling back against his shoulder, mouth falling open as breathless moans slip out with every thrust.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon suddenly murmurs, his voice softer now, tender. He keeps thrusting into you, but there’s an apology laced in every word, every snap of his hips. “I’m so fucking sorry… for everything.”

You don’t answer, can’t even if you wanted to. Your breath is caught in your throat, the only response you give is the way your body clings to his, melting further into his hold as his hands roam down your body.

He doesn’t expect you to answer. Maybe he doesn’t even need you to. He just keeps going, fucking into you like he’s trying to apologize through the way his body moves against yours. His grip loosens in your hair, his hand sliding down the curve of your waist, lower, until his fingers find the puffy bundle of nerves between your legs.

The second his fingers brush over your clit, your whole body tenses again, only to relax almost instantly as he starts rubbing teasing circles. You whimper, legs trembling, hardly competent to hold yourself up, and Jihoon groans into your skin, feeling the way you melt even more against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his voice raspy in your ear. “Always take me so well… fuck… so tight, baby… you feel that? You’re clenching around me.”

You don’t say anything, just a soft gasp escapes your lips, your head falling back further onto his shoulder, exposing the column of your throat to him. His fingers quicken their pace, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, every brush of his thumb over your swollen clit making you cry out.

“I know I fucked up,” Jihoon whispers, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can’t stop… I can’t stop thinking about you. About this. About how good you feel around me.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as his hand continues working you, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tighter, anchoring you to him. His fingers press harder against your clit, drawing tight circles that make your whole body twitch, every nerve ending alive and buzzing.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, his voice dipping into that familiar, filthy tone, the one that drives you insane. “Cum for me… I know you’re close. I can feel it. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

You’re so close, your vision blurring as the heat in your core builds higher. Your body’s completely given in to him, to the way he’s fucking you deep and hard while his fingers expertly play with your clit, not giving you a single moment of respite.

And then it hits, hard and fast. Your back arches, body tensing as the orgasm rips through you, ripple after ripple of pleasure crashing over you as your pussy clenches tight around him. Your hands reach back, desperately grabbing at anything—his hair, his arms—trying to ground yourself as you moan out his name, breathless and trembling.

Jihoon groans at the feeling, his cock throbbing inside you as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck… that’s it,” he rasps, his hand slowing its movements on your clit, letting you ride out your high. He’s still buried deep inside you, his cock twitching, and he watches in the mirror as your body shudders against his.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he shifts you forward, placing you on all fours again, his hands steadying you as he lines himself up once more. His hand slides down to your ass, pushing your bikini bottom further to the side so he can watch as your tight puffy walls flutter around him.

Without delay, he starts thrusting again, his pace slow but deep, watching as your body tenses, clenching around him every time he sinks in.

Jihoon lets out a series of the neediest, whiniest moans you've ever heard from him, and it hits you differently—vulnerable, like you’ve broken through every layer he keeps guarded.

Then he sinks in fully and stops.

You slouch forward, your whole body going limp as you brace yourself on your forearms. You feel him pressed against your back, the warmth of his skin sticking to yours as his breath hitches in your ear.

And then it fills you—heat as his cum spurts deep inside you. Hot, thick, and it has you crying out, your voice breaking as your body quakes beneath him. You can feel every pulse of his cock as he fills you up, making your insides feel impossibly full.

Your back trembles under his weight, every muscle in your body quivering as his release continues to flood you. Your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, trying to milk every last drop from him, and it only makes him groan louder.

“Shit,” Jihoon breathes, his voice a wrecked, breathy mess as he leans forward, his forehead pressing into the back of your neck. His hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s using you to anchor himself through the intensity of his orgasm. “Fuck… you feel s'good.”

Your head drops onto your forearm, unable to do anything but take it all in. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a warm, slick sensation as it mixes with the water around your thighs. Your legs are shaking, your core aching, but you don’t want him to pull out, you want to stay like this, to feel him deep inside you just a little longer.

Jihoon’s breathing finally starts to slow, his body still pressed flush against yours as his arms snake around your waist, holding you tight. You hum softly in response, his cum continues to spill out, and you can feel every slow drip as your pussy flutters, trying to recover from the relentless pounding he just gave you.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to glance down at the sight of your trembling back. A soft smirk tugs at his lips as he watches how your body reacts to him, still sensitive, still on edge. “Look at you,” he whispers, his tone soft but teasing. “You’re still shaking. Did I fuck you that good?”

You don’t answer him; just let out a shaky breath. Your body is completely spent, and you can narrowly keep yourself upright. Jihoon chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your damp skin before pulling out slowly, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty and aching. The last bit of his cum leaks out of you as he does, and he watches, fascinated, as it mixes with the water beneath you.

He moves to your side, pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back as you both come down from the high.

Jihoon gently lifted you from the jacuzzi, his hands steady as he wrapped a robe around your body, drying you with care. His touch was soft, and the tension between you started to ease with each moment. He laid you down on the bed with tenderness, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and regret.

As he stepped away to quickly clean himself up, you could feel the weight of his emotions lingering in the air. When he returned, Jihoon slid into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his warmth pressing against your skin. His embrace was tight but comforting, as though he was trying to hold on to more than just the moment.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was barely above a whisper, yet the sincerity in it was undeniable. He rested his forehead gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. "Please forgive me."

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, a side of Jihoon that he rarely showed.

You lay there in his arms, feeling the tension in his body slowly release as he held you close. His apology lingered in the air, filled with emotion you hadn’t heard from him before. For a moment, everything was quiet—the warmth of his skin, the sound of your breathing, and the beating of his heart against yours.

Jihoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness. His brows furrowed, and he seemed almost afraid of what you might say. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, the familiar sensation calming you both.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you whispered, the weight of the past argument starting to lift. “But it’s hard sometimes, Jihoon. You get so lost in your work…”

He nodded, the regret still heavy in his gaze. "I know. I promise I'll do better. I can't stand the thought of losing you, or pushing you away."

His words tugged at your heart, and you could see how much he meant it. There had always been that side of him—driven, focused, and dedicated—but sometimes it made him forget everything else. Still, here he was, trying, apologizing, and making the effort to put you first.

Without saying anything, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. Jihoon sighed against your mouth, relief and gratitude flooding through him as he deepened the kiss, his arms tightening around you as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads touched again, both of you breathing a little more steadily now.

“I forgive you,” you said softly. His eyes brightened at your words, and you felt the tension finally melt away completely. Jihoon smiled, a rare, gentle one that you didn’t see often enough, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling you closer again, as though he couldn’t get enough of having you in his arms.

*

Jihoon sighed deeply as he glanced around your living room, cluttered with bags and boxes of things you'd bought earlier that day. His eyes scanned the array of items before he asked, half-jokingly, “Is it even possible to empty my bank account in a single day?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you tried to ease his worry. “Don’t stress. I can sell them all on the marketplace. They’ll be gone in two days, tops. I promise.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow and picked up one item that particularly caught his attention—a pair of leopard-printed underwear for men. He held it up with a bemused expression, “Leopard print... for me?”

You grinned mischievously, “Yup! Oh, and I got you the hot pink one, too. Thought you’d look great in it.”

Jihoon groaned, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You know it was a joke when everyone said i wear these kind of panties, right? There’s no way I’d ever wear these.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer with a playful smirk on your face. “Oh, I can make you wear them,” you teased, your tone light but daring.

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your grin widening. “I have my ways. Just wait until you see how good you look in them.”

He rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

You stepped even closer, standing on your toes to whisper in his ear, “You’ll thank me later.”

Jihoon’s laughter filled the room as he pulled you into a hug, shaking his head. “You never give up, do you?”

“Never,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. "And trust me, you’ll look amazing in leopard print."

With a defeated sigh, Jihoon gave you one more playful glare, “Fine. But don’t think this means I’m wearing the hot pink ones too.”

“We’ll see about that,” you replied, your voice full of challenge and laughter as you leaned into his embrace.

[setmeatopthepyre]

Third Act [ now also on Ao3]

They've just evacuated the last of the factory workers when Incident Command calls for total evacuation. Structural integrity can no longer be guaranteed, everybody out. Eddie, who has their patient's other arm draped over his shoulders as they help the man limp to the nearest ambulance, grins at Buck. "Now that's what I call perfect timing."

"Yeah," Buck agrees, maybe a beat too slow, distracted by the number on the turnouts that just darted past them. The name under the 217 started with the wrong letter, the person's shoulders too narrow, height not quite right. Not that he's looking. Not that he's been looking. Not that it would matter if he was. With the enormity of the factory and the spread of the fire they have on their hands, the chances of running into a particular individual are small. Besides, if he's here, he's more than likely at the other end of the staging area, with the helicopters that are being refueled and awaiting instruction. Not that Buck's been looking. Or paying attention to any of that. At all.

They've just handed over their patient to the paramedics when their radios crackle to life once more, this time to confirm that all first responders who had entered the building are safe and accounted for.

"Thank God."

Buck turns to find Bobby has come up behind them, has clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder, a relieved smile lighting up his face under his helmet. And. Yeah. Buck smiles with him, feels terrible for a moment for being so preoccupied when he should just be damn grateful for how their day - night, now - has panned out. Despite the enormous structure, despite how fast the fire spread, despite the upgrade from a three to a four alarm fire when it became incredibly clear the building was not up to code, despite the flammable materials housed in the far end of the structure, (despite the whir of helicopter blades overhead reminding Buck of him, despite the way he had to force himself not to stop and listen when a headcount for the 217 went out over the radio) they got everyone out alive. Some of the factory workers were in critical condition, others would be touch-and-go for a while, but they got them out alive and that was all any of them could ask for.

Perhaps it was too big an ask.

There had been a few moments in Buck's life in which he'd wondered if the universe had it out for him, was just waiting for him to be happy, let down his guard a little, so that it could pull the rug out from under him and send him sprawling. Choking on breadsticks on Valentine's Day. Choking on blood at his own welcome back party. Choking on his own nickname in his own loft as. As he walked out the door.

It feels like he's choking again. Buck watches the faces around him fall when dispatch tells them they were wrong, that there's still two people inside, on the top floor. When the IC responds that there's nothing to be done, the lower floors are ready to cave in, it's too unsafe. When a familiar voice crackles over the radio, saying there's a chance, if they land a helicopter on the roof, get the last two people out from there. That he'll do it.

"Absolutely not, firefighter pilot Kinard. That roof is ready to go any minute now, and you want to land a bird on it? That's a suicide mission. Stand down, that's an order."

There's a static crackle, as if someone, as if he, is weighing his options before he speaks. Buck doesn't breathe. Doesn't think he could if he wanted to.

"If there's any chance they can be saved, I have to try."

And Bobby meets his eyes, still tries, "Buck-", but they both know there's no version of this moment in which Buck doesn't grimace apologetically, doesn't turn, doesn't run faster than he's ever ran before.

He's gone, long strides, lungs burning, everyone and everything he passes a blur. He bumps into someone, yells "Sorry!", he thinks, isn't actually sure that's what he does, eyes set on the rotor blades looming dark against the orange cast of the fire in the distance. It's hard to tell if they're moving, what with how the light shifts in the dark, what with how his vision has become narrowed to that single point, and the dull roar in his ears could be his own blood pounding, could be the commotion that comes with a scene like this, could the be panic rising like bile in his throat.

For one insane moment, he thinks he can hear the sweeping crescendo of an orchestra, thinks, hysterically, like sprinting through an airport in the third act of a romcom. Thinks, I should tell Tommy. Realizes what he's hearing is that dull roar shifting into the high whine of rotor blades gaining momentum and thinks, Oh, god, Tommy. And then, in a blink, he's fighting the dust in his eyes and being buffeted by wind and his hands find purchase on the titanium hull and he's hauling himself inside.

With the wind gone, it's like he's suspended in stillness for a moment. Stillness, not silence, because helicopters are loud and the sound is everywhere, like a physical sensation. Or maybe that's just how it feels to be in close proximity with Tommy again. Tommy, who is staring straight ahead, punching buttons, flipping a switch, and Buck isn't sure Tommy's even aware of his presence until Tommy's reaching back, headset in hand, not looking at him at all, gaze still firmly on the dashboard.

Even when Buck has the headset on, the roar of the engine finally dropping away, Tommy doesn't acknowledge him immediately. The set of his shoulders is stiff, determined, defensive. He lets out a sigh. "What are you doing here, Buck?"

Buck carefully ignores the name, ignores the way Tommy still can't look at him. Squares his shoulders, even if Tommy can't see it. "I'm going with you."

There is a moment in which Tommy doesn't respond, simply finishes the last of his pre-flight checks. When he speaks, his voice is carefully deadpan. "You know we're probably going to die out there."

Buck can't help it, shoots back before he can think about it. "Figured this way I can prove I want you to be my last."

It works. Finally, Tommy turns. Meets his eyes. Breathes out. "Evan."

And Buck knows it's a ridiculous moment to smile, but it's like a weight falls away from him and he can feel his chest expand in a way it hasn't been able to since "See you around, Buck."

"Like you said," he amends. "If there's a chance at all, I have to try."

Buck doesn't think he's imagining the spark of hope in Tommy's eyes, the twitch of a smile, before Tommy turns back to his controls and the ground falls away beneath them.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i was wondering if you could write a poly jily and reader where jily makes sure christmas is absolutely amazing for reader? i’ve never been a fan of christmas bc of personal experiences and i feel like jily would be so into Christmas and spread the joy.

I hope this is what you're looking for! Don't mind the sappiness <3

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

James and Lily have sweet-talked you into wearing an apron. With red hearts and lipstick marks printed all over it, it could belong to either one of them; your partners both tend to don aprons anytime they’re cooking or baking, and they each have their own small collection. Sometimes, you suspect this has less to do with concern for their clothes and more to do with the fact that they simply like wearing them. You’ve caught James wearing his Kiss the Cook apron while making scrambled eggs once. 

This time, you have to admit, the aprons are probably necessary. 

“James,” Lily chides, “our roof can’t support all that weight.” 

James makes a derisive noise, situating another gumdrop on his side of the roof. “It’s a rather shoddily made roof then, isn’t it?” 

“It’s made of biscuit,” you point out. “Not generally considered the sturdiest building material, I don’t think.” 

You and Lily are sharing one side of your gingerbread house, James’ decorating frenzy too chaotic for either of you to try adding anything to the other portion. It is looking quite beautiful, with candy canes poking out of the chimney, intricate frosting trim on the windows, and now a gumdrop-tiled roof, but your overeager boyfriend seems to have forgotten to account for the structural integrity of the house. 

“What if we just lined the roof with gumdrops?” Lily suggests gently. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “or we could set them on the base, they could be bushes or something.” 

James frowns. “You two are squashing my creativity. Next thing I know you’ll be putting me back on icicle duty.” 

Lily bites her lip, venturing a look at you. 

“You are the best at it…” you say guiltily. “What if you did that for a while, just until we catch up? That way we can make sure the roof holds everything before we add more.” 

James scoffs, but his glare is good-natured. “Tyrants,” he says, picking up the bag of icing again. You lean over to kiss his cheek in apology. 

James really is excellent with the icicles. He makes perfect icing drips all along the edge of your roof, varied in size and shape, while Lily decorates your side of the roof and you work on making a welcoming front door. 

As the holiday season approached, you sort of dreaded celebrating with James and Lily. You love them, of course, but they’re both so festive; and while that’s great for them, you weren’t eager to be dragged into their Christmas cheer—or, more accurately, to drag their Christmas cheer down with you. You’re just not much for Christmas these days. All the films bring back memories you’d rather forget, the pressure of gift giving overwhelms you, and the foods leave a bad taste in your mouth. So while you weren’t necessarily resistant to their suggestions of holiday fun, you made your reluctance known. But you have to admit this is sort of fun. 

The radio plays in the next room, the local station running only Christmas music now that it’s well and truly December. No one looking outside could deny it. A powdery dusting of snow covers the grass outside and icicles dangle from above your kitchen window like you’re looking out from inside the very house James is decorating now. 

He bends over as he works, a concentrated squint about his eyes and glasses slipping slowly down the bump of his nose. His apron is his favorite one, already smeared with a seemingly impossible amount of red and white icing: Santa’s sleigh led by a stag instead of Rudolph. Lily embroidered it for him as a gift two Christmasses ago. Your girlfriend’s apron is simpler, a bright red that makes her hair look more orange by contrast and brings out her slight flush. The apples of Lily’s cheeks shine in the light of the kitchen, the side of her nose smeared with a white streak of icing you and James have silently agreed not to mention until the opportune moment. 

“This is nice,” you say, softly. You’re wary of getting your partners’ hopes up, but you want to express some gratitude for all they’re doing to make your Christmas a happy one. 

“For you, sure,” James grumbles. “I’m stuck on icicles.” But his put-upon pique gives way quickly, warm lips pressing to your cheek. “Glad you’re having fun.” 

Lily’s smiling, too. “If you really like it, we could do more sometime. Maybe make a little village.” 

“Spare some time for the rest of the activities,” James objects. “We haven’t even had a chance to go ice skating yet, and at this rate all the best spots will have melted before we do. Not,” he says, turning somewhat contrite as he looks at you, “that we couldn’t use the time for more gingerbread houses if you wanted to, lovie.” 

You laugh, squeezing Lily’s elbow in silent thanks for the look she’d send James on your behalf. “That’s okay,” you say. “We can do different things.” 

“Oh, good.” James looks relieved. “Because there’s still the lights to put up outside, and a party to plan, and we’ve only so many days left in the year, girls.” 

“James!” Lily’s expression pinches with horror as one side of the roof, which James had sneakily resumed work on, begins sliding off the top of the house. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” He holds it up desperately. You rush to help, you keeping the slat in place while he tries to glue it back on with icing. “We’ve got it, darling, don’t worry.” 

“Don’t bring her into your mistake,” Lily laughs, still looking shocked as she watches the roof slip in your hold. “I told you what would happen if you kept putting those gumdrops on there! They’re too heavy.” 

“Alright, that’s it.” James lets go of the roof. Hesitantly, you follow his lead, letting the whole thing slide down the side of the house. James advances on your girlfriend, grin poorly repressed. “I’ve had just about enough of your criticisms.” 

“I wouldn’t be criticizing if you were doing it right!” Lily has the good sense to dodge your boyfriend, but James is faster, catching her by her arms and tugging her close. 

Lily makes a quiet squeak as James holds her face in his strong hands, keeping her still while he kisses the icing off her nose. She can’t help giggling, now, begrudgingly in love, her hands winding around his neck. You laugh, too, watching them. 

James keeps one hand on her face to point the other at you. “Laugh all you want, but you’re next,” he promises. 

You can’t find it in yourself to dread the threat. 

[astra-ravana]

Working With Multiple Spirits

Working with multiple deities, spirits, and demons requires balance, respect, and a structured approach to avoid energetic overwhelm or conflicts. Here are some key tips to help you navigate these relationships effectively.

• Establish Clear Boundaries: Just like human relationships, spiritual relationships need boundaries. Set clear rules about when, where, and how you will interact with each entity. Create designated altars or spaces to avoid energetic interference between different spirits.

• Research and Understand Each Being: Study their history, mythology, and traditional associations. Understand their preferred offerings, symbols, and correspondences. Learn about any rivalries or incompatibilities among spirits (e.g., some deities may not work well together).

• Develop Personal Relationships: Treat each entity as an individual with unique needs and expectations. Spend time meditating or communicating with each being separately to establish a personal connection. Keep a spiritual journal to record messages, insights, or omens received.

• Create Separate Altars or Sacred Spaces: If working with conflicting energies (e.g., angels and demons, war deities and peace deities), keep their altars separate. Dedicate specific tools or candles for each being to prevent energy blending.

• Use Offerings Wisely: Give appropriate offerings that align with the spirit’s nature (e.g., alcohol for some spirits, flowers for others). Avoid giving offerings that may offend one entity while pleasing another. Regularly refresh and properly dispose of offerings.

• Maintain Energy Balance: Work with grounding and protection practices (e.g., meditation, carrying Black Tourmaline, salt baths). Avoid taking on too many spiritual obligations at once. Learn to recognize signs of spiritual burnout or interference (e.g., nightmares, energy drains, confusion).

• Communicate Respectfully: Approach spirits with sincerity and politeness, rather than entitlement. Avoid demanding or coercing them—relationships should be built on mutual respect. If an entity stops responding or becomes hostile, reassess the dynamic and make adjustments.

• Keep Your Word: If you make an agreement with a spirit (such as a pact, vow, or dedication), honor it. If you can’t fulfill a promise, communicate and offer an alternative. Breaking spiritual commitments carelessly can lead to negative consequences.

• Protect Yourself Spiritually: Always shield yourself before spirit work (e.g., visualization techniques, protective sigils, wearing amulets). Regularly cleanse your energy and space (smudging, sound cleansing, moonlight, or sacred water). Learn banishing techniques in case an entity overstays its welcome.

• Know When to Take a Break: If you feel drained, confused, or overwhelmed, step back and ground yourself. Not every spirit needs to be worked with at once—prioritize quality over quantity. Take time to integrate lessons before moving forward with new relationships.

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter Two

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Miguel grumbled, furiously trying to rub away the oncoming headache as the newly updated Spider-Gang continued to berate him. Jessica only leaned forward on her motorcycle, smirking at the sight of his towering figure surrounded by teenagers.

Gwen prodded him with a pointed finger, “What the hell, Miguel! I can’t believe you-”

“We trusted you and-”

“So what now you’re just on our side like some-” 

Miles’s palms sparked threateningly, “You were going to let my Dad die!”

“Hold the baby, Migs.” Peter tried in vain to shove a babbling Mayday into his hands, “She’s going to make you feel so much better.”

“You and I are gonna have some serious fisticuffs you turtle-”

“You let the power get to your head like some capitalistic-”

Peni’s robot chittered angrily.

“Ok, ok, OK!” Miguel yelled, “Everyone just QUIET!” Turning on his heels so that his broad shoulders blocked out the skyline, he began to mutter, “Dios mío. ¿Qué estoy haciendo? Estos niños me van a matar. Mierda.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth.

“I messed up.” he murmured under his breath.

Hobie propped himself up against his guitar, “Sorry bruv, don’t think I heard you ri-”

“I MESSED UP!” Miguel shouted, throwing his hands up in his air. Everyone except Hobie and Miles took a step back. This was the closest thing to an apology any of them could hope to get, and far more than they were expecting to hear from him. “Now in case you’ve forgotten, we still have an imminent multiversal collapse on our hands!” 

“Very imminent,” Lyla said, floating on her back and propping her holographic feet up on Miguel’s shoulder.

Miles stepped forward in the silence, all eyes on him. 

He still had to tilt his head up to meet Miguel’s eyes, but he didn’t feel small. No. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t weak. He was Spider-Man, and together they were going to fix this.

“I still don’t like you but,” he stuck out his hand, “Welcome to the Spider-Gang, Miguel.” 

>>>

“Lyla, take a scan of the-” Gwen spun out of a wormhole, crashing into his side.

“Sorry!” A web shot out of her wrist, pulling her towards the skylight as Miles flipped across the room in a red and black blur.

“Spot, please!” Miles’s voice bounced around the room, sound waves rippling out from a hundred spots at once, “You don’t have to do this.”

Lyla flickered to life on Miguel’s shoulder, a holographic lollipop sticking out the corner of her mouth, “I’m on it!” 

Miguel caught himself on the wall, blades screeching on metal as a dozen more spots popped into existence around him. Rain pelted him from all sides, distracting him long enough for the hub of a cop car to fly out and flatten him against the wall. 

The Spot dipped in and out of the ground, basking in the remnants of the Super-Collider and swallowing up bits and pieces of metal and granite in the process. Wormholes had already started to crop up all around New York, threatening the destruction of buildings as cars and trains suddenly found themselves hundreds of feet above the ground.

“It’s a proper mess out here mates,” Hobie’s voice called out from Miguel’s watch, followed by the shattering of glass, “How much longer is this going to take?”

“I just need fifteen more minutes,” Margo said. A crash sounded in the background along with Jessica’s colorful words, “... maybe twenty.” 

“We don’t have twenty minutes,” Miguel grunted, flinging his body across the room. He strung his webs around a battered console, whipping it around and aiming it directly at the Spot. He only chuckled, lifting his hand and opening a portal. The console smashed into Miguel’s back, sending him crashing to the ground.

Lyla pulled the lollipop out of her mouth with an audible pop! “Scan of the room’s complete. You’re in luck! You’ve got about 17 minutes before the structural integrity of the building goes kaput, starting with the northwest corner.” Her finger glitched as she pointed. 

Joder.

“Guys no. I can do this.” Miles said, his voice tight with effort as he continued to jump around the room, whipping metal at the Spot to distract him long enough to swing to safety. He could make the Spot see reason. He had to.

Margo and Jessica scrambled about the control room three stories up, Margo’s virtual reality body glitching from anxiety as she threaded wires together and fumbled around on the computers in the control room. This dimension’s technology was ancient compared to hers and she was finding it hard to make the adjustment. 

“You really think that would work?” She asked Miles. They all stood side by side atop Alchemax, staring down into the remnants of the Super-Collider where the Spot floated around aimlessly in a pool of black ether. Every so often Margo was certain she could see visions of other dimensions poking through the fabric of spacetime - A baseball game, an explosion, a thousand ships cruising past a desert planet.

“He got his powers using the Super Collider,” Miles reasoned, “Absorbed dark matter energy from countless universes. Reverse the process and we might be able to send it all back to their original dimensions.”

“Leaving him powerless.” Hobie finished, shoving his hands into his jacket and nodding, “I like it.” 

“It’ll be a large scale Go-Home-Machine.” Margo murmured, nodding in understanding as the plan fell into place.

“But you gotta let me talk to him first.” Miles narrowed a pointed glare at Miguel. “Let me make him see reason. End this before it even begins.”

“Are you joking? That’s too risky.” Miguel growled out.

“This could kill him!”

“Oh come on, Miguel, give Miles a chance!” Pavitr had to balance on the tip of his toes to sling an arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “He’s Spider-Man! This will be easy for him! Use that charm and compassion and-”

“Fine.” Miguel said, shrugging Pavitr off, “We’ll try it your way.”

The Spot walked forward menacingly, noting with pride how Miles backed away, hands lifted up in front of him, “So now you want to talk?” 

“Listen, Jonathan - it’s Jonathan, right? - We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I made fun of you before. I’m sorry that I disregarded you after everything you’ve been through. But you have to understand what you’re doing. This is going to destroy everything. Everything. The universe, the multiverse, all of it. You’ve got the power to-”

“There’s no Jonathan anymore, only the Spot. You still think I’m joking don’t you? You still think we’re going to make up after a grand old speech - that you’re going to save me. Well it’s too late for that, kid.” 

He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, a portal opening to his left. Someone tumbled out wearing a paint stained Brooklyn Visions Academy sweatshirt. 

Miguel’s heart stopped beating. 

He would recognize you anywhere - in any universe.

“Y/n?” he breathed out. 

“Let’s see how good you really are, Spider-Man.” He snapped his fingers again and a portal opened up beneath your feet. The last thing you heard was the Spot's laughter as you began to fall from the sky.

“NO!” Miguel sprang into action, red laser webs flinging out to the walls as he threw himself into the air. 

“Nuh uh.” The Spot shook his finger, throwing a spot at Miguel and portaling him away, “No help! That’s cheating.” 

Miles sprinted up the walls, tracking the small dot of your figure as you flailed about wildly more than two hundred feet up, desperately trying to straighten your arms and slow your fall. The wind carried your screams away.

He dove towards a spot, arms and legs tucked in straight as an arrow after seeing your sprawling form fall past the wormhole, and re-emerged just above you. With a quick flick of the wrist he caught you, throwing out webs wildly towards the neighboring buildings in a desperate bid to slow your fall. The strands held on for as long as they could, slowing your descent before finally snapping from the tension. 

“Hold on!” He yelled over the wind as the last web broke. The voice sounded familiar. 

You both hurtled through the skeleton of a window before landing and rolling onto the floor of the one of Alchemax lab rooms, the faint smell of chlorine and formaldehyde still clinging to the air.

You pushed yourself onto your knees, prepared to kiss the solid ground beneath you.

“Miss Y/l/n?!” Miles’s jaw dropped, eyes as round as dinner plates. 

You perked your head up, momentarily forgetting your near death experience.

“Miles?!” 

“Oh crap,” he cleared his throat, dropping his voice an octave, “Um, who’s Miles?” 

“What the hell are you doing here? Do your parents know about this? Is this why you’ve been skipping classes? Who let you do this without adult supervision?!” You grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him. He was just a teenager for fuck’s sake!

“Listen, Miss Y/l/n-” Maybe it was because he was so used to unloading his thoughts in front of you that he launched into a half-baked explanation of everything that had happened, “I got bitten by a radioactive spider-” “I met all these Spiderpeople-” “-and he tried to stop me from saving my dad and-” 

Your head was spinning.

“Oh Spidermaaannnnn!” The Spot called out in a sing-song voice. “Where are you hiding, you little insect?” “I gotta go, just-” he held his hands out, “just stay here for now. Don’t move!” And just like that he was gone, leaving you more confused than ever before.

I don’t get paid enough for this. You thought, standing alone amidst the rubble.

Miguel tore through the rooms, sprinting like a madman. The reverse Super Collider was finally up and running and it was only a matter of time before the Spot would realize their plan and go berserk. The ground beneath him shook and groaned in protest as the building’s foundations began to crumble into nothing, eaten away by the dark matter that spilled out of the Spot.

“Y/N!” he roared, kicking down a door so hard it blew off its hinges.

You hopped off the bench. It seemed silly, but as a civilian caught in the middle of a multiverse-ending battle there hadn’t been anything for you to do but sit and wait for Miles to come back.

A Spider-Man variant barreled towards you, all hard cut lines of red and blue with blades protruding to his forearms that glinted in the dim light. You hadn’t made a decision about whether or not to run - whether or not it was even worth it to try - before he had you wrapped up in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder. The mask fell away like tv static to reveal a head of brown waves that smelled faintly of oranges.

“Dios mío, pensé que te perdí.” He murmured, holding you like his life depended on it. 

You stiffened under his touch before awkwardly raising a hand to pat his back. “Umm, hola. ¿Te conozco?”

Miguel froze, feeling the tension in your body. You didn’t… you didn’t know who he was. He’d just… he’d been so terrified that he’d forgotten himself - the situation they were all in. 

He took a step back, spine ram-rod straight as he suppressed the urge to hold you again. This version of you looked… different. Different, but the same. You were missing the faint scar on your temple you’d gotten from a car crash at seventeen. 

“We need to go.” he said, voice tight as he gestured to his back, “Get on and hold on tight. This building’s about to blow.”

You blinked at the sudden change in his tone, taking a moment to process what he’d just asked you. 

“You know Spider-Man?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He said, clenching his jaw. If you didn’t jump on his back in the next ten seconds he was going to chuck you over his shoulder and start running.

The floor beneath you shifted, the building’s dying breaths echoing through the halls.

Hesitantly you climbed onto his back, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as he started sprinting towards the broken window.

“Si me dejas caer, nunca te perdonaré,” you said, lips accidentally brushing against the curve of his ear. 

He shivered. “Jamás.” 

You were airborne again, feeling Miguel’s body twist and flex beneath you as he pulled you both towards the ceiling like it was as natural as breathing. When you dared to look towards the ground you gasped. The tangled frame of the Super Collider was whirring to life, crackling with energy and exploding with color as Miles spun his webs, keeping the machine together even as it threatened to rip itself apart. 

From within the cocoon of webs, dark matter, and multiversal energy, you could make out the Spot’s form warping and pulling apart, bits and pieces disappearing into the frenetic portal that the collider had split open.

Miles caught up to you both, matching Miguel’s rhythm as they flicked and swung from their webs.

“Hey again, Miss Y/l/n.” Flick. “I see you’ve met Miguel.” Flick. “I hope he hasn’t been too mean towards you.” He called out.

You felt Miguel grumble with displeasure. 

“He’s the guy that body slammed me into a moving train!” Flick. “But I beat him!” 

“Miguel did WHAT?!” 

“Right, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Listen kid, I already apologized for that.” 

“Yeah right.” Miles had to laugh. The day he heard Miguel say the words “I’m sorry” would be the day the multiverse tore apart, and that day was not today.

You slapped Miguel on the shoulder - it was like hitting stone, “¿Qué coño te pasa? He’s just a teenager!” 

“Cariño, can we please discuss this at a later time?” He gritted his teeth. Something was wrong with the collider. It was getting harder and harder to swing you both upwards, like the force of gravity had tripled. 

You froze. “What did you just call me?” 

Crap.

Miles’s eyes swung back and forth between you two like a pinball machine and the dots finally connected - the alternate universe where Miguel had a family, the way he kept looking at you, the way he’d demanded Miles tell him where you were.

“...Aren’t you his wife?” He asked dumbly.

Miguel’s face went white beneath his mask. Did the temperature go up, or was that just him? His hands felt clammy under his spider-suit.

“I’M HIS WIFE?!” 

The collider screeched beneath them and Miguel barely had time to flick his web out towards the remnant of a walkway before - 

One. 

Two.

Three. 

BOOM! 

The Spot burst out from the cocoon in a tornado of dark matter, sending debris flying backward towards the sucking mouth of the collider. The building walls buckled, drywall ripping out and sailing downward at the whim of the collider’s gravitational force.

“Spider-Man!” He bellowed, his voice grating and animalistic, “I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOU!” 

He might get torn apart and sent to a thousand different dimensions, but if he was going down, he was going to take Spider-Man with him.

“Get her out of here!” Miles yelled over the deafening roar. He pressed his body flat to the wall to keep from falling down into the collider.

“I can’t!” Miguel groaned. His hands had begun to slip down the bright red webbing. You were beginning to lose your grip as well, nails clawing into Miguel’s back.

Your legs gave way first, then your arms. 

“Y/N!” Miguel flicked a laser web out, catching you by your waist. 

“MISS Y/L/N!” 

You gasped, arms and legs splayed out to your sides as you dangled precariously over nothing. Miguel stared down at you, shoulder screaming in pain as he did everything he could to keep you both from getting sucked down. His mask disappeared, letting you see the way his red-brown eyes were blown open. Somewhere from below Miguel heard the Spot scream as he was finally torn to shreds, dark matter traveling back to their respective dimensions, but all he could focus on was you.

“Miguel,” you whispered, too scared to say anything else.

“Miguel?” You called out from the bottom of the stairs. 

Gabriella dribbled the football close, just like her father had taught her, before passing it cleanly between your legs.

“¡Túnel!” 

“¡Y la multitud se vuelve loca!” Miguel whooped, thundering down the stairs and twirling a screaming Gabriella through the air.

You fixed the collar of his sweater, kissing him hesitantly on the lips and smiling at the brightness in his eyes as he held your daughter. 

“I’ll see you at the game later,” You said, smoothing back a strand of your husband’s hair, “I love you.” You murmured, hoping to hear him say it back. It had been so long since he’d said those words to you.

“I’ll see you later.” Miguel promised, kissing you again with a smile so wide you felt his teeth against your lips. 

You knew something wasn’t quite right… he knew you knew… but neither of you could find the words to say anything about it. 

What’s happened? Why have you changed so much so quickly? Why don’t you remember things about me - about Gabriella - anymore? 

You wanted to ask those questions so badly.

But you didn’t ask, and he didn’t answer.

So he left without saying those words… and that was the day he lost you.

He wouldn’t lose you again. He wouldn’t lose you like he’d lost Gabriella.

With a roar he pulled you back to him, wrapping one arm tightly around you. You molded yourself into his side, shutting your eyes just in time for the collider to groan to a halt and then explode.

The noise alone knocked you both back, sound waves rattling your bones and pressing you further against Miguel. Golden light emitted from the collapsing collider, sinking into your skin until it felt like you were burning.

The laser web burned away and Miguel could do nothing more than wrap his body around you as you were both thrown up and through what remained of the roof. You landed on hard pressed glass, pain shooting up your side as you and Miguel tumbled in a flurry of tangled limbs. You rolled to a stop, Miguel bracing his arms so that you wouldn’t get crushed under his bulky frame. His suit glitched, unstable molecules traveling over his skin as it worked to repair any and all damage.

The collider stilled, light dimming as it sighed and breathed its last.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” He brushed your hair back, frantically scanning your body for injuries as you caught your breath. 

“I’m ok.” You gasped out, “I’m ok,” You promised, resting your hands against his chest. He felt solid and real beneath your fingertips - the most real thing you’d experienced this entire night. 

Miguel sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. You closed yours too, letting yourself enjoy this delicate moment of peace and quiet. 

“Woooow, you can really feel the romantic tension between the two of them, can’t you?”

“Shut up, Pavitr.” Gwen hissed.

Miguel’s eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of the audience of Spiderpeople that had congregated on the roof. It was at times like this that he envied the others for their spider-sense. 

He rolled lightly onto his feet, pulling you up with him and keeping one arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You found that you didn’t mind the contact at all. 

Sirens blared from every street corner, the flashing red, white, and blue lights of firefighters, policemen, and EMS overwhelming to the eye. 

Someone was missing. 

“Where’s Miles?!” You said, your heart leaping into your throat.

As if on cue he swung up through the hole in the roof, landing with a wince of pain as his right knee buckled under his weight. Patches of his singed suit were still smoking.

“Are you guys ok? I oof-'' Gwen tackled him in a hug, ripping off her mask in the process. You recognized her immediately from Miles’s drawings, but her hair was longer - wilder - than in the pictures.

“Miles,” her breath stuttered, “Oh my god, I-I thought-” 

He shushed her, rubbing her back as she helped hold him up on his injured leg.

“Hey it’s ok. It’s all good. I’m alright.”

“Aight’ bruv!” Hobie and Pavitr whooped, clapping Miles’s back. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as the others circled around Miles. Only Miguel stayed close, watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

Had you actually just experienced all of that? Had you lost your mind?

“Miss Y/l/n!” Miles noticed you shivering in the cold in your socks and pajamas. He tugged off his ruined mask, exposing the bruise that was beginning to blossom like a purple flower around his nose, “Are you alright?”

You blinked. Were you alright? You weren’t dead or seriously injured as far as you could tell. 

It is taking all my willpower not to pass out or vomit right now - was what you were thinking.

“I’ve been better,” you answered, uncrossing your arms. You took a deep, stabilizing breath and squared your shoulders. It was bad enough that you’d spent the majority of the evening flung around like a rag doll in front of your favorite student, but to do it in your pajamas? That was just embarrassing. 

“Miles, please tell me you haven’t been running around New York alone with no adult supervision fighting crime this past year.” 

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his heck. It was like being reprimanded by his own mother, “I mean… I wasn’t always doing it alone.” 

“Yeah! And he had adult supervision - at least for the beginning part of it,” you turned towards the sandy-haired Spider-Man in the pink bathrobe and matching slippers, “I was his mentor and I think I did a pretty good job, wouldn’t you say?” He punched Miles proudly on the arm.

You gawked at him. “Is that… is that a baby strapped to your chest?” 

The baby in question babbled with happiness, chubby fingers reaching out for you. 

Peter grinned, plucking the little girl out from her carrier and mussing up her wild, red curls. “This is Mayday. She’s a wonder isn’t she?” 

He thrust May into your baffled arms where she proceeded to wriggle around like a worm on a hook. 

“You-you brought a baby to a superhero fight?” 

“Sure did! And she did fantastically. Photo time!” He snapped a picture with you and May, adding as a caption “Mayday’s first time saving the multiverse.” “This is going in the scrapbook for sure.” 

“I think… I think I need to go home now.” You said once Mayday was safely crawling around her father’s chest again.

“We should all get out of here.” Miguel said, noting the cop cars beginning to crowd around the perimeter. “Lyla?” 

An orange holographic woman popped to life, hovering in the air between you and Miguel. “You called?” 

You jolted back. Lyla fluttered her fingers in a wave.

“Is it over?” he asked wearily. 

“Hmmmmm,” she flitted around the air, checking holographic screens and typing away on a computer, “Multiverse is holding steady and there’s no sign of the Spot anywhere.” 

“And the super collider?”

Lyla made a poof sound, opening her hands and wiggling her fingers, “Destroyed. No anomalies detected.” 

“Great.” Miguel, tilting his head back and breathing deeply. Lyla blinked out of existence. 

A very pregnant Spiderwoman fiddled around with her watch, opening a portal behind her and her motorbike with only a few quick taps.

Damn, is everyone having kids these days except me? The thought came forth from your muddled brain.

“Let’s get back to HQ everyone. I want full debriefs recorded and uploaded in the next hour.” 

A chorus of protests and half-veiled insults rose up.

A tall, spindly Spider-Man, dressed like a 1920s silent film detective, tipped his hat towards you before calmly adjusting the lapels of his grey coat and stepping into the portal. He was followed by a petite Asian girl driving a robot, and… a pig? You had to blink at that one.

“I hear you teach art.” Hobie said, swinging his guitar onto his back, “That’s ace. Try this out and let me know what you think, yeah?” He tossed you a haphazardly folded zine. The cover screamed out in newsprint letters: THE DECAY OF SOCIETY IN THE FACE OF COMMERCIALIZED ART-MAKING.

“See you around,” he gave a two-fingered salute and stepped back through the portal. 

You immediately felt Miguel’s absence when he brushed past you towards Miles and Gwen. He sized up the two teenagers, grabbed Miles’s wrist, and dropped a watch into his open palm.

“Gwen will teach you how to use it. Don’t make any dumb decisions.” 

“Me?” Miles snorted, “Pfffft. Never.” 

Miguel hesitated before saying, “I’ll see you around… Spider-Man.” 

He was just about to step through the portal himself when you called out his name, voice cracking. He closed his eyes, back tense. 

He didn’t want to turn around. He wanted you to ignore him and let him leave without saying goodbye because… because if he saw you again that just might ruin him. Here was another version of you - another family - that would never be his.

But when you called his name again - this time with more force - he couldn’t deny you. He turned around and stared into your eyes - the eyes of his wife… the eyes of a stranger.

He never had the chance to live a full life with that other version of you. He hadn’t been the one to take you out on the first date, he hadn’t been the one to kiss you at the altar, he hadn’t been there when Gabriella was born. No. All those memories and experiences belonged to someone else, some other version of him that he could never be. But when he looked at you he imagined for one brief moment what it would be like to try it all over again, to be a real husband to you… to be there for you from the start.

“Thank you,” you said, “For saving my life.” 

His lips tightened into a thin, almost angry line, but whether he was angry at you or himself you couldn’t tell. He gave a curt nod, stepped into his dimension, and let the portal close in front of you.

When Gwen and Miles dropped you off at your apartment, the first words out of his mouth were, “Please don’t tell my mom and dad.” 

His phone weighed like a stone in his pocket, filled to the brim with frantic text messages and missed phone calls from Rio and Jefferson.

“Miles… this isn’t-this isn’t safe for you to do. I mean you’re just a teenager.”

“I’m not just a teenager.”  

“Do you even have a driver’s license yet?” Miles shut his mouth, thinking over his next words carefully. 

“Miss Y/l/n, this world needs Spider-Man. You know it needs Spider-Man, And I’m this universe’s Spider-Man. Me. I can’t just let that go.” 

You muttered under your breath. Were you really going to encourage a fifteen year old’s vigilantism? You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, hating that he was right. The answer was yes - you really were going to encourage your student to be a superhero.

“I won’t say anything to Rio or Jefferson or anyone else. Your secret is safe with me, Miles. I swear it.” 

His shoulders drooped in relief. Without warning Miles wrapped his wiry arms around you in a tight hug, “Thank you so much. You’re the best.” 

“Don’t thank me. I haven’t even done anything yet. In fact I should be thanking you for protecting the multiverse tonight.” You said, a faint smile growing on your lips despite your best efforts. You hugged him back. “If you ever need anything, just let me know. I’m going to guess even superheroes need a little help every now and then.”

“That would be the understatement of the century.” Gwen said, balancing on the balcony railing with all the grace and poise of a ballerina. 

“We should really get going, Miles. It was nice meeting you, Miss Y/l/n.” You nearly had a heart attack when Gwen fell backwards without hesitation, catching herself in a swing from an old lamppost. 

“See you around, Miss Y/l/n,” Miles said and dove after her, adding a flourish in the form of a front flip.

“See you around, Spider-Man.” You said softly, finally escaping into your apartment and sliding the balcony door shut.

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

>>>

Sneak peek at Chapter Three (because I want you all to know what I have planned, but I've made this chapter too long):

You awoke with a start, suffocating under the heavy blankets that you’d buried yourself in last night. You’d been dreaming again about the collider. You’d been dreaming about Miguel - this time in a feverish haze that left your mind in a puddle on the floor. 

How was it possible that a stranger could occupy so much space in your mind? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d held you like you were everything and then left without saying goodbye.

Are you thinking about me too? You wondered, opening your eyes in hopes of chasing the memory of him away.

…Maybe you were still dreaming, because the last time you checked you hadn’t fallen asleep under a tree in Central Park. And even if you had, you highly doubted you could have lugged your bed frame with you all the way from Brooklyn.

Oh por el amor de Dios.

Author's note: I hope you guys are enjoying where the story is heading! To those of you who reached out and offered to help with the Spanish - thank you so much! I've been a little overwhelmed by the responses on Tumblr and haven't been good about keeping track of things, but I have a friend who will be helping me out moving forward. I'll be updating the masterlist once the next chapter is scheduled. In the meantime, have a great weekend everyone :)

[sweetheartfaist]

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[villainsapologist]

the assistant

Summary: You are Lars' assistant. He pisses you off and makes it up to you by going down on you.

Warnings/Tags: Lars Ulrich x Fem Reader, RPF, lewd language, boss/employee relations, problematic power dynamic, oral (f!receiving), fingering, 2.8k words, 18+

A/N: Requested Lars fic <3

BEEEPPP!!!!

“Oh fuck off!” You exclaim as you hurry to cross the street. The cross walk timer had just ran out before you made it across. You would have waited if you could, but you couldn’t.  

Your hands are full, as you struggle to carry all the items stacked in them. Today the band had an early studio start time which was not the norm so he was more irritating than usual, given that he had to be up and working so early.

It meant that you had to trek to the far side of town extra early today to secure his breakfast. He only likes a specific blend from a specific place and also would only accept their special menu items.

Truth be told, you don’t hate your job. It’s not extremely difficult and you get to have experiences and see places that others only get to once in a lifetime if they’re lucky. 

You mainly keep things in order for him. Book his meetings, answer calls, sort through letters and mail. When he’s working you make sure that all his food is prepared and available for him. You also run errands for him, doing whatever he needs you to do that day and also marking things off his calendar.

A huge bonus is that the pay is great. Way more than any assistant at your age and experience level is making. So even though he never says “please’ or “thank you” when you bend over backwards to make sure some last minute situation is sorted out or after you almost get ran over in the street to secure his coffee—it’s completely fine…

Eventually as enough time passed, you got more comfortable. 

— — —

The first time went like this.

“Hey, get me some water, I’m fucking parched.” He says glancing in your direction, halting his movements on the drums. You immediately spring up, not wanting to be the reason that their practice is being held up. 

When you return with the bottle he takes it from your hand, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. He doesn't even look up at you when he takes it. 

You didn’t mean to do it, it just happened. As he sips on the water and turns back to his drums, you let out a loud sigh. It was one of those sighs that was laced with annoyance. To make it worse, the words “You’re welcome, I guess” left your mouth. I mean in all fairness it had been a long day.

It was a very busy time for the band and subsequently you. So the fact that he literally addressed you as “Hey” and couldn’t even offer a measly “thank you” just kind of pushed you over the edge.

“What was that?” He questioned, now looking at you.

“Huh?” Your eyes go wide and you cringe a little. Yikes.

“Hmm” He raises an eyebrow, turning his attention back to his drum kit, not giving you a chance to respond. He picks up his sticks and starts to play again, clearly dismissing you.

Walking back to your seat, you let out a silent sigh of relief.

Although, you can’t help but snicker a bit. Suddenly you felt different. Curious. What else could you get away with? 

You have been his assistant for quite a while now and honestly you have been so integrated into the structure of his life, it would be more of a hassle for him to get rid of you than for you to just get another job.

That day marked a shift in your dynamic. 

Now you don’t wait to turn your back whenever you roll your eyes at his antics.

“You know you’ve gotten quite rude.” He points out. “You’re lucky I have no idea how the calendar works.”

“You don’t know how anything works.” You scoff.

— — —

As you finally get back to the studio—hands still full, you hear his voice in the other room.

“Took you long enough. I had to start on an empty stomach. Why don’t you want me at my best potential?” His voice is sarcastic. It’s a familiar tone that you guys use with each other. Everyone around you has definitely picked up on it.

“How is it my fault? I told you the other place was closer and they had great stuff too.” You say in your defense, handing him his food.

“Whatever.”

“Yep.”

The other guys share a knowing look. The two of you always have some bickering going on. In the beginning they never even really noticed you. 

Not that you were invisible or that they don’t care about their extended team. But they couldn’t help but notice the difference in how Lars talked about you compared to everyone else.

He’s bringing you up in conversation when you’re not there. He’s telling them things about you that have nothing to do with your work or even with him. 

“She really grinds your gears huh?” Kirk's voice is laced with irony. He looks at the other guys with a smirk. Lars doesn’t notice the mocking tone. He never does when it comes to discussing you.

— — —

As the weeks passed you guys were preparing to hit the road for a long time. Many shows, interviews, and long days were ahead.

As always you were tasked with working with their management to set up Lars’ solo press. You knew the things he hated and always had to stand your ground whenever they suggested something that you knew he wouldn’t like. You did it more for yourself actually, he became more insufferable when he had to do things he didn’t want to.

“Can we not do this one please.” You bargained with the band's PR assistant. “It’s just that he would rather do the radio interview with Kirk instead. The other host is too pushy.”

“Well we already scheduled him for it but if you want to be the one to make the calls—good luck.” She says marking something down in her notes. “And it has to be before the end of the day, or else it’s set in stone.” She offers a tight lipped smile before turning to walk away.

Great now you have to spend all this time making calls, trying—begging to make this happen. Rescheduling was the absolute worst. Something about it was so humiliating and made you feel like such a bother.

You take a deep breath. “I hate this so much.” You say before picking up the phone.

— — —

“So I have some good news. I canceled Connerty and now you can do the radio show with Kirk.” You catch him on his break as he’s about to take a bite of his sandwich.

What you expect is a “Really, that’s perfect! Thank you so much, you’re the best.” 

Instead what follows is slow pensive chewing. He takes a moment to think.

“Actually I thought about it and I want to do Connerty. His last interview was pretty good, he’s a jerk but it’s more reach. Y’know?” He says it so passively.

You don’t say anything. What can you possibly say? You stare at him blankly. 

The other day he wouldn’t stop complaining about having to do that gig. Now it’s fine because “it’s more reach”.  

“You asked me to get you out of that.” There’s not a lot of emotion in your tone.

“Yeah but you said it was a long shot to rearrange it and that you couldn't make any promises. So I've made it easier on you. No need to change anything.”

“Did you not hear me just say that I canceled Connerty?”

“Yeah but it was planned a long time ago so we can just reverse it right.” Again he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

You just spent the last couple of hours playing nice with people who clearly wanted to call you an asshole for messing up their plans and flaking on your commitment. 

“Lars, that's not happening. Sorry but Connerty is over. It's radio show now.” You state definitively before walking out.

“Excuse me? Get back here.” Ignoring his call, you just shake your head and keep walking.

— — —

“Lars Ulrich everybody!” The crowd offers applause as Lars finishes up his interview with none other than the infamous late night host John Connerty.

Yep. Unfortunately and doubly humiliating for you—you had no choice but to rebook the interview you previously canceled and then cancel the one you booked, which you had to squeeze him into in the first place. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“Is this serious, you do know this is a professional business right? No one has time for this.” 

“Fucks sake!”

Those were just some of the remarks sent your way as you tried to sort things out.

— — —

“That was a great show right. Although I see why I wanted to cancel in the first place. He’s kind of a dick right?” Lars carries on about his interview. “The audience was great but remind me never to go on that show again.” 

“Yeah he’s the dick. Takes one to know one I guess.” Your mood had taken a nosedive ever since this entire debacle had started. So you really weren’t in the mood. He always does stuff like this. It’s so annoying.

You came up to his room to deliver his dry cleaning. Today was a rest day so the guys got a little break. 

“Did you just call me a dick?” He questions in disbelief. His eyebrows shot up, but you can tell he wasn’t being serious. By now he had gotten used to your digs. It’s part of your dynamic.

However, today you weren’t on the same wavelength. You were genuinely put off by his attitude about the whole thing. It reeked of entitlement and a lack of respect for your efforts and hard work.

He senses the way you don’t come back with something slick. The usual snarky remark that he loved to get out of you. 

But this time was different.

“Do you need anything else?” It’s cold and straightforward. No hint of amusement.

A confused look crosses his face. “Hey, what’s up with you? Did you even try to have a good day today?”

“Prick! I know you don’t care about my feelings or whatever but I do everything I’m supposed to do AND more.” 

You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so deeply. Why has this gotten you so pissed off? 

Lars was never a terrible boss. Yes, you two have a certain dynamic that may seem like you never get along. But it isn’t true. The energy that flows between the two of you is in a way fulfilling. There’s an understanding. 

But today felt different to you. Usually when he gets demanding and sees that he is genuinely asking for something that stresses you out, he balances it out. He would take a moment to let you know that he sees you and appreciates what you’re doing. And it stands out because it’s not something he does often.

Right now though, he doesn’t even acknowledge it. Maybe you’re being dramatic. It’s best to just focus on your work and your own life.

Lars is taken back. “I know that you do everything you’re supposed to do. You’re great at your job.”

He steps closer to you. He notices the strain on your face. Your expression shows clear irritation. 

You don’t say anything. Turning towards the door, you move to make our exit. Before you can take a second step, you feel a grasp on your upper arm. It halts your movement. 

Your eyes travel down to where you are connected. He doesn’t let go—he loosens his hold but still doesn’t let go. He moves his hand down your arm until he takes hold of your fingers.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He tries to search your eyes for some reaction but you aren’t looking at him.

“Hey look at me.” He gently shakes your hand. It does the trick—your eyes meet his.

Lars feels a pang in his chest. The way your lips pout as you look at him with an expression he’s never seen from you before.

“What do you want?” He asks, but you don’t understand what he’s asking.

“I obviously messed up. I want you to know that I would never want to genuinely upset you.” He pleads. “I thought we were just having our little thing you know.” 

“You talk too much.” It comes out boldly. He chuckles at your remark and he’s relieved. It’s the way you say it that amuses him. There’s a familiarity in it that confirms for him that you’re coming back around. 

“Shut me up then.” 

You pull back your hand from his grasp. However, it doesn’t fall to rest at your side. It goes up to his hair. You run your hands through it gently at first. Then in one swift motion, your grip tightens. “Ouch!” A surprised noise comes from Lars but before he can say anything, you're pushing him down. 

Catching on to what you want him to do, he drops to his knees. Looking up at you, his lips part.

“Please don’t make me ask.” The boldness from before quickly dissipates. Now your heart is pounding in your chest.

He doesn’t make you ask.

His hands move to your hips. As he draws closer to your standing frame—his head at your torso. He places a kiss on your clothed stomach. 

He looks up at you for one last confirmation. You nod your head ever so slightly.

Peeling up your shirt, he exposes your bare stomach. Your breathing is ragged. He places another kiss on your stomach, this time his lips connect with your skin.

Lars begins to undo the buttons of your jeans. He hadn't realized how much he was waiting for this moment. 

“I can’t believe—” 

“Shhh” You cut him off before he finishes his sentence. 

He finally gets it. He unzips your jeans and tugs them down your legs. You step out of them—now you're left before him in only your underwear and top. 

He brushes his nose against the front of your panties. Your mouth falls open—you let out the tiniest nose. 

Your eyes fall shut and you feel a warm, wet sensation swipe over your covered slit. He runs his tongue over your mound, finding your clit. 

Wetness gathers at your entrance. 

“Please take it off.” You plead with him to remove your underwear.

He complies instantly, dragging them down to your ankles and tossing them to the side.

Without a second to spare he hooks his hand behind one of your knees and places your leg over his shoulder. Fully exposing you to him.

His fingers draw over your entrance, gathering your slick. He uses it to massage your clit. You whine and writhe above him. 

There are no thoughts in your head. Your brain is fogged as he continues to move his fingers in circles on your sensitive bud.

He replaces his fingers with his tongue—swirling it over your clit. 

His fingers tease your entrance before he inserts his middle and index into your heat. A loud gasp fills the room. 

“Oh fuck—”

Curving them, he moves them in and out, hitting that spot inside you each time. All the while his tongue continues its service bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Please don’t stop.” Your voice is strained. You feel like you’re about to black out. The sensation of his wet tongue and fingers makes you squeeze your eyes shut.

Lars can feel how close you are. You’re leaking down his fingers. The squelch is obscene as your juices flow out of you.

He removes his fingers and you whine. But he does it for good reason. He replaces them with his mouth, desperate to taste you completely when you finally cum. 

He shoves his tongue into your pussy—using his nose to swipe at your clit providing further stimulation. 

Your legs begin to tremble. “I’m gonna cum—please.”

With a perfectly timed groan, Lars feels it and tastes it before he hears you cry out. You cum right in his mouth and he laps it up like a man starved.

His fingers dig into your thighs as you grip his hair, desperately holding on. Your legs feel like jelly as you shake and convulse above him.

He laps up every last drop as you try to regain your composure. 

Chest rising and falling rapidly—you let out a long deep exhale. Your eyes flutter open finally. 

Looking down you see Lars placing a final kiss on your pelvis before his eyes come up to meet yours.

For a moment there’s a long charged silence. Both of you coming to terms with what just happened. You lower your leg off his shoulder and back to the floor.

…

Then finally it breaks. A smirk creeps up onto his face. You bite your lip to keep from smiling but it fails and you let out a chuckle in disbelief. He follows you and lets out a laugh—it’s a small tired laugh.

When you woke up this morning you had a lot of ideas about how this day was going to go. However, not a single one of those ideas involved you coming in your boss's mouth.

[ducktracy]

hi sorry to drop this long ass ramble in your inbox but god you and that anon are both so right and the tlts post made me realize something

so i personally don’t mind that much when the looney tunes’ characterizations are off, just bc of how often they seem to change. even in the original shorts it seemed like every director had their own spin on the characters’ personalities, to a point where there’s never really felt like there was one “correct” way for them to be, at least to me. but they’ve always been funny is the thing. even when i don’t care much for an interpretation of them, if the show has strong enough writing it’ll still make me laugh! gonna be honest, i really don’t like TLTS Bugs a lot of the time, but he’s still funny! I think about the bit where he gets addicted to energy drinks and punches a hole in the wall for no reason at least once a week! 

but then we get into the thing you mentioned about fandom-ification, and THAT is what ends up bugging me. when we get into the same tired incorrect quotes and snowclone memes and “bugs is gone so i’m gonna cut off all the sleeves on my shirts bc he’s 80% of my impulse control blah blah blah STOP ITTT!! it’s not funny anymore and that’s like the most important thing the looney tunes have to be!! i love TLTS but oh my god it’s so clear a lot of people have never engaged with any other LT media and they just want archetypes to project the same years old fandom tropes onto. if you make the looney tunes unfunny you have failed, go watch a roadrunner cartoon and write me a paper on what you’ve learned about visual gags /j. This is also kind of the same reason i don’t like space jam 2 or a lot of the 90s stuff that does the “heh.. in case you didn’t know, we’re the looney tunes, and yeah. we’re pretty wacky” thing. if you have to tell me how looney you are i don’t believe you.

sorry again for length i had a lot to say abt this dhsjdjd

MY FRIEND you are sending this to the long ass ramble BLOG!! IT’S MORE THAN WELCOME! especially because i um. kind of exploded in this oops. you are not the long rambler here

and before i get into this too deeply, i just wanna say THANK YOU—both for you sending this and the receptiveness of these Hot Takes. it’s hard for me to put my usual positive spin on this subject because my opinions are so strong, and i’ve ended up annoying a lot of people over this in the past and so i just end up kinda grinning and bearing it.. plus it’s not conductive to my time, spiraling over what i don’t like does no good.. but i do feel so strongly about this because it’s tied to what i do love and. just. YEAH. we all know this. but i still feel the need to apologize because i hate coming off as gatekeepy or like a know it all, it’s not my intent or belief at all. so i’m grateful for you guys giving me the chance to rant and knowing that i’m not alone, because very often i feel that’s not the case :’)

I AGREE WITH THIS.. and thank you for reminding me, i probably should clarify that, again, LT has no canon. these guys are always changing characterization and context. we have shorts where Daffy is miserable and calling Bugs despicable and getting his beak shot off, and in the same release year we’ll have a short where the cartoon ends out on him going HOOHOO HOOHOO and he’s the one with the relatively calm disposition. these characters are always changing! there is no canon! and so i guess when i say i don’t think TLTS is “in character”, i moreso am saying “TLTS doesn’t preserve the integrity of the characters in my eyes”. i’ll get into this in a bit

therein lies the rub. there are persistent character traits regardless of director, but there are so many different shades of character. and modern adaptations don’t have this benefit! because the directors who made these guys are dead, but because modern adaptations don’t have the same sort of flexibility in structure. and i very much think it’s possible to make an “amalgam” of a personality for these guys—i do it all the time! you can borrow elements from multiple different directors and shades of these characters. but the TLTS characterizations are the TLTS characterizations, and i think this makes people think that this is how THE characters act, period. because it’s all they know, and because i think the admittedly convoluted existence of these characters can be hard to understand… at first. i’m losing my words on this, but hopefully that makes sense? i think that’s a very big part of this “condensation” of these characters found in TLTS. and, again, that’s compensated for in the writing by replacing many unique traits these guys have with stock sitcom tropes. and most people don’t know these characters well enough to identify any differently. it’s this caricature-within-a-caricature homogenization, and when you say that these characters weren’t intended to be like that, you’re seen as a blow hard or a pretentious know it all. but yes, please tell us about how “um, actually, Daffy’s neck ring is made of diamonds” when speaking about Daffy as a whole/all LT media as a whole. or how um, actually, these characters are actors (i’m more sympathetic to this one, it’s a common angle for these characters and more modern stuff like Back in Action doesn’t do much in clearing this “misinformation”. but i don’t think people realize that they’re actors only in the shorts where they’re established as actors—it’s just a funny way for the directors to “explain” the meta elements of the shorts, running with the joke of “wouldn’t it be funny if these guys were ACTUALLY actors”? it should only be assumed that they’re actors in the shorts where they say they are. it’s a set dressing. Daffy Duck is Daffy Duck. not Daffy Duck, actor. Porky pulling out a script in Porky’s Duck Hunt does not mean that every single short that has him in it means he’s an actor. it’s just a silly gag. sorry this is irrelevant and more innocent of a misunderstanding, but thats always been something i find myself explaining too and people getting weirdly defensive about)

ANYWAY, getting back to relevancy. i agree with you!! there is a lot about the show's writing that IS funny! again, i should reiterate that i LOVED this show! i've seen every episode a minimum of 3 times, there are still things that make me smirk, i once skipped class to watch episodes in the college library lol. i'm very well acquainted with the show because i was once a fan, and it has made me laugh. but anything i have laughed at is purely divorced of the characters. i would laugh probably more if this were a show that had entirely original characters instead, and i wish it did because it would be one of my favorite shows in that case.

but that's The Thing. it's tied to these legacy characters and does them so. dirty. i always rant about Porky because i think they did him worst, and he's already had such a volatile legacy as is, but i'm ranting about his portrayal again because i think it's just the best encapsulation of my issues with this show. here is my every issue with TLTS summed up in one image:

THIS SHOULD NOT BE A VIDEO THAT EXISTS!!!!! IT LITERALLY GOES AGAINST HIS CORE CHARACTER! I!!!! AHHHH!! i know i sound insane ranting about this because it's Looney Tunes. it's fucking Looney Tunes. but the original directors distinctly abstained from having Porky be too hurt because he's a sensitive character, and they knew that it was unpleasant to watch him get beat up! or made fun of! when Daffy makes fun of his stutter in Tom Turk and Daffy, there's a long pause where Porky just blinks and stares at him and doesn't react, before continuing on with his day. because that puts the blame back on Daffy. the joke isn't "lol Porky stutters", the joke is "lol Daffy is a complete asshole here". and there's no "lol Daffy is a complete asshole here, but we love him, right?" like there is so much of with TLTS. i don't know, they have Daffy act horrifically towards him in TLTS, and i know it's not saying "let's all be like Daffy" BUT PORKY GETS NO.. COMEUPPANCE.. OR ANYTHING. there's no "checking in" or "revising" on Porky's part to show that it didn't affect him. or, a lot of times, the originals will have PORKY be the instigator, and that justifies Daffy's retaliation against him! and, again, in the case where this isn't true, where Daffy is just beating up on him for no good reason (The Ducksters), THE SHORT HAS PORKY GET HIS COMEUPPANCE AND DELIVER THE EXACT SAME TREATMENT TO DAFFY. there is a very carefully curated balance here. because nobody wants to see Porky get beat up. the directors were very conscious of this. Porky in Wackyland has him getting hit on the head with a bunch of bricks, and he starts crying--the remake, Dough for the Do-Do, cuts this out because THEY KNEW THAT WAS UNPLEASANT! EVEN FOR A GAG! i don't really like DftDD, but that's one thing i think they did right.

and THAT'S why i get so mad about the Porky abuse in this show. not only because of how it completely misunderstands the Porky and Daffy dynamic and leading people to make bizarre assumptions about them ("Daffy and Porky are toxic together" 1. it's Looney Tunes 2. no your only understanding of their dynamic is from TLTS which is violently misrepresented 3. IT'S LOONEY TUNES 4. IT'S. LOONEY. TUNES.), but because it just feels like it goes directly against these intentions that the directors had with the character. Porky differs per director, but there are still some resounding rules in place

and it just comes off as accidental resentment for the character. i don't think it's on purpose. i know the whole thing is "but Porky's actually nice, he doesn't deserve this" BUT IT DOESN'T COMMUNICATE THAT EFFECTIVELY. your fat jokes about Porky being fat--WHEN HE'S THE SKINNIEST HE'S EVER BEEN--AND HIM TAKING OFFENSE TO IT, WHICH, AGAIN, SHOULD NOT EVER HAPPEN, EVER, ARE!!!!! I. I JUST LOST MY WORDING I'M SO MAD!!! BUT YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN!!!! making an entire song about how Porky is a lonely loser incel shut-in and will never get a date isn't on his side or pitying him. and it's literally just mean for the sake of meanness.

i always feel silly complaining that TLTS is meanspirited, because so are the shorts. this is why we love the shorts. LT is filled with assholes and cynics and characters of every shade of derangement. the shorts are mean. i love Bob McKimson's shorts and they're some of the meanest around. i love them because they're mean. one of my favorite Porky shorts ends with him killing himself and it being played with extreme cynicism. i'm not at all opposed to cynicism or meanness, but that cynicism or meanness in the originals is never at the expense of the actual integrity of the characters. there's a baseline of respect, i guess. the mean-ness in TLTS just comes off to me as putting down the intent of the original characters, and it comes off to me as accidentally disrespecting the vision these directors had for these characters. i again don't think it was on purpose. but you can see how that becomes a chain reaction in fandom circles of fans misrepresenting even what they're watching on TLTS (i've since been told that there are some people out there who say they've gotten into LT, and by that i mean watching those godawful YouTube tumblr-brained compilations that clip things out of context and nothing else. sorry i'm being incredibly mean right now but i just. agh. sorry). and there's just this convoluted chain reaction that ends up feeding into this feeling of disdain for the originals, even if it's unintentional

"Porky would be a more popular character if he wasn't the brunt of so many fat jokes and, in spite of shows like TLTS trying to play it off as irony, it's sort of absorbed by osmosis and subconsciously absorbed into a lot of peoples' opinions about him. the same applies to the stutter jokes through the years" is unfortunately a real opinion i have and got mocked for lol. which, to be fair, there is a lot to mock, it's FUCKING LOONEY TUNES, but it's coming from similarly pedantic people who try to play off their knowledge as gospel and will call you a gatekeeper for saying that that's not representative of the character

ugh sorry im getting on a whole 'nother rant but. like. WHERE'S THE JOKE. WHAT'S THE JOKE HERE. "the joke is that Daffy was wrong the whole time, it's a misunderstanding" OKAY BUT HAVING PORKY TAKE GREAT OFFENSE TO THIS AND NOT EVEN IN AN INDIGNANT WAY, BUT JUST A SAD WAY, MAKES THIS SO UNPLEASANT HOW IS THIS FUNNY. WHERE IS THE FUNNY. "it's funny because he was wrong" BUT THAT STILL DOESN'T MAKE UP FOR THE FACT THAT WE'RE JUST SUPPOSED TO LAUGH AT THIS? "well it's supposed to be meanspirited and Daffy is the asshole" OK BUT THIS IS JUST UNNECESSARILY CRUEL? and THIS IS MY FAVORITE EPISODE OF THE SERIESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! AAAAHHhhh. AND HE'S NOT EVEN FAT HE IS STARVING GIVE MY MAN A SANDWICH

and again i keep saying it but there's this weird phenomenon of "well, the originals made fun of Porky's weight!" Daffy saying "oh well, i'll be [the bigger person]...........goodnight, fatboy!", demonstrating how he's NOT BEING THE BIGGER PERSON AT ALL and is being an immature little shit is SO much more different than this or talking about how Porky needs to lose weight because he has so much face or whatever. not that it makes the fat jokes in the originals better, they're very much there, but at least it feels like there's some sort of weird, twisted endearment behind them. Daffy calling Porky an "overstuffed cherub" is much different than characters telling him straight to his face that he needs to lose weight. and this is not an issue just with TLTS, it's incredibly common all through the past 30 years of LT content, even LTC has a "lol Porky's lying about what he actually ate because he's fat" joke that gets me :/ because the originals never! did! that! and i just. iunno. complete misunderstanding of the originals

and i want to say again that, in spite of all this, i don't think the originals are the end all be all. i don't think you have to see all 1000 LT shorts to be a fan. if you're just in it for TLTS? THAT'S AWESOME! enjoy it! but my issue comes from people acting like these things are FACT and SAYING these are FACT, and will go out of their way to say "don't correct me because i didn't watch some old ass short" or will accuse you of being uppity and "sophisticated" just because you're saying "that's not how this was intended". my issue is that people will "fansplain" (i hate that term im so sorry i know i sound like such a pompous elitist but it gets the point across quickly) these things to me and insist that these misrepresentations are cold hard fact (like, again, Daffy's neck ring), and then they get mad at you for trying to correct them. and it's not like i think people are stupid for not knowing these things!! but there's been such a violent pushback against educating yourself ABOUT FUCKING LOONEY TUNES GUYS IT'S LOONEY TUNES!!!!!! that has really just... ?????? i swear i've never been in a fandom that takes such pleasure in bragging about its refusal to educate itself than i have in the LT fandom. and yall. i have a very unfortunate track record of having been young on the internet and being in fandoms i should not have been. eyeballing the 10 or so of you who followed this blog from 2016-2018. hi.

god i'm getting off on so many different tangents i am so sorry anon i'm just 😭. in response to the fandomification thing/extension of that, i'm not even AGAINST the fandomification of things... IF THEY'RE DONE RIGHT. i've been a part of it and know it firsthand (hi guys you know how you are👋)! write that fic draw that fanfic have fun do what you want, etc. but it's so clear that the CONSUMPTION of these characters is purely FOR a fandom lens, when, preferably, it's the other way around. characters first, then add what you wanna do on top! but it's always the other way around, these characters are fit into the most stock and milquetoast tropes and it becomes a breeding ground of misrepresentation and turns into a domino effect of people yelling at you for disagreeing with their points that they play off as fact. life is short do what you want HAVE FUN FOR YOURSELF FIRST AND FOREMOST. i've been teaching myself this again. you don't have to have The Official LT Guidebook to draw or write what you want. but there is very much a fundamental issue of people viewing these characters with a Fandomification Lens first and foremost and using that to base their entire perception of the character and acting like that is how these characters were intended to behave, and that you're a pompous gatekeeping asshole for saying otherwise

i'm not saying you can't make your ooc posts, i'm not saying you can't ship things, i'm not saying you can't write or watch or surround yourself in what appeals to you. but i am saying that i take issue with the frequent ego problems i've run into this fandom. THE LT FANDOM. IT'S LOONEY TUNES!!!! i take issue with the ego problems i run into that are based purely on misinformation, and the borderline pride people get out of refusing to budge from it. there's so much proud ignorance and i just. iunno. me getting offended on behalf of a bunch of dead 110 year old men who have offended me on multiple occasions with some of their cartoons doesn't do anything very productive either, but. "Anti-Intellectualism and The Looney Tunes Fandom: An Essay". <- that's it that's the tweet because it made me laugh because of how insane it sounds, but i can't say it's not the point i'm trying to make

i also agree wholeheartedly with the 90s thing too. ugh. these characters and these directors and this franchise has been done so dirty over and over again

thank you so much for giving me a chance to rant i am so sorry for how whiny and obnoxious i've surely been i've just hit my limit 🙃 so many problems could be solved by watching a Daffy Duck cartoon instead (a real one that does his character justice) (just kidding) (kind of) (a little bit) (hypothetically)

how it feels

[noctusfury]

Dragon Flyer Ranks (RTTE)

Hello, everyone. Welcome to another HTTYD/RTTE article. This is the final piece to my series about Dragon Flyer hierarchy and military structure (Dragon Skins, Elite, Hierarchy). In this post, I'll be sharing what I think the ranks would be had the Dragon Flyers been allowed to expand into a larger organization, similar to the Dragon Hunters.

As you know from the Hierarchy post, I believe that Flyers are ranked according to their dragon skins. Those wearing Zippleback skins are elites, those wearing gold dragon skins are veterans, those wearing Nightmare skins and Nadder wing skirts are juniors, and those wearing nothing but badly tanned dragon skins are rankers.

And as you know from the chart below, the hierarchy is as follows:

Krogan > Disciples (12 Best Warriors) > Regular Flyers > Recruits

The hierarchy and ranking system were originally rather simple and straightforward since the unit wasn't very large—it probably wasn't past 20 Flyers in the beginning.

However, if the organization becomes larger—for example, 50-100 Flyers—a more intricate ranking system will be needed.

Here is what I think the ranks could be. I even made some cool edits for this occasion. 😎

Krogan: Thunder Lord / Thunder Chieftain

The top-most rank is, naturally, Thunder Lord or Thunder Chieftain, which Krogan possesses as the head of the Dragon Flyers. It could be compared to a Headmaster of a Knight Order or a Group Leader of a Fighter Group in modern terms. Thunder Master could very well be another excellent coinage of this position.

As expected, this position oversees all Flyers and their squadrons and flight-pairs.

Thunder Captain / Flyer Leader

Thunder Captain, or just Flyer Leader, is the second-in-command of the Thunder Chieftain (or Krogan), just like our Flyer Leader above. His job is to carry out his orders, command the Chief's personal squadron, the "Deadly Dozen", and oversee any projects or missions entrusted by Krogan.

He also oversees the other Squadron/Flight Leaders under him. They choose someone for this rank from the Elite Flyers, particularly the "Deadly Dozen".

Thunder Master

Thunder Master is a rank similar to the medieval Master-at-Arms or the modern rank Sergeant Major. They directly receive orders from Krogan and are responsible for managing the briefings and mission assignments for the Flyers.

As such, they hold a higher position than even the squadron and flight leaders since they directly receive directions from Krogan to delegate mission assignments to certain units.

The Thunder Master is also responsible for the training of recruits before integrating them into the Dragon Flyer organization.

Flyers who gain these two ranks are often from the Master / Veteran Flyer ranks (Goldskins). What distinguishes them from the others is their orange dragon-skins and pauldrons.

Thunder Master's Wingman

Thunder Master's Wingman is the Thunder Master's subordinate and helps him with various administrative tasks and also helps train the recruits whenever the Thunder Master isn't around. In fact, this guy is mostly responsible for this responsibility as the organization gets bigger and Krogan and the other higher-ups don't have time for training them personally.

The Wingman takes over the Thunder Master's responsibilities if he is absent or is killed. He also, true to his rank, is the Thunder Master's wingman in battle and watches his back.

This rank also oversees other wingmen of lower ranks.

The Wingman is unique in that he wears his pauldron on his left shoulder instead of his right shoulder like the Second Claw Flyers.

Elite Flyers

Spots in Krogan's personal squadron, the "Deadly Dozen," are always guaranteed to Flyers of this rank. They are among the best of the best in the Dragon Flyers and also always assumed to promise a fierce fight to any who claim to be enemies of the Flyers and Krogan. Flyers of this rank are not only Krogan's most loyal warriors but are the most fanatic, viewing the total annihilation of dragons as the most righteous of causes.

This rank is further separated into three parts:

Elite Flyer, Third Claw

Elite Flyer Third Claw is the top-most rank in the Flyer Organization, aside from Flyer Leader and Thunder Chieftain. These Flyers are guarantees to the positions of Flyer Leader and Squadron and Flight Leaders, though other ranks can have these positions as well. They are also shoe-ins for the "Deadly Dozen" squadron.

They make up 20% of the Elite Flyers in this class.

Their Nightmare-skin skirt and two spiked pauldrons distinguish them from other ranks.

The Flyer Leader, Krogan's lieutenant, has this rank.

Elite Flyer, Second Claw

Elite Flyer Second Claw is the second-most senior rank in the organization. Unlike those of the Third Claw, these Flyers only have one spiked pauldron and nothing else that's distinguishable. (Take notice that from here on, all Flyers with the Second Claw rank will have one pauldron on their right shoulder, unlike the Thunder Master's Wingman, who wears it on his left shoulder.)

Flyers of this rank make up 10% of this class.

Elite Flyer, First Claw

Elite Flyer First Claw, the lowest rank of the Elite Flyers, is still above most and is the entry level of the Elite Flyer class. Unlike the previous two ranks, this Flyer rank has no distinguishing trappings aside from their Zippleback-skin tunic. 70% of Elite Flyers are of this rank.

Master / Veteran Flyers

Like the Elite Flyers, Flyers of this group are always guaranteed spots in Krogan's squadron and are often chosen as Squadron Leaders or Flight Leaders, usually the latter.

Similar to the Roman Centurion or NCO rank (1700-20XX), these Flyers form the backbone of the Dragon Flyers, making up about roughly 45% of the organization. The highest rank they can go is Thunder Master and Thunder Master's Wingman.

People of this rank, like Elite Flyers, are known for their loyalty to Krogan and their fanatical zeal and cruelty in wiping out the dragons.

These Flyers are unique in wearing yellow dragon skins, Gronkle-skin vambraces, and a helmet with only one horn instead of the usual three. They also lack a dragonskin kilt. They are known for wearing footprint-shaped markings on their faces and helmets.

Master Flyer, Third Claw

Master Flyer Third Claw is the top-most rank in this class. They always pick candidates for the Thunder Master position from this rank. And, if they're lucky, they can graduate to the Elite Flyer class.

Squadron Leaders can be chosen from among these Flyers.

The Flyers in this class can be distinguished by their pauldrons (or lack thereof). In this case, Third Claw Master Flyers wear two spiked pauldrons.

This rank makes up 10% of the Master Flyers in this class.

Master Flyer, Second Claw

Master Flyer Second Claw is the second-most rank in this class, making up 10% of Master Flyers in this class. Like other Second Claws, this rank also wears one spiked pauldron on their right shoulder.

Members of this rank are eligible to attain the Thunder Master or Thunder Master Wingman positions.

Master Flyer, First Claw

Master Flyer First Claw is the lowest rank of this class, but the most common, making up 80% of the Master Flyers in this class. They often make up the Flight Leaders and Senior Flyers of pair-units.

Junior / Senior Flyers

The lowest among the ranks and classes in the Dragon Flyer organization, their crudely tanned dragon skin clothes and white war paint sets them apart from the others.

These Flyers also make up the ranks of the wingman positions in wing and flight units.

Junior Flyer, Third Claw / Senior Flyers

Junior Flyer Third Claw, also known as Senior Flyer, is a rare rank, only making up 3% of the Flyers in this class. They are also the most senior and experienced Flyers making up this class. As a result, they quickly join the Master Flyer classes not long after they get this rank.

Their rank is shown by wearing two pauldrons, a Nadder-wing kilt, and two Monstrous Nightmare-skin vambraces.

Junior Flyer, Second Claw

Junior Flyer Second Claw is the second highest rank in this class and the most common rank, making up 57% of the Junior Flyers in this class.

They often fill wingman positions in wing (two-Flyer) and flight (four-Flyer) units.

What marks their rank is one spiked pauldron on their right shoulder, like all Second Claws. They also wear a Nadder-wing kilt, slightly better quality Nightmare-skin tunics, and one Nightmare-skin vambrace.

Junior Flyer, First Claw / Fledglings

Junior Flyer First Claw, also known as a "Fledgling," is the lowest of both rank and class in the thunder, second only to Recruit. They make up 40% of all Junior Flyers in this class.

They are the least experienced, trained, and indoctrinated out of all the Flyers, causing them to be the first to panic or flee if something doesn't go their way; they wear nothing of distinction and lack any accomplishments or battle honors, wearing dragon skins of mediocre quality. The best of this rank can eventually earn themselves a Nightmare-skin vambrace.

The Bottom-Feeders

Recruits, often demeaningly called "Stubs" (wingless dragons incapable of flight), are the lowest and bottom-most rank of all Flyers in the thunderband.

The organization integrates these recruits into their ranks, who are fresh and ready for training and indoctrination. They get trained by the Thunder Master and his Wingman in the ways of the Dragon Flyer and help them learn to fly their Singetail companions without issue. If they're unavailable, then either an Elite Flyer or Master Flyer comes to train them.

They are given low-quality dragon skins and gear.

We can summarize the ranks and hierarchy of the Dragon Flyers like this:

The positions can be further summarized with the highest position on the left and the lowest on the right:

Thunder Chieftain (Krogan) > Flyer Leader / Thunder Captains > The Deadly Dozen > Thunder Lieutenants >Thunder Master > Thunder Master's Wingman > Squadron Captains > Flight Captains > Wing Leaders / Senior Flyers > Regular Flyers > Recruits.

<><><><><>

Conclusion

These are the ranks that I believe might and could exist if the Dragon Flyers had been allowed to expand their organization further.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this what-if article. Have a wonderful Wednesday.

Long Live the Night!

— Noctus Fury

[monktwo]

Part 12 of The missing piece series

So you’re staying?

It was strange how two weeks could feel like a lifetime.

Not because the days dragged — they flew. But in that small stretch of time, everything shifted.

You’d scored goals with the B team. You’d linked up with Alexia and Pina like it was second nature with the A team. You’d tracked back in defense beside Ingrid and earned a wink from Mapi when you won the ball clean.

You hadn’t just played well — you’d fit.

And off the pitch? You were home.

Ingrid had asked you one Thursday morning, half-asleep with her head on your stomach: “So… are we official now?”

Mapi, from where she was brushing her teeth, had yelled, “We’ve been official since I let her steal my hoodies!”

You hadn’t argued. You just grinned and nodded and kissed them both.

Everything felt… right.

Until the meeting was scheduled.

Then, suddenly, it all felt very real — and a little terrifying.

—

You walked into the glass conference room wearing clean jeans, your nicest shirt, and nerves like steel wool under your skin.

Pere Romeu was already seated. Calm, warm.

Laporta walked in a minute later with a wide smile and a strong handshake. “Y/N. Good to see you again.”

You smiled, gripping his hand just tight enough. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

To your right sat your mamma — hands folded neatly, eyes taking everything in.

To your left, your mami, dressed like she’d just walked out of a Fortune 500 photoshoot. Her tablet was already open, stylus poised. Ready.

The meeting began smoothly.

Pere spoke first — praising your tactical awareness, your balance, your coachability.

“The technical staff has been deeply impressed,” he said. “And not just by your skill, but by your attitude and the work you put in.”

Laporta took over then.

“Your ability to blend with the team, to understand our play philosophy, is rare. You’re already one of ours.”

You nodded, listening — trying not to squirm in your seat.

Then came the offer: a two-year contract, with a performance-based extension option. Full training with the A team. Media and sponsorship guidance. Language support, if needed.

And housing — the temporary home you’d been staying in could be yours long-term. It was close to the training grounds, secure, in a good neighborhood.

That’s when you froze.

“I—” you started. “I’m not sure I can live here alone.”

The silence that followed wasn’t judgmental — just quiet. Careful.

“I mean… I can,” you clarified. “But I don’t want to.”

You turned to your mamma.

“Can you stay?”

Her eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady.

“Sweetheart… I would, in a second. But I can’t take your sister out of her life back home. She needs structure. School. Friends.”

“But I need you too,” you said, and it cracked out before you could stop it.

“I know,” she whispered, reaching for your hand across the table.

“I’m not trying to be a baby,” you added, blinking hard. “It’s just—this is huge. I don’t want to leave you. You’ve always been there to help me figure things out.”

“You’re not a baby,” Laporta said gently. “You’re human.”

“We anticipated some need for family integration,” Pere added. “And we’re open to solutions.”

Your mami leaned forward then, calm as ever.

“We discussed this last night. I travel here regularly. I can stay at the house during those trips. And my wife—”

“I can fly in for long weekends,” Hanne finished. “Once a month. Minimum. We’ll figure it out.”

You stared down at your hands. Then up again.

It wasn’t what you’d dreamed of. But maybe it was enough.

“I don’t want to delay this,” you said quietly. “This is what I want. i don’t want more speculations on if I am signing for another club or more of this media drama. I just want to know my family’s with me.”

“You’ll never lose us,” Hanne said.

“And now,” Mami added, passing the tablet across the table, “you’ll have a club that believes in you, too.”

—

You signed the contract with your hands still a little shaky.

Laporta stood immediately.

“Welcome to FC Barcelona,” he said again, this time like it meant forever.

Pere smiled.

“You’ll report back in two weeks. Take this time to finish your exams. Pack. Say goodbye on your terms.”

You nodded.

Hanne pulled you in for a hug the second the meeting ended.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.”

And when you stepped out into the hallway, Ingrid and Mapi were both waiting, practically vibrating with excitement.

“You did it?” Ingrid asked.

You nodded.

Mapi squealed and pulled you into her arms.

“¡Vamos! You’re ours on paper now!”

You buried your face into her neck and exhaled.

You were officially a Barça player.

Still a little terrified.

But mostly?

Excited.

Keep reading

[positivelyholland]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write something with Sebastian Stan x Daughter!Reader where Sebastian brings her to work with him

Magic of Movies

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x teen!daughter!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: i suck at summaries but its just exactly what the request says lol

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

The bright Los Angeles sun is already high in the sky when your dad drives through the studio gates. The bustling world of a movie set awaits you, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness.

As you pull up to the lot, you notice a mix of trailers, equipment trucks, and crew members moving purposefully around. The air buzzes with energy and anticipation. Sebastian parks the car and turns to you, a warm smile on his face.

“You ready for this, kiddo?” he asks, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

You nod eagerly. “Definitely. This is so cool, Dad!”

He laughs and ruffles your hair. “I’m glad you think so. Just remember, it can get a bit chaotic, but it’s all part of the magic.”

You step out of the car and follow him, taking in everything around you. The set is like a miniature city, with people rushing to and fro, each person focused on their specific task. You see camera crews setting up equipment, costume designers fussing over outfits, and actors going over their lines. It’s a whirlwind of activity, and you’re fascinated by every detail.

Sebastian leads you through the maze of trailers and set pieces, greeting various crew members along the way. Everyone seems to know him, and it’s clear he’s well-liked. You feel a surge of pride knowing your dad is such an integral part of this world.

As you walk, he points out different aspects of the set, explaining their purpose. “That’s the director’s tent,” he says, gesturing to a large structure with monitors and equipment. “They’ll be watching everything from there, making sure the shots look good.”

You nod, trying to absorb as much information as possible.

As you reach a large soundstage, Sebastian leads you inside. The transition from the bright sunlight to the dimly lit interior is jarring, but your eyes quickly adjust. The space is filled with elaborate sets that transport you into another world. You can hardly believe this is where the magic happens.

“Wow,” you whisper, looking around in awe. “This is amazing.”

Sebastian grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “I knew you’d like it. Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people.”

“Hey, everyone,” Sebastian calls out, drawing their attention. “This is my daughter, Y/N. She’s visiting the set today.”

The actors turn to you, their expressions friendly and welcoming. You feel a little shy under their scrutiny, but you manage a smile and a wave.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” one of them says, extending a hand. “I’m Jack. Your dad’s told us a lot about you.”

You shake his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. “Nice to meet you too. It’s so cool to see everything up close.”

The others introduce themselves, and you find yourself relaxing more and more. They treat you like one of their own, making jokes and sharing stories about working with your dad. You can’t help but feel like you’re part of this big, extended family.

After a while, Sebastian takes you over to the director, a woman with a kind smile and an intense focus. She’s surrounded by monitors, watching the latest takes with a critical eye.

“Hey, Sarah,” Sebastian says, tapping her on the shoulder. “I want you to meet my daughter, Y/N."

Sarah turns and smiles warmly at you. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Your dad’s a great guy, and an amazing actor. We’re lucky to have him.”

You blush, feeling proud. “Thanks. It’s really cool to see everything you do here. I’ve always wondered what it’s like behind the scenes.”

Sarah nods, her expression thoughtful. “It’s a lot of hard work, but it’s also incredibly rewarding. There’s nothing quite like seeing a story come to life.”

You spend the next few hours exploring the set with your dad, meeting more people and learning about their roles. You even get to watch a few scenes being filmed, and you’re amazed by how much effort goes into each shot. Every detail, from the lighting to the sound, is meticulously crafted to create the perfect scene.

At one point, you find yourself alone with your dad, sitting in a quiet corner of the set. He looks at you with a smile, a mixture of pride and affection in his eyes.

“So, what do you think?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

“I think it’s incredible,” you reply, your eyes wide with excitement. “I had no idea how much work goes into making a movie. It’s like a whole different world.”

Sebastian nods, his expression thoughtful. “It is. And it’s a world I’m really passionate about. I’m glad you got to see it firsthand.”

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth and connection with your dad. “Me too. Thanks for bringing me here, Dad. It means a lot.”

He reaches out and squeezes your hand. “Of course, kiddo. I’m glad you’re here. And who knows? Maybe one day you’ll be part of this world too.”

You feel a spark of excitement at the thought. “Maybe. I think I’d like that.”

The day continues, and you find yourself immersed in the magic of filmmaking. You watch as your dad transforms into his character. You see the work between the cast and crew, the way they support each other and work together to create something amazing.

As the day comes to an end, you find yourself feeling a little sad to leave. You’ve fallen in love with the world of movies, and you’re already looking forward to your next visit.

On the drive home, you and your dad talk about the day’s events, sharing your favorite moments and memories. You feel a deep sense of gratitude for the opportunity to see your dad in his element, and for the chance to be part of something so special.

“Dad,” you say quietly, looking over at him. “I had an amazing time today. Thank you for bringing me.”

Sebastian smiles, his eyes filled with pride and love. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Y/N/N. You’re always welcome on set. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be the one behind the camera one day.”

You smile, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought. “Maybe. I think I’d like that.”

As you pull into the driveway, you feel a sense of contentment and joy. Today was a day you’ll never forget, a day that brought you closer to your dad and opened your eyes to a world of possibilities.

You know that whatever path you choose, you’ll have the love and support of your dad, and that’s all you need to face whatever comes your way.

As you head inside, you can’t help but smile. You know for a fact that with your dad by your side, you’re ready for anything.

[da-rulah]

Welcome to my masterlist!

All fics are tagged by main characters involved and rated either sfw or nsfw 18+.

Under 18’s please respect these ratings.

Trigger warnings are tagged in the posts.

Full Length Fics

Confessional. [NSFW 18+] As a sister of sin, it was your duty to confess at least once a month, to have your sins praised by a higher up member of the clergy. But you only ever chose Thursday nights, when you knew he was on duty. And tonight, you were working up the courage to confess your darkest sin - the dreams you had been having..

  > Read on Tumblr (3 Parts)   > Archive of Our Own

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You’d never even heard the Dark One’s voice like your Siblings… But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work… Terzo centric fic, but smut pairings include Copia in the *bold* chapter highlighted below.

> Read on Tumblr (8 Parts, Part 6 for Copia) > Archive of Our Own

Heads Will Roll. [SFW] Copia is waiting on the new Papa V, anxiously awaiting their arrival. He's not sure what he expected, but... It certainly wasn't him. > Read on Tumblr > Read on AO3

Headcanons/Drabbles

Copia teases reader with dirty talk... [NSFW 18+]

Copia stress relief [SFW]

A plus-sized reader's first time with Copia [NSFW 18+]

Copia's rats interrupting your night together... [NSFW 18+]

Copia receives a love letter from his crush... [SFW]

Surprising Papa on tour... [NSFW 18+]

Copia comforts you after a traumatic nightmare... [SFW]

Reader is suffering with the memories of past trauma... [SFW]

Reader finds out they're unexpectedly pregnant... [SFW]

Copia gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Reader tells Copia about their childhood trauma... [SFW]

Copia's s/o loves writing, and Copia loves them. [SFW]

Reader falls asleep in Copia's Latin class... [NSFW 18+]

Copia gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Reader gets harassed when out with Copia... [NSFW 18+]

Copia is bullied by a Brother of Sin. You stand up for him... [NSFW 18+]

Copia gets jealous when your Christian ex-boyfriend shows up... [NSFW 18+]

Copia gets possessive when a rumour about him spreads while he's on tour... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You'd never even heard the Dark One's voice like your Siblings... But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Creatures of Habit. [NSFW 18+] Every week was the same; the same Sunday routine you'd had for as long as you could remember, lost in the pages of books that sported characters of women like yourself, finding that perfect balance between acquired and self love. But soon come the winter months, and along with it, a strange new face that became a part of your routine. A man, whose self-worth reflected that of your own, forced into seclusion, hiding from the humiliation of forced retirement. You find yourself enraptured by the mysterious man, and somehow, allowing him to become a part of your very own weekly ritual... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

In Cold Blood. [NSFW 18+] Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with. After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home. Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary? > Read on Tumblr > Read on AO3

Headcanons/Drabbles

Terzo HCs (in the style of Confessional)

Full Length Fics

Rubenesque. [NSFW 18+] Retirement had its perks. For Secondo, one of those was being able to spend much more time on the things he enjoyed. And there were only two things he truly enjoyed these days; art, and you. Although if you asked him, he’d insist that they were one and the same. So how would he react when he learns that your peers are mocking your sinfully gorgeous body, and you're struggling to love yourself? > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Come Home to Me. [NSFW 18+] No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Learn the Ropes. [NSFW 18+] Secondo likes to be in charge. He likes to be in control. But you'd always wondered what he might do if one day, you decided to flip the script, and take charge for him... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You’d never even heard the Dark One’s voice like your Siblings… But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work…

Terzo centric fic, but smut pairings include Secondo in the *bold* chapter highlighted below. > Read on Tumblr (8 Parts, Part 5 for Secondo) > Archive of Our Own

Headcanons/Drabbles

Secondo cuddles after a hard day... [SFW]

Secondo gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

None. Yet...

Headcanons/Drabbles

Bishop Primo decides to pick some red roses... [SFW]

Full Length Fics

None. Yet...

Headcanons/Drabbles

The Papa's Kinks [NSFW 18+]

Papas holding their newborn for the first time... [SFW]

Papas reacting you reader crying during/after sex [NSFW 18+]

The Papas and their technology skills... [NSFW 18+]

The Papas and the Halloween costumes their s/o makes them wear [SFW]

Reader asks Papa to keep his robes on... [NSFW 18+]

Papa's comforting a reader on their period [SFW]

Papa's catch reader sneaking out to go to a party... [Hints at NSFW 18+]

Papa's comfort reader who's losing her faith... [Hints at NSFW 18+ in the overall post]

How the Papa's dominate you [NSFW 18+]

Papa's and their thick-thighs S/O [NSFW 18+]

The Papa's make their S/O squirt for the first time... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You’d never even heard the Dark One’s voice like your Siblings… But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work…

Terzo centric fic, but smut pairings include Ghouls in the *bold* chapters highlighted below. > Read on Tumblr (8 Parts, Parts 3 & 7 for Ghouls) > Archive of Our Own

Headcanons/Drabbles

Swiss wanted to try Papa's batwings... [SFW]

The Ghouls catch a cold... [SFW]

The Ghouls go to an escape room... [SFW]

Ghouls holding their newborn for the first time... [SFW]

The Ghouls and their technology skills... [NSFW 18+]

The Ghouls reactions to an easily flustered reader... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

The Mayor's Daughter. [NSFW 18+] Mary knew the entire town hated him; the metalhead with the freaky make up and fake blood dripping down his face. He was the local menace, the town vandal, the cliché trouble maker. He played up to that image, enjoyed the havoc and the chaos, revelled in it. He loved pissing people off. And so, what better revenge to get on his beloved town, than to fuck around with the Mayor's daughter…

> Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 > Archive of Our Own

Headcanons/Drabbles

Sexting with Mary [NSFW 18+]

Jealous Mary headcanons [NSFW 18+]

BDSM Activities with Mary [NSFW 18+]

[halestrom]

⚾⚾⚾

*rabid dog sounds*

(Foul Ball follow up obviously because someone beat me to road trip... but that would be my first pick).

right. so. theyre at the bar. and here is the first part of the story ive written bc idk where im going with this so WELCOME TO THE JOURNEY. so far ive got planned: jake and bradley playing pool, bradley slowly starting to get his back, mav is just...Done, the teammates and daggers have a betting pool going and jake of course gets his way

“So do you actually have a plan or are you just gonna crash and burn in real life?” Harvard asked as he stood back up and handed the cue to Yale who took it, staring at the table, the two of them switching off playing pool as they all waited to see if Bradley would show up.

Jake grinned, taking another sip of his beer as he kept glancing toward the door, unashamed to be waiting. “No plan survives contact, Harvard. We all know that. I don’t make plans, I have goals. And my goal is to test the structural integrity of my bedframe tonight. Now, do I have a person to help in mind? Yes. But I can adapt, especially since I’ve got a clean bill of health,” he said, running a hand down his chest as people around him groaned.

“God, you’re impossible,” Nat said, rolling her eyes as she shoved at his shoulder. “Seriously. Is this a good idea? Mav’s our CO.”

“Mav stole a fuckin’ plane to prove a point. I’m not worried about flirting,” Jake said, rolling his eyes right back. “’Sides, he ain’t said anything to me yet and I sure as shit didn’t hide a goddamn thing.”

Javy snorted, elbowing Jake in the side and cutting in. “Your prince has arrived.”

Jake didn’t bother trying to be subtle as he turned to the door, spotting the group almost immediately by the lack of regulation anything. It took a second to spot Bradley, and Jake just felt his grin grow wider at the sight of the blue Hawaiian shirt, the collar askew like he had quickly thrown it on over the tight tank top underneath it.

“Goddamn,” Jake said, not bothering to lower his voice as he leaned against the pool que.

“The amount of thirsty you are for him is somewhat inspiring,” Fritz said, sounding amused. “Like seriously dude. At least three women have been giving you eyes and you’ve been waiting for him.”

“I wanna get railed, and unless I’m willing to bring up a potentially awkward conversation about dildos sizes and strap ons, they ain’t gonna do me the way I wanna be done,” Jake replied, not looking away as Bradley’s head turn, finally catching his eye. Jake grinned and jerked his chin up in greeting, not missing the eye roll and resigned expression as Bradley elbowed his teammates and they started making their way over.

“That was entirely too much information,” Yale groaned.

“My respect for you just rose a tiny amount,” Nat said, sounding impressed.

“Nat, you love me,” Jake said, finally breaking Bradley’s gaze and looking over at her. “Don’t even pretend you don’t.”

“Stockholm syndrome.”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

“You better get used to it since it’s the only way you’re gonna get laid tonight,” Nat said elbowing him in the side, her eyes drifting to the side, giving him warning despite her words. Jake was fifty-fifty on if she actually cared, or if she just wanted to see him crash and burn. 

He turned his head just as the group appeared, the two groups staring at each other before one of the teammates, the one who had been talking to Bradley if Jake wasn’t mistake, dropped and elbow onto Bradley’s shoulder and peered at Jake. “Well, you’re not bad looking I suppose, right?”

Jake laughed, winking at the teammate. “You straight?”

The man’s eyebrows went up. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, since you’re straight I’ll take it as a compliment, if you weren’t straight I’d say get your eyes checked,” Jake said, spreading his arms wide and waving a hand at himself.

“Oh my god,” another of the teammates said, awe and horror in his voice but Jake just glanced at Bradley and saw the man’s eyes on his way back up and he dropped his arms to the side as and passed the pool cue to Bob who took it with a long sigh. “And now, since I’m feeling particularly nice today, I’ll get the first round under one itty-bitty condition.”

“What’s that?” another teammate asked.

“I’m gonna need a hand carryin’ them,” Jake said, looking straight at Bradley who suddenly looked resigned to the entire situation even as yet another teammate shoved his shoulder.

“Subtle,” Bradley said, rubbing a hand over his face and looking at Jake like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

Jake chuckled as he started walking, trusting Bradley to follow him. “What about today has given you the impression I’m subtle?”

The crowd swallowed up whatever Bradley said in reply as Jake wove his way through the crowd to the bar, finding an opening and leaning his elbows on the bar and waiting. It didn’t take long for a body appear next to him, Bradley mirroring the way he was sitting, the two of them pressed from shoulder to elbow together. It was early enough it wasn’t busy, yet, and Jake easily got Jimmy’s attention.

“Six pitchers and a lot of fuckin’ glasses please and thank you, I’ll bring the spares back,” Jake said, not sure how many of Bradley’s teammates were there.

Jimmy nodded and disappeared and only then did Jake turn to look at Bradley who was watching him steadily. “Well, look who’s here.”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “I was already planning on coming to the Hard Deck.”

“I mean here,” Jake said, rapping a knuckle on the bar.

“You kind of made it impossible for me to not be.”

Jake didn’t bother hiding the smug grin. “Nothing’s impossible darlin’, don’t you know that?”

“I get the feeling you are,” Bradley said, face hard to read.

This close, Jake could see the intensity in those warm brown eyes, and it made him want to push more and more. “So?”

Bradley didn’t reply, even as the first pitcher of beer appeared. Jake just raised an eyebrow and waited, content to sit in silence because despite what some people thought, he could shut up when he needed to.

“What happens if I say no?” Bradley asked.

Jake never played stupid; it didn’t suit him. “Then I leave you be and wander on away,” he said, holding up a hand when Bradley moved to speak, getting a raised eyebrow in return but Bradley tilted his head, indicating for Jake to continue. “Now, before you go and think you can be all cute and say no, be aware I don’t play that game,” he said, more serious than before. “You say no, I leave you alone and that’s that. I am an asshole, but I ain’t that kinda asshole and I ain’t interested in flirting with people who like to pretend they ain’t interested.”

“Bad for your ego?” Bradley asked, looking a little surprised.

Snorting, Jake shook his head. “Oh, baby. Nothin’ like that. I just think it breeds a kind of bad behavior I ain’t got no interest in adding to.” He rolled to his elbow, looking at Bradley and raising an eyebrow, giving Bradley a slow once over before meeting his eyes and smirking. “You sayin’ no?”

Bradley was silent for a long time before he huffed in amusement and shook his head. “I’m not saying yes, mind you. But I’m not saying no. Convince me.”

“I can work with that,” Jake said, reaching out and tugging at Bradley’s collar so it lay flat, letting his fingers brush over his neck.  “Think you can keep up?”

“You’ll have to find out,” Bradley said, his smile small and smug. “If you think you’re good enough.”

“Oh, darlin. I’m the best.”

“Uh huh,” Bradley said, with obvious amusement and a lot of disbelief.

Jake shifted back to face the bar as Penny appeared with the stacks of glasses.

“Penny m’dear, I’m feeling mighty disrespected right now by Bradley here, and I might not have my uniform on but you know your rules should mean somethin’ even if it ain’t obvious when someone is Navy,” Jake said, glancing over at Bradley as he shook his head, the disbelief growing stronger. “I think he owes us a round.”

Penny sat the glasses down. “Hangman, if Bradley’s disrespecting you I’ll by the fucking round,” she said, before she leaned over the bar, accepting Bradley’s kiss on her cheek. “Hey, kid. How was the game?”

“It was fun, got asked out by this nutjob of a fan, still debating if I wanna go anywhere with it,” Bradley said, shrugging as he grabbed the pitchers before winking at Jake and disappearing back into the crowd.

Jake watched him go, eyebrow raised before he turned back to Penny who was holding out her hand, a look of amusement on her face. He obliged, grabbing his card and handing it over, before looking over his shoulder to where Bradley had disappeared, his mind running back over the interaction. It made sense that Bradley knew Penny, especially if Mav knew Penny, but there was a familiarity there that made Jake suddenly, for the first time since concocting the plan, feel like he was on brand new ground.

“You good, Hangman?” Penny asked.

“I’m better than good,” Jake said automatically, looking back at Penny as she slapped his card and the receipt back on the bar. A grin crossed his face as the challenge settled in his chest and he took his card back as he tipped Penny more than normal and nodded his head. “As always Penny, you are the light that brings joy to all those in here,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the bar before grabbing the glasses and leaving, catching her eyeroll as he did so.

But Jake didn’t care. This night was just starting to get interesting.

[astra-ravana]

Keep It Eclectic

Eclecticism in witchcraft and magick refers to the practice of drawing from multiple traditions, spiritual paths, and systems of belief to create a personalized practice. In modern witchcraft, eclecticism plays a crucial role in making the craft more inclusive, adaptable, and meaningful to practitioners. Below are some of the key reasons why eclecticism is important in contemporary magickal practices.

Personalization and Authenticity

Modern witches often find that no single tradition fully resonates with their experiences, beliefs, or needs. Eclecticism allows individuals to:

• Craft a practice that aligns with their personal spirituality.

• Blend different traditions in a way that feels authentic and meaningful.

• Avoid dogma and rigid structures that may not fit their worldview.

For example, a practitioner may feel drawn to the herbal wisdom of traditional European witchcraft, the protective symbols of Hoodoo, and the lunar cycles of Wicca, forming a practice that uniquely reflects their path.

Accessibility and Inclusivity

Historically, many magickal traditions were closed to outsiders, limited to specific cultures, or hidden due to persecution. Today, eclectic witchcraft makes spirituality and magick more accessible by:

• Welcoming people from diverse backgrounds who may not have a direct lineage in a particular tradition.

• Allowing solitary practitioners to develop their own methods rather than requiring formal initiation.

• Encouraging respect for different cultural practices without enforcing exclusivity.

This inclusivity is especially important for witches who may not feel connected to a single cultural or religious identity but still seek a meaningful spiritual path.

Adaptability to Modern Life

Traditional magical systems were often developed in specific cultural and historical contexts. While valuable, some of their original practices may not be practical for modern practitioners. Eclecticism allows witches to:

• Integrate new knowledge, science, and technology into their practice.

• Modify rituals and spells to suit contemporary lifestyles.

• Use materials and correspondences that are more easily accessible today.

For example, a city-dwelling witch who lacks access to wild herbs might use store-bought alternatives, clever placement of sigils, or even technomancy (cyber magick) as part of their eclectic practice.

Encouraging Growth and Exploration

Eclecticism promotes a mindset of continuous learning and exploration, allowing practitioners to:

• Study multiple traditions and expand their magickal knowledge.

• Experiment with different techniques to see what works best for them.

• Develop their intuition by working with various magickal systems.

Rather than adhering to rigid rules, eclectic witches remain open to new ideas, evolving their practices over time.

Bridging the Past and the Future

Eclectic witchcraft preserves the wisdom of ancient traditions while allowing room for new interpretations. This balance ensures that witchcraft remains a living, evolving practice rather than a stagnant relic of the past.

For example, many modern witches:

• Honor ancestral traditions while adapting them to modern ethical standards.

• Combine traditional spellcraft with modern psychology and self-help techniques.

• Use contemporary tools like apps, digital grimoires, or online covens alongside traditional rituals.

Eclecticism and Cultural Sensitivity

While eclecticism encourages borrowing from different traditions, it is also important to practice cultural sensitivity and respect. Responsible eclecticism involves:

• Understanding the origins and significance of the practices one adopts.

• Avoiding cultural appropriation by acknowledging closed traditions that require initiation or ancestral lineage.

• Giving credit to cultures and sources rather than claiming practices as one’s own.

A balanced eclectic practice respects both the freedom to explore and the responsibility to honor traditions appropriately.

Strengthening Individual Empowerment

Ultimately, witchcraft is about personal empowerment. Eclecticism allows practitioners to reclaim their spiritual authority by:

• Trusting their intuition rather than relying on external religious hierarchies.

• Creating a practice that is deeply personal and uniquely effective.

• Feeling free to evolve and change as they gain new insights.

This empowerment is one of the core reasons why eclectic witchcraft has become so popular in modern times.

Eclecticism is essential to modern witchcraft because it fosters inclusivity, adaptability, and personal empowerment. By blending elements from different traditions in a thoughtful and respectful way, practitioners can create a practice that is both meaningful and effective. Instead of being confined to one path, eclectic witches embrace the idea that spirituality is fluid, ever-changing, and deeply personal.

[mythauragame]

Development Update - December 2023

Hi folks, a very Happy New Year to you!

In the spirit of new beginnings, Mythaura has entered a new chapter in its development, which we detail in our December development update. We also take time to review what was accomplished in 2023 (our first full calendar year with Mythaura!).

We've also got our color contest winners, the winning Fighter companion, and much, much more. And of course: our demo is now live! We're so excited for you to traverse the Wild Area, a procedurally generated map with monsters for your team of three Beasts to defeat.

Demo Trailer

Message From The Developers

We're thrilled to share this pivotal update about Mythaura’s development journey, which showcases many of the core features we have planned for this game. Today marks a significant transition: we're shifting from the intricate and challenging phase of game engine development to the exciting realm of feature development.

Since beginning this project, our focus has been on scoping and then crafting robust and core components. Features such as wild areas, battle, and multiplayer systems, not to mention the complex breeding system, passive effect management, player inventory system, and the beast image engine. We've also been diligently integrating these elements with complex user interfaces and ensuring they will work on most devices (an ever ongoing battle). It's been a journey of overcoming unknowns and technical challenges, and we're proud of what we've achieved.

Now, we're entering a new chapter. Our attention turns to fleshing out the game's features, with a special focus on developing an immersive questing and dialogue system, towns & shops, skill trees & progression, and tools for content development among other needed feature development. The hardest challenges have by and large been solved at this stage and our focus can now be how to best deliver an amazing gaming experience by bringing them together. This shift doesn't mean the work is done—far from it. But it's a major milestone that brings us closer to realizing our vision for the game.

We want to express our heartfelt gratitude for your unwavering support and enthusiasm, and look forward to a jam packed 2024.

Year In Review

This year has been marked by numerous milestones. Below is a recap of our key accomplishments, excluding the latest updates which have been a major focus of our efforts for the past several months.

1. Introduction of 'Supers': Enhanced breeding complexity by introducing 'Supers' as a new mechanic, making well-structured breeding projects more valuable. We started with the debut of our first Super: Tegu.

2. Special Additions: Welcomed the special Panda to our list of Specials.

3. Expressions for Beasts: Implemented expressions for beasts, a significant and ongoing undertaking that gives life to your beasts as they interact with NPCs.

4. Elements System: Introduced the Elements system, assigning each beast a pair of inherent elements. An element page was added that delves into the lore of each element.

5. Beast Sizes: Standardized beast sizes, assigning each beast a unique size within its species' range.

6. Beast Classes: Initial build of beast classes, providing each beast with a class-based playstyle and initial items.

7: Radiant Companions: Unveiled Radiant companions, rare alternate colorations for companions that are bound to be highly sought-after.

8: Deep Dive into Seasons: Explored the planned feature 'Seasons', designed to reward ongoing gameplay.

9: The Weekend Traveler: Designed the Kobold NPC known as the Weekend Traveler, who deals in ultra-rare goods, along with the Kobold non-player species.

10. New Colors on the Wheel: Established a sustainable method to introduce new colors to our color palette, allowing us to add 16 new colors this year (including the 3 contest winners).

11. Ephemeral Inks: Introduced Ephemeral Inks, a way to alter the colors of a beast.

12. Color Wheel Page: Created a dedicated page listing colors and corresponding inks.

13. PvP Battle Demo: Rolled out a demo showcasing our multiplayer technology in PvP battles.

14. Mutations Feature: Added Mutations as a rare breeding-only feature, beginning with our first Mutation: Piebald.

15. Items By You: Crafted 11 sponsored companions (excluding recolors), 5 sponsored apparel pieces, and 2 sponsored items.

16. New Game Engine: Designed a render pipeline that can create the 2.5D effects used in Wild Areas during exploration. Including, but not limited to, dynamic shadows, volumetric fog, real-time lighting, collision detection, special & particle effects, and gravity simulation, all accelerated by your GPU.

17. Granular Settings: Created a UI to manage game settings, graphics settings, audio settings, etc as well as added gamepad support with keybind remapping to Wild Areas.

18. Procedural Map Generation: Developed technology to procedurally generate bespoke Wild Areas.

19. Ongoing Production: Work on ongoing behind-the-scenes features such as worldbuilding, map design, systems design, and the exploration features we showcased on this update!

UI Update

You may notice the UI has received an update. This redesign focuses on being accessible for players using controllers, which is something we are working towards supporting on all screens and not just the Wild Area demo. The about page has also been updated. All the links to informational pages you would have found in the left-side menu of the previous design can be found on the about page with the exception of the /species page, whose contents has been moved to the about page.

We have also added an install button to the homepage that will display for users who have browsers which support Progressive Web Apps. This will add Mythaura to your taskbar/home screen for easy full-screen access.

Mobile and tablet users may enable gyroscope to interact with the parallax graphics if they would like.

Feature Spotlight: Wild Area

Wild Areas are a key pillar of Mythaura’s gameplay, and will be where you can expect to spend a lot of your time.

At A Glance

Procedurally Generated Levels

Traverse through uniquely generated levels with your trio of beasts. Control your adventure with WASD for movement and Space for jumps and shift for sprint. This can be remapped in the settings.

Each Wild Area boasts a series of floors. Your goal? Reach the top (or bottom)!

Your Safe Havens: Checkpoint Floors

Leave the Wild Area without any penalties

Choose to start from any previously reached checkpoint.

Encounter formidable bosses or minibosses at many of these checkpoints.

Prepare for the Journey: The Adventure Bag

Your Adventure Bag is your lifeline. Pack it with essential items for survival and success.

Provision Wisely: Stock up and get ready to face the unknown.

Limited inventory space for both what you bring with you and what you find along the way.

Keep Your Energy Up

Your team's energy is key. Keep it replenished with food from your Adventure Bag or found on your journey.

Running out of energy or facing defeat? You’ll black out, dropping your Adventure Bag's contents. But don't worry, you can retrieve them by returning to your last stand.

Encounter the Unexpected

From unlocking treasure chests with lockpicks to aiding NPCs, each exploration offers unique surprises.

Day and Night Dynamics: Encounter different enemies and events. A full day/night cycle completes every 12 real hours.

Wild Areas have natural water bodies, perfect for a fishing escapade.

Escalating Challenges

Increase difficulty with each New Game+ cycle and encounter new enemies and challenging secret bosses.

Multiplayer Co-Op

Up to 3 players can group up to take on a Wild Area together.

Take on enemies as a group with co-op battles.

See your friends jump and move in realtime, split up to make the most of your exploration while keeping tabs on your team-mates through the text chat and the minimap.

Fledgeling’s Forest Demo

The demo features a single floor of the Fledgeling's Forest Wild Area, with unlimited energy.

Day/Night Slider: Experience any time of day at your convenience. (Note: Creatures that spawn remain the same in the demo)

Currently Disabled: Fishing, lockpicking, loot & foraging, multiplayer, and other events are not available in this demo.

NG+ Cycle Update

In last month's update we revealed our plans for Mythaura's New Game+ system. Originally, our plan allowed players from NG+2 and beyond to create any Tier 1-Tier 3 Beast.

We have since changed it so that at the beginning of a player's NG+2 cycle they may make a Tier 1-Tier 3 Beast with up to three Specials, but NG+3 and beyond will not feature any custom Beast creation. The player will instead have access to a pool of NG+3-exclusive items that they will receive items from.

Thank you to our Discord members for all their input, it provided us with a much better direction to move forward with!

Winter Quarter (2024) Concepts

It’s the first day of Winter Quarter 2024, which means we’ve got new Quarterly Rewards for Sponsors to vote on on our Ko-fi page!

Which concepts would you like to see made into official site items? Sponsors of Bronze level or higher have a vote in deciding. Please check out the Companion post and the Glamour post on Ko-fi to cast your vote for the winning concepts!

Votes must be posted by January 29, 2024 at 11:59pm PDT in order to be considered.

All Fall 2023 Rewards are now listed in our Ko-fi Shop for individual purchase for all Sponsor levels at $5 USD flat rate per unit. As a reminder, please remember that no more than 3 units of any given item can be purchased. If you purchase more than 3 units of any given item, your entire purchase will be refunded and you will need to place your order again, this time with no more than 3 units of any given item.

Fall 2023 Glamour: Ghastly Grin

Fall 2023 Companion: Saddleback Rattlecat

Fall 2023 Solid Gold Glamour: Ryu

Custom Color Contest Winners

Last month we revealed the names of the winning colors of our first ever Custom Color Contest--now they've made their official debut in the Beast Creator!

Congratulations again to:

Xander's "Moonstone"

Rhahatl's "Wintergrass"

Andydrarch's "Trench"

We were so impressed by all the amazing entries you all submitted. We'll definitely be running more contests like this in the future, so please stay tuned for them in future updates. Thank you all for participating!

Fighter Class Companion Winner

The brutish Domestic Wolverine will be the starting Companion for the Fighter Class! These brave and hardy creatures are perfectly suited to aiding new Fighters. Next month, we will vote on the next class companion: Rogue.

Meet the Team

We've gotten to learn so much about our supporters over the past year and a half, we thought it was time to share a little bit about ourselves as well! On our About page you can find short bios on each of the devs, including their favorite Mythaura species, color from our color wheel, and other fun and (very miscellaneous) facts.

Safari & iOS Problems

At this time, iOS devices like iPad and iPhone are only partially supported. These are the issues that the dev team is aware of and actively working on:

On iOs, Safari forces a refresh if the memory usage spikes, forcing you back to the demo start page. This happens at different times on different devices dependent on its RAM usage.

Sometimes when starting a battle, battlers start shifted down, then snap to the correct position after interacting with a button.

The zoom in on a beast image is pixelated (Safari bug: https://bugs.webkit.org/show_bug.cgi?id=27684).

On Mac Safari, battle animations showing with a black background. iOS is fine. Solution is to disable battle animations in the settings.

You will need to be running at least iOS 15 and Safari version 15 or greater in order to use Mythaura.

Mythaura v0.25.1

Improvements to AI Behavior: Improved target selection and behavior profiles for AI enemies.

Class Infrastructure Addition: Added new class infrastructure.

Stat Effects from Classes: Implemented functionality where classes affect stats.

Glamour CMS Process and Fixes: Updated and fixed issues related to the glamour content management system process.

Ability Usage Tracking: Implemented increments in the 'ability times used' counter, enhancing tracking of abilities' usage.

Policy Code Refactor: Conducted a significant refactor of policy-related code, improving efficiency and maintainability.

Item Actions Refactoring and Rename Feature: Refactored item actions and added a new feature to rename items, allowing users to name their companions.

Book Item Type Addition: Introduced a new item type - books, adding to the game's content.

Encounter and Description Fixes: Fixed issues with encounter metadata and corrected miss descriptions.

Shadow Maps Generation: Added tools that allow the system to generate shadow assets.

PHP 8.3 Compatibility Updates: Made updates to ensure compatibility with PHP 8.3.

Queue Configuration and Fixes: Improved the configuration of job queues and fixed related issues.

Fixes and Updates for Battler State: Addressed issues in practical testing and refined the battler state management.

Refactor of Current Effects: Refactored how current effects are stored and managed. Moved current effects to state and resolved turn resolution issues.

Map Generation and Space Management: Improved the map generator to add empty spaces when out of view.

Behavior Selection and Shadow Rendering Fixes: Fixed issues with behavior selection and shadow rendering in battle states.

Party Leader Management Updates: Implemented changes for setting new party leaders upon defeat.

Stat Resolution Enhancements: Updated the resolution of stats, improving the mechanics of stat calculations.

PvP and Demo Battle Fixes: Made fixes specifically for arena PvP and demo battles.

State Management and Pruning: Improved state management, including pruning data when no longer needed by the system.

Species Data Addition: Added species data to the about page.

Rest & Defend Action Health Gain: Resting no longer increases health but does recover more stamina. Defending no longer recovers stamina.

Remade Companion Page: Used the new scene component to improve usability and performance of companion page.

Adjusted Radiant Overlay: This fixes an issue Firefox users had with viewing radiant companions.

Updated Tooltips: Tooltips have been replaced with a more modern library.

Gyroscope Support: The game can use a devices gyroscope to move parallax scenes around.

Websocket Connection Updates: Ensures websockets get cleanly disconnected at the end of every battle.

Improved Hitboxes and Rendering: Objects no longer appear to "float" regardless of their size and their hitboxes have been refined.

Added Global Sound - App can now maintain music across different pages and the settings control master, sound effects, and music seperately.

Enhanced Settings - Greatly improved the number of modular settings a user can use in both graphics and gamepad.

Wild Area Game Pad Support - Wild areas now support game pag usage. Full game pad support is in progress.

Virtual Joystick - Touch screen devices can control movement with a virtual joystick.

General Cleanups and Tweaks: Conducted cleanups and minor tweaks across various parts of the system.

Thank You!

Our first full calendar year with Mythaura has been one primarily focused on foundation-building. We're so excited to use these systems that we have built to create the content that players will engage with as they travel throughout Mythaura. Again, a heartfelt thanks to those who have supported us through all of this--we really couldn't have done it without you. We hope to deliver an experience that you'll want to revisit again and again.

As always: we'll see you around the Discord!