#and Data’s emotions ❤️

[deliciousangelfestival]

Did I Make You Proud?

Character: Spy!Bucky x Rogue!Spy Female Reader

Summary: Imagine being a rogue agent, relentlessly pursued by your irresistibly attractive former mentor, Bucky, who is determined to track you down.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky P.O.V

Bucky's gaze flicked up to the intercom as the voice crackled through, laden with stress. "Did you see her?"

He sighed, the weight of the crowded train station bearing down on him. "Too many people here," he muttered, his frustration evident in the terse response.

"I never thought she would betray us. We have to find her before they do," came the voice from the intercom, laden with frustration.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration mirroring the tone on the intercom.

It was understandable why tensions ran high in the spy agency; one of their own had gone rogue, becoming a fugitive and leaving chaos in their wake.

And to make matters worse, the rogue agent is you.

The senior agent, Bucky received a direct order to apprehend the rogue agent. He was the one who had trained and guided you.

The situation's urgency hit him like a wave as he grasped the gravity of the rogue agent's actions. You had obtained sensitive data from a secret base and were planning to sell it to another country, triggering a potential international crisis.

"BANG."

The explosion erupted from the toilet, sending shockwaves through the crowded area.

"KYAA!!!" Panic spread like wildfire as people scrambled everywhere except for Bucky.

He remained calm amidst the chaos, a knowing look in his eyes as he recognized the familiar tactic. He had taught you well – create a distraction but ensure no civilians get hurt. It was a motto they lived by.

As his colleagues and the soldiers mobilized to locate the source of the explosion, Bucky's focus was unwavering. His gaze swept over the frantic crowd until, finally, he spotted you.

There you were, a smirk playing on your lips as you sat inside the cafe directly across from him.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Bucky – relief at finally finding you, the rogue agent, mingled with disappointment and a touch of regret.

Despite the agencies hot on your trail, you exuded an air of confidence, leisurely sipping your coffee as if you hadn't a care in the world. Bucky's jaw clenched with determination as he observed you from afar, his fist tightening as he made his way towards your location.

As he anticipated, you had vanished from the cafe, but your signature perfume lingered in the air, serving as a tantalizing clue. Trusting his instincts, Bucky followed the scent until he spotted you boarding a train.

With a quickened pace, he hurried to catch up, his steps purposeful as he entered the same carriage as you. The doors closed behind them, sealing their fate within the confines of the train.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" the intercom crackled with concern.

Bucky's hand moved swiftly to remove the device from his ear, slipping it into his pocket as he met your gaze with steely resolve. "I found her," he declared, his voice firm as he prepared to confront the rogue agent face to face.

Bucky quickened his pace, determination driving his strides as he reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to the quiet area of the train.

"Stop what you're doing. Do you want to get caught and be a prisoner in another country?" he pleaded, his voice laced with urgency and concern.

You shrugged nonchalantly, seeming unfazed by the consequences. "As long as I get paid," you replied, a hint of indifference in your tone.

Bucky's grip tightened as he looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of recognition. "This isn't you," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.

Pushing away his hand, you retorted, "What happened to 'no strings attached'?"

Bucky grumbled in frustration, feeling the weight of his own words haunting him. Perhaps you were right; he shouldn't have let himself worry about you.

But memories flooded his mind – the nights spent together, sharing warmth on cold evenings, and when you pretended to be husband and wife. Those days held a special place in his heart, now overshadowed by your betrayal.

"You... you were different," he muttered, struggling to reconcile the person he once knew with the rogue agent before him.

With a smirk, you met his gaze defiantly. "Because of you and the agency pushing my limits, I've learned my true value," you declared, your confidence unwavering.

"I'm a good spy."

Bucky couldn't deny the truth in your words. Despite the circumstances, there was no denying your skill as a spy. You had learned from the best – him.

As tension crackled between them, a mixture of frustration, longing, and unresolved emotions hung in the air, a testament to the complex relationship they once shared.

Bucky's voice was stern as he demanded, "Where's the data?"

You met his gaze with defiance, a smirk playing on your lips. "Too late. Before you guys found me at the train station, I already handed it over to the buyer."

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air as Bucky processed the gravity of the situation. "Do you even realize what you've done?" he asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.

You shrugged casually, a flicker of intensity in your eyes. "Can't you see the big picture? If there's only peace, people like us won't exist. I'm just here to keep it alive," you retorted, your confidence palpable, starkly contrasting to the timid and quiet persona he once knew.

Bucky fell silent, taken aback by the transformation before him. You had evolved into someone both confident and alluring, your newfound demeanor leaving him both impressed and unsettled.

You sensed his internal struggle and couldn't resist teasing him further. "Did I make you proud?" you inquired, tilting your head provocatively and adding a coy "Sir?" to the end of your question.

A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you continued, "Or perhaps you'd rather catch me and handcuff me to your bed?"

Bucky's patience wore thin as he reached out, his fingers pinching your chin to meet his gaze. Leaning in closer, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss filled with unspoken tension.

The kiss spoke volumes, a collision of conflicting emotions – desire, frustration, and longing – all wrapped up in a single moment of intimacy.

As Bucky pulled away, his voice was low and authoritative. "Don't test my patience," he warned, his eyes burning with a mixture of warning and undeniable desire.

You let out a low, almost amused hum. "Hmm... I know."

The train whisked them away, racing across the bridge with breathtaking scenery flashing by. In a different circumstance, perhaps they could have appreciated the view together. But now, they were locked in a tense standoff.

"We should meet again," you remarked, breaking the silence.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You offered no explanation, but a sense of unease prickled at Bucky's senses. He tensed, feeling a presence behind him, and his suspicions were confirmed when he turned to find seven men poised for a fight.

"Really?" Bucky shot you a disbelieving look as you shrugged nonchalantly.

"I need something to stall the time. I'll see you again, Sir." You turned and bolted with that, leaving Bucky to face the onslaught alone. He braced himself, ready to take on the challenge.

The fight was fierce, a whirlwind of punches and kicks as Bucky engaged in a battle of wits and strength. Despite being outnumbered, his training and skill allowed him to emerge victorious.

As he dealt the final blow, the sound of a helicopter overhead drew his attention. Bucky sighed, realizing that this was your escape plan unfolding.

When the train finally came to a halt, Bucky found himself surrounded by his agency colleagues, their expressions a mix of disappointment and frustration.

"She got away?" one of them asked, voicing the collective sentiment.

Bucky could only nod grimly. "Yup."

"Shit."

The frustration simmered within Bucky as he slid his hand into his jacket pocket, feeling something unexpected. With a quick glance, he pulled out a small item, his cheeks flushing crimson as he recognized it. It was undoubtedly your doing, a teasing reminder of your audacity.

Despite his frustration, Bucky couldn't deny the thrill of the chase, the challenge you presented only fueling his determination to catch you.

With a silent vow, Bucky steeled himself for the subsequent encounter. He would find you; this time, you wouldn't slip through his fingers so easily.

🚁

As you reached the top of the stairs, panting slightly from the exhilarating climb from the moving train, thrill and nervousness danced in your veins. 

Clara, your partner in crime and the helicopter pilot shook her head in disbelief. "I knew you wanted to make a cool exit for your hot former mentor, but this has to stop," she chided a hint of exasperation in her tone.

"Climbing up from a moving train? You might as well have signed your own death warrant," Clara continued, her eyes wide with concern.

You flashed her a mischievous grin, trying to brush off the seriousness of the situation. "I just wanted to impress him," you admitted, your voice laced with a hint of sheepishness.

Clara sighed, knowing all too well how to handle your impulsive tendencies. "Maybe next time, just kidnap him and live on a private island. Then you two can live happily ever after," she suggested with a playful wink.

You chuckled at the absurdity of her suggestion but couldn't help but entertain the thought. "That's not a bad idea. I should save money to buy an island," you mused, already picturing the two of you lounging on a tropical beach, far away from the chaos of the spy world.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan character #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female!reader #spy!bucky barnes #spy!bucky

[luveline]

I love your writing sm!!! would you be willing to do something with Spencer where he calms reader down from a nightmare ? thank u so much!!! have a good day ❤️

thank you sm! ♡ gn!reader

cw drug use mentioned

In the dream, Spencer lives. 

Surprisingly. So many of your dreams are made of his demise. In one dream he gets killed in a cemetery, crying and alone and strapped to a chair. In another, a needle stays stuck to the crook of his arms as he slips into a too-heavy sleep. Sometimes he dies bleeding out from his leg, other times he makes it to the hospital long enough to feel the building crumble beneath him. 

You wouldn't want Spencer to stop telling you things, but every ragged chapter of his life acts as nightmare fuel. Every sentence, every line. Here he's lonely. Here he's afraid. 

Here, despite everything, he's alive, because this is the dream where you die first. 

You die like the snap of a firecracker hitting the ground and find yourself inverted, flinching up where gunpowder spilled down, your hand knocking into the soft of Spencer's stomach as you gasp for air. You're dead. You're dead, and Spencer's alone, and no one is going to look after him now. 

"Y/N?" His voice. The plastic and wood scrape as he grabs his glasses and shoves them on. "What? What's hurting?" 

You put your hand over your heart and will it to stop pounding so hard. It aches like a new bruise. 

"Baby," Spencer says softly, curling his arm behind the small of your back. He pulls your bodies together, tucking the sheets up your legs again with the other. 

"Bad dream," you say, wishing you'd woken crying. At least then you'd know what the emotion is under all your abject panic. 

"Just breathe… just breathe." He takes a slow, deliberate breath for you to follow. When he speaks, it's calm as the summer sea. "Another one. I'm sorry, you've had a lot of these lately, huh?" Spencer brings the hand furthest from you to your cheek, encouraging your cheek against his chin. "You want to tell me about it?" 

"I died." 

It must surprise him. For once, he doesn't have anything to say immediately. He turns his face in to kiss you, not fussy about where his lips fall. A slow, steadying kiss. 

"Those ones are some of the hardest," he says sympathetically. 

"I didn't… it didn't even matter. I hit my head and I woke up. But I…" How to explain it? "Spence, there was this split second where I thought I left you alone." 

"Don't worry about me," he says.

"But I do worry about you. I know you can look after yourself better, but– but people have let you down. I've let you down." 

Spencer's smile is audible, a lilt to the dulcet murmur he presses into your hair, "You're the last person I'd say let me down... You know, nightmares aren't scientifically quantifiable, there's no statistical data on what it means to have a bad dream, but. There are hundreds of thousands of books about it, and more than you'd think tend to agree that after you've had one, the fear remains. Like a bad cell. You can't remember it and it sticks around despite it." 

You wait for the silver lining. 

"So?" you ask. 

He chuckles quietly. "So, I know it sucks, but it's a good thing that you remembered it. Want me to tell you what the books say?" 

"About what it means?" you ask. 

"They say it's transitional. You're saying goodbye to something. Starting a new chapter." 

Spencer turns your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. Dead morning light floods the room like a splash of milk into tea, illuminating the small apples of his cheeks, the thick triangles of his lashes behind his glasses' lenses. He looks woefully handsome considering the hour, and, to your relief, he's completely unafraid. 

"Just don't say goodbye to me, okay?" he whispers.

You nod, fatigue pressing on your shoulders. 

Spencer gives you a quick, dotting kiss. "Thank you. Let's go back to sleep, yeah? Lay down." 

You curl up under his arm. His hand takes loop on your shoulder, drawing lazy, meandering circles until you're falling into a much quieter crop of sleep. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[blorbocedes]

Why is there such intense sexual tension between gp and max

I really think the meat of the dynamic is max can trust him to be honest with him, and in turn max can be his most unfiltered honest self.

the driver and race engineer dynamic is a very intimate one. if you think of the car and the driver as the horse, the raw power that wins the races, then your race engineer is your rider -- calm and firm in guiding you to victory. f1 is a huge team production, each driver has a whole factory of people behind him making sure everything goes smoothly. but during the race the driver's only direct connection to the team is the voice in his ear, relaying strategy, warning them of other cars and track limits, encouraging them and even admonishing. this is the man you trust with your life, literally, coming out of blind spots like out of the monaco tunnel and trusting your engineer to tell you whose behind you.

with max and GP, GP's been his race engineer since 2016. that's a very long time and a very long relationship. max is obviously redbulls golden boy and literally everyone's job in the team is to keep him happy, from his tp to helmut it's all praise (and he's doing an outstanding job to get it), but GP in a way is the only person who isn't and by the function of his job can't be a yes man to max. he has to relay him the truth. you'll see GP isn't often impressed by max, and even bets against him making pole. The guy who knows your data and braking points and how you keep crossing over track limits isn't gonna be too impressed by you even if you're god's gift to racing. He makes max earn his post race praise. He's even curt, and outright direct when max is whining on radio. Likewise, max knows he can be aggressive in high pressure situations, yelling at him to not talk to him in the braking zone and that GP can take handle him. There's trust in that too. And if he feels he went too far, he will sheepishly get GP ice cream post race. Their dynamic on radio is one that makes us the viewers we're witnessing a couple having a domestic tiff. that's because GP gives back as good as he gets. He doesn't coddle max, if max makes the wrong call then GP will call him out on it. my favourite radio is when max was yapping why didn't we do etc etc and GP was straight up do you want to switch jobs? how about you do your own next lap.

this is the man you can be your worst self in high stress situations to and he will take you as you are. that's basically a marriage.

obviously despite all the headache max causes, GP loves working with him. he literally said max is the driver he wants to retire with. he has a photo with max in his living room, instead of his wife 😭 likewise, max literally has a clause in his contract that he gets GP. max is someone who is loyal to a fault and GP's been with him since his very first f1 win. that's his emotional regulator baldie.

the sexual tension comes from the fact that GP is 17 years older than him and max wants to get rawed by him 🧑🏻‍🦲❤️😋

#max/GP #max verstappen #gianpiero lambiase #drivers and their engineers #blorbocedes ask

[tarjapearce]

Chapter 5: Another Pillar Crumbles

WARNINGS: Emotional distress, confrontations, awkward truth and talks, mentions of adoption, Implied mentions of abortion, character background, No Proofread.

Summary: Karma has begun it's harvest.

A/N: Thanks for the wait, had so much fun writing this one ❤️. Feedback is highly appreciated ☺️.

As much as hiding temporarily from society and their stigma seemed a too comforting getaway, the world and time didn't stop. Ever perpetual, ticking unceasingly through your daily basis. Withering and eroding everything within it's endless realm.

A pregnancy was just one of the many creative ways human beings had came up to measure the unstoppable force. Ten weeks. You were now ten weeks pregnant, even though baby bump was barely noticeable, you knew a creature grew and latched within. Depending completely on you.

Blissfully ignorant on the fact that you depended on many other things to keep you and itself alive. You sometimes yearned that blissful sort of cluelessness back. But plucky you had managed through the tides like an unwilling champ. Reluctant but victorious.

Alot was a limp and short statement of what you've gone through, but MJ, your rock, voice of hope and invaluable help have kept you afloat when you were drowning in a sea of uncertainty.

With a sigh and somehow nervous hands, you smoothened back the rebel baby hairs in the sides that stood proud and open to meet the air and sun. Image code still vividly present in the current underpaid job.

Once you were done looking less spooked and anxious, you entered your manager's office, to try and get some knowledge about the perks of your current condition and see if there was any changes, income wise. Maybe the benefits were as good as you've heard through indistinct conversations around the cafeteria, and mindless talk passing by your work station.

And perhaps you'd have the chance to actually increase a number on your paycheck or at least, see if you had any chances in that administration program.

Gotta dream a bit.

-----

Unlike the outcome of David and Goliath, David, meaning you, weren't able to defeat the giant behind the corporative desk and machines filled with shared data.

You didn't give details, just shared enough to get what you needed. Even though sharing pregnancy news before the twelve week mark was considered a tabboo and bad luck, it was merely out of precautions to deem the pregnancy certain and safe to continue.

Like an official confirmation since miscarriage lurked hard around during those weeks, you wanted to see if staying in Alchemax was worth the criminally offensive side eyes you'd get either from Dana or Miguel.

But this Goliath had been merciful enough to spare some slack and explain you a couple of tiny benefits that would serve somehow in a future. If you ended up being elegible for it that is.

Twelve weeks of paid maternity leave, protected job and reintegration to labor as soon as it ended. But even so, the talks about a raise were futile and the program had been postponed until further notice.

Optimism was lacking in big strides, not that you used it by feeling it constantly, but in this predicament you needed it. Specially upon looking at the expenses of giving birth to a baby the other day after MJ left.

Thousands after thousands over birth. If it wasn't for the community women care centers that helped you to ease the blows in your wallet, you'd be inevitably and irremediably financially fucked. Insurance could only cover up so much, and accepting aid from it's irresponsible sperm donor wasn't a choice.

Like if I would.

In truth, you hoped he'd forget about it and leave things as they were. It was clear Miguel didn't want you or his mistake snooping around his already tarnished illusion of a perfect man, for once you were mindful of his needs and kept yourself away in every possible chance, going to the extent to look up into his schedule to avoid him, even if accidentally for your mental sake.

The answer was clear so try and reason with him was a waste of breath. Not that you needed him, and if you did,  you'd get help somewhere else. Nueva York was full of willing hands to aid.

As soon as you came out from the manager's office, your phone buzzed, MJ's contact number shining in your screen as you took the device and opened her message.

Got some interesting adoption program's information you might like to take a look.

Just as she had promised, her help was unwavering, solid as the role she played in your crumbling life. Adoption didn't weight on your shoulders, after all, it was an all too familiar yet difficult old friend of yours.

Only one family from the previous five you had sojourned in had met the requirements for the paperwork, back when the sixteens were still a thing on you. But even so, the adoption wasn't available since mother was nowhere to be found to relinquish the full custody of your rights.

Eyes raked over and over the screen, rereading and learning unintentionally the message as your feet guided idly back to your work spot through the long and devoid of people hall, the sound of heels clicking echoed through closer and closer, but you didn't pay attention to the road ahead, until you collided with an unexpected someone. The smart device slipped off your hand to bounce on the floor.

"Shit-"

"No, no. Let me."

Dana wiggled her hands to prevent you from squatting as she quickly picked up the phone as she held a clipboard on the other hand. Her own meeting in the agro-market department had just finished, and she took the hall as a shortcut. Mind filled with mental notes of what she just discussed with her peers that quickly vanished upon stumbling on you.

Throat went immediately dry as the palpitations in your heart rumbled within the bone enclosure of your ribcage. Eyes darted downwards while accepting the trinket back, unable to meet her eyes; stomach churning at her undeserving and selfless act. Your eyes darted both ways of the hall, there was none around to prowl over the conversation that unavoidably was about to unfold.

You knew Dana was looking, seizing your presence with perusing eyes. Neither of you moved, either too unsure and stunned on what to do next, or too aware of what the accidental meeting epitomised.

Dana's lip twitched to speak but stopped, instead her hand rubbed her face, an habit Miguel had projected on her after so many years of living together.

Your jaw had clenched so hard your teeth ground together, breath hitched on on your windpipe. Palms began sweating, and still no visual contact.

Dana braced herself, and averted her sky blue eyes away from you for a second, only to land at your abdomen. The burn of her unceasing stare made you cover that area in a meek attempt to conceal your shame.

"Nine weeks, right?"

A shaky breath was released from you, to finally nod. Her shoes were the same as that fateful day you released her from her curse. Voice nearly a hushed whisper only you were able to hear.

"Ten, actually. But... I'm so sorry, Miss D'Angelo."

"Stop. Jesus, stop apologizing."

Blue eyes adorned with wispy eyelashes blinked away the emerging tears, to stare at your face.

Blameworthy, ashamed, confused and definitely scared. The remnants of her slap long vanished; and still you looked ready to take another.

"Sorry for the slap. Should've-" Dana swallowed with difficulty. The name in her mind brought too many memories that she still struggled to flush away out of her system through an emotional detox. Mess still way too piping hot to swallow. But even so, guilt from that slap had chipped away her conscience.

"Should've slapped Miguel again."

"It was never my intention to come between you two."

"I know. I" She paused before heaving a defeated breath, "I believe you. You didn't fight back. I wished you did though."

Of course you didn't, if one thing you were taught through your different stays at the fosters homes was to own your mistakes. Even if them costed you big time and consequences were hard.

"That way I wouldn't be feeling guilty for hitting you."

Dana's lips pursed once she locked eyes with you. Both pairs full of mutual pain and a twisted sense of understanding, empathy and a guilt. Her once misdirected hatred and resentment had returned to the original source, leaving her with a cautious and curious gaze when it came to you.

"You... Will you get rid of the baby?"

You had to blink a couple of times before eyes widened at her, to then look down. Letting the new wave of shame wash over you with its coldness. The windows rattled softly as a gust of air blew over them, dividing your attention in their direction for a second before returning to the woman before you.

"I-I tried."

Dana couldn't help but let the tears she was trying with all her might to keep inside to flow, quivering mouth covered with her dainty palm, while her perturbed gaze turned into a judging one that faded on your next words:

"But I couldn't. I... I can't." Another sigh, "I won't."

The brunette voice cracked as she wiped her eyes, "Why?"

"Not to spite you, that's for sure. I was too much of a coward to do so."

"Then why keep the baby? It makes no sense, unless-"

"No, no. Let me stop you right there, Dana."

She flinched at the way your voice pronounced her name. It wasn't disrespectful but rather firm, drawing a boundary she clearly was pushing by the implicit accusation between lines.

"I've worked in this place for two and a half years. In those years, I've never seen Miguel. Hell, not even you knew who I was until you heard my conversation with him in the parking lot."

Dana's throat also became arid upon remembering that all too vivid scene she hoped to forget one day.

"You really think I'd like to involve myself with him after what he did? Miguel never explained what truly happened. Hell, I was on contraceptives and he used protection, but here I am, knocked up. You really, really think I'd want someone like that?"

Dana kept wiping away her eyes the more she listened to you. Truth permeating her to the core, and it proved to be too much for her squishable heart.

"I don't, and I mean it. I don't know what kind of relationship you two had, but I'd never, ever would pursue something with a compromised man. Let alone with one that was about to get married! I just wanna be left alone."

Your hands moved while gesturing as Dana's hand raked a bit rough on her scalp. She wanted to rip her hair and cry until her tear supplies were dry. She had been the winner to wear the fool mask Miguel invested upon her.

"You think it's easy to see you around? Knowing that you'll be a mother of the man I loved?"

Although her words were clearly trying to provoke, you didn't bait into them, since you knew that she was also having issues assimilating these too hard to swallow pills.

"I know you're angry. I understand, but  what would you do if you were in my position? Let's stop being hypocritical and pass the blame ball to eachother for a moment. What would you do?" Dana's arms crossed on her chest, she was now the one unable to meet your eyes

"I'm not scared. I'm terrified! I wanted to disappear forever when I saw the results. But that won't solve shit. You think I don't feel bad? I feel dirty, ashamed, used even!" The hushed whispers evolved into a firmer tone

"Cause every time I see you, I feel like a fucking homewrecker! But I had no idea!" You hissed, trying to keep the conversation between the two of you, "And now I am to see how the fuck I'm gonna deal with all of this mess the coward of your ex did, cause he was thinking with his dick, until adoption comes."

"A-Adoption?"

The word alone had frozen the brunette's raging and conflicting emotions almost instantly.

"You're-"

"I'm giving the baby for adoption."

This made Dana stare almost too incredulous at you.

"A-Are you?"

Your head gave a brief nod.

"I promise that I won't come close to you or Miguel. I truly don't want anything to do with you or him."

"No, no.... You... You must keep the baby. I could never-"

"You could never, that's true! You. But not everyone wants to be or knows how to be a mother, Dana. I'm so sorry if you aren't able. I wished, believe me, I wished this" you pointed at your abdomen, "Was where it belonged. Inside you. Not me."

Dana's reasoning bubble had been popped with your words. An abysmal difference from your own progenitors. While yours had tried to strangle you in a frenzied and abstinence episode from her addiction, Dana's was brushing her hair and showering her in affection.

"Not everyone is a good mother. And keeping the baby to find out is not only selfish and stupid. But so very damaging, you have no idea" Your own voice cracked, trailing off  in a muffled whimper upon the last syllables, it took you some seconds to regain the strenght in your tinge, "That's why I'm giving it for adoption."

The pain behind your final choice prevented her from doing more questions. Your own musings had tugged  her heartstrings.

"I'm truly sorry you had to know this way. I wanted to tell you but, he always intimidated me."

Dana truly didn't know whether to thank you or shut you up, because every time you opened your mouth to speak, a new trait of Miguel she never knew and he never exhibited appeared. She had been gulled the past few months to believe that everything was going alright.

But she didn't need convincing words from others, not when she had experienced and heard in the very front seats, live and on spot, the true colors he hid underneath his sultry exterior.

She was about to marry a liar, deceiver, cheater and phony coward, that attempted to pay you to erase his biggest fuck ups. And now, said outcome gestated within you, growing stronger and taking shape with each passing day.

Dana wondered briefly if the baby would look like him, but the road ahead you had started to pave was everything but  easy. The implications of your disturbing awareness made it clear there was something else in between lines, but it would mean to push a boundary she had no right to cross.

Not when you were assuming the consequences, unlike Miguel, that had tried to talk her through it. Really believing he still had a chance to win her back.

Dana knew that there were times when Miguel thought her stupid, but bright enough to keep his ego stroked on the constant praise she gave at his intelligence, that rightfully had earned him a spot at the lab research department.

Her father, Darko D'Angelo, was one of the council members in Alchemax. One of the few that actually had a final say on everything. He'd demote Miguel to a lesser charge, but sadly, firing was not an option for him. The eldest O'Hara had proven to be one of the most proficient agents within.

Sadly, his personal life was an ugly and jagged mess, and if anyone knew, many things surely would change.

"I don't know the reasons, nor your circumstances, but good luck."

It was all Dana could say before leaving you alone in the hall. Each parting in opposite ways, the talk had been talked and hopefully this gave a better perspective on each. Your feet hurt from the standing.

She wanted a child, but you didn't. Yet was civil enough to empathize for a moment with you to not pry further behind your choices.

You returned to the reception and Dana to her office.

--

The elder men didn't understand why they were gathered in one of the meeting rooms, instead of a lab.

The projector was turned on as each was given a fresh copy of a paper file by Miguel. Some of the higher ups had greeted him with enthusiasm, others were genuinely confused at their presence there, but were polite enough to remain quiet and watch the exposition unfolding before them.

The Biosynthesis of Insulin Within The Human Body

The title said. The window's electric curtains were drawn, leaving the room in a dim light to redirect the focus back on the enlightened board.

Miguel stood proudly on a side, with a laser pen, ready to show his investigation through.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Thanks for making a time in your busy agendas to be here this evening."

The men smiled politely at him, one of them took a swig of the bottled water as Miguel continued talking.

"I've been working on this research on my own for quite a time. And now that it has reached it's completion, it's fair to share it with you. Let us begin."

The sterile air in the room was polluted by the variety of colognes trying to make their presence known, some smelled like expensive whiskey and cigars, others like sweat and anxiety, but most smelled like power. A smell Miguel sure believed it'd be better on him.

He was already the third in command in the lab, a manager of the sorts, but he wanted the chair the old retired man left vacant. That's where he felt more comfortable in.

Not his simple and secluded office, like the rest of workers. He deserved more, so it was his turn to get it. Miguel was set to get that chairman position, and his confidence only grew when he saw Darko among the powerful lot.

He started the exposition by giving a simple context that slowly and with the right words evolved into something that would definitely make Alchemax a main supplier to a bunch of pharmaceutical chains.

Miguel then explained the pros and cons, and how the pros weighed more than the cons. In simple words, how using a bacteria would make them richer.

And all thanks to him. Miguel's heart bounced in joy whenever he saw the higher ups discussing and making numbers, and nodding to eachother.

Almost there.

He could already feel the different airs of a new office in the upper floor, the vacant spot for a new assistant, and the new title in his paycheck.

He was already Dr. O'Hara, a PhD backing him up, hung on his dull white office wall.

By the time the presentation ended, the round of applauses filled the room. Miguel's lips stretched in a fake modest yet proud smile.

"In my long career years here in Alchemax, never have I known a collaborator that offers so much potential, like you do, Dr. O'Hara."

Miguel ignored the collaborator part and nodded politely at the chairman as they shook hands.

"It's one of the many projects I have under my sleeve, sir."

"Oh please, I'd be more than willing to put this one in my agenda. Have you presented this to your boss?"

Miguel stared at the shorter man, confusion fogging his mind.

"Excuse me, uh, what? What boss?"

"The Chairman from the Lab Research department."

An awkward titter escaped Miguel as he removed his glasses.

"I... I think there must be a mistake, as far as I know, the chairman position for the Lab department is still available, right?"

Most of the men before him frowned briefly to then chuckle, finally getting the hint at where his words and the whole thing was going.

"Oh no, Dr. O'Hara. That position has been already occupied by Dr. Delgado."

De todos los que pudieron elegir, escogen a ese pendejo... (From all they could've picked, they choose that dipship)

Miguel forced a gentle smile in his face, "Ah, I see. Excuse my confusion-"

"Still, I'm sure this project would make a fantastic addition to the main files in the headboard."

"We'll let you know about the upcoming meeting."

Darko spoke as Miguel tried with all his might to not look as rigid as the marble statue in the corner of the now emptying office.

Some even dared to pat his shoulder and congratulated him for being a remarkable employee. That only fueled his rage.

One of them, Sully McCain, the one that had fed his hopes up approached cautiously, with a sigh.

"I tried my best to suggest you-"

"Suggest!?"

Sully flinched visibly upon having Miguel’s glare on him.

"You think that we're all taken in consideration when it comes to big decisions? Ha..."

The elder man pulled a small whiskey container and took a nervous swig.

"That's not how it works, Miguel."

"You said that I was going to be the next chairman."

"That until the rest had a secret meeting and the new chairman for your department was picked."

Sully shrugged nonchalantly.

"I really tried to bring you in, but-"

"But what?! You think I worked on this to get a well done star on my fucking forehead, Sully?"

"I think you are starting to forget one little detail that can screw you over."

Miguel's hands fisted into tight balls in each side of his hulking and ready to pounce form.

"Are you threatening me, Sully?"

"No. I'm just reminding you that even though we're somehow colleagues, I can still fire you."

Sully didn't know if it was the alcohol pushing a bit of more bravado in his veins, or the constant push and trample he often received from the rest that finally made him lash out. Miguel's arrogance had been the last drop.

"But let's not dwell into it. I'm sorry that I couldn't fulfil your goal. But based on your reaction, I can tell you're not ready for such responsibility yet."

Pouty and meaty lips gaped in disbelief, Miguel could only watch Sully go, leaving him alone with his turmoil.

Without knowing, McCain's talk had touched a sensitive nerve within. A nerve that had him heaving infuriated breaths, baring his feet to none in particular but himself and his mind racing with so many things it was impossible to shut it off.

Fuck him.

Shaky hands squeezed the projector's remote a bit too tightly to turn it off, to then be passive aggressively placed where it belonged.

Paper files long forgotten on the desk, except for one. All of it a waste of his money. He threw one at the trash.

His resources, he tore another. But most importantly, his time. He slammed the rest of files to the trash.

All to waste. His shoulder's rose erratically as he closed a bit too forceful the briefcase. The insides of his cheek were chewed to the point of copper blooming in his taste buds.

The petty in him wouldn't share the project, in fact, he'd make sure to delete the emails with the digital copy he sent to the old bunch. If they wouldn't have him as an equal, they wouldn't have his ideas nor his intellect.

But Sully, oh fucking Sully McCain. How could he be so gullible enough to fall for promises of power when not even he was considered in the decision making of Alchemax. When he was mere a public figure that occasionally displayed the little power he had.

But how dared he threatening him? How that old sag of flesh and bones had dared to threaten with firing him?

One of his main pillars crumbled, the opportunity of growth he was promised when he started working for the multinational, laid shut in a casket, that he was forced to bury, since the rest just gave him a pity but mocking look.

He was the fool for them, a buffoon to believe in such politician-like premises. And now, he was left empty handed, intellectually drained and physically strained.

Idle walks wired his way to the parking lot. Steps nearly turned into jogs, he needed to get away from that office and from the building. His car came into view but also something else. You.

Too absort with the bagel in your hand and eating against your car's door that didn't notice his glaring across the parking lot. Eyes raked over your stomach.

Have you gotten rid of it? Probably. You couldn't also fail him in being even more stupid, but a little voice in his head, echoed inside his mind with a simple word.

Karma.

He scoffed while deactivating the alarm in his car.

He didn't believe in such foolishness. To what people called karma, he just called it people being stupid and taking the wrong decisions. Maybe he was stupid to believe that a weakling in the chain of command would get him places instead of trusting in his instincts.

But the adventurous and subversive part of his brain that harbored his intrusive thoughts, wondered if everything was more than a coincidence.

It is not.

It was not. He refused to believe in anything that wasn't measured, quantifiable or supported by facts.

You had supported every single word that came out that pretty mouth he enjoyed devouring, but that now bit him and his ego so hard that he could still feel the wound pulsating and

He wasn't whoring around like you assumed. That's why he had Dana for. He was selective, even when it came to women, and to his luck, you had been exactly just that. His type. Gorgeous and ready to get what you wanted.

It only added a new wave of heat to his already scorching fury.

You weren't his karma. And certainly didn't believe in such buffoonery that had people acting righteous in order to avoid it.

No, the people he had the mistake to confide in were simply morons to not take him instead of that Delgado guy. Aaron Delgado. He had worked with him before, and if there was something life could give Miguel some credit for, was that he actually worked unlike the bastard that surely had to sell out either his ass or his competence to get that position.

The bootlicker could finally brag about it to the rest of the lab. The briefcase was tossed in the passenger seat, while his eyes remained on you.

You looked concerned, but the little piece of bread smeared in something sweet seemed to comfort you enough while you now scrolled through your phone. Cheeks a bit chubbier than the last time he recalled, a natural process of pregnancy, but even so, you looked good, lovely even.

He glared.

You'd get rid of it, he knew so. You had to. Even if the rest of his life was taking a sour turn, he knew you would get what you needed to live your life the way it was.

If he could, he'd pat himself in the shoulder for such feat. If he was a different kind of man, he wouldn't even had offered his help. You got inside your car while taking a call.

He huffed, and got inside into his. He had to pack in and return to his old place. Roomier and more to his likings, secluded from prying and judging eyes.

Maybe one day this whole fiasco would be forgotten and he'd find a better position within the Alchemax hierarchy.

But right now, he needed to get some plastic containers to start officially his move out. Even though relearning how to manage on his own proved a tiny inconvenience, he was more than capable of surviving alone.

His engine purred alive, and he drove off, hoping that Dana's place was alone. He didn't have the mind for her accusing yapping.

But little did Miguel knew that life had him on his sight, and karma had already indicted him. And he was found guilty.

---

Taglist:

@death-moth-art @miss-taura @serpentstarr @randomnobody187   @8xbygirl   @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @katitakenway @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiix @taeecups @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog   @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @damhanallagorm @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob @aockskcw @ittybxttykxttytxtty @smartyren

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara angst

[musesandmonsters]

*rubs hands together* Right. We're doing this.

or, My Very Serious Attempt At Analysing The Billentines.

"BILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?" - Gods, he's even worse than Stan. Jack of NO Trades, Master of PUN. (Not the actual intent here, but if you add a comma, it almost sounds like someone else is asking him out. In cute-sy speak. "Bill, you go out with me?!?! Pwease?")

"I'VE GOT MY ❤️EYE❤️ ON YOU" - Aww, his eye is so expressive. Also love the way he's just... sitting on the ground like that. His base is so thin, it's no wonder why he needs to prop himself up with his little noodle leg. Like a reverse kickstand.

"YOU'RE ACUTE-Y" - Bill torments his friends with terrible, nerdy geometry puns Confirmed. Stanford Filbrick Pines PhD x 12's dream partner amiright？

"I LIKE YOU FOR SOME REASON" - *apologetically glances towards Ford* What reason, Bill? You can confide in us. Or perhaps you don't know...

"LET'S GET ILLUMINAUGHTY" - HE REMOVED HIS BOWTIE WTF-I-I didn't even think that was possible. Welp, you learn something new every day. ...And, are those his cheeks? I’ve always assumed that his whole surface changes colour whenever he is feeling a particularly strong emotion. Huh.

"I'M BROKEN. WANNA FIX ME?" - ...now you're just mocking us. If this ends up spreading to the wider fandom- Oh. Oh dear. It already has. Well played, Hirsch. In all seriousness though, this one is surprisingly introspective of Bill. Has he been doing some postmortem soul-searching? Read a few self-help books? Perhaps Frills was the one who first suggested that he write his own book as a means of reaching a state of inner catharsis...Or maybe it’s just a reference to how Stan literally shattered his face before killing him.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" - See my previous post. Long story short, he stopped time for a reason. But. Also. He looks depressed. No offence, of course. (Is the floor comfortable? From data gathered during the period of my life that I spent as a Weird Human Child With Weird Human Quirks, I have come to the conclusion that the floor is not, in fact, the most comfortable of places to lie down and ponder one’s existence, but you do you I guess.)

"I SECRETLY COLLECTED YOUR SWEAT IN A JAR AND ACCORDING TO EXTENSIVE LAB TESTING. WE HAVE AN 88.3% PHEROMONE COMPATIBILITY MATCH" - Bill has pheromones. 88.3%...Is there a significance to this number? Does Bill Cipher even know, or care, about basic lab safety and scientific accuracy these days? The answer is a resounding “No. Definitely not. Absolutely not.”

"THEY CALL ME...THE LOVE TRIANGLE" - How To Become Besties With Mabel Pines In One (1) Quick & Easy Step. But you better watch out Bill, the Love God will probably be filing a lawsuit against you for Stealing His Look...and a minor case of Very Intentional And Blasphemous Blasphemy.

…

Whew. Done. Overanalysis is to me what Ichor is to the Greek Gods.

#gravity falls #gf #bill cipher #stanford pines #ford pines #stanley pines #stan pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #billford #the book of bill #book of bill #bill ci the triangle guy #bill cipher analysis #gravity falls analysis #character analysis #valentines day #happy valentine's day #Billentines #alex hirsch #overanalysing #I’m having far too much fun with this #sad billy boy

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi again! Here's the second Henry Sherlock X Peaky idea I had if you wanted! It would be a Sister Holmes X Tommy Shelby where reader is Tom's secretary and has just stated dating him but hasn't told her family yet because she hasn't seen them in a while. Then maybe one day a girl (badly disguised as a boy) is caught snooping around the betting shop and as Arthur takes her to Tom's office for questioning the reader immediately clocks it as her little sister who a agreed to spy for Sherlock. Then reader finds him and is berating him for putting Enola in danger while Sherlock is mad about her ruining their cover because he's investigating Tom for a case and as their arguing the reader says she knows Tom didn't do it because he was with her at the time (maybe she reveals the hickies) and Sherlock just freezes and goes into big bro mode while the Shelby family is trying to figure out what's going on because for once they didn't commit this crime and they haven't heard about the readers family yet. And yeah! That was the other idea😂 idk which to send in so you can choose which you'd rather do! Feel free to change anything about them too! I just desire some Sherlock x Peaky goodness 😂 ❤️❤️ also I hope those weren't too long I just didn't know how to explain them shortly!

Have a great night/day/time! ❤️❤️ and remember: GO YOU!!

Hey Love,

Hope you enjoy this and thank you for waiting so long! Was away on vacation (realized I didn't post that I was away.) Thanks again for these requests! they were so fun!!!

Warnings: Mention of child trafficking/conflict between family / peaky blinders-related themes

You were tired after being up all night. The conditions were nothing to complain about though. You lay in bed thinking about the chaos that surrounded your boss, and your relationship to him. You knew he wasn’t always a good man. But just like the morning sun streaming through your curtains, your mind was hazy. 

This feeling was not something you had experienced before. Complete ease. You were relaxed when he was around, and you even enjoyed being around his family. The feeling was addictive and considering the family you were born into it wasn't a mystery how you had ended up with such an appetite. 

While the Shelby family could match your folks for chaos, they had a consuming warmth about them that was foreign to you.

You thought long and hard on your way to the betting shop. This emotion could be a result of lovemaking, you knew enough about brain chemistry to know that there was a scientific side to these things. But why were you so happy the rest of the time? Why were you becoming so attached to him and his family? 

You got to the betting shop and were thankful to see tea brewing in the kitchen upstairs. You poured a cup and grabbed a muffin from the counter before settling in at your desk. 

Your mind was finally distracted from trying to sort out your feelings. Relief flooded you as you tied your hair out of the way and dug into the various file folders. You were doing your favorite, well, second favorite thing. Analyzing data for patterns. This particular situation was close to your heart you wanted to find the evidence as quickly as possible. 

You were so consumed with compiling evidence that you didn't even notice that something had kicked up in the betting shop until Arthur had dragged the commotion to the front of your desk. 

He held a girl dressed in boy's clothes by the collar of her shirt. The girl was young with a face that resembled yours a great deal. Your stomach dropped and you weren't sure if you wanted to shout at him to take his hands off of her or die of embarrassment. 

Your own appearance was embarrassing enough, your hair was tied up in a scarf, and your thick-rimmed reading glasses probably only made your eyes look even wider than they were. 

“Enola?!” You hissed. Your whole nervous system kicked into high gear. She could have been killed. Arthur could have killed your baby sister. 

You stood up and Arthur was smart enough to release his grip on her. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She looked up at you with sad eyes, a trick that had been abused many times over the years of broken dolls and colored pencil scribbles on the pages of your books. 

“Arthur?! What on earth-” Polly shouted from upstairs. 

“Eh - Looks like it's being handled,” Arthur called back, giving you a wink. His face told you that he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling. Older sibling to older sibling, he was going to let you handle your sister. Rather than the alternative, which would have been to put her in the cellar till Thomas got back. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“Enola what the fuck.” Your voice was low and she gave up on looking sad. 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and you fought the urge to slap her. She gave you a meaningful look and slowly said “It’s family business” 

Arthur snorted slightly. Polly was coming down the stairs. 

“I called Thomas. Now what is going-” She started but you cut her off. 

“Enola, why are you here, I trust them with family business.” 

“Well, you shouldn't.” She snorted and you hated the arrogance that was radiating off of the girl. This attitude and performance lead you to the conclusion that Sherlock must have sent her. She was always hungry for his approval. 

“What does Sherlock want with them?” You asked firmly. Her eyes widened slightly but she brushed it off. 

“How long have you worked here?” She said giving you a cold look. 

“I’m the one interrogating you.” You reminded her. “Now where is Sherlock? I’ll just ask him myself.” 

Just then as if summoned he came through the doorway with Thomas. Your temper flared up and you gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself. 

“Could have just called me.” You said trying to keep the anger out of your voice. 

“You can’t really be trusted on this one.” He said in his usual unbothered tone. You knew that this mess was clearly for an ongoing case and that because you were employed here you couldn't be involved. But it hurt non the less. 

“Right.” You said narrowing your eyes. “Get it over with. Now.” You demanded, unsure if Arthur took a step closer toward you in an effort to show solidarity or if it was in case you ended up being a threat to the family. 

“Well, I’ve been employed by a family to investigate the Shelby family here. Yesterday it became an active murder investigation..” 

You watched an expression cross Thomas’s face and you wondered if he lied about that part of his life being packed away. You caught a look of confusion on Polly’s face that quickly turned into a stony mask. She didn't know what this was about, but she’d turn on you if it was necessary. 

“What family and when?” You said sharply. You felt Thomas’s cold eyes stay locked on you. 

“Harris, I placed the time of death around 8pm.” He bit back. 

“We were at dinner, I can account for his whereabouts for the whole evening. Before you accuse me of lying, I’ve been looking through all their books and paperwork.” You picked up the papers you had been collecting your findings on. You almost wanted to laugh at your luck, for once you had the upper hand. 

“Your employer didn't take too kindly to us after we refused an offer they made regarding the children at the orphanage.” Sherlock’s face paled slightly. “I’ve got more than enough evidence through the paperwork here to put them away for life. Human trafficking.” 

You both entered a famous Holmes staring contest and he knew that he’d messed up. You weren't expecting him to look so angry though. Sure when you were children he would get mad like this. You hoped he was angry at the horrible crimes being committed but something in your stomach said otherwise. 

You wanted to break and look to Thomas. You suddenly became aware yet again that your hair was messy and you were still wearing your glasses. You normally always took them off when someone was approaching. Your cheeks got slightly pink at the thought of him judging you. 

“The real question is what will we do to bring them down,” Polly said trying to break up the tension. 

“Why this?” Sherlock’s voice cut like a knife as he gestured to the room.  

“We can discuss this later.” He didn't budge and you were grateful that Polly started to pull Enola up the stairs. 

“Come let's get you some tea and a snack,” She said quietly. Polly shot Arthur a look over her shoulder. He gave you a reluctant look but followed her out of the room. 

Thomas stayed against the wall looking as relaxed and bored as he always did when in the company of outsiders. 

“Why them?”Sherlock repeated once he realized Thomas wouldn't be leaving, and you realized it was the same question that had been nagging you all morning. 

“They make me happy. He makes me happy.” You said quickly. 

“They are criminals.” 

“These are hard-working people. You snoop around if you like, but you won't find anything criminal here.” You knew this because you handled the transition of the business yourself. 

“I don't like it.” He said firmly and the emotion he was giving off finally made sense. He wasn't one-upping you, he was trying to protect you. 

“You wouldn't like it if it was anyone else either.” You said with a small smile finally understanding. “I’m sure we can help each other with this?” You gestured to the paperwork. 

“Of course.” He nodded and came to stand next to you. Just like that things fell into their usual flow,  you explaining a pattern and him trying to prove you wrong to help narrow it down. You and him went back and forth at a rapid pace and within a few moments, he was in agreement with you. Just then you heard Enola speak. 

“Did I miss all the good stuff?” She asked Thomas and you looked up, breaking your concentration. He gave her a small smile. Once seeing his friendly nature you went back to pulling the last of the stolen documents you hadn't examined yet. 

“I think they have most of it sorted,” Thomas responded. 

“Damn.” Enola sighed. “Was it cool? I bet it was cool.” 

“Very.” Thomas’s response caught you off guard. 

“Sorry about your shop - and everything.” She said in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

“It’s alright. Feel free to stop by anytime.” You watched Enola’s face light up at his words. While they were legal on paper, you knew this was a dangerous place and probably always would be. Was Sherlock's world any different? As long as the family kept her safe she would be fine you reassured yourself. 

“Thanks.” She held out her hand to him.

“Enola.” 

“Thomas.” 

They chatted and your heart got a little bit softer the more they spoke. 

“This is enough to take to the inspector.” Sherlock finally said officially letting you win in his own way.

Your eyes snapped up and looked to Thomas, he was listening to something Enola was explaining. He gave you a nod before looking back at your little sister. 

“Excellent - erm Thanks.” You said not sure how to proceed with things. “I know they have a rough history. But so do we.” 

“You and Enola are my responsibility. I’ll be around.” He gave you a long look before standing up. He shook hands with Thomas and you walked him and Enola to the front door. You said your goodbyes and watched them hail a cab. 

Once they were on their way you took a few deep breaths before going back into the shop. You took your hair down and tucked your glasses into the pocket of your sweater. 

After another moment you went back inside to apologize. 

You came back in and heard their voices from the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like they were filling John in on what he had missed. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like watching a machine or something.” Thomas said and you weren't sure how you felt about his words. You were a receptionist on paper, you could have done many things with your life. But this job was invisible. No one bothered you, no one compared you to either of your big brothers. It was comfortable. When Thomas asked you to take a look at things you were simply going to give him your findings so he could bring those bastards down. You didn't want credit or publicity. You certainly didn't want him to see you as that nerdy girl with glasses who had so often been belittled. 

“Machine or not, she’s one of them. She’s handled everything! She could take us down any moment - you just can’t-” Polly hissed and you felt her words cut through you like hot knives. 

“I’ll handle it.” Thomas cut her off darkly and you felt like you had been dunked into cold water. 

“Tom - at least hear her out. Not like they treated her nicely. Maybe she’s different?” Arthur said in a pleading tone but there was no response. 

You knocked on the door frame to announce your presence. Sharp eyes landed on you and you took a breath trying to look composed. 

“Walk me home?” You asked Thomas and he looked at you for a long moment as if he was studying something strange in a museum. He gave you a nod and took your arm. 

He didn't say a word the whole way back. You felt his eyes land on you periodically and each time your heart rate sped up. These were last looks and you could feel parts of you start o spin out of control. 

You opened the door to your flat with shaking hands. Once you pushed it open the stuffy air made it even harder to breathe. He shut the door and locked it, the sound making your chest constrict even tighter. You felt like you were being suffocated, but now wasn't the time to show such emotions. 

“Why did you help us?” The question was simple and you were relieved he was going to hear you out, even if he just had the patience for a fraction of the story, it would lessen the burden on your chest significantly. 

“You needed help. You wanted to be better.” It was hard to get your voice up above a whisper. Your mind flashed to all the times you wondered about him and his family and why they would be converting their business over to be completely legal in the first place. They would reach much farther opportunities being shady. What was in it for them? But there was always something shining in Thomas’s eyes that answered your question. Pride. He didn't care about making more money at this point. He cared about his family being respected after a hard life of being dismissed and shit on. 

You remembered the various balls and social events you had been forced into at Mycrofts side. All the men that had tried to take your hand in marriage. All from grand wealthy families that had started much like Thomas had. It was unavoidable. You thought about how your life would have been as a wife instead of a gangster's girlfriend. 

“You could have turned us in any time. Given your bothers the tip-off”

Brothers plural. So he knew Mycroft too. Fuck. 

“Why would I?” You mumbled feeling defeated. “They care about themselves. Well, not Sherlock, he cares in his own way. Enola is just a kid still. Mycroft only cares about himself.”

“He hasn't pressured you for information on us?” 

“We would have to talk for him to do that. As far as he knows I’m a “worthless spinster living within the dregs of society.” You mocked his voice feeling frustrated. If his existence was the thing to fuck this up for you, you would find a way to make him pay for it. 

“Why didn't you tell me about your family?” He was still as cold as you expected him to be but there was a slight toe of hurt in his voice. 

“Well, there's the Holmes family that everyone sees and then the other side. I just - I really like it here. Your family is - more - they like me. They seem to enjoy having me around. It’s not a big competition all the time. And then you -” Your voice cut and tears started to become unavoidable. 

“Well, nothing bad has happened.” he shrugged. “Mycroft certainly doesn't know we're together.” He said with a smile. You wanted to know how he knew that.

“Everything was destroyed anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as you can see no one listens to me anyway.” 

“I do.” He said and pulled you against him into a tight hug. 

_________________

He proposes shortly after.

Mycroft finds out and needs to be taken to the hospital because he thinks he's having a heart attack

Sherlock randomly shows up at Arrow House while You are shopping with Enola. Examining the whole house while Tommy smokes and follows him. Eventually, Sherlock agrees that this is a fine house for you to run. That if Thomas fucks up in any way that Sherlock would kill him and that Sherlock was sure he wouldn't get caught. They shake on it.

They end up working together occasionally. Enola becoming very attached to Esme & Polly. Sherlock eventually becoming fond of the family and occasionally accepting a dinner invitation when he had time.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #Sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #Holmes Sister #enola holmes

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hi!

For the prompt requests...I'm thinking "I'm sorry, I had to" with Hound maybe 👀 or Cody as an alternative ❤️

hello roz my dear. thank you for this prompt!! I wanted desperately to write for Hound for this, but Cody came in and said "nope, this one's mine" so here we are. hope you enjoy!

First Kiss - Cody

Summary: You're injured. Cody can't risk losing you without telling you how he feels.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, fluff, confessions

Word Count: 1k

dividers by: me, @saradika, and @dystopicjumpsuit in that order <3

As a starship technician, you don’t often travel to the frontlines. You support your boys in yellow from the Negotiator, repairing the clones’ gunships, the Jedis’ hyperdrive rings, and other engineering tasks that sometimes fall through the cracks. While you’d technically been combat trained when you enlisted with the GAR, that had been ages ago. You’ve never had a need to brush up on your skills. In effect, the GAR viewed you as a civilian engineer, not as a soldier, and so didn’t feel the need to press your training. 

Maybe they should have. 

Because while you don’t go to the frontlines, today the frontline has come to you. 

Explosions rock the Negotiator. Tremors rumble up through the durasteel floor into your body, already panicked as it is, as you pelt full-tilt down a side corridor. Your blaster is clutched in sweaty palms. You need to reach the hangar bay. You’ve been working on some modifications to the gunships to make them quieter, stealthier, more efficient—if that data is destroyed or, even worse, stolen, several months of your work goes down the drain. You may even be fired if the Separatists use the data against the clone army.

But in reality, that’s not what you’re worried about. No, you’re worried about Cody. You know him; he’s out there at the front right now, leading his men by example. It’s part of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He cares for his men—and in the end, that depth of emotion may be his downfall. Kark, you should have told him how you feel. 

You sprint past dozens of troopers running in the opposite direction. As you near the hangar, one of the men stops you, yanking you to a halt. 

“Hangar’s compromised!” he shouts over the blaring klaxon. “Come with us! Commander’s orders!” 

That gives you pause. Meeting the helmeted gaze of the trooper with wide eyes, you flounder for a moment. Another explosion shakes the ship. You stumble, the trooper’s grasp the only thing keeping you upright.

“Where’s the Commander?” you shout. 

His hesitation tells you all you need to know. Pulling yourself out of the trooper’s grip, you continue on your mad dash to the hangar, its state of damage be damned. Thankfully, none of the rest of the men stop you, and at last, you reach the hangar entrance. 

The entire space is engulfed in an inferno. Heat snarls at you as the door opens, before the metal screeches to a halt halfway, jammed. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you step over the threshold. 

You practically live in this hangar. You know exactly where your workstation is, how to get to it, where everything is within your toolbox. This is a space you could walk through in your sleep—yet as you squint against the sting of smoke and dodge flames that seem to leap at you, panic begins to build in your chest in earnest. Because Cody is somewhere in all this carnage, too. You can’t save both your work and your commander. 

You couldn’t live with yourself if you let him die. 

Your lungs scream for air. With a terrified whimper, you gulp in a deep lungful. Immediately you begin to cough, the smoke burning into your body. Turning in a circle, you attempt to squint through the smoke. The heat grows by the minute and becomes increasingly oppressive. Your knees feel weak. But still you stagger forward. Blind and lost, you cry with a cracked voice for Cody. 

You trip. Knees crack against the floor. Hacking, you peer through the smoke with watering eyes. Is that a person coming toward you? 

As your vision goes dark, the last thing you see is a pair of hands reaching for you and a familiar golden visor.

When you wake, you’re in the medbay. You can tell before you even open your eyes, just based on the sterile scent of antiseptic tickling your nose, and the hushed, rhythmic beeping of several medical devices. 

Eyes fluttering open, you squint against the bright white light reflecting off equally bright white walls. It hurts to breathe, but as you take silent stock of your body, nothing seems dangerously injured. No casts, no splints. Just a few bandages over what you assume are burns.

“Cyare,” a familiar voice says, full of relief. 

You turn and meet Cody’s eyes. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, a long-dried bloody split in his lip, soot and ash coating his normally pristine armor. He sits next to you on a small stool, his elbows resting on his knees, one of his feet bouncing incessantly. But his worried expression melts into something calmer, softer as he takes in your conscious form.

He half-stands, brushing his fingers over your forehead gently, and then leans down. Though logically you know what’s about to happen it’s still a surprise when his lips meet yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You press your face up to his, meeting him, and you both hold there for a moment before he pulls away with a shuddering breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hand sliding down to grasp yours, “I had to. You scared me.” 

“M’sorry,” you mumble, mind hazy with his kiss. Your tongue is thick and dry. Nearby, one of the medical devices jumps in its rhythm, the beeps coming faster. 

He lowers back onto the stool. “What were you thinking?” 

Grimacing, you drop your gaze. “It’s stupid.” 

“Tell me,” he says, voice soft and kind. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit in a whisper. 

His amber eyes widen in surprise. “Cyare.” 

“Told you it’s dumb.”

Shaking his head, he huffs an incredulous chuckle. He inhales deeply, runs a hand through his dirty hair, and fixes you with a look so fond that your heart squeezes.

“I love you, you know,” he says. 

The medical device goes crazy now, matching the way your heart stutters in your chest. “I- I love you, too.” 

The smile he gives you makes all the pain, all the panic, worth it. 

Liste de Ragu: @the-hexfiles @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @dreamie411 @bobaprint @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

#commander cody x reader #cody x reader #the clone wars #tcw cody x reader #rhiplies #rhiwrites #first kiss prompts

[altocat]

Hey Alto, I am not feeling the best, so I was wondering if I could ask you for some wholesome Miniroth + Team Glenn hcs where they let him experience normal kid things? 🥺💔

Hope you feel better! Get some good rest, anon ❤️

All of these are subject to change depending on the direction of the story lol

Sephiroth and Glenn are probably the closest, though they are constantly arguing. For as much as they yell at each other, bicker, and butt heads, Sephiroth secretly likes when Glenn gives him special attention, and inwardly covets Glenn's approval.

Sephiroth is also close with Lucia, as she seems to most outwardly vocal about the fact that he's still a kid with specific needs to be met. She tends to dote on him the most, easing some of Sephiroth's emotional void when it comes to maternal warmth.

Matt relies more on logic than emotion and there isn't that interpersonal closeness so much as a deep mutual respect between him and Sephiroth. Some of the lessons he imparts onto Sephiroth influence Sephiroth's personal battle tactics as an adult.

Sephiroth sleeps away from the trio most of the time whenever it comes time to call it a day. He always keeps his distance. Lucia pesters Glenn to invite Sephiroth over to roll out his sleeping bag next to them, as it's clear that the kid probably doesn't feel like he's truly part of the group. Sephiroth very happily accepts the offer.

Glenn brought snacks for the trip to the island, but he wastes pretty much ALL of them because he keeps giving them to Sephiroth to try. Sheltered brat's never had a potato chip. A tragedy.

Matt and Sephiroth work together to put hunting traps all over the island to keep the monsters away. 90% of this involves Glenn getting caught in them and the other 10% is Sephiroth freaking everyone out by suggesting that they eat what they catch.

It's an island. There's probably a beach episode. Just sayin.

Glenn sits Sephiroth down and explains the birds and the bees, since Sephiroth actually seems pretty clueless about the adult world. He then teasingly suggests that Sephiroth goes and hits on Lucia, even offering personal pickup lines. Sephiroth gets flustered and butchers the entire delivery, only for Lucia to quickly round on Glenn for trying to corrupt the baby.

Matt shows Sephiroth the more swampy areas of the island in order to record more data on the wildlife. They both end up catching frogs together for 90 minutes.

Glenn teaches Sephiroth swear words under the guise of this being "how adults talk". Lucia smacks him again.

AU where they collectively decide to just adopt Sephiroth and now he has three parents who love and adore him and nothing bad happens ever the end.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephcanons #sephiroth #lucia lin #glenn lodbrok #matt winsord #ffvii ever crisis #ever crisis #first soldier #ffvii first soldier #ff7ec

[fardreamer]

SENGEN HEADCANONS

note: there are spicy headcanons in this :)!

general:

❤️ senku sometimes is messy when he starts tinkering and experimenting. gen often sneaks in behind him and puts things away as senku keeps moving around.

❤️ as stated in another post of mine, senku is an aggressive big spoon cuddler with gen. once he gets settled and is comfortable, he’s not moving. gen pretends to hate it but he does love it.

❤️ gen is phenomenal at back massages.

❤️ senku, when cuddling, prefers to lay atop gen. gen loves it because it means he gets to kiss senku a little easier, play with his hair, and tell him how cute he is.

love languages:

*note: i make a distinction here between how they prefer to receive love, and how they prefer to give love. i know not everyone perceives love languages that way.

🌼 gen, as anyone can imagine, loves telling senku how intelligent and beautiful he is. he saves the sweeter compliments for when they’re alone, but will proudly proclaim how much he loves senku (especially if it’s to embarrass him). his second is physical touch, followed by quality time. he actually prefers physical touch to receive love.

🌼 senku, on the other hand, is strongly split between acts of service and physical touch to give love, which means gen and senku unintentionally spend their days with passing pats to the back, stray kisses, standing as near to one another as they can, etc. that is how he prefers to give love. he claims he has no preference on how he receives love, but gen can tell that he enjoys spending time together, even if it’s just gen napping near him while senku works.

🌼 being that love languages are somewhat like data points, which clear parameters for what constitutes each one, senku was surprisingly on board with love languages and makes a point of meeting his “goals” of giving and receiving love each day. the power of science.

emotional:

❤️‍🩹 as smooth and well put together gen can be, he does need more consistent attention than senku realized. in the beginning of their relationship, there were plenty of fights and miscommunications because gen felt unloved or ignored, and senku was wrapped up in whatever new goal he had in mind.

❤️‍🩹 similarly, senku felt some tension whenever gen chose to spend time with others. not that he was particularly jealous, only in that he hadn’t realized how much he’d come to enjoy having gen by his side, even for mundane tasks.

❤️‍🩹 both are fierce secret keepers. gen was the first to talk, and confided in senku some of his biggest fears. that opened the door for senku to do the same, as sharing his vulnerabilities do not come easily to him whatsoever.

spicy:

⭐️ gen, initially, thought that he would be a more dominant top with senku and assumed that his lack of experience would mean he needed a lot of guidance. turns out, senku needed guidance in being dominant and topping, because he easily fell into that headspace.

⭐️ both of them are switches. just depends on the day. gen prefers bottoming and senku prefers topping.

⭐️ senku is a service top, through and through. gen tries to get him to be a little more selfish but it rarely works.

⭐️ gen loves the spectacle and drama of cute lingerie and visual aids. senku didn’t understand it until gen started wearing his favorites (particularly, a cat costume).

���️ while he may never actually verbally admit this, senku’s goal during sex is to make sure gen cums twice. if he doesn’t, he feels a bit like a failure, despite gen’s satisfaction.

⭐️ gen adores edging and extended foreplay. senku loves it the most when gen is submissive and bottoming.

#sengen #sengenheadcanons #dcst sengen #dcst #dcst gen #dcst senku #spicy sengen #drst #dr stone #drst sengen #drst asagiri gen #dsrt ishigami senku #senku ishigami #asagiri gen

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Trying to cook their favorite dish (to varying levels of success) + nathan? ❤️❤️❤️

Sure thing!

Nathan isn't a bad cook, but with Kyoko around to hand the day-in and day-out operations, he just passes on it most days. Still, with you spending more and more time at the facility, cooking meals for the both of you, Nathan finds himself wanting to do something nice for you in turn.

He tells himself over and over that it's not a big deal, that your favorite dish is something that he can easily glean from your search data, that adding the ingredients to his monthly delivery order really isn't a big deal.

Because that's all it is on a surface—really not a big deal.

He isn't even going to bother with whatever emotion is below that.

It isn't much of anything, he decides. Especially not when he hears you hum and sigh, "Smells good in here. What are you making?"

Nathan hardly looks away from the stove, his gaze focused as he stirs the bubbling sauce, eyeing the sizzling pan just beside it. His jaw tightens a touch as you press up against his side, leaning in and taking a whiff. Your brows raise as you lean away again, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter beside the stove.

"Watch it," He warns as he hears the scrape of his beer bottle across the counter.

"I've got it." You pluck the bottle up, taking a sip. "What's this for?"

"Just thought I'd try something new."

"What, like...Out of nowhere? I don't believe that."

His brow furrows, irritation ticking up. He tries to do something nice and this is the thanks he gets? Not that he cares—he'd have to eat dinner, too.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because, everything you do is deliberate."

"It's a recipe, not a patent."

He sees you shift a bit out of the corner of his eye, then sees your fingers dip into the frying pan to pluck out a piping-hot morsel. You hiss softly as you pop the food into your mouth.

"You could've gotten a fork," Nathan chastises boredly.

"Mm, too far."

Nathan glances toward you and spots you eyeing your burning fingertips. He reaches out, grasping your hand and raising them to his lips. He swipes his tongue along the pads, soothing the sting and removing the sauce before he lets go, turning back to the food. He can feel the way you watch him. You sit in silence for a few moments—and then you reach out, taking another morsel out of the pan and eating it.

Nathan's gaze travels to you almost incredulously, brows raising as you shoot him an innocent smile.

"It's good. Hot, but good," You defend, shrugging. Nathan can't help but smile a bit as he shakes his head.

"Keep that up, you're gonna burn your fingers again."

"I'll live...As long as you kiss 'em better."

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #asks #replies #anon #prompts

[charles-leclerc-official]

Luci I have been holding my tongue about this race because I am scared that I will read your analysis when it comes and feel stupid for overeacting

You are my voice of reason ❤️

It's totally fine to have an emotional reaction to a race, don't feel bad about that.

Just sit back, relax, understand we had a good race and I will deliver the data as quickly as I can.

#luci answers #also I don't want to make anyone feel stupid #If i come off as aloof or anything that is not my intent #especially not to gatekeep #I like teaching people <3

[vampirerodeo779]

❤️🎼🎨📚 (for the ask thing :))

omg i feel so special thank u mutual (answers for @sunsets-and-satsumas Star Trek ask game is under the cut because this is a very long post haha)

original post

who’s your comfort character in star trek?

easiest question ever. spocj ❤️❤️❤️ Live laugh love spock. I also really like Kirk but more in like a microwave way. that doesn’t make sense. anyway.

I also love Data, Troi, Wesley, Neelix, T’Lyn, Boimler, and Mariner. I love autism.

What are some songs/music that you associate with Star Trek?

Other than the half of Subspace Rhapsody that’s on my playlist? good question. I love Leonard Nimoys music. I have so many of his songs saved and he’s so talented.

A lot of the TOS cast has music actually. Both Nichelle Nichols (Uhura) and William Shatner (Kirk) have cover songs of varying quality. please listen to Shatners Bohemian Rhapsody, it is a necessity.

I mostly watch TOS (and SNW and LD when they come out)(i’ve watched every star trek thing but those are the ones i think about most) so I really associate slower songs with Star Trek. vaguely sad or whistful slow songs especially. I would link my Spock playlist but I barely add to it and it only has 3 songs I think.

What is your favorite piece of Star Trek fanart?

Oh god 😭 I genuinely don’t know. When I was first re-entering the Star Trek fandom, it was mostly for k/s. (just spent 20 minutes trying to find two very specific drawings but i can’t find them). I don’t think i have a FAVORITE though. If i had to pick I’d say any Star Trek art myself or my mutuals make are the ones I love seeing most ❤️

What is your favorite Star Trek fanfiction?

Purposely not linking any of my own works (yes, some of them ARE my favorite; i made them for me lol). But i pretty much ONLY read k/s. I like other ships but k/s is just my comfort 🤷‍♂️ here’s some that I’m reading or have bookmarked!:

Controlled Environment by Obsessed_Wraith— I know they have tumblr but I don’t remember/couldn’t find their handle, please tag them if you know it. This fic is currently unfinished, Chapter 6 was uploaded just today, but it is so amazing! please read it.

We Will Meet Again by Darksknight— I love long fics, and this was amazing. It’s very rare that I fully enjoy an AOS fic, but I think this is just a right balance between AOS and TOS. The Tarsus IV chapter(s?) were beautiful and are probably my favorite part, they were so amazing

Undone by my mutual @greengoddesssmoothie — also an incomplete fic, but the emotional turmoil in the beginning chapters were so amazing! the way Spock is characterized in this fic is just so so so fascinating.

If anyone has fic recs, i am in desperate need for more reading material lol. and also a special shoutout to my favorite tropes: Fake dating/marriage, slow burn, soulmates, and angst ❤️

(also, i personally do not read smut so none of the three above have smut i don’t think)

thank you so much for asking me these questions!! this was SO much fun to answer

#star trek #star trek tos #spock #k/s #leonard nimoy #nichelle nichols #william shatner #star trek tng #star trek voyager #star trek lower decks #star trek snw #star trek aos #ask games #ask game

[zzzzzestforlife]

🌟📍📁 for the asks ^^

thank you for the asks, ayn!! ❤️

🌟 Honestly, all my core academic memories revolve around me falling short and feeling this burning need to prove that one data point to be an outlier in the grand scheme of things 😅 But I watched a video about burning good fuel vs. bad fuel and guilt, regret, spite, jealousy — a.k.a. the main emotions featured in my core academic memories — are all bad fuel, which is fine, like it works, but it's definitely not sustainable! So, recently I've been intentional about trying to not rehash, no longer identify with, and stop falling back on these memories to motivate me. And the lovely studyblr community has been so great for finding good fuel to replace it with, such as inspiration, love of learning, and desire to achieve my personal goals!

📍 My biggest academic pet peeves are paying for textbooks and not being able to review my assessment results 😾

📁 I'm really proud of the current project I'm coordinating at work 🥺 It's so damn complicated and there's so much scope creep and so many bugs that need fixing, but I feel I understand for the first time the ins and outs of the whole feature, whereas I feel I only have a limited understanding as an IC (individual contributor). I'm gaining leadership experience, technical expertise, and when it does finally work or when a team member overcomes a particular hurdle whether it's with my direct help or not, it's such a rewarding feeling! ☺️

ask game 💌

#studyblr #study break #친구 #study inspiration #study motivation #studyblr community #student life #psychology student #studyspo #study tips #self care #self love #self healing #workblr #psychblr #software engineer #software engineering #comp sci #coding #codeblr #progblr #programming #stemblr #stem academia #stem student #ask game

[who-is-page]

I'm ✨~ pranking my partner ~ ✨ and YOU can help!

Disclaimer / TL;DR: This is, fundamentally, an extremely silly prank where I want to buy my partner a MtG deck he'll love, swap out his normal deck for his dream deck, challenge him to a match, and then watch his face light up in delight when he realizes.

(And then I want to watch his face fall into despair as I kick his ass in card games, revealing that I've also swapped out my normal deck for my dream deck! Surprise, motherfucker! Multi-part PRANK! ...but this Ko-Fi is specifically for raising money for his deck, not mine.)

My spouse's current hyperfixation is Magic the Gathering and, naturally, he's in the process of roping our whole polycule into all kinds of delighted card game mishaps and mayhem. His enthusiasm for the game is downright infectious, and I'm not saying that just because most of us are in love with him, either.

My partner and I lost our first Magic decks back when we were crossing the Florida peninsula to get away from Irma in 2017. He lost his Liliana deck; I lost my werewolf deck. We didn't end up buying any new physical cards for around five years, because... well, as corny as it sounds, it's really, really upsetting to lose a deck of cards you've bonded to and have had some really great times with! Hell, it still kind of makes my heart ache to think about, wondering where those cards could be. It's like the emotional equivalency of getting all your data on a game erased after hundreds of hours of playtime. Like, sure, you could replay it (or in this case, purchase new versions of the decks), but it really wouldn't be the same and might just feel like salt in the wound. We were also broke college kids at the time, so we couldn't afford to spend that much money frivolously-- the decks had skyrocketed in price, since it had been just long enough for them to be out of print, so the only people selling them had them at a huge mark-up. (And even now, I think his old Liliana deck is selling for like...$250+. Ouch. I think we splurged and spent like $20 on it when we first got it, for comparisons.)

We'd finally gotten some new decks in the last year, and we started playing on the Magic the Gathering Arena app. The new physical decks are honestly lovely, don't get me wrong, but none of them jive quite the same as our old decks did. My partner, recognizing this, drafted us both up our 🌟ideal decks 🌟 on the app, so we could have fun playing the physical game with the cards we've got AND could still have decks handmade for us that we've bonded to through trial and tribulation. It was super sweet and thoughtful of him to do, especially since none of the decks we physically own are any of my color combinations, and I sometimes get really frustrated playing them.

(For those of you familiar with Magic's color combos, I'm a red/green player who usually prefers werewolves, dinosaurs, and dragons. We have a blue/black fairy deck that I usually wind up with, and a white/blue spirit deck that I'll sometimes use. They're not bad decks by any means, but holy shit is it not my preferred play style.)

BUT THEN I HAD AN EPIPHANY.

I am no longer a homeless college student, having to manage every penny with sniper-like precision and having to make sure that I'm always able to carry my home on my back! I'm a settled adult, in a house with my polycule, with reliable income! If I really want to, I can purchase all the individual cards in our decks!

But here's the thing. My spouse is the king of pranks. We were best friends all throughout high school and when we first started dating and then living together, the jokes and shenanigans only intensified. (Living together with your partner is great because it's like an infinite sleep-over. I am so serious.) So I thought, wouldn't it be funny as hell if I buy his dream deck, swap it out with his normal deck without him noticing, challenge him to a card game, and then watch his face TOTALLY LIGHT UP when he realizes what I've done?

And wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if I also get my own dream deck--which normally kicks his ass in the app when we play together--sneak it into that match, and the totally demolish him??? CAN YOU IMAGINE HIS FACE????

(For background information, I lose a good 80% or more of our physical matches, because I am not a good blue player and he is an excellent vampire player. So this is also some minor catharsis for me.)

So, yeah: the Ko-Fi goal is what I'm hoping to raise to financially soften the blow of purchasing my partner's deck! I have no idea what the cost is going to look like for his, since I still need to sneak my way onto his app and download his decklist, but I'm hoping that $200 will be enough to cover his 100-card deck, since it looks like that's how much I'll need to squirrel away for my own.

#personal #ko-fi #MtG

[rosewind2007]

Some fool (not really, ❤️they know exactly what I’m like, thank you for the opportunity to rant @gamebird ) asked me about my take on how Gurathin noticed Murderbot was “rogue” and—

I think the on-site briefing could be the initial thing that made Gurathin suspicious

See All Systems Red:

And it had been hammered into them from the pre-trip orientation, to the waivers they had to sign for the company, to the survey packages with all the hazard information, to their on-site briefing by their SecUnit that this was an unknown, potentially dangerous region on a mostly unsurveyed planet.

We know MB has been getting away with this for almost four years (I’m using 24/365 here not any inter-system variants like Preservation’s 28 hour cycle) so it’s supposed to be good at this! Perhaps Gurathin (my beloved) has heard a few briefings before? They’re always the same—but instead MB injects sarcasm and irony (but maybe only over the feed? Perhaps that’s key here?)

Actually for me I think G’s augments would usually allow him extra connectivity to the SecSystem which includes SecUnits—MB might be bluffing with GrayCris but hmmm…“One of them is an augmented human, a systems engineer. He can make it launch. Check the data you got from our HubSystem. It’s Surveyor Dr. Gurathin.” GrayCris absolutely buy this, and of course G is the one who figures out the critical hack (not MB, which you might expect):

“Gurathin had figured out how to use the hack from their HubSystem into our HubSystem to get access”

Back to my point:

So my take is that right from the start G thinks there’s something odd about SecUnit, but he is perhaps so heavily influenced by CR propaganda and popular culture that he just like MB cannot reconcile this behaviour with a SecUnit, certainly not a rogue one—a rogue would be killing all the humans—so he initially assumes there is something controlling it somewhere? Or that it’s a modified unit? Or he doesn’t know but it’s not a SecUnit because he knows what they’re like and it’s not like this

And my personal take which is that Gurathin really likes (really likes) MB’s feed presence—imagine expecting the standard briefing from a completely emotionless machine and you’re deep in the feed (which Gurathin is a lot of the time) and instead it’s this really subtly funny and ironic version of the briefing, pointing out (really subtly) all the stupid bits which you’ve laughed at (internally before) and it’s just—just like you

And from then on Gurathin is noticing everything/anything, absolutely zeroing in on anything the SecUnit says or does—he can justify this to himself, it’s anomalous, it could be threat—but actually because he wants to be in MB’s company

BUT anyway, back to canon:

Before the worm attack, what is MB doing?

It’s looking at the sky: this is NOT SecUnit behaviour

“The planet had a ring, which from our current position dominated the horizon when you looked out to sea. I was looking at the sky”

I think before the worm attack, remember they’ve been there for three weeks (twenty-two cycles), Gurathin has been just making every excuse to be in the same feed area as MB—because of the anomalies obviously

We know Gurathin is hardly one for the demonstrative displays of emotion*, so why is it in ASR that he’s the one MB notices has a smile? Do we get physical descriptions of the other PresAux team? No we don’t, we get how they’re emotionally connected to each other but nothing about their facial expressions, and then at the end we get:

“Gurathin was the only loner, but he seemed to like being with the others. He had a small, quiet smile, and they all seemed to like him.”

Until the tragic misunderstanding about the governor module I think MB likes Gurathin right back

(Tragic Misunderstand TM)

*in Exit Strategy

“Gurathin came down to the lobby to wait for the GrayCris representative and took a seat in plain view on a lower platform, so stiff he looked more like a SecUnit than I did.”

Also, MB adds there: Well, in his defense it was a nerve-racking situation. No one asked you to defend Gurathin, MB—you DO like him

Anyway, where were we? Back to All Systems Red before the worm attack:—I reckon G knows there’s something seriously anomalous about their SecUnit before the worm attack

Worm attack just throws it all into stark relief and from then on in he’s just trying to make sense of it, as I’ve said before he knows MB isn’t a normal SecUnit AND he tries to get MB to fess up and explain what’s going on!

Look at how when MB does something that IT acknowledges the Governor Module would be triggered by Gurathin is in there querying it:

MB - “They’re supposed to be able to, but equipment failures aren’t unknown.”

👆it says to itself The other good thing about my hacked governor module is that I could ignore the governor’s instructions to defend the stupid company. Gurathin immediately chips in with:

G - “What about your systems?”

MB - “As the only one here with experience in these situations, I’m your best resource.”

👆 It was one of those impulses that comes from my organic parts that the governor is supposed to squash

G - “What situations?”

“Gurathin was in the hub doing something on his personal system. I wondered what he was doing and had just started to carefully poke around through HubSystem to find out.”

Then they get back from DeltFall with tales of rogue SecUnits and horror and death!

And whilst their SecUnit which he already had suspicions of, is out of action (because it shot itself, remember) he finds that:

Yes, it is rogue.

It believes it killed 57 people it was charged with protecting

The fact that he didn’t just immediately permanently put it out of action only serves to support my other, even LESS POPULAR opinion, which is that Gurathin is utterly besotted with Murderbot.

I do think this aspect is much overlooked by a lot of people: until Gurathin looks into its logs he doesn’t know that it (and this is what MB believes and G has no reason to think it’s lying to itself because that’s getting really really complicated into what logs and memories represent in the Murderbot Diaries) killed 57 clients, apparently innocent people—he has lived with it for three weeks, appears to be aware it isn’t what it appears to be BUT is certainly not being negative to it, in fact is smiling more than anywhere else in the book series? Surely this revelation comes as a shock?

Also: do note that Guarthin doesn’t lead with this—you’d think the fact that “This Unit has killed people before, people it was charged with protecting. It killed fifty-seven members of a mining operation.”

Wouldn’t you expect this apparent FACT would be what he’d lead with? But no, he doesn’t.

I mean? Why doesn’t he?

Gurathin is one mixed up person at this point, he’s reeling, I think he wants to believe MB’s version of events, which hey! We later do find out isn’t actually true! It’s not until it visits Ganaka Pit itself that it actually knows what happened…

In canon of course we then move on to the whole it calls itself Murderbot thing, and I would note that a) this is TRUE, and b) it’s Mensah who asks

Anyway, in summary:

Art by the wonderful @cinqueform ❤️

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #murderbot diaries #gurathin #secunit #martha wells #all systems red #gurathin my beloved #exit strategy #gurathinista #gurathin was right #I mean Gurathin wasn’t right about everything—but he was right about a LOT

[autisticempathydaemon]

Tidbit Tuesday~!

@romirola and @gingerbreadmonsters were lovely and sweet and precious enough to tag me today, which means y’all must suffer with me /j

When the February event came around, I found myself wishing for a flashback audio of Marcus and Love before the code really kicked in, to see what he used to be like. Then I remembered I can just write it myself ❤️

“How are you feeling today?”

“Operating within specified parameters, Marcus,” you answer, mechanical voice low and even. Your social protocols engineer furrows his brow in- derision? Confusion? His lips thin in a pursed expression- he is displeased. “Thank you for asking.” His mouth curls up at the corners, eyes crinkling in what you register to be a positive emotion, and you adjust your algorithm.

“Good, that was a very good attempt,” Marcus says quietly, typing at the tablet connected to your data port. “Next time, how about we try saying “good” or “well” instead?”

Tagging:

@bicyclepainting @bratty-telepath @lovelylonerliterature and anyone else who’d like to share 🧡

#redacted asmr #redactedasmr #redacted audio #redactedaudio #redactedverse #redacted #redacted Marcus #redacted love #busybee writes