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matcha-flavored-cake · 9 months

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୧ ‧₊˚ 🥐 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

. warnings: mentions of death (Jefferson) and grief, grammar erros (english is not my first language).

. featuring: Miles Morales (e!42)

. wc: 1.4k

.a/n: if you see grammatical errors, or me saying something in Spanish wrong, please feel free to correct me. My Spanish is rusty as fuck

hcs for miles 1610 here

He listens to a lot of reggaeton, afrobeat, and R&B. C'mon guys, look at my face and say to me he doesn't, also he prob like old school rap too, thanks to uncle Aaron and his dad, Jefferson probably showed his some jazz

I feel like Mama Rio and Abuelita Gloria showed him some old Puerto Rican singers and he listens old songs from time to time, specially when his nana is visiting

This man knows mechanics. Period. Help his mom to fix things around the house, shower, the lights etc. Bet his 'son and dad' time involved something with fixing things around the house and Jefferson 'passing the knowledge ' to Miles

"Listen Miles, you're the man in the house when I'm not around got it?"

"'kay dad"

"When I'm not around you're responsible for your mom deal? Gotta make sure she's in good hands when I'm not around"

"I gotchu dad, don't worry"

Ok listen, I'm kicking my feet thinking about Miles tuning his uncle's Ducati (and prob Aaron has a Ducati Scrambler. I do not take criticism), while listening music I'm just *giggling like a schoolgirl*

Btw I feel like if Miles ever had a motorcycle for his personal use and not for Prowler activities, it would be a Kawasaki Ninja or a Yamaha XSR 900. For Prowler activity honestly, he would have a Hayabusa bc it's fast as fuck, with purple neon lights like his Prowler suit. you cannot argue with me. I feel like it was a way of him and his uncle spend time together before his dad died

Miles prob is always tinkering with the titanium claws and his paraphernalia. (I love this word btw)

So yeah prob hes always with his uncle doing shit on the motorcycle or his suit while listening music or sum, or practicing boxing together.

And I bet his mom slapped them two when she once arrived and saw Aaron teaching Miles how to pilot a bike

"What you're doing with my son Aaron!" *that one meme of a man slapping the player on the shoulder*

"Ouch ouch! I'm just teachin' the kid how to pilot Rio, I surrender I surrender!"

"¿Y tú? ¿Qué diablos está en tu mente, Miles? ¡Montando una motocicleta! What am I going to do with you Miles Gonzalo Morales?!"

"¡Cálmate mamá! Uncle Aaron was just teachin' me, no es gran cos- ouch! Mom that hurts!"

Speaking of which, Mama Rio has insane strength on her arms (being a nurse demand a lot of strength to carry patients, changing their clothes, helping them bathe and all), that being said, when Mama Rio get ✨la chancla✨ oh boy, run, no kidding, run

(Everytime my mom grabbed her havaianas I runned more than Usain Bolt. I still do honestly)

I have a feeling that Miles knows how to cook, like he always knew. Arroz con pollo? Bet, does it with eyes closed. Fancy meals? Oh boy he's probably the only guy that the women of the family let inside the kitchen to help with Christmas banquet.

He eat his veggies, hates wasting food, it's not a picky eater but don't put pickles on his burger for the love of God.

Bet his nana tried to give him a bit of coquito without his mom seeing. (I hc his nana is one of those old lady that are a menace to society)

"Take a sip don't worry, No one is watching"

"No nana I'm all good"

"¡Mamá! Take this away from Miles."

Since his dad passed away he understood quite early that now he is the man in the house, that now he's the one to take care of his mom. So he started paying more attention to the chores. His mom is on duty? He's putting some music and cleaning the house, changing the blankets of his mom's bed, and probably making something for her to eat when she come back.

Prob has his mom schedule on his phone to make sure he knows where she is so it wouldn't risk her seeing his as the Prowler and he can watch out from the buildings while Rio walks to her work

Sunday family lunch was usual at Miles' house, his dad 'helping' his mom with the food (he just looked and passed her the ingredients), while Miles set the table. Music on the radio, enjoying the day before Miles need to go back to Brooklyn Visions.

Prefer more salty foods than sweets. Likes eating steak, it doesn't matter if it's BBQ or carne assada, he likes meat. For sweets, he's obsessed with the way his mom does Tembleque (sorry Abuelita Gloria)

We know his room is quite similar to 1610 Miles, but I feel like he doesn't have as many toys as 1610 Miles does. He sold some and used the money to help his mom somehow, he just doesn't want to be a burden for her.

I feel like he doesn't give his mom the money, he straight up pays the bill, or does groceries, so there's no way his mom can deny it. That or he gives the money to his uncle and they pretend that it is Aaron helping them.

It's confirmed by the artbook that Miles Prowler is a vigilante. That being said I think he decided to be the Prowler to help his place somehow, maybe even to make his dad proud, and to make his mom's life easier (just imagine the amount of people that get in the hospital because of how dangerous is the city now my god).

His mom is the priority in his life, he loves his family, his neighborhood and his friends. He's a kind soul with a shattered heart.

Miles is a quite good student. Not the '🤓☝️ actually that's happened at 09:12 in 1786…' type of smart, but the fast thinking kind of smart student. If he doesn't remember the formula he uses logical thinking. Prob takes classes ahead of his years and since he's always tinkering with his uncle his grades in calculus related stuff are pretty high.

Very good with Spanish by the way. Since his dad passed away he started learning more and more to speak with his mom in her native language to make her feel more 'at home' somehow.

I feel like in the first week after his dad passed away he slept in his house for some time and not in Brooklyn Visions dorms, he wished to be with his mom. He did not want her to be alone on her bed, mourning hi dad's death. Abuelita Gloria stayed some months with them too to help her daughter and to help Miles

Miles do his best to be organized, make his bed everyday after waking up, his cabinet is always organized, his Jordans are clean and probably have a collection of them on a shelf in his room. The only messy place on his room is his desk

Has a vinyl collection, don't argue with me. There's literally a bunch of vinyls in his room, guys.

Has some old Puerto Rican singers vinyls on his room thanks to Abuelita Gloria

Miles sings a bit, and have quite a melodic baritone voice. For my synesthetic friends, his voice sounds like honey, Miles is most of times humming when he's making upgrades on his claws

He's more athletic than 1610 Miles. Parkour, boxing and playing basketball with his neighbors and uncle

Started parkour because of his prowler activities to keep up with his uncle, same with boxing, after all he needed to defend himself and his mom. I don't doubt he knows krav maga too and I also don't doubt he taught his mom self defense.

Bought his mom a self defense kit

Uncle Aaron teached him forbidden movements in jiu jitsu, I take zero criticism on that one

Miles has a hard time sleeping sometimes, doesn't shift much when sleeping and has a knife under his pillow or something both in his house room and in Brooklyn Visions.

Loves, love, loves kids, as i said he's a kind soul with a shattered heart, and I think he's quite good with kids, and scares the shit of some at the same time.

I feel 'angry painter' vibes from him. He sketches and all but I feel like he's more of a painter and graffiti kind of guy. I do think he knows how to play bass or piano btw

Would get piercings on his ear and tongue, yes. But since he's the Prowler it would be troublesome because of the time that takes to heal

The old ladies of the neighborhood love him, he's kind to them, and always scare away weird looking guys

Is the crush nextdoor of almost every girl on the neighborhood

One time he scared the shit out of a creep on his neighborhood. Punched the guy so bad that dislocate the man's jaw. Since then he need to hide himself on valentine day, the good part about it is that he got a lot of chocolate to eat.

Seems like a bad boy all the time but he's an introvert. Miles do his best to don't get attached to people bc he doesn't want to drag them into his world or risk people he loves

He just don't want see people dying anymore, that's why he does what he does, to make the world a little bit safe, even if it's just a bit

@matcha-flavored-cake © • do not copy, translate or use as your own

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octuscle · 10 months

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What cases are left please?

I could offer a suitcase from NAP. Interested? Of course you are interested. Part of your roots lie in the metropolis of Campania. Although, much to your regret, you don't even see it when you know it. If one had to estimate, one would perhaps come to Eastern Europe. In any case, you are far from "fare una bella figura". But then, Chicago is a long way from Naples.

The suitcase is really huge. With stickers on it. Some of the names don't mean anything to you…. Others could be the names of race tracks. But you are not sure. Surprisingly, your first attempt to open the combination lock is immediately successful.

Okay, you had expected many. But not motorcycle gear. Apart from the fact that the clothes all look much too small for you, you have no need for them… You miss a motorcycle. You find the compression suit quite cool and fascinating. It also looks very small. But you see if you fit in it. Yes, it's actually too short and too tight. And when you put it on, the hair on your body is annoying. But it feels good. The material presses your body into shape. And feels like a second skin. More for fun you put on the helmet and put on the gloves. You sweat madly. But it feels incredibly fantastic. And you have to cum.

Now you also have to see how it looks with the full outfit. You slip into the Dainese suit like into a glove. Must be the compression suit. The boots also fit perfectly. So that it fits better in color, you take the second helmet and the second pair of gloves from the suitcase. Awesome, what the outfit creates for an ass. It looks like it's made of concrete. And feels like concrete. You cum for the second time.

The keys for your Ducati are in the suitcase. You have to take your beast out for a ride. You need to know how the new motorcycle gear feels on it. You make a kick start. And you cum on the ride a third time. You ride a bit on the waterfront and then steer your bike into the narrow streets of the old town. Behind the old gate, no one would expect a garage like this. But here is your kingdom, here are your babies. You park the Ducati, polish off a bit of dust, hang up the motorcycle suit and tidy away the helmet, boots and gloves. Tidiness is extremely important to you in your garage. Only half of you is Neapolitan. The other is from Lombardy. That's always noticeable.

Upstairs in your apartment you realize that you have not yet completely emptied your suitcase. The leather shirt and the leather shirts are still inside. And you take off the compression suit. Your jizz sticks to you everywhere and you stink of sweat. You come for the fourth time. And this shall not be the last time. It's Friday night, now it's off to the nightlife! And you are the master of fare una bella figura.

Half an hour later you are styled. And ready for anything. A good Neapolitan stallion!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #race change #leather tf #age reduction #biker tf

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stqrbxy · 1 year

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as the moon rises. [中也] chuuya nakahara.

you smiled to yourself softly as you looked at your figure in the mirror. you wore a tight black outfit that highlighted your curves perfectly, it was topped off with the pair of custom-made matching gloves chuuya had brought you on one of your dates, which were beautifully threaded together while his one was of leather. despite the broad difference, it counterparts both yours’ and chuuyas' hands elegantly.

seeing as your outfit was complete all you had to do was to put on your shoes, which you stuck to a pair of long, high, autumn red platforms. you applied some strawberry lipstick and headed outside with your minimalistic obsidian tote bag which somehow suited your opposite, formal wear; getting your phone out of your bag, you dialled his number.

"hello?" you softly whispered through the loud breezes of the night air blowing pleasantly in your direction.

"doll?" you heard his voice mutter out, in an equally quiet voice, which made a soft smile make its way up to your lips. you nodded, despite knowing that he couldn't see you, right when you were about to answer, some words had already split from his lips before yours.

"i'm to your right, doll." you looked towards your right to see a ducati 1299 panigale parked with its owner on top of it, hovering slightly. he flashed you a confident smirk as he lowered his cell phone when you called off the call and walked towards him with a soft smile. seeing your movements, he too got off his motorcycle

"you look gorgeous as always." he smirked teasingly at the heat appearing on your cheeks, as you kissed his cheek.

"ah, you missed." "hm? what do you mean…—" you were cut off by a pair of soft, moist lips landing on yours.

you blushed as his lips left yours moments later, you giggled slightly at the state of his lips as a sweet colour smudged his normally pink lips. chuuya rose an eyebrow at this before you gestured to his lips, making him smirk as he looks at the smudged lipstick. he looked so beautiful, a star in the dark, absolutely breathtaking. as he smiled to himself, a soft blush dusted his porcelain skin, he took a deep breath before reaching his right hand to you and placing his left hand on his back, shooting you a lovestruck smile as you returned him starstruck eyes.

“shall we head out to our date, my love?”

[ a.n ] my first ever fanfic / drabble, how was it? ^^

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s-i-n-i-s-i-n · 8 months

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Carmen Sandiego

Outfit Ranking Season 2!!!

Here is a link to part 1

We will not rank the outfits that were already ranked in Season 1 and that also appear in Season 2. We will just look at them again because why not? Lets get them out of the way.

Dive suit Rate: Awesome

Mumbai outfit Rate: Sexy

Jammies Rate: Comfy

Red Hoodie Rate: Cool

Red Coat Rate: Hot!

Now that we have seen the already seen awesomeness. Let's get into it.

Number 7: Hospital gown!

...does it count?

I mean, quite unfortunate to be in a hospital. But at least they let her keep her makeup? Cmmon! Those lips are way too red to not be make up. The nurses were like: She's frozen but that doesn't mean she can't be glamorous.

Number 6: Training outfit.

Always protect the face. She will break yours while looking awesome.

Did you notice that triangles are a common thing on her clothes? Should we make a conspiracy theory about it?

Number 5: Russian outfit

A spectre is haunting Europe — the spectre of communism the Red Ghost! привет Comrade Carmen!

She looks fashionably warm!

Number 4: Model dress.

She looks great. Boob window and all. The slit on the skirt. But even more that that: She can fight in heels.

And throw them too. I see she has a thing for throwing shoes.

She looks nice! But if you ask me I prefer the Auction dress from season 1.

Ok now. The three first places!!! But before that, you know it: Three honorable mentions!

Honorable mention #1

The cutest baby ever. My goodness!

She was the best toddler pick pocketer. Probably the only one.

Honorable mention #2

Fashion's latest scream! A very elegant coat made out of... the remains of a glider. Kudos to Carmen for making the best out of an awful situation.

To this day I hate Chief for this. Hate her deeply. Carmen might forgive her but I do not.

Honorable mention #3

Carmen's dream hats. They are imported. They are here because that hat is so iconic it made its way into the subconscious world.

Third Place: Safari outfit.

Oh my glob. Can she look cuter than this? I know it doesn't appreciate here but she is wearing a red belt. Can not be a Carmen outfit without red. Nice very nice outfit. She looks super cool.

And my goodness, those legs!

Second place: Dubai Dress.

This one was difficult for me. I almost gave it the first place, because she looks so damn elegant and sexy! She has a cape, A CAPE! She looks like a woman that anyone would obey at the snap of her fingers.

And a hairdo! And the earrings! Little splashes of red.

Stunning! simply stunning.

First Place: Moto GP

I am biased. I love motorcycles. And I love Carmen. And Carmen in a motorcycle? What else could I ask for?

I may be cheating here because I´m counting the bike as part of the outfit. She looks super hot on a Ducati, sue me.

Look at her going! Vrroooom!!!

So fast. So skilled. So sexy. AAAAaaaahhh! Look at the technique! The counterbalance! She might not now how to drive a car but she surely knows how to ride.

Rock and Ride!

I made so many gifs and I am not sorry. Brrrrhaaaababababammmm! Rrrrev it girl!

Akira style! So good so good. Hoo baby, that's hot!

I'm just curious about where in VILE island could have she learned how to ride a bike. I'm not complaining though.

That's it folks. See you at Season 3 outfit ranking!

#carmen san diego #Carmen Sandiego 2019 #Carmen Sandiego Outfits #Ay Carmencita!

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boylovesleathers91 · 11 months

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Can you give the story a Unique title. Can you write a story about a Stern headmaster of an all-boys secondary school he go to year 13 class Chose 6 of the Students from the class the headmaster tack him to the in school Barbershop the headmaster Tell the Barber to shave the 6 students and his heads then the headmaster takes the 6 students to the in school gym the headmaster Injects 6 students

with Steroids and make the 6 students work out after a 2 hour work out Student the headmaster tack the students to in school Tattooist get a tattoo put on the third chests and then the headmaster take the 6 students back to his office and handed the them a dainese LAGUNA SECA 5 1PC LEATHER SUITS dainese STEEL-PRO IN GLOVES dainese axial pro in boots ARAI full face helmet with black tinted visor and ear plugs in the student's ears and mouth guard in the student's mouth Causing the 6 students to takein muffled slang.The headmaster asked the them "how do you feel? " the headmaster handing a key to a ducati panigale superleggeras to use as the their Main form of transport and the headmaster gave the 6 students a nicknames on the back of the dainese LAGUNA SECA 5 1PC LEATHER SUITS and a rider numbers on 6 students Aerodynamik speed humps on back of their suits before the student Lefted the headmasters office. Can you come up with An Answers for each of the 6 students to give the headmaster in muffled slang language Based on motorcycles due to the mouth guard in the student's mouth. Can you give the headmaster and the 6 students names and surnames using Throughout the story. Can you come up with a muffled slang language Based on motorcycles. Can you come up with a Conversation for the 6 students in their muffled slang language Based on motorcycles and using their nicknames. Can you give the 6 students Ages at the beginning of the story. Can you start the story from the beginning. Can you split into Chapters.

I there, I'm afraid that your request exceeds my talent and therefore I have to reject it, I'm sorry.

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obito76 · 1 year

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[Closet Secrets]

Chapter 16 : Party

You can read my full work here on AO3.

---

Raven fidgeted as she checked her phone, her heart thudding in her chest. Okay, Jason had another ten minutes before the party started, he wasn’t late. Not yet. She just needed to calm down and-

Her thoughts were cut short as the sound of a motorcycle roared up behind her. Swallowing what fear she had, Raven turned around and watched the sight of a black and red Ducati motorcycle approach, its rider wearing a finely pressed suit and a helmet. A second passed in silent shock and then Raven relaxed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth and she shook her head. Of course Jason would ride a motorcycle, and a Ducati at that.

He found a place to park, his hair practically perfect as he removed his helmet and left it on the bike seat. Raven blushed and looked away, trying not to embarrass herself as he offered that teasing, lop-sided smile to her while dusting off his suit jacket as he practically sauntered up to her. How in the world did he manage to have perfect hair even after he rode through town on a bike like that?

“You look little lost, Little Bird... I’m not late am I?”

She blushed at the nickname and pushed at her hair, not quite sure if she should meet his piercing stare. “Er... no, You’re a little early actually.”

“Good. I was worried that I might have been late.” He reached out and curled his fingertips under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his own. “And I certainly didn’t want to be late for a date with you. That would be a damn sin.”

His voice was pitched low enough to melt her entire being, and she stepped back a bit, blushing brightly. He just chuckled and leaned even closer to her, his breath ghosting over her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her face closer to his own expectantly, but instead of the fevered kisses she had felt the other day, she heard his words murmur against her.

“May I kiss you, Raven?”

Raven felt her blush grow darker, and she leaned up on her tip-toes to brush her lips against his own. She heard his chuckle rumble low in his chest, and he pulled her tightly against him, practically stealing her gasps of pleasure as easily as he stole her kisses just a few nights before. Raven’s hands slowly came up to tangle in the lapels of his jacket, and she pulled him closer, needing to feel that warmth from his body invading her own. She felt like he was a bit like a drug – a quick, easy high that left her dizzy and spinning, and immediately begging for more.

“Come on, Raven,” he murmured against her lips, his voice soft and sultry as he nudged her nose with his own. “You don’t want to be late for this party… That is unless I can tempt you with something a little more interesting...” His hands at her waist slid lower to palm the curves of her hips, and he pulled her even closer to him, his smirk practically sinful. “Mm?”

Raven somehow managed to hold back a moan and she kept a hold of her sanity enough to take a step back, grabbing desperate gasps of air as he continued to stare at her. Pushing at her hair, she turned away from him, fidgeting with her purse to give her hands something to do.

“You’re distracting,” she mumbled into the silence between them.

He laughed, the sound smoky. “Oh really? You know, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that before.”

“I didn’t imagine it was.” Raven chuckled and shook her head, watching as he offered his arm to her. She took it with a small smile and let him lead her up the walk to the Victorian mansion looming in the distance.

The porch was lit with a hundred electric candles and filled with a few of known writers and their dates, chatting happily before going inside to entertain the wealthy guests. This entire night was meant to be a fundraiser for the literature program at various universities, and practically all of the guests had deep pockets. It was Raven and other well reader's job to charm them with talks of books and poetry, and the thought that she was going to have to be personable made her more than just a little bit nervous.

Of course, knowing that who she was going with at this party certainly didn’t help either...

She glanced up at Jason, chewing on her lower lip as she thought about the night ahead. There was no doubt that Jason could be the perfect gentleman tonight, their first interaction was case-and-point. He would very likely be able to smile and captivate everyone in the room with his good looks and his intelligence, quoting Shakespeare and discussing his use of language. Letting go of a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, she shifted her weight again and looked away.

“You seem nervous, Raven?”

She shook her head and tightened her hand on his arm as someone smiled politely at her and waved. “No, it’s just… I don’t do well in social situations-“

“I couldn’t tell,” he interrupted with a laugh.

“-but it was a requirement that I come here for tonight.” She rolled her eyes and nodded her greetings in return. “They personally sent me an invitation,”

“Oh?” He led her up the steps, ignoring the sultry glances some of the university students were making his way. “For your honor’s program, right? Dick told me a little bit about it the last time we talked.”

Raven blinked, feeling a blush darken her cheeks. “Oh? You and Dick… talk?”

“Well, we’re co-workers. We talk, not really all that often, but you’re a special case.” He smiled again and tugged a little at her arm, secrets practically dancing in his eyes. “A very special case if you’ll believe it.”

Raven balked a little. “What does that mean?”

Jason smiled, but said nothing, and opened the front door for her, walking her into the foyer like a gentleman. The sounds of laughter and excitement vibrated around her, and Raven could feel her nerves tightening up even more. She just had to get through tonight, and then she would be free to retreat into her room again. Seeming to sense her nerves, Jason just gave her another reassuring smile and took her coat from her, giving it to the attendant at the door and taking her arm again.

“Raven,” he whispered to her, his voice low and smooth against her skin, like warm cream. “I know you can do this. You’re much stronger than a room full of rich old people. You’re far too interesting and beautiful to get pushed around by a bunch of old geezers.”

She looked up at him, fighting against a smile. “Is that so?”

He shrugged with a laugh. “It’s true.”

After that the rest of the evening was a blur of talking and pretending to be charming. Smiling happily and discussing books and poetry, it was enough to make Raven sick. Being friendly and happy wasn’t exactly her forte, and she was much happier being alone with her books and silence. All of this was just too much, and her nerves were practically raw as the night wore on, but Jason seemed to hold her up to the best of his ability. He gave her little reassuring taps and squeezes, reminding her that he was here for her. If Raven didn’t know any better, she would have thought that he was doing this all on purpose, that his affections were honest. But she was smarter than to let herself fall for him. He was, after all, still Gotham's Jason Todd.

“Raven,” he murmured against her ear, when they both had a moment of silence. “I know you’re nervous, but I’m here for you. Besides, you’re doing quite well. If I didn’t know any different, I’d say that you were born for this kind of life.”

“Ugh, please don’t say that.” Raven rubbed the bridge of her nose and looked away, her lips tugging down into a frown. “This is a one time event only, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Ah. Is that so?” He lifted an eyebrow and just stared at her over the rim of his champagne glass, his eyes sparkling with unspoken quips.

“Yes,” She blushed and lifted her eyes to his own, looking into his smiling face. How did he manage to make her entire being calm down with just a few well-placed words and a teasing smile? She shifted a bit and brought her hands up to adjusted his tie. “Very much so. This is it and never again. Is that clear?”

“Mm… crystal, Little Bird.” He watched her for another long moment, and he hummed again, as if figuring out that there was something else riding under the surface of her being. “But… there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there? It’s not just about the night or the party, it’s something else.”

“You’re actually right.” She shuffled on her feet and looked away, chewing on her lower lips. “I… There is something I want to ask you, Jason.”

“Oh?” He grabbed another two flutes of champagne from a waiter walking by, handing one to her. How many glasses had they had already? She didn’t know, but she knew that they were both a little tipsy as the guests hummed and talked around them. Talking to him seemed easier, and his teasing was starting to do more than just make her roll her eyes or shake her head.

He took a sip and smiled. “And what is that, Raven?”

“Well, when I-…” Raven felt her words trail off as she saw a familiar figure come through the door. Eyes sliding closed, she turned away from the front door and walked deeper into the mansion, hearing his low, old-world laughter following her. Jason stopped and turned around to see the handsome face, blue eyes practically piercing right through Raven. He lifted an eyebrow and looked down at Raven, but she avoided his curious stare.

He hummed again, his nostrils flaring a bit in annoyance. “I’m going to assume that’s-“

“Not ex exactly,” Raven cut him off with a sigh and pushed at her hair. “We hooked up once but then he started pestering me about going on a date with him... A drunk mistake that I hope to never repeat ever again.”

Jason’s lips twitched. “And this mistake’s name? Other than ‘asshole’ of course.”

Raven felt herself smile in spite of the situation. “Wasn't important enough to remember.”

“Well,” Jason said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tightly against his body. She could feel his heartbeat and breath vibrate through her, and something in her stomach clenched as he continued to close any amount of space between them. “Why don’t we give him something to miss?”

Without waiting for her questions, he dipped his head to her mouth and gave her the most soul-crushing kiss she had ever experienced. Heat ran down her spine and pooled low in her stomach, setting her entire being aflame with little licks of hellfire. She felt as if Jason was pulling down every single one of her barriers with insistent kisses and low laughs, and this just proved it. She brought one hand up into his hair and groaned a little, feeling his teeth nip at her lower lip before pulling away. He looked into her eyes, smiled and leaned back in for another kiss, downing her until she had to lean against him for support.

It felt like an eternity before he pulled away and put actual space between them again.

“Better?”

She blushed and nodded. “I… I think so.”

Jason cast a sideways glance over to the man, who stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something to Raven, but Jason just laughed and took her hand, leading her away from the hubbub of the party and deeper into the mansion, ignoring the shocked stares and whispers that followed them into the silence. The sounds of laughter and teases gave away to stillness and the smell of age. It was almost calming.

“I think I like teasing your old hook-ups,” Jason said with another chuckle, swirling the champagne around in his glass before downing the rest of it. He set the glass down on a nearby table and continued walking them farther and farther from the party. “I could get used to showing you off like that.”

Raven laughed as he turned another corner and let them be lost in the maze of hallways and rooms. “You almost sound like you enjoyed that kiss more than I did.”

He simply lifted a knowing eyebrow to her and pushed open another door, pulling her into a drawing room.

Raven finally looked around and realized that they were far from the party and the rest of the guests, and Jason was leading her away from the comfort of a crowd and into the unknown of being alone with him. She felt something in her chest flutter with excitement, but she said nothing about that. Their long journey into empty rooms and vacant hallways was an entirely different story.

She looked over her shoulder, seeing the luxurious hallway disappear into darkness behind them. “How do you know where you’re going?”

A smile played across his lips and he closed the door. “Wouldn’t you like to know…?”

She pursed her lips. “I would, actually.”

He shrugged. “I may or may not be acquainted with the owner of this mansion…”

“Bruce Wayne...” She blinked and took another sip of her champagne. “Why am I not surprised?”

He leaned closer to her, brushing his nose against her own, his full lips curling up into another smile. “Ah-ah, Little Bird… Let's keep that as a secret.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, why bring me back here?”

He smirked. “You needed a break and the party was getting stuffy.”

“And?”

His smiled faded into something darker and far more sinister. “I can’t stop thinking about all the delightful things I’d like to do to you.” He moved closer to her, reaching into his suit pocket. “Do you know how hard it is to conceal a raging erection in a room full of stuffy old bastards?”

Raven’s eyes widened and she felt laughter bubble up from the depths of her stomach as she glanced down. “I am not aware of that.”

“It’s hard. And having you look like a literal goddess standing next to me is certainly not helping…” Slowly, he pulled a strand of silk rope from his suit pocket and looked into her eyes, his lips curling up at the edges. “Now, Raven, may I please have those pretty little wrists of yours? I have a few things I’d like to show you.”

Blushing brightly, with her heart pounding in her ears, Raven raised her wrists to his eye-level and watched with bated breath as he wrapped the silk rope around and in between her wrists. There was something just a little frightening about what he was promising with the simple action, but she was far more interested in the heady burn that curled deep in the pit of her stomach and threatened to make her entire skin go up in flames.

He tied the rope with a surprisingly pretty bow and smirked. “How does it feel? Too tight?”

“N-no…” Raven felt her words skip in her throat and she let him lead her back against the wall, his voice like black velvet over her skin.

“Good, Little Bird. Now…” He hooked his thumb in the silk rope and raised her hands up, pinning them above her on the wall. He lowered his mouth to hers, giving her another one of his slow, drugging kisses that made her melt. All the while his other hand slid up the length of her thigh and bunched her dress between his fingers, pulling the hem up one slow inch at a time. She moaned as he traced the edges of her panties, rubbing his thumb along the tense muscles in her thigh.

“You’re nervous?”

She shook her head, trying not to think about the fact that his eyes were dark enough to drown her soul in shadows. “No. I’m…”

He raised an eyebrow and snapped the elastic of her panties teasingly, letting them fall against her skin. She gasped as the sharp snap reverberated through her body like a million pins of pleasure, and she tugged at the rope that he held pinned to the wall. It was only at that moment that she realized that she was at his mercy.

Eyes widening, she watched with bated breath as he smiled at her and kissed along her collarbone, giving her little bites and nips that made her shiver and shake. He reached the strap of her dress with his teeth and he pulled it over her shoulder, peppering her with kisses as his fingers continued to tease her flesh underneath her dress.

Jason ran his fingertips over the flat of her abdomen with feather-light touches, stroking her every way possible, but never letting his touches drift low enough to offer relief. Raven groaned and knocked her head against the wall, feeling his lips wrap around the soft flesh of her breast. Raven writhed against him, but his touches never became more insistent or offered a moment of release. They just tortured her one little brush at a time.

“J-jason… please…”

He chuckled and bit down into her nipple as his fingers drifted lower, brushing over the soft silk of her panties. Raven knew she must have been wet, ready for him to take her just from his teasing alone, but he said nothing. No, instead he continued to bite and suck at that soft swell of her breast, and Raven knew exactly what he was doing – he was marking her. He was making it so that anyone would know he had touched her and who she belonged to.

“Little Bird…” His voice rumbled down her chest and Raven groaned, tugging on her restraints again. There was no way to urge him on, no way to offer herself relief… she was just left here under his very skilled and dangerous hands.

“Jason, I… I need…”

He picked up his head from her breast and smiled. “You need what?”

“I need to…”

He raised an eyebrow, and Raven knew that he wasn’t going to offer her any relief until she asked for it. Her cheeks darkening, she met his eyes and whispered. “I need your fingers inside me.”

He chuckled. “There’s a good little bird.”

With those words he slipped a single finger under the waistband of her panties and stroked her with the same soft, almost nonexistent touches as he had her thighs and abdomen. It only made the passion and feelings a million times worse.

“Jason. Please.”

“Mm… on my terms, Little Bird.” His voice was low and gravelly against her skin and he continued to feast on her neck. “I will touch you on my terms and my terms alone.”

Even in the heat of the moment Raven couldn’t help but realize how different his skills were from Dick. While he was warmth and light and hot, willing to give Raven everything she wanted, Jason was darkness and hellfire. He was cold silk under a moonless sky, he was stolen moments hidden in shadows and forbidden stares cast in broad daylight. He was everything Dick wasn’t, and there was something wonderfully sinful about that.

Jason picked up his head from her neck and ran a fingertip over her clit with slow, gentle circles. Raven’s hips bucked against his touch, her arms thrashing against the wall as she tried to pull free from his hold. He just chuckled and licked her lips before capturing her mouth in another kiss, slipping two fingers inside her as his thumb continued where his finger had left off. Raven whined into his kiss, it was too much. Far too much.

She pulled her lips away and moaned. “Jason…”

“Tell me when you’re going to cum, Little Bird.” He pulled her arms up higher on the wall as his fingers increased their pace deep inside her. It sent a million little sparks of electricity flying over her skin and Raven didn’t know where he stopped and she ended.

“Fuck I…”

“Now?”

She nodded, another whimper escaping.

Jason smiled and he pulled his hand away, dropping her skirt back to a respectable height.

Shocked, her head still thrumming with the pain of a near-orgasm, Raven turned and watched as he licked her essence off his fingers with a smile. He reached up and untied the rope round her wrists with a chuckle, putting it back in his suit pocket.

Gasping as her arms fell slowly to her sides, she looked up into his eyes waiting for an explanation.

His hands smoothed over her arms and eased the the kinks on her wrists with tender, delicate touches. “I’ll let you cum when I’m ready, Little Bird… until then, I want you on the edge.”

Raven’s mouth fell open in shock.

#teen titans #raven roth #raven teen titans #smut #robrae #dick grayson #robin #smut prompts #shameless smut #teen titans smut #jayrae #dick grayson x raven #dick grayson x rachel roth #jason todd x rachel roth #jason todd x raven #jason todd #dickrae

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sbknews · 11 months

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Special Liveries for the Official WorldSBK and MotoGP Teams for the Misano Races

The return of Giallo Ducati: special liveries for the official WorldSBK and MotoGP teams for the Misano races. Ducati pays tribute to its history in the world of racing by announcing that both the official WorldSBK (Aruba.it Racing – Ducati Team) and MotoGP (Ducati Lenovo Team) teams will compete in the Misano rounds of their respective World Championships with a special livery characterized by the return of Giallo Ducati colour.

The project was presented during a press conference held at the Misano World Circuit Marco Simoncelli in which Centro Stile Ducati Director Andrea Ferraresi took part together with the Italian designer Aldo Drudi, the man who created the special livery . The unveiling for the fans took place shortly before the formation lap of Race-1 of the Italian WorldSBK round, when the Aruba.it Racing – Ducati Team opened the garage door and the official riders, World Champion Alvaro Bautista and teammate Michael Ruben Rinaldi, entered the track astride their respective Panigale V4 R in Giallo Ducati with race suits coordinated with the shades of the bike.

Yellow is a colour that has an important tradition in the history of the Bologna-based motorcycle manufacturer. The first sport motorcycles in this colour date back to the first half of the '70s (the 750 Sport and 750 SS Desmo of the Spaggiari team), but it was in the '90s that Giallo Ducati, the colour that specifically inspired this livery, had the moment of greatest popularity with the adoption in the world of racing, which then extended to series production. The memorable models in Giallo Ducati certainly include the Ducati 748, whose racing version took Paolo Casoli to victory in the 1997 edition of the Supersport World Series, without forgetting superbikes such as the 916, 996, 749, 999 and other various models in the range.

“Ducati has an extraordinary history of which its passionate fans are extremely proud. The yellow colour is an important part of this and we have chosen to celebrate it through a contemporary livery full of energy. – declared Andrea Ferraresi, Ducati Centro Stile Director - Colour is an essential ingredient for brand recognition and a fundamental element for all Ducatisti. Ducati is Red, but Yellow also belongs to us and at the same time has an important tradition in Italian motorsport. Giallo Ducati reflects important aspects of our identity, such as energy, enthusiasm and audacity and is a really nice tribute to our sporting history in the year in which we race as World Champions in the two most important motorcycle championships".

From a chromatic point of view, the livery of the Panigale V4 R of the Aruba.it Racing – Ducati Team has been designed starting from the original graphic base. Giallo Ducati becomes the dominant colour of the bike and is crossed by black, grey and white blocks and lines, creating a combination that celebrates the sporting history of the Bologna-based motorcycle manufacturer, but at the same time gives Giallo Ducati a modern identity. For more Ducati news check out our dedicated page Ducati UK News or head to the official Ducati UK website ducati.com/gb/en/home

Read the full article

#Ducati #Ducati2023 #DucatiUK #GialloDucati #MotoGP #MotorcycleNews #WorldSBK

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encomium-emmae · 2 years

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Mafia AU: A bit of a pre-wedding interlude, but with additional Harald and Leif! I suspect you all will be able to tell what scene in the show inspired part of this chapter... :) (Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 or read the whole story on AO3)

A soft knock on the door brought Emma’s attention away from the ledgers on her desk; she glanced up to see one of the housemaids standing just inside the doorframe, looking a touch apprehensive.

“They’re here, ma’am.”

“Yes, thank you,” Emma replied with a nod, watching as the girl quickly slipped away and disappeared down the corridor. With a steadying breath, she rose to her feet, smoothing out the small creases at the front of her trousers.

Everyone was slightly nervous this morning—including Emma, it seemed—for they were expecting a visit from the new head of the family, along with several of his men. This time, though, they were not coming as enemies to sit down at a negotiating table, but as fellow members of a newly unified house. They had conquered, and the time had come to take stock of their conquest.

Unsurprisingly, Edmund had refused to stay, declaring that he had no interest in watching the men of the Knýtlinga stroll around as if they already owned the place. Instead, he and Godwin had headed in the direction of the garage, where their motorcycles were kept. Edmund took great pride in his vintage Ducati and over the past few months, he and the capo had begun taking long rides up and down the backcountry roads, often racing each other along the winding asphalt paths. The purpose of today’s ride, though, was clearly not pleasure; it was avoidance, pure and simple.

But as much as Emma was irritated by his petulance, a part of her understood. Yellow and purple bruises still ringed his eye, a visible reminder of what he had lost. He was still angry and disappointed, unable to accept his new position in the family. In that sense, she was not entirely disappointed he had made himself scarce; absent, he would not be able to say something impolitic or upset any of her delicately made plans.

She made her way to the foyer and through the front door. Outside, in the circle drive, Canute and several men were just stepping out of their cars. Most of them she knew by now, including the two who had been seated next to her at the dinner. They were dressed in dark, slim-cut suits, although she was certain both were well-armed underneath their jackets. For his part, Canute was entirely in black, both suit and shirt, gold cufflinks peeking out from the bottom of his sleeves. All of them looked fully prepared for business and Emma hoped she did not appear too casual: aside from her capri trousers, she had worn a sharp white button-down and a sky-blue jacket that she knew complemented the color of her eyes.

From Canute’s admiring glance, however, it was clear he had no objections to what she was wearing.

“Emma,” he said, turning from her to the men behind him, “may I introduce Harald Sigurdsson and Leif Eriksson.”

Both men were of similar height and build, bearded, with wavy, light brown hair. But there were subtle differences: the one on the left—Harald—was more classically handsome, with lively dark eyes and an easy smile, while the other—Leif—was a touch quieter and more observant, as if much of his time was spent within his own thoughts. The ambush, Emma recalled, had been his idea, and Canute had trusted him enough to put it into action.

“Welcome,” she said. “I remember you both from the dinner, but it’s good to put names to faces. Canute tells me you are men that can be relied upon. I hope that will be true for this new united house we are building.”

Harald grinned widely and Emma instantly understood. If Leif’s central asset was his clear-eyed gift for strategy, then Harald’s clearly was his charm, his ability to cast a warm, enticing spell over whoever happened to be in his path.

“We hope so, too. And now that your families are finally at peace, the focus can return to business—and expansion.”

“That is our goal,” Emma replied. “And part of why you’re here today: the first step towards merging these two houses. Of course, I’m sure you will both want to speak with the family’s head of security, if only to learn more about the current threats we’re facing and the measures he’s already put into place.”

“Is he not here?” Leif asked, green eyes glancing back and forth over the drive and the front of the house.

She smiled knowingly. “He’s probably still in his office, pouring over your background checks. I’m assuming there are a lot of redacted pages from a number of national security agencies.”

Harald turned towards Canute, then clasped him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. “I like her. I can already tell she’s going to keep you on your toes.”

Emma escorted the men of the Knýtlinga into the house, directing a member of the staff to show them around the property and then to accompany Harald and Leif to the head of security’s office. Once they were gone, she planned to speak with Canute separately—his new leadership of the family would require a much more in-depth knowledge of their finances and she had already asked the accountants to draw up a summary statement to share with him.

When it came to the question of the private offshore accounts, she still had come no closer in deciding what to share. Eventually she would, of course—they were going to be married, and she didn’t want any secrets between them. But some part of her was still not ready to divulge something she had closely guarded for so long, and there was the worrying chance he might be upset that she had not said anything sooner. Perhaps she would just wait until after the wedding; what man wouldn’t be happy to learn that his new wife was in possession of a literal fortune, one that now also belonged to him?

In her study, Emma wasted no time pushing aside her ledgers until she found the slim folder containing the financial statement.

“Even before the war between our families began, we had been struggling,” she told him, observing him closely as he glanced over the document. “The conflict only made things worse.”

“If your men are not bringing in revenue, perhaps replacing them with some of mine would help.”

She shook her head. “The problem is not the men, it is the way we are doing business. For many years, we were stuck in the past, the old ways of making money that we had relied on for so long. A decade ago, I helped convince my husband that we would benefit from finding new sources of income, things that were less traceable and with greater opportunity for profit.”

Canute sat along the edge of her desk, his gaze steady and direct. “You saw the chance to adapt.”

“But we could not fully. Not while my husband was still alive. Back when he became head of the family, it was a different time—there were certain ways of operating. We are in a new world now.”

He nodded, with an expression equal parts warm and appraising. Emma felt her cheeks warm with the realization that he had barely taken his eyes off her since they came into the room.

“What do you propose?”

She leaned closer, pointing out the second document in the folder. At first glance, it might have looked similar to the summary statement, but the accountants had played no role in its creation. It was entirely hers.

For the last few days, Emma had been working on it, amassing a detailed strategy for investment and asset-building. Some of it was entirely above board—real estate and commercial development, venture capital, delving into cryptocurrency—and some of it decidedly less so, but they were all ideas she had been considering for some time, and with this new change in the leadership of the family, many of them suddenly seemed possible.

She watched him as his eyes skimmed over the pages, the lines on his brow deepening in thought.

“You came up with all of this?” he asked.

“I’ve had a few years to think.” Emma glanced down at the document and then back at him, deliberately flashing her blue eyes. “But I believe it could be enough to change the fortunes of this family—and of yours as well, now that the two are fully joined.”

It was clear by his expression that he did not miss the deeper connotation of her last two words.

“I agree,” Canute replied, the heat in his gaze unmistakable. He closed the folder, placing it on the top of her desk. “Later we can talk more about how you plan to implement all these ideas.”

“And for now?”

His grin was sharp, hungry. “Perhaps you might take me through the rest of the house. There must be some favorite corner you’d like to show me.”

Emma offered him a small, obliging nod—his request had been impromptu, but at that moment, she knew exactly where they could go.

Together, they made their way towards the back of the house and then down the tiled stairs into the bottom floor. Mostly it was an area for entertainment—her husband’s children from his previous marriage had hosted extravagant sleepovers and parties for their private school friends, making use of the screening room and the game room with its pool tables and the two-lane bowling alley. Beyond that, in the furthest reaches, kept behind a locked door and plenty of soundproofing, was their destination.

Once inside, she switched on the overhead lights, illuminating a long row of individual lanes separated by partitions. Beyond them was a wide space enclosed by concrete walls and, at the far end, a handful of paper targets in the shape of human silhouettes.

“You have a firing range in your house?” he asked, sounding slightly impressed.

Emma’s smile was coy. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Canute chuckled, then began to walk down the row of lanes, stopping behind one close to the center. On the shelf in front of him sat a pair of safety glasses and a case with padded ear muffs.

“Do you shoot much?”

“Some,” she said with a small shrug. “What my father taught me.”

Emma’s father, were she to be entirely honest, had taught her almost nothing. He had been very good at having children—eight by her mother and another three by his various mistresses—but terrible at raising them, handing that chore off to the women in his life who were more accommodating than he deserved. Emma had been the eldest daughter—and as fate would have it, the prettiest—and therefore destined to be a pawn in his schemes of allying himself with a powerful family. Besides an independent streak a mile long, the only thing he had given his children was the gift of his own favorite pastime: knowing how to fire a gun.

“Do you want to practice?” Canute asked.

Emma arched a brow. “Are you offering to show me?”

In the end, she accepted his unspoken invitation, walking down to where he stood, then slipping off her jacket and rolling the cuffs of her sleeves up to her forearms. Canute reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a Smith & Wesson 9mm, presumably the same one he had shot Streona with a few days earlier. He flipped the safety and then placed it in her hands, moving to stand behind her as he wrapped his arms around hers and extended them out towards the target.

“Shoulders back, face straight ahead,” he told her, pulling her closer towards him, his breath warm along the top of her ear. Emma could feel the solid strength of his chest against her back, the heat of him through the fabric of their clothes; were it not for the loaded weapon in her hands, she would have been tempted to spin around and quickly press her mouth to his. His voice lowered to a rough whisper, sending a shiver down her spine. “Set the target in range.” His palms slid down her wrists, covering her hands where she grasped the gun. “Breathe… and then fire. Shoot in between breaths to keep yourself steady.”

Stepping back from her, he reached towards the shelf for the glasses and the ear muffs, gently putting both into place over her eyes and ears.

Emma turned back towards the target, raising her arms and setting her sights on the middle of the silhouetted figure. Without a pause, she fired four shots in rapid succession, feeling the slight recoil of the gun in her grip each time she pulled the trigger.

Switching the safety back on, she set the gun down on the shelf and tugged the ear muffs down around her neck. With a quick press of the button beside her, the paper target began to move closer, finally stopping a few feet away.

There were four holes, all striking the dead center.

Canute stepped closer, his dark brows raised in surprise as he stared at the target.

As he stood in stunned silence, she sidled up alongside him. “Remind me again how I need to shoot between breaths,” Emma purred, her tone arch, the dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “I can’t be certain, but perhaps I’m not the one who should be practicing.”

He began to laugh, a deep, rich sound she realized she was becoming increasingly more fond of.

“Harald was right. You are definitely going to be keeping me on my toes.”

“Is that a problem?” she asked, pursing her lips.

“Not at all,” Canute replied, as he slowly wrapped an arm around her waist. “I am very much looking forward to it.”

He pulled her towards him, reaching his other hand out to cup her jaw. For all his size, he was so gentle with her, thumb tracing softly against her cheekbone, lips warm and teasing as they brushed against hers. It was so easy to become lost within his touch—within the desire-filled depths of his eyes—and tempting enough to want to remain there, and never be found. And it was clear she was not alone in feeling this way, based on how he was tugging her close, her hips now pressed to his, and the growing demands of his mouth.

“How long before you need to rejoin Harald and Leif?” she asked breathlessly.

Canute smiled, lips curling widely against hers. “Let them wait,” he growled, as he picked her up and set her down atop the waist-high shelf of the firing lane. Finding a space between Emma’s open thighs, he began to fist her shirt in his hands, his mouth searching for hers once again. “Like you said, I need more practice.”

#vikings: valhalla #vikings valhalla #emma of normandy #king canute #canute x emma #vikings netflix #fanfiction #mafia au

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leathercollectionus · 3 months

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Fabio Di Giannantonio Suit Ducati MotoGP 2023 Winter Test

Such an awesome Fabio Di Giannantonio Suit from the MotoGP Winter test 2023 when he ride with the official Ducati team. This suit has CE-approved safety to provide absolute safety on track or off track.

Fabio Di Giannantonio Suit Ducati MotoGP 2023 Winter Test

#Ducati #Ducati Leathers #ducati motorcycle suit #ducati racing suit #Ducati Suit #ducati suits #fabio di giannantonio suit #motogp #motogp suit #motorcycle race suits #racing suits

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samflynn89 · 1 year

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Sam Flynn Bio

General Information:

Name: Sam Flynn

Nickname: Sammy or Kiddo (Usually only by Alan, his dad or his grandparents)

Age: 27

Date of Birth: July 18, 1983

Sexuality: Aroace

Appearance:

Height: 6’2”

Hair: Sandy brown, short cropped, and messy when he’s not working. When at ENCOM - or a work event - it’s styled slightly, only because he has PR people who fuss over his appearance. Often sticks up because of hair gel, and from him frequently running his hands through it. If he lets it grow out long enough, it will curl slightly, a remnant of the childhood curls he used to sport.

Skin: Light dusting of freckles along his cheeks.

Distinguishing marks: Various scars from past reckless behavior, usually thin/small enough that they blend in. Standout scars include: the cut left on his shoulder by Rinzler in the disc wars arena and a jagged scar that runs the length of his left thigh from the time he fell off his bike and sliced it open on debris in the road. His hands are usually nicked with tiny cuts from working on his motorcycle and there’s oil under his fingernails that he's hardly ever able to fully get out.

Eyes: Blue, people always said he shared that with his dad. Sam likes to think he looks closer to his mom in this regard.

Clothing: Black, grey, dark green, anything that doesn’t draw attention. Sam prefers the simplicity of a t-shirt and jeans. He often sports a leather jacket with Adidas tennis shoes.

Personality

Temperament: Impulsive. Sam often struggles to think before he acts. He’s driven by his emotions, which can be tumultuous and overwhelming at times. Due to his history with loss and abandonment, he tends to be more of an introvert. He prefers the company of his dog to that of other people. He can be charming when he needs to be, though he prefers to avoid encounters where being sociable is required.

Moral/Ethical Beliefs: Sam idolizes his father, even into adulthood, and it’s his father’s morals that have shaped Sam’s views. Sam is a firm believer that knowledge and tech (especially ENCOM tech) should be something easily accessible. Though he profits from ENCOM’s successes, he would rather give their tech away for free than keep it behind a paywall.

Hobbies: Working on his bike – Sam enjoys the feeling of putting something back together, he likes being able to look back on his work at the end of the day and see it in a better state than when he started. This mindset has also followed him into the kitchen, where Sam has found a love for cooking. After particularly stressful days, you’d find him working on the Ducati or assembling a complex dish for dinner. When he needs to give his brain a break, he reads, usually something tech or mechanic related. Sam also has a love for the ocean, or any body of water, where he can listen to the water lap against the shore and be reminded of a childhood spent skipping stones with his dad or taking walks along the shoreline with his grandparents.

Habits: Picks at the skin around his fingernails to the point that they will bleed, biting at the inside of his cheek when he’s anxious until he can feel the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. While he doesn’t drink to the point of intoxication, Sam does reach for a beer when he’s feeling overwhelmed, or anxious, telling himself he only drinks enough to take the edge off.

Likes: Alan, Marv, Quorra, riding his bike, causing general mischief and mayhem.

Dislikes: Suits, ties, corporate America, most of the ENCOM board.

Fears: Losing the last bit of his family.

Strengths: Excels at any sort of parkour or height based stunts, he has no fear of heights or of injuring himself. He’s an expert motorcyclist. He’s smart and quick on his feet when he needs to be. What he lacks in brute strength, he makes up for in agility and instinct.

Weaknesses: Analytical thinking, he’s an act before he thinks type of person. He also tends to push people away when they get to close, a defense mechanism meant to protect himself from further grief, but which only leaves him further isolated.

Short Term Goals: Take back his father’s company, rebuild his dad’s bike, help Quorra adjust to life outside of the grid.

Long Term Goals: Rebuild the grid.

Hopes and Desires: He hasn’t told anyone, not even Quorra, because he thinks admitting it out loud will make him face the impossibility of it, but he’s rebuilding the grid in hopes of bringing his dad back. He desires the comfort of familiarity and safety, something he hasn’t had since his childhood.

Occupation: ENCOM CEO, merely in title though. While he has technically taken back the company, he lacks any business acumen to lead it. He acts as a figurehead for the time being, which he hates, and is seeking a way around.

Gear

Always has: Ducati keys, chip that the grid is stored on, a picture of Marv that he keeps in his wallet and a key to Alan’s house.

Sometimes has: His motorcycle helmet, gloves and a bracelet that Quorra made for him out of scrap metal from the garage.

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