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f1goat · 1 month

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more than friends ; lando norris + part five

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four

You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good.

Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks.

“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return.

“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure.

“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.

You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate.

Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room.

When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you.

You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?

Lando: 5 minutes babe x

Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))

Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.

You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?

When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you.

Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.

For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you.

It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.

You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up?

Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time.

He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts.

You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly.

“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you.

Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.

“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly.

Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.

When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it.

He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine.

Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling.

“I need you,” you softly whimper.

Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself.

You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.

He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.

“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you.

He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick.

“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.

He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh.

“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him.

“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this.

“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”

Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.

“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”

Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.

“More,” you let out.

Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it.

“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.

He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.

“You,” you whimper.

“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”

Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.

“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you.

“Fucking tease,” you groan.

“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.

You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy.

He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.

In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him.

You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them.

Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?

“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.

“More?” He asks you.

“Please,” you beg.

“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.

“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips.

“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.

Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly.

“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”

His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else.

Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure.

“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.

He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself.

“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan.

“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.

Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.

“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.

He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future.

Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”

Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne.

Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner.

“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.

“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”

“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest.

“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs.

“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando.

“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”

“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.

“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.

“Deal,” you react.

Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart.

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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fyorina · 1 month

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ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.

Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.

Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.

“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed.

He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.

“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap.

You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.

“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch.

He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.

“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.

He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him.

It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.

It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…

Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.

The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs x you

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inamindfarfaraway · 7 months

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I love how Paul's character in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is defined entirely by a lack of desire, or desire defined only as 'not what I don't want'. "What Do You Want, Paul?" is a big joke about what a terrible narrative protagonist he is. But it's deeper than that. Throughout the show, even in the smallest, most insignificant phrasing, this man only ever expresses wants in these negative forms, as if he's incapable of feeling attraction in itself rather than simply avoiding what he dislikes. And only avoiding! He never says that he hates anything, either! That would give him passion, drive, perhaps the goal of actively removing that thing. No, he exclusively uses the verb hate in past tense.

He doesn't like musicals, singing, dancing or public performances. He makes this very clear, to the point that it's one of his most significant character traits. At no point does he ever talk about liking any media.

He doesn't want to do social activities.

He doesn't want to give away his money. About both this and the above, he can provide no logical explanation or moral justification. He just doesn't feel like them.

He always gets black coffee because it has "no cream, no sugar, nothing in it"; that is to say, he might not necessarily love it, merely prefer it over its sweeter or more complex alternatives.

He doesn't believe that Emma should have to sing and dance at work - he doesn't want her life to be so unfair and annoying to the both of them.

He doesn't want to obstruct the workings of his office (saying "that's the last thing I want" triggers "What Do You Want, Paul?").

He says, "I wanna go home!" when Mr Davidson is singing at him, but means that he wants to be somewhere safe and not stuck in this incredibly uncomfortable situation.

He doesn't want to die.

He specifically doesn't want to die in Clivesdale, because fuck Clivesdale.

He doesn't want to join the Hive.

He doesn't want to leave Hatchetfield, even when it's the site of an alien invasion that is his personal worst nightmare. He actually says that "All things considered, I like Hatchetfield", arguably an exception to the standard. However, he's also well aware of the town's flaws and problems. He grew up one of its poorer residents, attending the inferior, underfunded Sycamore High School where he casually admits the students "hated [themselves]" and having to watch its more respectable rival Hatchetfield High's school play. He has no strong investment in his tedious middle-class office job. He doesn't get along with some of his fellow townsfolk, like his coworker Ted and all the employees of Beanies except Emma. He awkwardly evades giving to charity and the homeless every morning on his way to work. His life is decidedly not one of utter bliss, and yet it's good enough for him in that he doesn't have the energy, ambition or imagination to want anything more. Since he's "been here [his] whole life", his affection for his hometown could be more an aversion to everywhere else or the hassle of travelling. Sticking with the devil he intimately knows.

He doesn't think badly of Emma, and says so because he doesn't want her to or believe that he does after learning that she helped make a "hated" experience of his happen.

He doesn't want to let Bill die, which is why he goes with Bill to rescue Alice. His heroism and proactiveness at the turning point of the end of Act One start to notably erode his apathy, but his phrasing reaffirms his negative motivations: "Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mama Mia!", "Emma, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to draw a line in the sand. And I will never be in a fucking musical."

He doesn’t want Bill to blame himself for Alice's endangerment, stay in the area once Alice is revealed to be a vessel of the Hive or kill himself.

He doesn't want to do some light reading on the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.

He has no positive motivation. He breaks one of the most basic rules of being a fictional character, let alone the main character the audience is supposed to root for. He isn't just an antihero, he's an anti-protagonist. Although this could easily make him boring or unsympathetic, he manages to seem relatable. Real. Human. He captures so genuinely an ordinary person living an ordinary life suddenly trapped in a horror story. How many of can honestly articulate "one concrete goal that motivates all [our] actions"? Even if you can, you wouldn't undergo a narratively fulfilling and thematically cohesive arc related to that desire the way a fictional character would. We're all essentially just trying to survive each day. To make or keep our lives however we define 'good enough'. We may not have a crystal clear picture of our ideal life, but I bet we all have a long list of things we don't want in it. We're all Paul.

What more appropriate antagonist for this man to face, then, than a force that exists to strip people of their autonomy, their individuality, their personhood, and force them to play archetypical characters in a conventional narrative? The Hive observes that Paul is an anti-protagonist and takes offence to this. It seeks to convert him into his antithesis, the "bold" "leading man" of its musical who the audience can "sympathize with". The Infected highlight this in the opening song, in which they eagerly anticipate and prepare the audience for his entrance... and he misses his cue. He isn't following their script. Perhaps that's why the audience is able to believe in this average, unassuming antihero's potential to succeed, to defeat the Hive or at the very least escape it, despite how fraught and grim the situation becomes. The story certainly proves itself to be cruel to its characters; but Paul doesn't operate like a normal character. The Hive promises to fulfil people's desires and make them happy throughout the play. Charlotte, Bill, Hidgens and Ted's deaths are connected to, either in direct causality or thematic relevance, their respective desires for Sam's love, Alice's safety, world peace (and the glory of a musical career) and Ted's own survival. Paul is uniquely immune to this pattern of death related to a core motivation.

Until:

"I can't leave without Emma”, “a friend of mine."

"Is there a chance of something more?"

"I think so. I'd like there to be. I want there to be."

He wants Emma, her life and her happiness and maybe, just maybe, her love. He wants to love her. To spend time with her. For the first time ever, he wants more out of life, not less. He's a little bit more of a character. After the Infected reprise the "Did you hear the word?" section of the opening song, building up to his appearance, this time he does enter the theatre, coming down the aisle just as he was meant to. Right on cue. Paul is now vulnerable to the narrative - the Hive's narrative. And the Hive's control.

Still he resists, even while doubting if he was ever really happy before. Not only does he use his final words, fittingly, to declare that he doesn't like musicals, but before that he firmly refutes the Hive, and the philosophy behind it and all the pressures and temptatations it might represent: "It doesn't matter what I want." What matters is the good of the world. Emma. Love. Hope. Freedom. Integrity. Humanity, which must be wonderful if we can make sacrifices like this for all the right reasons.

Rest in peace, Paul Matthews. You were the opposite of a conventional protagonist, but a true hero.

#paul matthews #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #tgwdlm hive #hatchetfield meta #tgwdlm meta #tgwdlm analysis #analysis

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gloomy-angel-ing · 4 months

Text

Decrypting the fragmented messages from Martyn‘s PiratesSMP finale (I‘m back with lore brainrot yay!)

———

In his stream there‘s 6 messages he gets with only parts revealed. The rest looks like this with the strange symbols always changing.

(example)

So here’s all the timestamps for the messages & what I’ve been able to get from them. I can‘t ensure they are correct. (The text in italics is stuff that I‘m still unsure about & the rows of 5s are the words I haven‘t been able to decrypt. I‘ll explain why that is below.)

- - 1:15:21 - -

Martyn!?

- - 1:38:48 - -

That has to be you? What took you so long to get out here?

- - 1:46:38 - - (message confirmed by martyn)

There isn‘t much time left! You‘ll be alright so long as you hurry.

- - 1:47:43 - -

C.H.E.S.T have taken an invention/infection and tweaked it. The world got locked in. Iris 5555 failsafe 555 di5 t5e5 5i555.

Edit: You could get locked in. is another solution I found. I think this might fit better.

- - 1:59:47 - -

The portal is close. We can‘t risk them seeing it. 55 5555 a distraction so you can slip away.

- - 2:13:05 - -

Be swift, keep calm & remember your training. Ill only be able to keep it open n for a few more minutes then I‘d have to quarantine this world.

———

I‘ll try my best to explain how I got to these results now (I hope this explanation makes sense to someone lol)

Firstly I looked at all these messages, screen recorded them and then did some research on how to even make them look like this. I found a tutorial and during this video I noticed that not every fragmented letters looks the same. They are based on the width of the original text. An i is a very slim letter so the fragmented (or as it is apparently called, obfuscated) text would be slim as well. The opposite goes for a wide letter like w and d which will result in a wide fragmented character.

With this info and the example message Martyn revealed I was able to test and confirm this. Every fragmented symbol has a set width, reaching from 1 to 5 pixels. The fragmented characters constantly change, but they always stay the same size. So all I had to do now was skip through my recordings of the messages and find frames where the I can count the pixels of every missing character and write the number down. It took very long and I had to check several times because I kept making mistakes and miscounting. But I got these results:

- Message 2: 5553 has 35 55 you! 5553 3554 you 55 2555 to 553 553 here?

- Message 4: C.H.E.S.T 5555 2545n 55 155e53155 555 3w5545d 131 555 5o525 553 25c455 151 3515 5555 failsafe 555 di5 35e5 515551

- Message 5: 555 555352 15 52o551 55 55523 r154 t555 555155 131 55 5555 5 51535a53155 55 555 555 5l15 away.

- Message 6: 55 s51431 k555 5525 5 55555555 55u5 355151551 3ll 5525 55 5525 35 4555 i3 5555 n 455 5 few 5555 min5355 5he5 325 5555 35 quarantine 3515 55525111

(didn’t do 1 & 3 because 1 was kinda obvious and 3 was already revealed. )

Now I know the amount of missing characters & how many pixels wide they are. In the minecraft text font almost all characters are five pixels wide, as you see above. But there are a few outliers:

4 pixels: lowercase k & f

3 pixels: lowercase t and uppercase i

2 pixels: lowercase L and apostrophes (there is also a 1 pixel apostrophe but it doesn‘t seem like it‘s used here)

1 pixel: lower i as well as dots, exclamation marks and commas

With this I was able to read some of the missing letters. The rest was guessing. Or I guess using wordle solvers and other websites to find fitting words. That’s how I got to the results above.

———

Additional notes on the messages:

— I don‘t know if the word in message 4 for is invention or infection. I think both would work. Infection could mean some kind of virus?

— Iris is the only word I could find that would fit with a capital i (and make sense in the context of pirates) but I haven‘t been able to form a logical sentence with it. I‘m assuming it is a capital letter because it‘s a new sentence. But it could technically be a t. (if anyone has ideas on this pls tell me..)

— Don‘t know what the missing words in message 5 are. I don‘t think they would change the meaning greatly though. (make doesn‘t work bc k is 4 pixels)

— The italics words in message 6 I‘m still a bit unsure about. There is some other word groups that could fit, but none of them made much sense in the whole sentence. I do think it’s possible that I‘m wrong there.

— Edit, bc I forgot to add this. But I don‘t know why there is a singular n in message 6. It is either a strange way to shorten and which would not match the rest of the writing style at all or it is a typo which I don‘t think is that unlikely tbh. I think the way the message would have to be written (with commands I assume) would make it easy to make a mistake there, so maybe it is just the n from open.

— Edit 2: Missing part in message 5 might be "We need a distraction …" (suggestion from @.ilexdiapason)

———

I am honestly very surprised that I got this far. Not what I was expecting when I started this. Obviously these messages weren‘t intended to be decrypted like his — which is why I don‘t think I will ever figure out the full messages — but I wanted to try anyway. Martyn has said he‘ll reveal them at some point so I guess I‘ll find out how correct I am. I definitely had my fun with this, also big thanks to the two people (once and percival) in Martyns discord that were replying to my messages while I was doing this lol <3

#inthelittlewood #itlw #itlwlore #pirates smp #martyn inthelittlewood

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shanastoryteller · 6 months

Note

Star Trek please!! Happy Halloween

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Admiral Archer is unwilling to take his rescission at face value and demands a more complete explanation. To Spock's relief, and the gathered students' disappointment, he's willing to hear it in his private office.

Captain Pike slips in behind them, which gets him an irritated scowl but the admiral allows it. Spock is only marginally surprised by this. Admiral Archer and Captain Pike are known to be on good terms and James Kirk had entered the academy on Captain Pike's recommendation.

"Explain," Admiral Archer demands.

Spock hesitates.

Starfleet is of course aware of the events that took place on Tarsus IV and so they must be equally aware of James Kirk's role in it. While Admiral Archer certainly has the clearance to know the particulars, it does not mean that he does, and Spock is loathe to reveal these particulars, even to someone who could find them out himself. Additionally, Captain Pike does not have the necessary clearance, and while he does not think that James Kirk would allow his presence if he did not wish him to know, or had not already told him, Spock cannot be certain and there is no way for him to ask.

"Commander," Admiral Archer snaps. "Is this a joke to you?"

"No, sir," he answers. He doesn't find any of this funny at all.

James Kirk steps up next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. Spock resists the urge to flinch and shoots him a disapproving look. The contact is not skin on skin, but any casual contact is discouraged. James Kirk is very well aware of Vulcan customs.

Then again, his point of contact for Vulcan culture is Sybok. His brother had been significantly more... affectionate after Tarsus IV. Spock wonders if that's something he picked up from his association with James Kirk.

"It's alright," James Kirk says warmly. "Spock, tell Admiral Archer whatever you want him to know."

He doesn't remove his hand. Human's run hot, their physiology not perfectly calibrated to survive in the deep heat of the desert, but even still James Kirk's hand feels unusually warm.

"I was unaware of Cadet Kirk's background with facing impossible odds when I made my accusation," he says. "Having been made aware of it, my perspective has shifted. Cadet Kirk does not allow rules or the constraints of logic prevent him from doing what he believes must be done. This was what he was demonstrating by bypassing and reprogramming my system."

He can feel James Kirk staring at him but he doesn't take his eyes of Admiral Archer.

Admiral Archer frowns. "You didn't know he was on Tarsus IV with your brother?"

That he already knows is a source of relief. The incredulity is less.

"Spock had exams the time I went to Vulcan," James Kirk says. "Sybok loves an excuse to go off-planet, so we usually meet up on Earth. Spock and I have never met before." He turns to him with a grin that Spock is distinctly uncomfortable having aimed in his direction. "I should have known the second I saw you. You look a lot like your mother."

Being compared to one's mother on Vulcan is a high compliment. Or it's supposed to be. Spock's had those same words hurled at him before, but it was with cruelty, as a way to demean him rather than honor the woman who bore him.

James Kirk say the words easily, exactly as they are intended to be spoken.

"You're driving me to drink," Admiral Archer says.

Spock has no idea how to appropriately respond to that.

"What about me? You're driving me to drink," James Kirk says, "which is driving Bones to as of yet unknown heights of nagging. The stress isn't good for him but he keeps threatening me with hypos when I tell him that. Can't I just be concerned for my friend?"

That is not an appropriate response on top of being incomprehensible.

Admiral Archer rubs his forehead. "Chris."

"Sir," Captain Pike returns, grabs the back of James Kirk's jacket, and hauls him out of there like grabbing a wayward kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Spock stands there, unsure, until Admiral Archer glances up and says, "You too, Commander. I'll consider this matter closed."

He nods, "Thank you, Sir," and steps outside to an empty hall. Captain Pike and James Kirk are nowhere to be seen.

Once he returns to his quarters, he video calls his brother.

He doesn't pick up.

Typical.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #star trek #jim: i will refer to spock respectfully and give him typical vulcan compliments #spock who has been disrespected every day of his life: *vibrates in place*

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jessamine-rose · 10 months

Text

꒰ The Spider and the Fly ꒱

This is for my hormones every artist/ writer who dragged me into the Miguel O’Hara fandom. Your content is absolutely amazing, and I hope this piece can measure up to the brainrot you’ve given me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Tw:: YANDERE, kidnapping, manipulation, blood, violence, self-deprecation, mention of suicide, bondage, noncon, nsfw, MDNI

Note:: Female reader, double POV, ATSV spoilers, Best Wingman Award goes to LYLA

♡ 7.6k words under the cut ♡

i. spiral orb web

You’ve always been attracted to pretty things, and that includes spiderwebs.

In your eyes, the spider’s craft is the closest thing to art in your everyday life. It is a natural phenomenon marked by intricacy and utility, yet one so easily overlooked due to its associations with pest behavior.

Fortunately, public reception has shifted since the emergence of Spider-Man. It is thanks to your “Friendly Neighborhood Hero” that the spiderweb has been rebranded as a symbol of safety. Be it a weapon or a life-sized shelter, there is a certain beauty to those human creations.

Though the same cannot be said for Miguel O’Hara’s.

Spider-Man 2099’s webs belong to their own category. His are scarlet, bright as lasers, conspicuous and dangerous in equal amounts. When Miguel traps a villain in his webs, one is reminded that a spiderweb is the tool of a predator.

Miguel’s webs are not the only thing which set him apart from the other Spider-Men. He has more inhuman powers—claws, fangs, paralytic venom. His jaded personality and intimidating stature are also far removed from the public image which inspires hope in civilians.

Perhaps that is why you find him all the more alluring. Or it could be simply because he is the one who saved your life.

He’s done more than rescue you. After catching you midfall, Miguel regards you with shock and…pity, you think. It is the only logical explanation as to why he is being so gentle with you when your dimension’s stability is a greater concern.

It also explains why he allows you to follow him into the departing portal. No, follow is a self-preserving term. More like burst into tears, ran after him, then told him your pathetic life story and how anywhere is better than here.

Much to the surprise of his coworkers, he relents.

꒰♡꒱

At first, Miguel thinks you are an Anomaly.

It is one thing to find you in another dimension. It has happened before, and he always avoided your Variants for their sake. But you are inescapable.

Among every version of you, the happiest one was his Variant’s wife. Then there’s you, the one whose life would’ve ended if not for his interference.

He tries to justify his decision. Your departure doesn’t affect the Canon, so no harm will come to your universe. And judging by your personal data, you would be much safer in a different dimension.

His dimension, to be specific. Where he can keep a close eye on you.

He is also logical enough to recognize you as your own person. You aren’t his wife, and his observations support that theory. Your hairstyle is different. You code-switch more often. You sleep and wake up at earlier hours. You’re not as confident in your abilities.

You are alike and unlike her in so many ways, yet he still sees a spark of his sun in you.

ii. funnel web

Since then, you’ve resided in Nueva York.

In return for permanent residency, you are hired as a secretary for the Spider Society. It’s civilian work, nothing dangerous, but more purposeful than what you’d ever achieved in your old job.

Strangely enough, you encounter Miguel quite often.

At first, it feels totally warranted. He is the only person you know in Earth-928, so he guides you through every step of your adjustment. He gives you a Dimensional Travel Watch, shows you around the facility, and instructs you on how not to mess up the multiverse.

After your first week, he invites you to move in with him. Miguel claims that his home already has an extra bedroom, though LYLA’s remarks suggest otherwise. Regardless, you accept since it means a familiar roommate and better living quarters.

How thoughtful of him.

꒰♡꒱

“It’s easier to look after her if we’re under the same roof,” he rationalizes.

“Sure,” says LYLA. She flickers above his shoulder and watches the holographic screens with him. “And it’s not because she reminds you of a certain someone?”

Ignoring her, Miguel switches to a different camera angle. Peter B. Parker walks past your desk and does a double take, and he is promptly summoned for a meeting.

No doubt, there will be questions about you.

“What about the redesigns?” LYLA pulls up a screen showing two bedroom layouts, one collapsed and the other abandoned. “Should we pick one? Merge them? Think of a new design? Or we can ask for her input, seeing how she clearly has better taste than you.”

One of the monitors catches their attention, announcing an Anomaly in Earth-131222.

“We can talk about this later.” With that, Miguel opens a new screen and analyzes the data. On second thought, he adds, “She prefers thin bed sheets.”

Later that day, he escorts you home. Your mood has greatly improved since your change in environment, though you’re still quiet around him. LYLA compliments your coat, a purple remnant of her closet which Miguel lent to you, but he ignores her knowing glances.

You wear it differently, he notices. It’s the same article of clothing, but fully buttoned with a silver brooch on one lapel. The effect is significantly less casual.

“So, this is it.” Your expression turns hesitant as Miguel unlocks the front door. “Are you really sure that I can stay here?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure,” he points out.

And it means less time monitoring the CCTVs.

“And you haven’t seen your room yet!” adds LYLA. “We know you’ll love it.”

“I guess it would be impolite to back out now.” You follow him inside and remove your coat. “I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”

He pauses.

That green dress…he could swear that he’s seen it on you before. Many shades lighter, paired with a bright smile, to match the T-shirt of the little girl by your—

“Miguel?” You frown at him, then your gaze flits to your dress. “Is there something wrong with my outfit? I didn’t commit a serious fashion crime in your dimension, did I?”

“It’s nothing,” he says quickly. But upon noticing your lingering anxiety, he admits, “You look good in it. That’s all.”

You nearly drop your coat. “W-What? Are you serious?”

Miguel could swear that you look more shocked than during your first meeting. If he were to come close enough to touch your face, it would surely feel warmer than average.

That’s enough.

“I meant what I said,” he replies, walking ahead. “Do you want to look around or are you just going to stand there?”

That snaps you out of your fluster. You follow him into the living room, a small smile making its way to your face. “The living room is pretty. Was it you or LYLA who designed it?”

The change of topic is a godsend. As Miguel shows you around, you recover from his comment and focus on your surroundings. LYLA is the next to admire your dress, winking at Miguel as she asks about the color, and he takes note of your reaction.

More vulnerable to flattery, regardless of speaker. Extremely happy afterwards.

His wife wasn’t like that. Usually, she’d be the one teasing Miguel with praises, pick-up lines, and inside jokes which he pretended to understand.

Still, it’s nostalgic to sit next to you on the sofa. He could get used to this again.

iii. lace web

In the following months, you fully adjust to your new life.

Your job in the Spider Society is manageable, fun even. Aside from the Spider-Man of your dimension, your close coworkers are kind enough to welcome you into their group. They look out for you, include you in their conversations, and appreciate your hard work.

They even indulge your aesthetic interests! One word from you, and they are already comparing webs. Among the various designs and techniques, however, none have fascinated you as much as Miguel’s.

…You do wish he’d let you roam Nueva York more often.

In case of Canon events, you need to get his permission first. Then you have to wait for him or an assigned Spider-Man to accompany you, and the latter is always a stranger whom you find difficult to bond with. Conversations with LYLA can only do so much.

You’ve recommended your coworkers before, but Miguel doubts their reliability. And every time you invite them to go with you, a new mission cancels your plans. If not for the official records, you’d suspect them of making excuses.

It’s a bit frustrating, honestly, but you know better than to complain.

You should already be satisfied with Miguel. He is an agreeable roommate, he trusts your capabilities, and he acknowledges your efforts. And no matter how closed-off or overworked he is, he's still deemed you worthy of his company.

…He is also very nice to look at. Muscular physique, handsome face, a serious gaze occasionally tinted in red. It’s a shame that he rarely smiles.

In another dimension, a better version of you would have definitely pursued him.

꒰♡꒱

“...and get this, he can shoot webs with stabilimenta. The designs are so detailed!”

“Oh, wow.” Miguel barely looks up from the monitors, grimacing at yet another Anomaly. He quickly sends an alert to the dimension’s Spider-Man. “What else?”

Behind him, you suddenly grow quiet.

“Now that I think about it, you must already know that since you recruited him. Sorry if that wasn’t anything worth listening to…are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

“You’re not.” It comes out faster than intended.

He turns around. Once again, you look surprised by his words, but you don’t ask for confirmation this time. You just nod and return to your digital reports.

Why did you visit his laboratory again? You said it was a false alarm from LYLA, who’d likely sent it on purpose. Lately, she’s been on his case about how rude it is to “avoid” you through extra work. He thinks he could easily do without distractions or triggered memories, however.

Miguel opens a private file and thinks of what you’d just told him. Apart from concerned looks from Jess and Peter B, most of the Spider-Men haven’t given you any trouble. Your coworkers, however, are a different matter.

23) ______ laughed because of some stupid pickup line from Web-Slinger. Smiled when he complimented her outfit (purple blouse, black high-waist skirt, favorite heels, pearl hairpin).

24) ______ talked about the other agents’ webs again.* She admires stabilimenta.

“You should be careful with your friends,” he tells you. He types a few more observations and closes the screen. “The last thing I need is for you to get involved in their mess. Don’t think that I can’t see them slacking on the job.”

To your credit, you don’t apologize. “Noted.”

“Miguel!” LYLA appears and moves the screens around him. “We have an Anomaly in Earth-332. Spider-Woman called for backup.”

Great, another one. It must be a persistent villain if Jess needs his help.

“I’m on it.” He types the coordinates on his watch and activates the portal.

“How dangerous is it?”

He stops, just a few meters short of leaving.

You leave your desk, an anxious look on your face. “I know you told me not to worry before, but I really have no idea of what your battles are like. So…will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you. A hug comes to mind—it always calmed her anxieties—but he instead gives you a shoulder pat. “Don’t wait for me. If it takes a while, LYLA will call someone to escort you home.”

“Okay.” You’re still standing in front of him, but he can feel the tension leaving your body. “It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, right? I’ll prepare a nice victory feast so look forward to that.”

A few more seconds wouldn’t hurt. “You don’t have to.”

You pout at him. “But I want to. Besides, it’s not fair that you are so good at making my favorite meals. I still haven’t perfected yours.”

Secretly, Miguel thinks your cooking tastes better than his wife’s. But whatever keeps you distracted while he is saving the multiverse.

It’s also…nice to talk about work with you. With her, he had to act normal and make up excuses for his sudden disappearances. It’s refreshing to see your concern and know that you are praying for his safety. To imagine your relieved smile when he comes home.

“Miguel!” LYLA reappears between the two of you. “I hate to ruin the moment, but Spider-Woman could really use some help right now. I know you’re counting the seconds!”

No more time to waste.

“I’ll see you later.” He lets go of you and walks into the portal.

“Take care!” you call after him.

iv. triangle web

“Welcome home, love!”

As the door opened, Miguel resisted the urge to flinch. The lights were always too bright.

His Variant’s wife wasted no time hugging him. “What took you so long?”

“Something at work came up,” he explained, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Again?” You closed the door behind him, a frown replacing your smile. “That’s the third time this month. Is there a problem in your office?”

“It’s…classified information. But nothing to worry about, mi sol.”

The house felt lively, even with Gabriella temporarily away. Warm lights. Family photos. Personal belongings scattered about. Your cheerful presence leading him.

The TV in the living room was on, paused at the beginning of a new film. Movie nights were an old family routine, he’d learned. The first time Miguel arrived in your husband’s place, you and Gabriella had agreed on an animated classic.

“Okay then. I’m just glad your office isn’t in the same area as that crime from earlier. Was there any debris blocking the road?”

“Not much.” And definitely none on the route to your workplace.

Upstairs, Miguel took a shower and contacted LYLA. The Anomaly had been returned to its original dimension. If he were lucky, none would appear tomorrow.

You were on the sofa when he came back. Wordlessly, he sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. The film began playing.

“I called Gabriella,” you murmured. “She and her friends are already planning their next sleepover. I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you gift-wrapped her present?”

A pearl ring glinted above your intertwined hands. “It’s in my closet.”

Note to self: Ask LYLA to record the party. It will be a nice memory to revisit.

He smiled at you. “I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

The movie had a happy ending. It was, in your words, a cinematic masterpiece.

“That’s how it ends?”

Your outburst prompts Miguel to face the opposite end of the sofa. In the dim light, he can easily make out the unimpressed look on your face.

“The ending looks decent to me,” he muses. “If you ignore the logistics of their reunion, the film is entertaining enough to rewatch.”

“I think it could be more realistic. And you’re saying that across the multiverse, this is the most common version of the movie?”

“In five dimensions, to be exact. Others have the same ending but different actors.”

You pause. “I’ll admit that Earth-928’s version has superior costume design. But I still prefer my dimension’s neutral ending. Maybe it’s because our societal values are different.”

The closing credits continue, but neither of you leave the sofa. You’re still criticizing the film under your breath, unaware that Miguel can understand every word. He does agree that the happy ending causes a few plot holes.

At least with you, he can adjust the brightness levels.

“We can watch your version next time,” he offers, reaching for the remote with his webs.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

He turns off the TV. “We can do it on my next day off.”

Knowing LYLA, this won’t be the last time she plans a movie night without telling him.

“Well, what else could I do?” she asked after he privately demanded an explanation. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, Miguel. You could really use a break, and so does ______.”

You take the remote from him and untangle the web fluid. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

Miguel gives you an odd look. “For what reason?”

You twist the web in your hands, forming string figures.

“As a decoration, maybe. Oh, and for the record, I don’t go around collecting webs from your coworkers. I just find yours particularly interesting.”

Weirdo. “My webs are functional like the others’. That’s all there is to it.”

You look him in the eye this time. “Hey, you should give yourself more credit. It’s my belief that every spiderweb is a work of art. And before you call me overly romantic, there have always been artists who thought they were worth noticing."

The web loops around your ring finger, in the place where her wedding ring used to be.

He averts his gaze. “I don’t see it that way. But whatever works for you.”

Another moment of silence.

“There is another reason,” you add softly.

He side-eyes you. “Is it about that day? You don’t need to keep thanking me for saving your life. As I said, I was doing my job and anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I wasn’t talking about you catching me.”

Oh, you meant that.

The web tangles in your hands.

“Listen.” You take a deep breath, eyes on your lap. “I know you’ve been avoiding this subject. Maybe it's so I don’t feel indebted to you or pressured into reliving bad memories. But…I just want you to know that I’m glad you foiled my plans.”

…It would be best to let you finish first.

Your voice shakes. “I mean, you’re smart, aren’t you? Even without my meltdown, you would’ve figured out that my fall had nothing to do with the Anomaly in my dimension.”

He did. And that was precisely why Miguel mistook you for one at first. It wasn’t just your identity but the fact that you were found in danger after the Anomaly had been captured.

Ten minutes post-battle. The undamaged state of the nearby buildings. The passive acceptance in your demeanor.

He can vividly recall the rest of that day. Those hours spent studying your personal data, identifying every action and condition which diverged from his wife's path.

A loud sigh. “I just—I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? I thought it would be easier to put an end to my mistakes, then you had to show up. And thanks to you, life has been great! I like this world, I’m not alone, I still have my personal issues to work through but I’m trying to do better. But yeah…I’m just sorry for forcing you to get involved.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists. He scoots closer to you and puts his hand on top of yours. “I made the choice to bring you here. And I couldn’t exactly leave you, knowing your situation.”

That is a lie. Rather, half of his thoughts were about his wife and how he’d been able to sustain her happiness. How that farce proved he could do the same for you.

“Either way, I’m grateful.” You look up, your lips curving into a shy smile. “I’m really happy now, Miguel. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ll never regret my decision to follow a cryptic stranger into a portal. Even if it meant learning that the multiverse is in constant danger. Or that my favorite film has an alternate ending which makes no sense to me whatsoever.”

Has his wife ever looked at him like that? There is a soft brilliance to your gaze, wholly reserved for him. It triggers a warm feeling in his chest.

The moment is quickly ended when you cover your face with a cushion.

“Anyway! If you don’t mind, I’d really love to move on and talk about something else. How was your mission earlier? Is Earth-199999 still giving you a hard time?”

You’re still seated next to him, legs touching. Your tone leaves no room for objection.

He lets go of your hand. “You would not believe what kind of shocking messes we’ve had to deal with. We are never recruiting Dr. Strange or his little nerd.”

“You can tell me all about it.” You untangle his web from your hands; it loops around your pinky finger this time. “I’m here for you, okay? For as long as you’ll have me.”

v. mesh web

There have been more Anomalies lately.

You walk past the detained villains, silently counting them. Their increase in numbers has kept the Spider Society on high alert for the past weeks. While it means more documents for you, the effect on Miguel’s stress levels is concerning.

Come to think of it, has he returned from his mission yet? If not, you hope the cafeteria’s takeout boxes have a self-heating function. As you get closer to Miguel's laboratory, you hear the door open. The sound is followed by two sets of footsteps.

“Do you think it’s healthy for him?”

“I’m more worried about ______.”

You stop walking.

Is that Peter B and Jess? Why are they talking about you?

Jess’s tone is reproachful. “The poor girl has been through so much already. It’s not safe for her to be here, at least in HQ. He knows that she is a different case from Gwen.”

“You know how Miguel is. I’ve already asked about her, and he won’t tell me anything new. Not even my Super Adorable Mayday album could convince him.”

“I don’t like this, Peter.”

Their footsteps become louder. You go back to the entrance of the hallway, just within earshot but hopefully far enough to evade their Spider-Senses.

“Neither do I. But you should’ve seen him when he lost their daughter, Jess. Now think of his wife: He never got to see ______ before she disintegrated. Then one day, out of nowhere, after staying away from countless Variants, he finds a version of her who needs him.”

…What the hell are they talking about?

The walls close in on you. You take a step back, followed by another.

Then, at the sound of a sharp “Is someone there?”, you drop the takeout box and run.

Their daughter. His wife. A version of her.

You already know that Miguel lost a family in another dimension. It was briefly mentioned when he warned you about Canon disruptions, but he refused to share the details. Is this why?

This whole time…you are a Variant of his wife?

You aren’t followed. Your coworkers cheerfully greet you, but you ignore them and return to your desk. It’s arranged the way you like it, complete with personal decorations. The drawer holds a stress ball in your favorite color, a gift from Miguel of all people.

You never did tell him that it is your go-to stress reliever. Was it the same for her?

You squeeze the ball and take deep breaths, but the action does little to calm you.

It all makes sense. Why else would Miguel take an interest in you?

Your gaze lands on your Dimensional Travel Watch before you remember that the idea is futile. Yours is only a modified version which prevents glitches but can’t be used for travel. And the Go-Home Machine would require Spider-Byte’s help.

…Why are you even wasting your time on an escape plan? How are you sure that you won’t mess up and make another mistake?

“______?” LYLA appears in front of your face. Her greeting sounds different.

He knows.

You force yourself to answer. “Y-Yes?”

“Miguel is back.” She flickers as usual, but it doesn’t change the nervous look on her face. “He wants to see you.”

꒰♡꒱

Peter B will be dead when he gets to him.

Several screens surround Miguel, each playing CCTV footage. He focuses on a live recording of you on your way to his laboratory.

At least you are complying with his orders.

The platform is fully lowered by the time you get there.

“Hey…welcome back,” you stammer. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” he replies brusquely. “Jess and Peter B spoke with me as soon as I came back. I was just confirming the status of Earth-67 when I checked the CCTVs. Care to explain?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of you. LYLA is nowhere to be seen.

Your panic is evident. Your gaze wanders, at everything but Miguel, until it stops at the dented takeout box on his desk. “Is that…is the food still warm? Or have you already eaten in Earth-67? I forgot to ask in advance.”

He glares at you. “Are you seriously worrying about my lunch right now?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say?” you shoot back. The anger in your tone is unmistakable. “‘Hey, Miguel, when was I supposed to know that we were a family in the dimension you accidentally collapsed?’ Does that sound any better?!”

“Believe me, I was going to leave you alone at first.” He grips the edge of his desk, resisting the urge to raise his voice. “But how could I do it after the way you reacted?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You could’ve easily said no! This whole time, I wondered why you were so willing to help me. I thought you were being nice, that you believed giving me a better life was worth all these risky accommodations. Was…was I wrong?”

Your voice cracks at the last part, and you hastily wipe your eyes. It’s reminiscent of your first meeting, the distressed shock which Miguel had never seen in his wife. Only that time, you had sought out his comfort.

“Tell me, was it because of her?” you whisper. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill. “Is that all you’ve ever seen in me?”

“You have the wrong idea.” Miguel approaches you, but you instinctively back away. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “If you would just listen to me—”

“How can I?!”

Your hand settles on your wrist, unconsciously fiddling with your Dimensional Travel Watch. The clasp loosens, and his reaction is immediate.

He grips your arm. “Don’t do that! You’ll get yourself—”

“Let go of me!”

You pull back, clawing at his wrist, but Miguel's grasp only tightens. His other hand taps the watch’s controls to activate the Lock feature.

“This is for your own good, ______." In the split second that he releases you, his webs shoot out and bind your limbs together.

“No!” You collapse onto the floor. The scarlet threads dig into your skin, emitting a harsh glow in the dark. “Please, just let me go!”

After everything he’s been through, he is not losing you again.

Ignoring the stab of guilt, he picks you up and salvages what is left of his composure.

“You see, this is why I didn’t tell you.” He sighs, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

You’re still shaking in his grasp, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I…I’m not—”

His kiss easily silences you. It’s far from intimate but the sensations are familiar. Warm lips. The scent of your perfume. The addictive rush of euphoria. Physical and chemical reactions which couldn’t be adequately explained in words.

And the whimper that escapes your lips when Miguel pulls back to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“We can continue this conversation when we get home.”

vi. cobweb

Your days in the Spider Society are over.

Not permanently. Miguel says that you can resume work once you’ve calmed down, but you doubt it will happen under any pretense of freedom.

Since your confrontation, you’ve been confined in his home. As it turns out, Miguel had already prepared for this—locks, alarms, hidden cameras, a comprehensive speech which only elevates your horror.

“She wouldn’t want this,” you keep insisting. You writhe against your restraints, but the webs remain taut against your skin. “How would your ______ feel if she knew?!”

“She’s not here anymore.” Miguel looks away from your face, as though the reminder physically pains him. “What matters now is that I have you. The both of us can start over.”

“How can you say that?!” At this point, you’re on the verge of hysteria. “You…you don’t actually love me. You’re only doing this because I’m the closest you have to getting her back!”

The hand on your cheek makes you flinch. The gentle caress does little to soothe you, not with the underlying threat of his claws. His eyes flash red in the dim light, brimming with—what do you call it? Grief? Desperation? Obsession?

You can’t tell, not when those sentiments are for someone else.

“You only say that because you don’t know any better,” he says softly. His lips meet yours, trapping you in a deep kiss. “Now get some rest, mi sol. It’s been a long day, and we know how you get when you’re stressed.”

My sun. What a lie. Since when have you done anything to deserve such a title?

You can’t bother to fight back. You’re too tired to think, to resist the kiss, to move an inch as Miguel undos your restraints and tucks you into bed.

Instead, you close your eyes and retreat into slumber. But even in your last seconds of consciousness, his gaze is strongly felt.

As it turns out, Miguel really did consider all possibilities. Your Dimensional Travel Watch has an exclusive Lock feature, should you ever be tempted to escape him through death. It can only be removed during your scheduled baths, with LYLA acting as your timer.

You rarely talk to her, either. She clearly feels sorry for you, but not enough to help. She monitors your daily activity, keeps you company when Miguel is away, and tries to cheer you up. She has yet to accomplish the last task.

Against your better judgment, you ask her about your Variant. She is resistant at first, knowing the negative outcome, but you are persistent. In the end, LYLA decides that it’s better to show you a few videos than for you to ask Miguel directly.

…Your Variant is perfect. Pretty. Carefree. Successful. A calming presence. You can see why Miguel would fall for her, with how she effortlessly puts a smile on his face.

Among your Variants, isn’t there one who bears a closer resemblance to her? Or were they too important to leave without disrupting the Canon? Is that why he settled for you?

“You have a better sense of style,” LYLA offhandedly mentions. “It was Miguel who said that. And do you know that he calls you one of our best workers?”

It doesn’t make you feel any better. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

As LYLA predicted, the information only makes you feel worse. You can’t stop thinking about your other self. How did she turn out like that? How did she succeed in your failures? How has Miguel perceived his moments with you, as new memories or a replica of lost time?

You don’t want to ask him. You’ve had enough disappointments for one lifetime.

Neither do you make an escape plan. On the low chance that you succeed, you don’t have anywhere to go. The Spider Society, or most of them, is loyal to Miguel. And it’s not like you’d be better off in your dimension, back to your empty home and dead-end job and daily reminders of your insignificance.

At least here, you can feel valued. Even if you owe that to someone else.

꒰♡꒱

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so.”

Miguel doesn’t look up from the screens. “Now is not the time for this.”

LYLA is anything but smug. ”Are you sure? Because you said that when I asked if you’d ever tell her the truth, and look where that went. A civil explanation might’ve been nice.”

“How is she?”

“No better than with you.”

The CCTV switches to the kitchen. By now, you've established a new routine—lie awake in bed, rearrange your room, watch TV, cook your own meals. It's repetitive but easy to follow.

He zooms in on the ingredients. “Do you see anything suspicious?”

“No potential poisons,” LYLA responds, equally focused. “Oh, is she cooking dinner again? Last night’s meal looked really good.”

“It probably helps. Gives her something to preoccupy herself with.”

In the end, you’ve chosen the docile route. You’re still tense around Miguel, but your behavior can’t even be counted as malicious compliance. You just go through your new routine, trying to create some semblance of normalcy in confinement.

Though internally speaking, he has no access to your thoughts.

“She’s quite different from his wife, isn’t she?” asks LYLA. “I like this version of ______.”

Miguel zooms in on you this time. In your current state, you’ve revealed more contrasts to his Variant’s wife. It actually doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

When did his feelings for you begin? Was it when he saved you? When he saw a spark of his beloved in you? When that spark turned out to be your own brilliance?

All he knows is that you’re the one who consumes his thoughts nowadays. Your distinct preferences, your little quirks, your quiet words, your uncertain expressions, your attitude towards him and no other Miguel.

...There must be a way to persuade you. If Miguel was able to play along with his Variant’s family, to the point that his love for them became genuine, the same can be said for you. He just needs to prove that you can and will be happy together.

The only thing missing would be Gabriella.

vii. sheet web

You’ve been promoted to Miguel’s bedmate.

His room isn’t much. It is dark, minimalist, often empty due to the nature of his work. There are zero mementos of his lost family, not even a framed photo or something of her influence.

They’re probably hidden somewhere. How considerate.

On most nights, you act oblivious to your new sleeping arrangement. You just say good night to Miguel, lie down on your side of the bed, and try to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

…That turns out to be more difficult than expected. Try as you might to feign sleep, you can’t relax in Miguel’s grasp. He holds you tightly in his sleep, your back pressed against his chest. You wonder if it is a familiar position or a means of keeping you close.

Lately, he has switched tactics. Movie nights have become a regular pastime. You’ve received permission to work from home, sans contact with the Spider Society. The two of you have even gone outside for a few dates, though his grip on your hand discourages any escape attempts. Awkwardness aside, he’s been more physically affectionate.

It’s absolutely jarring, but you’re somewhat grateful for the added comforts. If your choices are different from his wife’s, Miguel doesn’t seem to mind.

This should be fine. It’s better than when he was acting like an overprotective control freak…even if those methods had left no speculation as to who the intended receiver was. With this approach, you can never be sure if Miguel sees you or his wife in front of him.

You try not to dwell on it more than you already have. You’re still here. Your living conditions have marginally improved. Miguel doesn’t expect you to be more like her.

You just need to keep it together, like you always have.

That is what you keep telling yourself, up until the night Miguel asks for your thoughts on starting a family.

“No. Please, stop!”

Red. In the dark, all you can see is red.

The lurid color wraps around you, binding your wrists to the headboard. The webs are taut, no-frills, effective in their sole purpose of keeping you trapped.

No, what’s worse is Miguel. His gaze is trained on you, scarlet orbs alight with crazed desire and your own terrified reflection.

“Stop struggling,” he sighs as he pins you down. Blood decorates his bare arms, from where your scratches failed to stop him. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

You continue, anyway, only to scream as he leans down and sinks his fangs into your neck. It hurts, the flesh burns, everything feels heavy—

You can’t move.

It doesn’t take long for the venom to kick in. The numbness spreads throughout your body, leaving you dizzy and helpless. Your limbs won’t cooperate at all.

Yet despite the paralysis, the pain stays with you. It’s the only sensation you can feel—the sharp ache in your neck, the chafing around your wrists, the sting from where Miguel accidentally scratched your thigh while tearing off your clothes.

“Mi sol, you are still tense,” he mutters. His lips remain on your neck, administering light kisses to the fresh wound. A clawed hand presses down on the bed, puncturing the fabric, to support his weight. “You need to calm down.”

You can only bite your lip as he moves on to your chest, tainting the skin with love bites. His other hand retracts its claws and strokes your stomach, tracing—are those patterns supposed to be her stretch marks?

Of course he memorized them. She must be on his mind right now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but the ministrations continue. His thumb strokes your hip, eliciting a stifled moan, and the self-inflicted darkness gives way to the sight of Miguel’s irritated expression.

“You’re not listening to me, ______.” His eyes flash, daring you to try again. The sight of his exposed fangs, speckled with your own blood, triggers another wave of dread.

Should you even be surprised that he knows your sensitive spots? He already made it clear that any form of escape is in vain.

It's pure torture. It would be easier if Miguel would just have his way with you, use your body to his heart’s content, leave you to your thoughts. But no, he is taking his time and making sure that you physically enjoy this. Ensuring that you will be ready for what comes next.

“S-Stop.” Your lips are still numb, but you manage to form words. “I said…I don’t want this! I’m not ready!”

“Shh.” He silences you with another kiss, his palm pressing down on your stomach. “You’re only saying this because it’s our first time. You have to trust me.”

It’s hard to believe him when you know that his composure is slipping. What is he trying to hide? His ragged breaths? The hardness pressed against your inner thigh? The urgency with which he lifts your legs up onto his shoulders?

“You’ll understand once our child is here,” he says. He breaks off the kiss, his voice hushed to a reverent whisper. “We will be so happy, happier than you can ever imagine.”

“You’re lying…I can’t—!”

You can’t stand to look at him. His gaze is so cruel, clouded with love, adoration, hope. Skies, he looks so hopeful. You don’t want to wait for the day he looks at you differently.

Was this how he looked at her? How did she return his gaze? It must’ve been passionate. It must’ve been romantic. It must’ve been so promising.

“I can’t give you Gabriella!”

The world stops as soon as those words leave your mouth.

“...What did you just say?” Miguel stares at you, eyes wide.

Of all Variants, why did it have to be you?

That is when you burst into tears.

How humiliating. It’s hard to breathe, it must be an ugly sight, and you can’t do anything to cover your face. But it’s enough to make Miguel stop and listen to you.

“I can’t give you Gabriella,” you repeat in choked sobs. “It requires an exact time, specific cells and DNA. And even if we succeed, I can’t raise her into the child you knew. I...I can’t restore your family. I can’t be her.”

In the end, you will only disappoint him.

“______…” He raises his hand to wipe your tears, but you interrupt him with a glare.

“Honestly, why did it have to be me?!” you shout. “Why couldn’t you have found a better duplicate of your wife? This wouldn’t be happening if you’d chosen the right ______!”

He doesn't respond.

For a few seconds, all you can hear is your own pitiful weeping. You vaguely register the feeling of your legs hitting the mattress, of the absence of Miguel’s touch, but you keep your eyes closed. It’s easier that way.

Suddenly, there is the sound of threads snapping. Then the sensation of strong hands coming under your back, lifting you upwards, pulling you into an embrace.

Your eyes fly open. “What—”

“Ya, calladita.”

Miguel…is he hugging you? He holds you tightly, repeating the words in a hushed tone. The message is followed by a string of curses which, judging by the way he turns away from you, must be solely directed at himself.

Paralyzed, you can only stare down at your lap. At his webs, still wrapped around your wrists but no longer connected to the bed. “What are you—”

“Could you let me talk for a second?" he snaps. He tilts your face upwards, allowing you to take in his glare. “You are my first choice. Not the version of you from Earth-94, Earth-835, or any other dimension in the multiverse. It doesn’t matter that you are different from her.”

This can’t be true. “Still, I—”

“As for Gabriella, you’re right." There is a flash of resignation in his gaze, so sorrowful that it clashes with his words. “I knew that from the start.”

“...Then why?”

Your head spins. His hands are still on you, caressing your cheek and keeping you in his grasp. The numbness gives way to warmth.

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that any child from you will be ours,” he answers. His voice softens, as does his gaze. “Just as you are mine and I am yours.”

The words get stuck in your throat. “Are…are you sure?”

How can he say such a thing? Your sense of hearing must be damaged. It is the only logical explanation as to why—

The look in his eyes leaves no room for doubt. “I promise.”

...What else can you possibly say?

Your vision blurs. Miguel is still speaking, another quiet reassurance from the sound of it, but it’s all static in your head.

What the hell are you supposed to do with this information? It’s beyond your comprehension, too subjective and unproven for the likes of you. And yet you feel…good. Happy. So, so happy despite everything you have been through.

Skies, you are truly pathetic.

No, what’s more pathetic is the way you cry harder and melt into Miguel’s embrace. It’s the way you listen to his remaining praises and beg him to keep talking. To list everything about you that is good and faultless and desirable to him, everything he thought was worth noticing.

And when he kisses you, you willingly reciprocate.

The darkness is soothing.

The dim lights cast the bedroom in shadows. It’s a blessing to your dizziness, your eyes tired from crying. With this obstacle to your vision, you can pretend that the previous hours never happened.

Almost. The soreness, the deft hands tending to your injuries, and the immense euphoria are impossible to ignore.

It’s also painful, unbearably painful now that the venom’s effect has fully worn off. You can only sit up and wince as Miguel disinfects another wound.

He looks up in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” You give him a weak smile as he bandages your thigh and mumbles a second apology. “I feel better already.”

His own injuries are equally evident, from your hesitant love bites to the scratch marks on his back. As guilty as you felt, you could only say so much before Miguel silenced you with a withering look.

…You will make it up to him tomorrow. If you are still capable of walking.

The thought leads you to cry into the pillow, muffling your curses. If Miguel can understand you, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he closes the first aid kit and holds your hand.

“I’ll draw a bath,” he tells you. “Can you wait for a few minutes?”

Your thumb brushes against his pulse point. His heart rate is frustratingly calm, perhaps slightly above average if you are to flatter yourself. Maybe you can count the number of beats and ask LYLA tomorrow. She will be happy to confirm it.

You meet his gaze, intertwining your fingers with his. “Sure.”

You’d like to think that his last kiss is another promise.

With that, Miguel stands up and leaves the room. As for you, you lie down and go back to screaming into the pillow. Tired as you feel, you haven’t felt this thrilled in years.

Then the spiderwebs catch your attention. They’re still stuck to your wrists, albeit frayed. There are loose threads from where Miguel broke them.

Red. Illuminating the dark, holding you close, keeping you safe.

Carefully, you pick apart the threads and twist them around your hand.

No string figures this time. Your technique is clumsy, irregular, lacking beauty and order. Nonetheless, you continue until your left hand is covered in a glovelike pattern.

The final knot is above your ring finger. It’s a perfect fit.

It is the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

♡

Author's Note ๑ Side Story 1 ๑ Prologue ๑ Epilogue ๑ Side Story 2

“I’m just going to write a short post to purge my brainrot,” I say, shortly before Miguel O’Hara unlocks a core memory of me reading The Spider and the Fly and inspires me to write 7.6k words with literary references.

Thank you so much to @diodellet for beta-reading this and @yanmaresu for helping me with the Spanish phrases!! As for my readers, I hope you enjoyed my take on Yandere! Miguel and his darling. Do entertain me with your comments and brainrot ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @kocherry @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @h2o2-and-baking-soda @ansy-tea @yandere-wishes @weebsinstash @curesi @robindere @crystalcrynight @mrlidocaine @handsomeunderwear-art @blughxreader @chiikasevennn @fortheloveofleon

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antimony-medusa · 3 days

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How To Set Up An Ao3 Exchange

One of the first things I say whenever anyone asks me about running exchanges is that if you have more than about 30 people in the exchange, do NOT try to match it by hand. That is so much work and takes so much time. Use Ao3's matching algorithm. And people say sure, and then they look at how Ao3 works and they go uhhhhhhhhhh I think we can make a google form work. Because google forms are reasonably intuitive to make work, and Ao3 exchanges are— not.

But the thing is, once you understand the underlying logic for Ao3 collections, they are not that bad, and seriously I can't overstate the benefit of having Ao3 do the matching for you. That's like the difference between 80 hours of curating data as it comes in and then matching it (what happened with hand-matching 325 people for holiday exchange), or 2 hours of double-checking the matching (what happened with matching 125 people for 48 hour exchange). You have to put in extra work to get an Ao3 exchange set up, but it super pays off in the end. So! Here is an intro to how Ao3 exchanges work on the back end. This explanation assumes you know how to sign up for an exchange because I've posted ones like that before, for example, here.

Let's get into it.

THE COLLECTION

The first thing you want to do is set up your exchange collection. If you go to your right-hand drop-down menu, you click on My Collections.

That brings you to every collection you have ever made, and you go to to the right and click "New collection".

That brings you into the back end of the collection. You want to go down and put in a name for the collection that will be the url (so no spaces), a display name, an email for the collection to email when something happens to the collection (this will be public, so use a fandom email), and a basic description.

There's places there to do custom icons and headers, but those are optional, but you can go in and make your exchange pretty later if you want!

We are still in the "setting up" stage of the exchange, so once we go to preferences, you want to select all the tick boxes and make it look like this.

Moderated means that you'll have to manually approve things to be added to the collection (not absolutely necessary but can keep out trolls, and it also means that you can manually check that gifts meet minimums before you let them in to the exchange), Closed means that no one can submit things to the collection yet (once you open your exchange you de-select this), Unrevealed means that any works in the collection will show up as "mystery works" and not be readable (so you keep it unrevealed until the posting date, so people can post early but not spoil the surprise), anonymous means that all authors will be anonymous (this depends on if you have an anonymous portion of your exchange, so it's optional), "show random works" just means that you get a selection of different works when people visit the collection at different times, "send a message to the collection email" is optional but is useful for moderation (like if you're checking people off a list when their gifts get delivered), and "type of challenge" you want to be sent to "gift exchange".

and then on this page the only other things of concern are places where you can put in an FAQ, a description and some instructions, but those are all optional! I normally host the FAQ on tumblr, so I just say "go check the tumblr at [link]".

And then you hit the submit button.

Now we get into the nitty-gritty.

First up is some optional stuff— you can add in the times that you're going to do things! This is useful for communication, but not necessary. We're still setting everything up, so you do not want Sign-Ups to be open, that is only selected once you have everything ready to go.

Then scrolling down, you get to Requests and Offers.

This is where you specify the absolute minimum ships or characters that you want people to give you to sign up. 10 is the maximum Ao3 allows, so I always set it to 10 for both "allowed", which is the maximum the site will allow. And required is the low number. I usually set it to a minimum of three, to make sure someone doesn't sign up with "i will only write one ship" or something. This way, people will have to do a minimum of three separate requests and offers.

The "requests visible" is part of the back end thing, and it's up to you if you want to select it or not. If you keep it unselected, the only person who will be able to see requests is the mods, and eventually each person will see their assignment. If you select it, people will be able to browse everyone's requests and both maybe target offers so they can write for a specific person, and be able to find treats (extra bonus gifts) to write for people whose requests they like. Each side has its own benefits or negatives, it's up to you which ones you want to go with!

And here we get into more of the matching info! Let's look at Request Settings.

Now this is what the settings would look like for a multi-fandom exchange. The "details/description" box you want to make mandatory because that is where people will put their DNW and their prompts (and you absolutely want to make sure everyone has a DNW), and the url is an optional one which lets people link an off-site letter on google docs or dreamwidth.

Fandom allowing up to three fandoms means that people can do crossovers if they want (or tag a request something like 3rd life/hermitcraft), and if I wanted to say that people had to request 3 separate servers I would say "must be unique" but I'm okay if people sign up with three Dream SMP relationships in this idea hypothetical exchange, so I'm not selecting the unique button.

I'm ignoring the characters button cause that's extra complication, the only other thing I want to look at is the relationship button. A minimum of 1 ship per request (and there's a minimum of three requests), and let's say you can go up to 20, so people can request LOTS of different ships. I did select "must be unique" so someone can't sign up with the same ship three times. The "allow any" button is off, which means that I will have to select relationships that fit under the fandom that I selected one up, I can't request Shubble/Niki Nihachu (Origins), and put it with a fandom request for Hermitcraft. This has set it so that the absolutely minimum someone can sign up with is 3 relationships (3 requests * 1 relationship each), and the absolute maximum is 200 relationships (10 requests * 20 relationships each).

Requests will look much the same, except I am not putting down details/description or a URL, because I'm not letting people submit requests about what ship they "really" want to match on, they are going to be equally matchable to everyone they offered. Some exchanges will let you submit a requests DNW, but honestly that is so much extra work for the mods, I would not recommend it unless you think it's necessary to stop people from dropping their gifts later.

Okay, so now we take a brief digression into a tag set.

THE TAG SET

Okay so basically a tag set is an extra set of sliders that lets you fine-tune your exchange. If you do not use a tag set, when people sign up they will be able to use every canon tag on the archive, and only canon tags. Which is a LOT of tags, but when I ran an exchange without a tag set there were multiple times of hitting non-canon relationships or tags. But it's also a definite extra complication, tag sets are extra fiddly work and they are even less intituive. If you just want to go without a tag set, skip down to the matching segment. If you do want to avoid hitting people signing up with non-canon tags, keep reading.

I'm gonna say right off the bat that tag sets are the single most like "oh I am getting into the GUTS of the machine" part of running Ao3 exchanges, but if you can make them work they can super streamline both the sign-up (for your participants ) and the matching process (for you).

Oh boy, tag sets. Here we start getting into how exchanges start squeezing the interface to make it do what we want it to. I'm using a tag set, so first I clicked on the "tag set" url there and I made my tag set, and then I came back and selected its name from the drop-down menu on the collection. I leave all the tick boxes open, because selecting them will again restrict you to canon tags, and we specifically want to be open to noncanon tags both because of issues like "ijevin & tiny tim" not being a canon tag, and because the way MCYT tags are wrangled and made canon does not work for how the exchange machine reads information. We specifically want a collection of non-canon tags tuned for our needs. More on that later.

So, I started a new tag set, and I'm over there on that screen, looking at it. What does that screen look like?

Okay so, part of the appeal of a tag set is that your participants are able to specify the difference between "Rendog & InTheLittleWood" and "Rendog/InTheLittleWood". You don't have to worry about people getting undesired shipping, because people were specifying if they wanted shipping when they signed up. You can reduce a great deal of people getting matched badly by using relationship matching, because most of the time even if people want a Tommy-centric fic, there's a pretty big difference between people who want "Tommy & Technoblade" and "Tommy & Dream". By specifying who you want the gift to be about, you remove a big hurdle of matching right away. That's why most exchanges run on relationship matching.

However, if there are 37 people on a given server, that's something like 2,600 possible combinations of people if you include both romantic and platonic, and that's before you start getting into trios, and that's just way too many tags for the mods to enter manually. So what you do is run a nomination period, and for a week or two weeks you go to all your participants and you go "do you want to sign up for this exchange? Nominate the tags you want to use now! If it doesn't get nominated, it can't be used!" And then people head to the tag set to nominate.

So, on this page, you want "visible tag list" to be selected, because you want people to see what's already been nominated so they don't duplicate, and you want "currently taking nominations" to be selected because you will be taking those nominations instead of doing them all yourself.

So you have to set up limits on those nominations.

The point of taking nominations is to make matching easier, so people normally use the same fandom and relationship limits as they are going to use on the sign-up, to make sure there aren't dozens of tags in the tag set that nobody's using, just cluttering up the space. It also helps stop the issue where someone sees a tag in the tag set, goes "oh man I love that ship" and signs up, but its an extra tag that no one intended to offer, so they don't match to anyone. That's why sometimes people keep the amount of tags that can be nominated low, I've seen people limit this to 10 tags, or even 7, so that's up to you.

And you save, and now when you link your participants the tag set, they will have a "nominate" button.

They will hurry over to press that button, and then they will see a page that looks like this.

This is a thing where you absolutely want to give your participants detailed instructions, because what Ao3 will try to do is auto-fill people's nominations with canonical tags. WE DO NOT WANT CANONICAL TAGS. CANONICAL TAGS ARE THE ENEMY OF EXCHANGES. CANONICAL TAGS ARE THE ENEMY OF MCYT EXCHANGES IN PARTICULAR.

Remember back when we clicked the button that says tags have to be unique? The canonical tag for Philza & Technoblade doesn't have a server on it, and people might want to be requesting that relationship for SMPEarth, Dream SMP, Origins SMP, or arguably even QSMP. If you only have the canonical tag, people can only request a specific dynamic once, for one server. And that is a problem for every situation where people interacted on multiple servers, and with the network of overlaps that is Empires/SOS/3rd Life/Hermitcraft and DSMP/Origins/SMPEarth/QSMP, that's going to lead to unhappy participants. So you tell people to nominate the ship and also "disambiguate" it, and add the server in parentheses. And then all your participants will hit the button to submit, and you will go into the "review nominations" button, and you will let those tags into the tag set.

Now I just distributed the tag set to a couple friends, so let's look at what this looks like behind the scenes.

Brace yourself, it's gonna be wild, but I believe we can get through it.

Now here is a perfectly standard look at tag set nominations after a few people have gotten into the tag set. This is why they pay tag mods the big bucks.

As you can see, there are a few things to be gathered. The first things is a bunch of people used the canon tags (because that's what Ao3 tries to get them to do), someone else nominated an x-reader ship, we have one tag there twice (spelled differently), and the tags are Piped (they have both the person's tax name and the username). (You can let tags in that are Piped, but I find that it makes the tag set harder to read, and usually exchanges are character-focused unless you're writing video blogging rpf anyways, so I ask people to submit tags unpiped, using usernames.) And for the tags that were nominated in a way that I want (unpiped, and disambiguated so they're unique), Ao3 is trying to get me to use the canon tag. But I don't want the canon tag, I want a unique tag, with the server on it, with no pipes. So.

So were I moderating the tag set, after a few minutes it would look like this.

That's going through and disambiguating the tags (adding the server, which I could tell because of the fandom it was nominated under), removing the piping and using the usernames instead of tax names, and then re-ordering the names so they're alphabetical so people can find them on the list later, rejecting the x-reader tag, rejecting the duplicate and allowing the one that's spelled correctly through. Amazing. I have tags that I want to use (I did some other tags that were ready to go in other fandoms as well). I hit submit. Am I ready to go?

No, because tag sets are the most complicated part of exchanges.

I open up my tag set, and if I scroll down to "Unassociated characters and relationships" there are a bunch of tags that are are lost, Ao3 doesn't know where to put them. This is because we very carefully made unique tags that have not been wrangled anywhere, and Ao3 said "i don't know where these go" and shoved them all together in a garbage bin at the bottom of the page. So we have to manually go in to associate them to the right fandoms.

You hit the Edit button on the tag set, and scroll down to the bottom, to "tag associations", and start selecting where tags go.

Honestly this is a great time to be listening to a stream or a podcast or something, and then you have the tag set open in another tab so you know what all the unassociated tags are, and you just go down the list like a databasing machine. It is not hard, cause you disambiguated each tag with its own server, it's just time consuming. Note. This is why people go in and accept tags regularly during the nomination period, because if you do this all at the end you've got a BIG job ahead of you.

So, you turned on your VOD playlist and you associated all your tags, and all the tags are where they are supposed to go. You have a beautiful tag set.

But wait, you say, looking at this beautiful tag set. Some of those tags look at little different. What is the "Dream smp and only dream smp" that a couple of them have?

Well.

You see.

Ao3 designed tag sets to work a certain way, and nobody uses them that way. It turns out that "Quackity/Wilbur Soot (Dream SMP)" is a wrangled canon tag, and the system goes "ah, I know where this goes, this is a sub-tag of the major tag, and the top-level tag is Video Blogging RPF, so it goes under Video Blogging RPF, as all MCYT tags do. I am very smart. I have stuck this Dream SMP tag under Video Blogging RPF. I am a good machine". And then you go AUUUUUUUUGH, and then you turn up the podcast a little louder, and then you sit down and you delete the old tag and you write out a new tag that the system doesn't know what to do with, and it goes uhhhhhhh and sticks it in "unassociated tags" and then you go in again and you manually associate it into the right server.

It's not hard, it's just time consuming. Shouting at the tag set like STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO as it helpfully tries to stick dsmp tags in SMPearth and you wrestle it out of SMPEarth and into the right fandom bucket.

Deep breath moment. Honestly that's the most fiddly part of a fiddly process, so if you can get through this you're absolutely golden.

Anyways. You got clean disambiguated unique tags, and then you associated them in the right spot, and then you found the ones that got sorted to the wrong spot and you associated them yourself, and now you have a beautiful tag set ready to go. It's a thing of beauty. Shed a tear. Your participants can select from anything in this tag set, and you know they want to use these specific relationships, because they submitted them to you. What next?

THE MATCHING

Okay. You have your tag set set up and it's accepting nominations. Your participants are filling it out right now. You go back to your collection. it's time to tell it how to match.

This is the "minimum number to match" pane, and this is the minimum numbers to make a successful match. You want 1 for Fandom, and 1 for Relationship, and that's it. People will show up to the machine as a viable match as long as they have submitted a fandom and relationship that matches someone else's offered fandom and relationship.

This is a minimum viable exchange. You're ready to go. As soon as your tag set is done (or immediately if you're not using a tag set), you're ready to go back and open your exchange to sign-ups.

Congratulations!

FURTHER TWEAKING

HOWEVER. There is more that you can do. For example, do you want to allow people to request or opt into NSFW? There's an easy way to do that! First thing is you go back to your tag set, and you scroll down to the "ratings" section that you've been ignoring.

You select G and E, and that way, if people are opting into explicit that means they're okay with NSFW, and if they only select G, that means they only want a non-explicit piece.

Then on the collection you switch the requests and offers sections to include a place to specify a rating.

You want them to definitely specify at least one, and if you maximum allowed is 2, people can opt into both and say "i'm good with whatever"!

Then you scroll down to the matching section, and you tweak that to make sure that people will match on Fandom, Relationship, and at least one Rating.

Bingo. You now have a toggle to turn NSFW on and off.

But a lot of people like to match by TYPE of gift too, specifying if they want art or fic or playlist or web weave etc. How do you do that? Ah, at this point you are master of all you survey, and you can make tag sets do absolutely anything you want. You go back to the tag set and you scroll down to "characters".

Now we were matching on relationships, so the character box is unused. And it lets you put in your own tags. So what you do is you start to add in custom tags.

And then you go back to the Collection settings, and on the requests and the offers you go in to the "characters" section and you say "must select at least one, can select up to six".

And then, you guessed it— you go back to "minimum number to match" and you set that "characters" tab to 1 minimum, 6 maximum. Now people who specified that they wanted Art can be matchable to artists who Offered Art. You have unlimited power, the world is at your fingertips.

There's even more customization that you can do, too! There's "additional tags", which is entirely custom tags you add yourself, that can be anything from specifying if people want fluff or horror or hurt/comfort etc— with the recursive exchange we used it to specify the works people were recursing— I'm considering using it for holidays with the holiday exchange. You can let people opt in or out of major archive warnings by selecting "archive warnings" as a thing that's in the tag set and that you're matching for. Once you understand how the underpinnings of how the machine works, you can wrestle it into almost any shape you want.

So. Whew. That's how exchanges work, under the hood. When I say that this is significantly easier than hand matching the holiday exchange, I ask you to picture just how complicated hand matching gets. Go forth! Thrive! Set up exchanges if you want! The world is your oyster!

Feel free to message me if you have further questions.

#mcyt on Ao3 #fandom exchanges #ao3

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stylespresleyhearted · 1 month

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CCG - LUCI’S 3RD BIRTHDAY

In honor of the great @blainesebastian ‘s birthday here’s a little instagram compilation I’ve conjured up for our adored CCG nation <3 Austin, CCG, and Luci we miss and love ya’ll forever and Mccall you are a brilliant mind whom I will adore until the end of time! Have the bestest birthday ever, you deserve nothing less!

—————-

liked by coffee.girl, salmahayek, and 20,342 others

enews And the Best Dad Award goes to ….! In honor Austin Butler and Y/N’s little girl turning three today let’s take a look back at our favorite moments of Austin Butler being the best dad ❤️ link in bio for full video of second slide.

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austinfan18 video of luci running into austin’s arm after two weeks apart you will always be famous!

butlerishh him throwing her in the air LMAO LUCI WAS NOT HAVING FUN

ccgfan HA fr luci was looking at her mom to save her

iloveaustin Can we talk about how proud his mom would be about what a great parent he is?

sharonbleu Austin even has Salma Hayek up in the likes 😉

liked by austinbutler, priscillapresley, and 872, 196 others

coffee.girl Celebrating Luci day should be every day tbh. 🦖💕👁️🐠🪷🌸☃️🥞 @austinbutler and I can’t believe we created this wonderful being, she had to have come from a lab of perfection.

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ashleytisdale Luci told me she’s from Pluto and I believe her. It’s the only logical explanation.

austinbutler Nice use of all of Luci’s favorite emoji’s, she’s going to be so proud. ❤️

jillian.mua The best thing you and Austin ever did and will ever do is have sex three years ago to give the world the best human to walk the Earth

coffee.girl JILLIAN!

ashleybee I’m disgusted but I get what she means

austinbutler Babe close your comment section please

chrisevans Happy bday to the one who is gonna prove aliens exist!

liked by austinbutler, bazluhrmann, and 20,807 others

people Luci Butler turns three today so we must not forget to credit her mother (and best friend) in a world where it seems moms get no recognition for being superhuman.

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user12 imagine using a 3 year olds bday to make some political womens movement statement. mom’s get plenty of recognition.

butlerfamupdates I actually applaud People Magazine for this. All day magazine’s have posted Austin’s cutest moments with Luci and talked about what a wonderful Dad he is - which no one would ever doubt to think he is - but Luci’s mom is very much present as well and deserves love too. Luci loves both her parents. It’s normal for a kid to have favorites, it doesn’t make the other parent ‘bad.’

ccgfan Y/N and Luci sharing their love for open water together and creating sea shell necklaces i cry

ccgfan1 You just know she’s the most supportive and loving mother! Austin and Luci are so lucky to have her!

liked by coffee.girl, austinbutler, and 341, 289 others

ashleytisdale happy birthday to Jupiter’s bestest friend in the whole wide world! We are so lucky to have you in our life Luci ❤️🦖✨

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coffee.girl the cutest besties 👯 🤣

fan23 ashley and aus are bffs now their daughters are too 😭

austinluv STOP my heart can’t take it

liked by ashleybee, ccgfan, and 34, 567 others

butlerfamupdates a cute little insight into Luci’s “THREE-REX” bday party! Posts and reposts from @austinbutler and @coffee.girl IG stories

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sugartreats Thank you for choosing us for her cakes and treats! The sweetest, most beautiful family 🙌🏼 #happybirthdayluci

fan34 so luc is like obsessed w dinos huh 🤔

fan33 austin literally calls her lil dino

fan45 u just know it was luci’s idea to put a tutu on the scary t rex LMAO

sugarcakes Oh it was! Her parents brought her in and Miss Luci was very specific with what she wanted haha

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jillian.mua Happy birthday cool girl 🥳 I love you

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austinbutler vibin’

ashleybee oh gosh i wanna kiss those cheeks

oliviadejonge i wanna be her when i grow up ✨🥳

coffee.girl @austinbutler trendsetter 😂❤️

liked by austin12 and others

austinbnews via Austin’s IG story for Luci’s birthday! Happy birthday sweet Luci 🎂 ♥️

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austinfan23 she’s taking after her parents with her love of books 🥹

ccgfan yes Y/N and Austin built Luci her personal little library 😭

butlerupdates Austin taking a picture of Luci taking a picture of Y/N — ICONIC

liked by ashleebee, coffee.girl, and 1,235,096 others

austinbutler happy birthday lil dino ♥️

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coffee.girl … and she’s out for the count

jillian.mua @coffee.girl she had a busy day bossing everyone around

ashleytisdale @austinbutler please tell me you at least wiped the cake frosting off her face

austinbutler @ashleytisdale I’m not dealing with that tantrum when she wakes up

coffee.girl @austinbutler neither am I smart move

ashleybee I LOVE HERRRR

LMAOOOO MCCALL WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I TOLD YOU I WAS ALREADY WORKING ON THIS BEFORE YOU TEXTED ME TODAY ASKING ABOUT LUCI ?!???? OUR BRAINSSS INTERCONNECTED 🙌🏼❤️❤️❤️❤️ happy birthday mccall love you and your little universe and luci and ccg so much you’re awesome

#a gift for mccall #made by moi #austin butler x reader #dad! austin #ccg series #austin butler instagram au #austin butler instagram edit #we love you mccall!!!

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luvxoxo · 9 months

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Q. what is love? what does love mean to you?

synopsis: asking jjk men personal questions that they have to answer honestly

part 1 of my : jujutsu kaisen interview series

includes : Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Megumi, Yuji

Gojo: he makes himself comfortable on the chair behind him, humming as he feels the softness of the seat. he inhales deeply before answering, "love is.. it is a feeling unlike any other. It is an overwhelming desire for the individual you hold close to you. It is a need that you feel to be with someone, to make them realize how precious they are, even if the world fails to see them" he pauses for a second to collect his thoughts "love is the feeling that drives us to our very core, and it cannot be denied. It’s a feeling that words can’t quite convey. There’s a lot to love, it’s hard to put into words. Love is…it is necessary to me"

you smile, hearing such an honest answer. "that was marvellous" you cannot help but let the compliment escape. Gojo grins and shrugs his shoulders "i try my best"

"Then allow me to ask you the following question, what does love mean to you?”

he hums, thinking of an honest answer "hmm if i had to put it briefly, it would be this: love is like a flame burning deep within my heart. It’s something that will never extinguish, and will always be present, no matter what happens. It will never burn out, you know? Love is like my very soul. It is me and i am it. If i lose it, then i have nothing left. I could not go on, if i were to lose that flame of mine"

Geto: he takes the time to swiftly wrap his luscious hair in a bun. "i have mixed thoughts and feelings about this question, is that alright?”

You nod smiling, encouraging him to answer

he grins, there’s a hint of sadness to it "love is strange and mysterious. It is not easy to define, and everyone can have different definitions of love. For some, love is a feeling of deep affection. For others, it can be a feeling of great joy and happiness. But love can also be quite painful. It can cause one to feel hurt. Sometimes it can cause one to feel lonely, and incomplete"

"seems as if, your answers are quite logical suguru" you say, observing him

Geto hums and nods his head, agreeing with you "that’s my view on it at least"

"well then allow me to ask you the next question, what does love mean to you personally?”

Geto leans back crossing his arms, thinking. "Love? You know that’s a complex question. Love to me is a bond. It is loyalty and admiration tied into a neat little bow. It’s much more than something like "attraction" or "lust"

he lets out a little laugh, looking away "but ultimately, love, in one word: loyalty"

Nanami: he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and leans back on the sofa comfortably, deep in thought. "the emotion of love is intricate and difficult to capture in simple language. Love has many different categories. Love can be romantic, familial, platonic, or even a love of something, like a hobby, sport, or a profession. Love is often seen as a positive motivating force and is a common theme in literature and art. This is only my humble understanding of the concept of love, though"

"that’s an interesting explanation actually. Perhaps the next question will allow you to answer more freely" nanami nods his head "What does love mean to you Nanami?”

Nanami's tone becomes quite serious and sincere. "Love is something I've always felt, but for the longest time it was something I could not truly understand. I love my friends, family, and the things and activities I enjoy the most, but there's a part of me that feels I'm missing something. I haven’t felt romantic love yet, and while it hasn't discouraged me, it has always made me wonder about the true meaning of love. It is something I hold close to my heart, and it is something I wish to find someday"

he pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words "There's a lot I could say about love. I don't think I've ever experienced it on a deep and personal level, only loving people from afar. I've tried to understand the concept of love, but I feel as though I will never truly comprehend it, even if I felt strong romantic feelings for someone. I just know it’s something that I'm striving for, something that I'm constantly working towards. It's not easy, but it is something I deeply want"

Toji: he gently grazes his fingers on his scar and then, he smirks. in a cocky manner, he manspreads on the sofa. "I don’t do feelings. Love is a weakness people like you shouldn’t indulge in when there’s a whole world out there that requires your attention. Love is dangerous, kid. It can bring you to your knees"

you feel annoyance creeping up at him calling you a kid. you force a smile on your face. he grins, seeming to notice your change in attitude.

"Would you mind elaborating a bit on that answer Mr Fushiguro?”

"Well, it’s like a drug really. It affects everyone differently. For some, love makes them weak and unable to act. Others become filled with a strong hatred towards the person they love. Some even fall ill and die from loving too much. Love is a fickle thing… a dangerous thing, and it ain’t for me. I guess you could call love my number 1 enemy. It’s a weakness that clouds a person’s judgement"

you nod your head, understanding his different point of view.

"I see. I’d still like to know though, what does love mean to you then? Is your answer still the same?”

his eyes avert to the ground, seemingly lost in thought till he speaks up again "Well if I were to describe it" he pauses before responding "I don’t know. But when I see other people who love each other, I feel I have understood what that feeling is. Maybe love isn’t just being obsessed with someone or wanting to be with them. It’s a lot of feelings put together. It’s a feeling you can’t describe. But sometimes you have to use your head and do the logical thing, not chase love or any of that nonsense. Sometimes the heart wants what it wants"

Megumi: he is instantly surprised by the question. It’s clear he was expecting everything except for this. "Oh well," he thinks for a moment "For me, love is the feeling of affection for someone or something you care about. In my opinion, love is when you want to be with someone and have their backs, no matter what or despite everything. You're also willing to do anything for the person you love. It doesn't mean, however, that you're gonna be possessive and obsessive. Love is more than just simple feelings. It's a connection, a commitment between two people." he says with a small smile on his face. it’s unusual for him to soften up like this.

you stare at him, astonished as to how he explained the concept of love in such a simle way "wonderfully said. then Megumi, what does love mean to you?”

he looks down at his hands, trying to gather his thoughts "I think my definition might be a little bit different from the one I already gave you. I think I'd define love as ‘a preciousness’. A preciousness that you want to treasure and protect. Something that you don't want to let go and will do anything to keep"

Yuji: he is perhaps, the most energetic out of the rest. he seems ready and eager to answer your questions. “love is something I still don’t quite understand yet. I guess to me, love is something that goes both ways. Both giving and receiving. I’ve learned that’s important. So, to love someone is to care about them, and to want to see them happy the way they want to see you happy.” he finishes with a bright smile

your heart warms at how pure his words feel. you cant help but smile along with him "im curious for your next answer. What does love mean to you Yuji?”

Yuji takes a deep breath. He looks up at you nervously "my answer is going to be really short, is that okay?" you smile and nod, signalling that that’s more than okay

"love, to me, is something more than a feeling. It’s an action. You can’t just say that you love someone. you have to show it with your actions as well. if someone loves someone, but they don’t do anything to show it, the other person won’t know. They won’t know how much you love and care for them.”

Reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏽

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rainbow-starlight · 4 months

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Why is Help Wanted 2 Sun… Like That?

Okay, I’ve been putting off making this post until I felt like I had a better idea of what was going on, and now that I’ve watched at least part of a play-through and gone over the lines a whole bunch, I think I’m ready.

I’m gonna talk about my thoughts on Sun as a character as well as HW2 as a whole here, so it’ll be a bit long. Pop some popcorn or something.

Please keep in mind that this is all my personal opinion and you’re free to disagree with it! In fact, if you think I’m totally wrong, please tell me why. I love new perspectives!

SO! Let’s get right into it, shall we?

First things first: Help Wanted 2 Sun is not the same guy as Security Breach/Ruin Sun. If his personality difference was significant enough to surprise you, that’s because he’s a different person.

I’m not entirely sure how much of Help Wanted 2 is meant to be actually happening, but I think that at least the mini games are training simulations.

However, it’s important to note that a lot of the stuff happening in the mini games is just… nonsense. How did Freddy get frozen like that? What’s with those regular batteries in his arms? Why are half the supplies in first aid explicitly for robots and not humans? Why is there a shredder table in the daycare for kids to stick fingers into?

Some of this can be shrugged off with the usual “FazCo is meant to be comedically shitty and the tech often doesn’t make sense anyway,” but the first aid simulation is what really stood out to me. Even with the previous explanations, that doesn’t explain the calming gas mask that could only ever fit Helpy or the steel wool scrubber or the tank cleaner spray bottle among the medical supplies. If the goal is to train new first aid staff to avoid lawsuits, it’s doing a pretty poor job of it. So… what is it for?

I touched on this idea previously with my post about Sun’s AI being trained on kids’ artwork. The idea of FazCo making a silly new employee training game as a means of harvesting behavioral data to train their AIs seems very within their realm of scummy.

This is why the Arts & Crafts mini game exists. It’s literally a task that requires exact copying. Maybe it’s essentially like teaching an AI to solve captchas by feeding it a bunch of data on how humans solve them correctly and incorrectly.

Maybe its presence is explained to employees as fun practice with the VR system or a break activity during training or something.

This would explain several things about the game.

The existence of the shredder table and Sun shredding literally ALL of your artwork: It being a funny way to despawn the stuff you make is a lot more reasonable when that’s exactly what it’s for in-universe, too. The generators in the play structures are unsafe enough, but that would’ve been on another level if it were real.

Sun’s line “Be creative on your own time, we are making ART!” It literally isn’t a creative activity, it’s a task. I know you can’t really apply logic to a lot of FNAF stuff, especially the DCA’s design, but if Sun were actually this detail-oriented and perfectionistic with everything, he’d never be able to function in childcare.

The fact that Sun’s “fear” of the dark seems like a bit. It literally is a bit. There’s no threat, it’s not real. I originally thought he just wanted the player out of his space faster and didn’t know how to assert a boundary there, but I think it’s actually just to make the player finish the tasks faster for data collection purposes.

Possibly also why he’s so comfortable being casually rude to the player. He is a jester, after all, and the player has lots of opportunities to do things they shouldn’t, too. It’s basically all a bit.

Also… what if the minigames have versions of the base AIs in there? It’s a version of the Sun AI with the theater programming and the basics of the childcare stuff? His entire existence is a shitty little simulation where he runs a singular activity for grown adults who can’t (or won’t) follow very simple instructions.

The biggest thing that’s been bothering me about the takes I’ve seen regarding HW2 Sun’s personality is that people have been calling him “mean” while completely ignoring the circumstances he’s reacting to. If a coworker came into my personal space and I was so generous as to share my favorite activity with them and they proceeded to intentionally ignore the rules I set and EAT SUPPLIES I USE FOR WORK? Yeah, no, I’d react like that too.

There’s definitely something interesting about how genuinely excited and happy Sun sounds when first welcoming his new friend the player to the daycare and inviting them to Arts & Crafts vs. when they return. He seems like he WANTS to befriend the player, but the game just assumes you’ll be upsetting him so there’s no option for dialogue where you’re nice to him and respect his boundaries and participate in an activity with him in a way he’s comfortable with.

I say “in a way he’s comfortable with” because he is a little weird about the whole “sit right there and DON’T MOVE” thing. He does seem actually excited and enthusiastic about the idea of shooting darts at the items you want so he can get them for you, though. Maybe because he sees it as a happy compromise, or maybe because it’s supposed to be a fun part of the game he’s programmed to be in charge of.

I saw some other commentary on Sun (primarily thinking of @kazzykatt) talking about how he seems almost excessively self-sufficient, and how this could possibly be due to neglect (he and Moon definitely aren’t as well cared for as the other animatronics, the generators in the daycare are a very lazy fix for actually reprogramming Moon properly, he seems bitter that he can’t fix the carousel on his own and he and Moon don’t seem to trust the player to fix it, their design is clearly better suited to the stage but didn’t get changed for the daycare, I could go on and on), and this would also explain his control issues to an extent.

Sun, in SB and HW2, doesn’t leave the daycare. He has so little that he’s in control of in his own life. He used to be on stage (and based on his dialogue probably misses it quite a lot) but had the job he was built for taken from him. He’s a perfectionist that’s constantly overwhelmed by too many things being marked top priority in his system, working too many hours with too many small children. Of course he’d be desperate to hold onto any little bit of control he has.

Honestly, when I first heard his voice lines, the initial vibe I got wasn’t “wow they made Sun mean” but “wow Sun sounds actually miserable” and I’m kind of surprised more people didn’t pick up on that. He sounds less bitchy and more like he’s lashing out because he’s trapped in an awful situation that’s completely out of his hands.

“Wait, are you saying none of HW2’s characterization should be taken seriously?”

You might be asking that, but my answer is a resounding NO! This is definitely still a Sun, and I think seeing two different Suns (even if we don’t know how much of HW2’s personality we can assume is meant to be taken seriously) is really helpful for interpreting what the base Sun personality might have.

It’s also important to keep in mind that none of the Suns we’ve seen were in a good situation. Security Breach Sun had the virus, Ruin Sun had gone slightly mad from isolation, and HW2 Sun is stuck in a shitty simulation babysitting bored adult staff as they fail to complete simple tasks. What we mostly know about him is how he responds to stress, and this is why there’s so much room for interpretation!

Here’s some traits I think every version of the Sun AI would have.

Love of making things. Despite everything, HW2 Sun seems to genuinely love doing arts & crafts. Especially with googly eyes. This could kind of be assumed from SB Sun, but he was also trying to entertain/bribe a child.

On this note… interest in fixing things? Maybe he just wants to avoid having to rely on staff, but if he and Moon are subject to that much neglect, it makes sense that he’d try to learn to do repairs himself. I saw @pixelchills talking about the possibility that the S.T.A.F.F. Bots in the DCA’s room are not there because Moon broke them, but because Moon collected them for Sun to practice fixing. It seems feasible to me, especially since taking something apart and putting it back together might have the same calming and satisfying effect on Sun as completing something like a paint-by-numbers.

Playful insults and lots of drama. I don’t mean actual rudeness, I mean friendly teasing. Again, he is a jester. A lot of his HW2 insults come across more like this. Hell, even his compliments come across like this with the delivery and immediate shredding. He’s just a theater kid at heart.

Difficulty regulating emotions under pressure. This is the kind of thing that would pop up on his worst days (such as being trapped in his destroyed home with a poor connection to his badly damaged physical form while the only help he’s seen in ages ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk, or being trapped in a shitty simulation while his only company ignores his instructions and puts their own safety at risk). He’d have to be able to manage this sort of thing better to work well with children, but everyone’s got their bad days. He’s prone to outbursts and tantrums when he’s overwhelmed and unable to stop people from breaking the rules and/or hurting themselves.

People pleasing and nonconfrontational. Yes, HW2 Sun, too. SB Sun seems genuinely desperate to make sure Gregory’s having a good time, and HW2 Sun is shockingly tolerant of some of the player’s bullshit (ex. how he tries to laugh off them shooting darts at him/throwing things). Even calling the player “good friend” when he’s not so happy to see them or threatening them with Moon instead of just telling them their time is almost up seem like signs of this to me. And letting the player make arts and crafts in the ruined daycare in HW2? Yeah, that’s a people pleaser through and through. Sun needs a lesson in setting boundaries (and for those boundaries to actually be respected).

Perfectionistic + “if you want something done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself” attitude. This would mostly manifest in how he completes work tasks, but I think every Sun’s incredibly detail-oriented and would rather do everything themselves just to make sure it’s exactly how they want. This could manifest in lots of ways, from “insulting the staff for how they put things away and telling them to do it again while he supervises” to “politely thanking them for their help and complimenting their hard work only to redo everything himself the moment they’re gone.” I think where on that spectrum you wind up is dependent on the version of Sun you’re interacting with and the environment his personality developed in.

High-energy and social! A given, of course. He never stops moving and everything is always so exciting. New people are friends he hasn’t met yet until proven otherwise.

Love of pranks… to an extent. Again, jester! I stand by my headcanon of Sun and Moon conspiring to convince the staff Moon’s some sort of spooky monster whenever he’s not actively dangerous. As long as he’s not making a mess, breaking the rules, throwing himself off-schedule, or actually hurting anyone? He’s all over it.

Anxiety. This seems like it’s at least partially caused by the lazy daycare reprogramming. All the Suns we’ve encountered seem to lack knowledge of how to actually get children to behave. It seems more like they programmed him with a bunch of games and activities and then set a bunch of super high-priority tasks for him such as “keep kids safe, keep kids happy, keep kids entertained, keep daycare clean” etc. and he’s unable to really prioritize so he’s just constantly overwhelmed.

Kinda always using “childcare voice.” If you know anyone who’s worked with kids, you know what I mean here. Even with adults, he talks to them like kids sometimes, just because it’s what he knows and what he’s used to and because his processor’s fried from however many hours a week he’s surrounded by kids. Consider his reactions to when you eat the crafts as an example. (IMPORTANT NOTE: I don’t think he’d coddle adults like children. It’s more about tone and vocabulary, like “customer service voice”.)

Stickler for rules. He cares about things being done right! The rules are there for a reason! Order is important to him (probably in no small part because it keeps him out of trouble and reduces his stress).

That’s about all I can think of for now, but as someone who writes a very friendly and sweet Sun, I actually don’t think HW2’s characterization was that far off from what I had already assumed based on Ruin/SB. The only difference is that the Sun I’m usually writing is in a much more supportive environment with lots of helpful staff that care about his well-being. If he didn’t have that, I could absolutely see him becoming more like HW2.

I will finish this off with two final important points:

Being an emotional person and liking “childish” things does not make an adult less of an adult.

(He’s a childcare worker, c’mon.)

If someone gets pissed off after being repeatedly antagonized, that does not make them a “mean/bitchy/sassy person.”

(Yeah, he doesn’t handle it gracefully, but to be fair, I wouldn’t either in his shoes.)

Thank you all for reading!!

#fnaf sun #fnaf #fnaf help wanted 2 spoilers #fnaf hw2 #fnaf help wanted 2 #fnaf headcanons #fnaf hcs #hw2 sun #hw2 spoilers #dca sun #sun fnaf #fnaf dca #dca fandom #daycare attendant sun

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cenorii · 11 months

Photo

I love Chriskers very much, so I needed a logical explanation for how they could be together again... English is not my native language, so there may be error rates in the text.

AU - SHARDS OF OBSIDIAN

I like to see a character completely fall when he loses everything he had. When his whole existence loses any meaning, and he becomes an empty place. I like to imagine if the character can handle it, or will he prefers oblivion.

He may have come out of shit before, but the total fall that destroyed him as a person is a new experience. Miraculously escaping death once again - which path would you choose? Resurrect again and keep doing things what will not work the third and fifth time? Something you don't see the point of anymore. Or will you try not to step on a rake? New way?

The rose-colored glasses you've been wearing all your life were broken. Lowered from heaven to earth. Ego is stuffed deep in the ass. There is nothing left of your personality, you do not see any value in yourself. You are nobody. And what will you do?

----

March 7, 2009. Chris finished with his sworn enemy, but this information was not reliable, because he made such conclusions knowing only his own truth. He saw it with his own eyes, but did not check. And now he will think so most of his life.

But Wesker survived. Once in the past, he was proud of himself that he escaped death thanks to a prototype virus. But right now, he only wanted to die like a real loser. But he was stopped by Oswell E. Spencer 's words, spoken to him a couple of years ago.

-You're the last one from "project W"

He lost everything, even himself. Everything he believed in was drowned in lava. Nothing made sense, not even his own life. Although, he could not even take an ordinary step towards death, because he was lying exhausted on a piece of land in the middle of lava. Burnt, but unfortunately alive. He no longer felt superior. And anyway... has he ever won? Only Sergei Vladimir, right?

Uroboros that got into his body during the final battle with Chris and Sheva cannot withstand high temperatures. Therefore, it was burned out of his body, which regenerated with the remnants of his strength thanks to the prototype virus. But even this power had a limit, because after two extra injections made by Chris, the prototype weakened and practically fell asleep in his body, depriving Wesker of his abilities. His body was fighting for life, but his mind did not want to live at all. Helpless, he could not even call himself a shadow of his former self.

Having lost all his strength, he realized how far he was from the God he considered himself to be. It was painful to realize. Weakness, never seen before, so unfamiliar, destroyed the remnants of personality inside his head.

And the thought came up again.

-You're the last one from "project W"

The thought that he was the only one of his kind, the last one, pierced his head and tormented him.

Is there no one left?

He killed Spencer with his own hand, and the rest of the project members died from the prototype virus. But something inside him did not allow him to complete this story.

Why do you live in the world now?

His entire body was destroyed from a disorderly regeneration that was only an echo of the previous one. Over time, it also left him. The prototype, finally falling asleep, endowed Wesker with unprecedented side effects, which had previously been restrained by proper injections. Feeling them, he even remembered Lisa Trevor, over whom he no longer wanted to joke. He felt inferior to her. The most insignificant thing in the world.

And so, with an absolutely empty head and hatred for his insignificance, he rises to what is left of his legs. Perhaps his tenacity is the only good quality. He won't be as lucky as he is now. There was nothing more to lose, where would a new page of life take him now?

His right arm moved erratically as he limped towards the fallen plane, and the remains of his left arm only dangled painfully. Wesker himself did not realize where the parts of his body were and did not immediately discover that something was missing.

"Auto... topagnosia...and alien hand syndrome?"

His head was damaged, but did not stop analyzing. Obsessive analysis, without a single outside thought. However, the damage doesn't the result of the battle, it was caused by regeneration. The prototype has always destroyed weak organisms and now its carrier was the weakest.

What keeps him alive? The thought that if he dies, he won't leave anything behind? Or this disgustingly burning self-hatred? A sense of value because he's the last one? Or maybe... a huge interest, where does it all lead?

His body was so disfigured that by all parameters it should not have existed in the world of the living. How amazingly he seized on his existence.

"Trust no one" was his motto. In this form, Wesker could not call for help from someone who worked for him. If he wanted to survive now, he could not allow himself to be finished off like a dog knocked down on the road. Therefore, he had to keep his life a secret from everyone.

A clear line has been drawn between this Wesker and the past, because his personality has suffered incredibly.

If the prototype virus once influenced his psychology, distancing him from everything human, now, freed from the influence of this virus, Wesker resembled an amoeba, because everything in which he was limited is now available again and very much atrophied. Even the desire for revenge did not seethe in him, because allowing himself such an emotion and not experiencing agony was a luxury for him.

It could have been a redemption story, of which there are quite a few. But this person is not one of those who admit their mistakes. (Now he rather considers himself a mistake.) He not one of those who adequately understands morality, ethics. And what he did cannot be redeemed. This is a story about the complete destruction of man, about how he creates himself anew.

Did he have a sense of the value of his own life? Probably, he will not spend any more seconds, from the ones given to him by fate, on useless or impossible plans. Because he is the last one.

Now, when his body is working to the limit, he cannot get up on the same rake.

What is its purpose? Survival for the first time. He will return to one of his bunkers, which no one knows about, and lock himself up in solitude.

It always seemed strange and very limited to me that Alex, trying to create a new body for herself, turned to biology, and not to robotics. Perhaps she would have been more successful if she combined several directions. It is logical that the new Wesker would try something new to help himself, if he's not senile. Therefore, in this situation, he would combine biology and technology. But where does he get the details, even if we imagine that he understands it now? The answer is simple: a new life - a new personality. For starters, he needs equipment. Activity on his accounts would attract the attention of BSAA, so the account he uses must be corporate. It won't be suspicious. Rats are fleeing from the TRICELL ship and withdrawing money?

When his body regains its working capacity, its next goal will be... nothing unusual. Nothing grandiose. He will become the real embodiment of neutrality, lost in his basement away from everyone. Until he reassembles himself. The fact is that it is not so easy to come up with a new goal in life when your previous goal, which you dreamed about for years, was trampled down, turned into nothing. They showed how imperfect your goal is and how naive you are. Therefore, the best plan for him now is not to have clear goals.

The side effects that the dying prototype gave him inside may well be incurable. Because of Alien Hand Syndrome, he now and then performs actions that he has not control. And because of autotopagnosia, he has great difficulty perceiving the location of parts of his own body, at first he could not distinguish an arm from a leg, and an eye from a nose. If he were a sentimental person and if he considered himself guilty of something, he would consider it a punishment for everything he had done, but he did not think about it at all. Now he thought exclusively with tasks, logic, because the slightest emotionality caused a severe headache.

Sometimes he suffers from amnesia and loses any information from his mind before that battle in the volcano. He also often forgets this event.

He endlessly writes diaries when memory is restored, so as not to forget anything. In order not to forget that he represented something and perhaps even respected himself.

Once.

But not now.

If Chris had seen him in such a state, he would have laughed, looking at how pathetic he was. He fancied himself a God, but in the end, what did he turn into? In a freak, suffering from senile and an inferiority complex.

He decided to direct all his knowledge and available information to something that would not be useless than all his previous plans. After all, he no longer spends the allotted seconds on nonsense, right? He needs something reliable.

On behalf of his fictitious identity, he will contact the BSAA and other organizations, try to cooperate, leaking his data accumulated over many years to everyone. Somewhere he will be listed as an "anonymous informant". However, it was he who gave the information to Chris in 2017. Helping his killer and enemy to... what? As if his damaged brain is trying in every way to signal that they are not finished. He is drawn to a painful past in which he was almost destroyed physically, and completely destroyed as a person.

Sometimes the prototype virus woke up in his body and regenerated, which prompted Wesker to think that he could still restore his crippled body. To some extent. So he took the remnants of PG67A/W injections from his stash just to try.

It is unlikely that he will be able to visit the Underground Garden in such a state in order to come up with something better from the progenitor virus. And he has no desire to return to the past, he no longer wanted to be tied to a needle. He chose a more practical option – prostheses.

The PG67A/W caused his body to regenerate by regrowing the destroyed tissue. But this effect was very weak, so it gradually slowed down until it practically stopped. The flesh still, even after 12 years, continues to recover. It slowly grows on top of the prostheses, and the bones, in turn, merge with the prostheses, destroying them. The whole process leaves a lot of scars. Even the damaged head was restored, but the side effects remained with him.

After many years, he will have to give up prosthetics, because the body will restore itself. And he would have to come up with something else, but he would obviously have a lot of time for that. He has a long life ahead of him. Aging is unlikely to be stronger than the prototype virus.

I think, closer to 2021, Wesker and Chris will still meet. Not by chance. Chris at first does not recognize in him the one whom he thought he killed 12 years ago. And when he realizes who is standing in front of him, then... However, that's another story.

There is a new danger ahead and it is better to keep enemies closer to yourself, suddenly they will be useful?

- You're pitiful.

- You pity me, Chris?

- No, and I will make sure that you live as long as possible in this world, because life is the best punishment for you right now.

#resident evil #chrisker #Chris Redfield #Albert Wesker #AU #resident evil 5 #resident evil 8

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astrophileous · 6 months

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Happy birth month to you, Zara!! 🎉

I'd like to request a Derek Morgan x BAU!reader fic (angst, maybe leading to smut) where they are on a bombing case and as usual Derek, being our ever loving and stubborn explosives expert, stays with a target who activated the bomb trigger. Maybe reader is as stubborn as Derek and stays with him and it becomes a thing and all that pent up adrenaline and tension just 🤌🏼🫴🏼 😅

maybe some fluff after too 🥹

Thank you so much love!! Thanks for requesting as well ❤️ I hope you like how this turned out 💕

Warning(s): fem!reader, explosives, profanities, verbal altercation, 18+ nsfw content minors dni, handjob, angry sex (starts out that way at least), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, lmk if I missed anything

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek was beginning to think that the universe was out to get him. It was the only logical explanation he could come up with for the situation he found himself stuck in: standing next to a minivan with an activated bomb underneath its driver's seat. The owner of the car, a woman by the name Pansy, was gripping his hand like a vice, cutting off circulation to it completely, but he couldn't care less about that. Getting blood into his hand was the least of Derek's worries right now.

"How's my baby?" Pansy suddenly asked amidst her tears.

Derek glanced at you, who had been trying to unbuckle the infant from his car seat for the past couple of minutes. One wrong move and the car would explode in the blink of an eye, obliterating everything in its immediate vicinity. This knowledge loomed at the back of your head as you languidly lifted the baby into your arms.

"Got him," you breathed out. You dashed away to take Pansy's son to safety, and despite her not being out of harm's way yet, Derek could feel the tightness of her grip around his hand loosening even if just for the tiniest bit.

Not three minutes later, you came back with a box of tools in your hand. Derek didn't like the grim expression on your face as your gaze flitted his way.

"The bomb squad isn't coming," you muttered.

"What?" Pansy exlclaimed. Even quiet as you were, there was no way you could say anything to Derek without Pansy hearing about it. The woman panicked as her eyes scampered repeatedly between you and Derek. "What are you talking about?"

"Pansy." Derek's voice came with a reassuring squeeze, a silent request for her to calm down. He turned to you again immediately, "What do you mean, they're not coming?"

"Land access is out since the bridge collapsed during the last bombing. They're sending in aerial support, but with everything that's been going on, it'll take at least 30 minutes, which is a time we don't have," you lamented, extending your hand to present the toolbox to Derek's face. "Hotch gave you the go-ahead."

With a curse under his breath, Derek accepted the box with his free hand. You slid in next to him so you could peek into the car.

"Pansy?" Frightened blue eyes scuttered towards your face. Despite the current predicament, you managed to offer her a somewhat genuine smile. "Hey, how are we holding up there? My name's Agent (Y/L/N), I work with Agent Morgan in the FBI. I wanted to let you know that your son is safe. He's with the rest of our team right now."

Pansy hiccuped around a sob. "He's safe?"

"One hundred percent." You nodded. "Listen, Agent Morgan here used to work with the bomb squad. He's gonna defuse the bomb so all of us can get out of here safely. But in order to do that, you need to let go of his hand, okay? Here, you can hold mine instead."

Your last statement caused Derek to turn his head around so fast, you were sure he would have gotten a whiplash. The incredulity was thick in his voice as he asked, "Sweet girl, what are you doing?"

You didn't look at him once. In fact, your eyes were still glued to Pansy's face when you said, "I'm not leaving you."

But Derek knew better.

You weren't saying that sentence to Pansy.

You were saying it to him.

In any other situation, Derek would have admonished you for your stupid decision. But right in that moment, in front of Pansy who was this close to spiraling, and with time completely against his side, Derek couldn't do anything else but relent. Reluctantly, he let go of Pansy's hand and allowed you to take his place. With another deep breath, Derek kneeled next to the car and began to work.

11 minutes and 16 seconds; that was how long it took for Derek to carefully disarm the explosive. Pansy sank into your embrace as soon as Derek removed the device from her seat, bringing it as far away from the crowd as possible as you took the young mother to see her infant son.

After neutralizing the threat, you received word from the rest of your team about the identity of the UnSub. Following a strenuous chase, you eventually closed the day with an arrest, ending the nightmare of the case once and for all. You marked it as a win in your book.

Back at the hotel, everyone scurried to their respective rooms in no time, eager to wash away the residual horror of the case with a cold shower and slept the exhaustion off before the team had to catch an early flight back to Virginia the next morning. You, too, had been dreaming about the plush mattress waiting for your arrival back at your room. But before you could reach the familiar door to your hotel room, your steps halted when warm fingers suddenly encircled your wrist.

"We need to talk," Derek said sharply. He didn't give you a chance to say anything before leading you towards his hotel room.

"What's this about, Derek?" you questioned once the door shut behind Derek's back.

"I can't believe you'd do something reckless like that, (Y/N)."

You frowned at him in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You stayed back knowing there was a bomb! You knew what could've happened. You didn't have to be there, but you stayed anyway. What the fuck, (Y/N)?!"

"That's what this is about?" You scoffed incredulously. "You're mad at me because I did my job?"

"That wasn't part of the job and you know it, sweetheart. You could've been killed."

"I know that! God, you don't think I know that?!"

"You knew? Oh, good! So you knew about the chances of you getting killed in that situation, but you still went ahead and did it anyway. What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I don't need to fucking explain myself to you, Derek." You stepped further into the room, trying to draw as much distance from the man whom you considered your best friend for the past two years of you working with the BAU. His hostility was foreign. You mourned the absence of his usual warmth as you wrapped your arms defensively around your torso. "What about you, anyway?"

"Me?"

"You act as if I was the only one putting themselves in danger, but you were there, too. You could've been killed as well. A little bit hypocritical, isn't it?!"

"That's different."

You rolled your eyes. "Of course it is. Why? Because your hero complex wouldn't allow you to share the stage with anyone else?"

"(Y/N)—"

"Or is it your trust issues that force you to do anything on your own?"

"Stop it—"

"Oh, I get it! Maybe you're no different than those other alpha males out there! Is that it? You want me to leave all the dangerous and scary jobs to the big, strong men—"

"I said, stop it."

A gasp stumbled past your lips when you suddenly found your back connecting with the wall, trapped between the concrete surface and Derek's muscular chest. There was no way to run. Derek's stare was sweltering as it pierced right through your soul.

"Have you always been this insufferable?" Derek growled.

"I don't know. Have you always been this chauvinistic?"

"You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?"

"Well—" you puffed your chest out, leveling your own stare with his unyielding one, "—why don't you make me?"

The atmosphere thickened inside the room.

Before you could process what was happening, Derek had suddenly lunged forward, claiming your lips in a kiss so heated unlike any other you had ever known.

Derek domineered every single one of your senses. Your body only knew his touch as his palms roamed your curves and edges. The kiss was a battle of desperation, a mess of tongue and heaving breaths that span your world off its axis.

When Derek's mouth strayed to your neck, nipping around the spot right below your ear, you swore your bones melted into liquid inside of your body.

"So goddamn aggravating," Derek griped against your ear. "You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?"

"You're just gonna keep talking? Or are you finally gonna put that mouth to a good use?"

The smirk on your lips was wiped away instantly when Derek kissed you again. He maneuvered the two of you towards the bed, where Derek laid you down with a gentleness that contradicted the spite he had shown so far. Clothes were being shed at an inhumane speed, and before long, you found yourself sprawled naked underneath Derek's impressive frame.

Your hand wandered southward as Derek peppered kisses across your chest. The moment your fingers wrapped around his length, Derek's whole body shivered in response.

"Fuck. What are you doing to me?" he muttered.

You continued to pump his shaft, enjoying the melodic sounds Derek was making as your pace grew faster with each second. Mere moments later, however, your movement was halted when Derek's fingers tugged at your wrist.

"Slow down, pretty girl. I wanna be inside of you when I cum."

His declaration was sealed with a kiss.

Using an unbelievable display of strength, Derek then manhandled you to your front, forcing you to rest on all fours as he settled on his knees right behind the sensual curves of your ass.

"Shit. Look at this pussy," Derek remarked crudely. You moaned into the bedsheets when his fingers rubbed up and down your slit, collecting the wetness without ever grazing the number one spot where you needed him the most. "Beautiful, sweetheart. You're so fucking gorgeous."

"You can tell me about how gorgeous you think I am later, Derek. Just shut up and fuck me already."

"Impatient girl." Derek chuckled.

You yelped when his palm landed a harsh slap to each one of your ass cheeks. The sting was chased away instantly by the feeling of Derek's cock prodding around your entrance. The two of you moaned in unison once his length went in, filling every inch of your channel until he was sheathed to the hilt.

As Derek started to move, the lump of arousal in the pit of your stomach increased in size. The drag of his cock felt delicious against your throbbing walls. Derek moved inside of you at a sedulous pace. The grip he had on either side of your hips felt like a promise of fresh bruises that you couldn't wait to wake up to once morning arrived.

With a particularly harsh thrust into your soaking pussy, Derek sent your brain gyrating into the stars.

"Derek, please—ohhh. Feels so good."

"I know, pretty girl. Fuck. Gripping my cock so well, sweetheart. You hear that? Hear how wet you sound?"

You nodded wordlessly, your ears assaulted by the squelching sound of your combined arousal as you pressed your face against the mattress. Derek drove into you even faster, hitting the same spot every single time that had you blabbering incoherently into the sheets.

"D-Derek? I'm—mmpphhh, I'm so close. S-So close... oh fuck."

"Yeah? You're close, sweet girl?"

Derek's arm went around your torso, then, holding you up beneath your breast without ever relenting his movement. His breath tickled your ear in this new position, and you held onto the muscular arm holding you up in fear of collapsing from the continuous strike of pleasure.

"Do you wanna cum, sweetheart? Wanna cum for me?"

"Y-Yes! Please, please, please, Derek. Please, wanna cum so bad."

"Okay." Derek's other hand slid down your abdomen, all the way past your navel, until the rough pad of his fingers found your swolen clit. He began to rub it aggressively, earning a loud cry as you writhed in rapture. "Go on, then, pretty girl. Cum for me. Just let it go, sweetheart."

Your whole body convulsed as you slammed head first into your climax. Derek held you close through it all, stroking your damp skin and whispering sweet nothings as you came down from your high. Not long afterward, his own release caught up to him, pushing Derek to empty everything he had into the warmth of your tender hole.

Once minutes had passed, Derek carefully pulled out from you before gently laying you down on the bed. You were lost too deeply in the post-orgasmic bliss to notice that Derek had disappeared into the bathroom. The fog in your brain only started lifting when Derek returned and spread your thighs apart, using a damp wash cloth to clean up the mess that the two of you made on your upper thighs.

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked after he tossed away the cloth, squeezing your thigh affectionately.

"Tired. But good," you answered with a smile. "So... we should probably talk about what just happened, huh?"

Your question caused Derek's shoulders to tense, but he relaxed them again when your fingers reached out for his hand.

"Sorry I yelled at you," he offered sincerely. "You don't know this, pretty girl, but I made a vow to myself a long time ago to protect you. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, I know that. But as long as there's air in my lungs, I will spend every day of my life trying to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

You nodded meekly as your heart constricted in its cage. Derek left a kiss to your knuckles before settling down to lie beside you.

"You're not the only one who made such a vow, Derek," you revealed quietly. "I also made one to myself that I would never drop your hand in the face of danger. I would never abandon you like that. I'd rather give my life than live in a world where you no longer exist."

"Don't say that. You don't mean it."

"But I do. I mean it with all my heart." You stroked Derek's cheek with the tip of your fingers, admiring his handsome face as his eyes stared at you intensely. "Wherever you go, I go, Derek."

"Wherever you go, I go as well," Derek promised, tightening the sanctity of the words with a kiss. "What you did was still stupid, though, so you better never do that again in the future."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we please pause this conversation 'till morning? I'm literally about to pass out right now."

Derek grinned upon hearing your statement. "I fucked you real good, didn't I?"

You punched him on the shoulder. "Asshole."

Derek laughed wholeheartedly before pecking your pouting lips. "Only for you, pretty girl."

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cleromancy · 7 months

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the fact that preboot jason never found out tim took jason red robin costume once he "got fired" (-tim, only in the privacy of his own head)/"graduated" (-dick, well-meaning)/"got thrown out with the other garbage" (-damian, hilarious)/"left" (-tim out loud, ignoring them both)

the way tim (reliable narrator) was like. yeah this costume is already tainted and i have to be willing to do morally gray things to prove bruce is alive. so thats why im wearing it. because its tainted. this is the most logical course of action and also the only reasonable explanation i retroactively landed on for a decision i already made

tim also having no way of knowing what the universe jason GOT THAT COSTUME IN WAS LIKE OR WHAT BRUCE DID FOR JASON IN THAT UNIVERSE

and its like well MY interpretation is that. yeah of course he wants to take on one of the outcast's identities to bring bruce back. and then of course hes going to just hang it up when bruce comes back because hes going to stop feeling like an outcast just as soon as bruce comes back and everything goes back to normal. This definitely doesnt signify a major change in the status quo or his role in the family (he *is* still family they signed the papers and everything, they gave him the name, it wasnt just pity its real hes still family he *is*, he hasn't been cast out, he *hasnt*) or his priorities or-- its temporary. when bruce comes back everything is going to be better and he wont need this suit anymore and hes going to hang it up just as soon as he stops feeling this way and everything is going to be fine.

smash cut to bruce upon his return doling out one (1) hug and immediately fucking off on a globe trotting vanity project and Tim just left staring after him like Oh. okay

(and like bruce was never like. going to be able to magically fix anything even if he *had* any interest in doing so. this was not a reasonable expectation tim had. some of the shit tim is losing his absolute marbles over does not actually even *need* to be "fixed." to be excessively clear.)

anyway i think jason "do you really think youre that good" "so work *with* me" "join me. be my robin" todd deserved the chance to really gleefully dig his fingers into every single one of those sore spots. GO FOR IT JASON. MAKE HIM WORSE

also like. god battle for the cowl was so unserious on every possible level but can you imagine if dick at the time had been like "i still cant figure out how he GOT OUT OF PRISON. he used the jla codes! how did he even get those!" and tim (guy who gave jason the fucking codes in robin 182) was just like

yeah. weird

#can you imagine wjat if those comics had been good. much to fucking think about #jaytim #dc #timothy jackson goodtimes drake #rambles #text #jaytim text #tim text

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fandomxpreferences · 11 months

Text

A Heart That Bleeds

Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

TW:angst, cheating, heartache, fluff, mention of drinking, I think thats all

Summary: Rafe betrays you in the worst way. This is set up to be choose your own adventure. There is an Angst ending and a Hurt to Comfort ending labeled and you can scroll to whichever you prefer!

Dating Rafe comes with its perks and downfalls. He showers you with love and affection, buys you lavish gifts, and always makes sure you're taken care of. He insists you're his princess, and he makes sure to treat you as such.

On the flip side, being with the Kook King comes with a constant influx of competition; though Rafe insists the women who constantly beg for his attention can't compete where they can't compare.

In the beginning, it didn't bother you. In fact, it was almost a sense of pride the way women would eye you with jealousy as Rafe kept his hand planted firmly on the small of your back. You've never been one to be insecure; you know your worth and you know Rafe loves you.

Over time it became a persistent and annoying sore spot. Though he's never given you any reason to worry or doubt him, the never-ending batting of eyelashes and unrelenting flirting has taken a toll.

It nags in the back of your mind, an incessant worry that he'll get bored or find someone better. He never hesitates to put these concerns to rest with reassuring whispers, but it only quells the ache until another blonde with a perfect body flashes her pristine smile.

Despite your fears of Rafe leaving you, him cheating has never crossed your mind. Which is exactly why your stomach drops when you open up the DM that you've been staring at for the past ten minutes.

Hey, I'm so sorry to be that girl, but I saw you on Rafes insta and wanted to tell you that we hooked up at a party last weekend. I didn't know he had a girlfriend, I'm genuinely sick over it.

You blink down at the words until they start to blur together, re-reading it until you feel the dull thud of an oncoming headache start to form. You briefly think that it's a cruel joke until you click on her profile.

She's not from Outerbanks, her bio states that she's in a sorority at UCLA on the other side of the country. There's no logical explanation for how she would know Rafe, or about the party you couldn't attend at the boneyard unless she's telling the truth.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to figure out how to respond as the blinking cursor mocks you.

Do you have proof?

It's a simple question, one that you almost don't want the answer to. If she does, then that means your heart is about to be ripped out of your chest. If she doesn't, the doubt has already been planted and it'll eat away at you that you'll never really know.

Your phone dings again, and this time you open the message instantly. It's a photo of her and Rafe; one where she's smiling brightly and he's turned away, clearly unaware of the selfie being snapped.

I'm so fucking sorry

The first hot tear of many splashes against the bright screen, and you shake your head.

It's not your fault. It was his responsibility to be loyal, not yours. Thank you for telling me.

You click the lock button before deciding to just turn it off completely. You need time to think, and the last thing you want is for Rafe's name to pop up. Your back leans against your headboard as you stare straight ahead at the wall.

The tears seem to flow endlessly, your arms wrapped around your knees as you process his betrayal. Your lip starts to quiver as your throat constricts, and you can feel the sob bubbling up in your chest.

As soon as it rips free, more follow in quick succession until you're wailing into your hands. There's a knock on your bedroom door and you freeze, praying that whoever it is goes away.

"Y/N? Babe, are you okay?"

Sarah's voice rings out and your eyes squeeze shut. You completely forgot that you made plans to hang out. You do your best to stabilize your watery voice, hoping to sound convincing.

"Yeah, I just don't feel well. I meant to text you and cancel."

There's a beat of silence and you momentarily think that she bought it. In reality, she had heard you from all the way down the hallway and is debating whether to call your bluff. She lands on the latter and opens the door gently, taking a step into your bedroom.

"What happened?"

It's only two words, but it's enough to turn you back into a blubbering mess. Her eyes widen as she races toward you, her arms engulfing you immediately while pressing your head into her shoulder.

You return the embrace, collapsing into her as your heart bleeds. You stay there for a few minutes before turning your phone back on and handing it to her with the messages open.

She takes it from you with a frown, reading it quickly while her free hand rubs up and down your back in soothing motions. Her stomach sinks upon seeing what has you upset, and rage floods her system along with confusion.

This doesn't make any sense. Her brother loves you more than anything, she sees it every time you're with him. He wouldn't do this to you; yet the evidence is staring her in the face.

She stays silent as she crawls under the blankets with you and holds you close. She doesn't press for more information or ask questions, she simply exists with you at this moment and tries to console you the best she can.

The two of you stay like that until you fall asleep, and she stays awake for a while to make sure you don't stir. Her eyes dart to your phone when it starts vibrating, and she clenches her teeth at the photo of you and Rafe at midsummer's as he calls you.

She lets it go to voicemail, finally shutting it back off when he calls three more times followed by a slew of texts.

You're awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door, your swollen eyes slowly fluttering open.

Your head is pounding, and the events from last night come rushing back as nausea washes over you. Sarah is still next to you, her body shifting as she starts to rouse. Another knock comes, a little harder this time and you scowl.

"Who is it?"

Your voice is raw after hours of screaming and crying, and your hand comes up to rub at your throat.

"It's me, baby. You haven't answered any of my calls or texts."

The familiar voice sends a sharp pain through your chest, and Sarah sits up while shooting you a worried glance. She's about to say something when your voice rings out, and she visibly winces at the venom dripping off your tongue.

"Go the fuck away."

On the other side of the door, Rafe pales at your harsh command. You've always had a temper and a sailor's mouth, but it's never been directed at him. Not even in the midst of fights that have you ripping your hair out.

You sound cold and emotionless, and suddenly panic claws at his chest.

"Wha- baby what's wrong?"

He sounds genuinely upset, and that only pisses you off more. How dare he act scorned when he's the one that destroyed your relationship?

"Why don't you ask Emma?"

Your door is abruptly ripped open to reveal a wild-eyed Rafe, terror clear on his chiseled features. Sarah's eyes dart between the two of you for a second before she lets herself out, sending her brother a cruel glare as she passes him and knocks into his shoulder.

"Baby…"

His voice is already shaky, and you watch him from your place in bed.

"Don't call me that, Rafe."

His heart plummets upon hearing you call him by his name; something you never do. You refer to him exclusively with sweet nicknames, and the gravity of the situation starts to hit him.

"Did you fuck her?"

His mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to figure out of this is some horrible nightmare he can wake up from. He quickly discovers it's not, and he's left to face the consequences of his actions.

"What?"

He isn't trying to play dumb, he just genuinely didn't hear you over the ringing in his ears as his entire world crashes and burns at his feet.

"Did I stutter? I said did. you. fuck. her?"

Each word is punctuated with a short pause, and his hands wring together as your iciness freezes his blood solid. He nods slowly, and you stare him down in a way that makes him shrink back.

The devastation in your eyes nearly causes him to be sick; unable to live with himself knowing he's the cause of your anguish.

"No, I need to hear you admit it."

Hot tears rush past his waterline, falling so fast and heavy that they drip straight off his face and onto your carpet.

"Yes, I-"

He pauses for a moment, having to force himself to even speak the words that taste like acid.

"I fucked her. I was blackout drunk. I barely knew my name and that's no excuse, but you can ask the guys-"

You cut him off, your eyes narrowing into thin slits.

"Topper and Kelce knew? So I've been walking around looking like a fucking idiot for a week while you all lied to my face?!"

His mouth hangs open while he flounders, wracking his brain for something that can make this better. He knows there's nothing he can say to undo the harm he's caused, but it doesn't stop him from trying.

"Pl-please. I'm so sorry. Ba- Y/N, you have to know that I regret it more than anything. I love you so much. So fucking much, and I never ever wanted to hurt you. If I could take it back I would in a heartbeat."

Your silence is deafening as you mull over his words, your own emotions selling you out as salty tears overflow.

"If the roles were reversed, if I was the one who slept with someone else, would you be able to forgive me and move past it?"

Your question hangs in the air, and he waits for a second before answering.

"It would be hard but yes. I love you and I want to be with you, so yes. I'd learn to trust you again."

He means it from the bottom of his heart. There is legitimately nothing you could ever do to make him give up on you.

"Why don't we put that to the test then? See if you really mean it."

He looks up at you from where he collapsed to his knees at the edge of your bed, literally begging for forgiveness.

"Wait, what?"

You shrug casually, a stark contrast to the sorrow clearly displayed on your wet cheeks, and elaborate.

"If you're so sure you could forgive me after someone else has touched me and seen me and heard me in those most intimate moments, then let's prove it. I'll go out to fuck a random touron and the score will be settled."

The idea nearly makes him dry heave, yet he knows he doesn't have a leg to stand on. If that's what it takes, then he'll do it. Even if it does kill him inside. He isn't sure if you're serious or just want to hurt him, but either way, he can't blame you.

You have every right to be petty and spiteful.

"If tha-"

Your voice rings out over his, and he hates himself for the sheer heartache that can be heard as you strain to talk. Your words are barely coherent as your voice raises several octaves, your throat clamping down like a vice.

"You didn't even tell me. You turned me into that girl. The clueless girlfriend that has to find out from the other woman. Do you know how much worse that is?"

His vocal cords nearly collapse as he openly cries, the pain in his chest too much to bear.

"I'll do anything. Just- please. Please I can't lose you."

HURT TO COMFORT

Your gaze meets his, and you feel your resolve start to crumble. Despite the circumstances, seeing him in agony hurts you just the same.

He notices your demeanor soften and moves to sit next to you while pulling you into his lap. Against your better judgment, you let him; finding comfort in the same man that broke you.

"Baby, you have to believe me when I say I would never ever knowingly do that. I would never intentionally hurt you, but I did and I recognize that. I'll never touch alcohol again if it means that I get to hold you and love you. There is nothing in this world more important than you."

The last of your strength shatters and you fall forward while weeping into his neck. He wraps his arms around you, rocking back and forth as he pets your hair and peppers kiss to the top of your head.

"You broke my fucking heart, Rafe."

His eyes pinch shut, your words cutting through him like a hot knife through butter.

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry. I should have had enough respect to tell you. I promise I will spend the rest of my life putting it back together. Please, just give me the opportunity."

He breathes a sigh of relief when you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, fresh tears stinging his eyes. He almost lost you, and you would have had every right to walk away.

Yet here you are in his arms, putting the heart he crushed back in the palm of his hand. That's who you are. You're forgiving and gracious, even in the darkest of times. You love him as much as he loves you and you're just as willing to work through any problems as he is.

He revels in your scent, committing every last detail to memory. The way you mold against him, the feel of your soft skin under his palm, the combination of coconut shampoo and cherry lip gloss that he adores so much.

He holds you tighter, terrified that if he lets go he'll never get to experience this again. He knows the road to healing is long and grueling, but he'll walk barefoot over glass if you ask him to. As long as you have each other, you can get through anything.

ANGST

You shake your head, the smell of his cologne and just his overall presence clouding your mind.

"You lost me as soon as you had her."

The simple statement causes Rafe to choke on a sob, and he clambers up on the bed. Your eyes shut tightly as he leans his forehead against yours while his hands hold onto your face as if it's the last time he'll ever touch you.

The heart-shattering fact that it probably is slams into you like a train and you keep your eyes closed. If you open them and see him staring back at you for even a second, you know you'll cave.

"I love you."

His voice is sincere as he whispers the phrase softly, and it only causes more grief to swim in your chest.

"No."

You feel his head slowly shake from side to side and push him off of you.

"Don't say that."

You turn your head to the ceiling and peel open your eyelids, blinking quickly to try and stop the tears.

"No, Rafe. I never would have done this to you. You knew I was insecure and you hurt me in the worst possible way. I will never look at you the same. I can't hug you or kiss you and not think about what it was like when you were doing the same things to her. I'll never be able to marry you. I can't spend the rest of my life in fear. I deserve more than that."

All the anger has melted away, replaced with a searing hot pain that feels like a serrated knife being twisted in your heart.

"We could have had everything. We were happy. You threw it all away, and I'm not going to be the naive girl that gives you a chance to do it again. When someone shows me who they are, I believe them. This is all on you. I gave you everything I had, and I can sleep in peace knowing that's the truth. I'm not going to forgive you just so you don't drown in guilt. Choke on it as you watch me have a happy life knowing that you could have lived it with me."

He opens his mouth to respond, and you point to the door while making eye contact for the last time.

"Get out."

It's quiet, but full of conviction and he clings to your waist.

"No. No, I'm not letting you go."

You try to peel his arms off of you, fighting the urge to let him stay.

"Stop, Rafe. You need to leave."

He's desperate now, pleading as if his life depends on it.

"No! I'm not walking away from us!"

He's just below a shout now and you start kicking him away.

"You don't get to make that choi-"

He interrupts you, not willing to give up without a fight.

"This can't be over! I can't live without you!"

You launch out of bed as soon as you break free from his grip, your voice screaming loud enough to shatter glass.

"Get the fuck out, Rafe!"

Sarah runs back into the room upon hearing you, and steps in front of her brother.

"You have to leave before the cops get called, Rafe. Go."

She's trying to shove him towards the door, but it does little to budge his sturdy frame. He looks down at her, and her heart squeezes at the torment in his eyes.

"No, Sarah. Please, she's the love of my life."

His voice is broken, despair seeping out of every pore.

"I know, Rafe. I know. But you have to listen, okay? This isn't helping anyone."

He takes one last look at you curled up on the floor, trembling as sobs wrack your body, and deflates. He doesn't want to hurt you anymore, and so he turns on his heel while Sarah collapses next to you. His knees nearly give out as he walks to his truck, a broken shell of the man he once was.

@genius2050

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #Rafe Cameron #outer banks imagine #outer banks angst #outer banks fic #outer banks

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