#I'm so excited to see what my new computer case is going to look like

[minkyungseokie]

When Nothing Goes Right | LS2

synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be

warnings; none

note; requested

note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother

Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Logan Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.

Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.

Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.

Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.

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Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.

As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"

Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.

Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.

"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.

She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.

It wasn't hard.

She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.

The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.

The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.

Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.

"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed

Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.

“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.

“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.

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Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.

Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.

“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.

Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.

“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.

Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.

He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.

Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.

“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”

“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.

James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”

“But—“

“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.

Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Now let’s go.”

[writersrkive]

hi!! i just read your spencer fic about telling him not to shut up. i specifically loved the fact that the reader’s first language isn’t english, i feel like the majority of the fandom doesn’t have english as their first language.

could you write something where the reader’s first language isn’t english and they’re having trouble with their paperwork because people tend to use a lot of difficult words, and spencer notices it and helps them out? maybe reader often stays late to finish working because they need to read sentences multiple times to fully understand them?

if you don’t feel like writing this feel free to skip or write anything else <3

(it’s getting late for me here but i look forward to reading more of your work when i come back from work tomorrow :)

have a good day!!

A little help never hurts | Spencer Reid

summary: Paperwork days are hell, especially for you, since English isn't your first language. You don't say anything to any of your coworkers because you're afraid they will see you as incapable of doing your work, but one genius boy might have been looking at you a lot and definitely notices something is wrong. He is determined to help you. An extra help never hurts, right?

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: English isn't reader's first language, mention of reader being from another country (I think that's all, but let me know!)

a/n: Omg, my second request! I loved the idea, thanks! I hope you like it rebel-ezra (does this notify you when I answer your inbox or do I have to tag people when it's not anon? lol, sorry). I'm excited to see how much you enjoy this one, and I'm sorry if it's not as good as you expected. English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Happy New Year, reader! I hope you can get distracted a little with this fic if, if you need to. You did it! Next year we have more people, places and things to know, hugs!

important: Are you guys interested in being in a Criminal Mind's tag list for my fics? If that's the case, let me know in the comments, please. I might be doing one if there's enough people.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

The feeling of pressure on your head and the emptiness of your stomach has stressed you since a few hours ago. You didn't have anything to eat since the doughnut and cup of coffee that García offered you in the morning when she arrived. But you weren't close to going home.

Paperwork was always a pain in the ass, but especially for the poor newest member of the BAU. Why is that? Well, your mother language wasn't English, and of course you had a good level —otherwise you wouldn't have the opportunity to study and work in the U.S.A.—, but the documents were too formal and technical given the seriousness of the issues being discussed.

“Shit.” You whispered, typing a new confusing and complicated word on your computer for the third time in an hour.

“Hey, do you want to go to my place after work? Tonight seems like a free night, if duty doesn't call.” Emily had approached you with a warm smile, knowing that paperwork was never easy.

“Thanks, Em. But I think tonight I'm going home to rest. It's been a long week.” But you gave that answer because at that point, it was routine to stay way later than your workmates.

Spencer was coming back from the bathroom, ready to take his stuff and go home. It was really late, so he thought he was the only one besides Hotch in the office. However, he saw you at your desk: your head resting on a dictionary, the computer next to you and several post-it notes stuck in the drawers of your desk.

He called your name twice, but of course the sleep you were immersed in did not allow you to hear it. Footsteps were heard in the darkness. There were just a few desk lamps on, that's why he was able to see your peaceful expression. He touched your shoulder slightly and when you opened your eyes, all you saw was a shy smile.

“Reid, what's wrong?” You asked, feeling your head throbbing.

“Are you okay? You fell asleep.” He whispered.

“Oh… Yeah… I'm okay.”

“Are you sure? You seem pretty tired. It's late so maybe you should go home”

“Don't worry. I have work to get done anyway.” You sighed, remembering how you still had to review a quarter of documents.

“What? But you have been working on this for hours.”

His comment made you blush. Of course you haven't told anyone how hard it was to review every document twice or even thrice to be sure that you didn't misunderstand or mistranslate anything. Somehow you felt that if anyone knew they would criticize or mock you. Not that you thought about your coworkers being mean, but through your journey of learning another language and moving from your country, you met all kinds of people. Also, you didn't want to be seen as weak or incapable of doing your job.

“Today was just a lot, that's all.”

“You usually work quickly, though I think I know what's going on. You keep a dictionary on your desk and usually carry a pocket version in your backpack, the days when you leave work late are paperwork days and you usually close the translator tab on your computer as soon as someone approaches your desk.” He explained looking around your stuff as if he was analyzing everything. “Is it about the language?”

“Yes, yes it is, okay? There, I said it!” Your frustrated tone made Spencer realise how tired you were about the situation. You didn't even try to deny it, you just hid your face around your arms, leaning on your desk —as if you were recreating the position he found you asleep previously—.

“Hey, but what's wrong with that?” He asked softly.

“What do you mean ‘what's wrong with that'? I'm supposed to understand everything that is on the documents, but I become slower because I have to verify and translate information that I don't understand because it is a more technical language.” The words were audible enough to him even though your face was still hidden.

“Do you realize English isn't your first language, right?” He tried to get you to look at him, but it didn't work. “Everyone in this work has difficulties when it comes to other languages. You don't have to feel bad because it's happening to you.”

“Does it happen to you?” Your shy eyes met his.

“Not really.” He answered with a hint of a cocky smile.

“See?”

“Well, I didn't say anything about me, you were the one who asked. Besides, I'm trying to be more sociable.” His comment made you chuckle slightly, but that chuckle became a laugh when you repeated what he said in your mind. “You are really funny, do you know that?”

“A-Am I?” The way you were looking at him, with a tired, yet cute, expression and a little smile, made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I can also be of great help at work. Let me help you with the files.”

“It's not necessary.”

“It is. You need to rest, so let me get started while you go to the machine for something to eat. A little help never hurts.” He whispered, already taking the documents.

“Fine.”

A few minutes later you returned with an open package of cookies. You stopped for a moment, admiring the furrowed eyebrows of the genius boy who was reading the files with a lot of attention. Then you realized how fortunate you were for having coworkers like him. Or maybe was he himself the one who was so amazing that you would never get tired of working with him.

“Agent. Can I talk with you for a second?” Hotch's voice welcomed you the next morning.

Spencer's view followed your figure to the boss’ office and that didn't go unnoticed by his best friend.

“Pretty boy had fun yesterday?” Derek teased.

“What?”

“You know… Penelope said that last night Hotch wasn't the only one who left work late. You and our new colleague had a date at work?” His strong arm embraced the other's shoulders.

“N-No! I thought we were the only ones… No! Nothing happened!” Spencer struggled to say.

“Reid, can we talk?” Your voice made him turn around. He just hoped you weren't angry.

“What is it? Is everything alright?” He asked when both of you walked into an empty hallway.

“Actually, yes. Apparently Hotch received a request from the team's genius profiler to work with me on my paperwork days. So, you are having trouble concentrating on the files because of some headaches and need someone to work with?” As you spoke your tone of voice slowly reflected, with a mocking tone, that you knew perfectly well why Spencer had spoken to Hotch.

“Am… Yeah. Headaches are the worst.” He whispered looking to the floor.

“Thanks, Spence.” You said with sincere gratitude. Spencer looked at you again and felt a weight lift off his shoulders when he realized that you weren't mad at him.

“Sure. Whatever you need, I'm here for you… as coworkers, of course!” His voice got a little higher when he clarified immediately.

You were about to walk past him to return with the others, but then he spoke again. “Do you think maybe we can go and have coffee on a free day? I mean, I can help you with the words that are difficult for you. And, actually, I was thinking that I might need help with your language too. We can help each other, you know?” He gulped.

“Sure. A little help never hurts.” You smiled and walked away hiding a smile while Spencer was left alone, standing in the middle of the hallway, unable to believe that he had just asked you out. “Hotch is gonna kill me if he finds out…”

[yanderes-galore]

Can you do Mike afton with your prompts 57, 53, and 10? Also can it be romantic?

Sure! I'll see what I can do :) Been a bit since I've done this AU. This is a new take on it.

@okchijt helped me with this so this is mostly their take while I filled in the plot they gave me. Requester wanted FLS AU.

Yandere! FLS! Michael Afton Concept

What is the FLS AU?

Yandere! FLS AU! Michael Afton Prompts 57, 53, and 10

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up?"

"I've given myself all to you! Yet you call me a monster!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Breaking and entering, Manipulation, Kidnapping implied, Forced relationship implied.

The phone rings on and on as you type away at your keyboard. On screen is an email soon to be sent to your boss, Henry. You were nearly at a breakthrough on an important case.

Incriminating evidence filled the email. Many documents and notes were attached all about two people behind a long list of murders. The case of The Aftons was very important to your employer.

Your job was to play detective. You were meant to work for them at their Pizzeria, collect evidence, then leave. That was it... that was the job.

Then one of them, the son, got attached.

You had a feeling he caught on to you. Even now as you type away and prepare to send Henry your evidence your phone rings. You knew it was him, the voice mails were endless.

You hadn't bothered to listen to them. Instead you focused on your email by putting on the final touches. Then your mouse drifted to the send button...

Only for the power to cut.

You go silent, eyes blown wide and looking at the computer in shock. There wasn't any storms. Did you flip something by accident?

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up? Are you ignoring me?"

The voice echoes from close by and you feel the hair on your skin shoot up. You spin your chair around and search the darkness for answers. Unfortunately... your questions are answered.

Michael stands in the doorway of the room. His posture is confident and he stares at you like you're his newest prey. You can only stare as he blocks your exit.

"Don't you know how much I've done for you?" Michael sighs. "I've been protecting you from my father as I already know your plans. I could've just killed you... but now I like you too much for that."

The man in front of you does a fake pout while leaning in the doorway. The fact he knew everything made your heart drop to your stomach. He's more clever than you thought.

"I've already sacrificed so much by allowing these games to play out. However, this still means I have to prevent you from exposing the family business, y'know?" Michael sighs, playing with your emotions to satiate the sadism within him.

"You're a monster for doing all of this!" You yell at the man. You can see Michael feign shock and surprise before chuckling.

"I've given myself all to you! Yet you call me a monster!" Michael accuses in a playful manner before turning serious. "I could've just killed you, but I'm nice enough to protect you and let you live!"

You quickly stand up to keep distance as Michael walks forward. Despite the situation you manage to keep yourself calm. It's in the line of work, after all. Yet you still find yourself shaking when he gets close to you.

"I've been so patient with you. I think things should go my way for once, shouldn't they?" Michael hums towards you. You try to run around him but he catches you with ease. It's funny to him... did you not think he was an experienced killer?

You feel your chest hit the desk hard as your arms are held behind your back. The resulting impact causes the computer to crash onto the ground, the email and evidence now long destroyed. Panic sets in as struggle and fight against the killer behind you.

Said killer only appears excited by your fate.

"I think it's time you rest, dear. Isn't it getting late?" Michael coos, raising the knife in his hand. You suddenly feel a blunt object smack into your head before your vision darkens.

"You're stuck with me, like it or not." Michael whispers with a giggle before your vision fails you.

[trekscribbles]

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3. I'm just overly excited and want to share what I have.)

Sophie didn’t want justice. She didn’t even want revenge.

She wanted to disappear.

But she couldn’t leave—not really, not yet. Not with Hardison in denial and Parker out for blood, and Nate… Nate would wait to implode until the job was over, but when it happened, there would be collateral damage. Someone needed to be there to sweep up the pieces, so she did what she always did when her heart took the shrapnel of a job gone wrong.

She became someone else.

Eliza Clancy walked into her new job at Lancaster’s downtown office without a care in the world. She shrugged her rhinestone-studded bag onto her desk and gushed good mornings to the various clients who streamed through the door, and she did her work with all the diligence of a fresh hire who still hoped to impress her boss. When Stephen Lancaster sauntered through the doors, Eliza turned the full force of her smile on him and earned a wink in return. She let him take the lead in the conversation, encouraging his advances with fluttered lashes and a blushing agreement to join him in his office. Lancaster smirked and strutted away, his heels clacking across the lobby. He played with his cuff links as he pressed the elevator button for his office, and Eliza kept a smile on her face in case he looked back before the doors closed.

Then she went to work.

Hardison had given her a thumb drive, and she plugged it into the computer tower under her desk and followed his directions for installing his program. His accent is atrocious, she texted Nate, unable to keep her hands still while she waited for the download to finish. His entire focus is on vowel mergers, and he completely ignores rhoticity and t-glottalization. Not to mention the fact that he’s combining half a dozen dialects. He wants very badly to be seen as Southern, but I’d guess he’s from New York.

Did you get Hardison’s program running? Nate replied.

She glanced at the download bar. Working on it.

“Excuse me?”

Eliza palmed her phone, flashing a smile at the man standing behind her counter. “Good morning, sir. How can I help you?”

The man gave her a polite nod. “Mornin’, ma’am. I’m just picking up an envelope for delivery.”

Eliza glanced at his jeans-and-hoodie combo, and the plain ball cap he held in his left hand, and raised her eyebrows. “Delivery for which company?”

“No company, ma’am,” he said, smiling. “I just do this on the side. My name’s on that envelope there. See?”

Eliza set her hand on the manila envelope labeled J.B. “This?”

“That’s the one.”

Something prickled in the back of her mind, and she tilted her head at him. “This is from Mr. Lancaster?”

“Directly from his office,” J.B. answered.

Well, that was deliberate wording if she’d ever heard it. “And he knows it’s from his office?”

A flicker of interest brightened in his eyes. “Y’know, I’ve made pick ups here before, and I’ve never seen you. I would’ve remembered.”

“I’m new,” Eliza said, leaning forward on her elbows.

“Is that so?” J.B. gave her another curious look, his smile widening. “And just when did you start?”

She lowered her voice. “This morning.”

“That’s pretty convenient timing.”

“For what?” she asked innocently.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Never mind me, I just get to talking. But I wonder if you might help me with something else.”

She waited, inviting him to go on with a small smile.

After a moment, he eased forward a step and set his arm on the counter. “What’s Mr. Lancaster’s schedule like for the rest of the day?”

“Are you hoping for an appointment?” Eliza asked.

“Not specifically,” J.B. said. “Just curious. Between the accident at his new office building and his press release regarding that historical find, I’m sure he’s a busy man. I suppose I was just wondering how busy.”

“He’ll be in his office all afternoon,” Eliza said, watching J.B.’s expression carefully.

He smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. You’ve been a big help.”

He tucked the envelope under his left arm and nodded to her as he turned away. She almost went back to her work, but some instinct kept her watching as he passed the security guard standing at the doors, where he dropped the envelope, laughed at himself as the guard bent to pick it up, and deftly slipped the walkie-talkie off the man’s belt.

He glanced back at the lobby, noticed her watching, and winked.

“I think he likes you,” said the woman at the next desk.

Eliza raised her eyebrows. “You think so? Have you seen him before?”

“He’s been here a couple times in the last few weeks,” her neighbor answered. “Sorry, you’re new, right? I didn’t catch your name.”

“Eliza.”

The woman smiled. “I’m Peg. You figuring things out okay?”

“Oh, sure,” Eliza said. “Everyone here is so nice.”

“Of course they are.” Peg gave a short laugh, and Eliza tilted her head. “Well, that all stems from Mr. Lancaster,” Peg went on. “He sets the tone for everyone. I noticed he talked to you quite a bit when he came in.”

Was that jealousy? Eliza waved a hand and glanced at her computer to check the progress of Hardison’s program. “He was only asking about his schedule.”

Peg tossed her hair. “He likes to check on us. I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited you up to his office. He does the same for all the new girls.”

Eliza flashed her a disarming smile. “Oh, I don’t think anything of it. I’m sure he’s a great boss, but he’s not my type.”

“I see.” Peg’s expression softened, and she returned the smile. “Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m happy to help.” 

That was... interesting. And not quite in character for Eliza—she was friendly but tough, used to taking care of herself, used to getting her way. She wouldn’t have backed down from Peg’s challenge. But she’d opened her mouth to deliver a backhanded comment about Peg marking her territory, and at the last second, she’d deferred. She’d chosen sugar over vinegar, reassurance over escalation.

And it had worked.

Eliza studied her computer screen without seeing it. That wasn’t her style. She didn’t submit, she needled. She found out what her target wanted, and then she withheld just enough to make them want to help her, made them crave her attention and approval. Backing off like this, disarming her opponent with quiet charm—that was more like—

She shook her head, blinking hard at the screen.

“A little tip,” Peg said, leaning back in her chair to look at Eliza. “Mr. Lancaster likes it when we bring in pictures of our families. He wants the office to have a homey feel.”

Eliza swallowed back a rush of emotion and smiled. “Well isn’t that nice.”

“Kids especially,” Peg went on. “Married with kids is always good.”

“Sorry,” Eliza said, huffing a small laugh and holding up her plain-fingered left hand. “No husband, no kids.”

“Well that’s all right, other family works too. You got any siblings?”

No. Eliza was an only child—driven, independent, and confident. She’d come to the city to work her way into a management role; she had big dreams, and she wasn’t afraid to fight for them.

“A brother,” she said, without her brain’s permission. “I had a brother.”

Sympathy chased the lingering distrust from Peg’s expression. “Oh, hon, I’m sorry. You were close?”

“He—We—” she stammered. “We were…” What were they? How could she possibly describe what he was to her? But Peg was watching, and she had to say something, so she took a breath and stole the words he’d once said about her. “He was a brother and a best friend, all rolled into one.”

“You don’t have to put up a picture if it’s too hard,” Peg said. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

A message on the screen blinked, and Eliza forced a smile to her face. “Oh, that’s all right. But I—I really should get back to this. I got some appointments to enter.”

“Of course,” Peg said gently. “You let me know if you need anything.”

Nate arrived shortly after that, and she passed him the credit card she’d taken from one of Lancaster’s sales reps so he could update his outfit to match Lancaster’s expectations. She waited for him to return, but before he could, Janish, the hulking head of security, showed up with a message for Eliza to meet Mr. Lancaster in one of his private offices.

“Of course,” she said, balancing her tone between shy and eager. “I’ll just freshen up and—”

“No need,” Janish said. “Follow me, please.”

She made one more attempt, putting on her prettiest smile. “There’s no need to trouble yourself. I know where his office is.”

“Mr. Lancaster has a meeting in his penthouse office,” Janish said blandly. “He will meet you on the fourth floor. Come with me, please.”

And for the first time in years, she felt afraid. It surprised her—snuck up on her, like a... well, like a thief. She’d been on her own for so long, had relied on herself for so long, that it shouldn’t have been such a shock to return to a system where she had no backup. But since joining the team, she’d never really been alone on a job. They were always there on the comms, and barring that, she’d always been able to rely on...

She bent to retrieve her purse from under her desk, pausing just long enough to unplug the thumb drive and drop it inside. “Lead the way, Mr. Janish,” she said, smiling. She could handle being on her own. 

She had to.

He ushered her to the office at the end of the fourth floor hallway, where she waited quietly while he guarded the door. She pondered what Eliza would do if the con was up, and how she’d manage if she had to drop the front she’d built up. She pretended not to recognize Nate when he came to request her presence on Lancaster’s behalf.

And then Eliot was there, arriving just in time to save the day like he always did, and the con and the character and every other crisis melted away when she wrapped her arms around him and cried. 

***

“Ford, I have Parker. Come around to the front. Lancaster’s still inside with Spencer.”

J.B.’s voice came over Nate’s radio, and Sophie abandoned the side door they’d been watching and ran as quickly as her heels would let her toward the front of the building. “He has Parker,” she panted. “What about Eliot?”

Nate glanced at her as they ran, but he didn’t answer. All the relief and joy that had been twisting in her stomach fell back into a tangle of anxiety, and she paused to take off her shoes so she could go faster.

They weren’t going to lose him again. They couldn’t. If he was still inside, they would go get him.

They were bringing him home.

Hardison was waiting with Parker and J.B., who was deep in discussion with a police officer—the chief, judging by the golden stars embroidered on his sleeve. “Didn’t you hear what she said?” J.B. was saying, gesturing wildly at Parker. “We’ve still got a man inside, and Lancaster has a gun. We can’t just sit out here and do nothing.”

“I can’t send any of my men inside until the bomb squad arrives,” the chief answered.

“Come on, Vince,” J.B. said. “They’re just in the lobby. If you won’t go in, then at least let me.”

The chief shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. You’re a civilian now, Rimes. You’re not trained for this.”

“I’m trained for more than—”

“Let me do my job,” the chief interrupted. “I’m letting you stay on this side of the blockade for old time’s sake. Don’t make me regret it.”

He turned away, shouting orders for his men to keep the gathering crowd away from the building, and J.B. swore under his breath. Sophie glanced at the building, blinking in the glare of the mirrored windows. She couldn’t see inside, but if Eliot was just in the lobby…

“You said Lancaster has a gun?” Nate asked.

Parker nodded. “Eliot told me to get out. He promised he’d follow.”

“Normally I wouldn’t question that,” Hardison said, standing close to Parker. “But he’s not exactly operating at 100% right now. Without his memories—”

Parker spun to face him. “Without his what?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Sophie asked. 

“Tell me what?”

“He hit his head,” J.B. said. “Retrograde amnesia. He didn’t even know his name when I found him.”

“But...” Parker shook her head, frowning at Hardison, then Sophie, then Nate. “He knew me. He called me Parker.”

“I told him your name,” Nate said. “But he told me himself that he didn’t remember us.”

“He knew me,” Parker insisted. “He said he thought I was inside the LanCast building.”

“Wait.” J.B. gaped at her, then at the others, then back to her. “That was you?”

Nate’s eyes were back on the building, but he turned his head toward J.B. to explain. “Lancaster set a trap. He told Eliot that Parker was inside so he would go in after her.”

“Then...” A grin split J.B.’s face, so bright and unexpected that it warmed some of the chill in Sophie’s chest. “You’re alive!” he laughed. “And he knows it? He knows it was you?”

Parker opened her mouth, confused, and J.B. waved a hand to cut off her question. “He remembered someone important was inside,” he said. “Or—was supposed to be inside. He went back to look for you, but when I told him the news reported three bodies had been recovered, he—well, we both thought you were dead. It was—he was—” He shook his head and resettled his cap on his head. “I was worried about him. I’ve seen men lose their friends in combat, guys they were supposed to protect… I wasn’t sure he’d come through the loss. He may not have remembered your name, but he remembered you.”

“All of us,” Nate said quietly. “Not like Parker, but… he told me he’d dreamed about us. A part of him remembered.”

“And he promised you he’d make it out?” J.B. asked Parker. When she nodded, he smiled. “Then he will. After what he went through, he’s not going to give you all up again.”

Nate’s eyes flashed. “We’re not giving him up, either. Parker, Hardison—if Eliot’s hurt, we’ll need paramedics.”

“On it.”

Police and firefighters shouted orders over their sirens, but J.B.’s status apparently applied to them as well, because nobody made them back away. Hardison and Parker returned a few minutes later, dressed in paramedic uniforms.“I got the keys to an ambulance,” Parker said, panting. “We just need to—”

A single gunshot sounded from inside. They froze, and Sophie held her breath, waiting for the inevitable.

There was a low, metallic boom, and the windows in the upper floors shattered. People on the street behind them screamed, their voices joining the noise Sophie could barely hear over the pounding of her heart. Parker broke for the door, but J.B. caught her and held her back, and she didn’t even have time to fight him before a second explosion rocked the ground. Firefighters yelled at them to stay away, to get everyone back, to clear the area—and then a blast of fire and broken glass blew through the doors, and Sophie raised a hand to shield her face as the concussion knocked a wall of heat against them.

When she looked again, Eliot was sprawled face-down on the ground in front of the ruined doors, unmoving.

They were all running, then. Parker reached him first, falling at his side and brushing the glass from his back, shaking his shoulders. He didn’t react.

J.B. crouched beside her and turned him over. “Take his legs. I’ll get his—”

Hardison dropped at his side and pushed his hands away. He scooped one arm under Eliot’s knees and wrapped the other around his back, pulling him up against his chest as he stood. Sophie caught Eliot’s limp arm and tucked it across his stomach before Hardison turned away. Her face was wet again, and flames roared at her back. Nate dragged her away as firefighters swarmed the building.

Parker ran ahead to open the back door of their stolen ambulance, and J.B. jumped inside to help lift Eliot’s body—Eliot, a live, living Eliot, not his body—onto a waiting stretcher.

Sophie put her hand on Hardison’s empty arm. “It’s okay,” she said, because Hardison was shaking and she had to say something, even if she wasn’t sure she believed it. “He’s going to be okay.”

He dragged his sleeve over his face and took her hand, never once looking up from Eliot’s face.

“He’s breathing,” J.B. reported, his voice distracted. “Parker, hand me the BP cuff there—yeah, thanks. Help me get his sleeve rolled up.”

They worked silently for a few minutes, shuffling back and forth between the narrow aisle as they checked Eliot’s vitals. J.B. spent the majority of that time by Eliot’s head, shining a light into his eyes and feeling for injuries hidden beneath his hair.

“Ford,” J.B. said finally, leaning back and wiping his arm across his forehead. “I don’t know much about you folk, or about Spencer, but I assume you’d like to avoid a hospital stay?”

“That would be ideal,” Nate said. Sophie glanced at him; his voice was raspy, like he’d been inhaling the smoke pouring out of the building, and he wouldn’t look at her. She reached out with her free hand to take his.

“I can treat his leg at Sunny’s,” J.B. said. “And I don’t see any other injuries I couldn’t handle. But he needs a CT scan before I can be sure we can risk it.”

“How are we going to get a CT scan outside of a hospital?” Sophie asked.

Hardison squeezed her hand, inhaled, and let it go. “Leave that to me. Text me the address, I’ll meet you there. Parker?”

Parker vaulted out of the ambulance and threw a glance over her shoulder at them. “It’ll be okay,” she said, smiling. “He promised.”

Then she and Hardison ran around the side of the ambulance and were gone.

[trashboatprince]

Oh i just thought of a prompt idea! Aziraphale trying to write a book? Maybe under estimating how easy it would be?

Hahaha, the massive difference between reading something and writing something.

On with the fic!

--

"Angel!" Crowley shouted as he loudly threw open the doors to the bookshop. "You in? Cause I know you are, I can sense your 'goody-goody' angel essence here. Plus, you tend to call me when you're gonna take a little trip or do somethin' for Heaven."

He glanced around, there looked to be more dust than usual, and he could smell the unmistakable scent of forgotten tea cups. Bleh.

Which means that Aziraphale either found a new, ancient tome to pour over for days to make sure he reads every single thing, examines every damn, little detail. Or, he's bookbinding/repairing for a commission and completely forgot about everything else in the world, including answering his blasted phone.

Crowley rolled his eyes and headed right for Aziraphale's work space, and as he got closer, he seemed to pick up on a ticking sound. And a metallic ding, followed by some odd sound, then more ticking.

Gosh, that's a combo of noises Crowley hadn't heard in person in ages, mainly you heard it in movies or TV shows from bygone times. Or, when Aziraphale decided to pull it out of its case and use it because his ancient-as-anything computer just won't cut it.

Peeking into the work space, Crowley found a mess.

Papers everywhere, stacked into what had to be piles of organized chaos, or simply discarded, judging by some of the crumbled up paper balls. And there was Aziraphale, with several cups that may or may not contain mold, glaring as he rapidly typed away at a typewriter that had to be from the 1890s.

Aziraphale growled and yanked out the paper. "No, no! Terrible, all of those were incorrect for the scene! Fine, attempt number fifteen should be it..."

The typewriter suddenly had paper again and Aziraphale began typing away, muttering under his breath.

"Hell's teeth, angel, what's all this about?" Crowley asked, picking up one of the discarded papers. He looked at what was on it, and it seemed to be dialogue between two characters, though the conversation was very prissy, very Aziraphale-like.

Aziraphale squeaked and turned, blinking owlishly behind his little glasses. "Oh! Good... uhh... what time is it, dear?"

"It's 10 in the morning."

"Ah! Right, good morning! Dreadfully sorry, been a bit busy lately."

"I can see that." Crowley tossed the paper aside. "You writin' somethin'?"

Aziraphale looked excited. "I am! I decided that it's about time that I add to the literary world, and not just contribute to it through my reading!"

"So, you're trying to write a book." The demon picked up a few more pages. "This is why I haven't heard from you for over a week?"

"It's been over a week since we had brunch?" Aziraphale blinked. "Gosh, I seem to have been more into my work than I thought."

Crowley snorted, tossing the other papers aside into the mess. Then he stopped, and a big, toothy grin came to him. "Brunch! Oooh! This is why you're writing a book, isn't it? Cause I told you that it's a lot of work for good literature, after you complained about all those annoying books that 'popular' authors these days just churn out every two months! You were all 'It takes time and effort for memorable books, anyone who doesn't just want the next paycheck can do it'."

Aziraphale huffed and fixed his bowtie. "I stand by that, Crowley. And it's true, a love for writing and reading can create amazing stories. And I decided to prove my point!"

"From all this paper, and how pissed you looked when I came in, it's not going very well?"

"Well..." The angel coughed, looking away and back at the typewriter, "it is a work in progress, and not everyone can create a masterpiece on the first attempt! Besides, I think I'm onto something with my story, finally! Inspiration struck me and I've been on a roll, I just have to make sure I get everything right! I will not settle for anything less with this specific plot!"

"Uh huh. And what's it about?"

Aziraphale's cheeks pinked and he tugged at his vest. "W-well, it's a secret, I'm not ready to reveal the plot just yet!"

Crowley grabbed a random page off the pile next to him and cleared his throat. "'It would be the most magical of nights, if one excuses the pun, of course. A chance to show my skills to a real audience, on the West End of all places!' I think I can take a wild guess as to what this-"

The page was snatched from Crowley's hands and Aziraphale shoved it into his vest, hiding it from the demon. His face was red and he looked embarrassed. "It's a secret! No reading!"

Crowley chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine, I'll just have to wait for when it's finally released. You'll have to let me know when it's available, I'd just love to read it." He lowered his glasses to give the angel a wink before snatching up the forgotten tea cups.

"Now, how about we take a little break, Mr. Writer Man. We can do brunch again."

--

Aziraphale seems like the sort of writer who won't settle for anything less than perfect if he's gonna write something based on his life. And that magical night in 1941 must be correct!

[shamebats]

If anyone wants to see a different take on AI use in art by a professional artist who's personally using it for their work, I recommend this Reddit thread:

Text copied under read more:

"I've been a professional artist and illustrator for decades. Like most artists, I was concerned when AI image generators hit the scene. But since they sucked at first, I wasn't all that worried... but then they started to get much better, really fast. I figured I should look a bit closer to see if I should be worried.

What I found was that they really are a powerful tool if used creatively, but they are *nowhere near* a replacement for human artists. They don't understand context, they spit out a lot of garbage that needs a ton of work to refine into something useful, and you still need an artist's eye to know how to direct them to make anything that's actually good. This is why you see so many people complaining about all the bad AI art. Because there really is a lot of bad AI art out there. The good AI art? People don't even know it's AI in many cases.

But as an artist who has been around since before the days of computer art, I have had to adapt to many changes. I adapted to using a computer to make my illustrations to keep up with the times. I learned to use Photoshop. I learned to use Blender (although admittedly not very well). I see this as necessary in a world where technology is constantly evolving; you need to evolve and adapt with the tech, or you will get left behind. So naturally I looked into ways to use AI generators to help in my work flow.

I started out by using it to create textures. One thing I have always done is use a blend of photo textures in my digital paintings to create visual noise and interest. It's a great technique that's been around for years. Being able to generate my own textures with AI means that I can get exactly the texture I want, much quicker than looking through stock images or going out with a camera trying to find new textures.

As AI image generators improved, and as my prompt skills improved, I started using them to generate thumbnail images to work off of, and to generate models to use as reference, etc.

I have always been very open with my clients about my work flow, and I've never had a problem with that. If I have a client who is opposed to my use of AI, then I don't use it when working for that client. No big deal. I have some clients who actually prefer that I use AI in my work flow, as it helps smooth the process along, gives me more flexibility, and they believe that the end product can be better. Again, I'm happy to accommodate.

Well I had one such client hire me to do a book cover. They suggested I use AI to help because the cover included multiple human figures, and without AI I would have to get some very specific photo references which would cost a lot of time and money. The whole image was completely created by myself, a product of my own mind, but there were some AI elements remaining in the final image.

The client was very happy with the end result. The author of the book was especially excited. They shared it with their audience and they got a ton of positive feedback. No negative feedback at all. Just another job well done then, right?

Well, no. Apparently another artist who also does book covers decided to run it through AIorNot and it came back saying it was likely AI generated. Well, of course it did. If you so much as look at AI while creating an image, AIorNot will say that the whole thing was made by AI.

And often even if you don't.

It will say that my old abstract acrylic paintings are AI generated more often than not. That software is seriously flawed. But no matter, as in this case, I actually did use AI elements in the illustration, and my client was well aware of this. No big deal.

Well, no, it turns out that it *was* a big deal. This artist contacted the book's author who, apparently, had not been made aware that I would be using AI in my work flow on this piece. It turns out that this author is extremely anti-AI, not just for images, but in general. For him it is a moral issue, and anyone who uses AI is not fit to be employed.

My client, the publisher, explained to him that I made the image, but only used AI elements as part of the process, but the author wasn't having it. They refused not only to use the cover, but refused to allow me to paint a new cover without the AI elements in it. In fact they strongly pressured the publisher to cut off all ties with me. The publisher obviously wasn't going to do this, as they are very happy with the work I do. In fact they still paid me for the cover art, even though they can't use it now, because they loved the cover and I did the work they asked of me.

But still, the publisher had no choice but to pull the cover art.

The author put out a social media post about it, essentially accusing me of being dishonest. People are jumping on the bandwagon, calling me an art thief, telling him how morally superior he is, etc. It's a truly nauseating display. This is not a matter of creative differences to these people; it's about good vs. evil. And because I dared to try and stay relevant in a changing world, I apparently picked the side of evil. And there is no arguing with them about it being art theft. They have no idea how these generators work, and they don't actually want to know, or they wouldn't keep pushing that obvious falsehood.

I have reached the frightening conclusion that if AI generators don't put artists out of work, then they may very likely do it to themselves when the community implodes. The way I see it, you can either try to stay competitive, or you can choose to be a Luddite and fall behind, because AI image generators aren't going away. They simply aren't. And in a few years, only the zealots will remain, beating their drums in a small echo chamber where only other zealots will hear them, because everybody else will be over it and bored sick of the drama. In the meanwhile, they are only making it more difficult for artists to stay employed in this new world with AI generators, by punishing those who try to adapt!

Any artist who runs art through an AI image detector, which actually uses AI to operate, is committing extreme hypocrisy.

The irony is completely lost on them, that due to their panic about AI potentially putting artists out of work, they themselves are using AI to track down and punish artists by threatening their livelihood.

AI will put artists out of work, because artists are making it happen.

So now, my client is in a bit of a panic and adding a disclaimer that relevant covers are made with AI on all the Amazon links because, even though Amazon claims that no such disclaimer is needed in cases where AI is merely used as an assist, he is worried that people will complain about them, and they could lose their Amazon affiliate shop, which would be death to their company. So even the images that merely had a texture overlay somewhere on it now have to be labeled as being ENTIRELY GENERATED BY AI. Even though according to Amazon's own terms they were in full compliance already. And the issue there is that if an Amazon affiliate has too many products which are listed as made by AI, apparently (I'm not sure exactly) they get put in a different category or something. So even though Amazon claims that AI assistance and editing is fine in their rules, in actual practice it is not. You can't take that chance because of the witch hunt that is happening right now.

And I'm still perfectly happy to work with or without AI. I have done without it for many years. But my clients still want me to use it, because they also don't want to fall behind. So that puts me in a difficult position of feeling like I need to choose a side on an issue that I don't even think should be an issue in the first place.

TL/DR: AI image detectors, which use AI to function, are being used by artists to track down other artists and endanger their jobs. And I really hate this stupid war."

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

45 + boyf riends :)

So. i got super carried away with this one. like. this isn't even everything i wrote. i basically started rewriting everything from this point to jer waking up in the hospital. it's. not finished. i may just post it to ao3 when/if it is. BUT in the interest of finally answering this ask, here's as much as i could write to an ok-ish stopping point

45. realization of feelings at the Worst Possible Moment + boyf riends

"I'm going to improve your life, Jeremy! If I have to take over the entire student body to do it!"

Jeremy's phone clattered to the stage floor, his entire body seizing up as he followed it down. Shockwaves rippled through him like the worst case of pins and needles in the world as he tried to reach for his phone. He needed Michael, the only person that could drag him out of this mess. He knew Michael didn't have much reason to help him, but it was his only hope. His only chance at fixing what he'd so royally fucked up.

Jeremy's stiff limbs couldn't get him any further as he watched his phone screen go dark, the cropped New Year's selfie of him and Michael disappearing just like he’d disappeared from Michael's side. The darkness backstage started to swallow him until a piercing light flashed over him. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, but as quickly as it was gone, Jeremy felt the static start to clear from his heavy body and found he was being pulled up off the ground.

"Don't think you're supposed to be napping backstage, buddy." He felt his arm loop around something as he was hoisted to his feet. "Might miss your cue."

Jeremy blinked away the remaining static in his head and blearily looked up at his savior, eyes widening as recognition hit him like a stack of bricks. "Michael!"

He threw himself into a hug on sheer instinct, and any idea that Michael didn't want any part of him was quickly forgotten when he hugged back, squeezing him with just as much enthusiasm as ever. Jeremy would've stayed in that hug indefinitely if there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"How did you- you actually came for- what made you-" He abandoned all questions he had and pulled away with an excited laugh he didn’t know he was capable of anymore. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

Michael handed Jeremy’s phone back to him, wearing an easy smile that Jeremy had nearly forgotten. “I was just in the audience thinking, 'this is pretty good for a school play.' Then I was like,” he shook Jeremy’s shoulders for comical emphasis, “'this is way too good for a school play!' They've all been squipped, right?”

Jeremy blinked rapidly. "W-w-wait, you came to see me in The Play??" That tugged at his heart more than he expected it to. Even after blocking Michael out for so long, he still…

Michael reached into his hoodie pocket with a playful smirk. "Even brought my own refreshments." He pulled out a red soda and pointed it to the sky like it was an all powerful elixir. To Jeremy, it practically was.

"Is that-?!"

"Mountain Dew Red!" Michael poked Jeremy's arm with the top of the bottle. "Told you I did my research."

Jeremy had to remember to shower Michael with every ounce of praise in the world the moment there wasn’t a tyrannical computer meddling around inside his brain. "That's amazing! Give it to me!"

Michael suddenly pulled the bottle out of his reach. "Ah-buh-buh. No."

Dread ran down Jeremy's back like hot molasses. No? After bringing it to The Play?? "What?? But- I need it."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly looking about half as angry as Jeremy suspected he should’ve after all was said and done. The other half was a painful mix of betrayed and tired. He didn’t imagine the isolation had exactly been fun for Michael. "And I need an apology. I think that's in order. I mean, you treat me like I don't exist for weeks, then blow me off when I try to help you-"

Jeremy dropped his shoulders with a sigh, accepting that he’d been a bit hasty. An apology was the least Michael deserved. "Okyouknowwhat, you're right, I'm s-"

“Vocal Chords: Blocked”

The word got scrambled on Jeremy’s tongue. He brought his hands to his throat with wide eyes when further attempts to say sorry produced only silence. Shit, the SQUIP still had control over him! Of course it wouldn’t go down so easily!

Michael rolled his eyes hard. "Really? Is it that hard to say you’re sorry?"

"Y…” The tension in Jeremy’s throat thankfully subsided, but he knew Far Cry 3’s definition of insanity, and resigned to the fact that the apology had to be shelved for now. “Yes! Come on, man, this is important!"

"This is important to me!" Michael insisted. Of all the times he could’ve chosen to be stubborn…

"It's a word!"

"It's a gesture! Gestures matter!"

"It can wait a couple minutes!" Jeremy made a move for the bottle, but Michael still kept it above his head out of arm’s reach. Shit, if only he knew the full scope of what the SQUIP was doing.

"Kung Fu Fists: Activate"

Jeremy's body snapped into a stance he'd never taken, much like an idle character jerking into a fighting animation about as smoothly as you’d expect for a buggy video game. His speech felt much the same. Thoughts he’d never dare say out loud coming out in the worst way they could’ve been phrased.

"This is so you!" A punch that Jeremy didn't throw nearly connected to Michael's newly shocked face. "You love to feel superior," another punch that Michael narrowly avoided, "just because you eat eel on your sushi!" Yet another, "And listen to music on vinyl!" A successful kick to the side that caught Michael off guard, "And you don't care about being popular!"

The SQUIP had taken control of Jeremy’s body before, usually just to get him out of a room or something equally menial. To watch his own body attack Michael without his input while he was powerless to stop it was nothing short of horrific. And to hear such twisted sentiments falling out on his mouth was just as much. Michael’s easy indifference to a reputation that Jeremy had always cared so much about was a little annoying, yes, but this wasn’t the time nor the way that Jeremy wanted that dirty laundry to be aired out. Not when his sheer admiration for Michael outweighed that little smidge of underlying bitterness.

The weight of just how long it’d been since they last linked up started to press down on Jeremy. Two months of no AotD or weed or runs to 7-Eleven all caught up to him and hit him at once. Holy shit, he missed Michael so much. And to imagine a world where he didn’t have him? Where the SQUIP completely erased him from his life, for good? Jeremy couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let the SQUIP win. He loved Michael too much to watch him fade away again.

Wait. He loved Michael. Like. As something other than a best friend. As someone he didn't want to be apart from ever again if it could be helped, and he hoped it could be, considering the technological uprising in progress. He’d never paid much mind to the more… questionable thoughts he’d had of Michael and always just blamed it on hormones, or loneliness, or some resignation that no one else would ever date him so fantasies were the best he was gonna get. But… no. No, he wanted that stuff too. There was a bigger reason that the homophobic remarks of years past hurt as much as they did. Impulsive stoned desires of kissing Michael weren’t a sole product of being high; they hadn’t come out of nowhere.

Jeremy loved Michael. His humor, his charm, the upbeat energy that seemed to follow him everywhere - SQUIP happenings notwithstanding - there was a reason he’d felt so hollow after blocking his friend. He'd always known he loved Michael; they'd known each other pretty much their whole lives after all. He just hadn't known the wider scope of it until... shit, why did the world decide now was the time to give him this revelation?!

Michael caught Jeremy's foot out of the air, struggling against the second kick the SQUIP was trying to land since the first one had actually yielded results. "Of course I care!" He threw Jeremy's foot down, causing a stumble and forced repositioning. "I just know it's never gonna happen!"

Michael tried stuffing the soda back into his hoodie pocket, only being able to get it partially in before Jeremy pushed him into the wall with strength that wasn't his own. "So you resent me because I didn't give up like you did?" a scary voice sneered. 

Michael grabbed Jeremy's wrists and crossed his arms over his chest to give him less mobility and reach to fight him. Something painful flashed over his face. "No, I don't resent you! I'm jealous you try!"

"Well I'm jealous you don't!" The truth of the words scratched at Jeremy’s throat as he tried resisting whatever lie or petty jab the SQUIP wanted to twist out of him. The SQUIP tried thrashing Jeremy out of Michael’s grasp, but an overcalculation brought them both falling to the ground instead.

The Mountain Dew Red fell out of Michael's pocket with a dense thud, followed by a quiet hiss. A thick layer of pink foam began to form atop the meniscus of the soda as the bottle jerkily rolled a few feet away before coming back halfway to a wobbly halt.

Michael grunted in pain upon landing with Jeremy on top of him. "Then why are you hitting me?!"

"I'm not-" Jeremy’s fist veered just far enough left to miss Michael's shoulder and punch the stage floor instead – it hurt, and it was the most he'd been able to accomplish, "trying to!"

Michael managed to take hold of Jeremy’s wrists again. The SQUIP fought hard to keep control. Jeremy hoped that he could fight harder to take it back. "Well don't try harder!"

“It’s not me!” Jeremy choked out, the burning in his scraped knuckles getting drowned out by the one holding his body hostage. “It’s- my- SQUIP!”

He sloppily tore himself off of Michael, the pain of resisting the SQUIP’s actions strangling a raspy gasp out of him as he hit the stage floor. The friction prickled at his elbow as he tried to distance himself and keep from hurting Michael further. He couldn’t get very far before he was seized into place by the SQUIP’s electricity again, like when he’d tried calling Michael. Jeremy didn’t think he’d ever been in more pain, but he’d endure it if he didn’t have to watch himself fight his best friend.

Michael’s eyes widened in horror at the kind of power the SQUIP had, then darkened upon things becoming more personal than they already were. He’d never been fond of anyone that went out of their way to hurt Jeremy, and the SQUIP was clearly no exception. "It's. What?"

Unshed tears stung Jeremy’s eyes. He wondered if fire burned half as bad as this. He wondered if Rich knew. He wondered if he’d live through this and actually be able to tell Michael what he really meant to him. "It's taking over my body.” Jeremy tried pushing himself up, but his arms gave out beneath him. He felt like an elephant was standing on him. It was so hard to breathe. “You gotta help me! I'm sorry!"

[northwest-cryptid]

The future is now, and a lot of people really don't like it.

It's something I've noticed, I was born just before the turn of the century, and I grew up with a lot of talk about what the future would be like. Computers, the internet, technology itself was still fairly new at least to the everyday consumer. Sure my father had been programming for years, but cell phones were still bricks we had to carry around in our pocket. This isn't a put down, so please don't think I'm using Zoomer as a derogatory term or anything but; Zoomers may not really grasp the fact that our first cell phones were these really chunky bricks that had 2 toned small screens that literally could just make calls or play snake. Texting was a pain, you had to literally hit the same key multiple times to cycle through letters and then wait for it to move to the next slot if you needed a letter on the same key.

And yet, almost everyone around me, and everyone I spoke to online was excited about technology; about the future. Integration of tech into the daily lives of those around you was the coolest stuff you could see, we had classes in school that taught us not just how to type and use the computer, but also things like internet safety and even really basic stuff about how to program. We're talking about elementary school by the way, I was playing computer games in the lab and learning how to type properly, how to stay safe online; and in some cases even how to make games. It was uncommon for anyone even in middle school to own a cell phone, and if they did it was a Nokia. You had people who would swear by Apple products because "they made the iPod!" Which yea, you read that correctly; not the iPhone; the iPod. The iPhone was still just this sort of concept back in the day. The idea of a future where our phones could do more than play snake, send texts, and call people.

You had a lot of people online who made their own websites and were lamenting how easy the internet was becoming for "just any schmuck on the street" to use. It used to be a utopia for only the biggest nerds with their text based computer games and personal websites. However it was quickly becoming more and more accessible to the every-man and people were divided on whether or not that was a good thing. Some didn't care for the direction the internet was going, and others enjoyed the attention the internet and technology by proxy was finally getting.

With more people being able to use technology effectively, the demand for better and better tech was growing. At the time, the capitalistic nature of the industry was fine, it prompted companies to compete for the biggest and the best new stuff to show off. If you were going to spend your money on something; it really had to be quality made. This isn't just about cell phones and computers either, if you look back at how much advancement was made in game consoles back during the time of the Gamecube or Dreamcast eras, you'll see that no one in the console industry could stand by and make sales by just being a brand name. Everything from computer parts to gaming consoles to even software was becoming better, whether that meant faster; higher definition, or even just sometimes having bigger numbers. I mean hell the Nintendo 64 literally put the number in the name to tell you how big of a deal it was.

This was the golden age for technology, and I am genuinely sad that a lot of Zoomers never got to really experience it. We shit-talk Zoomers for growing up without tech literacy, or being iPad babies, but the truth is; they're not taught like we were. Most of the older Millennials, or gen Xers had a lot more understanding of tech because we either were literally raised on it, or we were making it. Zoomers never got to experience what it was like to know the what and why of new tech coming out. The market has become so taken over by capitalistic greed that no one is really happy about it.

We wanted a world where tech made people's lives easier, integration of tech into your daily life was meant to simplify things. Not to advertise 20 different products to you before you can request an uber to come pick you up just so it can ask you if you want to upgrade, only for your uber driver to be so distracted by their phone and the reek of marijuana that they can't drive safely. Which mind you, isn't to say phones or weed are necessarily bad, but hey don't drive under the influence you piece of shit, especially not with passengers; you make the rest of us look bad! Now I gotta go online and complain about this on social media, of course I'm talking about like, maybe one of five social media sites people actually use. Yes it's highly censored and what isn't censored by the people running the site is likely to be caught in the net of the social culture around the website, so of course I have to watch what I say and over explain myself. Then I think I'll reblog that post about how we're all explaining ourselves too much and being too nice and we're too afraid to speak our minds and we really need to stop doing that. Then I'll answer the anon hate I got for speaking my mind and trying to not over explain myself because the social culture net is so broad it encompasses significantly too many different kinds of people who won't see eye to eye...

My point with that whole paragraph is to say that even someone like me, who adores technology and wants it to progress and wants it to integrate more into my life; still doesn't agree with what has become of it. I think the worst part about it is that some of it is inescapable while other parts can be fixed but every time I say that I get yelled at for it. It's like people would rather believe they're trapped here than understand they still have a lot of power over the use of their technology. It's easier to accept the world around you when you don't feel like you could do anything, when you understand that you could do something rather than merely complain it creates a dilemma. Suddenly you know for a fact you could fix your problem, but that requires a certain amount of effort on your part. I've heard people tell me they can't learn to code in HTML for reasons branching from trauma to disabilities. Which is baffling because if you can literally make a text post on tumblr, or send me anon hate to yell at me about how you can't possibly learn HTML; you could easily type out HTML or copy paste it.

However I'm not here to point fingers, I'm here to say I've noticed that the places we can't escape from are getting more and more aggressive, and no one feels like we can do anything. It's rough, because I know if we did try to do something it would be a hell of a lot more effort than just getting people to figure out they could make their own websites if they don't like the ones they are on.

The majority of public transport, businesses, and restaurants have apps that require you to have a smart phone. I sit down and ask for a menu, I'm told there's a QR code on the table I can scan. I once told a waitress my phone couldn't scan QR codes and she made a big fuss about how they don't have physical menus anymore and she wasn't about to tell me what all they had as options. It was my fault for being too poor to afford a good enough phone. Something that was once considered a luxury is now a necessity to eat at an establishment. If you're curious, it was a waffle house. A fucking Waffle House decided to do away with their menus and opted for QR codes. Thankfully I've not seen this catching on with other Waffle Houses, but consider the target audience of a Waffle House. This isn't some fancy classy restaurant, this is a 24/7 diner where you stop in at 3 AM to eat some poorly cooked hash-browns and eggs that were made by a poor college student who isn't paid enough; and hope no one starts a fight because the only other two people in this place are drunk off their ass and getting a little loud with the waiter. When I asked the waitress for literally just hash-browns, a couple of eggs, and bacon; a typical breakfast you could get just about anywhere that serves, you know; breakfast. I was told that's not a menu item and that I'd need to order off the menu if I wanted to actually buy anything. We went back and forth for about 5 minutes and I was doing my best to be polite about the situation because I've worked food service before and I understand too well what it's like to just want a quiet, simple shift. Finally the manager came out, charged me about $7 and made me some food. When they told the waitress to leave me be I heard her remark "alright but they were being rude as fuck" as she walked off. Mind you the only thing I asked for was a menu, then some food; and then asked what the menu item most resembling my order would have been and to just charge me for that. As the waitress stood off in the corner of the Waffle House she literally pulled out her smart phone. Not once did she offer to just scan the QR code for me and help find an order closest to my request, or any such thing. The situation was simple in her mind, I didn't have access to their QR code menu, so I couldn't order anything; end of story.

For many if you take public transport and you need an app for it, your phone needs to be able to run that app. If it can't you're out of luck, it doesn't matter if you have the money for the bus, it doesn't matter if you could pay a taxi. You need to have the app on your phone to travel, you need to scan a QR code to eat, some apps will literally ask for your ID or driver's license, so that's fun. I've literally had apps ask me for my social security information. Yea, remember kids don't give out your personal information to anyone online... unless it's this fun app you use, because remember the guys at [business] are your friends! I know you may believe that they're a business and therefore they have to use your data responsibly, but the truth is that's just not how it works. The people working at Google, at Tumblr, at Uber, they're all just people; people like you and me. Except they have access to your cloud storage, they have access to everything you've ever posted, they have access to your location, they have access to any pictures you've taken that get automatically backed up to your phone with metadata that lists the exact place it was taken; yes that includes your nudes. "For your eyes only... and like all the google employees who see this, and that one creepy guy who screenshot it and shares it with his friends uwu"

Not to be a boomer, but back in my day we were literally taught internet safety in school; and a lot of people cared deeply about this sort of thing. They weren't so apathetic to it all just to get through the day, I hear people say "oh I don't care, I know they're watching, listening; they know everything about me, targeted ads are real; etc." Hell I've been there myself, it's hard to care about it all because it feels like it's everywhere. I understand you may not want to really concern yourself with it, but when you're aware of it you can actually take measures to prevent it where you can. That's literally WHY we were taught this shit in school.

Truth is, I still have those hopes of a future where tech is part of the daily life of those who want it. I love the idea of convenient apps and fun websites. I love the idea of tech advancing and everyone finding new ways to enjoy life. Things like Vtubers, VR/AR tech, video games, and yes even the good things about shit like cell phones, and smart devices. That's all great, but I want it without all the bullshit. I hate using AR tech and going "hi random Meta employee who's likely viewing my data, location, and possibly has random access to my cameras and what I'm running on my own personal tech!" People call me paranoid, they bitch at me for being cynical; and I can't blame them. I really can't, because I know I'd enjoy life a lot more if I didn't think like this, if I didn't know what I know. It's that age old saying that ignorance is bliss.

However, when I see things like the Old Web Movement, and I understand people are trying; they're fighting the good fight and I'm just sitting there? I can't do that. I have to do my part, I have to try as well; or else I have no right to complain, to want for better tech; safer tech, more private tech. I can't scream about something as simple as discord suddenly telling me about everything my friends are playing, or what they're watching in a server I'm not even a part of; unless I'm actively actually doing my part to spread awareness and fight against the violations of privacy that so many tech applications are imposing upon people. I have to speak up even if people hate me for it.

If I was alone on that front, I'd probably let it die; I'd just be some hermit living my own way and not even care. However when I see people trying to fight for others to make their own websites, to give that power back to the public. When I see people trying to teach others how to jailbreak their tech, how to fight back against the automation of data mining and AI stealing your every word to teach some multi-billion dollar waste of electricity. I have to do my part, because I was born just before the turn of the century; and while I'm sure people would tell me it's not that deep. I still dream of the future that was promised to me when I was young, and if I can't have it in my life time, I'll fight for Zoomers; and if they can't have it in theirs, I want them to be armed with the knowledge necessary to help the next generation.

[sonicasura]

Sonic/ Pokemon

WHO TURNED MY BASE INTO A RAVE!?!?!?

Ultra Beasts were strange creatures, they all were very, very similar too Pokemon yet completely different. The Ultra Beasts had the strange power to tear open Ultra Wormholes were ever they may be a jump right through them, to go and explore other worlds or in Xurkitree's case look for someone. That was what Xurkitree was currently doing as they were roaming a strange defunct base looking for a friend.

That friend was Trainer as Xurkitree had followed the Frontier Brain to this new world, wanting to be with there friend and see if Trainer was willing to let the Glowing Pokemon stay with them. Xurkitree had followed Trainer's energy signature to this world and detected that Trainer was near Xurkitree. This led Xurkitree to follow Trainer's scent all the way too a strange base that had a wierd insignia of someones face plastered all over. Though Xurkitree didn't care much about the who the base belonged too and just broke or zapped whatever was in there way

Afterall they were here for Trainer

Which after a bit more exploring they had found Trainer, rumaging through some scrap metal and spare parts. The reason Trainer was doing this was for the robots on Scrapnik Island, as they need some fresh parts to countinue building the machines that were need for a automatic gardening tool. Xurkitree decided to surprise Trainer and lifted them up and started tickling them to greet them.

After a couple minutes of tickling and laughter, Xurkitree stopped and put Trainer back on the ground to let them get a proper look at Xurkitree.

Trainer: Splashin' Magikarp, Xurkitree I never expected too see you here. Not that I mind that you came too visit me Xurkitree, but why follow me all the way too this world just for a visit?

" Xurkit Xur Xur Kitree"

Trainer: You want too be apart of my team, that's awesome Xurkitree. I would absolutely love you joining the others and I, Raichu and Hoopa would be super excited that you are joining us Xurkitree.

The conversation went on for a bit longer before Trainer told Xurkitree that Trainer need too get a couple more parts and then they both can leave. However Xurkitree in there curiosity went up too an old computer terminal while Trainer collected the rest of the parts and plugged there wires into the computer. When Trainer turned around after collecting the final part, Trainer was just in time too see Xurkitree begin there Magnum Opis. A few seconds later the lights of the base turned on and started flashing a whole assortment of different colors like a disco ball.

At Eggman's Lair

Dr. Starline: DR. EGGMAN, ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR OLD BASES JUST CAME BACK ONLINE!!!

Eggman who was working on his new secret weapon the Metal Virus, let out an angry growl before turning too face Starline.

Eggman: I swear if it's Sonic messing up another one of my bases I will send the entire Egg Fleet to blast them into oblivion. They already mess up my good bases but know are try too pilfer my genius creations!!! Orbot!!! Cubot!!! Bring up visuals immediately, so I know who I'm about to obliterate.

Eggman walked over too his giant computer screan and was joined by Dr. Starline who wanted too see who the intruder was. What they were greeted with Trainer and Xurkitree out in the courtyard who were currently laughing themselves too tears as Rotomdex was recording something just out of view of the camera.

Eggman was both shocked and interested at Trainer being there and there new Pokemon, along with Dr. Starline. Eggman commanded Orbot to switch too another video feed too see what both Xurkitree and Trainer were laughing at

No one was prepared for this

A disco rave and all the Eggpons dancing in perfect sync with each other. All done by Xurkitree as when they plugged themselves into the system they took control of all the left over Eggpons and well here we are

It took Eggman and everyone a minute too process before Eggman broke the silence with a big shout

Eggman: THEY TURNED MY BASE INTO A RAVE!!!!

It was definitely an interesting day for everyone

Trainer absolutely shared the footage with Sonic and it quickly spread throughout the hedgehog's friend group. If the video somehow spread further out then the youth wasn't responsible. Also Xurkitree would turn an Eggman base into a rave.

They're a chaotic mischief maker alright.

*Just got the missing GIF ask so here you go!'

[blckbarbiedoll]

Ghost Of You (M.B.)-Chapter 27

F2F

CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT (oral sex, f receiving, p in v sex)

2021-Chicago, Illinois

"Hey, Angie."

She looked up from her computer and smiled at her coworker. "Hi, Charlie."

"I brought you a coffee." He set the white cup down on her desk.

"Oh, thanks."

"Hey, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab dinner tonight?"

"Dinner? Like a...like a date?"

"I mean, not unless you want it to be."

"I just haven't been on a date in a while."

"Yeah, of course. I totally get it."

"That wasn't a no."

"It wasn't?"

"No."

"Then in that case, does seven o'clock work?"

"Seven is perfect."

"Great. It's a date."

She grinned as he walked away.

🤍

Angie stared at herself in her full body mirror. She was smoothing her red dress when Sophia walked into her room.

"You're so pretty, Mommy."

Angie smiled and knelt down to her daughter's level. "Thank you, baby. You're pretty too."

"Not like you."

"But you look just like me. So that means you have to be pretty."

"Uncle Neil says I look like Daddy."

"Uncle Neil's kinda right. You have your daddy's ears."

"Is that good?"

"Mhm. He has cute ears. And so do you."

The knock on the door caused Sophia to light up with excitement. She ran out of the room and reached up to unlock the door.

"Hey, princess."

"Daddy!" She jumped into his arms and squeezed him. "I missed you!"

"You saw me two days ago."

"I still missed you."

"I missed you too."

"I know it's only Tuesday, but thank you for taking her." Angie came out of the room and set Sophia's bag down on the couch.

"Of course. I'll take her whenever." He looked over to Angie and froze. "Woah."

"What?"

"You look-"

"She looks pretty!" Their daughter chimed in.

"That's an understatement."

"Thank you."

"Where ya going?" He set the girl down as he began to question Angie.

"A friend asked me to dinner."

"She's going on a date."

"What?"

"It's not a date."

"This friend? It's a guy?"

"Yes."

"That's a date."

"No it's not."

"No guy asks a woman like you out to dinner for just the food."

"I'm not doing this right now." She sighed. "Soph, go make sure you got all the toys you wanna bring."

She ran into her room while Angie walked into her own. Michael followed her as she sprayed perfume on her body.

"Hey, can we talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"I don't know if I want you going out with some guy."

"You jealous?"

"You're still my wife, Angie. 'Course I am."

She tried to hide her smile as Sophia ran in between them.

"I got all my toys!"

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow, sweetie." Angie kissed Sophia's cheek before slipping her heels on.

"Ange."

"I really gotta go." She grabbed her purse and walked towards the front door. "Let's talk later."

"Hey, just be careful."

"I'll be fine."

🤍

It was dark and quiet when Angie texted for Michael to come to the door. The once warm summer air had chilled as the day turned into night.

Mikey opened the door with a yawn as he scratched his grown out dark hair. His sweatpants hung low on his hips while his chest was on full display.

"What're you doing here?"

"Hey. I just came to get Soph."

"I thought she was spending the night?"

"Dinner ended early, so I thought I'd take her off your hands."

"It's ten o'clock. She's asleep."

"Oh." Angie sighed. "Did I wake you?"

"A little bit."

"Sorry."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll just go home."

"I'm up now. You might as well come in."

She sighed as she walked past him and headed into the living room. "Thanks."

He sat next to her on the couch and leaned against the arm. "Dinner ended early?"

"Mhm."

"At ten?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"What, he stand you up or something?"

"I wish."

"That bad, huh?"

"You know when you try something new, and you think it's gonna be amazing, and then it sucks?"

"Yeah."

"That's what tonight was like."

His lips slowly grew into a smirk and he began to chuckle. "Holy shit."

"What?"

"He was a bad lay."

"Oh my god." She hid her face in her hands and groaned.

"Jesus Christ, Ange. Don't tell me you left in the middle of it."

"No. I left right after."

"Wow."

"It was so bad, Mikey. And I wasn't even that attracted to him."

"So why'd you go out with him?"

"I don't know. I figured...it was time to move on."

"Why'd you think that?"

"I mean, we weren't exactly making progress to get back together."

"You told me you weren't ready. So, I waited."

"Really?"

"I meant what I said, Angie." He cupped her face and softly stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I wanna be a family again. I still love you."

She leaned in and held him tightly, taking in the scent of cigarettes and the cologne she had bought him years ago. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her in as close as he could.

"I love you too. I never stopped."

"I know you have no reason to take me back, but I'm gonna try everyday until you do." He whispered into her ear. "I'm gonna do everything I can to prove to you that I can be the man you need me to be."

Angie held his clean shaven face and pushed their lips together for the first time in over a year. His fingers crept up to the top of her dress and slowly pulled down the zipper. Mikey waited for any signs of hesitation from her, but only received encouragement. He gently pushed her back on the couch and began to kiss her neck.

She kicked her heels off as he moved down her body, bunching her dress up around her waist. Mikey lifted her hips up and pulled her red lace panties down her legs.

"I thought you only wore these for me?"

"He didn't even deserve them."

"Damn right he didn't." He placed her legs over his shoulders and pressed his lips to her thighs. "I'm the only one who knows how to take care of you, huh?"

"Mhm. Only you."

Mikey softly kissed around her clit before licking a thick stripe up her center. Angie dug her fingers into his hair for stability.

"I missed how good you taste."

"Oh my god." Angie tugged on his hair as she threw her head back against the cushions. The way he sucked on her clit caused her to gasp. "Fuck, don't stop."

"Yeah? It feels good, baby?"

"Yes." She turned her head to groan into the pillow. "So good."

Mikey moved his head up and down, pushing her cunt harder against his face, if that was even possible. The bump of his nose rubbed against her clit, causing her to arch her back off of the couch.

"You close, baby?" He mumbled against her. She nodded, holding his head still against her pussy. "Yeah? You gonna cum on my face?"

"Oh my god." Angie placed her hand over her mouth, trying to not wake her sleeping daughter and mother in law upstairs.

He kissed her sensitive core as she came down from her high. Mikey pulled back to catch his breath. As he sat on his knees on the floor, Angie pulled her dress over her head, tossing it before kneeling down to kiss him again. Mikey placed his hands under the thighs and lifted her onto his lap.

"You're so beautiful." He ran his hands over her bare skin. "My pretty girl."

His words in her ear sent shivers down her spine. "I need you, baby."

"I need you too." He whispered against her lips. "So fucking badly." He reached down to untie his sweatpants.

After removing the remaining clothes separating them, She leaned forward, pushing him back against the floor. Mikey grabbed her hips, positioning her dripping entrance over his hardened length.

"Oh my god." Angie gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders as she slowly sank down onto him.

"Fuck. Oh, I missed you." He softly gripped her neck, bringing her down to kiss him.

"Shit." She pressed her bare chest against his as she continued to move her hips. "So good, baby. So good."

"You look so pretty for me. Still taking me so well after all this time."

"I love you." She wined. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby." He held the back of her head before flipping her onto the floor so he could hover above her. "You look pretty like this too." He placed his forearms on the carpeted floor as his thrusts started again.

"Oh, fuck." She gasped, holding onto his biceps.

"That's what you needed, huh? You just needed me to make you feel good."

"God, yes."

"That other guy doesn't know how to touch you, does he?"

"No." She whined.

"That's right. I'm the only one who can make you feel like this."

"Oh my god." Her nails dugs into the flesh of his arms. "Don't fucking stop."

"Shit." He groaned. "You're gonna make me cum, honey." Mikey's fingers trailed down her body until he reached her clit. He began to circle it using the same pace as his thrusts.

"I'm so close." She breathed out.

"I know, baby, I know. You gonna cum for me?"

She nodded, unable to speak from the pleasure he was giving her. Angie sunk her teeth into her lip, trying to silence her loud cry as she came. Michael buried his face in her neck to muffle his noises.

"Oh my god." She whispered.

"Fuck." Michael breathlessly said as he softly kissed her shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He tilted her head up so that he could kiss her gently. The couple remained in each other's embrace as they caught their breaths.

[sincerely-sofie]

The finishing of this fanfic has left me with some pretty mixed emotions. On the one hand, I dont want it to end. It's such an incredible piece of work and even though I finally committed to reading it a few weeks ago, it already feels like such a significant part of my life. On the other hand, I'm a little glad that it's over. FAR from the sense it was bad (I'll steal your liver if thats how you interpret it) but moreso in the sense that it was like a good crying session. It's something that a lot of us (or I assume a lot of us) typically want to avoid even though we know its good for us, and satisfying after the fact. It's like catharsis in a way. Endings aren't always a great feeling in the moment, but it's something that we can look back on with a fondness.

I'm so glad I found this work. I'm being completely serious when I say that this fanfic, and the other content you make, has changed my life for the better. Its helped me reconnect with that love I have for creativity after nearly a decade of not making anything even though I wanted to. It's helped pulled me out of a few ruts of depression. It's helped me realize that I'm not actually emotionally stunted (per my own conclusions) and be more willing to cry instead of burying those feelings. In the past I would just, kill these kinda thoughts before they got far because of how much I wanted to avoid crying. Much less actually writing them down, or express them to someone else. But now, I've been crying the whole time I write this, and for the first time in, I think ever, I'm okay with that. I know we don't actually know each other, but you've genuinely helped me become a better person with the things you make. Thank you so much for everything you've done Sofie. hey look! I got your name right!

But enough about me. I feel like it's getting indulgent at this point. (I've gotten dehydrated with how much ive cried writing this and from what I can tell, you cry a lot more than I do. So go drink some water first, and then) I wanna hear your thoughts. What are your thoughts and feelings about your work being finished? Do you have plans to take a break from creative endevors for a while, or are you gonna keep going? Are you going to be expanding more on this and other au's, different fanworks or move into something completely your own? Whatever the case may be, I'm excited to see what more you are going to come up with!

From the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of everyone else, Thank you for everything.

It's so surreal to have posted that final chapter. I finished the first draft almost 100 days ago exactly, and I spent a number of days after completing it kind of adrift. I'd go to my computer every morning like I had during the month prior and sit down, ready to write, only to remember that I was actually supposed to be taking a break before I made the final edits.  It didn't click in my head that I had actually done it… until a couple weeks later when it hit me like a truck that I had an entire completed manuscript sitting in my Google Docs. I think I was making myself lunch at that moment, and I had to bolt to lie down on the floor and put my legs up against the wall because I was ready to pass out at the realization. 

This feels pretty similar. For me, The Present is a Gift— the main fanfic, at least— was finished in mid-January. But the process of uploading it and agonizing over what people thought of every passing update wouldn't be formally done until about 3 months later. It still hasn't clicked in my head that I won't be posting a new update once Tuesday rolls around. 

On the subject of taking a break— I've actually been taking a break, at least partway! I've barely written anything after I finished TPiaG's first draft, and I haven't drawn much “serious” art, for lack of a better word, since I started my blog. I've still been making things, yes, but scattered oneshots and sketchy pieces without solid lineart are not my typical fare. I'm usually a lot more “exact” with what I make— words fail me here— I hope I'm not being too vague! I might take a brief break as I finish up the winter semester, but that would be less a break from creating and more of an “OH MY WORD I NEED TO FOCUS ON NOTHING BUT PASSING THESE COURSES” kinda thing. 

TPiaG (along with its derivative AUs) is still very much a living project to me— there's a lot more stories the characters have in them, even if I struggle to envision a full-on sequel. I'm absolutely going to answer the asks relating to it that I've received over the months along with any I continue to receive, and if I get any ideas for comics or oneshots here and there, I'll make them. As for what's officially next up on the Sincerely Sofie menu, I'm planning to make a visual novel that's a lot more meaty than the last one I made. I'm not sure if it will be original or based on TPiaG— but a visual novel is the medium I'm planning on! 

I'm so overwhelmed by your kindness. I truly don't have any words. This project started off as something private to help distract me from a depressive episode and to process trauma, and it's become so much more. I'm so glad it was able to help you. Catharsis was the keyword for TPiaG— I wanted it to uproot difficult emotions and help people start to heal from them, but I never dreamed it would really help anyone but myself. So to hear it was able to provide you with that is unbelievably meaningful to me. 

I gave myself the goal somewhat recently to let myself cry whenever the urge strikes me. I used to go months without crying, and whenever I did shed tears, it was alone in my room while muffling the few sounds I accidentally let slip. I'm a natural crybaby, but I had schooled myself into thinking for a number of reasons that it was bad to cry— that it was selfish, or attention-seeking, or weak— so I've been trying to reclaim my teary-eyed identity. It's been difficult, but it's so freeing to let myself feel things fully. All of this is to say: let the tears fall. I've helped more people by crying than my stoicism ever did. 

Thanks again. I can't properly word my gratitude, but know that it's overwhelming :,>

[pof203]

A Summoner Birthday

Special Quest: Kyuma

This place is awesome, Lupin! I feels like a dream.

Well, this is a world in a computer. But it's still breathtaking. Even David's enjoying himself.

You brought Kyuma and David to the virtual fairytale world for some fun.

Kyuma: I heard about how you guys fought some dragons in that castle you were sleeping in. I'd like to see that, too.

Lupin: Okay. Let's go there.

Kyuma: (happy) Thanks. Let's get changed first.

So, you, Kyuma, and David go to Arachne's shop before going to the castle of the sleeping beauty.

Wow! This really looks like a fairytale castle. And I really like the clothes Arachne gave us. Mine's look just like the ones we wore at Valentines.

Lupin: (in princely regalia) She had a feeling you'd like it. Now come on, let's have a look around.

David moves around happily as if to say he's eager to see the castle as well.

You, Kyuma, and David look around the castle. Suddenly, you find some rouge wyverns flying around.

Kyuma: (readying his sword) I don't think they're happy to see us.

Lupin: (sword also at the ready) Well, this castle is pretty much their home. We just sort of walked in unannounced.

The wyverns all fly at you to attack.

After an almost long battle, the wyverns finally see you mean them no harm and let you into the castle.

Thanks! Sorry for just barging in!

Lupin: Don't worry, we won't be any trouble! Now come on, let's see the rest of the castle.

Kyuma: Okay.

David also seems to agree.

So, you, Kyuma, and David go into the castle to see what else is in there. After looking around, you find a place in the castle you never knew about.

Lupin: (surprised) Wow! I never knew about this place.

Kurogane's voice: It's new. I added it in case you want to see the castle again. You can even go swimming in it if you like.

Kyuma: I don't see why not. How about it, David?

David nods with excitement.

Lupin: I could use a dip. Let's go.

A little later, you and Kyuma get changed and go into the water.

Ahh! The water's great. Kurogane really outdid himself this time. What do you think, Kyuma, David?

Oh! Right. I guess it's nice.

Lupin: Is something wrong?

You notice that Kyuma looks jittery with David trying to comfort him.

Kyuma: Sorry. It's just... I think this is such a nice place. You and Wakan Tanka would love it.

Lupin: Yes, it would.

Kyuma: So... Why ask me to come here? You could have asked Wakan or the others to come here. But why just me and David?

You, wanting to assure him, goes to Kyuma and put your hands on his shoulders and therefore, David's arms.

Lupin: Because you are just as special to me, Wakan and the others just as we are special to you. I want you to know that. We all love you and want us all to be together. Though Wakan and I love each other the most, that doesn't mean we love you less.

Kyuma: Even though I'm almost always benched at every game?

Lupin: Even that.

Kyuma: I... I guess. Whenever I see you, Wakan, and the others, I just feel so happy. Not being able to play in games much doesn't seem that bad. Knowing that you all believe in me just warms my heart. It's a feeling I don't ever want to stop feeling. And I know David feels it, too.

David nods in agreement knowing that you and Kyuma love him, too.

In that moment, you three come close together, knowing that the future will be a happy when with this wamrth.

After enjoying the spring a little longer, you three get changed and begin to make your way back to Candyland to return home.

[sege-h]

Thoughts on the State of Play reveal

Under a readmore just in case

1- I know I said I'd keep the Son*dow tag blocked for a bit after Prime ended but I think I'll keep it blocked till the end of the year now lmao

2- I know the rumor has been going around since yesterday but I took it with a grain of salt since it's. Yknow. A rumor. But even when I let myself think 'what if its real tho' this is SO FAR FROM WHAT I EXPECTED. A!!! I thought at most we'd get is a remaster that'd also make Shadow playable! As soon as I saw the new level I was like WAIT WHAT. WAIT WHAT!!?!? and it just kept going from there!!!

I'm so happy we'll be getting a HD biolizard fight! He'll no longer be contained to the 3DS! Also from what little we saw Shadow will get to have some dynamic posing in the boss fights, like Super Sonic did in Frontiers. Good! I loved those!

3- Ian Flynn has #KnowingSmile'd the announcement and I'm hoping this means he got to write for whatever new content there is.

And speaking of Frontiers! I'm hoping that this ends up being Shadow's 'Frontiers' moment. In that his writing and character get what Amy's, Tails', and Knuckles' did in Frontiers.

4-I had the stream off to the side in another tab since I wasn't interested in most of what was shown. And then I heard the first few notes of the Generations music and i immediately switched tabs and I just!!! Feel like I did in 2011 except my computer/internet is way better, and you tube is shittier!

5- I'm excited for this for such Me reasons. For those new here- I live in a country that had no Sonic stuff for...well, never, really. Not until about 2022. The second movie did what I'd hoped the first movie would do (but then the pandemic happened) and brought over Sonic stuff here. For the first time in my life I went to a toy store here and it had Sonic stuff. I got to buy physical Sonic comics for the first time. For the first time in my life I can go to a video game store and actually see Sonic games there. It's been wild

That being said, 2011 had Nothing. Sonic Generations came out. And I didn't want to pirate it because a friend of mine had worked on it. I was determined to find it. And I only saw it irl one time- for the Playstation. A console I've never had. It was pretty upsetting! I remember posting about it here even....I've been on tumblr too long SHDGSHDHS

Later I'd find that there was a 3DS version. I have that! So I looked for that version of it alongside the PC one

So, for almost a decade, I looked, to no avail. And for this whole time I refused to look at any playthroughs! Any knowledge I had on whats in the game came from the trailers we saw

And then in 2019 my best friend helped me buy the 3DS version. I had 9 dollars on my 3DS and whenever the game went on sale it'd be on for 10 dollars. So he gave me a dollar and helped me get it SHDGSHDH

So I finally experienced Generations! It was surprise after surprise in that one, because I knew it was different but I didn't know how. I didn't expect a Rush level in it, or for the Biolizard to be in there!

And then in late 2020 when I got my new computer and could finally get steam, another close friend got me Generations for the PC! I'd somehow managed to dodge spoilers on it all those years so all I knew about it was: Theres Green Hill, Chemical Plant, City Escape, and a Silver boss fight.

I got to play modern City Escape for myself- which is the level that inspired the current iteration of my main OC, Storm. It was a joy

All this rambling to say...it's wild to think that once this remaster comes out, I'll be able to get it day 1, at least I hope I will. Still-it won't take me almost a decade to get to it

And if there's a physical release? I'll be able to go to a store here- HERE, not in one of our neighboring countries, not from somewhere else, but in a store here. Right across the street. And I'll finally have a physical copy of Generations. That was my final goal with the game-- I love it, I have two versions of it! And the plan was always that even though I'd gotten to play them now, if I ever ran into a physical copy of the game, I'd buy it. And now I'll really get to do it

6- Bonus thought of me being silly: Wowow my OC was shown at the State of Play--

[gingersnappish]

Hi! I just want to say I absolutely adore your art, and I'm so excited to see your new stuff! Particularly anything Kylo Amidala related, it's my favourite au/concept of mine and I love seeing different artists takes on it!

I was just wondering if you had any advice for new artists? I want to be good at drawing but I get so discouraged when things don't come out how I envisioned.

Also, could I ask what you use to draw your art? Is it a digital setup you have? Would you have any recommendations on things to get?

Sorry to ask you so many questions, so please feel free to ignore this! I hope you have a lovely day, and thank you so much for all your wonderful contributions to the kylux fandom ❤

Thank you so much, Anon, for this lovely missive! It was such a warm feeling to find it in my inbox and brought a smile to my face! I love Kylo Amidala more and more the longer I'm in kylux fandom-honestly I wasn't sure if he was my 'thing' or not at first, years back, and then the more I saw takes on him in art and writing and fandom in general, the more he grew on me :) He allows for so much fashion fun and character creativity-like you said, it's really fun to see everyone's 'take' on him! Part of the reason it's taken me this long to respond is that I read what you asked about starting out with art and related hardcore! The thing where you got the vision but it can feel discouraging when stuff doesn't come out finished like it looked in your head? That was me for like- a couple decades. Still me on certain days. Like, MOOD, my friend! The good news is: every artists struggles with the above problem. So you are not alone! I guess in a sense, the bad news is also: 'everyone from beginners to seasoned professionals ' struggle with this....so yeah, it doesn't ever *entirely* go away? BUT! Better news: There have been a lot of 'takes' written and a lot of good advice given about how to mentally manage the 'it doesn't come out how I wanted' phenomenon! It's not so much 'make it go away' as it is 'learn to manage that phenomenon in a healthy, painless, productive way'. And that is a learnable skill that gets *a lot* easier with practice!

Also: I hoard tutorials/drawing resources for all levels/YT channels/'how to think about and approach art meta'/etc like a dragon hoards gems, so I'm putting together a post of resource links that might help or give you some starting points--that is taking a hot minute to craft though, so I figured I should just go ahead and respond here today and then post the resources list as soon as I get it finished (so you don't feel like your ask just went into the void)! Re: What I use to draw....time was, that would have been a whole post to itself on traditional materials and comparing computer programs and such. These days it's real straightforward: Procreate on an iPad :) I'm entirely digital these days but my honest opinion is that everyone is drawn to different materials and media and you should feel free to try out working in whatever interests you, whether that is digital art tools, or traditional media like acrylic or ink or something else! Also: making lots of drawings and practicing with what is cheap and available will get you farther,faster than any expensive supplies when you are starting out. Ballpoint pens and a pad from the Dollar Store (or equivalent where you are) are perfectly serviceable for practicing-plus sometimes I personally find I relax and have more fun experimenting and less angst if things don't come out how I wanted if I'm not working with something 'precious'. Case in point: I have custom-leather-worked sketchbook made by a friend sitting up in the office, being exquisitely beautiful and gathering dust. It is empty but for a single drawing, that I became unsatisfied with the day after I finished it. I got that sketchbook 7 years or more ago and I'm still trying to convince myself to use it properly. In contrast, last summer we went to the beach near our house and while we were there I ended up with access to cheap kiddie art supplies from a summer 'communal stash'-a blank sketchbook of the lowest quality paper and 10 colors of crayola pencils, half sharpened. It was a 'throw away', didn't matter what was done in that book-there were 10 more like it in the pile. I ended up doing a bunch of messy stuff born of people-watching and seagull-antics-observation. Filled 5 pages, both sides, and felt incredible joy in the making of shitty scribbles! And then I just put the book back in the 'communal stash' at the end of the day, since there were still a bunch of blank pages left. It was low-pressure and extremely freeing. (side note: when we went back a week later, the other sketchbooks were gone but that one I'd messed around in had more doodles from artists of all ages and beginning skill levels. And more the week after that. I think it turned out to be pretty freeing for a lot of people.) OK, this turned into a way longer response than I intended-boy, can I 'talk'! I hope you have a good day! Wishing you lots of positive creative vibes!

[thompsborn]

ooh ooh!! if it’s not too late: could i get a quick backstory on why the Gang is majoring in what they’re majoring in?

YES ABSOLUTELY OH MY GOD !!!

okay so peter has already stated what he intends to major in. it was in chapter four when he was talking to harry:

Harry’s brows quirk up, just slightly. “Oh, really? What are you planning to major in?” The question makes Peter perk up—these prerequisites are soul sucking, but he can’t lie, he’s excited to eventually make it back into a lab again. “Biochemistry, physics, and chemical engineering,” he says. Then, more as an afterthought, feeling that bubble of energy that he used to get when making a new discovery in the labs at the tower, or coming up with ideas with Ned, he adds, “I’ve also considered mechanical engineering and doing a chemical physics degree instead of separate physics and chemical engineering, but the more I looked into it, the more it seemed like a good idea to do the individual programs first, and then maybe come back one day for chemical physics in the future, you know?”

i picked these degrees because 1. when looking into them, they just felt like what mcu peter would be most interested in, but also 2. the main majors that peter tends to have in the comics is biophysics, bioengineering, and photo journalism, and since photography isn't as big a thing for this version of peter, the other two felt more fitting, but i thought regular physics better suited mcu peter. and then chemical engineering, while often connected to like industrial chemical plants, is basically the development of products through chemical processes. which is like. literally peter making his spidey webs lol.

i haven't officially stated any of the other characters majors in the fic yet so just to be safe i'm going to put theirs under the cut and use the spoilers tag for this post in case anyone wants to wait until it's brought up in the series! (warning: harry's answer is Very Long)

harley's was obviously going to be connected to engineering in some way, that's just like. very obvious in my head for any version of harley that's based on canon and not a total au. specifically, though, i see harley more of like mechanical engineering. while i see peter as more about the chemicals (even though he would also be good at mechanical engineering, esp considering in homecoming it's mentioned that he used to be in the robotics club) i see harley as more like a bot builder, a tinkering kind of dude. kinda like tony. mechanic, you know? i pretty much feel like every version of harley i've written would major in mechanical engineering.

though on my alt ao3 babyloveparkner i have a fic with harley majoring in mechanical and aerospace engineering, electrical and computer engineering, and minoring in chemical and biomolecular engineering, so like... i think mechanical engineering fits him best but i could see him double majoring in something else.

for homeward bound harley specifically? as of now, where we're at in the first fic, he's planning to major in just mechanical engineering, but as the series continues he may become open minded to doing a double major or minoring in something as well. i can definitely see hb harley getting attached to electrical and computer engineering. i haven't decided yet for sure if he'll actually add something else but at the very least he'll consider it at some point.

gwen was kind of hard to decide tbh? because like canonically she is also a stem major, in the comics she specifically majors in biochemistry, but like. idk i wanted to keep her stem and an absolute genius but i wanted to try a slightly different approach.

currently in the fic she's technically undecided other than knowing she wants to go into stem, but as the series progresses she's going to find a passion for criminal justice and forensic science. i may also have her double up with something else, maybe she'll still also get a biochemical degree as well, but with her being involved in peter's investigation and her dad being a cop i can just really easily see her wanting to combine her love of analysis and science with a passion for solving things and helping people. specifically for hb gwen!!

harry was the hardest to figure out because no matter how much i have looked i have not been able to find a single confirmed major for him in any version of canon. like he's also incredibly smart in most versions of canon, especially the most recent game where he's shown to be as nerdy as peter (even though he also states that peter is the smart one out of the two of them) so it's like...

it's really hard because obviously homeward bound harry is VERY different from any version of canon harry, which was done very intentionally because of the fact that in no way home norman mentions the fact that oscorp doesn't exist (which is why i made it so norman exists in hb but that he tried starting up his business during the five years between snaps and in the same industries as stark industries so, while oscorp does exist, it isn't a huge skyscraper like it usually is, which is why raimiverse norman wasn't able to find it and assumed it didn't exist at all) and then norman says "my son..." with this pained expression on his face, basically implying that harry doesn't exist either. but, like with oscorp, i wanted to make it so that harry does exist but norman wouldn't have been able to find him even if he tried going to like a local library and looking him up.

hence the name change - harry lyman - and, also, by making him harry lyman, peter doesn't recognize his last name and connect that he's the son norman mentioned at FEAST. but also that means harry can't know who his dad is, because if he mentions that his dad is norman osborn at any point then peter will be able to connect those dots anyway. therefore, harry doesn't know his dad, and oscorp is a little starter business between norman and otto that's struggling to make it off the ground and build any traction.

but that fundamentally changes harry in a lot of ways, you know? he doesn't have the same daddy issues he has in canon because he doesn't know who his dad is and has had no influence in his life from norman. the most significant thing about his dad is that he was never in his life to begin with. but that also means harry wasn't raised rich, he wasn't raised surrounded by his dad's business, and he isn't expected to take over the company one day like in canon.

so that crosses business degrees off of the list, because without the influence of oscorp and norman, i don't see any reason for harry's character to be interested in any sort of degree relating to business. plus, there's still the fact that his character is shown to be super smart, so a stem degree would make the most sense, and then also there's this connection between him and his friends because they're ALL going in some kind of stem, which i think is cool.

but what stem degree fits harry? specifically homeward bound harry?

i looked through a lot of lists and did a lot of probably unnecessary research into various different types of stem degrees, and i kept hb harry in my head the whole time - the way i've developed his personality, what would make the most sense?

what i've decided on is applied mathematics.

the reason for this is because i can very easily see harry loving math. i haven't really gone in depth with his background prior to the start of the fic - all that's really been established is that he was raised by his single mom, emily, in the suburbs of new york, and up until esu, he never had any friends, which contributes to why he values his friendships with peter, gwen, and harley so much. and, obviously, he doesn't know who his dad is and doesn't really care to find out.

his background is going to be explored more down the line in the series (i've said this before but by the end of the series there's going to be scenes from the pov of everyone in the spidey squad, including harry, and also one shots from various perspectives as well) but what i'll say here is that his childhood was pretty confusing to him. he was happy with his mom, yeah, and he may not have been raised rich but he was never poor, either - he never worried about food or clothes that fit or losing their house. he grew up comfortable.

but also he grew up unsure about a lot of things. he was never able to make friends because he didn't really understand how. the kids at school never seemed to struggle with talking to each other and making up games on the spot and becoming friends in a matter of minutes, but his brain just never worked like that. he could never figure out what to say, he could never really get into the games the other kids wanted to play, and while he liked running around a playground sometimes, he always preferred a book or a worksheet.

he's not neurotypical, is basically what i'm trying to say. then again, literally none of these characters are, but harry was never like a "normal" kid. (harley is kind of similar in the fact that he never really had any friends in rose hill and he never wanted any, either)

so basically, harry struggled to understand a lot of things, like how to make friends, like why he didn't know who his dad was (his mom has always told him that it doesn't matter, which is kind of why harry now doesn't care because he's always been told it doesn't matter so why would be care about something that doesn't matter, right?), and various other things in the world and the people around him.

but he could always understand math. it's consistent. there's rules. sometimes the rules are confusing and kind of convoluted, but with enough practice, even the confusing and convoluted ones can make sense. there were always things he was curious about, too, though, so while he found comfort in the structure of math, he also found intrigue with other stuff, too. he loved to learn. always has.

applied mathematics feels like it makes sense for homeward bound harry, because applied mathematics is literally the application of mathematical methods in different fields. it can apply to physics. it can apply to medicine. it can apply to finance and business. computer science. engineering. biology. robotics. SO many things.

he loves to learn and i think he would love to be able to apply math, something he's always loved and found some comfort in due to it's consistency and that he's always found fun due to it feeling kind of like a puzzle he needs to solve, to various other fields that he would also love to learn about. it's all encompassing.

that's a really long explanation i'm sorry i didn't mean for the answer to end up this long but!!! those are the majors that i've decided on for the core four in homeward bound!!

[ouraniatm]

@musicalpriestess (aka datentm) asked: today was a special day to the heir prince of briar valley, as it was the day that his beloved was born into the world and graced his long life with excitement and new experiences. even though cora would be most opposed to any attention directed towards her, malleus would be remiss if he didn’t have a celebration of her birth on this day. even if he couldn’t have a grand party in her honor, she compromised with a small group of close friends of theirs. nevertheless, malleus would pull cora aside to present her the gift he had for her. ‘ happy birthday, cora, my dear. i know you don’t usually have something as this but i thought it fitting, nonetheless. ’ he handed her a small, blue velvet case that hidden inside was an intricately shaped multicolored gem that hailed from his homeland upon a beautiful silver ring. ‘ you may wear it upon your finger, as a necklace, or however you wish. but this gemstone is much like you, a multifaceted person of wonderful colors. ’

most wouldn't go too far for cora, someone who was the type to sneer at you just for looking at her. even for her birthday, there were fewer students who approached her simply to congratulate her just because it was mandatory...and those students were from her own dorm. some of them gave her gifts, sure, but they weren't too much - not that she cared much, either...some, however, would be more excited for this day than she was, ever. one of them was malleus, himself. it was odd to have the prince of briar valley try his damnedest to throw a celebration for cora, despite her obvious reluctance, but hey...if she managed to come back from the dead, then anything is possible.

in the end, cora went along with a small party at ramshackle, with those closest to them in attendance ( it was mostly malleus' usual group, sans for silver and jamil who were her friends, oddly enough ). while everyone had a merry old time with each other, she was pulled from prying ears and eyes by malleus to be given a gift of his own. color her curious, this time around, as she takes the case with small hint of wariness. ❛ hahhh...this is gonna be something way over the top, i just know it. ❜ it just fit his nature, after all.

once opening it, cora is rendered silent when gazing upon the unfamiliar gem, it's many colors glazing upon her eyes and simple design of the silver ring clearly surprising her. well, damn, so much about her "over the top" comment, she thought to herself before looking back at malleus with a small scoff at his following comment. ❛ you sure got an interesting take on "wonderful colors", horn boy...what's next, i'm some kinda rare gem, too? yeah, right... ❜ she chuckles mid sentence, small smile creeping along her lips. if you looked closely, you'd see small hints of pink dusting her cheeks, as well. ❛ well, whatever, i'll hold onto it, maybe put it on my computer desk...dunno if i'll ever wear it, jewelry's kinda not my thing, but...i guess it looks beautiful. ❜ pausing for one moment, cora looks back down at the ring...this time, her expressing seeming only a tad gentler - the look only someone who ever gave a damn for her would ever see. ❛ ...heh... thanks, malleus...~ ❜

happy (belated) birthday, cora (19/07)!