#and when she ran the pieces of the puzzle tried so hard to be put back the way it was

[polin-erospsyche]

Using @polinsated gifs to point this out because they’re beautiful ❤️

But it’s always going to be so wild to me that these two need two episodes from this kiss to figure their shit out. I know what is going on in both of their minds, I really do. He’s being hit by a 10 years worth ton of bricks and his world is shifting on its axis and it’ll never be the same from this point forth. She’s thinking this is the end of her little girl fantasy and the door is closing on her hopes and dreams and she will sacrifice those in order to be practical. In some sense too she’s growing up, she’s making what she thinks will be the mature choice. Someone once said that they’re standing on the door’s threshold and it’s symbolic, representing the threshold these two are on, swapping for each other’s place in some ways.

I know all of this. But you cannot deny the absolute softness that is in that kiss. It’s so delicate and they’re so careful it’s as if there is a spell on their kiss and this moment and it would break if they were any more forceful in their kiss. Yet there’s so much passion. Passion which is bursting at the brim, passion which they can barely hold back from it’s so strong. So they stay rooted into place, giving each other the gentlest of kisses lest the spell breaks and they give into each other and their wants. And the fact that they do not address this. That she pushes it under the carpet as soon as it’s brought up. That she decides to leave the dream, their kiss in that garden on that threshold locked away with a spell in a deep deep corner of her mind. That on the other hand he’ll never move on from that threshold, that spell which he will come back to time and time again in his dreams. The fact that she gave up on her dreams of him and he’s chasing his dreams to be with her. The fact that from this threshold they move in total polar opposite of each other and the doubts linger despite how soft and world altering the kiss was for both of them, it will never not be wild to me.

[allurilove]

A day in the life as Henry

Synopsis: Henry hated his father and his friends. He hated it even more when you left on a trip, and he was now stuck with four men that knew nothing on how to take care of a tyrant-like toddler, like him.

*This is just a short drabble of Henry! Henry is the readers child, and he’s the son of yandere husband! The new yandere fic will come out around thursday, and this is something I made on the spot lol.*

Henry found it odd when he was fed his favorite foods two nights in a row. He hadn’t seen a single broccoli in sight, or even that horrendous cabbage salad his father forced him to eat. It was all delicious fish with skin cooked to a crisp, then slathered in the green sauce made with fresh herbs. He was even allowed to eat whatever he wanted at any given time. It was slightly suspicious behavior, and he started to look back at the times he had done something good.

Let's see... he made a fuss when his father bathed him, cried when his father tried to joke around with him and put suds on his hair, and Henry ran around the house butt naked because he refused to put on his little star onesie. But, he did help his mother when she was gardening. One good thing he did for his mother completely outweighed all the bad with his father. So, they must have been rewarding him for being a good boy.

He opened his mouth when you fed him his favorite dessert next, and the moment he tasted the sweet applesauce, he gulped it down. He was too busy savoring the flavor to notice the look you shared with his father.

Henry rubbed his tired eyes as he finally woke up. He felt like he had been sleeping for hours and hours without end, and his body refused to get up. Henry hadn’t eaten this much before, but then he remembered his parents had used the same tactics before, and he had woken up at the doctor’s office. He couldn’t exactly say no to food, as you made it with love each time! You had definitely done this on purpose, and he was upset that he had fallen for it, and gotten into a food coma.

Damnit! He’s been bested, again!

Henry pushed the covers off him, his feet then landing on the ground as he pushed himself off his bed. He then huffed and puffed as he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. The toddler was about to give his father a piece of his mind and make him feel guilty for getting his guard down. He wondered what was going to happen this time. Was he going to the hospital? Was he about to be replaced by that damn dog his father had been ogling for the past week? He reached the corner and saw a little glimpse of your suitcase walking out of the door. His eyes widened immediately, his brain finally putting the last piece of the puzzle together, and it felt like his whole world came crashing down.

You whispered in his father's ear all the time when Henry was around, your eyes glued to the computer screen, and when he swore he saw you buying plane tickets, you denied the allegations. You lied to him. You teamed up with his worst enemy (his father) and betrayed him.

You were leaving.

The child couldn't believe it! He knew his father needed you as much as he did, and there he was, letting you freely walk out of the house without a single look back! How could you be so heartless? He had expected that type of behavior from his dad, but not from you.

“Nooooo!” Henry whined as he rushed up to the now closed front door. He heard the lock slide into place and started to bang his fists on the wood. “Come back! You forgot to bring me with you!"

How was he supposed to survive with just his father to rely on? Who was he supposed to cuddle at night? Surely, you didn’t expect him to hug a man whose body was hard as stone and who barely had the decency to pat his back to help him go to sleep! His father paled in comparison to you. There was no competition anyway; you were number one in Henry's eyes.

Even though you told Henry to never swear again, he felt like his whole body was about to explode into exploitatives!

“You big fat poopy jerk!” Henry cursed as he started to tug at his father’s hair. It had only been a single day since you left, and he was already on edge. He had been fighting with his father since that morning, refusing to listen to anything he had to say. It all felt irrelevant. The only person Henry really listened to was the person who had just walked out of his life!

"Henry, please!" his father tried to hold the toddler back, but Henry's hands kept grabbing at any hair he could reach. Using his thumb and index finger, Henry pulled on his father's eyebrows for good measure, even twisting them and plucking a couple of strands.

"Ow! That hurts!" the older man winced at his own son's grubby hands. “Get him off, get him off!” yandere husband roared in pain.

Yandere husband's friends stood there in shock from the petulant display. They had never seen a toddler so feisty like Henry, and they didn't know what to do. Their eyes followed them as the two started to tussle in the living room. Henry's toys were still scattered about, and yandere husband tripped on one of the trucks. He howled in pain as the hard plastic object jabbed into his shin. Henry continued to squirm and kick, his face red with frustration. His determination to defy his father was unmatched, fueled by a mix of anger and sadness from your departure.

"Applesauce! Bring me the damn applesauce!"

It took four packets to calm Henry down, and with each sip, yandere husband could see his son's eyelids start to droop. Yandere husband groaned and rubbed his face to soothe the aching feeling, and soon he heard his son happily snoring away.

Henry had spent the rest of the week begrudgingly warming up to the fact that he was stuck with his father and his little group. He woke up, rubbed his eyes, and finally slept in his own room for once. His father came by around 8 am, and Henry let the man pick him up, resting his cheek on his father's shoulder. Henry was then placed into his highchair, where he watched as the four men tried to fulfill his needs.

One man was gently wiping the crumbs off Henry's face, another scooped up the peas on his plate and fed them to him, and a third fanned the kid as the temperature started to rise, while his father cooked the rest of his meal. Henry preferred this treatment, being doted on as if he were royalty.

After he finished breakfast, his father brought him back to his room and picked out his outfit for the day: a Polo Bear Cotton Jersey Tee paired with his trusty blue overalls. His father then combed his hair with his fingers, applying a bit of gel here and there, followed by applying sunscreen. And of course, his father couldn't help himself and gently pinched at his chubby cheeks.

Henry and his father went to the park, where kids around his age liked to play. The toddler mostly played on his own as he wasn't ready to socialize yet. Plus, it was scary to put himself out there. Deep down, Henry was terrified of a lot of things. He picked up his tiny purple shovel, digging away at the sand, and he noticed a shadow appeared above him. He expected it to be his dad, but the silhouette was too small. Henry slowly lifted his head, his brow quirked when he noticed a girl staring at him. She carried a green sandcastle bucket in her hand and seemed mostly interested in the shovel Henry was using.

She hadn't said anything, but Henry could tell she wanted it. His shovel was pretty cool. It wasn't a plain beach toy, it had glitter on the handle, and it was in the shape of a crocodile. Unsure of what else to do, Henry handed her the shovel. Her hand reached out eagerly to take it.

"Um… would you like to play with me?" Henry asked tentatively, his heart thumping as he hoped he wouldn't be rejected. His eyes quickly glanced down, and his face turned a light shade of pink. He felt almost embarrassed to even ask that question.

"Sure," the girl in front of him nonchalantly shrugged, sitting down next to him. "Would you like to build sandcastles with me?" She had a slight teasing smile on her face, her posture relaxed and carefree as she already picked up a good amount of sand with his shovel.

"Sure!" :)

[leeofthevoid]

Not so Meet-Cute

Part Two: Did we or Did we not?

Farleigh Start x Reader

a/n: This is just a thing I had in my drafts.

Word Count: 2218

Warnings: Strong language, Explicit Content

You and Farleigh didn’t exactly have the meet cute you desired to have. 

It was the most awkward meeting you had since secondary school and it sucked ass. India hyped you up so much about how great he was and how you could at least bed him for one night since he was just that good.

Yeah…No fucking way. 

Everything went okay for the date but man, he didn’t even try. Flirted with all the girls and guys you walked past while having that park date his cousin and India prepared for the two of you. Apparently you two would click like puzzle pieces, but what did those two know about games that make you think hard. At the end of the ‘date’ you were left with two melting cones of ice cream while Farleigh had a different woman in his arms, flirting with her. A fucking twat. 

After a year of getting over that disaster, you are so tired of university and the fact that you had no avenue to destress, or what common folk say sexual frustration. You needed sex!

“India, I don’t think putting me in a shirt that spills my boobs out will attract the attention you think it will.” You comment as she hands you this corset type black top with matching A-line red skirt. “Relax, love. It’s our first day back in university and you deserve to turn heads.” You huff out a sigh of defeat and just grabbed whatever it is she asked you to wear. 

You put it on and felt like the air was squeezed out of you. “My! You look so gorgeous babes, I’d snag you up if I swung that way.” You rolled your eyes as she adjusted the clips behind your top, making it at least breathable. Guess you won’t be eating today. 

India was right, you did get a decent amount of attention. Even got yourself to turn heads from multiple people. Damn that diet and exercise bit your mum asked you to do with her over the summer payed off well. People started to reserve seats for you that you had to fight to get the year before. They complimented your hair, your eyes, your body. Well at least you had free lunch. 

Everything went well…Until a little disaster happened. It was your afternoon class and you might have had a little too much of Annabel’s vegetarian sandwich when you heard a small tear on you. You looked down and it was your top, not big enough to be of alarm though, maybe get it stitched after your classes. 

It did not go as planned. It started to rip off half an hour into class and you had to slide out from the room to run to the nearest bathroom. You barged in and opened the only cubicle that was working when the whole corset ripped in the middle of your chest, exposing your boobs if you didn’t hold on to it tightly with your hands. Curse these fabrics. Your friends all had classes and you didn’t even bring your own sweater. In short, you are fucked. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your wails were silenced when you heard a crash and the sound of footsteps hurriedly coming in, followed by sounds of…Kissing? No, moaning! Fuck!

“You’re doing so good for me, now be a good boy and open that door.” That voice sounded familiar and you were not excited about it. The other person…Guy whines as he tries to open your cubicle. The fuck is up with these bastards. 

“Shit it’s locked.” 

“Then force it open!” The more annoying voice said as the one pulling your door tries harder. After a few annoying and grueling moments of their struggle, you opened the latch and scowled at them. “Do you fucking mind?” You said, clutching the cloth on your chest as the other guy’s eyes widened. 

Holy fuck? Isn’t that Andrew? He was an apparent pussy-enjoyer and acted like that hetero straight guy. Guess the closet can be invisible. 

“Oh fuck.” Andrew said as he ran out of the bathroom. You are now left with that annoying shit you were praying to be so wrong about. 

“Hello, Farleigh.” Voice dripping with distaste, clutching on your top harder. 

He chuckled as he looked at you. Up and down with a wolf-whistle. “You look scrumptious, darling. Least you can do after ruining my little afternoon fuck.” He smirked, leaning on the door of the cubicle. “This is the women’s bathroom you little shit or did all that disease you carry finally blind you?” You said with annoyance,  crossing your arms over your chest securely, but your struggle didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Would have been a good insult if you weren’t in a bit of a situation yourself.” The sing-song voice was just adding more insult to injury. He was having a blast. 

“Well at least you get to witness what nice looking tits look like.” You proudly said while you sat on the cover of the toilet, crossing one leg over the other. “What good are those tits you flaunt if no one even sucks them.” 

“It’s called class, Farleigh. Bet you don’t even know the term ‘standards’. Yeah you should try that.” 

“Little Andrew too low for you?” He had an amused expression, waiting for another jab. 

“I guess you just take scraps now at this point. You desperate bitch.” You smiled up at him and raised your eyebrows. 

It would have been a victorious moment if your stupid corset did not eventually give out. It ripped fully and loudly like it sided with Farleigh. You clutched on it for dear life, eyes full of fear when you heard Farleigh’s guffaws. 

“Fuck! You know if you-you…Pffft.” He doubled over and clutched his stomach. “Shit, okay I’ll stop now. Pfft. Yeah okay I’m done.” 

“Fuck off, Start!” 

He collected himself and gave you a little smirk. “But…I’m your only hope at this point.”

He was fucking right. You had no choice. That evil grin on his face was slap-worthy but you wanted to go back and change without flashing the whole campus. You sighed in defeat and rolled your eyes. “Fine. Can I borrow your sweater?”

He smiled at you and looked at the spare knitted sweater hanging around his waist. “I mean…” 

“Farleigh!” 

“On one condition.” 

You groaned, “What!” 

“Well…A favor for a favor.” 

This bitch! Seriously! 

“Spill the fuck up or I will fuck your face up.” He gave you a challenging look before clearing his throat. 

“Go to my dorm later. I need to destress.” He winked as he threw you his sweater that you quickly wore to conceal yourself. He left before you could ask more and now you owe him a favor. 

Knowing Farleigh…It was a hundred percent sexual in nature. 

India heard about it, minus the Farleigh part. She just assumed a desperate boy offered you his sweater and tried to shoot his shot. 

You wish it was, could have been easier. You got to change into a more reasonable shirt but still kept the skirt going when India suddenly got a text from Farleigh. 

“Hey babes, remember that hot american cousin Felix has?” 

“…Date cheater?”

“Yeah. Well he told me to remind you about the favor.” 

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “India I have somewhere I need to be.” Your best friend was confused but simply nodded her head. 

You knocked on Farleigh’s door and immediately got pulled in. “What the fuck?” 

“Annotate my essay.” He pulled you to his desk and gave you a pen then jumped on his bed. That was…Unexpected. He was in thinner clothes, hands occupied with a book. Said nothing else to you and read his book. 

What the fuck? Okay then. 

The room eventually fell silent as you worked on his paper. Imagine being in your former shitty date’s dorm, annotating a decent essay. It was crazy. 

“Are you done?” He broke the silence, sitting up on his bed with a bored expression. It’s probably been an hour and surprisingly, you were done. “Yes, actually.” He wasted no time walking and leaned on the table, looking over your shoulder, checking your work. 

“Wow, tits and brains? You are the package.” You rolled your eyes while you looked up at him, eventually locking eyes. “That’s it? No weird sexual favors that usually get asked around?” Farleigh chuckled.

“Would you have given me a handjob if I asked?”

“No.” 

“See?” Well. He does have a point. You weren’t very discreet about disliking him. Even Felix knew about it. He squinted his eyes and then tapped your nose. 

“Actually…Wanna make-out? Just bored.” 

You know, if it weren’t for the lack of sex and fun, you would have never. But the curiosity and the boredom got to you too. 

“Sure.” You shrugged and broke eye contact by looking down at his desk again. 

“I mean, you did ruin my make-out session a few hours ago so…” You looked back at him with a scowl, his face visibly closer to yours.

He bit his lower lip, suppressing that fucking smile of his. “You know, what never min-“ 

Getting cut-off mid-sentence with his lips on yours was…Annoying. It was kind of an enjoyable annoying though. 

He was quick to spin the chair you sat on and held on the two armrests while slowly kissing you. Soft and tender like you imagined. 

He pulled you up the chair, hands snaking on the small of your back and the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The obvious size difference was a struggle, pulling you into his bed while you both traded desperate kisses. 

He sat on his bed, pulling you to straddle his lap. Man this fucker really loves dragging you around like a ragdoll, but the insults can wait. Pushing away from each other didn’t even last a few seconds until one of you pulled back in. 

He was so nice. So delicate. His lips were soft and his tongue, god his tongue worked wonders. He knew where you liked it and where you’d react, sliding down your bottom lip and exploring your mouth. He chuckled lowly when he could get a moan out of you, and even more so when his hands held a more sensitive part of your body. The room got degrees hotter than how it should be. 

“How far are you taking this?” You asked, out of breath. 

“Anything off limits?” His ragged voice, deep and velvety worked wonders on you but you had to stay vigilant. He’s still Farleigh.

“Anything down is a no-go.” 

“And tits?” 

“Fuck fine! Since you were so easy to insult the-“ He cut you off again with that big hand of his , massaging on your breast. It was just the right pressure to make you gasp. “Fuck.” You whined, causing you to wrap your arms around him. 

All of a sudden his door burst open. “Farleigh you won’t believe this, India said Y/N  got her shirt-“ Felix looked at the two of you on Farleigh’s bed, gossip cut short.

“Damn it Felix, knock mate. This is the fifth time!” You quickly got up from his lap and fixed yourself. “Hello, Catton. What did India say?” 

“T’s nothing. Carry on.” He quickly closed the door behind him and left. 

“I’m going.” You said while looking for your things, Farleigh just nodded and fell back on his bed. “See you around.” He said as you closed the door. 

The days after felt normal. India got the appropriate rundown of events that happened, excluding the parts that she would definitely share Felix. There were a few changes, being with Farleigh in the group. Having a bit more colorful back and forth when you are in the same space. The playful smirks and coy smile he has when his arms are wrapped around other people. Maybe let’s not forget the lingering touches he gives you when people are too occupied. 

“You know, that little toy you brought is interesting.” You jolted up as Farleigh dropped on the couch, bottle of cheap wine in hand. “Don’t get too interested now, I just managed to catch that one.” The party was muffled from where you sat, only the ones that passed out or was making moves with eachother settled in the living room with the two of you. “Speaking of, where is he?”

“David?” 

“Mhm?” Farleigh nodded then took a swig of his drink. 

“Huh…” There was a visible look of dumbfoundedness on your face when you realized you lost your date for at least half an hour now. “Holy fuck, I just lot my ticket to shagville.”

“Oh god…Ew!” Farleigh cringed, scooting away from you. “Seriously? Shagville? The fuck are you, ninety?”

“Oh, you’d want that so bad huh?” You teased. 

A comfortable silence enveloped the room. Farleigh continued to take drinks from his bottle while you lit up a joint he borrowed from you once in a while.

He blew raspberries, playing with his bottle or poking you. “So…”

“So…?”

“Wanna make-out?” He asked, voice slurring a little.

You shrugged, checked around th room for a few moments and just accepted the fact that your date is not coming back. 

“Sure.” You shrugged.

He nodded and stood up pulling you with him in search of a place to fool around.

a/n: Part two?! SMUT?!

[sleepybabybees]

How nik found out about the raccoon.

When Nik first met price, he vaguely recalls that price had a scratch on his face, and he remembers he asked about it. Price being price and having a grudge against his Lieutenant at the time muttered something along the lines of "The bloody raccoon got his claws on me-" and from then on Nik fully believed that Price owned and tamed a wild raccoon.

Every time the two would see each other, he would ask him how the sweet darling was doing. Price, now having realised Nik has no idea who Simon is, downloaded photos of raccoons to show nik and play along with the joke that he never even intended to start. When Price told laswell about what he had accidentally done, she laughed so hard she began to cry, not because it was a funny joke but because Simon genuinely looked like a raccoon once he took off his mask...or so she'd heard.

So when one night when Nik was staying at the 141's base, he got up to make some tea to soothe him back to sleep and ran into a blonde soldier in the kitchen, a dark paint smudged over his eyes and bridge of the nose. They locked eyes and just stared at one another for a moment whilst Niks brain put puzzle pieces he didn't even know he had together.

----

Nik: HOLY FUCK- YOURE THE RACCOON-

Ghost: I beg your pardon?

Nik: you- you're the pissing raccoon that John keeps mentionin'

Ghost: ...he better sleep with one eye open or ill scratch the other side-

Nik: why did you even-

Ghost: he tried to take my mask to clean it- it always smells like fucking- i dont know- honeysuckle and sandlewood- the recruits keep asking me about why it smells so good-

Nik: OK, trash panda. I understand

Ghost: I hate you-

Nik: too bad.

[sisosign2]

Babysitting With You 🤱 | Mike Wheeler x Fem!Reader

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Warnings: Caught making out/performing explicit behaviour, implying having sex, mentions of slight bullying.

Summary: Y/n invites Mike over but forgets she was meant to babysit her little brother so he offers to help.

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"So... you're parents are out of town all day?" Mike asked with a smirk, sitting on the couch with her, she rolled her eyes. "Yes Mike, and no, we can't do what you're thinking of." She said, pushing his face away as he tried to kiss her. "Oh come on baby... pleaseee." He pleaded, kissing her hand, she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, we can kiss for a little while." She said, nearly being cut off as Mike practically slammed his lips into hers, his hands moving to her hips and lifting her onto his lap, her hands cupped his cheeks instinctively. Their lips locking together like two puzzles pieces, his fingers fiddled her her shirt, untucking it and reaching under it while she played with his hair and kissed back. He touched her back, causing it to arch and earning a gasp from her, accidentally allowing him access to her mouth. He tongue slipped in quickly, fighting hers while his hands tried to figure out exactly how one was to undo a bra hook, he worked away while trailing his kisses down her neck. Once undone he smashed his lips back against hers, wanting more, his hands cupping her breast. "What are you two doing?" Y/n's little brother chirped up, he had been sat next to them for what seemed like half of their makeout session. "Nothing! Nothing..." She said quickly, fixing her bra and his hair. "W-well... could you help me?" Her brother asked timidly, holding some crumpled paper. "What's this Dimples?" She asked, Mike couldn't help but smile, Y/n always called her brother cute things like Dimples, for the obvious reasons that is. Y/n looked at the paper and sighed. "Are you being made fun of at school?" She asked softly, placing her hand on his cheek, her brother nodded and turned away, clearly embarrassed. "Hey, hey, it's okay little guy, everyone gets made fun of at least once in their lives..." Mike said softly, patting his shoulder. "Yeah bud, I mean, Mike and I were made fun of all throughout middle school." She said softly, lifting him onto her lap. "But you two are like, the coolest people ever." Her brother said quietly, making them smile. "I guess it's hard to tell for some people." Mike said ruffling his hair. "What do you say... we make a batch of your favourite cookies?" Y/n said, trying to cheer her little brother up, her brother nodded happily and ran off to get something. "What's he doing?" Mike asked, Y/n turned to him and smiled. "Getting into his little chef outfit." Y/n said softly, standing up and leading him to the kitchen where she grabbed out the ingredients for cookies. They all made cookies, all ending up with flour all over their face and Mike even had cookie dough in his face from her brother putting it on his face, they were all laughing and having fun while making the cookies. Y/n picked up a bit of dough and wiped it onto the tip Mike's nose. "I feel like I'm getting ganged up on." Mike said teasingly, picking them up and spinning them around for a bit while they laughed, by the time the cookies were in the oven they were exhausted, Mike had went to clean his face and Y/n's brother went to get something upstairs. When Mike came out of the bathroom he was shot on the forehead with a toy arrow, Y/n's brother giggling as he saw Mike's face. Mike chased him around and picked him up pretending to beat him up while Y/n was laid on the carpet practically falling asleep.

[dracosrep]

~Missed You~ D.M

(fluff, semi-smut)

---------------------------

PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

WARNINGS: fingering in public

SUMMARY: Draco teases Y/N during breakfast at Hogwarts.

I just woke up, but not in a great mood. I studied all night for the charms test hoping I will get at least 60/100.

I decided to get out of bed earlier so I can get ready, for what's next. My boyfriend Draco got a break from Hogwarts because of personal causes. It's been two weeks since he left. But yesterday he sent me a letter to let me know that he's coming back today.

Me and Draco have a really great relationship. We fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. And my God, those ocean blue eyes. I feel like they hypnotize me. I'm so lucky to be with him, he's just so kind. Not to mention all the love and the attention he gives me.

I put on my uniform and fix my hair then I search for my books. I finally got myself out of the room with so many things going inside my head 'What personal causes?' 'Why didn't he tell me?'

I enter the Great Hall and my eyes are looking for him everywhere. He didn't arrive yet, I guess. So I go and sit next to Pansy.

"Hey how are you girl?" Pansy spoke to me but I didn't notice, I was too busy looking for him in every inch of this big room.

Pansy noticed that I'm constantly turning my head. "Who are you looking for- oh" Draco entered the hall, immediately he saw me and rushed to me. I quickly got up and ran to him. He embraced me in a long, big hug.

"I missed you." He softly spoke to me. "I missed you more." I whispered to him. He split the hug so he could look at me. "No that's impossible, I'm sure I missed you the most!" He seriously said. I smile at his words but I couldn't say a single thing before he pressed his lips on mine. He kissed me with so much passion.

"Draco, let's head to the table. It seems like we're being watched." He then looked around before nodding and taking my hand to go to the table.

We sat down at the table next to each other. Pansy saw that one coming so she switched seats, now she's sitting next to Blaise. At first Draco had a talk with them then he started talking to me.

"What did you do without me, hm?" He said in a deep voice. "Not much, studied, hard" He raises his eyebrows. "What for?" I took a bite of an apple,Draco watching my movements. "We have a charms test today. I couldn't sleep because of it" He sighs. "You know you should slow down with these things, you are taking them too seriously. They are just classes after all." He spoke.

"I'll try. Well what did you do?" I was really curious, he didn't mention anything in the letter.

"Oh I had some important family meetings, nothing fun really." He drunk some juice before saying again. "I would prefer to stay here with you anytime than going to those meetings." I softly chuckle. "I thought you hated Hogwarts!" He took a bite of his food. "Yeah but with you here, it's different. You are the only reason I'm still here in this pathetic school."

I smile before looking into his eyes. Like I said they take my breath away. Moments of silence and just staring at each other hit. He was gorgeous.

"Mate so you see.." Blaise broke the silence so he could talk with Draco about some new quidditch stuff. That's when Draco put his hand around my waist.

I kept eating and suddenly I felt his hand lifting up the back of my shirt. He slid his hand under my shirt. His cold hand sent me shivers down my spine. I tried to act normal but he started to slowly move his fingers drawing circles on my back.

This man. I don't know what he's doing but I know he's driving me insane. He's teasing me. He actually enjoys it.

I looked at the table looking for pancakes. They were far away on the table. I get myself up so I can reach them pushing myself into Draco as a tease. My skirt lifts up. I just feel him smirk. I take the pancakes and put them on my plate, I sit back down. My man didn't waste any time before putting a hand on my skirt.

He slowly starts to slide his hand in. He already feels my wetness. I slightly gasped when I felt his hand on my clit. He started moving his fingers. I tried so hard to act fool. He inserted a finger in my pussy. I covered my mouth trying not to make a sound. He was watching me, he was just enjoying how I'm struggling. He added another finger and started to move them in and out. I couldn't help but silently moan.

Pansy turns her head. "Y/N are you alright?" Draco kept doing his work while I was trying to respond to Pansy. "Y-yes I am. I just have- mm cramps" I finally spoke. Then I felt a familiar knot in my stomach. I was close.

Draco was almost laughing at me watching me like this. "I'm close.." I whispered to him. He nodded and approved that I can cum on his fingers, so I did. Another silent moan hitting.

Draco smiled and said to me. "I missed you like this too." He chuckled. I playfully rolled my eyes.

"Then that means I'm not gonna sleep tonight either."

------------------------------------

Hey! This is my first ever written story. I hope it's good. I would like to hear opinions. I really enjoyed writing this so I think I'm gonna keep writing. I take requests! 🫶🏻

[myinconnelly1]

Hard at Work - The Interview

Summary: Katie Thompson is good at solving problems, so naturally when an offer for a work study at Stark Tower arrives, she signs up. Will her Omega designation help or hinder the training of the new superheroes.

Word Count: 812

Masterlist

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, heat mentioned

Katie shouldn’t feel this hot.  She knew that heats got worse as you got older, but she had only had two others in her life.  Hell, she wasn’t even old enough to drink her problems.  She huffed as she let her hands run over her breasts slowly, in the way that she wanted to be touched but hadn’t.

In the silence of the library, she let her eyes drift closed.  She had let the air conditioning invite her into the forest of fantasies, away from the humid heat of the late evening.  The whole building would be empty at this time of night, and she should have been in her room for sleep but the need to move had brought her out sneaking around the campus.  She only hoped that wasn’t caught by any of the Avenger’s.  She didn’t want to be kicked out of her work study. 

A sigh left her parted lips as she touched herself slowly letting her feeling build as the heat started to take over her senses.  She thought about the alpha she wished was touching her right now.  How soft his hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it.  She wondered how he would sound as he touched her and felt her. 

3 Weeks earlier

“Ms. Thompson?  The boss will see you now.”  Katie startled as she heard the sultry tone of the AI in Stark tower.  “Just go through the second door.”  It was impressive to her that Tony Stark had managed to program a computer with the idiosyncrasies of an accent.

“Thanks,” Katie said nervously, then went through the indicated door.  “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark”

“Katherine Thompson, Boss,” Friday introduced her to the superhero fidgeting with a design.

“Thanks, Friday.  I kinda hate small talk, so let’s cut right to it.  I saw from the questionnaire that you filled out you’re fairly new to your designation, and that your teachers mostly give you good grades.  How do you feel about cameras?”  Tony just jumped into his questions with no time for Katie to prepare for the abruptness of his questions.

“Well, I flunked Drama class in high school and never went back,” She laughed nervously.  “But in general, I don’t have a problem with them.”

“Good, I have them all over the campus.  Is there any special reason I should bring you on board for this work study?”  He asked.  Tony still hadn’t looked at her he was working some kind of 3D puzzle design.  Katie hated that question in interviews though.  She was smart enough to get by but some of her decisions got her in trouble.  And no matter how hard she tried she hadn’t learned from those mistakes.

She walked up to Tony’s right-hand side and flicked four pieces into place in quick succession.  The rest of the design fell into place as the computer finished the logical conclusion to what she had set in motion, and Tony quirked his head to the side as he took in both the design and the young woman that was standing next to him.

“I’m pretty good at puzzles,” Katie offered with a useless shrug.  “What is it that you are trying to get out of this work study?”

“My goal is to get a new team prepared ready for fighting for the world.”   He said as he put the design away and took his seat, motioning for her to sit as well.

“Why do you need Betas and Omegas?  Aren’t all superheroes Alphas?”  Katie asked, realizing for the first time since being in the room that Tony’s scent wasn’t all that strong or offensive.  Sure, he lived here so it smelled of him, but it wasn’t overpowering like most Alphas.

“No there are some that are Beta’s, but it’s a fair question.  A lot of our Superhero’s struggle with their image of being impulsive and rough.  It’s not really their fault, a lot of the “powers” they have are hampered when suppressants are introduced.”  Tony’s shrugged as if everything was simple.

“So, this is like a chance for prospective superheroes to learn how to live in society?”  Katie was obviously skeptical.

“Actually, you’re not far from the goal.  Think of this work study as school on how to behave and get some training for both to be superheroes as well other extraordinary people.”  Tony stood up extending his hand.  “You are the first person I have interviewed that figured out what were trying to do here without being told.  I think you are the right kind of person for us.”

Katie shook his hand, slightly stunned.

“If you are inclined to accept my offer, just bring your things here to stark tower.  We will get you set up in your dormitory.  Food and lodging will be provided for you as long as you chose to stay.  Classes start Monday,” Tony joked.

Part 2

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Are there Avengers or Hell's Kitchen People that you would like to see in this fic? It's been so long since I've written anything!

[detcodrivels]

Crossroads

(A Detective Conan Short)

Ran had left that morning like an overcast sky filled with dark grey clouds, drooping low and heavy with the threat of rain. But like that calm before a violent thunderstorm, she had gone in silence. Sometimes he took her resilience for granted, he supposed, her sweetness, her natural inclination to forgive, to try to accept and understand. She gave so much of herself to others. He wondered where she got that from. Not him, surely. Eri, then? He frowned and reached for the breast pocket of his suit coat, shaking a cigarette loose from the package before he remembered he was in a nonsmoking establishment. With a sigh, he dropped it back again, changing course for the cup waiting for him to his left. No, he decided as he took a healthy sip, he and Eri were fiercely proud individuals, too proud…Far too proud. Certainly, neither of them shared their daughter’s tolerant nature.

Then again, it wasn’t as though she let people walk all over her. She put up with a lot, certainly, but Kogoro had seen her snap, had witnessed the end of her long rope, and though ferocious and tempestuous, like lightning flashing in a night sky, it was somewhat awe inducing, something which caused his invisible heartstrings to pull with pride that he supposed only a father would know. His beautiful, independent, strong-willed, but patient and caring and selfless little girl.  The various cushions that had been reduced to threads and the dents that peppered the walls of the office did not share in this pride, but it was his privilege as a father to overlook the destructive price her repressed turmoil unleashed. And he understood. More than she, hopefully, would ever know. He knew how she struggled, how hard she worked to keep her own emotional rollercoaster from running off the rails. And he knew his own contributions to the storm.

Yes, that part he knew all too well.

He knew it didn’t help that he and Eri refused to settle their score. He couldn’t even remember why they’d split up in the first place now. And maybe it didn’t matter. The love was still there. He felt it every time he even thought of her name…yet it was so hard, so incredibly impossible when they were eye to eye.

He knew it didn’t help that he made the wrong choices again, and again…and again. The late nights with his mahjong buddies, the pachinko parlors, horse racing and ever enticing bliss of copious alcohol consumption; it all added fuel to the raging inferno that was rapidly spreading over every corner of his simple life. But these habits, as deplorable as they may be in hindsight, felt more and more like his last and only escape.

He had always valued justice, honor, and integrity…that was why he had become a police officer, and why he’d pursued private practice after that. In every system, every hierarchy, there was opportunity for corruption, for red tape and restrictions to limit the scope of one’s ability to influence, to help and to be true to their convictions. Not that the Metropolitan Police were in any way unethical, he just found that the regulations could interfere with the lengths he wanted to go in order to ensure righteousness prevailed. But the tangled, intertwined web he now found himself wrapped up in was more than he had ever bargained for. Be that as he may, he was determined to see it though. To play his part. Even if that part was to be the fool.

He wasn’t the brightest bulb. He could admit that to himself. He tried to portray a poised and confident suave demeanor, but it crumbled fast, his ego battered and beaten by the many times he had found himself as the punchline of many a joke. He got flustered and muddled. Try as he might, the clues rarely consented to add up together properly, or worse yet he’d miss something crucial altogether. But with every case he tried to see it, to piece the infuriating puzzles together as quickly as his many colleagues managed to do so, to study their approach and mimic it. He tried to be what the newspapers said he was. THE Sleeping Kogoro, a genius detective. But the act could be incredibly tiring, exhausting down to the bone, and the stakes were greater than ever now, all of it culminating into a pressure too great for his shoulders, and in his moments of weakness, when it was all too much, then he slipped back into the worst of those bad habits, let himself down, let Eri down, and Ran, too. And Ran truly didn’t deserve it. She had enough of her plate as it was without having to feel like the adult between the two of them, responsible for her father.

The walls around his life seemed to have been narrowing over the last year, ever since Yusaku Kudo paid him a visit to explain the most bizarre, unbelievable, ludicrous, and terrifying situation he had ever heard. Fumiyo Edogawa had left with Conan just a half hour prior. Ran had just gone off, summoned urgently to Sonoko’s for some kind of wardrobe emergency (Or so the phone call indicated). And then, as soon as she had exited the office door, it had opened again. Yusaku Kudo. Kogoro tried not to resent and envy him. He had always been so bright, so above it all, seemingly, and he never struggled to connect the dots in any case. Nonetheless, he had not the drive to put his exceptional mental abilities to work solving crime and getting the bad people off the streets. Instead he gallivanted all over the world, thinking up more and more ingenious ways for criminals to get away with murder.

But Kogoro had welcomed him in and offered him a seat at the couch, started tea, since Ran wasn’t there to do so, and muttered something about not realizing he was back in the country. It was as he turned back from the kettle that he’d noticed the urgency in Yusaku’s eyes, the utmost seriousness and Mouri had reacted by stiffening his own shoulders, as if he were about to be given an order.

“It’s about Shinichi, isn’t it,” Mouri had guessed.

He had tried to not to get too worked up when the kid had stopped showing up in school, but Ran mentioned it almost daily. He knew Shinichi shared his father’s keen and shrewd mind, but with an accompanying itch for justice and truth that probably got him into more trouble than was good for a sixteen year old. But then, Shinichi hardly seemed sixteen sometimes. He had lived alone, taken care of himself and was generally responsible, so when Ran had come home from Tropical Land and said he’d run off following the lead on a case, neither of them had been particularly alarmed. Surely he would turn up sooner or later. But then days turned into weeks, and weeks into a month. They’d been busy. Conan showed up, for one thing, and Mouri had been occupied with cases almost every day of the week. His bouts of amnesia had started, too. The time had slipped by and then finally Shinichi had reached out to Ran, some story about the being held up on a case longer than he expected and Mouri had let the matter rest. It was negligent, in retrospect.

Yusaku’s solemn nod was morose and grave. He had leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, a pyramid formed with his fingertips, like some kind of imitation of Holmes. “Where to begin…” he had mused with a helpless quirk of his brows. Then, without waiting for Mouri’s response, he went on, “I’m sure you’re privy to all available details regarding the circumstances of Shinichi’s absence.”

Kogoro had nodded, a nervousness creeping up under his collar. “Ran said he was on a case… I know he hasn’t been at school, but he sticks his nose into cases here and there. Calls often enough… I figured he at least let you two know where he is exactly…”

Yusaku bobbed his head in accordance with Mouri’s summation of the past month’s events, but with an anticipative air, waiting for his moment to pick up the tale. “He’s closer than you’d think,” Yusaku murmured dryly. “Truthfully, it’s been hard for me to believe it, but with the impossible removed all that remains is the improbable, and as Occam’s Razer says, the simplest answer is the best.”

Leave it to Yusaku Kudo to find the most complicated way of saying something.

“What I am saying is that my son disappeared after visiting Tropical Land and that very night, on the outskirts of said amusement park, a six year old boy was discovered by the security officers, a boy who ran from the police straight to my house, and who Ran found with Dr. Agasa in my library. A boy,” he finished, his youthful face betraying lines of fatigue and stress, “Who coincidentally bears a name created from the conglomeration of two famous mystery authors, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Edogawa Ranpo.”

Mouri had swallowed a hard lump, jogged into motion by the sputtering of the kettle. “Dr. Agasa said he was a relative. You’re saying Shinichi’s disappearance and Conan’s appearance are connected?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Mouri waited patiently through Yusaku’s dramatic interlude.

“From what I understand, and I’m likely to know more in the next few days, Shinichi stumbled across some kind of illegal transaction between members of a sophisticated, international crime syndicate and a business owner. While he was gathering evidence of the crime, he was discovered—.”

Here, Mouri had interrupted, “—But Ran has spoken with him! He calls! If he was hurt or… He solved a case just the other day over the phone…!”

“The associates of the criminal organization intended to silence him, but their plans went awry in a most unexpected way,” Yusaku supplied readily. “It seems they had developed a poison, one which would dissolve within its victim, traceless, lethal, a terrifying advancement in chemistry, and they chose Shinichi as the lab rat. But the drug did not work as intended. In fact, it worked in a way I’m sure the organization could not have begun to predict.” Yusaku’s earnest eyes met Mouri’s with a willing intensity, pushing him connect the pieces together.

Once the thought entered Mouri’s head, there was no dispelling it, no matter how insane it seemed. Could Conan Edogawa and Shinichi Kudo be one and the same? Was that the conclusion Yusaku was trying to imply? In some small way, it made a lot of things make sense. The kid was always fluttering around at crime scenes, pointing out small details, poking his nose behind the crime scene tape without a bit of the natural reservation one would expect for a six year old, none of the fear or disgust that ought to be present. And the details he pointed out were always important, always key bits of evidence. Only a mystery nut like Shinichi would come up with a stupid alias like ‘Conan Edogawa,’ too! And Kogoro had seen more success since the boy showed up. His fame, his recognition as a detective only started AFTER Conan had arrived and started guiding the investigations. His amnesia had started up around then, too.

And the more he thought about it, the more sense it made, the more he felt as though he already knew, even before Yusaku spelled it out for him. He knew the pricking feeling, like a spark against his skin, the last thing he’d feel before he’d wake up having solved another case. And then there was the time that he’d started to rouse just slightly and he could hear himself, as if the voice were emanating from the air itself, so competent, so controlled, exposing the devious tricks of the culprit to the room of stunned and attentive suspects. He’d done the logical thing and told himself it was just some kind of delusion, some kind of side effect of his isolated memory loss. He only THOUGHT his mouth wasn’t moving. He only THOUGHT his voice was emanating from elsewhere. It made sense if the brat was somehow shooting him with a tranquilizer and inducing the sleeping state, then emulating his voice to deliver deductions, because no one would listen to the deduction show of a six year old…

The emotions had flooded him in distinct and ferocious waves. Indignation, fury, confusion, worry… Why hadn’t Shinichi just explained the truth? How could he so callously let Ran wait for him, let her carry to burden of his absence and yearn for his presence while all along he was standing right beside her? How dare he repeatedly inject him with God only knows what kind of serum and impersonate him!?

“I can’t pretend I’m entirely on board with how he decided to handle the situation,” Yusaku remarked, as if reading Mouri’s mind. “He had to think fast, though, and Dr. Agasa did suggest that he position himself alongside you, and keep his identity secret, just in case the syndicate came to check up on their attempted elimination. It is true that were the criminals to know the truth, both about the drug’s effect and that Shinichi survived, it would pose danger to all of his associations. I have made contacts with friends in Interpol and other authorities in an attempt to facilitate their capture and dismantling, but so far I have no leads, and in the meantime, Shinichi Kudo cannot exist. You may have suspected already, but Fumiyo Edogawa was just Yukiko in one of her disguises, and we have a plan by which we intend to show him the true danger he’s in. It is my hope that we can take him out of the country, but…” Yusaku sighed, breaking off his stream of words with an almost wistful expression, “Knowing my son, no matter how the next couple of days play out, he won’t want to leave. He’ll want to solve this case, to hold the criminals accountable for what they’ve done and bring the organization to justice. That is why I came to see you. Because in order for him to do that, should he choose to, in order for him to remain here with access to information to cases and criminal activity, he would need to remain in your custody.”

“So you want to run away to America again? You said it was an international syndicate. What if they follow you?”

“Our information is so limited right now. There’s little else that can be done…”

Something about the way Yusaku finished made Mouri think there was an unspoken “Unless” lingering in the stale air between the two of them.

Mouri surprised himself when he filled in the unspoken statement himself, “Unless we wait for them to make a move, linger and wait in the right place, for the right time.” He warmed to the concept quickly, gathering momentum with every word, “The more cases I take, the more likely I’ll stumble upon their activity. The more information I can glean, the better chances we have to take down the organization, to determine the components of the drug and procure an antidote. You won’t say it, but you’re asking me to play along, aren’t you? To let him stay here, to let him hide behind the ‘Sleeping Kogoro’ he created?”

“It’s a lot of ask…”

Mouri flashed him a dark glance.

No, Mouri wasn’t the brightest. He wasn’t a genius. He wasn’t like these crazy natural detectives with their lightning fast deductive abilities and photographic memories, with databanks for brains. But he didn’t need to be a genius to understand the situation as it had been laid before him. He didn’t have to be a mastermind to see how he could be helpful. By taking in Shinichi, or…Conan Edogawa…He would shoulder the dangers if he stumbled upon important information. He would be the shield. The cover. The mask. And all he had to do was act oblivious to it all, to let “Conan” solve the cases through him, and if this secret organization came calling, they wouldn’t suspect the six year old kid—they’d suspect the “great” detective.

��I don’t want him to know…” Yusaku murmured, seeming to sense that Mouri had already, without words, agreed without question.

Mouri arched a brow. “Why is that? Wouldn’t it be more effective if we worked together as a collaborative team? He wouldn’t have to knock me out as much. I could easily deliver the deductions if he guided me through his thought process. Besides, the tranquilizer or whatever he’s using is already losing its effect on me.”

“Shinichi is proud,” Yusaku replied thoughtfully, “And has a chivalrous fault. I’m sure the reason he didn’t tell you initially was to spare you the burden of the knowledge. No doubt he felt that by keeping you and Ran in the dark if the organization were to question you your answers would be honestly innocent. If he knew your involvement, he might do something rash, like refusing to stay. I need him somewhere relatively safe and controlled. This syndicate is a bigger nest of rats than even I could have dreamed up…”

“Why not just order him to go to America with you? Force him to let the authorities handle it.”

Yusaku met Mouri’s gaze, holding it just a moment too long. “Were it you, would you be able to live with yourself if you ran and hid?”

And that was how Mouri ended up with Conan Edogawa as a temporary house guest, though lately it seemed like a permanent arrangement. Yusaku kept him updated with the progress of the case against the “Black Organization” and in the meantime he solved cases and allowed, within reason, Shinichi do his own line of investigation. Of course, part of the deal was that he had to keep the organization from having Conan Edogawa on their radar, a harder job than Mouri had bargained for. Shinichi seemed to forget he was supposed to be a grade-schooler the moment a mystery presented itself, running head first into the trouble, crawling all over crime scenes, and countless times Mouri felt he was being just a TAD too obvious. At those times, Mouri quite relished in his ability to pick him up like a sack of potatoes and toss him out of the way…

The tranquilizer had long worn of having any effect upon him at all, but he still spun and flopped around the room until he found a convenient place to plop himself down and assume the pose of the sleeping detective. Sometimes, just for fun, he would prolong the moment, making it more and more ridiculous, playing his character. Other times, he almost felt the two of them were working together, Shinichi “Ah-le-le-ing” the clues so that Mouri could slowly, slowly get the picture. Those times felt good, like he was learning, like Shinichi trusted that he had the ability to make the deductions, giving him the extra time he needed in order to do so. Other times, he was just a snotty little brat, like he was enjoying the chance to be as annoying to Mouri as possible.

And at the end of the day, Shinichi remained, as he had promised to Yusaku, oblivious to Mouri’s knowledge of his true identity, close enough to keep an eye on, but with enough free rein to investigate, to do his part to seek justice. And Mouri played his part, silly and slow and stupid, because the Black Organization might feel threatened by the astute Sleeping Kogoro, but not when they saw him carefree and drinking, making racing bets and wasting his time at the mahjong table. They were his means of escape, part of his disguise, and lately the only place he could turn to because there was no one to talk to, no one he could tell and little he could do. The inaction ate at his insides. The silence was suffocating; the danger too real.

But it was also the reason Ran was so upset this particular morning. Another late night, home after midnight, stinking of alcohol, pathetic… She had a big Karate thing going on at the school this morning, starting quite early. She was no doubt expecting he would be up to see her off and wish her luck, but he’d been out so late that by the time he awoke she was already dressed and ready to leave, not to mention she had lost sleep herself getting him to bed… She hadn’t made breakfast, leaving him and Conan to fend for themselves.

He ruffled the page of his paper, the tiny print blurring. The headline was something about crime rates rising, but he hadn’t been reading it this whole time, just holding it in front of his face while his mind wandered endlessly. For a moment, he returned to reality, aware, briefly of the muffled conversation from the tables surrounding him, but it was fleeting. His head was far too muddled to focus, far too lost in swirling emotion over the whole ordeal of the last year.

Had someone told him he’d be allowing Shinichi to live under the same roof as Ran at sixteen, if someone told him he’d be casually getting breakfast with him on a Saturday morning, he would have told them they were crazy, and then probably dealt them a fair cobra twist for good measure. But for all the grief he gave Ran about all of Shinichi’s worst qualities, he knew he would rather she was with him than anyone else. And after her return from her class trip to Kiyomizu, he was fairly certain they had graduated from childhood friends to something closer. And he wasn’t so sure he liked it…

The cocky annoying brat…

He ought to be focusing on his case, on the evil murderous syndicate looming over his life, not running off on a school trip, somehow, miraculously, returning to his original form just for the occasion, flashing his face all over Kyoto, engaging in grandiose deduction shows and finding time to cement his relationship with Ran to boot. It wasn’t safe, it wasn’t smart. For all his genius, he could be incredibly stupid, Kogoro fumed.

And it wasn’t exactly fair to Ran either, to send her back from the school trip the same way he had left her at that fancy restaurant, and in London, disappearing as if he were the phantom thief! One minute there, the next minute gone, leaving Ran to wait endlessly, day after day, wondering when the next news would arrive. All the while he was right there, eating dessert with her at the restaurant, holding her hand as they walked across the street on the way to their respective schools. So near, yet so far. Mouri knew the pain of being apart from the person you cared most deeply about. He knew how the ache could eat at one’s soul, and he couldn’t stand to see that pain in his daughter’s eyes.

Of course, it wasn’t Shinichi’s fault exactly that the makeshift antidotes always seemed to wear off at the worst moment. And Mouri had recognized the tragic, lost expressions on Conan’s face time and time again, an expression of longing and frustration that no child could suffer. There were times that Shinichi got on his nerves, especially when he was being particularly indiscrete at a crime scene and making not only Ran, but everyone else suspicious, and he had taken advantage of their dynamic to make many a pointed comment about Shinichi’s defects in front of him. At the same time, however, he had also seen Shinichi’s face grow weary and sad, weighted down by the immensity of the situation he had found himself in. At times like that, Kogoro did what he could either to redirect his attention, involve him in a case or just offer some slight praise to Shinichi, some slight nudge of encouragement, even if he couldn’t say it outright. In his own small way, Kogoro tried to uplift him when he could. Because, ultimately, that boy was going to be his son-in-law. And Yusaku was right, Shinichi was chivalrous and proud, and he adored Ran with an undying loyalty that Mouri had to respect.

“Kogoro-no-ojisan!”

There was a nudge at his elbow and he jolted, jostling his coffee mug and the hot, dark liquid sloshed over the rim and polka-dotted the front of his suit. Looking down at the young boy beside him on the booth seat he scowled menacingly, gruff with his reply, “What do you want?!”

“It’s time to order!”

Startled, he turned his head to find T­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ooru Amuro grinning with polite patience. “I’ll get you some napkins!” He turned quickly, running his fingers through his bangs to brush them out of his eyes in his haste.

Mouri waved away the concern, however, calling him back. “Don’t bother, not much spilled.”

“I can come back if you’re not ready yet.”

Shaking his head, Mouri ordering his usual absentmindedly. Beside him, Conan chirped that he’d like an egg on toast and Amuro turned away back to the café counter. Mouri was about to return to his perusal of the paper when he noticed Shinichi’s eyes lingering on his face with that same, unnerving, calculating stare Yusaku had, like he was peeling back false pretenses, looking directly into Mouri’s deepest thoughts. He bristled, crooked an eyebrow and glared back. “What do you want?” he snapped. Unable to hold back from mocking him a little, he added, “The comic section?”

He noted the reddish tint to Shinichi’s ears at being talked down to like the child he appeared to be and it satisfied Mouri’s pettiness. Gradually he shook his head, “You seem distracted…”

“Sometimes adults have complex thoughts.”

“Is it a case?” Conan pressed with a hopeful eagerness. He’d been pouting most of the morning, slouched in the booth with his arms crossed, though Kogoro wasn’t sure why, and the possibility of something to do seemed to instantly excite him.

“It’s not a case,” Mouri replied, dashing the boy’s hopes.

He slunk back into the cushions, his feet dangling pathetically and his chin dipped into the collar of his shirt. “Oh.”

Pathetic.

“What’s your problem today?” Mouri relented to ask, setting the paper aside and leaning back.

“Nothing…”

“You know you shouldn’t WANT there to be cases,” Mouri patronized, “A case means someone committed a crime.”

Conan’s eyes flashed behind the lens of his glasses. “I don’t WANT there to be crime.”

“Then why do you seem so disappointed?”

“No reason.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and dipped even further in his seat. “I wonder how long the tournament is…”

Mouri rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have your Detective brat squad to loiter around with today?”

“They’re going to see the Kamen Yaiba movie.”

“You’re not?”

Conan shrugged. “I told them I was going to Ran’s karate tournament.”

Mouri frowned. This particular tournament, more of an exhibition that the Karate club had organized to get more members, was not open to public audience. Since it was a Saturday, and the school access was limited, attendance was restricted to Teitan High students only. Conan couldn’t go. And now it made sense why he was sulking. Because had he been Shinichi, he would be cheering Ran on, supporting her, being the kind of person she could depend upon… But he was forced, in yet another way, to let her down.

Sighing, Mouri drained the last of his coffee. “Maybe after we eat we can walk over there, then,” he found himself saying, “Maybe we can sneak in.”

Conan’s head bobbed up at this, undisguised surprise clearly painted across his features. “You want to go, too?”

He grunted. “I have a lot to make up to her, too.”

[accursedkaleeshi]

I was procrastinating on two pieces so hard I drew something else. Here is Ayaan! Daddy's little droidsmith, the chatterbox herself.

650 words about getting her ingdore under the cut!

At the start of the clone wars Nute Gunray (salty that Grievous stole his flagship) & San Hill (just a sociopath) convinced Dooku to let them send a small attachment of droids to "capture" Bryaru. Dooku had just killed her father to put his own guy in his gracious Separatist senate spot & Dooku was aware that a particular few of Grievous' wives were befittingly temperamental. So he was like "you idiots can try but don't let that shit come back to me"

So like a handful of B1s & a couple B2 battle droids are deployed in the general area they knew GG's house was. They lost a couple droids to the jungle but showed up the compound. The last time droids were there it was to escort the wives to Hill’s cruiser so they could behold their 87% dead husband. The poor stupid B1 in charge barely got out a jovial “Hello-!” before Mertenzi put a harpoon through it.

The flimsy B1s didn’t stand a chance. The B2s were harder to take down, however. Seeing their mothers puzzling how to proceed with minimal rocket damage to their family & property, Ìgira had just the plan.

Ìgira (12 years old) & Ayaan (7 years old) escaped hearth lockdown to run to dad’s workshop. Neither of them were very impressed. Why would they send droids to dad’s house? Their dad had been troubleshooting these same droids for Ayaan’s entire life. That was stupid. Two grown corporate lifeforms were about to lose their expensive battle bots to two wild space jungle kids.

Ìgira dug through his father’s old datapad. The Bank had always sent Grievous home with a prototype B2 super battle droid for “security”. Grievous did not like this & did not want the thing on his planet. So, naturally, he had a list of commands it would take to render it inert & leave it in his ship.

Ìgira found these commands & gave them to Ayaan, whereupon they booked it back to the front of the compound. One B2 had its wrist rockets trained on the nearby asiil pen, assessing chicken threat levels. The other was repeating its primary objective to the mothers hunkered in the foyer. Mertenzi shrieked when she saw two of her children standing out it the open. Ìgira gave her thumbs up. It was not comforting.

He seemed very sure of this plan. Not only was Ayaan the chattiest of all his siblings, she knew how to read out technical jargon. And she was very loud. It would be easy. As long as these droids still accepted vocal command prompts. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that said feature might have been dropped for security concerns.

“Unit!” Ayaan had barked in a very Grievous-like manner, “State primary objective!” There was a very tense couple of seconds while the mothers that did not understand Basic were baffled as to why their small child was yelling at these droids. The B2 at the door stopped its diatribe, did an about left & restarted its directive from the top. This included its designation. Ayaan was able to use its designation to issue a standby command, which was a long string of numbers & letters. That was when she learned, around the same time as clones around the galaxy, that a B2 super battle droid was only as good as its commander.

While Ayaan bossed the other droid into standby, Mertenzi had reloaded & demolished the first with her harpoon gun. Ìgira & Ayaan managed to convince moms to let them shut down & dismantle the second one after Ayaan asked it a hundred questions, as children do. Ayaan’s ingdoré is made from this droid. It took her quite a while to grow into. She still tried to wear it around sometimes. It made a very satisfying gong sound when she ran into doorjambs.

[jacksdinonuggets]

Alador is a good carer!

Here is the story you guys voted on.

Ever since the Blight children came out to their father as age regressors, Alador made sure he would be a better dad to them. They had come out to him after the whole Belos thing and he was actually pretty excited. He would now be able to regive his children a proper childhood dad. He never played catch with Edric, or let Emira put make-up on his face. Alador knew he was a deadbeat but he wanted to change. 

However, after a couple of times, he realized that they tend to do it together a lot. Sure, they had regressed separately multiple times but they mostly did it together. They also all used/needed Little gear when in littlespace. And usually, they didn't have a place to put it all except their closets. Amity kept all of her gear in a bag but it was starting to overflow (Alador likes to spoil them) and Emira kept hers in her closet but Edric… his room just had little stuff scattered. There were pacifiers, sippy cups, onesies, and toys all over the floor. The only thing that wasn’t on the floor was Ed’s diapers. He occasionally wore them but was pretty embarrassed about them so he made sure they were out of sight. 

So Alador realized that the kids needed a place for their little gear and a place to regress at. He knew Amity didn’t like regressing in her room as it felt very mature. Emira didn’t mind where she did it but preferred not being in her room. So with Odalia being gone and new spaces opening up in the house, Alador decided he would build them a playroom. His Ex-wife used to have an office space with two rooms in it. And he knew that that room would be a perfect place.

There was just one problem. He wanted this to be a surprise. It would be hard to be in his kids' lives while trying to build this, So he asked for Eda’s help. She was a caregiver like him and was open to help distract the kids while he worked on it, or she work on it while he bonds with them.

They first needed to paint the main room. He decided to make it a plain, baby blue wall. Next came the flooring, which he just put foam, rainbow, floor puzzle pieces covering the majority of the room. A couple toy chests were placed up against the wall. The small room that connected to it would be a napping room. It would be a quiet, cozy room with three beds with retractable bars for the sides. 

After a week of non-stop working, Eda and Alador soon finished it. They added in a small counter and cabinets as well. So one afternoon, he finally got the three of them together so he could surprise them.

“I have a special surprise for you three,” He told them.

“Ooh, what is it?” Edric asked.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!” Alador smiled. 

“Then when can we see it?!” Emira excitedly questioned. 

“Right now, follow me,” He gestured for them to follow, which they all did. Amity had to put her book down but she had to admit, she was a bit excited too.

They followed him to the playroom door. He couldn’t wait to see their reactions. As he opened the door, and the kids saw the room, they gasped in glee. Amity ran over to the rocking chair in the corner that had a rug in front of it and a small bookshelf next to the chair. She saw a new collection of children’s books. 

“Oh my titan!” she squealed. 

Edric explored the toy chest and found new toys and gadgets. 

“Woah!” he gaped. 

“Is this all for us?!” He asked happily

“Mhm! And, i’ve already put your little gear in an organized way,” He gestured to the cabinet and counter.

“This is where all of your sippy cups, pacifiers, diapers, bottles, and teethers are,” 

Emira looked in them and saw that everything was there. They were also all cleaned too. 

Amity flapped her hands and giggled, unable to keep her positive emotions in. she just needed to move around!

“Also, all of your onesies, little clothes, and cloth diapers will be in the closet in the napping room,” he opened the door to the other, smaller room. The kids excitedly tried out the beds and the retractable sides. Emira checked out the closet next and it was full of the comfiest clothes. 

“Thank you so much!” Amity ran into Alador’s waist, hugging him. The twins joined in on the hug as well.

“You three are welcome, after all, you guys deserve it,” He ruffled each of their hairs. 

“Can we regress now?” Emira asked with puppy eyes. Alador nodded and all of them cheered, happy and ecstatic. After Alador made sure to change them all into gear before caring for them as they spent time having fun.

[talesfromthegameff14]

Once

Once, Aya would have watched his mate swaying through the motions of cooking dinner.  He would have gazed upon the man adoringly as sun filtered through the kitchen windows to sparkle in the dark golden curls that ran down the Seeker’s back.  Were those curls longer now?  Were they neat or messy?  Were they still damp from an earlier bath or had they dried into ringlets to bounce perfectly in sync with Tolemy’s movements?  Once, he would have seen the boy balanced on his mate’s hip.  He would have smiled to himself as their youngest dozed against the shorter man, the babe only content when he was held.  What was the toddler doing now?  Was he watching dinner being made or was he busy tangling the tawny curls up into helpful braids that would have to be gently combed out at the end of the day?  How much bigger was he? Did his hair match either of his parents? How about his eyes? 

Once, Aya would have joined his son while Mede fit the pieces together of the newest puzzle Melody had gifted him on the floor by the table nearby.  He would have used the silent gestures of hunt speak to follow the boy’s thoughts as he worked out the problem before him.  Was he working on a new puzzle or redoing an old one?  What pictures did Mede favor now?  Was he quicker at putting the puzzles together or was he doing ones with more and smaller pieces?  Did he miss the conversations as much as Aya did?  Did he know that the man loved him as much as always?   Once, he would have poked Terbish with his tail as she snuck about the area trying to be sneaky.  At least some things hadn’t changed, Aya’s tail flicking out to do just that as she tried to come around the edge of the counter to swipe a roti off the platter before it made it to the table for the meal.  He didn’t see the grin aimed up at him when no scolding came for sneaking an early snack, but he did hear the thwap of a far fluffier tail impacting the girl’s hand just hard enough to make her fumble the bread so she had to think fast to catch it before it hit the ground. Now, Aya followed the ebb and flow of family life through the sounds of living and the colors of their souls.  He could see how Nekhi’s inner self was constantly changing as the toddler grew every day.  He could feel the warmth of Tolemy’s body as the man walked by with the fragrant tray of curried dzo that caused the xaela’s stomach to rumble in anticipation. He could take the tray of roti and fruit off of the counter before Terbish got to it all and count the steps to the table to set it down for family dinner. Now, he could ruffle Mede’s ears gently to pull the boy’s attention from his puzzle and to signal that it was time to eat instead of time to play.  He could take his turn holding Nekhi, so Tolemy could eat the meal he made in peace and not have to juggle the attention seeking geko’te and his food.  He could relax into the seat and do his best to not wince whenever Nekhi grabbed a horn to pull himself up closer to Aya’s face to plant a kiss on his father’s cheek.  Now, Aya had the life he always wanted in the cold, unforgiving nights spent alone in the depths of the Uyagir caves, or hiding in a bush on the steppes, or huddling in a cleft of a rock waiting for a Garlean patrol to go by.  It wasn’t how he dreamed it would be.  There was no watching the sunrise over the Ruby Sea with Tolemy in his arms.  There was no way to admire the drawings hung on the kitchen cabinets and see how they changed year to year.  He couldn’t compliment Terbish on whatever outrageous color combination she put together to wear or get lost in the beauty of Tolemy’s eyes when before they cuddled up for a nap while the kids did the same.  Now, that he’s healed? Aya can’t find the bitterness that once plagued him, for he has love to hold tight to every day.  He can’t see it, but he can feel it and hear it and know it within his soul. For once, it’s enough. 

[Tolemy is written by @ala-mhinyan]

[2oranges]

Hi Friday. 👋 What did you think of the last genshin update?

HI DORIAN !! IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS.. im puttingn this under a readmore because it is VERY. Very. very long ^.^

if u mean 4.0, then i think i'd say overall it was really fun. my favorite parts of genshin are exploring + doing puzzles + learning lore so i ate that update UP!!! the new puzzles are super satisfying and just the right amount of difficult.

as for the main story, i don't have a whole bunch to say other than there were times where the traveler made decisions that didn't really fit what we have learned from them in the past, esp with the whole part where they didn't trust lyney + his siblings for being fatui. i guess it's more of a trust thing / about them hiding it?? i also really wish they delved a bit more into Why furina puts up such a huge act, because that isnt explained in 4.0 Or 4.1's quests. maybe 4.2 will tell! i also really loved navia. i think she's one of my favorite characters despite my. near-constant show of love for neuvillette.. i like that she is still actively processing things because we can already start to see her perspectives shift as the quests progress.

as for any side quests, ann of narzissenkreuz made me feel sort of hollow-empty but i tend to feel that way with the several-part quests before they reach their true end. i was definitely invested in that one..

all of the merusea village quests made me emotional as well because i just love the melusines to bits+pieces. aside from mamere i think my favorite quest was where we helped the melusines make a little cake/pie of sorts.

lyney's story quest made me cry and it really cemented the though that he *is* me (/srs) because of. well. the everything. i'd rather you see his quest / read his character stories for yourself because it's a bit hard to explain when it hits so close to home.

um. as for 4.1. i think exploring is still so fun in fontaine. i love all the new enemies + again the puzzles are soo fun :3

however the archon quest seemed to really drag on for this patch.. i think that was intended but at times i definitely had to take breaks and do other stuff because it just seemed to carry on endlessly. also. i don't really like that the fortress of meropide essentially relies on the prison industrial complex that exists in real life- not because it's bad to include real life issues and events in video games, but because it. is not really frowned upon in any way / is encouraged at times?

i really liked the fontaine research institute quest but i. don't like the main characters. lmfao

neuvillette's story quest made me feel like i got hit by a bus + then tried to stand up but then i got ran over by a semi truck. before this update i was already very emotional over how much he seems to value his people + their feelings + beliefs despite having to uphold "justice" in its truest form, as well as. well. the melusines as a whole. i'm not going to get into it very much bc idk how much of the quests you've done, but i. also cried several times over this one. lol.

i'm hoping wriothesley's story quest will be just as good because his character story leaks have made me emotional because i can heavily relate to it, but. well. who knows.

i think overall these two updates have made me feel so so strongly for navia, neuvillette, and sigewinne. i don't exactly know what to expect from 4.3 + onwards!!!

[autolenaphilia]

System Shock

The original System Shock, developed by Looking Glass Studios and released in 1994 is a classic game. It’s a hard to categorize game, especially at the time. At its core it’s a first-person-shooter, but it got elements of a puzzle-adventure game with an emphasis on exploration that reminds me of the metroidvania genre. It just recently in 2023 it got a full-fledged remake from the studio Nightdive, but let’s talk about the original DOS version.

And I did play the original DOS version. Nightdive released an “Enhanced Edition” that runs in modern Windows with improvements such as mouselook, but I had difficulties getting that game’s MIDI music to run on my Linux box. So I got the DOS “classic edition” from GOG and ran it in dosbox, complete with the original control scheme.

The game had an unusual elaborate plot for an action game at the time. It’s a proper cyberpunk-sci-fi story, set in the year 2072. The premise is explained in the intro cutscene. The player character is a computer hacker, who tries to hack into the systems of the Trioptimum megacorp, but gets caught within minutes. A corporate executive named Edward Diego does however offer the hacker a way out and gives him a job offer. The corporation owns a space station in a orbit around Saturn, named Citadel Station, controlled by the AI Shodan. If the hacker goes to Citadel, and hacks into Shodan and removes her ethical constraints, his charges will be dropped and he will be repayed with a “military-grade” neural implant. The hacker accepts and does the job for Diego.

The hacker gets put into a medical coma on Citadel to recover from the neural implant surgery. And when he wakes up six months later, you take control and begin the game. It’s here where System Shock reveals itself to be quite innovative in game storytelling. The intro, death and ending cutscenes are the only traditional cutscenes you get in this game. Instead this game’s story is told through exploration from an unbroken first-person perspective, four years before Half-Life.

There aren’t even the dialogue trees you had in rpgs and adventure games of the time. And that’s because once you wake up on Citadel Station, you’ll quickly find that pretty much everyone is dead, or will be when by the time you get to them. And the whole game takes place on Citadel Station. There is a lot of gore in this game, as you find dismembered bodies everywhere. Your character slept through a disaster.

Shodan has of course rebelled against humanity, and is turning Citadel’s research technology against her creators. She has aspirations to godhood, and wants to remake life to her own liking. Shodan has therefore turned humans into mindless mutants with bioweapons, or converted them into her cyborg slaves, or created pure metal robots. And she is aiming the station’s mining laser against earth cities and unleashing her bioweapons upon what’s left after that. To be fair to Shodan and her hubris, being able to design and create life and rain death from the heavens is pretty god-like. You of course has to stop her and save humanity.

The way you piece together this is by exploring and finding audio logs left behind by humans and even Shodan, scattered across the station. You also get voiced e-mails from people monitoring the situation back on Earth, and Shodan sends some threatening ones herself. This is a system of storytelling that is almost cliché nowadays but which System Shock pioneered back in 1994. And it’s very well implemented here. It’s a way of storytelling that is built around exploration, you find the story by exploring and you can keep exploring while you listen to the audio.

System Shock is usually seen as the progenitor of the genre of “immersive sim” and immersive it is.

The feeling of exploring the aftermath of a disaster, putting together what happened and how to fix it piece by piece is very compelling. It helps that you don’t have traditional objective system telling you what to do, instead you have to figure it out by listening carefully to all these audio logs.

The story isn’t original or that complex. But the way it’s told makes it actually engaging, because you have to piece it together yourself. And Shodan is such a great villain. Her writing and the voice acting of Terri Brosius, distorted through clever sound editing, is excellent and rightfully iconic and influential. Glados in the Portal gamestakes a lot from Shodan.

The level design is also built around exploration.. There are multiple levels of Citadel Station, and there is progression from one level to the next, but you can return to previous levels, and in fact the game requires you to backtrack at certain points. The levels are built so you can explore somewhat non-linearly. The game is in many ways a first-person metroidvania, where you explore a large interconnected map, filling in your own automap, finding tools and abilities as you go along, enabling you to explore further by accessing areas you couldn’t before.

Thanks to the neuroimplant, the hacker has access to various cybernetic hardware that give him superhuman abilities. So you can get a lantern installed to navigate dark areas, an envirosuit to resist bio contamination and radiation, a booster to run faster, and most importantly to access new areas, jetboots to float and fly. Your abilities drain electricity, which is their main limitation. You have to literally recharge your batteries to keep on using them, from Citadel’s power stations or portable batteries you can find. It’s a neat gameplay feature that give some power fantasy kicks without feeling too overpowered.

The immersion is helped by how the level design aspires to far greater realism than was common in non-adventure games at the time. Most game levels were pretty abstract and served often no purpose but to challenge the player. The mazes with monsters of Doom is a good example. Now the levels of System Shock are probably too maze-like for complete realism, but there is a clear sense that the game environments serve a in-universe purpose. Each level of Citadel station had a purpose for the people who once used it, there is a medical floor, a research floor, a maintenance floor, to name only the first three. And every texture in the game has a name that will appear if you click on it, which often explains its purpose.

And part of why Shodan is such a great villain is that she is literally integrated into the levels. Citadel Station is her body, she is the mind of the station, and you feel that she is omnipresent throughout the game. And she has turned it against you and has in fact already killed all the other humans within. She is watching you from her security cameras, and knows what you are doing. Shodan sometimes sends messages directly to you, mocking and threatening you. But she is still a presence even when she isn’t as direct. All the enemies and obstacles you face is her doing. Her image sometimes appears on computer screens randomly, probably just to freak you out.

And beyond sending enemies at you and setting traps, Shodan directly locks doors that prevent your progress. A major gameplay element is lowering Shodan’s control over each level, so that she can no longer block those doors. And you do that by smashing the security cameras and blowing up Shodan’s computer nodes, lowering the level’s “security level.” And once it’s gone or low enough, doors Shodan once locked can be opened.

It’s a major part of progressing through the game. Shodan calls the player character an insect, and playing the game you do feel like a computer bug she has, small and insignificant but messing up her plans and functioning. You are like the literal bug found in Harvard Mark II that may have caused the term computer bug to be coined. Or like a rat chewing at Shodan’s wires.

Now this immersive storytelling is partially possible because System Shock was such a technologically innovative game.

System Shock’s engine was a technical marvel at the time, because it was an engine for a first-person shooter with full-fledged, actual 3D. The back cover calls it “the gaming world's first true 3-D simulation.” Doom had come out the year before, but it was a kind of fake 3D, where “room over room” multi-level structures are not possible. System Shock’s producer Warren Spector actually coined the term “2.5D��� in a contemporary interview to describe his games competitors like Doom.

And Spector was right to brag a bit, System Shock engine seems ahead of its time. We take it for granted today that if for example you have a bridge in a 3D game you can both walk on it and under it, but being able to do so in System Shock was impressive in 1994. The only thing not fully 3D is that enemies and objects are 2D sprites but it’s well-implemented.

The full 3D engine allows for a pretty much unprecedented freedom of movement compared to games at the time. You can look up and down, you can lean and look around corners, you can crouch and go prone to get into tight spaces. Nowadays this is standard, but in 1994 revolutionary. Being able to go vent-crawling or taking shots from cover by leaning around a corner was really new. Gordon Freeman learned to vent-crawl from the System Shock hacker.

The control system does shows its age though. There is no mouselook. Instead you control the camera entirely with the keyboard, you press R to look up, F to center your view, and V to look down. You can’t rebind the keys in the original DOS version, which also means you are stuck with ASDX for movement (A=forward, A and D= turn left and right, X= backward, and Z and C to strafe left and right). This game came before WASD became the standard, although interestingly it uses Q and E for the lean function, leaving W as the only letter key in that part of the keyboard without a movement binding.

The game also came with one of the largest and most elaborate HUDs to ever grace a first-person-shooter. Instead of mouselook, you can move the cursor into the HUD to operate it. The HUD is actually quite useful once you understand how it works, it’s how you use your cybernetic abilities, but getting that understanding is the difficulty

The movement system is definitely useable, but it’s awkward. The controls and HUD have been compared to playing an operating system. There have been a lot of fanmade ports like System Shock Portable and Shockolate, the official Enhanced Edition and the recent remake, all to fix the original game’s control scheme by adding mouselook and WASD controls.

Still, you can become accustomed to and proficient at the original control scheme if you put the effort in, I did. It is in fact like learning a new OS, but that’s doable.

And even if you don’t become proficient, you can adjust the difficulty. And System Shock’s difficulty settings are unique. You can adjust the difficulty on different game elements, combat, puzzles, plot and cyberspace, independently of each other. You can make this into essentially a point-and-click adventure game by turning puzzles difficulty up and combat difficulty all the way down. Or a pure run-and-gun shooter by turning up combat and removing plot and puzzle difficulty. It’s such a flexible system that you can turnSystem Shockinto a clone of Beneath a Steel Sky or Doom depending on your tastes.It’s a great difficulty system where each player can create a game challenge suited to their tastes.

Even the combat has an interesting and forgiving mechanism: the restoration bays. They are medical machines, one per every level of the station, that can revive people from near-death. Shodan however has converted them into machines that turn people into her cyborg slaves. But thanks to the work of another resistance member, you can flip a switch on each level to turn the machines back into revival machines. When you die on a level where you flipped the switch on the machine, Shodan’s robots will drag you to the machine to turn you into a cyborg, but the machine revives you instead. So you can die on that level without any serious penalty once that switch is flipped. If you die before that switch is flipped, you get a game-over cutscene of being turned into a cyborg. You have to find the machine and its switch on each level before you are safe.

I played it as an adventure game, where the only dangers were environmental hazards. But I could tell that the gunplay in this game is satisfying if you play it as a shooter, despite the awkward controls. The lean system allows you to take cover, and there is a rich variety of guns with satisfying animations and noises, and the death animations of the enemies are also enjoyable.

I do recommend turning the cyberspace difficulty all the way down. It’s probably the most splashy, but also the most awkward to actually play gameplay element of System Shock. It’s essentially a minigame where you use your neural implant to hack computer systems. And the way the game portrays this is you flying around a flashing wireframe environment running into floating blocks and shooting things at enemies. You have full free 3d movement, like the Descent series.It looks cool, but the controls are awkward and floaty. And it’s a pain to navigate the wireframes. And the developers clearly knew that, since they put gigantic arrows pointing you in the right direction. I have no regrets about making enemies non-aggressive and having a generous timelimit to it.

The fact that the final boss battle against Shodan takes place in cyberspace is part of why it disappoints. Going into cyberspace to navigate an annoying wireframe maze to find Shodan’s cyberspace avatar and shoot at it until it dies is such a disappointing ending. After a whole game where the player has been fighting Shodan in more indirect and more interesting ways, just shooting at her cone form until she dies is not that engaging. The ending cutscene essentially is just a joke too.

Still, if the ending is disappointing, it’s because it’s very hard to end such a great game satisfactory. This is a hard game to describe, because the gameplay and storytelling mechanics are so complex and varied, which is why this review is a bit rambling. There is so much to talk about, and it’s all interconnected. It’s a game that allows for such freedom in how it is played that the player is given the tools to make their own game, make their own way through Citadel station. It’s such an intelligently designed immersive experience that is remarkably advanced for 1994. And it has one of the greatest villains in all of video games. Hail SHODAN.

[huntershowl-moving]

SHE TRIED.

PERSEPHONE DOES THEIR BEST NOT TO conjure images when they are told of things like this. their form of listening is active, present, focused on reading body language and subtle cues — it isn't necessarily about what happened, but how what happened affected them. orion was, is, the opposite. he thinks like an artist, in sweeping imagery and parallels between color and music and mood. somehow, it worked between them.

so she does not visualize the bright-eyed little boy he might have been: it isn't fair to him to speculate, and it would only break her heart.

here, persephone watches izuku's face. watches the tension in his shoulders, his brows, the tug at the corners of his mouth. it's hard not to be struck by the beauty of him in moments like this, when she is hyperaware of every one of his features, but admiration falls to the wayside quickly in favor of something darker, cautious, worried. she tried, but...?

they resist the urge to sigh. getting straight answers out of izuku midoriya is like pulling teeth. every time she presses about one thing, he leaves another thing unsaid, implied, the ghost of a finished thought. it reminds her of fletch, the way every sentence they speak has two, three, four separate meanings — they never expect their conversation partner to catch them all. maybe it's a crime lord thing.

seph doesn't press further this time, but she holds it in the back of her mind like a seed in dry soil. they made a promise. whether or not izuku would call her out if she went back on her word, persephone aisa does not go back on her word. instead, she tries to put together sentences in her head like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, silent as she stares at her steaming bowl, rearranging them over and over again until something makes sense. ❝ now — ❞ a pause. ❝ my end of the bargain. ❞

outside, the first drops of rain begin to patter on the window.

❝ we were picked up by the unseen when we were ten. lived on the streets for a few years before that. ❞ she doesn't mention the home they ran away from. another time. ❝ we knew about the tower, but we didn't meet 'em until we were nineteen — and we'd had enough. this shit was only supposed to be a few odd jobs here and there to keep us fed, and somehow we'd been roped in way too deep. they sent us to UA as spies — i had to balance saving people at school with killing people away from it. then they pulled us out before we could graduate... cut us off from our friends. ❞

she thinks of shouta and hizashi. thinks of them losing oboro, then the twins vanishing off the face of the earth, and the guilt rushes back in just as strong as it always was. ❝ few years later, we'd just... had enough. i didn't want to hurt people anymore. so i convinced ori to escape with me. long story short, stupid plan, the tower found out. kept us awake, ripped my arms off, took his eye. separated us. ❞

the words are brutal, but her tone is not. when you've been killing people since you were ten years old, your view of 'fucked up' shifts just a touch. seph pokes at the untouched bowl with the tip of their spoon. ❝ ori got sent to the OT wing of the hospital, and fletch took me on as a project. recovery with them personally, every step of the way. they helped me relearn everything with the new prosthetics — fighting first, as a reminder that weapons are only as good as their edge. then the rest. ❞

again, there isn't a trace of bitterness in her tone. stranger still, just at the edges, there is a wraithlike drift of reverence to her words. ❝ there's something to be said for being broken down and rebuilt as something new. i owe them everything. ❞

Izuku carries no expectations. It’s easier this way, and whether the story he tells, shall he decide to tell it, brings a shock or a blessed acceptance, or anything else or in between, he can take it as it comes.

Tonight it’s shadows under his eyes that, as they always do, seem too dark to be cast by his eyelashes alone, and a nod. And that something in between that wouldn’t often come; is it because he has never shared a tale as peculiarly intimate, or because of whom he’s told? But then Persephone offers to weave that thread of understanding around their hands, not red or black and definitely not yellow, and it pushes a laugh out of his throat. A snort really, choked out in astonishment for the unreality of this situation and this development as a whole, and the bubble of solemnity breaks.

“Of course I don’t,” the man shakes his head, and the shadow of a portent transform into a mundane, a silhouette of a smile that persists in his tone and on his features. “I lived with my mom, remember?”

The implications can be many, but Occam’s razor demands a reason easiest to accept, and it goes as follows: it was a simple life that Izuku has lived before everything went to shit. A confirmation soon follows: “I went to a normal school, lived in an apartment building… these things,” the villain sums up with a shrug. “But my mother was kind, and she tried to raise me to be kind as well.” And again, there can be more than one conclusion to his words, but this time more than one could be true at the same time. One: Midoriya Inko tried, and she succeeded. Two: she tried but failed. Three: she tried, and… ?

There is an image of a little boy engraved in the back of Izuku’s mind, red, weeping blood, but the pain of a seeping wound is a good thing. It helps him remember. The boy has bright eyes and an even brighter smile, collects cards, and has big dreams. The boy grows up and sadder. The boy jumps off a roof.

The boy is now a grown man, and he sets the chopsticks away to rub at his eyes. “What now?” He asks. It’s nearly conversational, no rush and no prodding at the other. It’s like he said; he doesn’t need to swap stories with Persephone to tell them about his father, but if they want to, he’s all ears whatever they decide to tell him in turn. If they don’t, he can be all silence with them, together.

Together.

[thruheavenandhighwater]

I kinda need a little something with Robin including the 'keep it. it looks better on you.' starter

Aaahhhhhhhh this was so fun!! Thank you for the request, darling 💕 Also, I know you said little but at this point I hope you understand the fact that I'm a Virgo and therefore have the Too Much Gene. Enjoy 🥰

~~~~~

You couldn't have asked for a better first date. Chinese food and a movie at Starcourt simply could not be beat. Top it all off with the fact that your companion for the evening was Robin Buckley, and you had a recipe for the best day ever. 

You were a nervous wreck the entire time. You'd been out with Robin countless times in the past, but when she had mentioned the word "date" you felt your heart skip a beat. 

She was perfect. But you expected nothing less. You giggled, your cheeks warming when she'd called herself "a perfect gentleman" as she held the door to the movie theater open for you. 

"My own personal knight in shining armor," you'd agreed, the smile on your face growing. 

You struggled to focus on the movie. The smell of her perfume clouded your thoughts any time you tried. Just knowing that she was so close to you had your palms clammy as you picked up your drink in an attempt to stop your hands from shaking. 

At one point, about halfway through the movie, you felt her fingers ghosting over yours. Her fingertips were so soft against your skin that for a moment you were sure you'd imagined it. But then her fingers slipped themselves between yours in one slow, fluid motion. 

You looked down to where your hands were now joined on the armrest between your seats. It felt like a dream, too good to be true. Your eyes trailed up her arm, to her face. She wore a wide grin and she started to rub her thumb over the back of your hand. 

She released your hand once the credits began to roll. You immediately missed her touch. She stood next to you and grinned as you stood to join her. 

"So," she started, digging her hands into the pockets of her jacket as you walked out of the theater. "What'd ya think?" 

"It was good," you sighed. "I think." You admitted sheepishly. 

"You think?" 

"Yeah, sorry," you laughed. "Was hard to concentrate." 

The way she laughed sent goosebumps up your arms. It was beautiful. Light and carefree, just like her. 

You both slowed to a stop when you approached the large glass doors at the front of the mall. It was pouring rain, and lightning struck in the distance. The sky was impossibly dark for 5 pm in August. 

"Shit," Robin groaned beside you. "You wanna hang out here or make a run for it?" You grabbed her hand, nodding as you stepped toward the door. As soon as you passed the threshold of the mall doors, you were sprinting hand in hand toward Robin's car. 

Both of you were soaked when you finally reached her car. Your t-shirt clung to your body and your jeans felt restrictive as you sat down in the passenger seat, the door slamming behind you. 

"That was fun" you panted. 

Robin laughed, her mouth wide open as her head fell back against her seat. You couldn't help but to think that it was the best sound in the world. She reached to your lap, taking your hand in hers as her laugh simmered to small giggles. 

"Sorry my lap is wet," you giggled. 

"Mine is, too, it's fine," she smiled over to you. A shiver ran down your spine suddenly. "You cold?" She asked.

"Kind of," you admitted. "But I'll be fine." 

She pulled her hand from yours and reached into the back seat of her car. She pulled a dark blue jacket covered in patches from the back. "Here," she said, pushing the jacket in your direction. 

You slipped the soft material over your shoulders quickly. It smelled like her. You'd never been more comfortable. 

She smiled as she started the car before putting it in drive. Her hand found yours again as she pulled away from the mall. Her hand fit so perfectly into yours. Like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

The drive to your house felt too short. You knew you'd miss her the moment you stepped out of her car. You savored the few minutes that you had with her hand in yours. 

When she parked in front of your house the rain had diminished into sprinkles. "This was fun," she said quietly, turning to you. 

"Yeah," you agreed. 

"We uh- we should maybe do this again." 

Your stomach did somersaults. "Definitely." Was all you could manage to say. You didn't trust your voice in that moment, excitement coursing through your system. 

"Should probably let you go before your dad starts flipping on the porch light," she giggled. You looked back to where your hands were still clasped in your lap. She slowly lifted your hands to her lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "Goodnight," she whispered. You felt your body turn to Jello under her touch. The moment her lips met your skin, you knew you were done for. 

You whispered a quiet goodnight before opening the car door. You stood from the car and removed Robin's jacket. You started to set it on the seat you'd just vacated. 

"Keep it," she told you. "It looks better on you than it ever will on me." 

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from grinning so much. But you loved it. You nodded, your gaze falling to the ground before you closed the door, turning towards your home. 

Once you were in your bedroom, you quickly changed and slipped Robin's jacket over your shoulders. You pulled the collar to your nose, breathing in her scent. It was something you hoped you'd never get enough of. 

You really couldn't have asked for a better first date. 

[dreamypqulson]

— haunting of soullessness cellar

requested by @cordeliass: maybe billie filming another halloween special and something ~spooky~ happens and reader comforts billie??

pairing: billie dean howard x reader

word count: 1000

You sat on the couch while Billie’s voice sounded throughout the four walls of your living room. It was Billie’s annual halloween special for her show. She had always done it live, and you didn’t mind; you just stayed home and passed out candy anyways.

The doorbell rang for what could’ve been the millionth time that night. It’s not that you minded passing out candy. You loved seeing the cute kids in their costumes; they reminded you of the future that you’ll have with Billie. But getting up off the couch every five minutes was aggravating when you just wanted to watch your girlfriend on the screen.

You opened the door and put some candy into two little kids pumpkin baskets. You conversated with the parents for a couple of minutes. They lived around the neighborhood and were always good to Billie and you. Eventually, their children got antsy and dragged them away.

By the time you got back to the couch, there was an entirely different show playing; halloween specials that they play every year. You checked the clock, puzzled. It was only eight thirty and Billie’s show didn’t end until nine.

You checked the channel to make sure one of your cats didn’t just step on the remote and switch it. When you realized that it was, in fact, on the correct channel, you decided to call Billie.

Your phone rang a few times, you hoped you weren’t interrupting anything. After a few rings, she had picked up. You heard heavy, uneven breathing on the other side of the phone. You immediately panicked.

“Hello? Billie? What’s going on?”

She didn’t answer for a few seconds that must’ve felt like hours. But then a raspy voice rang in your ear, “I— I don’t know. I’m on my way home now. I can’t stop shaking. I—”

“Billie, calm down, honey. Breathe. I need you to breathe for me.” You were terrified that she would get into a wreck. Even more aggravated that she didn’t call you and have you pick her up instead of getting in the car at the clearly wrong state of mind.

She took a few deep breathes and began again, this time sounding near to tears, “The show— I just— I left. We all ran out. Something went terribly wrong.”

“What do you mean, Billie?” You tried your best to keep your composure, but the fear was eating you alive. You were afraid that she wasn’t going to make it home in one piece. You didn’t know what happened.

“I’ll tell you when I get home. I’m right down the street, darling.” You heard her sniffle through the phone, her voice hardly audible through tears.

“O— Okay, Billie. Please drive slow, and be careful. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

The call ended and everything felt eerily silent. Even with a background show playing and your cats purring beside you on the couch. You placed your hand against your chest, feeling it accelerating against your palm.

And you sat just like the for a couple of minutes until you heard another knock at the door. You would’ve thought it was another trick-or-treater if you hadn’t heard Billie’s car door.

You jumped up around the couch and swung the door open without wasting any time. You could hardly see Billie as she collapsed into your arms. You felt her wet tears against your neck.

“Shhh. I’m here. It’s okay,” You whispered, what triggered her still unbeknownst to you. “It’s okay, Billie.” You rubbed your hand against her back, her silk blouse moving with your palm.

Her body stayed tense and hard, nearly as if she were unable to move. Afraid that something terrible would happen if she did. So you made the first move for her. “Billie talk to me, what’s wrong, baby?”

You gently pulled her back, arms still secured around her waist to make her feel protected. Nobody could hurt her in your arms. “I— I don’t even know. It all happened so fast. We were at the haunted house and I was trying to talk to the mother that died there. A— And then,” Billie began to choke up again. You pushed some hair out of her face to give her some time.

“—And then she pushed me down the stairs, right into the basement. I’m okay, I’m not hurt at all. Somehow— I don’t know. And the door just shut. It locked and my crew couldn’t get in. No matter what they did. I could feel her all around me. It was so dark and there were things falling off shelves,” Billie took a deep breath, “Eventually, they kicked the door open. We all just rang out of the house and didn’t look back.”

You stared wide-eye at Billie as she explained her story. You never understood how she had so much courage to visit these house, let alone talk to the spirits. You knew she would continue even after this occurrence.

“Jesus, Billie. I looked away from the tv for a few minutes and all that happens,” you talk with an utmost soft voice and run your fingers through her hair to soothe her. Her bottom lip begins to tremble and so you pull her back into a hug. That’s when she breaks down again. “You’re safe now. It’s okay, honey. You’re safe.”

“W— What if I didn’t get out. You would’ve been all—”

“Shush. None of that. Don’t work yourself up over the what if’s,” you say. She takes a deep breathe to clear her head. “You are safe now. You are home. With me. And we are going to enjoy the rest of the night, alright? I’ll help you forget all about that if you want?”

She pulls back again to look at you, biting down on her lip so hard that it turns completely white. “I would like that very much, babydoll.” She leans in closer, grabbing ahold of you lips. You gently press her body against the front door, running your hand under her blouse.

Then a knock disturbs the moment. You both chuckle, “Maybe it’s time to turn the front lights off.”

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