#except this one is a lot better in a lot of ways

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie seemed to have zero impulse control when he's not actively thinking about it. After Vecna Eddie moved in with Steve because he and Wayne didn't have a new place yet, plus, Wayne was living out of a motel. It was not a place for someone with wounds like his. Also, he was still waiting to be cleared of all charges. Steve was well enough to take care of Eddie. The metalhead was still in a lot of pain and on as many painkillers as he was allowed the first time that it happened. Steve was leaning over to fluff his pillows, and his lips were close to Eddie's face. It was all Steve’s fault, really. Eddie was thinking about how pretty his lips were when he decided to grab Steve by the back of the neck.

"What are - MMHH!"

Eddie brought his lips to his, and it was the sweetest kiss that Steve had ever experienced. It had left his lips feeling all tingly. Steve could easily pass it off on the fact that Eddie was high, and that was exactly what he did do. He never brought it up or told anyone about it. . .not even Robin. He really couldn't ignore it, though, when it happened a second time.

Eddie was feeling a lot better and could move around the house a lot more. Steve had finally been able to cook dinner for the both of them after living off other people's cooking and takeout while they both healed. They had finished eating when Eddie lumbered over to him and spun him around, cupping his face.

"That was the best home-cooked meal I've ever eaten - MUAH!" Eddie exclaimed, kissing him square on the mouth. "You go settle down. I'll handle the clean-up, big boy."

Steve had frozen a little. Surely, Eddie knew what he was doing? Since he hadn't brought it up, Steve decided not to bring it up either. . .except when it happened a third time. Eddie was completely healed, and he was able to be let out of the house since he was he officially cleared of all charges. He wanted to meet up with Corroded Coffin at Gareth's since they refused to come over to Steve's house despite the fact that Steve had told them they were welcome anytime. Even though he understood where they were coming from, it still stung that they refused to even try to get to know him. Anyways, Eddie was on his way out the door except for the fact that his keys were lying on the counter.

"Hey, did you forget something?" Steve asked.

"Oh, right," Eddie said, twirled around and kissed him while scooping up the keys. Then he was gone.

Okay, he really couldn't ignore it this time. Steve really needed to talk to someone about the kisses and about how much he liked them. He needed to know what that meant, and he knew exactly what kind of conversation this would turn out to be.

"Eddie keeps kissing me," Steve said as soon as Robin got in the car.

"I'm sorry, what?" Robin said, blinking.

"You know how Eddie's really affectionate," Steve replied. "Does it bother you when he kisses you?"

"Oh, you mean like kissing on the forehead and the cheek? No, I think it's sweet, actually," Robin said and rolled her eyes. "Are you feeling a little insecure in your masculinity because a man is getting a little affectionate with you?"

"What?! No, I don't mind getting affection from a man, Robin. You know I hug Argyle all the time," Steve said. "I'm just wondering why Eddie kisses me on the mouth and he doesn't do that with anyone else."

"Stop the car!" Robin screamed, and Steve pulled over the side, parking the car.

"Jesus, Robin!" Steve exclaimed.

"Eddie's been kissing you on the MOUTH?!" Robin asked.

"Yeah. He doesn't do that with you?" Steve asked.

"No, I think that's a treat only for you," Robin said.

"But why? We're both straight," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not trying to complain or anything, it's nice but why is he doing it?"

"You like it when he kisses you?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "If I were into men, I'd be asking him on a date, but I'm not gay, Robin. . .well, maybe just for Eddie. Is it possible to be gay just for one person?"

"I mean, maybe, but I doubt that it's the case here," Robin said. "Usually, I would probably let you figure this out for yourself, but considering how long you kept it hidden that you like Nancy Drew, it might just take a while. . .do I have permission to rip off the band-aid?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess," Steve asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, how the hell were you so sure about Vickie and completely clueless about yourself?" Robin asked.

"Are you still on it that I totally called it about Vickie being a lesbian before you did?" Steve asked.

"She's not a lesbian, dingus," Robun said.

"Okay, I was pretty sure that you two were dating. Robin, she's clearly into you, so I'm pretty sure you have a shot," Steve said.

"Yeah, we are dating but she's not a lesbian," she said.

"I'm so confused," Steve said.

"In more ways than one," Robin said.

"Robin, we're going to be late for work," Steve said.

"Vickie is a bisexual," Robin said. "She likes more than one gender."

"Oh. . .oh, like David Bowie!" Steve exclaimed. "Right?!"

"Right," Robin said.

"Oh my god!" Steve said. "My Tom Cruise obsession suddenly makes sense - I didn't want to be him - "

"Not to mention, all those times you've stared openly at Eddie along with his posters of Eddie Van Halen and Kirt Hammel. . . "

"Kirk Hammett, Robin," Steve scoffed. "Eddie would rip you a new one for getting that one wrong."

"But you knew it because Eddie did," Robin said.

"I like him," Steve said with wide eyes.

"Yeah, buddy. Are you going to need a minute?" Robin said.

"Nah, I'm fine. I actually feel really good about it," Steve grinned.

"Not even a little freak out?" She asked.

"Nope!"

"Lucky bitch," Robin muttered.

"I'm sorry, the next time I have a realization about myself, I'll make sure to give you the freak out that you deserve," Steve said.

"That's all I'm asking," Robin said.

They spent the morning shift talking about Eddie and what he'd say to him once he got home. Steve debated on giving him flowers or not, or a stuff animal. He decided on a stuffed animal because that was more permanent, as Robin had pointed out. They were just about to take their break for lunch when Eddie strolled in.

"Hey," Steve said brightly. "I was just thinking about you."

"Yeah?" Eddie asked and leaned against the counter. "That's good to know."

Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. This time, Steve responded to it, cupping Eddie's face as he deepened the kiss. He could feel Eddie smile against his lips. Steve heard Robin scrambling to lock the front door and close the newly installed blinds. Eddie wrapped his arms around him, nearly climbing over the counter to do it. Finally, Robin coughed loudly and they broke apart.

"Hi," Steve said breathlessly.

"Hi," Eddie said. "I got something for you."

He climbed over the counter and sat down in front of him. He pulled out a rock and handed it to Steve.

"It looks like a guitar pick," Steve said with a grin.

"I thought you could use it for good luck," Eddie said.

"That's very sweet, thank you," Steve said, blushing. "I'm going to keep it forever."

"So, your boyfriend did good?" Eddie asked.

"Boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I know we're taking things slow, but I was hoping that you'd consider me being your boyfriend," Eddie said.

"Yeah, uh, it's just - it might be the concussions, but I don't remember asking you out or you asking me out," Steve said.

"Oh, you definitely asked me out," Eddie said.

"Oh, God, Robin. The doctor said if I started having memory problems - " Steve said with wide eyes. "I'd definitely remember asking you out."

"Honey! I'm sure it's fine!" Eddie exclaimed. "Robin was there, she'll tell you!"

"I was NOT!" Robin yelled, her eyes going wide. "Or was I? Oh, god, what if I hit my head and I don't remember?! I'd remember my best friend asking out a man!"

"Okay, don't panic, Robin, we'll call Hopper - " Steve started to say.

"You really don't remember?!" Eddie shrieked.

"No!" Robin and Steve yelled.

"Seriously, Robin, you were there, and you turned into a giant duck which, by the way, is rude because you know about my fear of ducks!" Eddie yelled.

"Oh, Eddie, goddamnit, was this a dream?" Steve asked.

"You know what? Now that I'm thinking about it, I think it might have been a dream," Eddie said.

"Okay, those looks you've been giving me make a lot more sense," Robin said. "Have you been living in fear of me randomly turning into a duck, like I'm some sort of. . .wereduck?"

"I don't know, your name's Robin, and we've all been through crazy shit. . .anything is possible," Eddie said.

"Aww, and you've hugged me even though you're scared of ducks," Robin cooed.

"Well, it's my fear, my responsibility. It's not your fault," Eddie said and then looked at her. "But you're not, though, right?"

"No, Eddie," she said softly and then affectionately, "You dingus."

"This whole time. . .," Eddie trailed off. "We haven't actually been dating. You never asked me out."

Eddie started to scramble off of the counter when Steve grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Let's fix that. . .Eddie Munson, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Fuck yeah, I do," Eddie grinned.

He grabbed the back of Steve’s head and crashed their lips together. Eddie sighed and leaned his forehead against Steve’s.

"No one better fucking wake me up," Eddie breathed and Steve laughed.

"Oh God! I think my nose is turning into a bill - quack, quack!"

"Robin!"

[aro-absol]

[ID: A digital comic with a simple drawing style. It consists of long text that is accompanied by small drawings, matching what is said in the text. The text reads as follows: "I've always been a big reader. I was treating earlier and faster than most of my peers my whole childhood. [Three books: one is titled "Magic treehouse" and has the caption "kindergarten", one is titled "Harry Potter" and has the caption "first grade" and the last one is titled "Percy Jackson" and has the caption "third grade".] and my tastes have alwaystended towards the magical. fairytales, myths, and fantasy have been longtime favourites as far back as I can remember.

As I got older, my tastes didn't change all that much. They did expand, to being ok with things like horror, violence (and mild gore), death... As children's tastes tend to do. But I still loved fantasy stories just as much. When I hit eighth grade, however, they noticed a bit of a problem. I was getting a bit old for a lot of the middle-grade fiction books I liked. I thought: "Okay, sure! I've read adult-level books with no problem before, I'll just head for the fantasy section!" I asked a couple of friends for book recommendations, and culture reading except… [A drawing of many different scraps from books, all clearly from romantic and/or steamy scenes] ... All of it was just so stuffed with sex and romance. [A drawing of a person shaking their heads in disbelief and saying "ew" while reading the book, with an arrow pointing to them saying, "14 and very aro/ace"]

Needless to say, I did not want to read those books (and haven't to this day.) Thought bubble of the person just described continuing: okay, this is probably just my friend's stuff. I know they like these kinds of things. I'll just look for myself! [A drawing of a person standing in front of a big bookshelf that is labeled "young adult and teen fantasy". There are many different phrases pointing to the box on the shelf. The phrases read: "sex scene on the first page", "sex", "twilight", "romance "' subplot'", viscerally upsetting description of making out", "fade to black sex scene", "no sex but only technically", "sexy elves", essentially a romance really", "insane amounts of kissing".]... you gotta be kidding.

Over the years since then, I've tried to find fantasy stories that I can actually enjoy. [A drawing of a list titled "typically good". The bullet point read: D and D based (sex jokes but party focused), comics, fanfic, older media (pre-90s), MG fiction (last resort)] I've had some success at finding patterns that work for me, but a lot of these categories are very digital. (At least for me.) And because of that, all the time I once spent reading is now on my phone.

I don't really know where this is going, or what the solution is. Most people do like sex and romance, and reading about them. And this is just a thing for making a terrible comic day. I think it's pretty common for aro and/or ace people to feel left out, since so often these are treated as universal ideals. But to anyone feeling that way: I promise you are not alone. Also, allos: get better writing material, seriously. And better friends, since yours are apparently so terrible you can't write deeply meaningful relationships without kissing. (Half joking.) / End ID]

Note: this image description is not fully complete, as I left out some smaller drawings that I couldn't add into the text in a way that makes sense and weren't crucial for understanding. Also, I apologize if this description isn't clear to people who use screen readers but I do not know how to make it any better. If you have any suggestions, tell me please.

My (late) contribution for Make A Terrible Comic Day! I've been going to the library more often lately so this has been coming up a lot, cause I want something to read but have had trouble finding anything that I'm comfortable with.

If anyone has recommendations please please let me know because I am struggling.

[daisukesleftasscheek]

Dad!swansea reaction to reader also being on the tulpar or wtv that thing is called??tysm i love your ficss

ʚDAD!SWANSEA X GN!READERɞ

SUMMARY : working with your dad for pony express.

WARNINGS : SPOILERS!!! Jimmy, mention of suicide, injuries, slight Daisuke x reader.

WORD COUNT : 916

A/n : tysm I'm glad you liked my fics!

Click "Keep reading" for more!ʚɞ☟

- Swansea did not expect you to be on that tulpar with him.

- he did hear you talking about applying for a job, he just didn't expect it to be that one.

- well, now you were with him again.

- you were a chef and he was greatful for that since you were good at cooking.

- it actually made him feel a lot better to have you around.

- you were the usual you, just cracking up jokes, making silly doodles and making paper swans for him.

- and to Swansea's absolute horror, you and Daisuke clicked.

- he actually doesn't mind you befriending Daisuke, he just finds it strange how Daisuke stares at you a little too hard when you're not looking.

- you're personality didn't change, just the charming, sometimes bubbly and happy person you were.

- it helped you get along with everyone on that ship (except for Jimmy) and it made Swansea happy to know that you're making friends.

- but he did notice how you and Daisuke were a little too close to each other...

- nevertheless he enjoyed your company with him at the tulpar.

- until the ship crashed...

- Curly did not end up well, he was in the worst state ever.

- seeing how Anya reacted to that, you took it upon yourself to help her take care of your captain.

- unlike Jimmy, you made sure as gentle as possible when it was time to give him painkillers.

- finding out about the food stash only lasting for a few months made you feel uneasy.

- with that, you started feeding yourself less and less, Swansea took notice of it.

- any time he eyed your plate he only found bits of pieces of food while the others had full plates.

- he also took notice when you stopped visiting Anya to get painkillers for your headaches.

- seeing how bad your state was getting, Swansea took it upon himself to confront you (your dad is worried :{) and that's when you broke down.

- you tried to justify why you fed yourself less, you were worried about your crewmates, so you made sure to put less food on your plate so that they can have more, same reasoning for the painkillers, Curly clearly needed them more.

- Swansea felt bad, you were too kind for your own good. If he knew that you were going on that ship with him, he would've stopped you.

- things took turn for the worse.

- you found out what Jimmy had Done to Anya, you started to resent him. Jimmy didn't take it very well.

- things just kept deteriorating, Anya locked herself inside the medical room, judging by her words, she wasn't feeling very well.

- Jimmy thought it was a good idea to get to Anya through the vent by going to the utility room, and to get there, he had to go through Swansea.

- to your absolute horror, you found your dad knocked out, shards of broken glass next to him on the ground. You immediately knew who's the cause of it.

- it was too late tho, Daisuke had already crawled inside the vent Swansea had warned him not too. Causing him to sustain painful injuries.

- you've had enough of Jimmy's bullshit.

- that's it, you snapped at him.

- he was the cause of Anya's suicide.

- he was the cause of Daisuke's painful injuries.

- your dad have had enough, he couldn't bear seeing Daisuke in pain anymore, so he ended his misery with a swing of his axe.

- Jimmy was irresponsible.

- you took the sharpest knife you could find, not bothering to hide it as you made your way to Jimmy.

- too bad for you, Jimmy had over powered you.

- now laying your back on the cold metal wall, pained huffs leaving your mouth, you put a hand on your sliced throat, the knife you've tried to kill Jimmy with now deep in your abdomen.

- the last thing you saw before dying was Swansea looking down at you, visibly furious as he held his axe, he wasn't letting this slide.

- too bad, Jimmy had the gun.

- now tied in a chair, Jimmy let the middle-aged man speak his last words before shooting two bullets in his brain.

- Curly was guilty.

- if he had taken action, none of this would've happened.

- if he had taken action, none of you would've died in those gruesome ways.

- this wasn't what he had expected.

- that wasn't what he had wished for.

- a bad ending.

- jk y'all.

- the tulpar was found not too long after.

- luckily, everyone had made it out alive, except for Jimmy.

- Anya was now in a better state, the hospital staff making sure to look after her.

- Daisuke managed to survive that painful swing, though, he understood Swansea's actions, but his eye sight was a bit foggy.

- Swansea survived both bullets, with one eye remaining, he was glad that you and the others were alive and well.

- speaking of which, you were doing fine, the wound in your stomach hurt and you had a bit of a problem when it came to speaking, thanks for the damaged vocal cords Jimmy.

- Curly was the one who was looked after the most, he was doing alright, he had gotten better treatment and was using a wheelchair for now.

- after the incident, you and the other hung out with each other often.

- Daisuke coming over to visit you and Swansea, he sometimes would spend time with you and your sisters, which brought you closer to each other.

- after all, you've gotten a good ending.

[cumikering]

Barista Keegan x reader

4.8k | fluff The barista at your campus library had the prettiest icy blues, striking against his black leather jacket

It was ten minutes to your next lecture. You gathered your laptop and notes off the table and took the last sip of your coffee – bland now because the ice had melted.

On your way out, you placed the dirty glass on the counter as you mumbled a thanks. The barista, always the same one with the prominent blue eyes, turned from the machine and nodded wordlessly over his shoulder.

The class was always slow, but the coffee helped you to not doze off. Besides, you had something to look forward to after. Outside the lecture hall, your best friend waved at you with a grin. You couldn’t help but return it. She linked arms with you and headed to the parking lot.

“I think I’m getting this,” Monty said as she held her phone out, showing you the birthday dress for her dinner the coming month. She’d been looking forward to the trip to the boutique for her dress fitting.

“Oh, that’s a lovely colour!” you gushed, admiring the pinkish champagne fabric. She would look gorgeous in it.

As you climbed into the front seat of her car, you stalled as you saw the barista again. It was your first time seeing him without his signature apron, but it wasn’t hard to recognise his jet-black hair and sharp jaw. He zipped up his leather jacket and swung his leg over his bike before looking up. The eye contact made your heart stop, but you quickly snapped your gaze away and strapped yourself in.

Monty chuckled, following your previous line of sight. “Is that the barista from the library?”

Out the windshield, he tipped his chin up slightly to fasten his helmet. It was enough for you to catch a glimpse of the movement of his thick neck. He leaned in, looking impressively built grasping the handlebar of his black motorbike as it came to life with a rumble. With the back of his boot, he flipped the kickstand up and rode away.

“I knew you always had a thing for bikers,” she teased.

You waved your hand dismissively, the heat creeping up your neck.

“Well, I was asking if you’d like a dress in a matching shade?”

“Of course! I have time this weekend, I can find-”             

“Great, because I was thinking you can try on some dresses with me too.” She beamed, starting her car. “The sooner the better, right?”

The outing lasted longer than expected - the both of you had too much fun trying on all the cute dresses. While Monty settled with her initial choice, you found a simple one in a complimentary shade. After dinner and a movie, she dropped you home close to 11. Unfortunately, it meant you had more schoolwork to do the next day to make up for it.

Last semester, the university got the library revamped with an atrium and a coffee shop. You’d made it a habit to study there, and inadvertently saw the barista a lot. You didn’t mean to. It was not your fault he worked there on the days you came in.

You usually came between classes, but that Friday was an exception. When you found yourself heading to the library after your only class, you told yourself it was because the atmosphere was less depressing than your cramped studio apartment. It didn’t hurt that the drinks were good.

Definitely not because of the handsome and tattooed barista with his pretty eyes. Or that his voice was ridiculously silky like he was purring when he repeated your order at the register. Did he always sound like that, or was it just his library voice?

“One iced caramel latte,” he called in a gentle tone.

From across the room, you made your way to the counter. When you looked up, he smiled at you.

Despite his deadpan tone and sharp eyes, it wasn’t that he was unfriendly. He was always polite, but it was your first time seeing him really smile – like he meant to.

You flashed him a smile in return as the butterflies stirred in your belly, but averted your gaze down to his nametag. Keegan R. Obviously still the same since you first saw it those months ago.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. You grabbed your drink and hurried back to your table.

You weren’t there to see him – wasn’t trying to. It wasn’t your fault he worked there, was it?

As you sipped between the pages of your textbook, you looked up to the darkening sky, the clouds swirling. The trees swayed in the wind before the first drop of rain splattered on the tall glass ceiling.

It looked like the rain would last a while. You pulled out your earbuds, preferring the pitter patter of the rain and powered through your essay. Thankfully, you weren’t stuck somewhere unpleasant, and you had almost two hours until the library closed. Surely the rain would have passed by then.

Wrong.

When a figure approached you, the rain had barely slowed.

“Just a heads up, dear, we close in 15 minutes,” the librarian said, always with the polite smile.

“Right. Okay.“

“Diana, mind if I lock up today? I’ll have to wait the rain out anyway,” Keegan chimed from his counter.

“Oh, sure,” she answered and looked back at you. “Well, you can stay longer then.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

As the last few students left the building, you thought it was Diana approaching your table once more, but it was Keegan instead.

“Would you like anything else to drink? On the house.”

“Sorry?”

“I get a free drink for each shift. I figured I’d make you something since you come here a lot.”

You didn’t know what to make of the fact that he noticed, but you smiled. “Dealer’s choice? Whatever’s convenient for you.”

You looked up when Diana bade her goodbyes to Keegan and dropped her keys off on the counter, leaving the both of you in the building. You supposed it was time for a break. You packed your books aside and pulled up a gameplay video of your latest obsession.

“One iced Franken-latte.” Keegan placed two cups on the table. “Or two. It didn’t fit in one glass.”

“A what?”

“Frankenstein latte. I’ve never tried it, but my coworker always makes it after his shift.”

So it wasn’t his library voice. His voice was that honeyed for no reason.

You tried to bite down your grin. “One for you then.”

“Why not.” He shrugged, blue eyes wondering to your laptop screen. “Is that A Way Out?”

“Yes! Have you played?”

He pulled out the chair next to you. “My roommate absolutely sucks at games so not more than an hour unfortunately. Have you?”

You shook your head. “Got no console,” you said, reaching for the cup. “Well, thanks for this.”

He hummed and followed suit after you took a sip of the unsuspecting latte.

You didn’t want to be rude, but your brows couldn’t help but knit. Your wary gaze slid to him. Was this a prank?

Keegan turned to you with a deadpan expression before sighing. “That tastes terrible.” He placed the cup back on the table. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have trusted Kick and his fruity, salted caramel toothpaste.”

You laughed. “What the hell is in this?”

“A dash of every syrup.” He got up, heat colouring his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. He swears it’s the best, but I’m not sure what he smokes anymore these days.” He gathered your cups and made his way behind the counter.

You followed him, still chuckling as he dumped the cursed lattes in the sink.

“Could I make you something else?” he called behind his shoulder.

“That’s fine.” You looked out the window. “I think the rain won’t last much longer anyway.”

He turned to you, seemingly wounded by the rejection. “I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose. I do hope that wouldn’t stop you from coming back.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be back, of course,” you reassured. “At least we can say we’ve tried every syrup.”

His shoulders relaxed as he gave you a small smile. As he cleaned his station for closing, you leaned against the wooden counter and asked what he’d been playing on his console. You discussed your favourite games and upcoming releases, finding that you both had a common taste in games.

You made him laugh. The way the deep rumble from his chest made you bite your lip, it was just as well he had his back to you. At least he wouldn’t catch you staring at his muscles casually flexing as he wiped down the already-spotless stainless-steel counters.

“All done now,” he announced, taking one last look at his work. He reached behind to remove his apron before excusing himself to the back of the house.

You almost didn’t notice the rain had stopped to a mere trickle. You, too, retreated to your table to pack your laptop. Embarrassment flared at how much you enjoyed looking at him and his tattooed arms. You could only do it from across the room, so how could anyone blame you for being greedy when you could stand so close? But you weren’t supposed to be admiring him any more than you already did whenever you studied, yet there you were, fuelling your aimless infatuation.

Moments after, he joined you at the door, now clad in his leather jacket and backpack, his shiny black helmet in hand.

“Thanks again for the drink,” you said as he locked up. “Keegan,” you added, albeit a little too late for it to sound natural.

He turned to you with a sparkle in his vibrant blue eyes. “You’re welcome. I promise to make you something better next time.”

You only realised now he was a few inches taller than you. You smiled before shifting your gaze to your feet and nodded.

“Where did you park?”

“I’m walking home.”

“Do you want a ride?” he asked, not missing a beat.

Keegan rode slow the few minutes to your apartment. He wore his backpack in reverse and said you could hold onto its straps - out of courtesy you hoped. He’d been too nice with the drink and ride, but at least your place was on his way to his, so you didn’t feel too bad.

You thanked him in front of your building, earning you a nod. Or maybe more, who knew, he had his helmet on. With that, you turned, chewing on your lip. The flutters were more than just from the thrill of the ride.

Being so close to him, you couldn’t help but inhale him in the breeze.  The sweet earthiness of leather, robust coffee, a hint of sweat, and a dash of smoke and gasoline somewhere in there. The scent would haunt you for a little longer.

After two steps, he called, “H-Hey- uh, hold on.“

Keegan couldn’t believe it. He got your number.

Never mind that he stumbled over his words when he asked. It didn’t help that the wind had tousled your hair making you even more adorable. But you smiled so sweetly when you handed his phone back to him and he had your number.

For months, each week you’d come to the library two out of the four days he worked. Of course he noticed. You’d pick the table in the far corner and study with your earphones on. You were always a little shy, never meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds each time. No matter, it meant he had more time to look at your pretty face up close, because otherwise he could only steal glances from afar.

In his last year of engineering degree, he had far fewer classes and could work more hours. But when he studied behind the counter, it didn’t feel as lonely with you there across the room.

But you were always just that to him: a muse, a fantasy, a distant company. He didn’t know any more than your name. He didn’t know what you studied, if you had a boyfriend… He didn’t even want to smile nor acknowledge this - what if he got too attached?

But that Thursday when you tore your gaze away from his in the parking lot, something shifted. Maybe he wasn’t just a dude who made your coffee after all.

So on Friday the next day when you unexpectantly came, Keegan couldn’t hold back his excitement. You usually came on Tuesday and Thursday, he assumed between classes. It was just his luck you stayed until closing so he could make a complimentary drink for his favourite customer. Baristas did that all the time, right?

However, in the flurry, he didn’t think through Kick’s recipe. He’d always been skeptical, but why else would his colleague make it so often? He should have listened to his guts because it was repulsive. But you laughed, and- oh God, you were so pretty. And you liked the games he liked? It was unbelievable.

So with his back to you, he scrubbed and scrubbed the counters as you chatted until his arms ached. He didn’t want to turn to you and look creepy with his uncontainable grin. Would he ever get another chance to talk to you like this again?

He spent his entire weekend itching to say something to you, but he couldn’t figure out what to text and therefore was forced to wait until you’d drop by the library again. He didn’t see you on Monday, as he’d expected. But when Tuesday afternoon came around, the buzz in him intensified. Any minute now.

When you approached the glass door, he busied himself, not wanting to look like a puppy with its wet nose against the window as its tail wagged. But when you said hello, he whipped to you so fast, the grin already on his face.

“Hi. What can I get you today?”

You smiled, maybe even laughed a little. Did his voice crack?

Your gaze dropped to the summer menu. “One pink lemonade, please.”

He tapped on the tablet. “My treat. To make up for the other day.”

“Oh, no. You can’t do that-“

He turned to the fridge. “Coming right up.”

You placed the bills into the tip jar instead.

On your way to your next class, you placed the dirty cup on the counter. “Thanks, Keegan. See you around.”

He made his way to you and cleared his throat. “I can give you a ride home on Thursday if you want,” he said, remembering last week when he saw you at the parking lot. “I’ll bring my old helmet you can wear.”

“Oh, you’ve been too nice. Thanks so much, but I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I really don’t mind, but that’s only if you want to.”

You smiled. “If you say so.”

When your lecture ended that Thursday, Keegan was already waiting with a tumbler of lemonade and two helmets. You came out with a girl next to you, radiant as you chatted with her. She’d come to the library a few times with you to get her caramel macchiato with oat milk.

You did a double take, but your smile widened when your pretty eyes met his. You were supposed to meet him at the library, but he’d taken the liberty to surprise you instead. You introduced him to your friend Montana who didn’t bother to hide the knowing look she shot your way.

It only made his stomach flip. Was he being too obvious?

In front of his bike, you waved goodbye at Montana as she drove off. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea riding in the summer, a fact he’d never mulled over until he stood there as you sipped your ice cold lemonade. He gulped.

With a small laugh, you offered the last half of the drink, which he gladly chugged. It was just what he needed.

He handed you his old helmet, deep red - his first one. It was perfectly functional, albeit scuffed up from all the times he carelessly dropped it onto the grating pavement, or knocked it over tables and chairs over the years.

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

He zipped his jacket up. “No. Why?”

“You want to get something to eat?”

He smiled. “We can go anywhere.”

Keegan picked his favourite burger joint, the one at the pier. You chatted as you ate, and as pretty as the ocean was outside, the air conditioning indoors was too comfortable to pass up on. You shared another serving of fries, and he wished the table was smaller so he could be closer to you.

Why did it feel so good being around you? There was no awkward silence even when no words were exchanged. The quiet was easy; on his brain too, because he’d never been the chattiest in the room. You exuded serenity, the kind that gave him a dash of nervousness that kept his stomach tossing in delight. He couldn’t look away - he wanted to lean in closer and closer.

You insisted on paying, and with a pleased smile, he let you. It would simply be an excuse to return the favour with more drinks.

Later when you hopped on his bike, he didn’t expect for your arms to wrap around his waist. His breath hitched. Was this really happening? Surely, you only did this for safety purposes. He shouldn’t be reading that much into it. Although it would be embarrassing if you could feel his heartbeat going crazy if you leaned in any longer.

When you got off his bike in front of your building, he turned to you and popped his visor up.

You took the helmet off and handed it back to him. “Thanks for today, Keegan.”

“You’re welcome.” He took it with a grin. “I had fun.”

You smiled. “Me too.”

“I was wondering… If you’d like to come over and play A Way Out tomorrow? Alex should be home too. We can get pizza for dinner after.” He was glad his face was covered because he could have sworn he was beet red under it. “Only if you have time, of course.”

You averted your eyes, but your smile only brightened. “I’d like that.”

“Then you keep this. For tomorrow.” He held out the helmet towards you.

And so it became a routine.

Some days, Keegan would wait with a drink in his tumbler in front of your lecture hall before heading to his own class. Once a week, you’d make him sandwiches for lunch and drop them off at the library. Sometimes you’d do schoolwork there together.

He tried to not make it obvious that every now and then he’d linger around to spend a little more time with you, be it to grab a bite or to simply give you a ride home – something he always did when your schedules allowed anyway. But on Fridays, you always came over to his place to game.

Not only was co-op gaming with you insanely fun, he also guided you on how to play some of his favourite single-player games. The way you’d laugh in delight, he could listen to you all day. And he did, sitting next to you watching you play. This was more his thing anyway: enjoying your presence without having to always talk.

Ajax, who was reserved (if he wasn’t, Keegan wouldn’t have been close friends with him since high school, let alone be his flatmate), didn’t take long to warm up to you either. While he was quiet at the first pizza dinner, he lingered whenever he emerged out of his room, standing by the couch munching on his potato chips as he nodded approvingly at each shot you got. Soon, he would wedge himself next to Keegan to cheer you on and hype you up.

You’d turn to him with a proud smile. Yeah, he could sit there next to you all day.

Meanwhile, something had been brewing in Keegan’s mind. He’d been wanting to take you to the helmet shop too pick out something you like, but he was worried it was too forward, too much of a commitment. What if you got the wrong idea? Well, evidently, he did want to articulate that idea, but what if he scared you away instead? He hadn’t even held your hand.

And so he did what he did best: be patient and wait. He’d rather be sure you were comfortable with him than rush into things and ruin any chance he had with you. No matter how subtle, you would give him signs, right?

The last Saturday before Monty’s birthday, you went out for ice cream with her before going to her final fitting. When she suggested dinner afterwards, you told her you’d made plans with Keegan.

“So what’s going on with you and him?” she asked as she smoothed down her dress, smiling teasingly through the large full length mirror.

“Nothing.”

“He’ll be your plus one at my dinner, right?” She twisted, inspecting the dress on her.

“What? No! He doesn’t see me like that.” You swatted your hand. “We’re just friends,” you trailed off, trying to not slump in your seat.

“He definitely likes you! Why else would you be out with him on Saturday night?”

“He doesn’t. He… He never makes a move.” Your gaze dropped to the ground.

Monty marched to you and gripped you by the shoulders. “Oh my God! How is waiting outside your lecture hall with a freshly made drink only to give you a ride home not a move?”

“But…”

“I would have believed if you told me he didn’t have the muscles to smile, until I saw him with you.” She shook her head. “The poor guy. Put him out of his misery already!”

When Keegan picked you up for dinner from the boutique, Montana was all smiles while you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, handing you the helmet.

You shook your head, fastening the strap.

You’d tell him when you were ready, and he could be patient. But at the taco place as he stared at you staring at your hands under the table – it was uncharacteristic of him, the silence grated against him. Did he do something?

“Did I-“

“Keegan,” you started at the same time, eyes flicking to him before dropping back.

“Yes?” he asked hopefully.

“Would you want to come to Monty’s dinner with me?”

He grinned, relieved. “Of course, yes. It would be my pleasure.”

As if the tension had melted, you were your normal self again, giggly and warm. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but you held his gaze longer than usual. He liked it. He loved looking into your pretty eyes. He scooted his seat closer to the table, letting his foot rest against yours. You didn’t move away.

For dessert, he got you a churro from the food truck nearby. His stomach flipped when your fingers brushed his when he handed it to you.

On the way to yours, at the red light – oh, he’d been aching to do this for weeks - he finally plucked up the courage to squeeze his hand over yours as you held onto his waist. You held on tighter. He liked to think you smiled behind him, the shy kind perhaps. You always looked adorable with it.

Over the next week, you sat a little closer to him – maybe only an inch or two, but it didn’t elude him. You didn’t look away nearly as much as you used to either. He liked that you were finally comfortable enough with him.

In a burst of confidence, he grasped your hand as he walked you to class. It made his heart flutter whenever you’d look up at him with a smile like that. You walked closer to him, your other hand clasped over his tattooed arm. He bit down his grin.

Before Keegan knew it, it was Montana’s birthday.

That evening, in front of the bathroom mirror, he brushed his fingers through his hair and leaned in, inspecting his handiwork. Was it supposed to look this way? He hadn’t had to style his hair in such a long time (his helmet wouldn’t have allowed it).

“Dude, you look fine, I swear,” Ajax called from the couch. “She already likes you anyway.”

He stood in front of the doorway facing his roommate, voice hopeful. “Are you sure?”

He did a once over as Keegan smoothed down his crisp black button down and dark jeans. Freshly shaved, he’d also put on some cologne for the occasion.

“Affirmative. Just go already!” He slipped past him, slamming the bathroom door behind him. “I’ve been holding my piss in for half an hour!”

He laughed and bade his goodbye, not forgetting to pick up the keys on the table. Ajax had told him to drive his car for the night, an offer he gratefully took.

At your door, Keegan shifted his weight as he, once more, examined his boots, his hands shoved in his pockets. When you opened the door, his greeting wedged in his throat.

“You’re-“ His eyes scanned down your outfit, letting out an inaudible ‘wow’. “You’re gorgeous.”

You were stunning in your peach dress, the shade complementing your skin. You’d done your hair too, pretty in your heels and glossy lips.

You smiled, reaching to place a hand on his forearm. “Thank you. You look really nice yourself.”

At the venue, Montana lit up when she saw you, but clasped her hand over her laughter when she registered the large gift you carried. She donned a sequin dress, the shade similar to yours. You embraced and gushed over each other’s outfit before her attention turned to the Hello Kitty plushie you cradled. She wore a pink helmet and a matching racing suit - you told him she was a Formula One fan. He smiled. It was endearing how much you adored each other.

Montana had assigned her boyfriend, Troy, and you to sit next to her, with Keegan by your side. She would have liked the Hello Kitty to get her own seat at the table too, alas, she didn’t RSVP and had to sit among the other gifts. As you chatted with the neighbouring guests at dinner, your hand on his thigh comforted him. He didn’t usually like large gatherings, especially one where he didn’t know most of the attendants, but you didn’t make him feel left out as you included him in the conversation. His hand enveloped yours in appreciation as he tried to hide his smile behind his glass.

After dessert, the ladies got up to dance to the upbeat music. You and your girls laughed on the dancefloor, enjoying yourselves. He couldn’t help the grin that bloomed on his face. Did you always look that beautiful?

Focused on you, he didn’t realise Montana had made her way to him.

“Go dance with her.”

Keegan chuckled. He didn’t know how to dance.

“Come on, don’t make her wait too long now.” She walked away, shooting a teasing smile over her shoulder.

He let out a small laugh as he pushed his chair back. If he had to embarrass himself, you were the only one he wanted to do it for. As he approached, your girls stepped away with a giggle, making you frown in confusion.

At the sight of him, you relaxed.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

You nodded, your smile widening.

He took a step in, tentatively resting his hands on your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and started swaying. He followed, careful to not step on your toes, but honestly, he was content to bask in the proximity and simply stare into your eyes like so.

Just as he thought the electronic music wasn’t ideal, the song abruptly changed into something slower. You laughed. Montana couldn’t have been more obvious with this, huh?

Your thumb brushed the nape of his neck, sending tingles down his spine. With a shaky breath, he leaned in, forehead resting against yours before shutting his eyes. This close, he could smell you – sweet and soft.

Were his palms sweating? Probably, but he couldn’t tell with the way they fitted perfectly on your waist.

You rested your cheek on his shoulder, but must have felt his heartbeat picking up because you looked up at him with an amused look.

His icy blues were already on you, tender yet intense. “Can I kiss you?”

Your brilliant smile was all the answer he needed. Against your lips, he sighed deeply as his fingers curled over your waist, wanting to stay in the moment longer. You seemed to feel the same, your arms wrapping tighter around him as you pressed your body against his.

When you pulled away, he chuckled in awe while you looked away.

He tilted your face up to him, thumb brushing over your cheek. “We should get you your own helmet.”

“I’d like that,” your murmured against his smile.

Masterlist Tinder Keegan Neighbour Keegan Werewolf Keegan

Happy birthday to @operationdeadbolt my first ever Keegan simp friend!! You’re such a cutie bundle of sunshine. I adore the way you love so much, so generously, gushing over the things you like. Talking to you always makes me smile, and you inspire me to keep enjoying life, to be grateful. You gave me the moon and I always think of you when I see it

Thank you for reminding me there is joy to be found everywhere. I hope happiness and resilience are always with you every step of the way. Here’s to many more times we’re going to crush on cod dudes <3

[demigod-shenanigans]

Okay but. Hear me out. Platonic m/f soulmates specifically in a heteronormative society.

Soulmates are understood to primarily be a romantic thing by society, because they’re meant to be the most important person in your life, and a lot of the time that person is your partner, but not always.

Reyna who grows up with Jason’s name on her wrist. Who gets through her shitty childhood partially through thinking one day she’ll meet her soulmate and he will love her and things will get better

And then she does meet him and he does love her, but it’s not how she expected it to be. He loves her, but it doesn’t seem to be in the same way she loves him.

And then even the goddess of love tells her she’ll never find love with her soulmate, and Reyna can’t help but wonder if she’s fundamentally broken in some way.

Jason who grows up just wanting to be loved, no matter in what way. Who has Reyna’s name on his wrist and is delighted when he meets her and knows they were meant to be friends. But he’s not sure he loves her in the way he’s supposed to. And he’s overjoyed that he has her, but sometimes he feels sad, because maybe that means there’s something wrong with him.

Leo and Piper who grow up with each other’s names on their wrists. Who find out during the meteor shower and kiss exactly once only for them both to immediately realize this feels off, but if that means they’re broken somehow, at least they can be broken together.

But then something shifts. Hera mixes up their memories and they no longer remember. Leo is stuck thinking his soulmate has a boyfriend, and maybe he’s one of the unlucky few people who is soulmates with someone that has a different soulmate. But then he looks at Jason and Piper together. And sure, he jealous, but it’s not Piper he wants to kiss, and he’s so confused. She’s the one who’s meant to be his soulmate. So then why does he think about what it would be like to brush his fingers through Jason’s hair?

Piper who doesn’t properly remember wilderness school but does realize her love for Leo isn’t what it’s supposed to be. She loves him so much, but she’s not in love with him like she should be. But surely Hera and her mom put her with Jason for a reason. Maybe there was a mistake with her tattoo. Maybe she was supposed to have Jason’s name written on her wrist. Maybe she’s not broken.

Except Jason’s tattoo says Reyna. And it’s clear that he misses whoever Reyna is. He says he doesn’t think he liked her like that, but she’s his soulmate, so surely he does. The name is burnt into Piper’s mind before they ever meet.

And when they do, she wants to hate Reyna. Wants to hate her for what it will mean for her relationship with Jason that Reyna exists. Wants to hate her for being proof that there is something fundamentally wrong with Piper.

But Reyna is beautiful and strong and a natural leader. Jason is lucky to have a soulmate that awesome. (And sometimes Piper kind of wishes Reyna was her soulmate instead of Jason’s.)

Reyna who wants to hate Piper because she’s the girlfriend of the guy who was supposed to be her soulmate. Who might be the reason Aphrodite looked at her and said she wouldn’t find love where she wanted or expected. But Piper is gorgeous and brave and stubborn, and Reyna doesn’t hate her. Sometimes she thinks it might be the opposite. Sometimes she wonders if that’s what her prophecy meant.

Jason who is loved in so many different ways after a lifetime’s worth of feeling unloved. Who is so confused how romantic love is supposed to feel in comparison to platonic love. Who loved Reyna and Piper but never like he was supposed to.

Who holds Leo in his arms and wonders if that’s what home feels like.

It’s Leo who figures it out eventually. He’s venting to Hazel about the whole situation after the incident with Nemesis and Hazel looks at him dumbfounded because “what gave you the idea soulmates had to be romantic??”

“Please tell me one example where it isn’t. You can’t.”

And Hazel just stares at him, then slowly rolls up her sleeve to show Leo the name on her wrist is literally her brother’s (which makes a lot of sense because obviously without Nico she wouldn’t even be alive right now. He changed her life in a way no one else could have)

And. Yeah. That one is kind of hard to argue with

And there’s nothing wrong with the way any of them love each other. They’re not what society expects soulmates to look like. But they’re all so very loved, and being loved platonically isn’t less valuable than being loved romantically just because it’s different. It’s not what they expected looking at the names on their wrists for the first time. But it’s still love, and maybe that’s the only thing that matters.

[hvbris]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet did not realize that she had lived through an episode of her own when she froze during the fire. She did not realize that seeing everything she had seen had already taken a toll on her, like rust slowly eating at her insides.

"It was scary," Violet admitted about Cowboy Theo's episode. Samantha placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She knew better than most just how terrifying a violent episode was. So did Killian. When she removed her hand, she unconsciously brushed her neck, before grabbing her spoon again.

"These sorts of things are scary," she then explained, "but there are ways to help someone going through an episode, even a violent one. Usually pinning them or restraining them is the most efficient thing to do, and eventually, they snap out of it. When someone is frozen in fear, you can try to talk them out of it. And if they run away, at least they are out of harm's way."

Running away didn't seem like the kind of thing Violet would do, but then again, she had run away in Ophir. Leaving Chief behind. "Can people control themselves during an episode?" she asked, "or... is there nothing they can do?" Maybe her dad couldn't do anything about what was happening to him. Maybe he just had to ride out this horrible moment. But how long was it going to last? Days? Weeks? ...Months?

Was she bottling things out? Would it all come back to bite her later? Violet stared at her bowl of soup, frowning. A lot of terrible things had happened to her, but she always seemed to move on fairly easily. Except for the nightmares. Or the fact that she still couldn't get anywhere near the big windows in the living room.

Glad that Violet seemed to understand what he had been trying to say, he nodded his confirmation, reassured he was not overstepping any of Delta Green's rules in explaining temporary insanity to her. She had to know, she was facing it and looking at a mild episode as it was. Not opposed to Samantha explaining that she could have an episode too, not realising she had already had one of her own when she froze in the fire. Theo cast what was meant to be a sympathetic look Samantha's way but it might have seemed emotionless as he did it, he still checked nonetheless. They'd seen each other through episodes before and been fortunate.

She described what she had seen his counterpart do and he nodded slowly. "It certainly sounds like he had an episode." And how lucky she was there had been other targets left in the room if violence had been the course of action his lapse in control had taken. Theo wanted to reach out and pull Violet into a hug but he still couldn't bring himself to do it again, fortunately the soup was a handy excuse too as he took another spoonful to keep himself in the moment and not to wherever his head might try to take him next.

"Sometimes people just run away too." He explained, "which in my own opinion if you have the mind to decide what to do, running away is going to be the best decision." If something could trigger an episode like that, fleeing from it was the best course of action, right? Theo would of course very much prefer Violet ran away from the danger rather than towards it but even in the state he was in he wasn't fool enough to believe she would run away even during an episode.

Of course there were times when running away was impossible, like when an orderly could pin them down to the floor with no escape, fighting or freezing was all that was left and both would end the same way. He rubbed a hand at his head again, trying to wipe the thought away. "Sometimes if you bottle them up," which he had done with Violet the previous night after falling from the couch, "they just come back to bite you later."

[generic-sonic-fan]

Are Sonic + friends claustrophobic?

Sonic, of course, is the king of claustrophobia. If he can't move his legs he is noping the fuck out of there. Even weighted blankets bug him- he has to be able to move and fidget as he pleases.

Tails isn't classically claustrophobic, but he's got a big fear of entanglement, especially with his tails. He tried a foam pit exactly once and he had to take a few hours to calm down after.

Amy isn't claustrophobic! She likes making tight little nests to curl up in after a long day. You might find her curled up in a ball in a cupboard for hide-and-seek.

Knuckles loves small enclosed spaces. He's an avid caver willing to squeeze through some scarily narrow crevices to find new branches and chart new paths. This dude literally loves tunneling through dirt. Call him if you've got a confined space you need to check out, seriously.

Shadow normally wouldn't be claustrophobic but through trauma related to test tubes and escape pods, he sort of is. (Poor dude can't catch a break.)

Rouge is not claustrophobic! She is in your vents (joke). While she might not like having her wings restricted, she's more than willing to do so to get the job done.

Omega is absolutely claustrophobic and he would never admit it. It's not the proximity or the feeling of the walls close to him that gets him- it's any implication that he might not be able to leave or force his way out if he wants to. Small room + locked door + no windows is a recipe for some very catastrophic explosions.

Blaze is fine with most tight spaces, but the moment her whiskers touch the walls she's out. Nope.

Silver is actually agoraphobic! Poor guy. Being out in the open makes him feel exposed. He'd be much better in a small little space, thank you very much. Generally the only exception to this rule is if he's out in nature- even then he'd prefer a denser forest over open hills.

Vector is fine with tight spaces, but he's a pretty big guy so his "tight space" is a lot of other people's "comfortable room". He deals with it as best he can.

Charmy loves tight spaces. Matter of fact, he is in your walls (joke). This dude has a habit of popping up in all the places you thought no one would ever go. Vector almost turned on the dryer while he was in it.

Espio also likes tight spaces. Because they help with stealth, of course. Plus a good weighted blanket is nice.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

“Agatha and Rio arrived at school together this morning,” Jen says by way of greeting, dropping her books on the table and joining Alice and Lilia.

Alice looks up, half intrigued, but Lilia keeps her head down, ignoring Jen except for a little wave in greeting.

It’s before school, and the staff room is mostly empty, giving them plenty of space to gossip before the school day starts. Though not a lot of time, the bell for first period is about to ring so they better make this quick.

“When you say ‘arrived together’ do you mean they got out of the same car, or just walked into the building together?" Alice asks.

Jen deflates a little. “I saw them walk into the building together.”

“Then that proves nothing,” Alice says, returning to her book too.

It’s been a hot topic of discussion over the last few months, what’s going on between the two of them, ever since Alice had seen them in the hallway together, Agatha laughing at something Rio said. 

The way Alice tells it, Rio even touched Agatha’s arm, but that detail was added after a few retellings so Jen isn’t so sure about that part.

Either way, ever since they noticed, they can’t stop speculating, because even just the few times Jen has seen them interact since, there’s definitely been a vibe.

Lilia has repeated on multiple occasions that she thinks they’re together, but they need proof.

And Jen is determined to find it.

---

“Someone sent Agatha flowers.”

Jen grins, Alice always gets the good gossip.

“Who are they from?” Jen asks. There’s a pile of homework she needs to grade before her next class but this is more important.

“I’m not sure, I was in the main office when they got delivered. I managed to sneak a look at the card but all it had on it was a little green heart.”

Jen thinks about this for a minute. “A secret admirer perhaps? Maybe even one who teaches biology a few doors down.”

“There’s no way to prove that,” Alice says, but she still looks on board with this information.

“What if we just ask Agatha?” Jen asks, keeping a straight face for as long as she can before she bursts out laughing, Alice, and even Lilia joining in.

“It’d be your funeral,” Alice says.

And Jen knows it would be.

Agatha is snarky and no bullshit and you always want her on your side in an argument. There’s no way she’s risking Agatha’s bad side.

When she’d first met Agatha, she’d wondered why someone like her would even want to be a teacher, and then she’d actually seen her with her students and she’d changed her mind. Agatha might be scary, but she has a way with kids that Jen didn’t expect.

Maybe it’s the no bullshit thing that kids respect, but whatever it is, the kids love Agatha and she seems to love them too.

But there is still no way she’d ever ask Agatha about her personal life. From what Jen can gather from their limited interactions is that Agatha is a private person, and she’s not going to question that.

She really hopes Agatha never finds out that their favourite way to spend their lunch break is gossip about her and the chemistry she clearly has with Rio.

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut

---

“I just saw Agatha and Rio having lunch together in Agatha’s classroom.”

They really don’t greet each other normally anymore, they just spill gossip. She hopes the other teachers don’t overhear them. Or if they do, they have gossip to contribute.

“I knew it,” Jen says, like that’s the proof they needed when in fact it proves nothing except the fact that they’re friends.

Which they knew already, so that’s not news. They've seen them together enough to know that they're friends, which only adds fuel to their speculation because Agatha doesn't have any other friends at school besides Rio.

“And they were sharing a sandwich,” Alice adds.

Ok, that might be something. 

“’Lady and the tramp’ style?” Jen asks, because that’s the first thought that pops into her mind when Alice says it and she also knows Alice will hate her question.

As expected, she gets a withering gaze in return. “No not ‘lady and the tramp’ style, they were sharing a sandwich like normal people do, Rio handed Agatha half of her sandwich, but that’s all I glimpsed as I walked by.”

“I mean, that’s kind of something I guess?” Jen says. “Lilia, back me up?”

Lilia barely looks up from the book she’s buried in. “You already know my opinion on the matter, but that alone proves nothing.”

“I’m adding that to the list of signs they’re dating,” Jen decides after some thought. It doesn’t really prove anything either way, but she’s going to figure it out.

---

“Guess who is chaperoning the school lock in tonight together?” Jen asks. She feels like this is good information.

“I’m guessing Agatha and Rio?” Alice answers, taking a carrot stick from the container Jen offers. 

“As well as about 10 other teachers,” Lilia pipes in, ruining the fun.

Lilia is still firmly in the camp of “they’re definitely together, and why bother gossiping about someone else’s personal life?” but even she sometimes gets involved. She’d been the one that noticed Rio wearing a shirt she swears up and down she’d seen Agatha wear before.

But maybe they just shop at the same place, so that proved nothing either.

“Are either of you two chaperoning?” Jen asks. When they were taking volunteers, she’d said no. She couldn’t think of anything worse than being locked in the gym overnight with a bunch of kids. 

Agatha doesn’t usually volunteer for school activities either, which is why this is a little suspicious.

“No,” Alice says as Lilia shakes her head.

Damn, she wishes she’d volunteered now, they might’ve gotten some good intel.

On Monday, they get no information from any of the other teachers because she’s pretty sure no one else is as invested as they are so that’s a bust.

---

Jen is halfway through her sandwich when Agatha walks into the staff room. She watches in surprise as Agatha crosses the room, takes a seat at the only empty table and pulls out her lunch.

“Do you think they’ve had a fight?” Alice asks, as quietly as she can. There’s no need to ask who she’s talking about, they all know.

They’re all fairly certain that Agatha and Rio spend every lunch break together, so why not today?

The logical answer is that she’s busy so Agatha is eating alone but gossip and speculation isn’t logical.

A couple minutes later, Rio walks in and the imaginative side of Jen’s brain runs away with her, to the point that by the time Rio has crossed the room, Jen is expecting a fight because in her mind they’ve broken up, but all Rio does is sit down next to Agatha and pull out her own food.

Jen deflates a little. Not that she’d wanted a fight, but it at least meant they might get some drama.

That doesn’t stop her from watching them though. As subtly as she can, of course. She can see Alice and Lilia doing the same, all three looking for clues to whether something is going on between them or not.

But it’s about as boring as watching anyone else each lunch. All they’re doing is talking and eating and Jen is just starting to wonder if maybe they’re reading too much into things when it happens.

Jen can’t see from where she’s sitting what Agatha is eating, but whatever it is, it must be messy enough for Agatha to get something on her face. Rio reaches out and wipes her thumb across Agatha’s lips, removing whatever food was there, before bringing the thumb to her own mouth to lick it clean.

Alice immediately clutches Jen’s arm, clearly just having seen it too.

They (again, subtly) watch in silence until Agatha and Rio get up and leave not long later, nothing else eventful happening after the incidentTM.

“Did you see that?” Alice asks as soon as Agatha and Rio are gone.

“That is not 'just friends’ behaviour,” Jen says, still in shock at what they’d witnessed. Maybe there was something to this after all.

“I mean-“ Alice starts, like she’s about to justify it.

“No. Do you ever do that with your friends?”

“No,” Alice says, her cheeks going red.

“Exactly. So we’re adding this to the list of evidence that they’re dating.” Not that that list is very long, but if they’re not dating, then they’re clearly into each other, evidenced not just by what Rio had done, but by the fact that Agatha hadn’t punched her afterwards.

---

It’s early, earlier than she’d usually arrive at school, but they have a school spirit event today so they’d all arrived early to set up their classrooms.

But before that, Jen needs coffee.

There are a few other teachers on campus, all trying to get an early start on the day, so she’s not surprised when they walk into the staff room and find they’re not alone.

What she very much is surprised by, however, is that the two people in the room are Agatha and Rio.

And they’re kissing.

It’s a fairly chaste kiss, as far kisses go, which is probably good considering they’re at school. But Agatha is pressed close to Rio, Rio crowded against the counter.

At least their hands are in appropriate places.

The noise of the door closing must alert them to the fact that they’re not alone as they break the kiss and turn towards the noise.

“Morning,” Rio smiles, giving a small wave. She makes no move to push Agatha away though and Agatha doesn’t move either. Agatha does give a flippant wave in their direction which Jen is assuming is also a hello.

Clearly, they don’t care that they’ve been caught because Rio turns back to Agatha, saying something too quietly for them to hear but whatever it is, Agatha laughs.

Jen will blame the lack of coffee and the fact that they’ve been speculating about this for months for her next words.

“You two are together?” Jen asks before she can stop herself. There definitely was a more tactful way to ask that but it’s too late.

“I told you,” Lilia says, as Agatha and Rio turn back to them, finally stepping apart. Lilia pays everyone no mind as she walks across the room and starts making herself a coffee.

Jen ignores her, too focused on the two women on the other side of the room.

Agatha looks mad now, which is a little scary, but Rio looks amused.

“Are you serious?” Agatha asks, voice gruff, and Jen is starting to have regrets. But they’re in this now, and there’s only one way to find out the truth.

“We just…” Jen looks to Alice for support, but she holds her hands up in a way that says ‘don’t make me a part of this’. 

Traitor.

“We’d just noticed you two spending a lot of time together and you obviously have chemistry so we couldn’t help wondering if something was going on.”

Rio looks even more amused, and there’s a slight quirk to Agatha’s lips too which means she’s at least not contemplating killing her right now.

“You know nothing exciting ever happens in Westview,” Jen adds, like it justifies their actions. “It was just idle gossip.”

“Well, Rio starts. “You know, I saw Agatha and I just couldn’t stay away. I’ve been trying to get her to go on a date with me all year, it was those sexy reading glasses that-

Agatha gives Rio a slight shove, pushing her away and cutting her off. Agatha still doesn’t look mad at least. “We’re married,” Agatha says with a roll of her eyes, but the look is directed at Rio.

“See, I just couldn’t stay away,” Rio grins, gesturing to Agatha. “All she did was ask me one little question and now I’m hers fore-“

“Stop,” Agatha cuts in, giving Rio another playful shove but she’s looking at Rio with such affection that no one could deny them being in love. “Or else you’re walking home.”

Rio holds her hands up in surrender with a grin.

“You’re married?” Jen finally asks, incredulous. She almost feels like she’s intruding on something.

How on earth did they miss that?

“We’ve been married for eight years,” Agatha supplies, looking a little annoyed again. It’s very clear that the annoyance is directed at them, and not Rio. “It’s not a secret, everyone knows.”

Jen’s mouth drops open. 

“Or we thought everyone did.” Rio says, taking Agatha’s hand, threading their fingers together. “We have a kid too, if that helps,”

Jen feels each new piece of information like a physical blow. She needs to lie down, this is too much this early in the morning.

They clearly missed a lot.

“Come on,” Rio says, giving Agatha’s hand a tug. “Let’s leave these guys to whatever it is they’ve got going on here.”

“Sorry,” Jen says, having the decency to look sheepish as Agatha and Rio walk past them.

Even more so when Agatha stops and turns to them. 

“Maybe next time, don’t gossip about people behind their backs. If you have a question, just ask.”

“You heard the lady,” Rio winks, tugging on Agatha’s hand once more and then they’re alone again.

Jen and Alice wait a few short moments, making sure Agatha and Rio are out of earshot before they turn to each other.

“Oh my God,” Jen says, at the same time Alice says “I thought Agatha might hit you there for a moment.”

“I told you so,” Lilia says, carefully setting down three cups of coffee on their usual table.

She’s a lifesaver.

“I’m sorry, you did,” Jen says, gratefully accepting the mug. “Next time, I’ll believe you.”

“I can’t believe we missed it, all this time,” Alice says, looking equally grateful for her drink.

“Technically we missed nothing, we thought something might be going on and we were right.”

Jen is sticking by the fact that they got this one right.

“Yeah,” Alice says. “But married for eight years is a little different than wondering if two people are dating.”

Jen waves her off. “Details. But don’t think I will forget that you basically threw me under the bus there.”

Alice is the one who looks sheepish now. “Sorry, but she’s scary.”

Jen won’t deny that. “So, who’s going to be our next source of gossip? We’re going to need something new to talk about.”

Alice rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest, which is either because she’s too tired this early, or because she wants the gossip too.

Probably both.

“What about your love life?” Jen teases, earning a glare from Alice that she knew was coming. So, what? It’s easy to wind her up.

“Don’t you dare,” Alice warns.

“Fine,” Jen laughs. She’s sure they’ll find something else to gossip about, at least for now they’ve solved the Agatha and Rio mystery. 

Which wasn’t really a mystery after all, because it was common knowledge.

Apparently they were just the last to find out.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; wined and dined

For the prompt: Andreas and Luke meeting/hooking up the second time

I literally finished this before I realised you guys probably meant like, the second time they hooked up, not the whole second time 'round. Mea culpa, everybody. And for those who interpreted it the same way I did...you're welcome?

Andreas can’t remember the last time he was wined and dined.

Though maybe that isn’t the best way to describe it — Andreas has dinner meetings all the time, has sat beside clients at the best restaurants in almost every NHL city, sampled from the menus of half of New York's most exclusive restaurants. Always on the agency’s dime, of course, or his multi-millionaire client’s, or the teams they play for, or the teams who want to sign them.

There’s plenty of wine involved — though Andreas always restricts himself to a glass when it's business — plenty of dining. But a meeting’s a meeting, whether it’s in a conference room, patiently waiting for a GM who’s been around since there were still six teams in the league to figure out how to unmute his mic, or eating something exceptional at a Michelin Star restaurant.

So obviously that’s not what he means. It’s not that he hasn’t been dating either, though admittedly, he had less and less time to spare for it as he got older. And not that he hasn’t gone on dinner dates specifically, where he allows himself a second glass of wine, orders what he’d like, rather than ‘what he’s having sounds good’, unless, Andreas supposes, it truly does sound good. So there has been wining and dining, in fact. Possibly even a surplus of it.

And yet.

At a certain point Andreas thinks he just stopped expecting romance. It wasn’t any sort of resigned, jaded disappointment at the dating scene. Not that it isn't a shitshow, but it's probably better here than just about anywhere else. More an acknowledgment that most guys didn’t seem to be looking for romance, at least the ones Andreas was dating.

And that was fine, because Andreas wasn’t really looking for it either. Romance was undeniably nice, but he worked long hours, put almost all of himself into his job, and what he had left didn’t require much more than good conversation and some companionship, a spark of attraction, mediocre or better sex. Romance might have come along down the line, but things didn’t tend to last long even when he did find someone who met his simple — yet almost impossible to find — criteria.

That one, he thinks has more to do with him than it does with them. Andreas’ career is one of those things that’s attractive in theory, but significantly less endearing when he’s slipping in and out of bed at all hours, constantly checking his email or ducking out to make a call, flying off to who knows where, sometimes with plenty of notice, sometimes with none at all.

Maybe his life just isn’t conducive to romance. He doesn’t like to think that, but there would be worse things, wouldn’t there? He has a job that he finds fascinating, a job that offers something different every day, a job that, incidentally, pays him more money than he has the time to spend. He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to, live the rest of his life in comfort, dedicate all his time to searching for true love, but why would he want to? It sounds excruciatingly boring.

So he works — he works a lot, works more than he should, at least according to everyone he knows, including Dave, the giant hypocrite — and he — well, he works. But it’s fine. Most people have to search for meaning in his life, but he has his. If anyone asks about it — and they all ask, except Dave, that gem of a fucking man — he says he doesn’t feel like he’s lacking anything. He’s not lying, either.

That doesn’t mean something doesn’t squeeze tight when Luke conveniently ‘happens to be in town’ — though if there’s any town that actually applies to, it’s New York — when he figures they should ‘catch up’. Even as he tells himself that he’s just catching up with an old flame, one who doesn’t even live in the same country as him anymore. Even as he tells himself once for old time’s sake, and then twice doesn’t hurt considering they’ve still got chemistry, then when it’s been three, four, half a dozen, and if Luke’s got a return ticket Andreas doesn’t know when it’s for, but it doesn’t feel like it’s any time soon.

Luke has always been a romantic. He’d deny it up and down if Andreas said it, and it wouldn’t even be a kneejerk macho shit — Andreas doesn’t think Luke even knows he does anything out of the ordinary. Andreas doubts he was thinking ‘I’m going to woo Andreas’ as he asked him out to dinner, not the first time, or the second, not when he came with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine from a vineyard Andreas mentioned in passing, said he’d cook for him, laughing as he fought with Andreas’ temperamental bottle opener, scoffing when Andreas impatiently intervened before he could ruin a good bottle of wine.

Technically, he doesn’t even know if 'wooing' is Luke’s aim at all. He could just need the change of pace, miss the city, the speed of it, the convenience, and while he was here, Andreas was just as convenient as the rest of it — good conversation, good companionship, Luke more attractive than ever, the sex still fantastic. And they didn’t even have to get to know one another. What could be easier?

But Andreas doesn’t think so, at least not judging by the way Luke’s started looking at him.

Andreas doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like Luke does, the complete focus of it. Looking isn’t a strong enough word — it’s more like he’s taking him in, trying make sure that he gets every single detail correct, the way Andreas imagines a painter would gaze at their subject, a poet at their lover. Luke’s no poet, but, well — maybe he is, a little, minus the words. There’s something about the way Luke looks at the world. Something about the way Luke looks at him.

It used to unnerve Andreas, a little, especially because Luke wasn’t only looking at him like that over romantic candlelit dinners and endorphin fueled pillow talk, but also during the most mundane moments. Andreas would be scowling at his phone, pecking out an answer to a client who decided he urgently needed to discuss his contract on a Sunday morning, a full season before it expired, and he’d look up and there Luke was, visibly taking him in. Sometimes there’d be a little smile on his face — the moments Andreas let himself be a little cranky there often was — but often there wasn’t, just Luke’s eyes on him, taking him in like he was never going to see him again.

It was — a lot. Luke was a lot, almost from the very beginning. Andreas thought he was going to get a regrettable hook up out of things, and then he thought it was going to be a few of them, and it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke went from the hot, fun, surprisingly good in bed client Andreas had completely unprofessionally fucked — and not just once, but a few times, and then a handful — to even more surprisingly good company outside of bed, to something Andreas didn’t quite have a name for. Someone who was gone even more than Andreas was, someone Andreas started to miss when he was gone. Andreas was the one staying put, most of the time, but Luke was the one always watching him like he’d disappear the moment he closed his eyes.

The look hasn’t changed, and Andreas imagines it means the same thing now as it did then, Luke who doesn’t blink, Luke who jumps both feet first, Luke the romantic.

It doesn’t feel as overwhelming now, though Andreas suspects he’ll be spending some time thinking about just how quickly Luke was on board. How quick they both were — Andreas can’t pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming, what’s already here, can’t pretend that isn’t something he wants, when he could end things with a word.

But he doesn’t. This time Andreas lets himself look back, and when Luke catches him at it, he doesn’t let himself look away.

[miscellaneousramblings]

Maybe???

Ig that separating the two seasons feels like a cope but I have trouble reconciling them in my head rn.

Season 1 was fun to watch because its animation is literally mind-boggling and revolutionary, but it also had some genuinely touching, dare I say even thought-provoking moments. Not everything was perfect and fandom actually had fun poking at the holes because the show didn't have the time to say everything, but at the same time all the clues and more importantly the character beats were present. So even if we had to infer some stuff it still rang true I think, because it was actually supported by the text.

In season 2 the text is weak because there is no time at all. We go from personal stakes to cosmic stakes in less than 10 episodes. Even the most skilled writers can't pull this off. So with a few exceptions we are left with scenes that don't feel earned, dialogue that feels marvel-ised and a shitton of stuff that gets straight-up skipped over (as in "oh yes, this happened but we don't have the time to give you dialogue. have one visual cue instead"). It really shows with the "music videos" (too many of them) and the music itself too, which was way better in s1. So fandom will still probably have fun filling the holes but at this point each of us can make up our own version of the show, the relationships, the characters' motivations, etc. because the canon "skeleton" has become paperthin. Also personally I didn't have a lot of fun watching this season, especially Act III.

Those are my two cents anyway.

stating to think there’s an inverse correlation between how good media is and how easily fandomizable it is 😁

[violenteconomics]

so it’s pretty popular in this fandom for the overblotters to have a support group going on, and that’s all well and good and we’ve got a lot of amazing stuff out of it (shameless segue into compelling you to read the “girls in wonderland” series by the lovely jxnebug on ao3, please, it’s awesome), but can you just. like. imagine for a second that everybody else has a support group too, because goodness gracious, do the people who have to witness the overblots need so much therapy.

like. i imagine that it starts off with the first-years and their weekly ramshackle hangouts, and then they all start venting to each other about all the trauma they’ve gone through in the past year, which, thanks to yuu, becomes an unofficial, very unqualified support group.

ace: hey. i’m ace trappola. during my first week at night raven college i had to wear a collar around my neck at all times and didn’t even get to sleep in my dorm, which is probably for the best, because i couldn’t really sleep with that stupid collar anyway. i slaved away making a chestnut tart to apologize to my housewarden with, only to have my apology literally thrown into the trash. and when my best friend tried to stick up for me, they got called stupid and undereducated. and my other upperclassmen just enabled him. i almost got killed twice in that week, and many more times afterwards.

deuce: hello, i’m deuce spade. and i promised myself that i would become the best person i could be for my mom, only to fall short of my own expectations every single time, except for when i literally sign my soul away. i had such high hopes for my housewarden and upperclassmen to guide me to a better future, only to come to the realization that they’re even more flawed than i am. so, basically, there is nobody who can help me now, and i’m doomed to the path i made with my own hands.

jack: this is so unnecessary. jack howl. basically what deuce said, but combine that with the fact that, when you first met, your upperclassmen didn’t have any problems with getting rid of you if it meant their path to victory was assured. your dormmates will never admit that they’re wrong and sooner rip your ear out than say they like you to your face. but you care a lot about them, and deep down, maybe they care a lot about you, too. but the only thing they can do that would prove that in your eyes is improve themselves. become better. be the people you thought they were when you got here. and that is the one thing they will never do.

epel: howdy. my name is epel felmier. my housewarden is all about personal improvement. he’s right to think that i need to rework my thinking about gender and strength, because they are not equal in any way. other than that, though, he has no investment in me as a person. i’m not allowed to eat whatever i want. if he tells me to perform, that’s what i do. if i slip up even a little, he scolds me for being lazy. my posture must be perfect, my diction clear, and my hair flawless. he puts the same pressure on himself to be perfect, so it’s not like he’s a hypocrite. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? he likes me for the things i do — and he hates the person i am.

ortho: hello, world. my name is ortho shroud. not the real one, though. i’m just a poor simulacrum of him that my big brother forged from the flames of his grief and the metal of his self-loathing. but even though idia put his soul into constructing me, i can never truly be the person he wants me to be. my only purpose, and i can’t even do it correctly. for almost my entire life up to this point, idia loved his dead brother more than he loved me, and i just had to be okay with that, because the nature of the STYX organization mean that i didn’t have anybody else. and the one time i tried to change that, i corrupted my brother and almost ended the world.

sebek: greetings. i am sebek zigvolt. i nearly perished recently. the prince that i admired so dearly tried to put everybody to sleep, and in trying to stop him, i very nearly lost a dear friend of mine to the secrets hidden inside his father’s brain. the whole time, i felt distinctly out of place. it was like i was watching one of those soap operas master lilia loves so much. only ever looking. never touching. right before me was a broken family that i only wanted to see come back together, but i couldn’t fix it. for it was not my family to fix. i was helpless. useless. but that is nothing new.

yuu: …hi. i’m yuu. i was ripped out of my home and isekai’d into this world that’s filled with mentally unstable magic people who tried to kill me more than a couple times. i am currently living paycheck-to-paycheck while going to school full-time thanks to a crow who doesn’t know how to adult. and clearly, we all have a lot of work to do.

this goes on for a couple of weeks with just them, but then sebek decides to invite silver, because he’s prolly not doing so hot post-book 7 (and also, silver is basically the freshmen’s official big brother at this point, let’s be real) and then silver invites kalim a few weeks later, who invites ruggie, and then it just sort of snowballs out of control from there.

[trender-official]

do you have any general ideas for what a yandere jayce talis x reader would be like

i have MANY thoughts about this. first of all i don’t think jayce would ever know he’s yandere. and i don’t think you’d recognize it at first either!! i think he’d be very protective after the attack on the council but not so much before hand. i think he’d be very trusting of you, honestly. i don’t think he’d ever be scared of you leaving more so of you being TAKEN. i’ll give some specifics bellow the cut

let’s start off with you and him in a viktor type scenario

you’re lab partners

i think this is where he would trust you the most

he knows you’re not scheming or anything like that

he genuinely believes you would never turn your back on him

(which means if you do it gets… bad. only time he’d get violent)

you’d likely be spending most of your time together early on(pre councilor jayce)

so he doesn’t feel the need to worry!

but after…

oh boy.

he would station guards outside your lab… just in case

one with you when you go to lunch too

ESPECIALLY if you’re publicly together

he would definitely not let you go anywhere by yourself

he would usually listen to you on matters, except when it came to hextech in weapons

he wouldn’t give a fuck lol

he’d have too much at stake

he’d definitely use his status on the council to manipulate you (not that he knows that’s what he’s doing)

he’d tell you “it would be so easy for people to target you without enforcers there! they’d do anything to get to me”

and you honestly can’t argue

which is what starts to sow anger in you

because your so used to being able to argue with him and that being your means of communication

but he’d just have so much power over you

you wouldn’t be equals anymore (not that he’d see that)

now if you were in mel’s position

i think he’d be a lot more protective and a lot less trusting

he’d definitely feel intimidated by your power and work to undermine that a lot

this is the only time i can imagine him using his physical strength to overpower you

it makes him feel better about himself

he’d probably try to force you to retire

especially after the attack

not because he thinks your incompetent!

but because he’s scared for you

he doesn’t even think HE should be a councilor after that LOL

he would probably try to bribe your guards for info on what you’re doing

just to keep tabs

he’d probably try to distract you from arguments with affection too

because he doesn’t like to argue with you anymore

he doesn’t want to be forced to see that you’re equals

even though he’d never admit if you weren’t

he’d probably want to take the relationship more public

so he could guilt you with it

because it would make you look bad if you broke up!!

very centered on looks in this scenario

he’d def dress you up a lot

very gilded cage core

would want to be married super quick

and have kids(if ur able ofc)

you have to continue great minds!!

anyway i think this one is worse

to say the least

either way, jayce is honestly not the worst yandere to end up with!! he’s probably the best in arcane at least.

[f1swiftiee]

Tipsy - LN4

pairings: lando x fem!reader, leclerc!reader

summary: lando has a massive crush on his rival's teammate, and his efforts to catch her attention never actually catches her attention, but rather everyone else's, until one day, when all things go downhill.

a/n: hii!! sorry it took me so long to write this! not proofread, so feel free to point out any mistakes. i changed a few details to make the story make sense. thanks and enjoy! there will be a part 2!

warnings: drinking, unplanned pregnancy, mention of sex, and thats all i think??

______________________________________________________________

It was no secret that Lando had a crush on you. Everyone seemed to just simply know that he was head over heels for you. Well, everyone, except you. Lando had tried countless times to make a move, but each time, you either didn't notice or took it as a joke. Lando was determined. No matter how long or how much effort it was going to take, he was willing to do it, for you.

౨ৎ

The sunlight of Miami shone through the blinds in your hotel room, which you were sharing with your brother, Charles, and his girlfriend, Alex. You didn’t mind staying with them, as you and Alex got along quite well. As soon as you fully woke up you saw that Alex was still asleep and that Charles had already left to head to the track. Slowly, you got out of bed and walked over and woke up Alex. Together, you two got ready and headed out the door.

On the drive there, Alex was driving, and the conversation somehow drifted over to which drivers would win the Dutch Grand Prix that day. “I bet you $100 that Charles is going to beat everyone today,” Alex said.

“You’re just saying that because he’s your boyfriend. I bet that Lando’s gonna win today. He’s been performing a lot better recently. Have you noticed that?” You had your mind set on Lando, for no reason at all, but you had a strange gut feeling.

“Maybe that's because a certain someone has been going to all the races recently,”, looking over and winking at you.

“Huh? I didn’t say anything about me? I was just saying that Lando and the team have been doing a lot better recently, unlike a certain someone. *cough* *cough* Charles.”

“No way you just said that! He got P5 yesterday!”

“Yeah exactly, and who was P1 in quali?” As you said that, Alex pulled the car into the parking lot and parked the car. After this, the two of you got out of the car and headed towards the garage, but not without passing the McLaren garage.

As you and Alex were passing McLaren, the two of you heard a voice, which you knew all too well call out. "Y/n!" You turned around and saw Lando standing a few feet away, beaming. He began running and quickly caught up to you and Alex.

"Y/n! I didn't know you were coming to the grand prix! You know, you should ditch Charles in the Ferrari garage and come over to the McLaren garage. Plus, Oscar brought Lily," Lando said, but not without his whole face turning red.

"Lily!! Wait, Lando, I'd love to, but I can't just leave Alex! Wait, can she come too?"

Quickly, Alex interrupted and said, "No, no, Y/n you should go to the McLaren garage. Also, I have Rebecca, so I won't be alone. Plus, Charles would kill me if he heard I was in McLaren."

"Soo, is that a yes, Y/n?" Lando said, and this time, even you could sense the excitement in his tone.

"Yeah, sure! Alex, I'll catch up with you later sometime during or after the race."

And with that, Lando led the way back to his garage. He showed you his car and led you towards his driver's room. As you were stepping into his driver's room, you spotted Lily, who was passing by with Oscar. "LILY!!" you called out.

"Y/N!!" Lily yelled. Lily started running towards you, and the two of you shared a tight embrace.

"Lily! It's been forever since I've last seen you! You haven't come to any of the races recently. Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you about the cute guy I saw at this new cafe!"

Upon hearing that, Lando felt a sudden pang of jealousy. He decided that he was going to make a move that day so that no other guy would have the chance to date you before he did. Oscar glanced at Lando, and he was easily able to read Lando's face and understand what he was thinking. "Mate, if you really like her, you should do it. You know, she'd probably say yes," Oscar said, empathetically.

౨ৎ

It was now time for the drivers to head to the garages and get into the cars. You were still in the McLaren garage, and you were standing with Lily. The two of you's hearts were racing like crazy, as they always did before a race began. The drivers lined up, and the lights went out. The first half of the race went smoothly, until lap 38. Lando, Charles, and Max were all battling for the first-place spot. Not to mention that Carlos, Oscar, and George were not too far behind as well. The battle continued for a few more laps until Lando somehow managed to pull through and take the lead. Seeing this made you and Lily quite anxious, so you both talked for a bit and took a break from staring at the screen. After a few minutes, loud commotion was heard from the screen, and you both looked up to see a papaya car cross the line, earning first place. Seeing this, you blurted out, "Was that Oscar?"

Lily replied, "No! That was Lando! Oh my gosh! He won!! BY TWENTY SECONDS?" "WHAT??"

After learning that, you couldn't help but smile. You were so proud of Lando, after all that hard work that he had put into his performance and training, and it finally paid off. Seeing this, Lily smirked at you and said, "Ooh, someone's got a crush!"

"No! He's just a friend, Lily. I'm just really proud of him."

"Whatever you say," Lily said while shrugging her shoulders.

As you watched the drivers on the podium, you couldn't help but stare and Lando. The way his messy curls sat atop his head so perfectly and the way his green eyes reflected the sun was just so beautiful. The way that he did his champagne pop simply mesmerized you. You couldn't help but notice that he did look down at you quite a few times while standing on the top podium, with Max in second, and Charles in third.

Later that night, most of the grid went to a club nearby to celebrate and party. You were planning to meet them there afterward, with a few of your friends. After you arrived, you saw Carlos, Charles, Rebecca, and Alex at the bar and headed over to them. As the night went on, you and the drivers kept downing drinks, but no one was nearly as drunk as you were.

"Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?" one of your friends asked, as she approached the group.

"Uhh no? I thought she was with you guys? No?" Carlos said, clearly concerned.

"Yeah, me too. I thought she was with you too," Charles said.

"While we're on this topic of missing people, has no one else noticed that the race winner's gone too?" Daniel added. As soon as Daniel said this, everyone seemed to understand simultaneously.

"Daniel! Lando and my sister? Seriously?" Charles denied.

"You never know, mate," Oscar said, a large smirk evident on his face.

______________________________________________________________

austria gp

Later that day, all the drivers and wags were meeting up at 7 for dinner before the race weekend began, and you were planning to attend. It was currently 4 PM, and you were feeling quite nauseous. This had been going on for the past month or so. At first, you thought you had caught the stomach bug or something, but you were beginning to think that it wasn't.

_____________________________________________________________

30 minutes had passed since you had texted Alex, and you heard the door of your hotel room swing open. "Y/n!! I'm back!!!" Alex exclaimed. Alex ran over and hopped onto the bed next to you.

"What'd you get?" you asked, reaching over for the bag, "Wait, wasn't Charles with you?"

"No, he said he was gonna go with Carlos and that he would meet me at the restaurant," Alex replied.

You began digging through the bag, "Advil, Tylenol, Ibeuprofen... did you really need to buy all of this?" you remarked.

"Duh! I didn't know what you needed, so I got everything!"

You continued rummaging through the bag, and felt some sort of box at the bottom "Thanks Alex- wait what's this?" you questioned. You pulled out the white box and read the front, "PREGNANCY TEST" "Really?" you questioned.

"You never know! Better to be safe than sorry!" Alex said, shrugging her shoulders, "You might as well take it just to be sure!"

______________________________________________________________

You took the test in the bathroom, with Alex waiting outside the door. By now, it was almost 5 PM. "Can I come in?" Alex asked. "Yeah, one sec," you said while washing your hands. After you dried your hands, you opened the door and let Alex in. As soon as she stepped into the bathroom, your alarm went off. "Okay, you check for me. I'm too scared," you said nervously.

Alex flipped over the test. "OH MY GOD! Alex exclaimed.

"What? What? Is it bad? Let me see!" you said.

Alex handed the test and you gasped in horror at the test. "PREGNANT" This couldn't actually be happening, right? You were pregnant? You thought of what you had done the past two months and of anyone you had slept with, and one name came to your mind, Lando.

"OH MY GOD! I'M AN IDIOT!" you exclaimed, tears brimming your eyes.

"Hey, hey. It's okay! Do you know who the dad is? Wait, is it Lando?" Alex said, trying to calm you down and figure everything out.

Suddenly, all the memories came flooding back into your mind. Lando had driven you home that night, and you two ended up in the backseat of his McLaren. "Lando. Me and him had sex in his car when he took me back to my hotel room in Miami," you said, sobbing, "I can't believe this! I'm not ready to be a mom yet!"

"I'll go ahead and let Charles know that we won't be attending tonight," Alex told you, pulling out her phone.

______________________________________________________________

Charles and Carlos drove to the dinner, and Carlos could tell that something was off with Charles. "Charles, you've been acting off all night. Tell me what's wrong; I can tell when you have something bothering you," Carlos said, trying to pry an answer out of him.

"I-I'm not really sure. You know how y/n and Alex were supposed to attend the dinner, right?"

"Yeah," Carlos said, nodding. As he and Charles continued talking, they pulled into the parking lot and began making their way into the restaurant.

"Well, Alex texted me randomly and said they wouldn't make it, and when I asked her why, she wouldn't answer me. I think something's wrong with y/n. I told her I was going to come back to the hotel, and she freaked out on me. I don't know what to d-" Suddenly, Charles was interrupted by the ringing to Carlos's phone. He pulled it out and answered.

"Er, Hello?" Carlos said, sitting down at the table, waving to the other drivers.

"Hey, sorry for the short notice, but I can't make it tonight. Neither can Kika, Lily Z, Lily M, or Carmen."

"What, you too?"

"Yeah, I got to go! I'll call you later!"

Carlos glanced back at his phone. "CALL ENDED" Upon seeing this, he put his phone away back into his pocket.

The dinner continued, but Charles and Carlos couldn't shake away the feeling that something was wrong. None of the other drivers knew what was going on either.

౨ৎ

lando's pov

Lando was disappointed, as he was going to take this as an opportunity to try to talk to you after the night you spent together because you had been avoiding him ever since. He decided to send you a text, to see if you were okay and ask why none of the wags were attending.

He started at his phone for a moment, hoping for a response, but got none. He checked his phone a few minutes later and saw that he had been left on read.

౨ৎ

Back at the hotel room, it was as hectic as ever. Y/n was a complete mess, her mascara running down her face, as the wags sat around her, trying to comfort her.

"Are you completely sure you're pregnant? I mean, you only took one test. It wouldn't hurt to take another one just to be sure," Lily M said.

In unison, the rest of the wags nodded in agreement, and Carmen ran over to the corner, where the pharmacy bag was lying and got out another test. She walked back over and handed it to you.

Slowly, you got up and walked over to the bathroom, a million thoughts racing through your mind. Was this really happening? Were you even ready to be a mom? How would Lando react? Would he have time to be a dad, considering his F1 schedule?

The timer on your phone rang, and the wags sat on the bed, waiting in anticipation. You, however, could not bring yourself to turn over the test. "Hey, can someone come in here and see the test? I'm too scared to flip it over!" you called out. All the wags rushed over, and suddenly there was a whole group of you in the small hotel bathroom. Kika was the first to grap the test, and she gasped as she saw the result. "PREGNANT" She showed the test to everyone in the bathroom. Your knees gave out, and you slid down the wall, into a sitting position, leaning against the wall.

Lily Z crouched down and gave you a hug. "Hey, everything's gonna be okay. We're all here for you!", she said while comforting you.

The rest of the wags squatted down to face you, and they all assured you that no matter what happened, they would all be there for you.

part 2 coming soon!!

[fishmech]

I just don't get the deal with demanding a one bedroom specifically. Studio apartment is more than fine for single person, often even more space for the money in a lot of places.

And if we want to talk about "the point of minimum wage" as originally constructed, well you have to get used to pre-wwii notions of what people would be living in, particularly in cities but also in a great deal of towns. You would be expected to live in a rooming house arrangement, which sometimes were just large houses and other times were even midrise buildings.

You wouldn't have a full apartment, typically just a bedroom with maybe your own sink and faucet. In nicer places you might even have your own private toilet, but usually there were communal bathrooms. And the kitchen was communal too, often with the "house" providing at least a breakfast and dinner, whether provided by the management or made in lieu of partial rent payment by residents. And usually you'd have a shared parlor or living room as well as a shared dining room, meant for socializing with fellow residents or some invited guests.

This whole system made for relative small but also quite cheap living space, particularly for young single people, the elderly poor, and married couples who weren't having kids yet. Making your way up to an apartment where you weren't sharing communal rooms was generally something that took some time to be able to afford. And due to the decent savings you could build up with inhouse meals and all, and the general low price of a bedsit like room , some people who could otherwise afford moving up to the private apartment as long as they could.

As an example, all of my grandparents lived in such accommodations while they were single, except the one who lived with her relatives. It's simply what was done, with my one grandma being in a specialized boardinghouse arrangement for young women working in the city, while my grandfathers were in different mixed gender and mixed age boarding homes.

Minimum wage was founded around that as the basic model for low income worker housing away from family, and frankly has never really been adjusted upward to "distinct 1 bedroom apartment" levels.

To be honest I think a lot of people who struggle now with living on their own, regardless of whether they're making minimum, would be better served if society was more open to boarding house living again, especially to help people stay in their communities - among other things these housing systems did a lot to prevent people from ending up in long term homelessness while still making sure they got to have private rooms and storage that most homeless shelters today refuse to provide - but in a lot of places they've been all but barred from operating. Usually by late 20th century excuses of ensuring urban renewal I might add.

[mamasfavourite]

Hi your axel fic was really good! I was wondering if you could write a fic about kwon and a Miyagi-Do reader.Enemies to lovers lots of tension.

thank you so much and thank you aswell for requesting, i had sm fun with writing this!! i hope you enjoy :)

locker room

pairing: kwon jae-sung x reader

summary: kwon and y/n hated eachother, because of a little incident on the first day.. and because of the karate thing. but kwon can’t help but flirt around a little bit.

warnings: stupid rivalry, enemies to lovers!, kissing, making out, kwon is sassy, flirting, swearing,

you were so excited to be on the miyagi-do team for the sekai takai! you weren’t captain, but you didn’t mind at all because you had your best friend, sam, there with you and you knew your capabilities under pressure.

it was practically your natural state at this point :)

you and sam decided to share a room in barcelona. which was probably for the better, considering neither of you wanted to share with the boys, except for maybe sam and miguel.

after an insanely long flight, you arrived at the hotel and immediately dropped your backpack to your bed and felt each tired muscle in your back start to decompress.

you went to shower, wanting to rinse off the dirt from travelling. after washing your hair and body, you stepped out and dried yourself off. you brushed through your knotted, wet hair and put on some baggy shorts and an off-shoulder tshirt.

it was around 5:30pm, which meant it was around 8am back home, most of your team wouldn’t even be awake yet. you went back into the main area of the room and saw sam laying on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

“i’m gonna go down to the buffet and see if i can grab something to eat, do you want anything?” you asked her and she wearily looked up from her phone and replied with a “no, thanks!”

you smiled and acknowledged her response before you put on some sneakers and grabbed your phone and room key from on top the dresser, and headed out. you made your way to the elevator and managed to find the open buffet nearby the reception.

the buffet was relatively empty, which wasn’t surprising due to the lack of people who typically had an appetite at 5:30pm. there was one or two people in the corner, eating something you couldn’t quite make out, and someone else on the right hand side of the room.

you grabbed two pieces of a brown bread at the back of the serving tray. once you did, you grabbed a selection of butter, avocado and some smoked salmon, putting it beside the bread on your plate. yum!

you grabbed some tissues, and a knife and fork and began to walk back towards the elevator. the elevator was empty, so your ride was quite peaceful. you held the plate with both hands, the knife and fork, and napkin were balanced in your right hand.

you were so focused on holding onto your plate and keeping it steady, that as soon as you heard the elevator doors open with a ding!, you stepped out and immediately collided with a tall figure infront of you.

you watched in horror as the slimier foods slid down the person’s body and your plate landed on the carpet with a soft thump. you tilted your head upwards to look at their reaction before you frantically apologised.

of course, he was fucking gorgeous. the first enemy you make for yourself in barcelona was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. he glared down at you which such anger. “what the fuck?” he said, with a thick, korean accent.

damn even his voice was hot!

as you came back up again you began to apologise. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to spill that on you, i can help you clean it or-“ you paused your rambling as you watched the guy continue to glare at you angrily through your speech.

his gaze was filled with nothing but fury. “don’t let it fucking happen again.” he bumped your shoulder as he walked past you, to the elevator. you knelt back down to the floor to clean up as much as you could, before you just went back to your room.

you saw him again the next day. the sekai takai had organised a field trip to the barcelona aquarium. there was a lot of different people there, but only one really stood out to you, and that was kwon.

well, clearly he stood out, i mean he was yelling at everyone, challenging all of the dojo captains to a kicking contest, and of course, robby couldn’t just step aside for once.

you were peacefully drinking your water, as the boys spoke, and it was safe to say you had zoned out completely. that was until you heard what they were betting. you coughed and spluttered, putting your water bottle into sam’s hands and struggling to speak for a second.

“sorry what?” you asked, with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. kwon’s head turns to you with his signature smirk, one you only noticed now, as before he had only thrown scowls your way.

“i said..” he paused and took one step closer to you. “if he wins, he gets my room, if i win, i get yours.” he delivered with a wink. you felt your cheeks heat up, confused as to why this was because you were enraged.

“what, how is that fair, i’m not even playing?” you answered, angry that your room was being gambled away without your consent. your weight shifted from one foot to the other.

“oh relax, sweetheart, i wouldn’t kick you out or anything.” he flirted with you once more before he turned his body back to robby and held out his hand

“deal.” robby answered, and they shook on it. you gasped, and pushed robby in the chest. but at the same time, you were confused because why would this hot guy from the elevator, who DESPISES you, want the key to your room?

despite his skills, robby somehow lost the competition and you find yourself face to face with kwon. “hand over the room key, princess.” you wanted nothing more than to wipe the stupid smirk off his face and tell him to leave you alone. your response was only a little bit nicer than that. “no.” you replied, your gaze shifting around the room, as you felt scared to look him in the eyes.

“if you’re gonna try to reject me, at least look in my eyes when you do it.” he spoke, his voice low and commanding. something about it made you wanna listen, and so you did.

you stared into his dark eyes and repeated yourself. “i don’t want to give you my room key.” he chuckled to himself, under his breath. you maintained eye contact, not wanting to pull away.

he rolled his eyes at your attitude. “okay, well i’m gonna talk to your captain over there, and sort this out because a deal is a deal.” he replied and started walking over to robby.

they argued back and forth for a while but in the end, you didn’t have to sleep in a room with kwon. much to his dismay, robby gave up him and miguel’s room and had to share with the other boys.

your next interaction happened on the day of the final. cobra kai had narrowly escaped elimination and were going to fight in the last round. the matches were 30 minutes from starting and you had only then realised that you wouldn’t have another opportunity to go back inside the locker rooms and you left your water bottle there.

you ran over to the shared locker rooms, one you coincidentally shared with cobra kai, as soon as you arrived, you found yourself stopped in the doorway watching as the very guy you had secretly hoped to see was there, packing up some of his gear.

the large metal door was propped open by a small wooden doorstop, a detail that you had missed in the midst of your staring. you took a step forward and knocked over the doorstop. you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.

kwon turned around at this and let out a small laugh at your misfortune, but he shut up as soon as he realised the door was shut and could not be opened from the inside.

“do you have any idea what you just did.” he practically growled at you. he was absolutely enraged, but he didn’t seem as angry as he had been during the elevator incident. you apologised but he still seemed quite angry.

you sat down against the wall, and he sat on a bench across from you. there was quite a loud silence between you, except for the quiet whirring of the fan above you. you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of kwon. he bothered you, and confused you and made you feel things and ugh.

you hated him, but most of all you hated his karate. wait.. maybe you could start a conversation about that! “what got you into cobra kai?” you asked him.

you looked up at him and he met your gaze. he swallowed, and left the silence there for a moment as he thought of what to say.

“well, i was in a dojang before, do you know what that is?” he replied and you nodded along, your interest piqued.

“so my kwanjang was incredibly conservative. she knew one style of teaching and disciplined anyone who didn’t feel comfortable with it. it was rough, it was such a fucked up environment, but then sensei kreese came and she never relaxed but he helped me seize my power, and i haven’t really looked back since then.”

he spoke with conviction and you were surprised by his sincerity. you thought for a moment, never taking your eyes off his and replied. “i get that.”

a beat passed. “but cobra kai is angry, it’s viscous, and there’s no ethics to it. no mercy is not how the real world works.”

he swallowed and nodded, accepting the weight of your words, and you were impressed that he was so considerate of you. he matched your behaviour, taking his time to think of what to say before he replied.

“well, look. at the end of the day, i have to look out for myself. i know who i am and no dojo can change it.”

you accepted his answer, truth be told, you fully agreed. and your impression of him completely shifted. you shivered slightly, the room had turned quite cold. kwon noticed and you watched as he removed the cobra kai hoodie he wore over his gi.

he offered it to you which you gladly accepted, and flushed a little. he scooted across the floor to hand it over to you.

he was really close and he brushed his fingers over your wrist as he handed it to you. you put it on, and he felt something inside him flutter as he saw you in his clothes.

you glanced at him and he was so close you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. you couldn’t feel your fingers or the emptiness of the room because all you paid attention to was his gaze, that was still never left you.

his expression turned vulnerable as he put a hand to your cheek. “please don’t hit me for this…” he whispered, as he leaned in close to you and kissed you.

his lips were soft and you couldn’t help but wrap your fingers around his collar to pull him closer to you. you kissed him with passion and at some point, you pulled back, out of breath.

he seemed even more vulnerable for a moment, thinking he was just rejected. “do you want me to stop?” he asked you, his voice laced with a worry that you found difficult to detect.

you panted for a second, your hands never leaving his collar and your eyes never leaving his. “just the opposite, please.” you mumbled breathily against his lips as you pulled him back in, reconnecting your lips.

[super-ion]

The Engineer

I catch a glimpse of the pilot as she is wheeled towards the med bay. Her eyes have that telltale glaze of just having been wrenched out of herself.

I've never spoken a single word to her, but for a brief moment as the gurney slides by, those eyes briefly clear, ice blue pinning me to the spot. She raises an emaciated arm and her hand almost seems to beckon to me before something in the gurney clicks and whirs and she slips back into catatonia.

That brief moment of clarity, that piercing gaze, unsettles me. She recognized me.

It's neural bleed. I know it has to be. She doesn't know me, but Morrigan does.

Good god. In the pilot's present state of post combat haze, she probably doesn't even know where she ends and the machine begins.

Does neural bleed work both ways? Is it her head that I'm about to climb into?

My wrist strap buzzes. I have a job to do and I am late.

The pilot is a problem for the med team and the psychs.

The machine is my problem.

I hurry down the corridor, keeping my head down, avoiding the eyes of every passerby.

I don't like people.

I don't like how their eyes follow me. I don't like the whispered gossip that follows me.

One of the techs is waiting for me at the vestibule.

I don't know his name.

All clear, he says to me. Time to work your magic.

He says it without sarcasm. Others have been less kind.

Even so, he can't quite hide the leer as I strip down to the skinsuit. I don't have the physique of a pilot. My body hasn't been subjected to the stresses that ravage their bodies. Unlike them, I have fat and muscle and the skinsuit clings to every curve of my body.

I force a cursory smile and try to forget him as I walk barefoot to my destination.

The vestibule is small, windowless. It's impossible to assess the scale of the machine from here. The only part visible to me is roughly four square meters of pitted and scarred metal plating framing the access hatch and the pilot's cradle beyond.

B0-987T the stenciled lettering reads. And below, in flowing script, is “The Morrigan”.

She's a Javellin class, medium weapons fire support unit. She isn't meant to be on the front lines in a skirmish, but one-on-one, she can hold her own against a Wraith. Which is exactly what happened only a few hours ago.

I place a bare palm on the bulkhead. She thrums with some distant vibration. Her reactor is still online, still in the early stages of drawdown as she transitions to dock power.

“Hey beautiful,” I say to her.

I think of the pilot. I think of piercing blue eyes and I think of neural bleed.

I flinch my hand away.

The tech looks at me, asks if I'm alright. I'm fine, I tell him.

I climb through the hatch and into the cradle.

I feel like an interloper here. The cradle isn't calibrated for my body. Everything still smells like the pilot. Mingled with the smell of the machine is her sweat and her adrenaline and the particular scented soap that she prefers.

There is a faint whirring as her cameras track my movements from a dozen angles. The access ports open to receive me.

Against my better judgment, I imagine eagerness for this exchange.

This is immediately followed by an all too familiar sense of inadequacy. The engineers’ rig is not nearly as all encompassing as a pilots’. It's only the most basic neural interface. No haptics. No neurotransmitter feedback. No access to the suite of sensors studded throughout her hull.

I can't interface with her the way her pilot can.

My rig is a remnant from basic training. The pilot corps wanted me for my exceptional ratings in synchrony and neuro-elasticity, but after serval training exercises, they determined that I didn't have the temperament for the battlefield. I froze up too easily.

A neural rig is a massive investment and removing one will fuck a person up a hell of a lot more than installing one. The selection process is designed to weed out washouts before we even get to installation, but some of us still slip through the cracks. Most end up reassigned to logistics, operating loader mechs or piloting long haul supply frigates. But my aptitudes made me ideal for the engineering corps, so here I am.

Morrigan senses my mood and the cradle shifts slightly, aligning itself to my dimensions. Her eagerness to connect morphs into a sort of tender reassurance. It's a slippery slope, ascribing human emotions to these machines, but she does seem genuinely happy to see me.

I can never be part of what she and her pilot have, but I can be part of something in my own way.

The pilot knows about me, she would even without neural bleed. Does she envy the relationship I have with her mech? Does she envy that I can exist both together and apart with the machine?

Is she jealous of us?

Morrigan slips her jacks into my rig and my mind enters hers and I feel tension leave my body. Some dull ache that I wasn't even consciously aware of ebbs within me.

My senses dull and my visual cortex is fed a series of diagnostic logs and telemetry streams. The techs have access to the exact same data, but Morrigan highlights particular data points that she and the pilot flagged. I log them in the engineering report.

A wireframe schematic of the battlefield spreads out in my awareness. Green markers for our battlegroup. Red markers for the pack of Wraith interlopers.

I hear the ghost of music, strange and ambient, like whale song. The first time I heard it, I asked the techs about it. They had no idea what I was talking about. One even suggested I get an eval for some psych leave.

Later I realized Morrigan was singing to me. Or rather she was interpreting tightbeam comm links as something my brain could process. A human mind can't possibly interpret the full datastream, but with Morrigans's rendition, I can suss out the basic meanings. The battlegroup is a choir and Morrigan is playing me their song.

I caused quite a stir when I first made that connection and started flagging battle events the analysts had missed.

I survey the battlefield before me, reconstructed from feeds from TacCom and all the individual mechs.

Morrigan and I have done this enough times that she knows my preferred display layout, but she holds back, allowing me to pull off the virtual displays on my peripheral vision. There's an odd sort of intimacy to it, her letting me take charge like this.

God-knows how many tons of metal and ceramic and miles and miles of wire and optic fiber and see waits eagerly for me to start the playback sim. She wants to show off. She wants me to assess the actions of her and her pilot and tell them they did well.

Other engineers, few as we are, have mentioned similar experiences with their assigned machines.

“Alright,” I whisper so that only she can hear. “Show me the dance. Sing me the song.”