#it's his Binary and now they have to break it

[raayllum]

They said that, sometimes, we make sacrifices so that the ones we love don’t have to. It’s part of protecting them—part of protecting you. Taking on hard choices and going to dark places is an act of love. It’s a gift. So, please let me give you this gift, Callum. Stay safe, and stay in the light. / We emerged into darkness and quickly got to work. This place held both the promise of our salvation and the threat of our destruction.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)

I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.

On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.

But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.

And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.

When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.

Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.

[genderkoolaid]

In Los Angeles, one of the queerest cities in the United States, there are surprisingly few spaces where trans masculine individuals can find solidarity and community. For some, trying to fit into queer spaces after transitioning can be an isolating experience once they start to pass as men. “In general, people can’t necessarily look at me and know that I’m trans,” says Devyn Payne, jumping rope outside to warm up ahead of his match. It’s now different for him to enter LGBTQ+ rooms where lesbians might read him as a straight man or gay men might not recognize him as trans. “Passing as a Black man, my experience has been different in sapphic spaces ... I don’t necessarily feel welcomed [anymore].” The 27-year-old used to wrestle competitively in high school, but three years after coming out as trans he is now rediscovering his joy in the sport and reconnecting with the queer community in a different way — tonight by wrestling another trans man in a neon green jock strap under the alter ego “T-Payne.”

“Before I went to my first Trans Dudes of LA event, I had no trans men friends,” Payne says. “I can’t necessarily relate to [cisgender men]. So it’s great to have people who I can talk about the changes of being on testosterone.” [...] In this room full of transgender people, the weight of a gender binary disappears. Masculinity becomes play material, a performance to bend and break. People dressed for the part exude “Brokeback Mountain” homo-eroticism, another pair act out a construction worker role-play in a BDSM scene in which a plastic hammer is shoved in the mouth. Cal Dobbs, dressed for the part as a judge for the tournament, wears a white wig reminiscent of the founding fathers and a thong under his black robes. (“RBG, classic sex symbol,” Dobbs explained of his costume inspiration from the late Supreme Court Justice.) “Trans men and trans masculine people are redefining masculinity,” says the 27-year-old, who was the first trans person to run across the transcontinental United States. “[Wrestling] is a hyper masculine sport, [but the competitors] bring an element of humor and romance and cuteness to it that makes everyone feel really comfy and safe.” [...] In the weeks leading up to the big performance, Elías Naranjo and Arón Sánchez-Vidal had practiced their wrestling routine weekly for a month, familiarizing themselves with consent and boundaries to make sure they wouldn’t hurt each other. “I was asking them, ‘Is it OK if we kiss? Is it OK if I pick you up and grind on you?’ And he was like, ‘Yeah, I’m open to it,’ ” says Naranjo. But on the spot the two also decided to improvise as Sánchez-Vidal took his testosterone shot on the wrestling mat — a moment met with thunderous applause. The two entered the ring waving Mexican and Peruvian flags dressed as vaqueros. “EL VAQUERO... STR8 4 PAY?” read a sign that Sánchez-Vidal’s girlfriend had made to cheer on her partner. “There’s so much in being brown and trans and queer,” says Naranjo. “We want to show up and take up space ... we’re Peruvian, hot and trans.” The two won best partners, splitting a $150 cash prize at the end of the tournament. Inclusiveness was on the forefront of co-organizers Miller and Bandrowski’s minds as they planned this event. They prepped over 200 hot dogs to feed their hungry fans, a hot and heavy playlist to rally their attendees, and hired ASL interpreters to make the event accessible for deaf members of the queer community. This was their biggest event yet.

[cybertron-after-dark]

Average transformers g1 episode:

Megatron is attempting to black out the entire sky across a hundred mile radius and funnel all the sunlight into one, concentrated solar death ray to target a heavy duty solar panel he's having soundwave and the cassetticons build in order to convert it to energon. Then he plans to hit the autobot base with the death ray just for funsies. Starscream plans to push Megatron directly into the death ray, also just for funsies.

Optimus sends Wheeljack and Spike to deal with it, along with two bots you're pretty sure have not been in this show before this point, but you're kind of past asking how many of these fuckers were on the ark offscreen when it crashed. One of them has the worst fake Canadian accent you have ever heard, and the other's name sounds inexplicably dirty.

Starscream tries to get Megatron to stand in the spot he told Skywarp and Ramjet to direct the death ray, but is interrupted when Rumble asks why Starscream stuck him with extra work (a task Megatron assigned specifically to Starscream). This vexes Megatron. The autobots show up and try to figure out what the point of the blacked out sky is while Starscream attempts to talk his way out of it. Then the death ray goes off two feet away from Megatron, which only pisses him off further.

The Canadian bot yells "AH BINARY-BEAVERS!!" because the death ray caught him off guard and completely gives away the bots' position. Soundwave immediately fires on them. Gratuitous robot violence ensues. Spike is generally useless and tries chucking rocks at Rumble. Megatron is too busy trying to almost-murder Starscream to bother with the autobots and just lets Soundwave handle it.

Probably-an-innuendo-name-bot is luckily a flier and takes the chance to see what's blocking the sun now that their cover's blown anyway. He gets up there and the seekers are sticking tinfoil on the clouds to make the tops reflective. The writers are really just hoping you don't think too hard about it.

Skywarp starts firing on dirty-name and calls him a nerd. Dirty-name takes evasive action. Skywarp runs out of ammo and starts just chucking tin foil at him. Dirty-name calls him dumb and says his processor is made of spare toaster parts. Then he crash lands and canada-bot asks if dirty-name's wings are spare toaster parts as well. Wheeljack yells that they'll all be spare toaster parts if they don't focus on the decepticons. The death ray goes off again and barely misses the autobots. Wheeljack corrects himself to Melted spare toaster parts.

Dirty-name gives Wheeljack the rundown on the tinfoil clouds so he can figure out a way to get rid of them while Canada-bot fights Soundwave and the cassettes in the background. Spike is kind of helping too sort of almost. Those rocks hes chucking sure are damaging. Ravage gets straight up drop kicked. It cuts back to Wheeljack whipping up a good old fashioned Device™️.

Starscream flies up past the tinfoil barrier while Megatron shoots at him. All the holes he's shooting in the blackout barrier are just making more, slightly shittier death rays and the main one is losing concentration. One of them hits Megatron right in the optic and he keels over with an over the top screech. Starscream descends, breaking another hole in the tinfoil to see a golden opportunity.

"MEGATRON HAS BEEN BLINDED!!! I, STARSCREAM AM NOW YOUR LEADER!!!"

Wheeljack finishes his Device™️: A grenade that makes tinfoil entirely invisible, thus rendering the whole weapon unusable. The writers are hungover, please do not think about it too hard. Pretty please. Dirty-name doesn't know if he can throw it into one of the holes in the barrier on his own since he can't fly in robot mode and he cant throw in altmode. Spike offers to get on his back and throw it in for him if he can get close enough. And he's just SO good at throwing things. The other two agree he's their best shot, they're so happy spike is around, couldn't do it without him.

Starscream is hovering in the air as he gives his Decepticon Leader Acceptance Speech he's prepared for this very occasion, golden light streaming in from the him-shaped hole in the barrier. Dirty-name and spike zip past him and spike makes the best goddamn throw of his life. Before starscream can properly question the Fucking Audacity of these autobots interrupting him while he's trying to have a moment, the invisible explosion goes off that the animators are just happy they don't have to put that much effort into drawing. Starscream gets knocked out of the air and crashes directly onto Megatron. This vexes Megatron.

Sky's normal again. Don't worry that there's still tinfoil there, don't even fuckin worry about it dude. Spike and Dirty-name touch back down. Round of applause for spike for throwing super good. Wheeljack comments that he's just happy it blew up the way it was supposed to. Cue uncomfortably long laughing. Megatron manages to roll starscream off him and calls for a retreat.

Back at the decepticon base, Megatron has an eyepatch and is skulking. Starscream yaps about how it makes him look like a proper tyrant, brooding and battle scarred, and, dare he say, darkly handsome? This vexes Megatron.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

Pairing Rockstar!Eddie x Reader | friends -> lovers

Summary Eddie comes back to Hawkins during a break on his national tour, and realizes he lost touch with someone he cares about deeply: you [angst and fluff]

Word Count: 2.7k

Above, a blue sky melts into orange, bearing a falling sun that makes Lover’s Lake shimmer. Tree branches rustle in the breeze. Until Eddie showed up at your door, whispers of his return to Hawkins had been just that. If you were still in the habit of calling each other regularly, you reckon you would’ve been the first to know. There’s no skepticism now, as the two of you sit on the tailgate of a cherry-red F-150. It’d been a gift from him to Wayne that he had on loan for the outing. This is a spot where campervans usually staked out for the view, but the universe must’ve known the evening belonged to you two. 

There were so many things you told yourself you were going to say when he got back from the road, but the words were hard to find. Elation and confliction had decided that your heart would be the grounds for their tug-of-war. Time had a habit of doing that, muddling feelings. Blurring old lines.  

“Does it feel weird?” you ask. They’re the first words you’ve spoken in a while. It takes Eddie a second to realize you’re talking to him. 

He straightens up in apology. “Does what feel weird?” The hole in his jeans gives sight to the bruise on his knee. You study it, imagining the many ways it could’ve formed. Knee-sliding on stage, most likely. 

“Being back in Hawkins,” you say, meeting his gaze. 

The immediate answer that poses itself on the tip of his tongue is no. Then it occurs to him that what you’re really asking is if it feels weird to be back with you. To that, there is no concrete answer. No such thing as black and white. There’s only technicolor when it comes to you, so vivid and complex that he wished it was as simple as a binary. 

“I don’t know if I’d use the word weird.” 

“Different?” you supply. 

He lifts a shoulder. “That’s a little more like it,” he says. “Coming home always is.” 

You hum, twisting the gold bracelet around your wrist. There’s a silver one around his own and his fingers are adorned with bulky steel rings. More tattoos have found a home beneath his skin as well. The longer you study everything new about him, the more a look that hauntingly resembles grief blooms on your face. As if something that once belonged to the two of you had been lost to the passing of time. When the same sense begins to swell within his own chest, he tries to snub it out the best way he knows how, beckoning whatever levity may be waiting in the wings.  

“But a lot of things stayed the same. Like Mike,” he starts. “I thought he would’ve called it quits by the time I got back, but he’s still kicking around at the auto shop. I was more surprised to see him than he was to see me.” 

After teaching Eddie the little his father failed to teach him about cars, Mike Summerdale gave him his first steady job the summer before his senior year. Working at Starcourt hadn’t held up, neither did Family Video or any other ‘boring’ employment. Mike’s Tire & Auto Shop was the only gig he sustained before the world had bigger plans. Eddie was the type who needed to move around, work with his hands, be challenged. Mike was one of the only people who’d been keen enough to discern that. 

Working at the shop not only gave him a sense of stability, but it also gave him you. The evening you came by for a last minute oil change on your parent’s Peugeot 504—ten minutes before closing—was the day he learned you were even funnier and more down to earth than what he’d gathered from within the stuffy halls of Hawkins High. 

A smile starts on your own lips. “He was probably ready to put his best man back to work,” you say. “Your hands are all pretty now.” 

Scoffing, Eddie turns his palms up as if he’s prepared to prove you wrong. There’s calluses on his fingertips from playing guitar, but not much else. His hands are nowhere near as rugged as they were when he was a mechanic. Back when you’d finally had enough of his indifference, you remember getting him a special cream and even rubbing it into his hands yourself when he puppy-dog-eyed his way into it. Some nights, long after you were supposed to have been back at your parents place, you’d be sitting in his living room with the TV glow illuminating your faces as the scent of eucalyptus lingered in the air between you. 

Eddie follows your hand as you reach over to run your fingers over his palm. “If I gave you a socket wrench right now, you probably wouldn’t even know how to use it.” You’re shamelessly teasing him now. It feels good. 

A genuine smile pulls on his lips, eyes brighter as he looks over at you. Even in his amusement, his next words are thoughtful. “Some things you don’t forget.” 

Sobering words, more like. Memories begin to roll in one by one until they avalanche and you can’t help but relieve yourself of the pressure by shoveling it over to him. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” you ask. “After that we were together all the time.” 

Back when time was all you had. Twenty-four hours wasn’t the same anymore. There were more responsibilities to fill it with, different relationships to entertain. For a while, the only thought ticking in your minds was when you’d get to see each other again. When the phone calls stopped, the care never went away. Neither did the curiosity, the stress of not knowing how the other was doing or where they were in the world. Those concerns continued to ring on and on, reverberating down the hallways of want that built themselves within your hearts. 

The rouge tear that streams down your cheek is the pioneer of more to come. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat when he sees it, hand twitching once in his lap. The next time, he doesn’t stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears with his thumb. It’s a gesture meant to distract him from the fact that he’s the reason behind them. There’s no escaping the tidal wave of guilt that rushes in to drag him out to sea. You sniffle and shake your head to let him know that it’s okay, but his head is already under water. 

“I do remember,” it comes out quiet, thick. “The night we met—everything.” 

“Then what happened? What did I do wrong?” The wind is knocked out of him at that. “I know things changed so fast, but did everything before you left just get resigned to a spot on a timeline? Something for you to talk about to Rolling Stone?”  

Eddie tries to swallow around his guilt, but ends up choking on offense. 

“I never asked for any of this,” he asserts, hopping off the truck bed. “I may’ve begged God when I was a kid, but that’s ‘cause I didn’t know any better,” he says. “You don’t know what it’s been like. You don’t get to suggest that I stopped giving a shit.”

“Then what did you do, Eddie? Because that’s what it feels like.” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but there’s no way to reel it back in.

You can see the moment his stomach drops. It’s in the way his body grows tense, the faint color that rises to his cheeks, the light that wavers in his eyes. “You’ve been right here in Hawkins with all your friends and family three steps away. I’m the one who’s been in a new city every other night, cameras flashing wherever I go.” His voice remains level, but he talks with his hands like he always does. 

“I’ve been on autopilot for the past three months to make it back here with a semblance of sanity. So I’m sorry if I stopped picking up the phone to call. I was too busy trying to breathe with a goddamn elephant on my chest.” He paces away from you to run his hands through his hair. When he faces you again, he looks small. “This is all new to me. If you could just extend some grace.” 

Every word hangs heavy in the space between you. Which feels like miles. Eddie doesn’t huff or move or make any rash decision he’ll regret. He averts his gaze to refocus his attention on the lake. Its stillness feels like a mockery. There’s a dull thud as your feet meet the ground, followed by footsteps as you head into the woods. Despite every inch of you that wants to, you don’t look back. The feeling of his gaze is enough. 

He follows a few minutes after you’ve disappeared. The whole way, he wonders if his words were too harsh, if he’d gone about expressing himself the right way. The earthy crunch of his footsteps are soft as comes up behind you. You’re standing at The tree. The one everyone in Hawkins manages to come across in a lifetime, even if they decide not to leave their mark. The stories you heard about it growing up made it out to be a relic. 

Wound-Bearer was the name it had been given by a man from the class of ‘66, meant to immortalize the proof of love, romantic and platonic. Or at least bear a sign that it once existed. Looking at it now, more initials had been added since you and Eddie contributed to it your senior year. The carving stood out more than the rest, not because it was particularly noticeable or impressive, but because it was yours. Eddie stops a few paces away and spots it in seconds as he looks over your shoulder. 

Both of you hold your breath until you give in. 

“I didn’t mean to sound selfish. I’ve just been scared, Eddie.” You’re ashamed as you turn around to face him. “Scared that you didn’t want to talk anymore. That our friendship was fading away,” you say, scoffing a second later. “Now I sound like we’re in a movie.” 

A tenderness settles in his eyes that you don’t believe you deserve. “Our lives are a fucking movie,” he says, breathing out a chuckle. 

Things began to take off after he got scouted by the agent who’d flown out from California to visit family. You remember the dreams that had filled your head, each one of them somehow including you—you tagging along on the road, sitting front row at his shows, being right off camera during interviews. Reality proved itself to be nowhere near as sweet as your imagination. Later, when he signed to a label and was set for a national tour, the sacrifices of the limelight revealed themselves as pressing and real. 

Joining him in that new stage of his life meant leaving everything you’d ever known, bypassing university, being subject to thousands of eyes that just wanted to gawk. That’s why the day he left Hawkins was the day he left you behind. Even in his own mind, you not being his personal assistant was for the better. Him losing a sense of stability to chase his dreams didn’t mean you should be strapped to his side and subject to the same. 

At least you had a shot at creating a nice life for yourself. You were smart, talented, and someone worth building a life with. Music was all he had going. Leaving Hawkins was his only shot and it meant walking through the fire. 

A surprised sound escapes him when you crowd into his space to wrap your arms around him like he’s a soldier home from war. It’s the same type of hug Wayne had given him earlier that afternoon. It felt like love, like safety, like home. He melts into you, and the two of you stand like this until you remember that embraces aren’t meant to last forever. 

•••

Tonight, Eddie Munson takes it slow for the first time in his life. The speed limit signs on the side of the road dare him to go their limit. There’s hardly anybody on the roads to give him trouble for it either. It’s nice, the long way home always is. The radio plays low as the warm night air flows in through the widows. Eddie drives with his right hand, left arm hanging outside the truck. 

“Fuck, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he grouses as he brakes for a stop sign. There’s enough earnestness in his voice to make you startle as you track his gaze. 

On the opposite side of the street, the old location for Scoot’s Scoops sits idle with boarded windows and a dimmed sign. 

You heave a sigh. “They just relocated,” you assure, rubbing your chest to calm down. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Eddie’s eyes are apologetic as he looks over at you. “I damn near had one myself. Sorry.” He reaches over to squeeze your thigh before his brain catches up to his body. It’s a fleeting touch that warms your entire being and stuns you into a brief stillness as if he was electric. 

He shifts in his seat and clears throat. “Maybe we can go to the new location tomorrow. Get some ice cream.” 

You blink a few times, mind still fuzzy. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 

The remainder of the ride is quiet. When he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you’re swift to gather your things into your lap, still buzzing. “Thanks for the ride back,” you say, biting on your lower lip as a loud silence stretches. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He wants to walk you to your door, but he fears he’s already overstepped. “Yup. G’night.” 

Eddie curses under his breath as the door snaps shut behind you. After running a hand down his face, a tube lipstick catches his attention in the passenger seat. It takes him a few seconds to grab it and follow after you. By then, you’ve already made it inside and up the short flight of stairs. When the door of the complex closes behind him, it cuts off a cacophony chirping insects. 

Upon making it to the second floor, there’s something intimate about seeing you standing under the dim, humming lights fiddling with your keys. It isn’t until you get the door open that you regard him. 

His smile is sheepish, unlike him in every way. “You forgot this.” He reads the label as if he hadn’t committed it to memory during his short trip up the stairs, “Strawberry Crush, New Hydrating Formula.” A boyish smile buds on his face as he holds it out to you. 

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much.” Contrary to your words, there’s no inflection of surprise in your tone as you take it from him. Forgetting hadn’t been a mistake. His eyes flit inside to get a glimpse of your apartment. “Maybe I can give you a proper tour tomorrow after ice cream,” you offer. 

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets. “Sure, I’m down.”

He waits until you’re inside to walk back to his truck. You rush to peep out your living room window to watch him climb into the truck. He doesn’t pull away like you expect him to. Instead, he stays parked. Headlights shining, attracting moths and other flying things. The urge to see him one last time overpowers your better judgment in a fight that lasts all of five seconds. 

In record time, you’re back outside. He rolls down his window as you approach. 

“Forget something else?” 

“I did, actually.”

You rest your forearms on the window sill and he instinctively leans towards you, warm eyes searching your face trying to get a read. In another life, he sees your next move coming. In this one, it seems too good to be true: a kiss as soft as they come to the sounds of the night.

-

Any and all interaction appreciated. I see you <3

[semiweirdshipper]

Killers reactions to doing trials in swimsuits (Hooked on You addition).

Notes: Sfw. Non-binary reader insert.

-

Bubba Sawyer

He's absolutely embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated. And disgusted. Not only is nintey percent of his body exposed, but his face is showing as well. While he did find the hot-dog themed swimshorts oddly endearing, the joy was short lived.

During every trial, Bubba spent most of his time hiding his face underneath his straw hat while staying in secluded areas. If anyone tried to approach him, he would rev up his chainsaw to scare them away. Just go away. He didn't want to be seen like this.

While other survivors mocked and made fun of him, you were more understanding.

From a distance, you would call out to him to try and gain his trust and comfort him. Everything was going to be alright, you would say, and you would gently explain to him the severity of completing trials. There was no need to be embarrassed. In fact, you thought he looked cute and handsome.

Bubba found himself motivated and comforted by your words, and soon he began to do the trials without mercy. Anyone who mocked him would be shredded to bits.

Expect lots of half naked hugs and kisses at the end. He was so grateful to you, you have absolutely no idea.

Michael Myers

Is this a joke? Seriously? Is this a joke? Did the Entity really think this was funny?

Michael, not only frustrated by the lack of shoes and warm clothing, was utterly infuriated. Stomping around in orange and black swim-trunks with a literal, broken shell to stab people with, it was safe to say that Michael's attitude became even more brutal.

Another aspect that angered him was how almost every survivor began to tease and flirt with him as if he were some piece of candy. Some of them even tried to touch him, but their greedy paws would be quickly lacerated.

This lack of respect made him so angry that he began to commit overkill in every single trial. However... There was one survivor who didn't treat him any differently when he had to wear his swimsuit.

You.

As if nothing had changed, you treated him with respect. You didn't tease him, stare at him, touch him or try to flirt. Instead you did the trial like you were supposed to and minded his severe fits of rage. Michael even suspected that you might have been helping him to kill other survivors...

In an act of appreciation, Michael let you live most trials, and he hardly ever harmed you. After this entire event, he might even cling to you a little bit more.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Was it a swimsuit? Or some kind of bizarre bedroom cosplay?

Pinhead's "swimsuit" was an array of harnesses that covered his chest, thighs and hips. Small chains hung from his nipples, and only a leather, black speedo with matching chains covered his crotch. His thoughts?

It was actually kind of nice.

No opened wounds, no cuts, and no bones or flesh hanging out? Pinhead could do with that. Sure he still had his pins and piercings, but he had adapted to those. And while it did get cold some times, nothing really changed. He was used to pain and rough environments.

But it was kind of annoying to witness the mixed reactions from the survivors. Some acted out in disgust and others in desire or mockery. Pinhead didn't let it get to him much and simply did the trials as he was supposed to.

Though he did notice that your desire towards him had heightened, and you became more eager to hide and run away from him during trials. It was amusing. He had always tried to get you to accept his offers for pleasure, but you were too shy and scared. But now?

Call it immature, but Pinhead was loving hunting you down and giving you no choice but to look at him. The feel of your desire and innocence was so endearing to him, he couldn't help but to playfully torture you.

Perhaps soon you would break under the pressure and accept his offers?

Evan MacMillan

Screw the Entity. Screw the survivors. And screw this stupid, dumb, ridiculous swimsuit!

If anyone thought they had seen Evan angry before, then they'd better think again. Because this time? This time he was absolutely furious. Why?

Try accidentally stepping in a trap with no boots on. Try doing a trial in Ormond. Try getting outrun constantly. And try getting grabbed and gawked at all the time.

It was safe to say that Evan's behavior during trials became increasingly dangerous when he wore his striped swimsuit. Many survivors teased about the size of his bulge and made a habit to try and grab him for fun. The outcome? Certain, painful death.

Evan was tired of this stupid situation.

The only break he got was when he had trials with you. Finally, someone who didn't play the "ball grabbing game" and actually did the trial accordingly. He respected you for that. And the fact that you didn't treat him any differently than normal was also appreciated.

If ever Evan came across you in a trap, he pretended to overlook you and simply walked by. You seemed to notice this as well, and soon you began to actively help him trap your perverted team members.

Hmp. You were pretty awesome, you know? He could hang with you.

Albert Wesker

The Entity really needed to work on it's fashion skills. Honestly. Did it really think this was his style? First off, the shorts were too colorful and far, far too short and tight. Wedgie much? Also, what cheap sunglasses. And why the silky black button-up and neck bandana? And were those... Flip-flops?

Most trials, Albert felt quite embarrassed and rather ridiculous, but he did good not to show it. While few survivors did make fun of him, he simply snapped back and told them not to be so jealous. And the other survivors?

The other survivors acted like he was made out of gold and jewels.

Eventually Albert grew to enjoy the attention. Of course he'd rile up this many survivors. How couldn't he? He was handsome and toned and oh so sexy. It was only natural that everyone either be jealous or attracted to him.

Except... You.

You didn't pay any attention to him. You made no faces, no comments and no reactions. Even when he tried teasing you, you wouldn't really respond with anything other than annoyance. And that bothered him.

Soon you became his top priority in every trial. While it was irritating that you didn't respond to his obvious charm, he did find it fascinating. It meant that your mind worked differently and you didn't let yourself get distracted. You were actually becoming super attractive to him.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you.

Pyramid Head

Let's put it bluntly. His swimsuit... Was seaweed. Yes, seaweed, with a dash of barnacles and slug shells here and there. He looked like a monster that crawled out of the ocean. And did this astonishing array of seaweed stay in place very long? No. No it did not.

The Executioner didn't care about clothing though. He was used to being barefoot and half naked. Natural elements didn't bother him that much. This fishy "swimsuit" was nothing more than an obstacle and a gift.

See, of course the survivors were going crazy because of his exposed body, but that only made it easier to kill them when they tried to get too close. It was so convenient that the Executioner didn't even have to fight much anymore, the survivors just came right to him to be killed.

The Executioner knew that it was perversion and desire that brought the survivors to him, but he wasn't interested in any of them. The only thing he did in response to their attraction was kill them.

But you? You were different.

You did have desire for him, but also respect and modesty. You put the trial and your objectives first, and you stayed composed when coming into contact with him. It was such an astonishing strength. The Executioner couldn't help but to envy you.

Maybe some time in the future he could approach you with his real face and show you gratitude for how well you behaved during this outlandish experience?

-

And that's how they became... Hooked on You!

[kotoku]

Hi, can I request an Aventurine with an Inmortal! s/o who's also non-binary plz 👀

You're free to reject it if u want, just giving u an idea... 😅

ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - aventurine x immortal! reader

content - reader is non-binary/ gender-neutral terms/ established relationship/ aventurine is in for a shock/ reincarnation themes

warnings - teeny angst towards the end

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ You probably wouldn’t have told him about your immortality, figuring that you could tell him when the time is right

↻ Turns out, that time is when you’ve been brutally wounded by an enemy, Aventurine nearly having a heart attack when you show up with multiple wounds and cuts that seemed life-threatening

“How are you..alive??”

“..Surprise..?”

↻ When you break the news to Aventurine, he doesn’t react at first, seemingly taking in everything you had explain 

↻ A part of him feels devastated, is he just a fleeting chapter in your book? A memory that would slowly be forgotten over time? But he also feels relieved, you couldn’t die so he didn’t have to worry about your death anytime soon

↻ Aventurine slowly comes to terms with your immortality, always inquiring about your past and what it’s like

↺ He’s probably curious about the healing process and the damage you take, asking about any experiences you had during battles where it took you a while to heal (the morbid curiosity this guy has…)

↻ If you’re in a battle with Aventurine, you’d probably throw yourself in front of him to defend him from any attacks if his shields aren’t up

↺ He hates your recklessness but also appreciates it

↻ You, as expected, stay the same as Aventurine continues to age, watching him slowly gain wrinkles and his hair fade away (if he doesn’t die to something else, of course)

↺ You’d be pretty devastated about him, mourning his death for a long, long time before suddenly, you see a familiar head of blond and magenta-cyan eyes

“..How– How can this be..?”

↻ If Aventurine were to be reincarnated, you’d be thrilled but also a bit sad, all the memories you shared together, reduced to nothing, as you stand before him as a stranger

“Do I..know you?”

↻ You could feel yourself breaking down all over again, mourning a person who was dead but alive before your eyes 

↺ You’d probably avoid interfering with his reincarnation, wanting fate to run its course

↺ And run its course it did

↻ The reincarnation of your past lover falls for you yet again, and it is only now that every person you have ever loved in the past, resembled Aventurine in some way (whether it was his blond hair, unique eyes, or personality, they all had something in common)

↻ In every life time of his, you were there

↻ You were eternally tied to his soul; soulmates

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[zhongrin]

01101100011011110110000101100100011010010110111001100111001011000010000001100110011101010110001101101011011010010110111001100111

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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, capitano, childe

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, afab!reader, chubby!reader, self aware android au, overstimulation (zhongli al haitham), period sex (al haitham), oral (giving / al haitham), inhuman features (capitano), did (childe | tartaglia), sadistic tendencies (tartaglia)

◇ a/n ◇ i have no words ya girl filthy and i blame it to the zhongli sisterwives coalition for enabling me (if yall see this, ily <3). also - obligatory tag to crys @crystalflygeo bc i feel like she'll set off a feral al haitham at me if i don't tag her /aff /silly. lastly no i definitely don't play favorites wdym

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

handsome, elegant, gentle, and overall the perfect partner. from the random geology facts to his massages and specially blended teas, zhongli is the ideal android companion you could ever splurge on. he’s an expensive model and will break your bank, plus, his various dlcs and extensions - ranging from his alter personality “morax” which is brasher and rougher on the edges to the several… ‘attachments’ you could purchase to enhance his ‘performance’ - could probably get you into debt if you’re not careful.

but really, it barely matters when he manages to fuck you just fine with his standard out-of-the-box attachment. he’s as rough as you want him to be, yet at the same time he kisses you like you’re the most precious gem he’s ever unearthed and he’s not pounding you against your bedroom door. your knees buckle and your voice cracks around the edges as you scream his name for the hundredth time that night, the way he’s bullying into your sweetest spot making you gush yet again.

he’s perpetually hard as he helps you come down from your high, and the circle in his amber eyes spins as he loads the data from your smartwatch in a matter of milliseconds.

“2092 calories... hmm. i suppose you’ve met your goal for today….”

zhongli bends down to press a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. and for a moment you sink into post-climax bliss, feeling warm and satiated and a lot less stressed than when you first started-

he smirks when your whole body jolts as his finger starts to slowly rub your swollen bud, hips gently moving to set a slow pace to not overstimulate you too much. although he had to say he was tempted to do so, with the indecent sound you’re making from both your upper and lower set of lips.

”… but what say you we go for more? after all… you’re most sensitive when you’re on the peak of your fertile days - such as today, yes?”

your android is very very strange, you decide. but then again his personality is described as “a tad insufferable” on the label so you guessed teyvat⟡robotics is at least being honest. for one, al haitham is very punctual with his ‘working hours’ - in fact, it was the very first thing he asked when you turned him on. anything after his ‘office hours’, and he gives you the insufferable roommate treatment. he also prefers to read physical books instead of using his supercomputer brain to look up information. he’s also very seemingly apathetic about a lot of things, and sometimes it drives you crazy… just like now.

“you said you wanted the cramps to hurt less. now stay still.”

he seems to not give any fuck about all the period blood smeared over his synthetic skin as he brings you over the edge for the third time tonight.

granted he could just turn off his smell and taste sensor, but you were pretty sure the vivid lust in his verdant green optics with a diamond of terracotta of his activity bar must be a glitch in his code. with muscled arms hugging your plump thighs, he buried himself further into your cunt, humming when he felt you clench around his tongue amidst his ministrations. they vibrate and fucks your sweetest spot with such precision and speed - and with each climax, it gets harder and harder to think.

go ahead, tug on his hair all you want - he’s just doing what you’ve instructed him to do. and what is he if not exemplary at his job? hell - perhaps if it’s for this, he wouldn’t mind working overtime.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to feel any pain, let alone think.”

previously a unit made for war, the capitano model is intimidating - and that’s an understatement. he’s tall, bulky, rigged with many alien-like features, and would probably get stuck on your house’s doorways, but what most people don’t know since they don’t bother reading his manual is that he’s utterly soft and gentle to his owner. in this case, namely, you.

and you’re glad that he is because the sinful way his thick fingers are stirring your sloppy pussy and fucking your mouth was already making you see stars. long thick tongue slithered out from his ‘mouth’ behind the crevasse of his helmet, wrapping around your breast and flicking your hardened nipple, a guttural purr that sounded both mechanical and otherworldly seemingly making the air vibrate.

he hums when you beg for his girthy manhood, and his fingers scissor your walls as he gauges your reactions. capitano grunts and chuckles, gentle yet with a dark undertone behind it as he taps onto your clit and fucks you deeper with his fingers.

“not yet. you’re not ready, my little human. maybe after you give me two more orgasms.”

the general consensus is that ajax is the cutest companion one could ever get from the market, and you used to agree with that sentiment. he’s sweet and cheerful, cooks you the best homemade meals, and knows when to hold you when you feel too stressed.

if only your curious soul didn’t hack into his program that one night out of curiosity. if only you hadn’t found the commented-out section amongst the lines of codes in his program. if only-

tartaglia is meaner - a lot meaner, in fact. ajax holds your hand like you’re a bubble rising on top of the water's surface which can pop any moment, but tartaglia pins them onto your mattress in a tight grip to prevent you from escaping. ajax's focus is to please you and make you feel like royalty who's in for a good time - tartaglia’s focus is on how loud you can scream in pleasure for him, how many times you can come undone by his hands compared to ajax, and he thrives by hearing his name falling from your lips as your eyes cross and your cunt spasms around his length.

too sensitive? too much? you can’t?

“but babe…. doesn’t it feel even better when there’s a little bit of pain mixed with the pleasure?”

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @pvbbyb0y

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁  ! ⺌ . ⸺  NPE! 

PART ONE! | Volume I

Synopsis; "So, you’re an alien, huh?" Yeah, sure, maybe you’re a little... different. But honestly, who isn’t? The earthlings think you’re weird? Nope. It’s just that they’re a bunch of clueless humans, totally missing the point. You, on the other hand, have a higher calling. A mission to discover the meaning of life—you know, the whole ‘why am I here, and what am I supposed to be doing’ thing. Simple, right?

Except, uh... there’s a small hiccup. You don’t even know what species you are, because someone forgot to leave the alien instruction manual. Oops. So, while you’re out there doing some random side gig (you know, the one that might help you find out more about your roots and, oh yeah, pay the rent), you accidentally get tangled up in the lives of two earthlings.

Of course, you swear to protect them because, well, you kind of owe them. Maybe. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Either way, your purpose might get a little... distracted. But hey, priorities, right?

Pairing ── Dan Da Dan x Alien! Fem/Neutral? Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Manga Spoilers, Violence/Death, Blood, Invasion of Privacy, Invasion of Mind, Abduction, Kidnapping, Angst, Murder, Disturbing Content, Corruption, Isolation,Paranoia, Manipulation, Unintended Time Travel Mishaps, Alien Romance Tropes, Sudden Existential Crises, Unexplained Tentacle Appearances, Turbo Granny's Sass, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gravity-Defying Physics, Psychic Overload, Ambiguous Yōkai Allegiances, Excessive Hair-Related Powers, Sudden Dance Battles in Crisis, Outdated Alien Fashion Choices, Malfunctioning Spacecraft Humor, Intense Staring Contests, Time-Dilated Cliffhangers, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Polyamory, LGBTQ+ Content, ¿Gender-fluid or Non-binary Character? (Not with respect to pronouns, but to their genitals xd), Unconventional Relationship Dynamics, Consent Issues in Alien Interactions, Mind-altering Love Spells, Extreme Jealousy, Existential Dilemmas on Love and Identity, Mind-Controlling Aliens.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Oh my god, how did this happen 😱 sorry to everyone (@flwes & @redberrysstuff) who saw the incomplete story, I feel SO embarrassed. Ugh, I swear, autocorrect and my clumsiness are going to kill me one of these days. :"(( But seriously, I promise the full version is coming, just give me a second to fix it.

"Idiot! Moron! Squid! Tuna!" Momo Ayase shouted from the ground, her face flushed with rage as she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away with that annoying mix of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "Never call me again!"

"Momo? Are you okay? Or should I sign up for the next round of sea insults?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Momo turned around, still frowning, but the sight disarmed her a bit. There was Y/n Seigai, with that carefree energy that always seemed straight out of a movie. She wore a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that highlighted her figure, complemented by long socks and platform shoes with a puma print that screamed confidence. Her makeup was simple yet striking, enough to make anyone turn to look at her. And, as always, she had something in her hand: this time, a frozen yogurt popsicle that she licked absently as if nothing in the world could disturb her calm.

"Late again, huh?" Momo huffed, crossing her arms and standing up, her gaze as severe as a frustrated mother.

"What? Was that a 'thank you for coming to the rescue, Y/n'? Because if so, your tone needs a little work," Y/n replied with a cheeky smile, making an exaggerated gesture to offer her a lick of her popsicle. "Want some? Frozen yogurt cures broken hearts. It's science."

"I don't want your stupid popsicle, idiot! And stop changing the subject! You're late to school again! Do you know how many times I've been asked why you can't arrive on time? I feel like your babysitter!"

Y/n theatrically sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if Momo had wounded her pride. "Oh, Momo. Always so responsible, so punctual... except when you decide to sleep in on Mondays. Remember last Monday? Because I do; you were running out with a toast in your mouth."

Momo opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, blushing a little. "That was different! And don’t change the subject!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, mom," Y/n said with a mischievous smile, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. "But in my defense, it's not my fault that the coffee at that corner is so good it makes me lose track of time."

"You have a watch on your wrist, Y/n! And a phone with alarms! ALARMS!"

"Well, my alarms and I have a complicated relationship..." Y/n murmured as she took another lick of the popsicle.

Momo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, although her lips curled slightly into a smile. That was the dynamic with Y/n: serious and responsible when necessary but with enough chaotic moments to drive her crazy. And even though sometimes she wanted to give her a good lecture, she couldn't deny that Y/n always knew how to lift her spirits, even on days like today.

"Come on, Momo. Let's get to class. I promise we'll make it before the bell rings... probably," Y/n said, offering her the popsicle as a peace gesture.

"Probably isn’t good enough! And I don’t want your silly popsicle," Momo shot back, but she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as they started walking together.

As they crossed the school gates, Momo and Y/n couldn’t help but draw attention. They were, without a doubt, a striking pair: Momo, with her natural charisma and perfectly polished gyaru style, walked with purpose while continuing to rant about her now ex-boyfriend; Y/n, on the other hand, exuded a magnetic nonchalance, her skirt swaying with each step and a yogurt popsicle still in her hand, as if school were just another runway in her day.

"And then he has the nerve to say I’m playing hard to get! Can you believe it?" Momo gestured dramatically, as if still arguing with her ex.

"Mm-hmm," Y/n murmured, not stopping her slow lick of the popsicle. "Sounds like someone needs a 'How Not to Be an Idiot' manual. Should I mail him one?"

"Not even that! He’d probably lose it, like he loses all common sense," Momo shot back, rolling her eyes.

As they made their way down the hallway, students stepped aside to let them pass—some admiring their style, others whispering comments among themselves. Momo was so engrossed in her complaints she barely noticed the stares. Y/n, however, threw the occasional wink or offered a carefree smile, as if she were used to being the center of attention.

"Can you stop flirting with the entire hallway? I’m having a crisis here!" Momo snapped, giving her a light nudge.

"Flirting? I’m just being friendly. But if you want all my attention, Momo, you only have to ask," Y/n replied with a mischievous grin.

"God, you’re unbearable!"

Finally, they reached their classroom, where their other two friends, Miko and Muko, were waiting.

Miko was seated by the window, her small bow perfectly in place and her uniform impeccable, though always with her personal touch. Her beige sweater and loosely tied ribbon gave her a relaxed vibe, but her bright smile showed she was ready for a day full of energy.

Muko, in contrast, was impossible to ignore. Her tan skin stood out against her blonde hair styled into pigtails, and the manba makeup she wore proudly added a bold edge to her look. Her uniform followed the same pattern as the other girls', but on her, everything seemed a bit more daring—from the slightly oversized sweater to the way her loose socks fell perfectly over her sandals.

"Wow! Took you long enough," Miko said with a smile as she saw them walk in. "I thought you’d actually be on time today."

"Tell that to Miss 'Coffee is More Important Than Punctuality,'" Momo replied, giving Y/n an accusatory look.

"Me? I arrived just in time to make this spectacular entrance," Y/n said, spinning dramatically before flopping into her seat.

"Jealous, Miko?" Muko chimed in as she adjusted one of her pigtails. "They walk in, and the whole hallway stares. People only look at us when Miko shouts something ridiculous."

"Hey! That was one time," Miko retorted, crossing her arms with feigned indignation.

Momo let out a sigh, but a smile began to form on her lips. Being with them was always like this: chaotic, fun, and somehow reassuring.

"Alright, girls, now that we’re all here, I need advice. How do you get over an idiot who just wants you to pay for everything and only cares about sleeping with you?"

"Easy," Y/n said, raising her popsicle as if it were a trophy. "You get over him by being yourself: brighter, more fabulous, and completely out of his league. Like always, Momo."

"Amen," added Muko, lifting her phone for a quick selfie with Miko, who automatically struck a pose.

Momo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Yes, her group was a mess in its own way, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"Okay, seriously, what happened? Why are you so upset? We know it’s not because of Y/n, because when you’re mad at her, you yell louder than a megaphone," Miko said, raising an eyebrow with that teasing attitude she always had when she wanted to get under Momo’s skin.

Momo let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the desk. "Nothing... that idiot dumped me, and then I started insulting him... using fish names."

Y/n, who was lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk as if she were at home, couldn’t hold back a laugh. "Fish names. Like ‘Tuna’ and ‘Squid’. Because I’m sure that hurt his feelings a lot. Wow, Momo, terrifying. Do you really think that’s going to change his mind?"

"Ha, I’m dying," Muko said, testing a bit of her makeup while laughing. "Fish names aren’t insults, Momo. What were you expecting, ‘Shark’ or ‘Piranha’? Now those might be scary!"

Momo frowned, looking at her friends as if they were aliens. "You’re supposed to comfort me! He was my first boyfriend! My first, girls!" Momo waved her hands dramatically, as if she had lost something truly valuable.

Muko looked at her with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "We told you to forget about him, Momo. It was obvious he wasn’t worth it."

Y/n nodded with mock seriousness, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, can you remind me what was supposed to be so great about him? Was it the guy who always wore shirts two sizes too small? Or was it his talent for making you feel bad every time you talked about your dreams?"

"It’s just... he looked like Ken Takakura," Momo replied, as if it were an irrefutable justification, throwing her hands up as if there were nothing more to say.

The three friends sighed in unison, a sound so synchronized it could have been rehearsed.

"There she goes again..." Muko muttered, shaking her head and placing a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose.

"Ugh, here we go," Miko said, glancing at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. "The story of the guy who ‘looked like’ Ken Takakura. Momo, are you sure you don’t have a poster of him at home?"

"She doesn’t just have a poster, let me tell you," Y/n said, remembering the time she stayed over at Momo’s house while her grandmother was away for a few days.

Y/n, who had just finished her popsicle and was now grinning mockingly at the others, tossed the stick out the window with perfect precision. "Here we go with your nonsense again, Momo. First it was ‘Ken Takakura,’ then it’ll be ‘Tom Cruise,’ and next you’ll tell me you fell for some guy who looks like an anime character. Stop idealizing guys, seriously."

Momo shot her a glare. "It’s not the same, Y/n! Ken Takakura is an icon, a real man!"

"Yeah, a movie man probably under contract with boredom, because guys like him don’t exist in real life," Y/n said, striking a dramatic pose as she crossed her arms.

Momo shrugged. "I don’t know what it is about him… but there’s something, I swear."

"What he has is that he’s in movies, not real life," Miko replied with a somewhat philosophical tone, as if she’d just imparted a profound truth about reality.

"So what, huh!? I like tough guys, like Ken Takakura!" Momo shouted, raising her hand as if she’d just made a worldwide announcement about her love for cinematic men.

Miko and Muko exchanged glances and, with almost perfect synchronization, replied, "Momo, we’ve got a surprise for you… those men are extinct."

Momo immediately dropped her head, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile vanished in an instant. "What? Extinct? That can’t be true!" she muttered, as if she’d just taken a direct hit to the heart.

"Sorry, Momo," Miko said with a mischievous smile. "Men like that don’t exist anymore. All we’ve got now are guys in sweatpants with cat wallpapers on their phones."

Momo let out a deep sigh, an exaggerated expression of sorrow crossing her face. "So what?! What am I supposed to do with my life? Settle for guys who don’t even know what a good hairstyle is?!"

With the theatrics worthy of a telenovela star, Momo stood from her seat, leaving the others watching as she exited the classroom as if she’d just lost the most important battle of her life.

"Did what we said hurt her feelings?" Miko asked, a faint smile on her face, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Y/n replied, standing up without looking back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "It hurt because it’s true."

Momo, on the verge of stepping into the hallway, didn’t notice Y/n following her. As Y/n caught up, she saw Momo walking with slumped shoulders, as if she were on a farewell mission for her love life.

Y/n walked up to her side and, with a playful smile, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Come on, Momo, don’t be like that. There are still guys out there who aren’t complete disasters."

Momo gave her a sad look. "I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe tough guys are just a fantasy. Like Ken Takakura. A legend of the past!"

"Well, if you ask me, the real tough guy is standing right here!" Y/n said, pointing a thumb at herself with a cheeky grin. "Forgot about us? We’re the tough ones now."

Momo glanced at her sideways, a flicker of humor returning to her eyes. "The problem is I don’t have time for girls who make bad jokes."

Y/n followed her, chuckling softly. "I’m the best company you could ask for, and I’ll prove it!"

The two walked down the hallway, leaving the classroom behind, Momo still a little down but starting to relax, with Y/n beside her as always—joking, stylish, and promising that there was always something better than a movie fantasy.

"Let’s go, Momo," Y/n said with a sly smile. "Tough guys may not exist anymore, but we’re unstoppable!"

Momo couldn’t help but smile, even if just a little. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

As Momo and Y/n passed by the nearest classroom, they couldn’t help but notice a group of boys throwing paper balls at a smaller, scrawnier boy with a hairstyle clearly modeled after Nobita from Doraemon.

Momo frowned immediately, spotting the bullying behavior. Y/n tensed beside her. Both of them hated bullies, and they weren’t about to stand by and do nothing.

One of the boys, grinning stupidly, picked up a paper ball and said loudly, "Stick a magnet in it! That’s gotta hurt!"

As he prepared to throw it, now with a magnet inside, a shadow loomed over him. Turning around, he found Momo sitting in front of him, her expression unimpressed. Behind him, Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her gaze so intense it could’ve melted anything in its path.

"Hey," Momo asked, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "What are you reading?"

"Uh… this…" the boy stammered, glancing nervously between the bullies and the girls.

The boys throwing the paper balls didn’t seem to realize what was happening. They turned back to their antics, ignoring the two girls who weren’t about to stay quiet.

Momo quickly stood up, shooting the bullies one last look. "What a bunch of idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s like this world is full of losers."

Y/n sighed, observing the chaos with a smile that hid something deeper. She was about to leave with Momo until her eyes caught the title of the magazine the boy was reading.

"The Occult," she read aloud, raising an intrigued eyebrow and smiling faintly. "Interesting…" she murmured before stepping toward Momo, leaving the minor chaos of the classroom behind.

"Come on, Momo," Y/n teased as she walked alongside her. "You look like you just had to pay taxes or something. Relax."

"You’d feel the same way if you were surrounded by idiots!" Momo snapped, crossing her arms indignantly.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice thundered behind them:

"MOMO AYASE! Y/N SEIGAI!"

"Huh? Now what?" Momo said, turning around with a frown.

It was the nerd from earlier. He was running toward them with all his might, gasping for breath as if he’d just escaped a marathon. When he reached them, he stopped so abruptly he almost fell over.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he shouted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Y/n asked, visibly confused, glancing at Momo with a raised eyebrow.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he repeated, louder this time, with an oddly intense conviction. "That’s the only reason someone like you would talk to someone like me!"

Momo blinked slowly and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "You’ve already said that. Can you switch up your dialogue? You sound like a broken record."

Y/n put a hand to her face, muttering, "Have you lost your mind? Where did you even get that crazy idea?"

The boy looked at them with desperate eyes, as if he was about to reveal some cosmic secret. "I’m talking about this!" he exclaimed, pulling something out as if presenting irrefutable proof.

Both girls tilted their heads simultaneously, trying to figure out what he was holding.

"Is that... a magazine?" Momo asked, squinting.

"Yes! A limited edition of The Occult! I know you’re into this because I saw how you looked at it earlier! President Obama has already been to Mars! This is the full story of the Pegasus Project! You’re into the paranormal!"

Momo closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, clearly trying to summon some patience. "Look, genius, we’re not planning to be your best friends or start a paranormal book club with you. We don’t believe in UFOs or aliens."

"They’re not UFOs, they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!" the boy yelled enthusiastically, holding up the magazine like it was some sacred manifesto.

He began talking again, with a passion that seemed endless. Y/n listened with a half-smile, entertained by the chaos he brought with him. But soon, she felt Momo’s hand squeeze hers—a clear sign: Momo was about to lose her temper.

And then, she exploded.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?! MY HEART’S BEEN BROKEN, AND I’M NOT IN THE MOOD! AND YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR NERD STORIES THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT, OKAY?! THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS!"

The boy froze, his mouth open and his eyes wide like saucers. Even Y/n, who was used to Momo’s outbursts, raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Low blow," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Still fuming like a volcano, Momo pointed at the boy. "Don’t even think about talking to us again! Let’s go, Y/n!"

But Y/n didn’t move. She looked at the boy with some pity, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... she didn’t mean it, okay? She’s upset because she had a bad day. Don’t take it to heart," she said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Momo stopped and turned around, clearly picking up on Y/n’s accusatory tone even though she hadn’t said anything else. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine! I’m sorry, dude! I went too far. Happy now?"

She picked up the magazine that had fallen to the floor and handed it back to the boy, though her lips were still pursed. "But don’t get excited. I don’t believe in aliens. I’m more into ghosts and spirits, got it?"

Out of nowhere, the boy started laughing—not a polite chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh that echoed down the hallway.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe in spirits," he said, still laughing as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Momo froze, her frown deeper than ever. "Are you making fun of me?!" she shouted, stepping toward him with clenched fists.

Before anyone could react, the two launched into a heated argument. Momo insisted that spirits were real, while the boy passionately defended his UAPs. Y/n, stuck between them like a referee in a wrestling match, glanced toward the hallway. There stood Miko and Muko, watching the scene with amused smiles as they whispered to each other.

"These two are hopeless," Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling her patience wear thin.

Finally, she snapped.

"ENOUGH! YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!" she yelled, pushing them apart with a hand on each shoulder. Her voice was so loud that even Miko and Muko stopped laughing to peek in with curiosity.

"Here’s the deal," Y/n said, crossing her arms authoritatively. "If Momo proves that spirits exist, you’ll become her personal errand boy. But if you prove that UFOs—sorry, UAPs—are real, then she’ll be your errand girl."

Both of them stared at her in disbelief.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" they shouted in unison, their faces a mix of shock and panic.

Y/n smirked, her tone daring as if she’d just announced the rules of a reality show. "It’s a bet. Take it or leave it."

Momo opened her mouth to protest but then glanced at the boy with a competitive glint in her eyes. "Errand boy, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad."

The boy blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he raised his chin, determined. "Fine! But get ready to carry my stuff when I win."

Momo narrowed her eyes. "Me? Carry your stuff? Dream on, loser!"

From the hallway, Miko and Muko started laughing again.

"This is gonna be good," Miko said.

"I’m definitely not missing this," Muko added.

Y/n sighed, looking at the two challengers with exhaustion. "Great, now you’re both committed. But if you waste my time, I swear both of you will end up being my errand boys!"

They both nodded, though they still exchanged defiant glares. Y/n couldn’t help but smile. This was either going to be very interesting… or completely chaotic.

⊹ ・・───・・・・───・・ ⊹

"What is this place?! I’M GONNA DIE OF FEAR!" screamed Momo, clinging to you like a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Her grip was so tight that you seriously considered whether you’d pass out from lack of air or from the creepy atmosphere of the hospital.

"Relax, Momo," you sighed, trying to wiggle free while scanning the surroundings. Nagi University Hospital didn’t disappoint: graffiti-covered walls, broken windows, dark hallways, and that classic feeling that something was watching you from the shadows. "Though… yeah, this place is pretty unsettling."

"UNSETTLING?! THIS IS STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORROR MOVIE!" Momo shrieked, practically climbing on top of you.

On the other end of the phone, the guy sounded thrilled. "Stop whining! Nagi Hospital is one of the prime spots for UFO sightings! They say if you’re on the rooftop, you get abducted!"

"What’s abduction?" Momo whispered in your ear.

"It’s when aliens kidnap you and experiment on your body," you whispered back.

"Hey, genius, why the rooftop?" you asked, frowning as you tried to keep Momo at a reasonable distance. "What does the rooftop have to do with UFOs?"

"Because UFOs can’t land in the basement, OBVIOUSLY!" he replied triumphantly, as if he’d just solved a universal mystery.

"Are you kidding me…? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUILDS A HOSPITAL WHERE YOU GET ABDUCTED?!" shouted Momo, clearly on the verge of throwing the phone out the window.

"And who in their right mind goes willingly to an abandoned hospital for fun? Oh, wait... you two."

"THAT’S IT!" Momo yelled, red with indignation, and if you hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve smashed the phone against the nearest wall.

"Okay, okay, enough, both of you!" you interrupted, rubbing your temples. "Listen, Nobita of the UFO fandom, you focus on your tunnel and tell us if you see anything weird. We’ll try not to die or get abducted, deal?"

"Perfect! And record everything! This could change history!" he said excitedly, as if already drafting his speech for NASA.

"Sure, sure. If aliens take me, I’ll make sure to Facetime you," you muttered as Momo tugged at your arm.

"YOU GO FIRST! I’M NOT GOING ALONE!" Momo demanded, pointing at the dark hallway leading to the rusty elevator.

"Me first? I’d rather we just go home and call it a day. We’ve done enough for one evening."

Momo huffed but then crossed her arms and stared at the floor, thoughtful. "If we leave now, that idiot’s gonna laugh at us all week."

"What do you prefer? Him laughing at us, or us getting abducted? Because I know where my priorities lie, and aliens don’t make the top 10."

There was a brief silence as you both weighed your options. Finally, Momo sighed dramatically, like she’d just decided to climb a mountain. "Fine, but if anything weird happens, you handle it. I’m just gonna scream and run, deal?"

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," you replied with a tired smile as the two of you ventured into the dark hallway. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the empty walls, while the guy on the other end of the phone kept rambling about "electromagnetic phenomena and alien microwaves."

"By the way!" said the guy, as if he had just remembered something. "If you see strange lights, don’t get close. They’re a sign of imminent abduction."

"Great," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Anything else we should know before we get abducted?"

"Yeah, if you get abducted, ask them how they travel faster than light. I’m really interested in that!"

"WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOPATH THINKS ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" Momo screamed, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh. At least the strange humor was helping to calm the terror a little.

"Hey, kid, let’s be honest... you’ve never seen a UFO in your life, have you?" Momo asked, crossing her arms and looking at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

The guy adjusted his glasses, clearly offended. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT REGRESSIVE HYPNOSIS IS?"

"DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Momo snapped, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "I asked you something very simple."

He raised a finger, completely ignoring her while striking a dramatic pose. "THE QUESTION ISN’T WHETHER I’VE SEEN A UFO..."

"Uh-huh, sure," murmured Y/n, rolling their eyes.

"WHAT MATTERS ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE THEORY!" he continued, in such a serious tone that it sounded like he was giving a lecture on astrophysics.

Momo sighed, clearly losing patience. "Again with your nonsense, oh my god. Don’t you ever get tired? Or do you recharge with solar batteries?"

"THIS ISN’T NONSENSE! IT'S SCIENCE! IT’S TRUE!" he protested, with an almost comical intensity.

"Yeah, sure. And how’s it going there, huh? Anything interesting besides your ‘theories’?" Momo said, looking around with feigned indifference as she tried to change the subject.

"I’VE ARRIVED... TOO SHY... SHY... TO THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE..." the guy shouted on the phone, his voice echoing in the dark, damp tunnel. "WELL... NOW IT'S TIME TO PROVE IT!"

Momo frowned, not as convinced by his enthusiasm. "Please, do you really think this place is special? It’s all dark and super creepy!"

"YOU’RE SCARED! YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE INTERNET, HAVEN’T YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST?!" the guy yelled, his voice strangely echoing in the tunnel.

"Not at all," Momo replied with a nervous laugh, though her gaze darkened a little.

"WHAT WAS THAT RANT ABOUT EARLIER?!" she shouted, pointing at the phone. "TAKE BACK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! How can you believe in spirits if you've never even seen one?"

"What's so strange about that?" Momo shot back, crossing her arms. She lowered her voice a bit before continuing: "I told you... my grandmother is a medium. She raised me because... well, because I don’t have parents."

There was a brief silence. Even the guy on the phone seemed to be lost for words. Y/n looked at Momo, noticing an expression they rarely saw on their friend: nostalgia mixed with sadness.

"I didn’t know..." murmured the guy on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," Momo continued, trying to appear indifferent. "My parents died when I was little. So my grandmother took care of me. But of course, my grandmother wasn’t a normal person. She always talked about spirits, spells, energies. Before going to school, she’d make me do a ritual to protect me from ‘bad vibes’ or something like that. And if I didn’t do it, she’d get mad at me."

"And did you do it?" Y/n asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Momo sighed. "At first, I had no choice. But... it was horrible. The other kids would laugh at me. Even the guy I liked... one day he saw me doing one of those rituals and, well, he thought I was an idiot. From that moment on, he started avoiding me. It was the worst."

"That sounds tough," Y/n commented, with a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it was," Momo admitted, shrugging. "I got really angry with my grandmother for that. I think I even said things I shouldn’t have. I felt really alone. But... now that I think about it, it wasn’t so much the ritual that bothered me. It was seeing how they laughed at my family, how they didn’t understand what it meant to us."

"It must have been hard," Y/n said.

"It was," Momo repeated, looking down. "I didn’t regain trust in my grandmother until recently. I realized that, even though her ideas were strange, she did it because she wanted to protect me. And... well, it's all I have left of my family. So, even though it’s frustrating sometimes... I guess I understand her."

The guy on the other end of the phone cleared his throat, breaking the mood. "Well... I don’t know much about spirits, but your grandmother sounds... interesting."

Momo laughed a little. "That’s a polite way to put it. But yeah, she is."

"My grandmother..." Momo began, her gaze fixed on the darkness of the hospital, as if she were speaking more to herself than to anyone else. "Her work as a medium... I don’t know if it’s real. I’ve never seen a spirit. Never. I don’t even know if my grandmother can really perceive them. But you know something? I don’t care. Because, at the end of the day, she raised me alone. She accepted me as her family, even when I didn’t understand anything she did or said. And, in some way, I believe in her."

There was a silence in the group. Even the guy on the phone seemed to have fallen silent for a moment, as if Momo’s words had struck him.

"That’s why I believe in spirits," she continued. "Not because I’ve seen them, but because I believe in my grandmother. And that’s enough for me."

Y/n looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. It was rare to hear Momo speak so sentimentally, but somehow, the sincerity of her words hit like a punch to the chest.

"And you?" Momo asked, turning back to the phone. "Why do you believe in aliens, huh?"

"That... that’s different," the guy replied, somewhat uncomfortable. "You don’t have to see something to know it exists. There’s evidence, theories, data..."

Momo let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, sure. Evidence and theories. But tell me something, genius: have you ever seen an alien with your own eyes?"

"Well... no," he admitted, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then what makes you different from me? Why do you assume that yours is more real than mine?"

"Because it’s science," he quickly responded, defensively.

"Science?" Momo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You call science looking at forums on the internet and reading conspiracy theories from people who’ve probably never left their basement?"

"It’s not the same!" he exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

Y/n decided to intervene before the conversation turned into an argument. "Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Look, I think Momo has a point. But you do too, mysterious guy. At the end of the day, if you like something, you don’t need reasons to believe in it, right?"

They both fell silent, though their expressions showed they still had a lot to say.

"By the way," Momo added, slightly changing the subject, "you talk about aliens like you know everything about them, but... you have the voice of someone who doesn’t leave the house much, am I wrong?"

"What are you implying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"That you probably haven’t talked to another person in months, other than us on the phone," she replied with a teasing smile.

"That’s not true!"

"Uh-huh, sure."

Y/n chuckled softly while observing their dynamic. Even though they argued constantly, there was something strangely entertaining about their interactions.

"Anyway," Momo said, returning to the previous topic, "I don’t know if aliens exist, but one thing I’m sure of: we don’t need evidence to believe in what matters to us. That includes my grandmother... and I guess your aliens too."

"I guess you’re right," the guy admitted, in a somewhat resigned tone.

"Of course I am," she responded confidently.

"Well," Y/n interrupted, looking around, "before we continue to philosophize, can we just focus on not dying here? Because this place still gives me the creeps."

"I'll second that motion," Momo added, adjusting her hair. "Come on, Y/n. And you, kiddo, keep looking for your evidence. We'll do our thing."

"Don't forget to record something if you see a spirit!" he replied.

"Sure, and if we see an alien, we'll introduce you to it in person," Momo replied sarcastically as she walked with Y/n into the darkness of the hospital.

The boy moved slowly through the tunnel, his flashlight wobbling with each step. The place was dark, damp, and had a strange smell, as if time had stopped there. The echoes of his footsteps made him think he wasn't alone, although he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Suddenly, something stopped him.  A few feet in front of him, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was an old woman, hunched over, dressed in worn clothes and a hat that looked like it was from another era. Her face was covered in deep wrinkles, but what stood out the most was her twisted, almost grotesque smile.

“What the…?” he muttered, trying to back away.

The old woman looked up, and her eyes shone with an unnatural intensity.

The old woman took a step forward. “I’ll let you suck my… tits,” she said with a twisted grimace, “if you let me suck your dick.”

“WHAT?!” the boy shouted, jumping back. His flashlight shook in his hand, and, in his panic, his phone almost slipped from his grasp.

“Momo! Y/n! It’s a ghost!” he shouted into the phone, although he didn’t know if they were still on the line.

From the other side of the tunnel, Momo looked up, irritated.  “What is this idiot saying now?”

The boy ran as fast as he could, not daring to look back. Each step echoed like a drum in the tunnel, and his panting was deafening.

“This can’t be happening!” he shouted, stumbling slightly but staying on his feet. “It’s just an old exit! YES, THAT’S WHAT IT HAS TO BE!”

He reached his bike, parked at the entrance to the tunnel, and began to wobble as he tried to mount it. His hands shook so badly that he could barely grip the handlebars. “Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered frantically as he tried to pedal.

At that moment, the cell phone in his pocket rang again. It was Momo. With clumsy hands, he pulled out the phone and answered, still panting.

“AYASE! THAT THING IS FOLLOWING ME!”

“Don’t stop, you idiot!” Momo shouted from the other end of the line. “If it catches up with you, you’re done for!”  “It’s the curse of the Old Turbo! If you lose the race against her, she curses you!”

“WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone would be idiotic enough to provoke her!”

The boy looked back as he pedaled, and his blood ran cold. The old woman wasn’t running… she was floating towards him, with terrifying speed.

“NOOOO!” he shouted, pedaling even harder.

“Don’t look back!” Momo exclaimed, almost hysterical. “Just keep pedaling!”

Suddenly, the tunnel was filled with a strange echo.

Momo, who was still shouting into the phone, noticed something strange. “Hey, wait a minute! Y/n?”

The silence on the other side made her stop. She turned her head and realized that Y/n was no longer there.

“Y/n!? Where are you?!”  he screamed, looking around in panic.

The boy’s cell phone began to crackle with static, and the call was abruptly cut off. He was now alone, the echo of the Turbo Old Lady’s laughter filling the tunnel as he pedaled madly towards the exit.

Momo, still holding his own cell phone, felt a chill run down his spine. “This isn’t right… Y/n? Answer!”

Momo made his way down the hallway, the light from his flashlight shaking with each step he took. The air seemed colder with each meter, and darkness enveloped everything around him. “Y/n? Are you there? Please answer…” he muttered, gripping his cell phone tightly.

Suddenly, a strange sound echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Momo stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing quickening. “Boy? Is that you? Answer!”

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t Y/n.  They were three tall figures, oddly proportioned. They wore human clothing: buttoned-up shirts with collars, tucked neatly into their pants. The pockets of their shirts were filled with small items, such as pens and a notebook sticking out of one of them. They wore perfectly fitted belts and shiny shoes, as if they had just left an office meeting.

Their heads, however, were anything but human.

They looked like grotesque humanoid masks: expressionless faces with motionless eyes and thin mouths that curved unnaturally. Their movements were stiff, but their eyes followed her with chilling precision.

Momo took a step back, her body trembling. “Who… what are you guys?” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

One of them took a step forward, his head tilting slightly, as if he were studying her. Momo didn’t wait any longer.  She turned on her heel and began running down the tunnel, quickly dialing Y/n’s number on her cell phone.

“Y/n! Please answer! There are some weird guys here and—!”

She couldn’t finish. One of the men appeared out of nowhere, blocking her way. Momo screamed and backed away, but she collided with something hard. She quickly turned around and found another one of them, who had appeared behind her without making the slightest noise.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing the flashlight at one of them in a desperate attempt to escape. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off his chest, and he showed no reaction.

Before she could do anything else, she felt an icy pressure on her arm. One of the men had grabbed her, his grip firm but inexplicably cold. “No, no, no! Let me go!”

The cell phone fell from her hands and hit the ground, illuminating for a moment the expressionless face of one of the men.  “Y/n! Help!” was the last thing she managed to scream before she was dragged into the darkness of the tunnel.

The phone was left there, illuminating an empty, cold hallway. In the distance, the echo of the men’s footsteps carrying her away could be heard, but soon, even that sound disappeared.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Momo opened her eyes in shock and confusion. The room was cold, with metallic walls illuminated by bluish lights, and in front of her were three disturbing-looking figures. With elongated heads, greyish skin and large, dark eyes, they looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. One of them stepped forward and spoke in a monotonous, metallic voice:

"Greetings, human. We are Serpoians. We are called that because we come from the planet Serpo."

"Aliens?" Momo frowned in disbelief. Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. However, the evidence was undeniable: she was facing something that surpassed any logical explanation.

"Do not be afraid," another of the Serpoians continued with inhuman calm. "We are a peaceful species."

Momo, far from calming down, gritted her teeth. Her eyes frantically scanned the room as she tugged at the restraints holding her wrists.  “Peaceful? Nice guys don’t kidnap girls! Where are my clothes?”

One of the aliens pointed to a nearby table where his clothes lay, in tatters. “Your belongings were handled with care. The damage was… accidental.”

“Accidental?! This isn’t cheap! You’re going to pay for this! And I demand that you return me to my home right now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room.

Despite his protests, the Serpoians seemed immune to his fury. “Our species is entirely male,” one explained in a mechanical tone, as if he were reciting a lesson. “For millennia, we have reproduced through cloning, but this has led to the loss of our emotions and genetic diversity. We seek to regain our biological capabilities… using your genetic code.”

“My what?” Momo looked at them with a mix of confusion and disgust. “You’re completely insane! I will not be a part of your Frankenstein experiments!”

Before she could say anything else, the sound of a sliding door interrupted the tension. A tall, sleek figure strode into the room. His futuristic suit gleamed in the light, form-fitting and full of metallic detailing. His face was hidden behind a sleek helmet that reflected his surroundings like a liquid mirror. His presence was imposing.

“Where is my payment?” he demanded in a firm, authoritative voice.

The Serpoians turned to her. One of them held up a black suitcase. “Here you go. However, it is less than agreed. You delivered late.”

The woman crossed her arms, her posture conveying palpable disdain. “My mentor accepts no excuses. Neither do I. This deal was for a larger sum.”

“The delay justifies the reduction,” one of the aliens replied coldly.

The woman clicked her tongue, visibly upset. Meanwhile, Momo, though still terrified, could not take her eyes off the newcomer.  There was something in her voice, in the way she moved… Something that felt strangely familiar.

Her eyes widened as she connected the pieces. “Y/n?” she muttered, almost breathless.

The woman stopped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Momo. Although the helmet still obscured her face, the slight shift in her posture made her discomfort clear.

The room fell into a tense silence following Y/n’s words. Momo stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling as tears threatened to fall.

“What are you doing here, Y/n? What is this? Why are you with them?” she asked with a mix of rage and desperation.

Y/n let out an audible sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not personal, Momo. It’s just work. You… were the target. I was paid to bring them what they needed. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Momo raised her voice, her tears finally overflowing. “Is that what I am to you? A job? We were supposed to be friends! I was supposed to be able to trust you!”

Y/n’s helmet reflected the cold lights of the room, hiding any emotion that might have been on her face. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave her away. She tried to stand her ground, looking at Momo from a distance. “This isn’t about you or us, Momo. It’s about… surviving. You don’t understand how my world works. No one survives without making sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?! Is that what I am to you? One more sacrifice to keep you going?” Momo screamed, struggling against the restraints that kept her immobilized. “You were my friend, Y/n! I trusted you like no one else! I always thought you would understand me!”  But here you are, giving me away like I'm... like I'm a thing!”

Momo's words hit like a hammer. For a moment, Y/n stood still, unable to respond. Something in Momo's voice, in the broken sincerity of her words, touched her heart.

“Do you remember what you told me when you picked me up that night?” Momo continued between sobs. “You said that no matter what, you'd be there for me. That friends never betray each other. And look at you now... giving me away like I'm worthless.”

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Even the Serpoians fell silent, watching the confrontation.

Y/n lowered her head slightly, her voice sounding lower, almost unsure. “It's not that simple, Momo... I—”

“Don't give me excuses!” Momo interrupted her, her voice cracking. “Look at me! Tell me that all of this is worth it!  “Tell me you’re okay with what you’re doing!”

Y/n stood still for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Then, she took a step back, clenching her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely audible. Without another word, she turned to the Serpoians. “The deal is done. I’m leaving.”

“Y/n!” Momo screamed, her voice filled with desperation. “Please! Don’t leave me here! Please don’t do this to me!”

But Y/n didn’t stop. She headed for the door without looking back, her bright figure disappearing into the dimness of the hallway. Just before the door closed, Momo, her voice cracking, let out one last scream that echoed in the silence:

“I would never have done this to you, Y/n! Never!”

The echo of her words hung in the air, and for an instant, Y/n stood on the other side of the door.  Her shoulders shook slightly, but she didn’t turn around. With a quick movement, she disappeared, leaving Momo alone, her sobs filling the room as the Serpoians turned their attention back to her.

“Why…?” Momo whispered through her tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

The Serpoians had run out of patience. One of them approached with cold, calculated movements, a strange humming sound emanating from his device.

“Let us prepare to extract the necessary organs. Your resistance is irrelevant,” one declared in a metallic voice.

Momo struggled uselessly against the restraints, her face drenched in tears. “Get away from me! You cannot do this!”

The alien lifted the probe, slowly bringing it closer to Momo. “We will begin the procedure now.”

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone broke through the air, Momo’s mobile phone began to vibrate on the nearby table. The Serpoians paused, staring at it curiously.

“External interruptions are not acceptable,” one of them said, reaching out a hand to take the device.

Before she could touch it, the phone’s screen lit up in a deep red.  A deep vibration filled the room, and suddenly, a figure emerged from the screen: Y/n, holding a strangely designed pistol.

“Did I interrupt something again?” she asked in an icy tone, pointing directly at the Serpoians.

Beside her, staggering, appeared the boy possessed by Turbo Granny. His body was bent at impossible angles, and his eyes shone with a mix of fear and rage.

“Ayase!” Ken shouted, struggling to stay on his feet as Turbo Granny seemed to control his movements.

The aliens took a step back, observing the scene with a mix of shock and wariness.

“How did you get in here again, Agent Jean Jacket?” one of the Serpoians demanded, raising his hands in a defensive stance.

Y/n let out a dry laugh, though her gaze remained fixed on them. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Momo, still trapped in the chair, stared at Y/n in disbelief and rage. “Now you decide to show up?! After everything you did?!”

“This doesn’t change anything, Momo,” Y/n said without looking at her, her voice strained. “This is still not personal.”

“Please don’t give me that again!” Momo screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks.

For an instant, Y/n hesitated, but didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the trigger on her gun, firing a beam that struck one of the Serpoians, knocking it to the ground.

Turbo Granny, controlling Ken, let out a terrifying shriek and launched herself at another alien, biting it ferociously on the torso.

“Momo, take cover!” Y/n screamed as the remaining aliens began to respond to the attack, their suits glowing as they prepared to fight back.

“I can’t! I’m tied up!” Momo screamed in desperation, pulling at the straps with all her might.

Ken screamed in desperation, his body still fighting against Turbo Granny’s possession. Tears fell from his eyes as the words filled the room, his voice cracked from years of repressed pain.

“No matter how many times I called you, you never came!” He exclaimed, fists clenched, body tense under Granny’s control.  “There I was bullied by children, ignored by aliens… children paid me to beat them up!”

Ken’s words were desperate, but the fury and pain seemed to give him the strength to keep fighting. “My life sucked! And no one cared if I was alive or dead… but (Y/n) and Miss Ayase were the only ones who stood up for me! So get your filthy hands off her!”

At that moment, a spark of control seemed to surge within him. His body trembled, but his mind struggled to take back the reins, preparing to attack. Anger fueled him, his will finally regaining some strength.

Momo, from her position, screamed in desperation, unable to do anything but watch as the fight raged. “Hidden-kun! Do it! We need you!”

But amidst the chaos, the aliens began to move, aware of the growing threat Ken posed. One of them, still reeling from Turbo Granny’s impact, gave an order. “Get those humans! They won’t let this end well!”

The tension rose, but the worst seemed yet to come. A Serpoian, with cold, calculated movements, approached Momo, holding her by the shoulders tightly. “If you don’t give us what we ask for, you’ll regret it,” he said in a monotone voice, while his companion watched Ken, who was still trying to break free from Granny’s influence.

“Gross!” one of the other aliens commented, watching the scene become more and more chaotic.

Momo looked at Ken, fighting against his own body, knowing that control was fragile. “Ken! Don’t give up! You can do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

“Enough of all this!”  The voice, firm and full of power, boomed through the room.

It was Y/n. Her presence was imposing, the helmet reflecting the light from the screens, but behind it, her expression was determined.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Momo!” she said, as she raised her gun towards the Serpoians.

One of them tried to react, but a direct shot to his torso stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

Momo briefly looked away at Ken, but soon returned her focus to Turbo Granny, whose teeth were still piercing her calf.

“I’ll eat your cock!”

“What?” Y/n stepped back, horrified, but still trying to understand the situation.

“I… it’s not me! It’s Turbo Granny!”

“Are you really the only ones who can save me?” Momo thought, as her eyes focused on Ken. The situation was becoming more and more chaotic.

The alien and Momo watched the conflict in silence. Finally, the alien turned his gaze to Momo, noticing the chaos between the humans. “Now I will begin with the excitement.”

He extended his hand over Momo, who closed her eyes, feeling a growing pressure. Her face twisted in disgust as, for a moment, she thought she could no longer get out of this situation. It was then that, in her mind, an image from her childhood began to emerge: an important memory of her grandmother.

“Release your chi.”

“I don’t want to...”

Momo, as a little girl, found herself at the entrance of her grandmother’s house, long before she met you or Ken.

“The other kids always make fun of me for that. I look stupid.” Momo explained to the older woman, as her grandmother knelt in front of her with a calm smile.

“No, it’s not like that… When you release your chi, you will never get hurt or sick.  It will also help you keep evil away.” Grandma placed her hands gently on Momo’s shoulders, before taking her small hands firmly.

“Now, tense your abdominal muscles and imagine your chi rising from the top of your head.”

Momo, with effort, tried to follow the directions. Immediately, a painful memory flashed through her: the children laughing at her when she tried to do that pose.

“I hate it! I won’t do it again!” Momo screamed, shaking her head as her eyes widened in fury.

Her grandmother, still patient, held out her hand, asking for calm. “Momo! Wait!”

“I hate you, Grandma! You’re an imposter!”

That moment of anger made the memory flash through her mind in a distorted way. However, deep down, Momo knew she didn’t hate her grandmother. She only felt ashamed, something she was now beginning to understand.

Then, he began to imagine his grandmother’s words, remembering the technique she had taught him. As he visualized the flow of her chi, something inside him triggered, and, in that instant, the chair containing her broke under her energy.

The fight between Ken and Momo stopped at the same time, both of them staring in amazement as Momo began to levitate.

“What?! She never said she had psychic powers!” Ken exclaimed, his eyes wide as Momo floated.

With a slight bend in her legs, Momo raised her hands, looking at the two men around her in surprise. “I… I didn’t know I had them either.”

The alien who had tried to attack extended his hands towards Momo, but she, now fully focused, stared at him. “My psychokinesis is being repelled by a higher force. What’s going on? Maybe the human’s brain waves were overloaded, allowing her to access her chakra.”

Momo, fascinated by the piece of metal floating above her hand, turned her gaze towards the alien with a determined smile. “She’s not an impostor! My grandmother is a genuine medium! Thank you, Grandma!”

Meanwhile, the boy tried to bite Y/n and in the process, ripped off her helmet, revealing Y/n’s pastel blue skin and the dark blue glowing antennae emerging from her head.

She tried to defend herself, trying not to shoot him with her gun, but he scratched her skin, making fissures that healed automatically.

Momo stood up and, with her newly acquired powers, launched a powerful kick at the alien. However, he raised his arm and stopped her with force. “Now I have the power to face these monsters! And make them fly!” Momo shouted, full of determination.

With a last effort, she kicked the alien, sending him through the walls. The explosion that followed was deafening, and the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

Momo screamed as she felt her body collapse, as she watched the destruction falling around her. “We are inside a real UFO!” she exclaimed, surprised, looking around for Y/n and Ken, and finding them on the ground fighting, she was horrified. “(Y/n)! Occult-kun!”

Swiftly, Momo approached Granny Turbo. Suddenly, her body began to glow with a clear light, while her hair flowed wildly. At that moment, the curse that weighed on Ken disappeared.

Suddenly, the room darkened, turning red. Before them, Granny Turbo appeared, her gaze fixed and malicious. “Who the hell are you two?” she said, her voice cold and challenging.

Turbo Granny curled her fingers, causing Ken to pull away from Y/n, his body arching as a painful gurgle came from his lips. Momo watched, eyes wide, recoiling slightly as she saw how Ken was still under Granny’s control. “Granny is out of her body!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “But he is still under her curse!”

“This child belongs to me,” Turbo Granny said with a mocking smile. “As long as I have him, the curse will not be lifted.  I can't stay here for long, but if you want me to free him, go to the tunnel. If you want to fight me, come to me. Damn classless bitches!”

“Who are you calling a bitch, you filthy old woman?! Give him his penis back!” Momo shouted at the ghost that was walking away.

Y/n, seeing Momo so worried and determined, quickly approached her and, with unexpected strength, lifted her into her arms. Momo blushed at feeling so close to her, her cheeks turning red as she couldn't help but look down, avoiding Y/n's eyes, which were shining with determination.

“Don't worry! We're going to get out of here,” Y/n said firmly, beginning to quickly climb the walls of the UFO with the agility of an expert. Momo clung to her, the warmth of her body comforting her, but her mind was filled with chaos. In her chest, a strange feeling was born, something she had never felt before.

Ken, still disoriented from the curse and the explosion, was on the ground, slowly recovering. Y/n, still moving, lifted him up with one hand, placing him on her back as she continued to ascend.

“Come on, Ken! You have to get up, we have to go now!” Y/n shouted, and Ken, his eyes still somewhat clouded, nodded weakly.

The room was crumbling around them, and a dark energy filled the air. The walls were beginning to shake violently, and the lights flickered desperately. Momo, her face still flushed from the closeness to Y/n, looked down as they ascended, unable to stop her heart from beating faster than normal. What was this strange feeling that was invading her?

Suddenly, a loud boom shook the UFO, and a gigantic explosion went off behind them. The walls began to give way, and the ship seemed to be on the verge of total destruction. Y/n, not losing her cool, leapt forward, bringing Momo and Ken with her in her leap, escaping just before the UFO exploded into a ball of fire.

With a deafening bang, the UFO disintegrated behind them, and in the air, Y/n, Momo, and Ken flew through space, jumping out of the ship's reach, completely safe but on the verge of despair.

Momo hugged Y/n tightly, no longer caring about the blush, as the wind whipped at them, and Ken's body rested on Y/n's back.  The scene was chaotic, but it had all happened so fast, and the only thought running through Momo's mind was how she felt so strangely calm in Y/n's arms, as the ship crumbled behind them.

"Are we safe?" Ken asked, his voice weak, as he watched the distance between them and the exploding ship.

"Yes," Y/n answered, without hesitation. "We're safe... for now."

But as they floated in the air, Momo couldn't help but wonder how they could have survived all of that. And even more so, how her feelings towards Y/n seemed to have changed in a matter of seconds, and what it all meant to her.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Near Kamigoe Prefecture, a curious pastel-green being walked casually through the crowded streets of the city. It had the appearance of a puppy dog, though its size, its long antennae that glowed faintly in the daylight, and its tail that swung like a whip of jelly made it clear that it was no ordinary dog. In one hand it held a burrito wrapped in silver paper, and in the other, a large soda that made gurgling sounds with each step.

The little alien eagerly bit into the burrito, spilling some of the sauce on the ground. It paused for a moment, sucking its fingers before continuing to walk. Its attitude was that of someone who belonged there, though it didn’t bother to hide the strangeness of its appearance. People watched it in awe, but the alien seemed immune to the curious glances.

“Mom, look! A puppy!” exclaimed a little girl with braids, pointing at it with joy.

The being stopped dead in its tracks, its ears (or what seemed to be ears) perking up at the sound. It slowly turned its head towards the little girl, its eyes shining like a pair of tiny green suns. “Who are you calling a puppy, kid!?” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice with an accent that seemed to be from another planet… literally.

The little girl’s mother froze, tugging on her daughter’s hand as she tried to process what had just happened.

“Speak, Mom! The puppy is speaking!” the excited little girl shouted, tugging on her mother’s arm.

The alien, offended, snorted and raised his donkey towards the little girl, as if it were some sort of weapon. “Hey, on my planet, insulting someone by calling them a puppy is a declaration of war, you know? But I’m too busy today to respond to your taunts.”

The mother, now completely terrified, dragged her daughter away from the little being, muttering something about “moving to the country.”  The alien pup shook his head as he took a long sip of his soda, producing a clattering sound that drew even more stares.

“Humans…” he muttered tiredly, his antennae twitching in slight annoyance. “You can’t just walk around town without someone mistaking you for a pet.”

He continued on his way, dodging the crowd with surprising agility for someone with a burrito and a soda in his hands. Every so often, he would stop in front of a store to admire some product, though he quickly grew bored and kept moving.

A man in a suit saw him pass by and frowned. “Is that… a dog in a costume?”

“I’m not a dog!” the alien shouted without even turning around. “And stop looking at me like that or I’ll throw my burrito in your face!”

The threat seemed to have an effect, and the man walked away muttering something about “needing more coffee.”

The little creature finally reached the entrance to the town, where the lights were beginning to fade and the shops were turning into open fields. It stopped and looked out at the horizon, its antennae leaning forward as if it were sensing something. It took a last sip of its soda, letting out a loud burp that echoed through the air.

“Fine…” it said, wiping its mouth with the back of its hand. “Now I just need to find that damn ship before someone else calls me a puppy.”

He continued walking towards the end of the city, his half-eaten burrito still in his hand. Behind him lay a line of perplexed humans, and ahead of him a fate awaited him that, as always, would be anything but boring.

The little alien continued to walk with a sure step, enjoying his half-finished burrito, when suddenly, his antennae began to vibrate intensely. A slight buzzing sound went through his head, as if he had tuned into a distant frequency. His expression tensed, and his eyes, which used to shine with indifference, now narrowed with seriousness.

“What the…?” he muttered, looking around as if searching for the source of the phenomenon. His antennae continued to vibrate, and the buzzing sound grew higher. Then, looking up, he saw it.

In the distance, a thick column of black smoke rose from the old university hospital, followed by an explosion that lit up the sky as if it were a misplaced fireworks display.  The alien dropped his soda, which slowly rolled to a stop in a sewer.

“No way!” he screamed, bringing his hands to his antennae as if trying to stop the humming. He looked back at the hospital, frowning in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/n did it again?!”

The small being began to walk faster, then trotted, muttering under his breath. “I told you not to go soft on the merchandise! But no, you always have to play the heroine, dammit!”

He paused for a moment, as if he had remembered something, and shook his head in frustration. “And you sure left a mess behind, like always! By all the rings of Saturn, you’re really going to listen to me this time!”

With one last glance at the burning hospital, he let out an annoyed growl.  “I hope you at least saved something valuable, because if not…”

The little alien ran off on his short legs, leaving his donkey forgotten on the ground. His pastel green silhouette was lost in the shadows, while the smoke from the hospital covered the horizon, promising chaos and answers in the distance.

A/N ── Oh, hey, it's me again.

First off, let me tell you something: I'm in love with Dandadan. Seriously, I can't even explain how much I was hooked on this series from the moment I found out how it went. It was like a cosmic crush. Each chapter left me more hooked, more obsessed, and obviously I couldn't resist. I ended up buying the ENTIRE manga set that was available so far. I literally couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen with Momo after those last chapters that left me with my heart in my throat. This series is pure magic and chaos, and I can't get over it.

Now, let's talk about my baby, or Y/n. Let me tell you that her spacesuit is directly inspired by Smart Lady from a Japanese series (if you know which one, you're one of mine). I wanted something that screams alien but with style, and I feel like I nailed it... sort of. But, here comes the kicker: her personality is still not well defined. She's a mess, I admit. But that's the whole idea. Because she's an undercover alien, her personality changes depending on the environment she's in. It's like she's constantly adapting to fit in, but at the same time, that lack of consistency is part of her identity. Existential drama at its finest!

And here comes the tricky but interesting part: the character doesn't have a defined gender. Visually, she could pass for a woman, and she identifies as a woman because that's how she feels, but here's the plot twist: she has no defined genitals. Yes, you read that right. She's neither biologically male nor female. She's something beyond that, something that she may not even fully understand. For now, she treats herself as a woman because that's what feels most comfortable and natural to her earthly experience, but... does it really matter? I want to explore how that ambiguity affects her, how it influences the way she sees herself and her interactions with others. It's a key part of her story that I hope to develop little by little.

Oh, and regarding the technical chaos... I know this first part had its problems. It was published by itself, the dialogues were poorly arranged, it was very long, blah, blah, blah. But now, it's all well and good. I think.

[just-a-ghost00]

Are you on the right path?

Group 1

Song : Meltdown - Motionless in White, Lost At Sea - B.I ft Bipolar Sunshine & Afgan Cards : Knight of wands, Emperor, queen of pentacles, Empress, knight of cups, 7 of cups

Not only are you on the right path but you're also on the verge of manifesting your divine counterpart. With a bunch of other lovely souls that will likely confuse you. Because all of them are possibly soulmates. Group 1, are you a candle? Because you shine so bright a lot of people are gathering around you and celebrating you. Some might even want to blow that candle of yours (pun intended). The future seems pretty positive for you so far. Expect several romantic offers, a lot of flirting and a lot of fun, mixed with a pinch of confusion. It feels like even though you reject some offers, these souls will stay in your lane because yall are a team. A soul fam. A pack of hungry wolves that strive for success. Look at you! All sexy and pampered, ready to secure the bag and be the next big thing. Dear Lord, you are gorgeous! The Universe is clapping for you and so is good old Wade. What more can you ask for? You'll be stepping into your power, getting them opportunities and living your best life. Yall have been doing the work and it's paying off big time. In terms of potential zodiac signs to look out for, we have Aries, Sagittarius, Taurus, Cancer and Pisces. Possibly Scorpio and Leo as well. You'll be attracting men and women identifying individuals alike, even non binary people. Every one seems to be drunk in love with you. I feel like you're the Empress in this spread. And then you have two knights, one queen and one emperor circling around you like sharks. And this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The Emperor person is your divine counterpart. Now, choosing them isn't mandatory. I feel like there is no wrong answer in this situation. Whomever you choose to be with is the one for you. Fate is in your hands.

Letters/possible significant signs : M, B, E, K, camels, horses, koi fish, stars

Group 2

Songs : Nakigahara - The GazettE, Awake and Alive - Skillet Cards : 10 of cups, the world, 5 of wands, 4 of wands, 7 of cups, black numen rx

Though you may face hardships coming from your community or the environment you're in, feel confused at the amount of fork in the roads you're presented with, you are heading in the right direction. And the outcome of your journey is a positive one. You may be travelling or relocating soon, finding a new home. This is a new begenning for you. You're getting out of a dark night of the soul. I was about to write "dark knight" instead. There could be Batman fans in this group. If we take the Batman metaphor, Bruce Wayne has been through a lot. Many times, he was faced with hardships and doubted his purpose. He doubted the good in him as he was flirting with the shadows of humanity, dealing with the worst in people. Yet, he never stopped moving forward. He kept fighting, he kept hoping for a better future for humanity. And eventually he'd find something positive to hold on to. Well, same goes for you. Because there are obstacles on your way and people that don't see eye to eye with you doesn't mean that you should stop believing in and fighting for your ideals and dreams. Which you will be doing in the future without a doubt. Expect more happiness, fulfillment in most areas of your life. Expect a healthier and more supportive community, a lot of interesting opportunities. You're taking your destiny in charge and deciding to work towards your goals no matter the opinion have of you. This time, you are choosing yourself over others. That's the spirit group 2! Hit the bull's eye! You can be proud of yourself.

Letters/possible significant signs : koi fish, dogs, roses, A, W, N

Group 3

Songs : Break me The GazettE, path of the wind aekasora, The Beginning One OK Rock

Cards : knight of swords, 10 of pentacles, king of cups, wheel of fortune, page of pentacles, hanged man

You may have had a rough time lately group 3 and were in a phase where your reality didn’t match your expectations and hopes nor did it align with the amount of effort you put into manifesting your desired reality. You may have felt desperate, depressed, frustrated. But let me be the bringer of good news : that vicious cycle is ending. A new wind is blowing in your direction. One that will make you soar high and above that dark cloud you were stuck in. You’re going to see the bigger picture and you will thank yourself for holding on all these years. Your career and studies are going to take a major positive turn. Luck is in your favor. Yes, you are on the right path. You always were. You just didn’t see it because you were in the maze. But you’ll gain a new perspective soon with that hanged man energy. I feel like you’ll be taking a completely different approach to your life in general. If you were considering completely changing your work methods or habits, that is definitely your sign this is the right thing to do. If you were the kind to follow others and hang to tradition as a safety measure, now you’ll be taking the lead and innovating. If you were the kind to wait for others to notice you and ask about you, now you’ll be the one reaching out and asking about people. And vice versa. You may be learning new skills that will benefit you financially. You may get help from an Earth and/or a Water sign. If you are a Virgo or a fixed sign (Leo, Taurus, Aquarius, Scorpio) then this is your confirmation this reading is for you. You are encourage to keep going in the direction you’re heading and be resilient. You are doing a good job group 3. There may be a connection solidifying in the 3D over time. That grounding of the connection will however happen slowly. It may take a lot of time before it comes to fruition. You may at some point enter a stagnating energy and feel like nothing is moving. Do not be scared when that happens. This is only temporary.

Letters and significant signs : spiders, eyes, squirrels, B, O, K, P, W

[posi-pan]

wayne brady is pansexual!!! 💗💛💙🥳

i’m pansexual. in doing my research, both with myself and just with the world, i couldn’t say if i was bisexual, because i had to really see what that was, especially because i really have not gotten a chance to act on anything. so, i came to pansexual because — and i know that i’m completely messing up the dictionary meaning — but to me, pan means being able to be attracted to anyone who identifies as gay, straight, bi, transsexual or non-binary. being able to be attracted across the board. and, i think, at least for me for right now, that is the proper place. i took pan to mean that not only can i be attracted to any of these people or types physically, but i could be attracted to the person that is there. i’ve dealt with the shame. a shame cake, just eating it every single day — and then worried about… people finding out. i’ve always had a wonderful community of friends who are in the lgbtq+ community, people that i’ve grown up with in shows, gays and lesbians, and, later in life, my trans relatives and my niece. i’ve always had that community, but i've always felt like a sham because i wasn’t being forthcoming with myself. i could speak out about black issues because i can’t hide that. and you can play at being an ally, but until the day that you can truly say, “this is who i am, and i wanna stand next to you,” that's not… i always wanted that day to come. i’ve told myself in the past, also, nobody needs to know my personal business. the world can absolutely go without knowing that wayne identifies as pan. but that gave me license to still live in the shadows and to be secretive. what does that feel like to actually not be shameful, to not feel like, “oh, i can’t be part of this conversation because i’m lying?” i had to break that behavior. i’m now trying to be the most wayne brady i can be. i don’t know about most, actually. i’m still coming together. but if i’m healthy, then i can go onstage at let’s make a deal and be the best wayne brady that everybody wants and expects. i can be the best dad that maile needs. i can be the best friend to mandie, the best son to my mother, and one day, the best partner to someone, because i’m doing this for me. not dating yet though! [laughs] i am single, but it’s not about being with someone right now. i’ve got some work to do still. then, wayne as a single, open-minded pansexual can make a decision and be free and open to other people.

i included more quotes from the article than just strictly pan related because it’s quite touching. good for him!!!! 🌈👏🥰

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Honey Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader fluff - Part of the Biker!Bucky Series

One part lead-up to the future and one part how Bucky and belle met.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and alcohol, discussion of a past relationship that bordered on abusive (non-binary reference), more car talk because i love mini coopers.

Note: My apologizes because i lost all my progress on this when i was about halfway through. Also I just have brainrot about them now sorry in advance.

"No no no no, please baby you can make it its just a litt-" The engine shuddered and then gave out. You groaned, banging your head against the steering wheel as you pulled off to the side of the quiet street. It was getting stifling in the car very quickly. The heat wave was precisely why you needed to take Baby Blue in. Your phone showed another mile and a half on the map you saved. This shop was in some dead end town, but it was the only one that had agreed to service the vintage coop.

"Couldn't have saved me the walk?" you asked to the car as you grabbed your bag and hauled it over your shoulder. You scrawled a note to leave on the windshield and began down the straight road. The trees on either side provided some shade, but there was no sidewalk, so as you continued you could peek back at your car and to check on any oncoming traffic.

The first signs of life you saw came ten minutes into your walk. You hadn't gotten far. It was sweltering and you had to leave straight from work, so your shoes were the least comfortable thing to walk in as you sweat.

Two motorcycles were headed your way, and to your surprise they both stopped. One was wearing a light brown leather jacket, and he pulled off his helmet immediately. He had blond hair and a kind looking smile, but you were also alone in a mysterious location with no signal.

"Hey, you alright?" You stared at them, and took a step back when he took a step toward you.

"Uh-"

"You had an appointment at the Howling Commando? Twenty minutes ago? Blue vintage Austin Mini Cooper?" The other guy had popped up his visor, but hadn't taken off the helmet yet. His blue eyes were sharp, watching you. You took another two steps back.

"Buck, lose the helmet," the blond guy admonished, "We work there, you said when you called that you were worried about the heat and the engine, so when you no-showed we thought you might have gotten stuck. I'm Steve. We talked on the phone the first time I think, and then you talked to Yelena to get the details." The other guy pulled off his helmet and you thought your heart might stop. Sure the blond, Steve, was handsome in a clean cut preppy kind of way, but this guy looked like he walked out of one of the fantasy books your read as a kid. Dark eyebrows slanted over his bright blue eyes, his scruff adding to the rugged look he was sporting. He waved, a shy smile slicing away the fear you had held entirely. It changed his face, you wanted to make it happen again.

"Bucky. We'll get you all fixed up."

-/-/-/-/-

"Belle, ya home?" You looked up from your laptop. You hadn't been able to pull yourself away from the document you were building for the new hires.

"Yeah- I- oh shit. I forgot to start dinner." You turned to find Bucky stepping through the doorway from the kitchen. His grease stained tshirt was tossed over his shoulder already, leaving all his tattoos on display. One in particular always caught your attention, the sketch of a mini cooper right over his heart.

"How many time do I gotta tell you?" He asked, dropping the shirt in the hallway before coming over to you. You stood, tilting your chin to look up at him as he wrapped one arm around your back and cradled the back of your neck with the other.

"You don't have to worry about that stuff, honey. I'll take care of dinner. Finish up your work, it'll be done in no time."

"I need a break, baby, seriously. I'll help." His eyes narrowed.

"You sure?" You nodded, turning back to hit save and taking his outstretched hand to go back into the kitchen. You chopped veggies while he marinated chicken and he told you about his day at the shop. It was a familiar routine by now, three years into your relationship, but you couldn't help but feel the guilt in your stomach again. He spent all day on his feet.

"Hey, lose the face." You looked up at him.

"What?"

"I can feel your thoughts from over here." He set down the spices, rinsing his hands and patting them dry before coming over to you and wrapping you up in his arms. He was anything but weak, and carefully lifted you onto the unoccupied part of the counter and stood between your legs, looking you dead in the eye. You blinked slowly, trying not to fall into the trap of his icy-blue silence. It was impossible.

"I just feel bad is all, you spend all day on your feet and working and then you come home and make dinner. It feels, not fair." Bucky tilted his head to the side, eyebrows up. It was a conversation you had all the time, and you knew how he felt about it. He did serious very well, even if you knew there was a smile lurking just behind it.

"You know that's not how I feel. I love taking care of you. You work so hard every day trying to change the world for the better. I go dick around with my friends all day playing with cars." You snorted.

"I'm serious! My number one and most important job is taking care of my girl. I will make you dinner every night for the rest of our lives together, if that's what it takes to prove it."

"You don't have to do-"

"Nope, you're banished from the kitchen. Go feed Alpine. Get lost." You laughed, taking his face into your hands before he could lift you back off the counter. His lips were warm and soft, and his hands wrapped tighter around your middle as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss before pulling away. You rested your forehead against his, breathing in the smell of motor oil and coffee.

"I love you, James Barnes." He gave you that sweet smile, the one that transformed him into an entirely different man.

"I love you, honey belle. Now get the fuck outta my kitchen."

-/-/-/-/-

You woke up and stretched, yawning as your rubbed your eyes and sat up. And then you became aware again that you were not in your own room and you were laying in an empty bed. You glanced around, noting the distinct lack of a tall tattooed biker who had left hickeys on your chest and had all but fucked you to sleep the night before.

In his place lay a small gray cat, it sat up when you did and surveyed you before jumping gracefully off the bed and leaving out the open door. You stood up, glancing at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing a shirt that said the Howling Commandos Garage and Bar on the front. It was well worn and soft, with little frays on the bottom and the collar. Your hair was a mess and you smoothed it out before following the cat into the rest of the apartment. Your clothes which had been strewn across the living room were neatly folded in a pile on the back of the couch, and there was a note scrawled on top.

Had to head off to fix up your baby. Coffee in the pot. Stay if you'd like. Bucky

Bucky looked wistfully down the block at his apartment building.

"What is your deal today, Barnes?" Sam asked. He was newer, and Steve had brought him in to tend bar, but also help with the books at the garage. Bucky grumbled that they didn't need new people, and Steve returned with patience that just because Bucky didn't want to make new friends, didn't mean they didn't need new staff.

"He's got a crush," Steve laughed from the other side of a pickup.

"I'll have you know I sealed that deal," Bucky shot back. There was a thunk sound and then Steve appeared over the hood, rubbing the top of his head.

"What the hell are you doing there then?" Bucky shrugged.

"She was still asleep. I left her coffee and a note." Sam snorted.

"See her never."

"Her car is literally right in front of me."

"She's gonna take it somewhere else," Sam shot back. Bucky's eyes narrowed, dropping the wrench he had on hand. He was starting towards Sam when a new voice echoed through the garage.

"I would really appreciate it if you fixed my car, not got blood on it." You strolled in the front of the garage and Bucky considered falling to his knees and begging for you to stay with him forever. You were wearing your jeans and sandals from the night before, but on top you had on his Howling Commandos shirt with the original design and logo. You were holding one of the mugs from his kitchen and had an easy smile on your face.

"I thought I'd come check on the progress on my baby. Maybe learn a thing or two." Steve smirked at Bucky and turned back to his work. Sam had suddenly made himself scarce into the office.

"Sure thing, but can't let you learn too much, you might notice some things going wrong just so you can stop by to see me." You nudged Bucky with your elbow, taking a sip of coffee as you followed him back to your car.

"I don't know, I think I could have other reasons to stop by and see you."

-/-/-/-/-

You woke up to sunlight coming in through the open curtains. Bucky was sound asleep on his stomach, face pressed into his pillow and his arm thrown over you. After a moment of relishing the cuteness of him keeping you close while he was asleep, you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the kitchen.

It was mostly clean, and you started a pot of coffee for the morning before tidying up just a little bit more. Bucky had slipped in after you fell asleep. He was working the bar when you left full of a burger and with kisses pepper to your nose promising he'd be home soon. The rest of the staff had ribbed him endlessly while saying goodnight to you.

You grumbled to yourself about having to wake Bucky's whining ass up to take you to work when you noticed something on the counter. Your car keys. Trying not to get your hopes up, you peeked out the front windows and let out a squeal when you saw your car sitting in the driveway, a comically small bow on the hood.

"Wha-Who's there?" Bucky ran out in just his boxers, fists up prepared to fight an intruder apparently, but instead got a chestful of you.

"She's done?" It took him a moment to register what who you were and what you were referring to.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, belle, she's done." You threw your arms around Bucky's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"Thank you thank you thank you! She'll run for another three years? No problems?" Bucky held you tight, sleep already returning as he nuzzled against your neck.

"Even better. She should be alright for at least another five to ten." You pressed kisses to his face and then his hands, and kissed him goodbye for the day. Your outfit for the morning was already hanging in the bathroom and it made your morning to not have to pack extra clothes for the bike. Instead you put your coffee in a to go mug, your lunchbox in your purse, and headed for the door. The car started up with a hum and you patted the dash, turning on your favorite radio station and rolling down the windows on your way to work.

-/-/-/-/-

You sighed on your way into your apartment. Bucky said he was headed over after you left, and now you had to clean up and start on dinner. Work had been exhausting, and you had found yourself fixing other peoples' work first thing in the morning, which put you back on your own deadlines.

Still, you tossed your bag onto the black hole chair of random items in the bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something comfy for movie night. You had bought all the ingredients for homemade pizzas over the weekend when you were ambitious about when you were going to get out of work.

"Five minutes on the couch," you muttered to yourself, "then back to work." Five minutes quickly turned into doom scrolling until Bucky knocked on your front door.

"Shit." You jumped off the couch and started pulling things out of the fridge frantically to make it look like you had already started the process. The knocking grew frantic after a minute and you rushed to the door. Bucky's eyes were wide, but he relaxed when he saw you were fine.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you." His soft smile melted your nerves a fraction, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

"You had a long day, I understand." He followed you into the kitchen, and you frowned at the array you had pulled out. Sure you had the pizza dough and sauce but also a jar of pickles, some miso, and a block of tofu.

"What were you planning on making?" Bucky asked, examining the contents of a mystery tupperware.

"Uh..." You considered coming up with a lie about cleaning your fridge, panic welling back up that he would be upset you had gotten sidetracked away from making dinner.

"I... I'm sorry, I panicked when I heard you because I hadn't started making dinner and I knew you would be hungry so I just started pulling things out of the fridge and I..." you could feel yourself beginning to ramble into a spiral.

"Woah! Woah, belle, calm down. It's okay!" Bucky came around the counter, hands on your shoulders to ground you.

"It is really okay, belle, I know you had a long day. You don't have to make me dinner. I mean it. You work long hours and clean up other people's messes all day." You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and looked down at the logo of some motorcycle brand on Bucky's shirt.

"You just work all day at the shop and I know that can be exhausting, so I just wanted to make you food so you'll be..." you trailed off. So he would be what? Had never gotten pissed at you because dinner wasn't on the table or that you didn't get him his drink before yours. He had never thrown his empty can in your direction when you didn't get a new one for him before it was empty. Bucky called your name, pushing your chin up to meet his eyes. They were big and blue and full of concern that grew when he saw the tears in yours.

"Honey, where is this coming from? We could have ordered takeout for all I cared?"

You swallowed and took a deep breath.

"My ex, they were blue collar. Worked in construction. They didn't... they thought I should do all the housework and make dinner since I sat at a desk all day. They would get... angry when I didn't or said I was too tired or it wasn't ready when they got home or I ran out of their favorite drink and... I just want you to be happy." Bucky's frown had deepened and the concern in his blue eyes had turned to anger.

"Where are they now? Who would ever do that to you?" His head turned to see if he could spot any memory of them in the apartment. To your surprise it made you laugh to see him be so protective over something that wasn't there.

"Long gone. I moved states away to leave them. It's why I've been working so much, honestly. When I switched positions I had to do it for a cut, since at the headquarters I was making more. I don't regret it for a second though." You were looking at him now, sincere. If you never moved you wouldn't have been looking for an apartment when your car overheated and you had to go to the Howling Commando. You would have never met Bucky or found an apartment a few blocks away from the bar and him.

"I'm glad you made it here too," he said finally. He wrapped his arms around you, big arms keeping you safe and his chin on your head grounding you to him.

"I know you spend every day working super hard with people you don't really like. I know you love what you do, but I would never hold any of that against you. I spend every day working with my best friends for as long as or short as I'd like. If you never cook me dinner again, I would still be happy as long as we get to sit down and eat together." He paused, and you could feel his heart beat a little faster, a shift in his posture. For the first time:

"And I love you." Your heart leapt, the tears that you had been wiping against his tshirt flowed again.

"I love you too, Bucky."

-/-/-/-/-

You texted Bucky on your way out of work, and blessedly got into your own car with air-conditioning and seatbelts. Not that you didn't trust Bucky or that you didn't like to ride with him, but it was nice to have a seat to sit in.

You began the journey home, it feeling a little longer than it had for the last few weeks when you clung to Bucky's middle with your eyes closed. You were most of the way home when a telltale rumble of motorcycles started up behind you on the long empty road. It reminded you of the first time you rode with Bucky, down this very same road when your car broke down and he took you back to the shop with him while Steve waited with the car. He had said, after securing his extra helmet to your head, that it would be only time you ever rode without the proper shoes or pants on. You had responded cheekily, since he was hot and it didn't seem like it could hurt the speed at which your car got fixed, that he was suggesting that there would be another time. He had followed that with a quick, "I have your phone number. I find another time."

The bikes were getting closer, four of them, and to your surprise Bucky wasn't with them. Steve and Sam rode on either side of you, offering salutes. You couldn't identify who the two behind were but you could tell one of them was Yelena or Natasha. It was not a regular procession, though when they did see your distinctive car when out riding, they always did stop by for a wave. Instead of leading you home, Sam and Steve guided your car to the parking lot at the Howling Commando. The fairy lights were up for the summer and a few of the regulars were already outside enjoying the weather.

"I was going to go home first you know," you whined at Steve, tossing your blazer into the passenger seat before getting out of the car.

"I think this is more important," he said, turning you away from the bar and toward the shop. The garage doors were open, but inside was obstructed by the shadows from the sunset. When you stepped in you froze. The cars and equipment had all been cleared out and a beautiful flower arrangement was across the floor, Bucky was standing a few feet away, looking nervous as the first time he came to pick you up for dinner. He spotted you and swallowed, standing up straighter as you walked towards him.

"Bucky..." You didn't have the words to say as you joined him in the array of flowers.

"Belle. I love you, I have loved you since the minute I saw you on the side of the road. From the second you wrapped your arms around me on my bike for the first time. The first night we spent together and every night since then I have known that I would spend the rest of my life with you. I promise I will make dinner every night if that's what it takes." You grinned at the little inside joke, tears pouring down your cheeks as he got down on one knee.

"Make me the happiest idiot in the world and marry me?"

"Of course I will. I love you."

[alittledizzy]

okay thoughts/timestamps for the phanniversary newlywed game video!! (random breaks are to appease the tumblr gods)

:55 - The capitalesterification of things that used to be unspoken fandom holidays is startling to me still. Jarring, even. It's theirs to own; I'm not really mad about it. But it feels weird. 2:00 - "You are our third in this video. The questioning third." I need a shot, actually. 2:13 - Dan referencing how they are basically the same person at this point before it even starts. 2:27 - Who would be caught tied to a wall at furcon? Unanimously Dan. This doesn't surprise me at all; my headcanon for a while has been that Dan is more likely to identify as a furry while Phil is more likely to be fascinated watching furries have sex but not identify with any other aspects of it as much. I think Phil probably just enjoys things a bit to the left of center, in general, even if he doesn't want to partake himself. 3:32 Who is bossies? Unanimously Phil. I love this little peak into their dynamic. Ignoring the "stinky baby" thing, they are bossy in different ways. Dan is more big picture trying to accomplish goals and Phil is more to try and satisfy his individual needs.

4:05 - Who is more likely to cut the video off due to a sponsor? Obviously this one is Phil, and cue spon segment that I skipped the first time and am skipping now. 5:28 - Who would accidentally answer the door with no pants on? Unanimously Phil. I think this just speaks to a little more of Phil's general obliviousness and ability to be in his own bubble when he's comfortable, which is kind of fascinating considering Phil seems more anxious and hyperalert when they are in public. 5:50 - Who drinks more? Unanimously Dan. We knew this already about Phil being a lightweight and Dan not being one, but I do enjoy confirmation that Phil is just a silly drunk and the shoutout to a classic dinof video. 6:36 - Who is the gayest? Unanimously Phil. This does not surprise me at all and I am going to answer an ask specifically just about this. But tl;dr I think Phil has a very binary sense of attraction and Dan doesn't. Also he gets a gold star for "the concept of women." 7:02 - Who's most likely to get a tattoo? Unanimously Phil. This Phil lore is interesting and I do think he'll end up with a tattoo at some point. 8:20 - Who is most likely to have the next medical emergency? Unanimously Phil. His body really is a fail. :(

8:42 - Who is better at time management? So many questions in and the first differing response!! This immediately took me back to the roulette game. Good to know Dan has not changed in his stubbornness, and also that he believes a divorce is when he can't see Phil for five seconds. 9:44 - Who snores more when sleeping? Unanimously Phil. rip everyone on that tour bus, apparently? Now I need to know if Dan is the type to just put in earplugs, or if he wakes Phil up when it's too loud. 10:16 - Who starts more arguments? Their second differing response, and imo the most satisfying moment of the video. Insert this type of domestic into my vein. Dan is pettier about small things but he says he's just pointing things out/observing it, and to him he's just verbalizing it and to Phil it's Dan starting an argument. Phil wants Dan to let more things just wash over him. 11:10 - Who kills/removes the spiders? Unanimously Phil, which we already knew but I love a good renewed confirmation that he removes them with a glass instead of killing them. 11:31 - Who is more likely to stand up for the other when a restaurant gets their order wrong? Unanimously Dan, followed by the beautiful phrasing of Phil not even complaining if he got "the cheese super allergy knife bowl, mmm tasty." But the dichotomy here that I really love is how in the microcosm of their relationship Phil is bossier, more outspoken with turning things into arguments, and more likely to ask for and get his way… but when it comes to outside of the relationship Dan finds that more comfortable. Dan really does have that older sibling-verging-on-mom override.

11:53 - Who's more likely to be lurking on social media? Unanimously Phil. Dan is traumatized and I do believe he doesn't want to know or see the commentary on himself or his projects except through a filter. Philter. Sorry. I'll move on. 12:10 - Who is the bigger nerd? Unanimously Dan. Dan does seem more for ADHD style hyperfixation whereas Phil is more of a lifetime fandom person. 12:47 - Which one of you is the alpha? They each answered themselves, but neither of them took this seriously. Phil is right tbh they are both betas. 13:17 - Phil doesn't like being told what to do. This is probably my second favorite part of the video. I feel like it makes sense but isn't something I would readily think of; he doesn't like confrontation so it's not an element of his personality that we would see come out a lot. But he's also someone that's essentially never been in a scenario past the school age where he really had to answer to anyone above him. He's equal in his relationship, he's financially independent, he's in control of his career. Any 'boss' he's had was an unconventional scenario (like BBC1 where he didn't have to apply to be there, he was invited) and while he's worked hard he's just done it of his own volition and not due to anyone outside of himself and his partnership requiring it.

13:29 - Who's more likely to flirt with the waiter? Unanimously Phil, which I love because this is really a slice of true Dan. He didn't once try to imply that he's the lolz horny on grindr getting those hookups slut boy summer persona. Dan is only that in theory; in reality he's worrying about politics and his own anxiety and making sure Phil wasn't served cheese allergy knife soup. 13:59 - Who's more likely to become a stripper? Unanimously Dan. Shoutout to the nakedbooth era of 2009. I also appreciate his point about how being any kind of content creator is similar. 14:40 - Who is most likely to leave their hair in the shower wall? Opposing answers, but Phil's logic is flawed. It isn't who will see it, it's who would do it. Confirmation from Dan again that Phil is very messy and also still uses three towels. 15:04 - Who has a worse sense of direction? Unanimously Phil. I really identify with this.

15:14 - Who has the highest screen time? Unanimously Dan, but they go into the differences in screen time. Phil seems to actively use his more whereas Dan uses it passively to watch things. Dan never lets his mind just be chill and doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, whereas Phil can rawdog the laundry with nothing playing. Dan uses his phone for escapism, Phil uses it to seek out information. 15:52 - Bubbly Ben coming in clutch with "Whom's ass claps the hardest?" - I need an oil painting of Dan's expression as Phil reads this. And the caption should be, "Answer the fucking question, Phil." (It is, obviously, a unanimous Phil.) Followed by one of Dan's patented over the top 'we crossed a line' which I'll forgive him for in this one instance since the entire video was fairly free of his go-to filler quotes.

[spdrvyn]

parched — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))

READ PART 2 HERE.

You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.

He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.

Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.

In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.

You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.

Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.

At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.

It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.

You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.

The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.

Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.

A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.

Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?

Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.

You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—

There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.

As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.

In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.

He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."

Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.

He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.

Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.

"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."

You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.

Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.

Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.

For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."

Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.

You knew exactly what was going to come next.

[midnight-mourning]

Snow Frights & Snowball Fights

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 3❄️❄️

ITS STILL THE THIRD SOMEWHERE

I just keep having too much fun with these prompts gahhh, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: DCA's first christmas outside the pizzaplex, at reader's house maybe? At least a snow fight scene would be fun (I have never been in a snow fight so it's fun to read lols)

Word Count: 1825

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Fire extinguisher! We need the fire extinguisher!"

You cough, hand waving through the thick smoke in your kitchen, "I just, need an oven mitt. It's okay—"

"Found it!" Sun runs in frantically, trips, and faceplants on the floor beside you, as you take the burnt cookies out of the oven. 

Your smoke detector blares loudly above you, fume hood fan roaring just as loudly in your ears as it—slightly—helps to remove the smoke from your kitchen.

Once everything calms down again, namely Sun, you're able to assess the damage. 

Besides a tray of blackened husks you could once call cookies, not much at all. Sun wasn't banged up from his fall, and surprisingly neither was the fire extinguisher. Though, the emotional toll it had taken on both of you was much higher. And that was only the reactions you knew of, you can only imagine how Moon's feeling right now. 

Every holiday event or activity you'd tried to attempt with the attendants had ended sourly. From gift-wrapping, to gift-shopping, ice-skating, tree decorating, and so on and so forth. All of it had ended in complete and utter disaster.

And now, you could add cookie baking to that ever-growing list. 

You pick up one of the burnt black slabs—the result of an incorrect timer—and sigh. You were starting to feel defeated. You'd wanted this holiday season to be special, because it was their first outside the Plex. The first time you could truly share in the experience together, and so far, it'd gone horribly. 

To their credit, they'd both been great sports about it. Never actively showing disappointment or being upset when things went awry. But really, you think they were just keeping up the facade for your sake. 

Like now, for example. 

"You know, I think with a little bit of icing these might be salvageable!" Sun puts a hand on your shoulder, take the cookie from your hand. 

At that moment, it crumble into black dust, he laughs awkwardly. 

You sigh again, then laugh at the absurdity of it all. "I appreciate it, Sun. But I think if I even attempted to eat one of these I'd die instantly."

You pick up the tray, and carry it over to the trash, dumping it unceremoniously. 

"I'm sorry the cookies burnt." He says, sheepishly. "I should have paid better attention to the time."

You wave him off, and walk back over to him. Your arms wrap around his waist as you shake your head. "Nah, it's my fault, I should've known you'd get sucked into 'Rudolph'."

"It's just so interesting! Why is his nose so bright?" He asks, bending down to your level. 

You laugh, kiss him once, then lay your head against his chest. "Your curiosity never ceases to impress me. In a good way. You've always got such a, hope, despite it all."

He holds you closer, chuckling, "You're the one who taught me that, silly."

"See, you always say that, but I've yet to have any proof of it."

Quiet for a moment. 

"Moon thinks it's because you lack self-confidence."

You gasp, pulling back to look the sun-themed bot in the eye, "Rude! He was too shy to even talk to me the first three weeks I started working in the Daycare!"

"He won't admit to it but it's because he thought you were too pretty to talk to." Sun snickers. 

There's a bit of binary then, and as they bicker back and forth your gaze travels over to the window. What you see surprises you greatly. 

"Oh! It's snowing. First one of the season."

At this the binary stops. Sun whips to look outside, so fast that you almost lose your balance and have to break the hug, "Woah! Easy there."

But he's distracted, muttering a brief apology before hurrying over to the window. Once there, he presses both hands and his faceplate to the glass, just staring. 

When he doesn't say anything, you speak up, "Um, you good bud?"

"I've never seen snow in person before." His voice is soft, utterly enthralled, "It's, it's so, calm."

You walk over to stand beside him, watching as well, "Yeah. It is."

You check the forecast and whistle, "Wow, they're calling for a foot. Good thing we went to the store when we did. Won't be leaving home anytime soon."

"What?" That snaps him out of his daze, a bit of panic evident in his tone. 

You shrug, "Well, the roads will be covered, and it'll take a bit before anyone clears ours for sure. No big deal, just means I don't have to worry about work for a day or so."

He relaxes, "Oh, good. That means more time you can spend with us instead!"

"Exactly,"—you grin—"Tell you what, we'll go out in a couple hours and build a snowman or something, that'll be fun." 

There's no way this can go wrong, you tell yourself. It's just frozen water. Nope, no way. This'll be perfect. 

And so, after a few hours past, you bundle up and head outside. 

Sun of course had no need to worry about the cold, but there was the concern of water in his system, so he was dressed in a coat and scarf as well. 

It's still snowing as you exit your house, but not to the point it was uncomfortable. Just a soft, gentle snowfall. 

"Alright! Let's get to work," You bend down and start collecting snow, finding that it packs easily. Perfect, this is going exactly as planned—

You realize Sun's not standing beside you. 

Looking up, you find he's still standing in the doorway, half in, half out. Probably driving up your electricity bill while he's at it. 

But, based on the apprehension present in his body, any annoyance you might have stays buried away. 

You stop forming your snowman, only a small ball in your hand, "Is everything alright?"

"Just fine!" He calls over to you, but shrinks back inside more when a snowflake hits his face. 

You frown, and he seems to notice. 

He chuckles quietly. "Though, I suppose it's a little intimidating, as silly as that sounds."

You smile then, but inside your heart is twisting at the adorableness of the eight foot tall robot being afraid of snow. 

There was two ways you could remedy this. One being a much gentler and smoother approach than the other. 

Your brain decided on the violent option. 

On instinct, you launch the snowball in your hand at him, meaning to playfully hit his jacket. But you'd underestimated your throwing capacity. 

To your horror, it flies rapidly at the bot, landing square in the middle of his faceplate. Your eyes widen, hand coming up to your mouth. 

Immediately you're apologizing, "Oh my gosh, Sun I'm so sorry I promise I didn't mean to—"

"What. Was that."

Confusion mixes with panic, "I—a snowball? You know, like a snowball fight? But really are you okay?"

His hand raises and in one swoop, clears off his face. Then, he bends down, scoops up a pile a snow, forming a ball in his hand. 

*Poof!*

You look down, and sure enough, the remains of his snowball are on your chest. You look back up again and see he's already making another. 

You start to smile, and when he glances back to you, eyes upturned crescents, you realize that he's not upset. 

"I suggest you start gathering an arsenal, Starshine. Because I will not be holding back."

Your smile bleeds into a grin, and you instantly get to work. Before you can finish forming your return projectile, he's hitting you with another, and another. 

As it would turn out, the Daycare Attendant would be a skilled fighter when it came to snow. You didn't stand a chance.

Sun was quicker, had better aim, and better agility than you in any shape or form. By the time you called it quits, after literal hours of going back and forth, you were covered head to toe. And cold. So very cold. 

But, it was worth it. Witnessing the pure, unbridled joy he displayed as he threw volley after volley at you. Laughter near diabolical as he dominated the field over you. That was worth any amount of chill to you. 

Besides, at the end, when you bitterly admitted defeat, you'd been rewarded for your efforts, handsomely you might add. 

When attempting another throw at Sun—who was quickly getting closer—you trip, falling back into the snow. At the same time, your hit him with your weak attempt at a snowball, but he's so concerned about you it dazes him, causing him to stumble and fall as well. 

He catches himself before landing on you, hands planted on either side of your head, eyes wide. 

"Hi,"—you breathe out—"Funny seeing you here."

"Quite the coincidence."

You stare at each other for a moment. 

"Alright, I give up." You put your hands up between the two of you. "You and your freakishly good aim win."

He laughs. "Your effort was valiant, Sunbeam, but unfortunately for you, it simply wasn't enough."

You huff, but it doesn't hide your smile. 

"However, for being a noble competitor, and succeeding gracefully, you deserve a reward."

Before you can question what he means, Sun's leant down and placed his smile to your lips. Pulling away a moment later.

You nod, more to yourself. "Well that might've actually been worth it—"

A snowball is dropped onto your chest, disintegrating with little fanfare. 

You blink, then narrow your eyes up at the Attendant. "That's a dirty trick. One I won't be falling for again."

But yet, sometime later, after time to reheat and a bit of dinner, you find yourself back outside in the dark with the former naptime attendant.

You're prepared for this round though and—whether he lets you or not—you defeat him in this battle. 

Fully of adrenaline from your victory, you pull him in a half-hug and tumble to the ground together, this time however, you're the one on top. 

"Does this mean I get a kiss now?" Moon asks with a chuckle. 

You smirk, head held high, "I suppose. It's only fair, after all."

You bend your neck down, kissing him once. As you pull back, you're shocked to feel a bit of snow land on your head and neck. 

You shake your head, snow flying and make a noise, reaching out for more of the stuff to pile on Moon's faceplate. His snickering only drives your desire to get revenge, the two of you looking like idiots as you fling snow at each other while lying on the ground. 

You end up with a runny nose the next day, and a scolding from Sun, but as you sip on hot chocolate and cuddle on the couch with the—still slightly—displeased animatronic, you'd argue that it was worth it. 

Definitely worth it.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

And another done! Thank you to @deviouscrackers for the request. Finding out you've never gotten to have a snowball fight made this personal /j hope I was able to capture it for you :)

If you'd like to request, you have until 12/13 OR until all slots are filled, currently 11 of 31 are taken! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

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[stitchthesewords]

I'm gonna upload this to ao3 later but I wanted to post this now before its too late! @eydilily happy birthday I wrote some Tangtho based on the art you posted. Warning for smoking and Redstone being treated like an addictive substance.

Redstone buzzed. It was important to know that. Redstone buzzed and when you were surrounded by it for hours on end, it seemed like your head never stopped buzzing. Like somehow the buzzing could form words that would cure all your woes with your latest project. Like they whispered exactly what you needed to do to get the right torch to turn on. Tango was constantly surrounded by redstone.

Sure, it was healthy necessarily, but the server was encompassed by people who didn’t know when to quit working on their projects. Tango wasn’t even the worst of it – Decked Out 2 notwithstanding. But, to be fair, Tango’s new big project was all redstone.

Minecart rails didn’t buzz in the same way! They didn’t buzz at all – which is what Tango told himself when he was down in the bowels of his binary system. Decked Out 2 was loud; this was quiet. This was peaceful, even. Sure, he was still troubleshooting and running into problems every five minutes but it wasn’t like he was down there for days on end. Staring at an observer line as it blinked but didn’t go off correctly for the thousandth time.

Color him shocked when he noticed the fire on his head died down to embers and his back ached in a familiar way. Okay. Okay maybe he needed to move, get some fresh air. See his neighbors. Maybe he had mail!

No mail was to be found but that was fine. It gave him an excuse to stretch his legs beyond the confines of his factory. A quick look at his communicator told him Etho was online and who better to go see – easily within walking distance, a redstone buddy he could complain to. It was the perfect solution. His tail flicked side to side as he thought about just what to say to his good friend. Fire reignited on his head and he even found himself almost buzzing. Just like redstone.

Etho was just…nice to talk to. Different from Impulse or Zed when he wanted to troubleshoot, different from Skizz to hang out with. Something quiet, contemplative. Calm in a way Tango could never hope to be. He liked that about Etho.

His tail sparked as it flicked around when he saw his neighbor outside, working on his landscaping. Perfect! Tango was worried he might be buried in Frogger or something and he’d have to be the one doing the redstone retrievafication. Retrievifying. Whatever. He waved his own clawed hand at himself.

Etho was absorbed in his landscaping, but there was a way to his movements where it was clear he knew someone was watching. Every move of his hands was deliberate, and when he stood up from the dirt, he half turned to smile at Tango.

“That was you! How’s it going buddy?”

Tango grinned. The two of them met somewhere in the middle of Etho’s front yard and exchanged a hug, where Etho visibly scrunched his face under his mask. “You smell like redstone.”

“You act like that’s a bad scent! Ead de Perfume de Tango or however it’s said. If I don’t smell like redstone, that’s when we have a problem.” His sharp teeth glinted in his grin as Etho rolled his eyes and waved Tango inside.

“So, I’m where you decided to take your break?” Etho held the door open for Tango, dodging his sparking tail as he walked past. Tango’s fire didn’t really hurt; it was warm, it produced heat, but it was more like extra voluminous hair. Made of fire. Still, the instinct to didge fire still hadn’t really left the hermits senses.

Etho had his own reasons to be nervous around fire.

“Who better to hang out with than my good buddy good neighbor Etho, huh?” Tango propped himself up on a block, crouched over so he was eye level with Etho and leaning his chin on his hands for balance. “Your house is coming together now that you finished Frogger. Could you imagine if I built a little home after Decked Out?”

Tango laughed a little and Etho’s eyes held a fondness. “You lived in Decked Out – and besides, Frogger is not nearly the same size of a game.” He smacked Tango on the shoulder and laughed as he knocked tango off his feet and spilling onto the floor in a heap of Blazeborn glory. He still offered Tango a hand, pulling him up with enough force he pulled Tango right to his chest. Tango’s hair ignited into an inferno. Etho made a sputtering noise, mouth full of his firehair.

“Sorry.” Tango skittered back, looking anywhere but Etho’s face. He could hear the little, too knowing chuckle pass Etho’s lips and that made him pout, cross his arms. Stomp his foot even a little.

“You are adorable when you pout,” Etho said. He didn’t let it hang in the air for long, walking past Tango towards his back door. “So are you here to troubleshoot the factory or just hang out?”

There was one long glance cast over his shoulder that had Tango scurrying after him in the wake of it, hair dying down back to its normal warm blaze but slowly. Ever since Decked Out 2, but probably before if Tango thought about it too hard, Etho’s voice made him blush. Maybe it was the first Decked Out that did him in. Maybe he’d always been done in.

“Hang out, I suppose. You’ve got a nice little garden, everyone is telling me I need to touch grass. Seems like a win win.” Tango followed Etho without really watching where Etho led them, but soon enough he was greeted to the sounds of the outdoors and the sights of Etho’s landscaping.

It was peaceful in a way a steampunk factory was not and Tango almost felt bad for dotting Etho’s neighborhood with it. Almost. He stretched, feeling his shoulders creak and then pop. Etho leaned on his fence, almost like taking a seat on it but not quite, gaze up towards the roof.

“I need to be able to see the clouds from here, I think. Roof is too solid.,” He said, turning to look at Tango. “Wouldn’t it be nice. Smell the dirt, see the clouds. Get some sun. I feel like everyone is always complaining we both need to do that.”

Tango hung on to Etho’s every word, nodding his head and leaning on his head. “At least you get a nice, unobstructed view of this lake you built,” he said. Etho agreed.

There was a silence, nature playing out its own theater for the two of them to enjoy in each other’s company. Tango spent plenty of time with the hermits this season – at least he felt like he did. People were constantly coming by the factory, he was playing Frogger occasionally. He raided bastions with Skizz and Impulse. He teased Scar. But for the first time he realized he’d missed the company that Decked Out 2 had. Getting a kiss on the forehead for good luck. Sitting in the lobby holding someone’s hand. Everyone sleeping piled together so they could get right back to it in the morning.

Tango’s ears flicked, slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something. What that something might be he wasn’t sure. Every season it was like the hermits had to work their way back up to admitting they missed each other, to sharing kisses and beds again. It felt like they’d only just gotten there in season 9 and now Tango was some kid to scared to admit he had a crush again. He closed his mouth. He opened it again, trying to work around it, when Etho cleared his throat.

He didn’t actually say anything, but the noise threw Tango off as he dug around in his pockets. Tango’s attention was transfixed when he produced two redstone torches and fidgeted with them for a moment. “Do you want one?”

Tango reached over and plucked one from his hand. They were...it was hard to explain. Redstone buzzed, yes, but it could also vaporize. Being surrounded by powered redstone meant you were breathing in time bits of vaporized redstone. Sure it wasn’t good for you, but it was another danger of being a redstoner.

What didn’t help is they often sought it out on their own.

Tango placed the torch in his mouth. It needed to be close to your face if there was only one, something that was just there to dull the itch to get back a redstone project. Etho held his own in his mouth, hand cupped around his face to hide it from view. Like he was embarrassed by it.

Tango felt that need for closeness again and stood up, going to be beside Etho. There was a gentle, bubbling water sound from the lake just before. The rustle of wind. Etho’s...beautiful and scarred face. Without a word, Tango found himself reaching out to cup Etho’s face in his own hand instead.

There was maybe more of a mischievous grin as he pressed the two redstone torches together. Redstone flew off in little sparks, a small cloud of faint red they really only saw because they knew what to look for. Etho chuckled.

There was a moment longer before Tango stood back a bit and, holding the torch in his teeth managed a ‘thank you’ that was...probably coherent. It made Etho chuckle again, a delightful sound that warmed Tango’s whole chest. He took the torch into his hand and Tango’s knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss there.

Redstone buzzed. So did the feeling of companionship.