#now does all of it actually make sense? eh

[pseudonymousposting]

Just use the word from before. You don't really need to worry about having a different word for everything unless the difference serves a purpose.

If your story is first person or primarily follows a specific POV or is told by a specific narrator, wouldn't it make sense that the storyteller is not a walking dictionary?

When people speak, they tend to have patterns anyway, and you don't notice them unless you're looking for it. I can refer to Hbomberguy's bit in his plagiarism video where he mentions that an AI asked to write a segment in his style uses the words, "buckle up." This points to how he uses that phrase often.

He jokes that this is because he's bad at writing. I beg to differ. The consistent use is really fucking good, actually, and I hope he doesn't correct for it in the future.

The pattern, when used specifically by him, has certain implications that will prompt a fan of his videos to notice when he is making a salient point integral to the theme he is conveying throughout the entire video. You also know that the example he is about to use is probably pretty goddamn funny, or notable, or egregious. Maybe you noticed that before. Maybe. If you've watched all of his videos, like twice each, at least.

If you're a fan of Dimension 20, it's quite likely you know all the words Brennan Lee Mulligan uses ALL the time.

Rad

INcredible

Hell yeah

All are little communicators from him as a DM. They're used so often, even casual watchers meme about it. Also Matt Mercer saying "how do you want to do this." Also make note, if Brennan Lee Mulligan starts monologuing with a question, brace yourself.

The use of these common, consistent, repetitive phrases actually communicates more. It would be ridiculous if Brennan Lee Mulligan got shy about using the same term and clumsily said "inferno affirmative," or something. Unless he was purposely doing it as a clunky bit just for laughs, and even then, doing it unprompted would just get a blank stare at this point. The repetition has a benefit, not a deficit.

Your peerless vocabulary is not the most important component of your craft. Your story is. Care less about finding a million different words to say the same thing, and focus more on saying what you need to say. Story good, not word good.

When people read a story, they might say "the plot was well constructed." Or, "the suspense kept me on my seat." Or, "I laughed so hard."

You know what they won't say? "There's was a nice diversity of words there. The writer did a good job of making sure they didn't use a word twice on a given page." I'd argue that if that's what a reader notices, the writer failed to craft a good story.

Complimenting a person on their extensive vocabulary is more a thing an adult does for a 'gifted' child. It's better to write an excellent narrative at a 3rd grade reading level than to write a bad story at a collegiate level.

Hell, it's better to write a good story at a 3rd grade level than it is to even write an amazing story at a collegiate level. You're communicating. Make sure you are doing so effectively first and foremost. Everything else is just fluff.

This falls in line with the thing where people will try to cap off quotes with unnecessary modifiers where "said" does just fine and is almost invisible. Y'know, the ol' "'snape!' Slughorn ejaculated." Why say many words when few words do trick, eh?

Not to say finding the right synonym isn't useful. Sometimes, a synonym carries specific implications or a slightly different meaning more suited to that particular use case. In this case, that synonym might actually be a better fit to serve your purpose.

Alternatively, it's possible the character could be more likely to use that word over another for any particular reason. It can speak to who they are in a way that can help you avoid a little exposition here and there. Hell, using outdated terms might do the same.

For example, a now deceased man who was an instructor before I flunked out of college, who was nearly 90 years old. I think he sometimes used stories from his career to try and provide a point without giving answers.

He started one such story with "there was this guy I worked with a long time ago. He was uh ambidextrous, yknow what I mean? Uhh, he was a switch-hitter or a uhh..a bisexual..."

I'm not gonna lie, I was fucking awestruck at the term "switch-hitter," referencing bisexuality. That term instantly made me a patriot for about two weeks. I'd never heard anything more apple-pie, bald eagle with a single tear, and inside the tear, you can see the twin towers, Ole Glory waving proudly in the background with fireworks bursting over the top motherfuckin AMERICA than "switch-hitter" meaning "bisexual" holy shit.

Anyway, shortening things, I flunked out, met my abuser, and fled town because I just couldn't live in the same town as them anymore. He called to check on me.

He told me he keyed in that something was wrong and felt the need to check in. He believed my story. He said a lot that helped me with my recovery.

Part of my story involved the fact that I'm trans, as queer relationship dynamics were, like, central to the abuse. Interestingly, unlike many people in their 40s, 50s, and 60s, this man pushing his 90s understood every single damn word of what I was saying.

I bring up this story because of the synonyms he uses and how we can think about their use in context. My mind trails back to the term "switch hitter," a 1960s slang term for bisexual used right after "Ambidextrous," an earlier term. Of course, the man immediately understood all this queer mumbo-jumbo I was saying and didn't flinch even a little about my being trans.

However, its use from a 90-year-old right after "ambidextrous" tells an entirely different story. It drops a hint that this guy may have been, at the very least, accepting of people who were involved in the gay rights movement during the time.

Desperately seeking a synonym for "bisexual" might yield you to terms which are today potentially offensive or harmful, but before the 1970s were descriptors that bisexuals would sometimes use to describe themselves. So, depending on who uses that term, it could be harmful, or it could be someone who fought against that harm long before that term ever had potential negative implications.

Also, note how many times I just said, "bisexual?" Did it feel repetitive? Probably not.

If the use of the synonym serves no purpose other than feeling like you need to use a different word, consider, "Why am I really looking for a synonym, here?" If it doesn't serve a specific purpose, then feel free to just use whatever word makes sense. If it matters for one reason or another, use that. Just use what works. This ain't a vocabulary test. You don't need to impress your middle school English teacher anymore. You're free.

[kirkwallsbane]

that one post the other day asked about Lavellan's family members and reminded me that I had concepts of rewriting the 'Protect Clan Lavellan' war table missions as an actual playable quest, especially one in my world where my companion OC Enasel'an Lavellan is involved

Anyway i've since written 6 pages of notes on how the quest would work and how Enasel'an specifically as a companion ties into it

[sharlmbracta]

so maybe the point of living is of the one reason to live instead of the other reasons not to

[radiance1]

Danny has been reincarnated.

Which was an odd thing to realize, it wasn't even a slow one he just... snapped into it one day. One moment he was staring at a wall out of boredom the next, well, he was staring for an entirely different reason.

It was a task for his now young -he thinks around three years old?- mind to work its way through the memories, but it wasn't like he had much else to do honestly. So, what does he know?

His name is Danny, like, his actual name and not just a moniker. He was once a halfa and he already knows he's going to be missing invisibility and intangibility. He, well, died. For like, a second time which actually makes sense because reincarnation-

Anyways.

He was a clone of two people from this thing called the Justice League which, weird name but probably some government or activist group. Wonder Woman and Superman. Which were pretty weird names to name your kids but eh.

He doesn't really remember much besides that from this life, or the one from before but he's an adult! He'll figure things out once he gets out of this containment tube thing.

Did he mention he was in a test tube? He's a tube baby now. He thinks? Or maybe it's more like he's being contained.

Whatever.

So he breaks out. Thank you apparent superstrength that he has no idea why he has but he's not going to complain! He then wandered around all of the other test tubes, able to remember just enough of English to see that yea, they're dead.

He probably was too, before he had memories zapped into him. Or a vegetable.

He then finds this really big container, checks it out, then opens it because the clone inside isn't dead!

'Project Match' it said. He'll just call him Match.

Was he thanked for helping him? Nope. You would think that he would be thanked or at least somewhat respected for saving this guy but nope!

He was, quite literally, held up by his leg and dangled in the air. Who dangles a three-year-old?! Well, he was technically and adult but still! The next few things were a blur but after pulling off the old Fenton charm he found him and Match outside as he tried to stop him from attacking random people.

Luckily the charms and privilege of the youngest (he's assuming he's the youngest, because he's physically three) was more than enough to get through to him. Sure, the guy couldn't form words, really aggressive for literally no reason, really weird but also absolutely cool looking eyes. But he worked around the first issue by developing their own personal language from like grunts and stuff, the second he once again used his youngest privilege to boss him around and the third a pair of sunglasses easily fixed.

He just had to steer Match clear of those random S crest mark thingies. Which was a weird thing to hate but hey, he's not there to judge.

[chaoticwriting]

THE FATHER 2

Part 1

After the last incident, Danny totally expects the public to be afraid of him or even persecute him for killing the Joker. He did kill in front of a live stream after all. What he doesn't expect is the public giving their full support to him. Almost every single news media paints him in a good light, saying he is just protecting his children and bringing up all his previous charity.

However, there is one big problem Danny doesn't foresee. Danny doesn't even know about the problem because his children are the one that are suffering from it.

-Gotham Academy-

Emma: *Slamming her phone on the table* For the love of god, stop making thirst trap of my dad. He is too old for some of you (He is 20).

Becky: I know right. This is like the sixth thirst trap video that I see of dad.

Carl: I hate this so much. My crush just accepted my confession but on the condition I will introduce her to dad.

Larry: And you agree?

Carl: What? No! Of course not.

Emma: Ugghhh, this is the worst. Maybe we should ask Uncle Tucker to remove all of Dad's thirst trap online. I'm so done with this.

Larry: I don't know. This is the first time girls decide to talk to me voluntarily. I really am enjoying this attention.

Carl: You're happy now until one of the girls decides to confess to you and just as you thought because she likes you, it is because she has a crush on dad.

Larry: I know you just experienced it but you don't need to curse me like that.

Carl: Hmph.

Larry: Hey, has anyone seen Colin? I haven't seen him since last night.

Becky: *Whispersing* Don't you hear? Colin got shot after he went to patrol the night before yesterday. Dad grounds him cause he tries to sneak out injured last night.

Carl: Oof. Colin really doesn't learn does he? Dad has super sense. He literally can't sneak out.

Larry: Yeah. I don't even know why he wants to be a vigilante so much. I guess he is just kind of something. Couldn't be me to be honest.

Emma: Of course he is not like you. You are not even capable of waking up by yourself in the morning.

*Riiiinngggg*

Becky: Well that is our break then. Let's go to class.

Larry: Eh, it's not like Miss Brown gonna scold me if I am a little late anyway. She has been trying to get Dad's number from me for a while now.

Carl: Does dad even have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Hell, a partner? I never saw him gone on a date once so far.

Emma: Chances are probably super low. Like to say he is dense is an understatement. A woman tried to flirt with him once but he just replied to all the flirting with the straightest face possible.

The rest: *Giggles*

-Gotham Libraries-

Contrary to what his kids have been believing in, he actually knows when someone is flirting with him. It's just that he takes note from the dense anime protagonist and uses it in daily life whenever he is not interested in a person flirting with him. Which is like daily.

But here is the problem. He can respond to a flirt very easily. He learns a lot of that from when he was dating Sam. But he never actually flirts with someone first. And he isn't sure just how to approach the problem.

Having decided that he has stayed long enough, Danny picks a random book from the space section and brings it to the checkout table.

Danny: Hey Barbara.

Barbara: Hey Danny. Borrowing another book?

Danny: Yeah. I just finished the previous one last night. It is a good book. Thanks for the recommendation.

Barbara: You're welcome. How's the kids doing? Still causing trouble for you?

Danny: It's the same shenanigans everyday. Going to lectures, doing paperwork, taking care of the kids. What about you?

Barbara: It's the same with me. Barely any people come to the library these days. Usually it's only either you or my friends.

Danny: Oh. Errmm, Barbara.

Barbara: Yes?

Danny: Would you be free this weekend?

Barbara: Are you asking me on a date?

Danny: Depends. If it is, what would you say?

Barbara: Hmmm, let me think.

Danny fidgets as Barbara taps her finger on the counter. Barbara loves to tease Danny since he is so cute when he is nervous.

Barbara: I think I am free this weekend. So I am available for a date.

Danny's face beams a smile as he hears that.

Danny: So is that a yes?

Barbara: What do you think, big guy?

Danny: Then I will come pick you up at your apartment then?

Barbara: Come pick me up at my dad's house. I will be ready at 5.

Danny: Okay. Have a good day.

Barbara: You too.

Danny then walks out of the library, skipping a little. He has been gathering courage to ask Barbara out on a date for a long time now. They first met when Danny first borrowed a book from a library. It's nothing crazy. Just interaction between two people. But after meeting up a few more times, Danny realizes that he might have a crush on her. After getting convinced by Tucker and Sam, Danny decided that today is the day he asks her out. And he succeeded.

Now, it is just to make sure that the date goes well.

-Clocktower-

Batman: That's it for tonight. Everyone returns back to the cave.

Black Bat/Spoiler/Red Robin: Roger.

Oracle: Hey, B. Can I have a day off this weekend?

Batman: Why?

Oracle: I have a date that night.

Spoiler: You are dating someone?

Oracle: It's not official yet. He only just asks me out on a date this morning.

Batman: Yes. Keep your comms up. In case a breakout happens your way.

Oracle: Okay.

Red Robin: Who are you going on a date with?

Oracle: Danny.

Spoiler: As in that Danny?

Oracle: Yes.

Spoiler: Oh wow! You work fast. How do you know him?

Oracle: He always comes to the library to borrow books. I met him long before he became famous so it is not so hard to talk with him.

Black Bat: Is he nice?

Oracle: He is very nice. It's very hard to even make him mad. The only time I remember him being in a slightly bad mood is at Christmas. He doesn't like it apparently. Wait, Hood is entering the line.

Red Hood: Oracle, you betray me!

Oracle: Tough luck loser. How do you know anyway?

Red Robin: I told him just now.

Red Hood: Yeah! You dare ask him out on a date first before me? I will remember this.

Oracle: He is the one that actually asks me out. We are going on an official date this weekend. I'll take a very nice picture of us together so that you can see from afar.

Red Hood: But your status still isn't official yet. I still have a chance.

Oracle: Over my dead body.

Red Hood: Oh, I will.

Spoiler: Errr, guys. What is happening?

Red Robin: They have a bet on who will get to date Danny first. Apparently Hood gets a massive crush on this guy after what happens in the livestream. Oracle gets the news and they quarrel a little bit. After that I propose a competition between the two.

Spoiler: But both of you don't know that Oracle is already close with Danny. Girl, that's dirty.

Oracle: All is fair in love and war.

Batman: What is his background?

Red Robin: As far as I can see, he is pretty clean. There is even what I suspect some vigilante works that he might have done because he is related to the disbandment of GIW that were supported by both his parents and his godfather. But after some digging into the old GIW files, there are traces of Danny and his friends helping the local ghost hero fighting either other ghosts or the agents themselves. There was also the unexplained money that he suddenly had early on in his career as CEO but so far, it doesn't seem like anything bad.

Robin: Hmmm.

Red Robin: What is it brat?

Robin: I feel like his face is very familiar.

Batman: Explain.

Robin: I need to confirm this with mother. But I am fairly certain that his ancestors have connections with the Al Ghul.

Red Robin: As in blood related?

Robin: No. But there is a book that mother finds about a man who has a very similar appearance to him. The book tells the tale of a kind immortal who spends his lives helping others while learning stuff from them.

Spoiler: A cult of assassins teach young children to be kind?

Robin: Shut it, Brown. I am not finished. The part of the story that interests me is the tale called The Beheader of Demon.

Spoiler: I take it back. That sounds like something a cult of assassins will teach young children.

Robin: The tale tells a story of the immortal meeting a demon who kills people just to find immortality. When the demon finds out that the immortal is well, immortal, he pursues the immortal, trying to kill him and forces the immortal to give away his immortality to him.

Red Robin: What happened next?

Robin: The Demon's head is severed and the Demon's subordinates run away bringing the Demon's body to the pool of revival.

Spoiler: So is this a true story?

Robin: Mother confirms it is a true story. I do not know whether he is a true immortal or not. However, I do know that his ancestors or maybe even him, is good enough to beat grandfather even if he has backup.

Red Hood: What about the other tales?

Robin: There is nothing of note. Some mention of the immortal's supernatural ability, like summoning the dead or the ability to move mountains and divert rivers.

Red Robin: That is not something to take note of?

Robin: No. Because in those stories, the only consistent thing about him is that he is kind. Never harm someone unless provoked.

Batman: Compile all the tales into a file. Red Robin, lists out all the possible powers of target.

Oracle: Oh wow. My date is now a target. How could this get better?

Red Hood: If he is really dangerous, I volunteer to stalk monitor them while they are on the date.

Oracle & Batman: No!

Red Hood: Tsk! Party pooper.

Batman: Red Robin and Spoiler, follow them. Priority is keeping Oracle safe.

Red Robin & Spoiler: *High five* Let's go.

Oracle: Ugghhh, you all better don't mess with my date. Or else I'll make sure you regret it.

Part 3

[nonranghaes]

heads up: reader wears glasses and can't see SHIT.

joshua prides himself on being a gentleman to you. he's always been respectful of your boundaries, he's careful with his words when he knows you're having a rough time, and he always walks you to your door after every date just to make sure you get inside safely. he's a gentleman, even though you've heard his witty comments and seen how playful he can be... and heard from his friends about the pranks he's pulled on them. a gentleman with a sense of humor, you'll say.

so when he pulls out the chair next to you while you're doing graduate school work, already smiling like he has a plan, you don't know what to expect. you glance up at him over the rims of your glasses, giving him a little smile and a 'hey,' before you go back to your work.

"may i?"

again, you look up, curious of the vague request. he reaches forward, fingers careful as they come to the sides of your glasses. he's just as careful when he slowly pulls them off, mindful to not accidentally poke you in the eye in the process before he turns them around and puts them on. "how do i--"

and then he stops. he squints at you. you fight back a smile as you watch him, eternally thankful that he's sitting close enough that you can see the horror on his face (albeit a little blurry--there's a reason why you have to hold things so close to your face if you misplace your glasses, after all).

"oh my god," his voice is softer now, and he blinks at you a few times, "how do you see anything?"

you close your textbook. you can finish these notes later: you wouldn't have invited him to join you if you couldn't. "well," you rest your head in your hand, "i wear glasses for that."

joshua doesn't take them off yet. he slides them down his nose a little so that he can look at you, and he's a little too cute when he does it. "yeah," he's smiling, a tinge of laughter coloring his voice, "you look cute in them." he licks his lips a little as he quickly debates whether he should go through with the initial plan. "... do i?"

"eh." you don't bother fighting back your smile. "they're not your style."

"what, so i'm not a sexy librarian?" he grins as he leans in, his fingers under your chin to draw you in a little, "or, i don't know--a hot professor? i think i could pull it off."

you just close the distance between the two of you for a quick kiss. "ask me when i can actually see you again."

the mischievous glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely will. but he keeps your glasses for a moment longer, just long enough to take a picture with you. you pretend not to notice when it becomes his new lockscreen later.

[space-blue]

Fixing Vander and Silco's story (a bit)

Using canon events! Sadly we can't actually fix it, but I hope this makes it a little better. I make my own edit proposal at the end that changes the bar scene to include Felicia without issues.

They meet in the mines, and meet Felicia and her partner there too. They end up together somehow (I think we can put the brotherly allegations to rest now, eh?) and one of them (or both) inherit/buy a bar.

Although Vander is the barman, there is no indication Silco doesn't own or co-own the place. After all he comes to take it eventually as his own, and he's still not bartending. That's just not his gig.

It's implied that Vander and Silco made it, as in, got away from the mines, while Felicia clearly didn't, as she comes home to both her daughters with mining gear and gloves.

So despite Vander and Silco building the Lanes together, the mines aren't closed, and the work "isn't done".

Felicia says they've done it, and Vander is happy to celebrate their success. Meanwhile, Silco has his "NoZ" Nation of Zaun book in which he's scribbling, still planning.

Vander's first memory that Viktor sees even has Silco holding that book.

Later, in season 1 episode 3, we see that Vander tells Silco that he had Vander's respect, the Lanes' respect, but it "was never enough".

There's also this fakeout moment in the memory at the bar, where Vander says they're done, and Silco replies with "You're gravely mistaken". And I thought he was going to go all zealous and say "We'll only be done when we have the Nation of Zaun", but no, he claims he's Bozo 1.

And imo, he is probably right. He calls out Vander in act 1 saying "I trusted you and you betrayed me", and Vander does not contest this. It makes the most in character sense as well that Silco is the brains of the operation while Vander is the brawn.

And we can conclude that Silco's goals were always "bigger" and that the Lanes were indeed not enough.

Years pass, during which we can only assume Silco keeps building his Nation of Zaun and Vander happily bartends and manages the Lanes with Silco. Felicia keeps working the mines and raises Vi, then Powder.

Vi is at least 11, if not more, by the time she's on the bridge. This is just consistent with her model, but also to make her 18+ by the time of act 2.

It's a long ass time for Vander and Silco to be running a bar and the Lanes together. Even assuming Vi is more 8 or 9yo, Vander and Silco spend all that time being together.

Sadly, their models aren't aged very well.

We are also forced here to make some unfortunate assumptions.

It's not a problem, IMO, for Silco to know Felicia and be close to her. It's a problem for him to not be close to Vi and Powder too. Close enough to recognise them at least.

It's easy to say, "Well, Felicia went back to the mines and raised her kids and wasn't super involved with Vander and Silco, who lived much higher up in their bar." Adult friendships and all that.

IT MAKES SENSE, but then it makes zero sense that Vander would murder his life's partner, a man he's been with 10 years at MINIMUM (fuck knows how long they were together while in the mines), over the death of a friend in a revolt they allegedly BOTH participated in.

The memories also imply that Silco is responsible somehow, for throwing a molotov. And yet the molotov doesn't kill the enforcer.

But Vander is shown in the opening of Act 1 season 1 pummeling one to death himself, long after the rest of the revolt has died down. That enforcer wasn't getting back up lol

So whatever we pick, because the writers made Felicia and Silco close, they create a plot hole either way.

Either Vander is whacko and murders his husband over a dead friend at a revolt he set up (since he repeatedly apologises for what he did, and claims he "lost his head after she died" and had that guilt on his hands too)

Or Silco and Vi and Powder spend ALL of season 1 acting like they don't know each other at all. Then Silco takes in Powder and somehow never comments on the fact he was friends with her mom.

Everything being triggered by Felicia's death also means that Vander's emotional thematic moment dropping the gauntlets after seeing what his violence led to is then followed up by a horrible attempted murder on the love of his life, which is... you know. Bad writing.

So I propose that they indeed drift apart. Silco knows of Felicia's kids, and they hangout a bit, but they aren't that close. She's busy mining and being a mom, and Silco is busy making the safe Zaun he promised to deliver.

The creation of that Zaun leads them to act out revolts and uprisings. Vander is happy to follow. He's angry, like he tells Vi. And this manifests in violence. Silco points his violence. It's how they create the Lanes and the moniker of Hound of the Underground. A hound usually has a master, after all.

Vander is Silco's hound, and I think, in Vander's mind this absolves him of some of the consequences of his actions.

So when his friend dies on the Bridge, even if they haven't been that close in a while, well, it's easy to put the blame on Silco.

Since we're following the new canon timeline... we'll have to have him go back with the girls, ready to turn a new leaf.

I think the best way here is to have him either dropping them at an orphanage, or back at their home (trusting Vi to look after Powder for a while) or with friends.

That way, Vi and Powder aren't immediately in Silco's legs back at the drop.

Then Vander and Silco take part in the "clean up" at the bridge. They go get bodies, and since they have no real estate in the fissures, they commit them to the sea (we have canon monsters in there, so I'm sure it all gets gobbled up).

That way, we explain why Vander is weirdly shaved, and why Silco and him are at in the Pilt: they just commited the bodies of the fallen to the waters.

There may have been many others, but Silco and Vander stay there, in the shallows, as they talk.

Vander is done. He doesn't want more of this. He thinks Silco went too far with pushing this one to the bridge. Piltover got defensive and they lost too many people.

Silco doesn't get it. Where he goes, so does Vander, but Vander is his own man, he decided to come too, and he killed enforcers too. Felicia's death is tragic, but as he later will tell Renni about the death of her son: at least she died fighting for the cause, and not some petty infighting, or worse, an accident at the shitty mines.

Vander, the Hound, is not only mad with grief, he refuses to carry the blame of his own actions. It's a character flaw and that's fine! The angry man channels that anger with violence, the only way he knows how.

Silco is probably shocked, and may not say the right things to calm Vander down.

Silco is under the assumption that Vander BELIEVES IN HIS DREAM. That he's a true believer of the Nation of Zaun, like Sevika turns out to be. A true believer would understand sacrifice. A true believer would understand too, that stopping now, after Felicia's death, would make THAT VERY DEATH POINTLESS.

So maybe he screams at Vander! What do you MEAN abandoning the fight? What do you mean, being content with the Lanes? How dare you? You'd make her sacrifice meaningless! You'd make Felicia die a pointless death!

And Vander would bellow that it's over. No more death. No more bloodshed. He rescued her kids from that bridge, and they don't deserve to die too, they don't deserve to see more death.

And Silco screams back that it's their job to create Zaun so these children won't have to see more death. Vander is just delaying the struggle.

And then, perhaps, Silco may even mock him. Say that Vander can't change like that. That he's not that sort of person, to just hang up his gauntlets and go peaceful. That Felicia's blood is on his hands too, and that the only way out is through more blood, more sacrifice.

It would be a horrible point to make, if then Vander truly loses it. Silco runs, and Vander's hound comes out, just grabbing Silco and trying to drown him.

It would be poetic, because then Vander goes home in shame. Gets his arm patched up, hides the scar under a brace, collects the kids and tries to pretend like HE CAN BE THAT MAN. Even though he surrendered his gauntlets and metaphorical violence, and tries to lean into the bartender chill persona, there's what he did to Silco.

And later he'll tell Vander "I'll show you what you really are". Because Silco knows that Vander's promises of being a peaceful good dad are flimsy at best.

Anyway, Vander goes home, and eventually the impact of what he's done really hits him. He's single now, and with kids, and the Lanes to run, and nobody knows where Silco is.

Vander slowly realises Silco was right about one thing. Just because Vander followed, doesn't mean he wasn't behind that event on the bridge. Becoming the solo leader of the Lanes has to have hammered that home for him. Suddenly so much responsibility thrust on him.

So Felicia's death was on him too, and his actions against Silco are the proof that he is indeed the sort of man Silco said he was. At any rate, surrendering violence as his first reaction to any trigger will take a lot of work.

He goes to their old hideout and leaves a letter for Silco.

In the happy AU, Silco finds it, and returns to Vander BEFORE ever meeting Singed. There is no glowing eye, no shimmer, and no cannery.

In our AU, Silco never finds the letter. He finds Singed instead. Starts helping him develop shimmer.

I've been thinking that since the goal of shimmer is a form of "keeping alive" and also "bringing back to life", then it's possible that Silco's glowing eye is a byproduct of shimmer experimentation.

And that the only way to keep it alive and function is more shimmer injections. It would otherwise be grey and dead like in the Nice AU.

So Singed is also a factor here. He gives our Silco a real way to deal scary violence to Piltover. And this changes our Silco. He's more radicalised, and more opposed to Vander, having discovered that Vander works with Grayson to keep Zaun under Piltover's boot (basically making sure the boot stays, but doesn't press down too hard).

Vander is, as always, the enforcer of the status quo.

And though this works for them timeline wise, it sadly doesn't change the fact that Silco should know who Vander's kids are.

Vi and Jinx can be excused for not recognising him, what with him being one of their mom's adult friends, and scarred. But Silco doesn't have that luxury. His great friend Felicia had two very distinctive kids, ONE OF WHICH VANDER FUCKING NAMED! And her death triggered his husband so badly he tried to kill Silco over it. If anything, Silco would be hyper-aware of Felicia's kids.

And no amount of alternate fix-its changes that. It's permanent damage to season 1's Silco.

I feel like we can fix Vander's side of things by inventing an entire scene at the Pilt as I did above, but we can't fix 10 years of knowing your friend's kids and then a lifetime of acting like you don't know them.

I think it also cheapens the found family aspect of both Vander and Silco's adoption. You're left to wonder if they took in the girls only because they were friends with the mom.

Silco's adoption of Jinx and co-dependence with her was great because it spoke of the similar shape of their traumas, and how unexpected their bond seemed.

But now it's redolent of friendly obligation. And lies.

How would I fix it by keeping Felicia in the picture?

I would fully remove Felicia's one-on-one with the boys. That night at the bar? It's a party. Young Sevika is here too!

Felicia and many others are there, all congratulating Vander and Silco over the creation of the Lanes. Eventually Silco tires of the social niceties and goes to write in his notebook at the bar. Or maybe there's a montage of the night as the crowds thin.

In the end, Silco is writing, and Vander is still socialising. He talks to 3 people--Felicia, her husband, and a random person. They thank him for all his work. They've done it! And the conditions in the mines are so much better now thanks to XYZ!

Vander is beaming, he's just so pleased. It's clear for him this is the end goal. Felicia asks him, pointing to Silco, if he's okay.

Vander laughs, says Silco is fine, but he's already got his head back in the clouds. You see, Silco doesn't just want the Lanes, he dreams of a free Nation of Zaun.

The other 2 laugh, but Felicia sobers up. She rubs her belly, thoughtful. Then she says "Sounds like a dream worth fighting for."

I don't think she even needs to say anything about being pregnant, but she could go on with something like "I'm expecting. A girl, I think. I know. And I would love if she could grow in a safe city. I'm so scared she'll have to live the way I did, growing up.'

And Vander smiles sadly and tells her, 'We've gotten this far, and we're not going back. We'll make Zaun safe for your kiddo, I promise you that.'

And that's it.

Vander knows OF Felicia. She is a community member. He knows her enough, maybe from Lanes meetings, that eventually he can recognise her children. But they're not friends, and SILCO definitely isn't friends.

And the disagreement after the bridge is fully about where to go from then on, and Vander deciding he wants to run the Lanes and keep them safe, that what they have now is good enough, while Silco wants "more".

That disagreement can turn nasty, and the fact Vander tried to drown Silco becomes a statement about how violent and temperamental he is as "The Hound of the Underground". Something he'll regret soon enough and spend the next few years working hard to try and change.

What do you think?

[arc-misadventures]

I don't know why, but I'm enjoying the thought of Coco and Jaune being bros.

99% Lesbian

Blake: Coco!

Yang: Hey, Coco!

Coco: Yes?

Blake: We need your help

Coco: My help? Well, first off: Stop wearing all black. Add more colour to you apparel; I recommend purples, golds, and perhaps some deep blues. I think those colours would really make you 'pop!' Otherwise you look like a poorly dressed goth girl hipster. And no, you do not look like a goth girl the way you are dressed, and most certainly a sexy goth girl.

Blake: That's not 1hat...

Yang: No. No, take notes you could use a make over.

Blake: Hey!

Yang: But, no this isn't fashion related!

Coco: It isn't? Then what the hell do you two want help with me, you utter fashion slobs!

Blake: Hey!

Yang: I know it's true that, Blake dresses like a slob!

Blake: Hey?!

Yang: But, does that include me too?

Coco: Only two people in this entire school have any sense of woman's fashion, and neither of them are you.

Yang: Who?!

Blake: Yeah, who?!

Coco: Jaune Arc.

Blake: Jaune?

Yang: Him, really?

Coco: He has seven sisters, he knows plenty about woman's fashion.

Blake: So you say...

Yang: Who's the other person?

Coco: Glynda Goodwitch.

BY: ...

Blake: I'm not going to argue against that.

Yang: She's drop dead gorgeous, what else do we need to say?

Coco: So, what do you need help with?

Yang: We need to help settle a bet.

Coco: A bet?

Yang: Yeah, Ruby said you weren't gay, and that you were in fact, bisexual. We called bullshit, she said it was true, so we made a bet on whether or, not you are actually gay.

Blake: So, are you bisexual?

Coco: No I'm not bisexual.

Blake: Ha!

Yang: I knew it!

Coco: But, I'm not... 100% a lesbian.

Blake: Eh?

Yang: Beg pardon?

Coco: I'm 99% lesbian, but I am 1%... straight...

Blake: You're 1% straight...?

Yang: So... you are bisexual?

Coco: No... I love woman 99% of the time. But, 1% of the time... I'm straight... exclusively for, Jaune...

BY: For, Jaune?!

Coco: For, Jaune.

Yang: How are you attracted to, Jaune? He's... he's...

Blake: He's, Jaune!

Yang: I was going to say a guy, but that's true.

Coco: Gods, does everyone have to pick on my, 'If I had to pick a dude?' He's a great guy, a bit of a goofball sure, and a dunce. But, he is a really nice guy once you get to know him.

Blake: And, because you know, Jaune so well he becomes the 1%?

Coco: Well, there's also the fact that he is the only person I can discuss fashion with; he has great taste, and has even convinced me to wear a helmet as part of my fashion assemble. I just started to enjoy being around with him. So the intrusive thought of us... 'mingling' just popped up. So, I'm 99% a lesbian, and 1% straight for, Jaune.

Blake: Oh, that makes sense. Somehow...?

Yang: So... did we win the bet?

Blake: We didn't bet anything, so we could call it a draw if we wanted to. Right?

Coco: I'd call it a dra...

Jaune: Coco!

Coco: Hey, Bunny Boy, what's up?

Blake: Bunny boy?

Jaune: I found another helmet you could wear! Only this time if completely covers your head, which of course would make it that it doesn't go with your current outfits design. But, that does mean you have to choreograph an entire wardrobe to fit the helmet. Of which, honestly sounds fun to do on it's on.

Coco: Oh-ho-ho~! Really now? Okay, show me this helmet you're so confident about?

Jaune: Tada~!

Coco: ...

Coco: Holy shit...

Jaune: You like it?

Coco: This is a old helmet, so I would have a more detailed lion head, and mane. The colours would definitely involve more gold, maroon, and crimsons.

Jaune: Red, and caramel browns, with complementary cream whites?

Coco: Oh that sounds perfect! Colours aside, what would this outfit entail?

Jaune: Boot's that are at least knee height...

Coco: High heels?

Jaune: Oh, but of course. Next should... Hmmm... Oh no...

Coco: What is it?

Jaune: Nora pulled a, Nora again. I'm sorry I gotta go. Shall we continued this discussion later?

Coco: No problem, Love. Have fun~!

Jaune: See you later, Mocha!

Coco: Hmmm... Should the face mask be a copy of my face, or should it be a generic face?

BY: ...

Coco: ...

Coco: What?

Yang: 'No problem, Love?'

Blake: You sure it's just 1%?

Coco: ...

Coco: Maybe... 10%...?

Yang: Coco's bisexual, but only for, Jaune.

Blake: Agreed.

Coco: ...

Coco: That's fair...

[goldencithaerias]

Unexpected Intervention

Bully!Miguel x Reader

tw: dirty talking, semi-public sex, fingering, p in v smut, enemies to lovers if you squint, mean miguel o’hara, soft miguel o’hara at the end

(author note: first off, this is my first miguel fic after a few weeks of being down bad for this man, second, this is PURE FILTHY SMUT. nothing hardcore and more focused on reader’s pov if anything tbh, but maybe it’s just me projecting. anyhow, enjoy.)

(smut under the cut)

It was supposed to be just a small break.

You were simply tired and wanted to take a breather from all of your classes. So, as any rational student would, you skipped fourth period to go up to the rooftop, hoping that some fresh air would help boost your mood.

Unfortunately for you, Miguel O’Hara, the bane of yours and pretty much everyone else’s existence, was also there, smoking weed on a Tuesday afternoon. He was the stereotypical mean jock that picks on others with a hot body to die for, the kind that makes people both want and fear. In other words, a hot bully.

And that’s how you find your skirt hiked up to your stomach, back pressed against his chiseled body as his two thick fingers pump in and out of your abused cunt. This has to be at least the 4th orgasm that he had pulled out of you, and just from his mere fingers alone. His lips were pressed against your ear, his other hand fondling your tits as he whispers the vilest of words that make you whimper.

“Needy slut, eh? So desperate for attention that you need to wear that tiny skirt everywhere you go, hm? Need the whole world to fuck your pussy out before you’re satisfied, isn’t that right?”

You could only respond in loud and desperate moans, body bouncing up and down on his fingers as your arm clings behind his neck, brain too fucked out to come up with anything actually cohesive. Your juices have covered his entire hand white by now, legs spread wide as the man you swore you despise with your entire being hitting that gummy spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back over and over again.

It took so many illegible pleas and mind-blowing orgasms for him to actually unzip his pants, ripping your skirt off and filling you up to the brim with his girthy cock after pressing you flat onto the dirty floor. Hell, you were pretty sure the door to the rooftop wasn’t locked, and that anyone could walk in any moment now, yet that didn’t stop him from fucking your senses out like a madman. His grip on your hips was so tight that you were sure there would be bruises afterward, but the thought only made the lewd noises that escaped your lips louder.

This is it, you decided; Miguel O’Hara has ruined your experience with any other man from now on, as you were sure no other can ever fill you up as good as he does. You made sure to memorize each and every vein of his cock, taking note of how thick and warm his dick felt around your walls as you took him in as the good girl you were; his words, not yours, and tucking it in the deep corner of your brain for safekeeping.

You both were there until half an hour after fourth period ended, panting and out of breath from the intense sex that left you completely brain fucked. Miguel takes in your form, inspecting how your pretty eyes glaze over with so much bliss and with drool rolling down the corner of your mouth. All because of him, the person who has been bothering you ever since the beginning of time, the one you had cursed out so many times that landed you in enough after-school detention to last at least half the school year. He chuckled at that, chest swelling with pride as he picked up your helpless form in his arms, pulling your panties up and covering your lower half with his jacket like the gentleman he was. You nuzzled your head into his chest, which earned you a huff from Miguel, who then leaned down to you while halfway through the door.

“Why don’t we finish this at my place, muñeca? Gotta make up for your ruined skirt, after all.”

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 8, A moment of bliss

Masterlist Word count: 3.5 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Hi everyone. Enjoy Sylus being a switch/bottom for this one. He won't be for every chapter, but he's desperate and you've been waiting for this sooooo... I do want to remind everyone that this is my first time writing a smutty story. I hope it makes sense. <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'And then he slept over,' you tell Zayne over the phone and quickly add, 'we just cuddled. It was nice.' He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he disapproves. Just wait, he'll tell you that you shouldn't invite men you don't know over to your apartment. Especially not types like Sylus. 

'That's nice. He deserves something good in his life.' "What?!" 'Are you still there?' You probably stayed silent with your jaw on the floor a little too long. Maybe you shouldn't be too surprised. When you showed Zayne a picture of Sylus he looked physically pained, but not in a fearful way. It was empathetic. 

'Yes, yes, I'm still here, sorry. I expected you to lecture me on inviting strange men into my apartment,' you admit. 

'I would, but I know this man. I think he's a good one,' Zayne admits, 'I'm glad you ran into him. Seems the type for you.' Fair enough. Zayne has listened to you whine about men often enough to be glad you're finally actually like one. There's a knock at your door and a rush of nerves goes through your system. 

'Oh, that must be him,' you tell Zayne, 'I'll call you later, okay? We still need to set a date for our annual trip.' 

'Sure. I'll talk to you later.' His voice sounds amused, almost like he's smiling through the phone. You feel a little flustered. He probably picked up on your tone change when you heard the knocks on the door. 

'Bye.' You put your phone in your pocket and walk towards the door, stopping in front of the hallway mirror to check yourself one last time. Outfit, comfy but cute. Hair, eh, good enough. Makeup, minimal but nice. You pull the door open to reveal Sylus in a barely buttoned black blouse and slacks. Now you feel awfully underdressed in your jeans. Are you sure you agreed on dinner and a movie at his place? This looks like he's taking you to a 3-star dining and rented the whole cinema. 

But, you should have known he was going to be dressed like that. After all, it was the same outfit he wore in his newest video. The one he posted today, earlier than he usually does. In a way, you feel like he did it to tease you. Especially since it wasn't all that erotic. It was just him sitting back against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hand, reading the most utterly horny smutty chapter you've ever heard in your damn life. It nearly made you fall off your chair running to your room to masturbate, but you decided against it. The night's still young after all. 

The chapter stuck with you though. Because it wasn't all that horny because of the actual sex happening, but more because of the love between the characters. To be desired so carnally, to be loved so openly, is a fucking turn on. 

'You look beautiful,' he notes, taking all of your thoughts away with one look. The way his eyes rake over you, you feel like you're a marble statue in a museum. Loved, admired, valued, but most of all, beautiful. A blush spreads on your cheeks. 

'Thank you. You look nice too.' 

'Just nice?' 

'Stunning.' The nerves don't calm down and you're not sure why. You've already had him in your bed, you kissed him, cuddled him, let him... Why are you blushing at the thought of it now? Is it because this is a proper date? It's not even that serious. It's just dinner and a movie at his place. 

'Ready?' He offers you his arm. You nod and place your hand on his forearm. It's awfully proper, but it does feel very nice to be treated so respectfully. 

'I have to say, I was expecting a kiss,' you admit. He grins and leans down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nothing special, just a gentle greeting from a lover. 

A lover? No, more than that. It feels like home. Like you've been kissing his lips for years, but the spark is still there. Like this is how it's meant to be. Like he is completely and utterly in love with you, and you feel the same. 

Shit, you're in love. 

Sylus leads you into his apartment. The one time you were in there, you didn't really take in his decor. It's very much him. The whole place is made up of black, white, some dark wood tones, yet it still feels warm. It might be because he has taken a page out of your book with all the candles he's lit around the apartment. The dining table is set beautifully. There's red wine on the table already, along with a beautiful bouquet of deep red roses that look almost velvety. There's some music playing that feels slightly suggestive but not enough to comment on. 

'Wow, you really went all you,' you note. You feel his arm slip from your grasp and around your waist to pull you closer against him. He looks down at you with the lightest flicker of a big smile. 

'For you, I'd rearrange the stars if you asked me to. Now go sit down. Food will be ready in a bit.' 

Sylus stands behind the stove while you take a seat at the table. Of course, you take the seat across from the kitchen so you can watch him work. The way he slightly is swaying and softly humming along with the music is truly a vision to behold. A domestic vision. A vision of a future you'd like to live. 

He looks over his shoulder, seeing you leaning on your palm, elbow on the table, staring at him. You feel your cheeks heat up again but no urge to look away. Instead, you smile at him and he smiles back. He picks up the pan and walks over to the table, setting it down in the middle between the two plates.  

'Pasta alla Norma. Say when,' he says as he starts dishing out the food on your plate. You nod your head to him after a bit, having a very generous portion of pasta on your plate. He does the same for himself and grabs the wine to uncork it. All of it goes so smooth, so fluent, like every motion of his is perfected. 

And so is the food. It's not that special of a pasta dish but it's made so damn well. 'Is there anything you can't do,' you joke, 'I might just have to marry you right here and now.' His lips quirk into a smile. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? We barely know each other,' he teases back, 'what if I turn out to be a serial killer?' 

'Then I'd die a happy death.' Even though you are joking, somewhere in the back of your mind you know that it's true. You've never had a connection to anyone before like you have with him. It's new and exciting, but most of all it feels right. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The dinner is mostly uneventful, except that Sylus got some sauce on his clothes. He claimed it was because he was admiring you, but you saw him struggle to get the bite on his fork properly. However, this one time you decided not to tease him because you do want to cuddle up to him during the movie. 

At least, that was the plan. Pure innocent cuddling.  

Seems Sylus has different plans. You're sitting leaned against him, knees pulled up onto his lap, his arm around you, but for about ten odd minutes now his free hand has been tracing figured on your thigh. Each passing moment he seems to get a little bit closer to your inner thigh. 

The teasing gets you hot and bothered, which only makes Sylus smirk. You don't have to look up at him to know. He moves his other hand from your shoulder to your waist, his thumb gently rubbing your skin so that your shirt starts riding up until you feel his touch on your skin. 

That's when he shoves his other hand between your thighs, so close to your core, pulling a gasp from your lips. As you smack your hand in front of your mouth and look up, you can already feel Sylus’ laugh rumbling through his chest. You won't stand for that shit. 

With one swift movement, you sit yourself on his lap. Hands gently draped over his shoulders; hips so close to his but not quite close enough. He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you right on top of his bulge. The friction makes you gasp, but you try to keep a straight face. 

'We're not watching the movie, are we,' he asks suggestively. You move your hands to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them slowly, one by one. In response, his hands start roaming over your hips, your thighs, they grace your ass and lower back. You feel yourself start to grind against him ever so slightly. It's almost involuntarily and gets more intense when you see how much Sylus is blushing while trying to keep a straight face. 

'Don't know why you're asking me. You're the one who started it.' Your hands get to the bottom button that you can still see. Instead of undoing it, you splay your hands out over his stomach, exploring all the skin you've freed as you rake your nails over the lean muscles on his stomach. 

'Mmm, I know sweetie, but consent is sexy,' he groans, moving his head towards your shoulder, he presses a kiss under your ear, 'do I have your consent?' 

'You do,' you say breathlessly, moving your hands behind his neck, entangling your fingers in his hair as you grind on him a little harder. He gently bites the spot he just kissed as a reply and grips your hips roughly, guiding you over him while he bucks up at you. His breathing becomes labored as you two dry fuck like a bunch of horny teenagers. 

He moves his head to kiss your lips. It's all tongue and teeth, desperately chasing a high. Somewhere in your mind you had expected Sylus to be cool, calm, collected when it comes to sex, but seeing him this excited because of you gives you confidence the likes of which you have never experienced. 

Suddenly, he drops his head back to your shoulder and bites down as his movements become less rhythmic. He stops moving all together and looks up at you with big eyes, staring up at you like you're made of pure stardust. 

'Did you just-' 

'Yes.' 

'Because-' 

'Because an angel was riding me.' A grin spreads across your face. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager because of you. That's so fucking hot. If he starts praising you any more you might just become a nightmare to deal with. 

'Wanna do it again without clothes?' 

'More than you could ever imagine.' He grabs your ass and stands up with you in his arms. A yelp slips from your lips as you quickly grab his shoulders. There's that smirk again. Shit, this could be the switch Olympics at this point, that way that you keep flipping. 

Being in Sylus’ bedroom is slightly strange. You've seen it from all angels before, even though you've never been there before. He lays you down on his bed and you see yourself looking back on the ceiling. For a second, your mind is completely lost until you realize that there's mirrors on his ceiling. Strangely, that doesn't surprise you in the slightest. 

Then, you see Sylus taking off his shirt. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him as he undoes the button on his jeans. A devious idea pops into your head and you grab his hand to stop him.  

He watches you intensively as you switch places with him so he is seated at the edge of the bed. His eagerness to touch you has a hold on him but he's trying so hard to let you do whatever. You take his hands and guide them to the hem of your shirt. Then, you slide them up. He quickly catches on and helps you take your shirt off, revealing a beautiful black lace bra. 

'Shit,' he cusses under his breath, tossing your shirt somewhere in the corner. His hands move to your jeans and undo the button and zipper. One peek at your matching undies has him groaning. He helps you step out of your jeans and grabs your hips gently, pulling you towards him. You put your hands on either sides of his face. His eyes are on yours, but they keep flickering down to your lips while his thumbs gently rub your hips. 'All this for me?' 

'All for you.' Your voice comes out sultry, seductive. Nothing you've ever sounded like before. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, and kisses you slowly. 

'You look beautiful,' he mumbles against your lips, drunk off your body and the lingering thought of being inside it. He finally peels himself off your body and switches sides with you again. 'Lay down. I'll be right back.' 

'Don't leave me,' you whine as you grab his hand. He stops for a second, physically restraining himself. 

'Condom,' he says and lets go of your hand, disappearing into the bathroom. You decide to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, eagerly awaiting his return while you soak through your panties. It takes him less than a minute to come back, and when he does his jeans are already off. You eye his bulge with your mouth slightly agape. Sure, you had seen it before, but everything looks smaller on a phone screen. He catches the worry in your eyes as he puts one knee on the bed to be closer to you. 'We don't have to-' 

'Shut up,' you quip, 'I'll be fine. Just go slow.' There's that grin again. With one hand, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra with ease, with the other he hands you the condom, then he guides you onto your back. You try to take off your bra as you lay, but he grabs your hand and guides it to his hair. For a second, you don't understand but then he dips his head down and starts kissing your chest, slowly making his way over your clothed nipple and kissing it, leaving a wet spot on the lace. With his other hand he pushes the straps off your shoulders.  

Within seconds you are reduces to a whimpering, moaning mess. Your legs spread to make room for him and he gratefully takes his place between them. Sylus finally grabs the bra and removes it, joining it with your shirt and pants on the floor. His hand returns to your breast quickly, his hand gently massaging it while his lips make their way down lower. 

Slowly but surely, he reaches your panties and places lingering kisses just above them. Your hips buck up towards him and you hear the rumble of his rich chuckle. 'Sweetie, you know what you do to me. I fear I might not survive if I spend all my time between your legs.' 

'And I fear I might not survive if you don't fuck me right now,' you groan, giving a firm thug on his hair. You hear him gasp and it goes straight to your pussy. You cuss under your breath as you look down at the smug smile he wears. His fingers hook under your panties and pull them off. They join your other clothing on the floor. 

'You're soaked,' he notes, satisfied. 

'And you're not inside me yet.' Another rumbling laugh as he reaches for his own boxers and pulls them off in a swift motion. Shit, he's big and... are those- 

'They'll feel good. Trust me,' he promises as he watches you look at the two piercings making up his frenum ladder. You reach out to touch it and he lets you. He shivers under your touch as you run your hand over the metal beats on the underside of his dick. 

'One of these days I'm going to make you fuck me raw,' you say, not really realizing what you're saying as you're completely enamored with his dick and piercings. 

'You can't say stuff like that. I'm trying to go slow,' he almost gasps for air with every word and snatches the condom from your hand to quickly roll it on. You watch him lean over you, one of his hands firmly planted next to your head, the other guiding his cock towards your entrance. 

'Fuck slow.' You wrap your legs around him, pulling him towards you. He slips inside easily but goddamn it's a fucking stretch to say the very least. All you can hear is a mixed chorus of groans and gasps. He doesn't move his hips as his eyes study your face, fearing the discomfort he sees might be too much for you. However, you could care less. You feel so incredibly full and ecstatic to be spending the night with him that you might just burst right now. You reach out for him, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. 

'Are you alright,' he asks, holding off the kiss until he has your ok, 'I'm all the way in.' 

'I'm fine. Just kiss me and please move. I need it so fucking bad,' you beg. He does as you say, crashing his lips on yours as he sets a painfully slow tempo to get you used to him. You feel like you're going to snap if he keeps this up. 'Please move faster.' Your words sound more like a moan. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? You seem to be enjoying it just fine.' He looks down at you with pure amusement. Seems he's in a mood. You quickly shove his arm and manage to turn him on his back, not that he puts up much of a fight. 

'I thought you wanted me on top,' you tease back, sheeting yourself on his dick in one motion before he can even respond. Sylus lets out a low groan, throwing his head back and clawing at your hips for something to hold on to. 'Are you going to be a good boy for me and let me ride you?' 

'What happens if I say no.' 

'You'll have to find out.' He nods in response and makes himself comfortable on the pillows. You take that as your go ahead and set an absolutely feral pace. He was right about those piercings. They feel amazing.  

The horniest gasp you've ever heard slips from Sylus’ lips as he turns bright red in the face. His hands move down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin. You'll certainly have bruises tomorrow. 

'Does that feel good,' you ask him as you lean down a little, planting your hands on his chest, nails raking over his pecs. 

'Yes,' he moans, looking absolutely beautifully drunk on you. You feel your high approaching, as does he from what you can tell. He's so close to unraveling and it's beautiful. You wish you could capture this moment, keep this feeling bottled up on your nightstand.  

His hands move back to your hips as he suddenly plants his heels against the mattress and starts trusting up into you, hitting new highs deep inside of you. Highs that no one has ever hit before. Highs that you want him to hit each and every day. He's addicting. Your whole body is tingling as you lean closer towards him, trying to keep up with his pace while you kiss him. He seems too focused to kiss you properly. It's a mess of spit, biting, teeth clanking, and it's so fucking hot. You lick down his neck as you feel your high approaching so fucking fast. 

And there it goes. You hear an animalistic groan next to you, feel it rumble through his chest as his motions become sloppier. Your body topples over the edge and in a moment of absolute bliss, to suppress the absolutely vile sounds you make, you bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Sylus moans at the pain, grabbing your ass to push your body down against him, holding you in place speared on his cock. 

Waves of pleasure shake through your body as Sylus presses sweet kisses on top of your head. His hips move ever so slightly, helping you ride it out. Your eyelids start feeling heavy, your body is aching, your pussy is clenching up. 

'Are you alright?' Sylus voice is different now. It sounds almost worried. You release his shoulder from your bite and prop yourself up on his chest. 

'Peachy,' you reply with a hazy smile, 'wanna take a nap and do it again in a few hours?' 

There goes that rumbling laugh of his again. His hands start rubbing your back as he leans up to peck your lips. It's such an innocent gesture if you don't think about the fact that his dick is still inside you, twitching with every single tiny movement you make. 'As much as I would like that. Let's give it a few more hours and do it again in the morning. Deal?' 

'Only if we take a shower together.' 

'I'll do you one better. I have a tub.' 

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[sc0tters]

Best | Jack Hughes

summary: the time has come for you to return to New Jersey, does seeing Jack make you fall into old ways or do you finally stay strong?

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual relationships but nothing overly explicit.

word count: 3.69k

authors note: first off happy 2025! this is our first fic of the year and we have waited way to long for this part to come out but I seriously think the wait was worth it all in the end. I was going to give us a good ending but then I heard Best by Gracie Abrams and you guys said we could do the angst soo… if it’s not clear, this is a sequel (that I throughly enjoyed writing) but you don’t have to ready part one, it’s just that this one will make a lot more sense if you did first.

part one

This was meant to be a trip you were excited for.

Christmas and New Years in Jersey with Luke at your side. It had been planned since you missed your annual trip to the lake house after your parents surprised you with a much needed summer in Europe.

Just as you should have predicted things ran cold with Jack the moment you the garden state last time round. So now as you stood in Newark airport waiting for Luke to show up you had to force a smile on your face, as the pit in your stomach grew.

Nerves coursed through your veins as you hated that Jack still got to have an effect of you.

This was meant to be a trip that you could use to just catch up with your best friend, but still you stood there forced to have his older brother be the one who was on your mind.

All you were left with was the memories, that you couldn’t seem to part with “guess who?” Your thought was broken as hands covered your eyes “are you that one devils defender?” You grinned knowing that it was Luke who stood behind you.

His shitty attempt of a British accent made you laugh “that one devils defender?” Luke scoffed as he dropped his hands allowing you to turn to face him “Lukey!” You squealed pulling him into a hug.

The boy smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling happy that you were back there with him. Luke had seen you in Detroit over the last two months but this was the first time you both got to spend actual time together since February.

Luke’s eyes scanned your face to see how much you had changed recently, your eyes didn’t seem to shine as bright as they once did. He knew that something was up with you, it would have taken a fool to not.

As the man who knew you like the back of his hand Luke knew that you’d also only tell him once you were ready. He just really hoped that what ever seemed to drag you down, would be set free before it was too late “I’ve missed you.” Your voice was soft as you ran your fingers through the curls you used to help him take care of in your dorm.

He was quick to grab your suitcase from you “we’ve got so much to talk about!” He confessed motioning to you to follow him to his car.

The ride was long but felt short in time as the two of you didn’t shut up, catching up on all things school, hockey, and life itself.

Jack had come back from a workout as the two of you arrived, and you swore that the universe was out to get you. The elevator doors opened on the gym floor and that’s where you were met with the middle Hughes brother.

He was sweaty as he had a towel that sat in his shoulders “didn’t think you were gonna be here yet.” Jack stepped into the elevator as you shrugged “flight got in early.” You tried to pay no mind to the fact that your body felt on fire as his eyes practically burnt into your soul.

Luke sucked at his teeth “it’s good because Jacky here got us into hosting a party tomorrow.” He mumbled sending his brother a glare “Jack eh?” You teased wanting to let out a laugh.

Jack smirked as he looked at you “you want to go on a booze run with me or get snacks?” You didn’t even need to answer as Luke cut you off “you want to get a partner for this prep then you find your own best friend.” He pointed out wrapping his arm around you.

The middle Hughes boy let his lips form a pout “and here I was thinking we’d share her.” The words made you cough as the elevator doors opened to their apartment floor.

Jack laughed “good to see ya Blossom.” The nickname rolled off of his tongue as he walked out first.

The next twenty four hours you were able to avoid Jack for the most part as Luke wanted to show you all the parts of the city that he had grown to love since you had last been. And the fact that he still shopped like a teenage boy helped, as you were having to explain to Luke what a party really needed.

Your luck ran out as Luke got drunk whilst the continued on. Jack clearly knew what he was doing when he bough Luke’s favourite shooter, as the youngest Hughes boy currently stood practically jumping off the walls.

Some of their teammates knew of you from your last time being there and how Luke never seemed to shut up about you. Nico had already been over to say hello again as you had gotten yourself a drink “Y’know I’ve got to get back to my sister but I think you should go see what Jack wants.” Nico motioned in the direction of his teammate.

Jack looked at you as you nodded “thanks for the heads up.” you mumbled seeing the American a confused look as he watched you see if there was someone behind you.

You tried to avoid him but you felt as if you were trapped as Jack seemed to be where ever you turned after that. Every time you went to a different part of the apartment he was talking to a different person. But of course his eyes never seemed to leave yours.

So as you watched this blonde girl run her fingers over his shirt you finally felt sick, rather than watching the scene continue on. You instead opted to chug the remainder of the whiskey in your cup, before you headed to the bathroom hoping that a slash of cold water would do the trick.

Your face felt warm as the sound of water running in the faucet trickled in your ears “pull yourself together.” You sighed resting over the counter as the door opened “can’t you see this is busy-” you grumbled cutting yourself off as you locked eyes with Jack.

He sent you a glare “you know you’ve got a funny way of getting all mad at me when I go talk to someone.” Jack let out a cruel laugh “ain’t like you’re fucking that Canadian or somethin’.” He added making you scoff.

You had started a solid relationship with Ethan right as the summer started as you both seemed to bond over heartbreak. His girlfriend had dumped him and as everyone celebrated the end of the school year, you both found each other in bed needing the company and the release.

Before you knew it, those meet-ups became weekly things. You needed a break from Jack and that seemed to be the one thing that really did calm your mind, even if it was only for that night.

But as Jack stood in front of you, you couldn’t believe that he got mad “you keeping tabs on me or some shit?” you laughed almost wondering if someone was playing some sick prank on you.

He still stood tall as he rolled his eyes “don’t play dumb with me.” He muttered letting a loose strand of your hair get caught between his fingers.

His touch made your body feel on fire “and it’s hard to not know when Luke won’t seem to shut up about it.” Jack added making you smirk “you jealous that he ain’t heard about you?” You asked tilting your head up to face him.

Jack stood there for a moment as he thought about it “you think I’m gonna be jealous of a little college fuck toy?” He laughed almost taunting you “know only I fuck you the best.” The middle Hughes boy knew he was right as you pushed your thighs together trying to dispose of the heat that built up in them.

You shook your head “not anymore.” Your lips pursed together as you shook your head.

Jack noticed how you were still wearing that same perfume of yours that drove him wild “got a long time here.” You still had four days left there and if your trip was going to end like the last one, he knew you’d end up in his bed at least once.

But in that bathroom you tried to remain strong “you wanna act like you don’t fuck me and leave me?” You scoffed wanting to honestly hit him in that moment.

You pressed your pointer finger against his chest “like I’m not just the same as every other girl that you fuck and forget about as if I’m nothing.” Your voice broke as you almost felt your emotions making you feel nauseous.

He could read the pain in your face “don’t say that.” He clicked his tongue as he reached for your arm “know you’re my special girl.” The title was meant to fill you with joy and praise, and it would have if this was February.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice and I’m the fucking idiot.” You sucked at your teeth watching him remain silent.

There was so much anger in your body “I can’t believe I actually let you fuck me.” You spat turning around to finally leave.

The door to the bathroom whipped as you were faced with Luke “you fucked my best friend?” He scoffed as he looked over you and towards his brother.

His eyes traveled down to yours as he frowned “I’ve got to go.” You mumbled pushing past him as your cheeks turned red, flushed with embarrassment as the boy’s teammates and their partners eyes stuck on you.

You went through the crowed as you grabbed your scarf “I can’t believe you!” Was the last thing you heard before you let the door shut behind you, desperate to be as far away from there as possible.

But the first thing you needed was a drink and a strong one.

It had been hours since what you called your catastrophic meltdown in the Hughes apartment, and Luke still refused to listen to a word that Jack said “she’ll be okay Luke.” His voice broke the silence as the younger Hughes snapped his head in his brother’s direction.

Luke chewed at the inside of his cheek “she’s a smart kid.” Jack added finally breaking his younger brother “you don’t think I already know that?” The defenseman scoffed as he threw his cloth onto the table.

It was rare that he got this angry, but tonight Jack pushed his past his limits “she’s my best friend and you just had to go and fuck her?” Luke felt tears form in his eyes as the betrayal stood in front of him “and for what? To make her life hell and make me think that I did something to make her hate me?” Your avoidance of being in the same place as Jack finally all made sense. You weren’t avoiding Luke but rather the pain his brother managed to so easily inflict on you without a second thought.

The middle Hughes boy shook his head as he let out a sigh “you think I wanted to walk away from her?” Jack sucked at his teeth as he let his eyes squint into a harsh line “you don’t think that I spend most nights fucking wishing she wasn’t your best friend so that this wouldn’t have been so complicated.” Those words made Luke ball his hand into a fist.

He felt his heart pound in his ears as he grew irritated “how is you screwing her and leaving complicated?” Luke’s voice raised as both boys did little to care about what their neighbours would think.

Jack knew he couldn’t really say it, even if there was a truth that made him feel trapped “she deserves so much better than you.” Luke spat letting his words hit his brother like bullets.

The room felt claustrophobic as the middle Hughes boy tried to ignore that he agreed “you’re right.” Jack sighed making Luke freeze as his eyebrows raised.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek “I love her but I couldn’t be the reason you two stopped being friends.” His confession lingered in the air as Luke realised that his brother was being truthful, even if it was as ironic as it seemed.

But Luke didn’t get a chance to offer some form of a rebuttal as the echo of something falling onto the wooden floor of the living room. There you stood with now tear stained cheeks “I forgot my wallet.” You announced holding the red purse in your hand with your eyes widened.

Jack felt his throat go dry, as it was clear that you had been there to hear what he had said. He wanted to reach out for you but instead Luke beat him to it “we should talk.” Luke didn’t give either of you a chance to respond as he pulled you out of the apartment.

Snow sat on the windowsill of the hotel room as Luke joined you on the bed after what felt like the quietest uber ride of your life.

You hadn’t stopped fidgeting as never really thought that you’d have to tell Luke about this part of your life “I’m so sorry Luke.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you expected him to yell, scream, even just be disappointed in you.

But instead the boy clicked his tongue to break his silence “do you love him?” Luke knew that you had always had some degree of a crush on his older brother. Yet he never assumed it would have been something reciprocated or even acted upon.

The question lingered in your mind as you couldn’t find the right words to explain yourself to him “I did but I don’t know how I could like him when he has hurt me twice now.” You fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you let your eyes stare at your knee.

Your answer made Luke frown as you too were processing what Jack had confessed “and it’s for the best that nothing does happen.” You added, not sure if you were telling yourself that too or just the boy in front of you.

Luke placed his hand on yours “you know that it’s okay to still want him.” He sighed knowing how his brother could be and the love you held for him “I just wish you had told me.” His words made you let out a soft laugh.

A tear slid down your cheek as you cocked your head “that I was fucking your brother or that I liked him?” The words made him erupt into laughter that made yours follow shortly after.

He shook his head as he pulled you into an awkward hug as you still sat cross legged “I just missed you is all.” Luke had stayed up more nights than he could count over the last year as he tried to figure out what had happened to you.

You wanted to believe that everything would be fine between the two of you, that it’d all go back to some sense of normal. But you knew deep down that it would never be the case. Because as you lay there talking yourself to sleep as Luke refused to let you go, part of you wished that it was Jack that held you.

Sure you got your best friend back to the greed you held caused you to want the middle Hughes boy now more than ever. Luke had seen you through your highs and lows so you almost guessed that there was now a silent expectation that he’d always show up for you. And that was it, Luke was always going to show up for you.

It should have been enough, and you really did want it to be that way.

Luke let out a quiet ‘mhm’ as he squeezed your side nestling against you “I just wish things never had to change.” You sighed letting your head rest on his chest as the sound of his heart beat soothed you to sleep.

On the other side of the city, Jack lay there as he struggled to sleep. Thoughts of you plagued his mind, as he too wanted to be selfish. You being in his life as merely Luke’s best friend should have been enough.

The boundary that the title drew should never have been broken. But Jack was so desperate to have you in more of his life than just during the summer or when you’d visit Luke.

It seemed that up until tonight Jack didn’t know how to put what he felt into words and now that he had told Luke the truth, Jack had opened the faucet of emotions that couldn’t be turned off.

So as he lay staring at the alarm clock that sat on to his bedside table, Jack couldn’t help but think about what it was like to have you beside him. The thought of your imprint in his bed was like a drug as his hand gripped the empty side of his bed.

Silence consumed him as he shut his eyes, praying that he hadn’t waited until it was too late.

You and Luke had managed to avoid Jack and the apartment for the rest of your trip “you sure you want to do this?” Luke’s question lingered on your mind as you stared at the front door “if I don’t then I’m worse than him.” You wouldn’t have assumed that the pain you experienced would ever have been felt by Jack.

But still that didn’t help your hands from clamming up as the door opened. Jack paused the tv as he heard the noise, making his head whip around.

His eyes landed on you and it was clear he hadn’t properly slept in days “hey.” His voice was soft as his gaze fell onto his younger brother “I’ll go get the car ready.” Luke offered taking your suitcase with him as he left the two of you alone.

You fiddled with the ring on your finger as the middle Hughes brother walked up to you “I’m sorry.” Jack cleared his throat as he stopped in front of you.

He ran his fingers through his hair hoping you knew what to say back “I’m leaving.” You admitted as your mouth felt dry.

Nerves rocked your body as he shook his head “can we talk about what happened?” He pleaded as he felt as if his throat constricted. The boy reached for you as you pulled away, shaking your head no.

It took all of you to not break “we just hurt each other.” You pointed out knowing that your heart couldn’t take one more time of Jack walking out on you.

His words meant nothing if his actions didn’t fulfil them and right now, you weren’t ready to just take that chance “I love you.” If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn it sounded as if he was begging you to just say it back to him.

Your voice broke as you saw how his eyes were full of pain “you hurt me Jack, you don’t love me.” Jack never knew of your nights in your dorm as you sat there in tears wishing that Jack could hold even an ounce of the love you held for him.

He shook his head wanting to wipe away the tears from your cheeks “I never meant to do that.” Of course Jack never did mean to but it seemed as if he just couldn’t help it. It now seemed as if it was easier to hurt you than call you his.

The two of you cried as Jack gripped your hands in his not wanting to hear you say what he thought was coming “if you love me Jack.” You cut yourself off as you sniffled.

It made his heart break as he squeezed your hand “I’m so in love with you.” He confessed making you shake your head “you need to let me go.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you nodded.

Time felt as it is slowed as the boy dropped your hands whilst he froze “and if things are different down the line maybe we can try again.” The offer almost felt like a shitty taunt, that if Jack hadn’t fucked up you could have been his now.

He wanted to fight you on this, he really did “I’ll see you in the summer.” You knew you were going to be there and that was your personal wound. Memories would have to be made that would try to cover those of Jack and that night that started this all.

Your thumb felt rough against his cheek as you wiped away a tear of his “don’t do this.” He pleaded with you wanted to do anything to make you change your mind “goodbye Jack.” You gave him a soft nod as you saw Luke stood by the door with his keys in his hand.

It took all your strength to not go turn around and run into Jacks arms as you walked out of the door.

Because the truth was that, you were still convincing yourself that you had done the best thing for yourself.

Even if you were convinced that in that moment you lost the love of your life.

So as you forced yourself back into work and school when you got back to Michigan, it seemed that life for Jack continued on too. Yet as you trying to forget about him, rumours spread about there being a lucky lady in Jacks life.

This was struck your heart as you truthfully believed that you had really made the right choice, and that you were so stupid to believe he could have ever wanted you. So with Jack you hadn’t really lost him.

Because after all, you can’t lose something you never really had.

[axeoverblade]

THIS WITH MILES AND RIO OMG

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8e2jNJ6/

Can she come over?

Miles(s) Morales x fem! Reader

Synopsis! After seeing a Tiktok on your for you page, you persuaded your boyfriend to do it with you.

MASTERLIST

Genre: Fluff, pre established relationship, slight age up so it makes sense that they’re in a car

Warnings: none!

Word count: .8k

Authors comment: This was so cute and fun to write, hopefully this was what you were asking. Didn’t know which Miles you wanted so suprise it’s both! Small blurbs. Enjoy <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

EARTH 1610!MILES

“Baby no I’m not doing that!” Miles whined. “Cmon!! It’s just a little jokey-joke!” You lightly pushed his shoulder, trying to persuade him for the umpteenth time. He looked at you and sighed, finally caving in, “you're so lucky I love you”. Giggling, you urged him to call his mom quicker, setting up your camera on the dashboard of the car to record.

“I’m blaming this on you” he said, phone ringing as he looked at you. “I’m willing to accept the consequences” you smiled.

“Yes hijo?” His mother said, you smiled wider, covering your mouth with your hand. “Hola mami” “Do u need something? Oh! Can you tell y/n she left her pajamas so I washed em’ for her.” “oh uh,” he looked at you, “I’m not with her, when I see her I’ll say something. What are you doing right now?” “Mmm nothing worth talking about, por que? Is something wrong?” She asked, becoming more concerned towards the end of her sentence. “Nah nothin’s wrong” Miles paused, “can I bring a girl over?” He winced, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Que? I thought you said you weren’t with y/n? You don’t have to ask to bring her over anymore-” “uh actually it’s not her”

The phone went silent, “….eh?”, you stifled a laugh, looking at miles who was holding in a laugh himself. “It’s not her mami, ‘s another girl.” “So, what I’m hearing is,” she paused, taking a moment to process, “you want some random girl over that’s not y/n? Why?” “Oh well you know, I’m hanging out with her right now and she wants to come over” “does y/n know about this?” “Uhm nah, this girl is kinda..” Miles trailed off, insinuating he was hiding her from you. “Miles te lo juro que te asesinaré con mis propias manos.” you couldn’t hold it in anymore, throwing your head back as you cackled. Miles' eyes widened at your break of character as he laughed too, quickly muting himself, “You think this is funny Miles? Was that her laughing?” Rio yelled quickly, had you not been used to her voice you wouldn’t have understood what she said with how fast the words left her mouth. Miles unmuted himself, knowing if he didn’t stop the prank now he would get in serious trouble. “Cálmate mami, we’re kidding it’s a joke!”

“Hi Mrs.Morales!” You choked out through a laugh. “Ay-Y/n is that you?” “Yes ma’am” you giggled. Rio mumbled something under her breath, “you two play too much. I’ll see you both for dinner, don't be late.” With that she hung up. You looked at Miles who was shaking his head at you, “mi princesa, you’re gonna get me killed.” You giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, grabbing your phone off the dashboard and stopping the recording, “maybe thats my goal.”.

•

EARTH 42!MILES

“Baby Im not doing it, do you know how pissed she’s gonna be?” He looked at you skeptically. You set up your camera on the dashboard, pressing record. “Cmon querido it’s for memories” he sighed looking at your pleading expression. He rolled his eyes, “you owe me” you smiled wide, happy he finally agreed after a hefty amount of convincing. He dialed his mother, staring at you while it rang.

“Yes Hijo?” Ríos voice spoke through the phone speaker. “Hola mama, whatchu’ doin’?” “Uhm I’m on a five minutó break at the hospital, por que?” “Uhh nothin much, so I’m wit’ a girl n’ she wants to come over to the house, I was just letting you know-” “eh? Where's y/n? Is she already there or something?” You smiled. “Uh nah, just me n’ the girl.” “…Dónde está y/n?” “Uh” he looked at you for a split second, “I don’t know.” “Does she know this girl is coming over?” “Nah and I’m keeping it that way” Miles said, hinting something was going on with this mystery girl. “Miles, tu traes esa nena a casa y te lo juro.", you covered your mouth holding in a laugh, looking at Miles. He shook his head, “well I mean she’s kinda already with me,” “Is her name y/n” “que? no i just said it’s not y/n-” “then she can’t come over. I see you with another girl near our property and it’s not ending well for either of you, comprende?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer, letting out the laugh you had been keeping.

“Ella se acaba de reír de? Miles Morales-" “Mama we kid’, y/n is wit’ me. it’s a joke” he quickly cut her off before she could begin her rant. “Sorry Mrs.Morales” you said through a fit of giggles. “Cariño don’t do that, you had me worried.” She spoke to you through the phone.“Sorry mama” you replied using the nickname developed for Rio throughout your relationship with Miles. She clicked her teeth, “I’m gonna tell your ma on you little girl, eres malo.”. You let out a small laugh and apologized, saying your goodbyes so she could get back to work. You grabbed your phone off the dashboard stopping the recording, giving Miles a quick kiss on the cheek. “So about what you owe me” he said looking at you suggestively. You laughed, “you’re gross”

©axeoverblade

[formulaisa]

hi, could you please do a smau thing where where another driver accidentally hard launches pepe and readers relationship, and just like how the fans react and other drivers who didnt know react. I hope this makes sense :)

Secret's Out | Pepe Marti

Summary: You and Pepe are teammates and had planned to soft launch your relationship to avoid fan criticism. All of that changes when someone slips up...

Warnings: some spanish (with translations)

Author's note: AHHHH! I love this request. I made them teammates so it's more high stakes and their dynamic makes more sense. I added Gaby and Christian because I just love them so much. Also, as a Spaniard, I had to include football references. This is my first ever post on this account and first ever smau. If you have any feedback or suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! <3 F2/F3 masterlist / homepage / main masterlist

yourusername just posted

liked by pepemartiofficial, camposracing and others

tagged: yourbestfriend

yourusername past few weeks back home in madrid. getting ready for Qatar and Abu Dhabi!!

user1 IT GIRL

yourbestfriend is that who i think it is.....???

yourusername😊😊😊

user2 ummm the flowers?????

→ user3 omg she's soft launching

gabyprentice gorgeous <3

→ yourusername all you ❤️

user4 her life looks like my pinterest board

user5 OMG WHO IS THIS MAN???

user6 she's stunning wow

user7 she really does it all...

→ user8 ikr?? f2 driver, baddie.... → user 7 😭😭😭

user9 i'm so nosy, i need to know who this is

[mi amor = my love]

christian.mansell has added to their story

yourusername has added to their story

f2gossip just posted

liked by f1 gossip, user 1 and others

tagged: yourusername, pepemartiofficial

f2gossip 🚨due to recent posts, fans speculate that y/n l/n is soft launching a new relationship. all we know, he's a Barca fan. who could it be???

user1: it HAS to be Pepe. there's no way it's not. he's literally from Barcelona

→ user2: it couldn't have been Pepe in the Barca jersey. He's was already in London when she posted it → user3: let me be delulu!!!

user4: crazy day to be a Campos fan

user5: i don't care who it is. i'm LIVING for this tea rn

user6: we're so delulu. i love this.

user7: it HAS to be Pepe. The way he looks at her....

user8: everyone is speculating WAY too much about this. who cares?

user9: guys i don't know if it's Pepe. I feel like he's slightly tanner than the hand in the pictures ☹️☹️☹️

user10: i'm going to cry if it's not Pepe. They're my dream couple

user11: team dynamics are going to be MESSY if it is him

user12: agreed, we don't even know if it's him in the pictures and if it is, it's a total PR mess for Campos. people need to stop speculating

gabyprentice_ has added to their story

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tagged: christian.mansell

pepemartiofficial Mary Poppins who 🪄☔

christian.mansell i'm siingin in the rain, i'm singin' in the raaaiin!

user1: You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ellla, eh, eh, eh!

gabyprentice_ @/yourusername they need help

→yourusername it's bad

user2: WHO ARE THESE DIVAS💜

user3: more like Christian and Pepe Poppins

user4: my fav couple 😍😍😍

user5: okay now post y/n

user6: LIVING for this London content

user7: cutiessss

user8: favorite duooooo 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

user9: photo credits to gaby and y/n NOW!!!!

yourusername just posted

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and others

tagged: gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, pepemartiofficial

yourusername London with friends + major third wheeling >>>>>>

christian.mansell your just jealous of our love

→ pepemartiofficial fr → gabyprentice_ @/yourusername it's okay bbg, you have me → christian.mansell fuck nvm

pepemarti i'm mary poppins!!!

→ yourusername stick to racing...

gabyprentice_ you're beyond stunning

→ yourusername AHHH LOVE YOU SM → user1: pepe and y/n? no i'm team y/n and gaby!!!!

user2: i'm obsessed with this group dynamic

user2: OMG GUYS ITS PEPE HOLDING THE UMBRELLA

→ user4: i'm actually dying they're so cute → user5: guys give it a rest, there's no real evidence that they're together

user6: PEPE IF YOU DON'T WANT HER I'LL TAKE HER

user7: i'm going to be so upset if they're not actually together bc this is so adorable

user8: BEAUTIFUL

user9: OMG STOP PEPE AND CHRISTIAN

user10: GUYS I NEED CONFIRMATION OF THIS RELATIONSHIP RN

→ user11: they're too cute to not be a real couple

user12: this girl is living my dream

christian.mansell just posted

liked by gabyprentice_, user1 and others

tagged: pepemartiofficial, yourusername

christian.mansell a week of ACTUALLY third wheeling in London

gabyprentice_ i was there too. you weren't third wheeling ☹️☹️☹️

→ user1 justice for my girl gaby!!!

user1 THE LAST PICTURE

user2 OH MY GOD THERE'S NO WAY

user3 NO WAY THEY'RE ACTUALLY TOGETHER

user4 CANNOT BELIEVE THEY USED CHRISTIAN TO HARD LAUNCH

→ user5 omg wait it was probably an accident. like why else would we be finding out through HIS instagram → user6 this is crazy...

user7 MOTHER AND FATHER

user8 THEY'RE DATING THEY'RE DATING THEY'RE DATING

user9 stop this is the cutest thing ever

[cariño = sweetheart, mi amor = my love]

pepemartiofficial has posted

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and others

tagged: yourusername

pepemartiofficial well, secret’s out now

yourusername te amo mucho ❤️❤️❤️ [i love you so much] → pepemartiofficial te quiero más [i love you more] → yourusername eso no es posible [that's not possible] → user1 IM CRYING THEY'RE TOO CUTE

christian.mansell low key glad i made this mistake

→ pepemartiofficial i'm still not letting that go mate

gabyprentice_ omg favorite couple

user2 i'm so obsessed with them

user3 THEY'RE SO ADORABLE STOP

user4 AHHHHHHHHHHH

user5 i don't even know how to process this

→ user6 ikkkk and the fact that it was CHRISTIAN who hard launched them??? 😭😭😭😭😭

user7 MY Spanish royal family

user8 NOOO MY CHANCES ARE RUINED WITH PEPE

→ user9 girl, what chances

user10 they're meant for each other

user11 mother and father

user12 we all have to admit, he's so much hotter than her

→ user 13 ummm, who's we???

yourusername just posted

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and others

tagged: pepemartiofficial

yourusername christian cannot keep his mouth shut

christian.mansell oopsies!!!

pepemartiofficial i'm the luckiest man alive

→ yourusername te amo con todo mi corazón [i love you with my whole heart] → user1 ugh i want a love like theirs

gabyprentice_ cuties

→ yourusername not as cute as you 😏😏😏😏 → user2 still team y/n and gaby!!!

user3 so so so insanely obsessed with them

camposracing glad to have contributed to this love story

user 4 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!!!!!

user5 it couple

user6 how did she even pull him???

→ pepemartiofficial open your eyes??? → user7 AHHHHH → user8 OMG HE'S DEFENDING HER

user9 god, i'm so lonely

user10 DREAM COUPLE

user11 the cutest ever

user12 PEPE I CAN FIGHT

user13 in LOVE with this

user14 i'm sorry for ever doubting this couple's existence

f2gossip just posted

liked by f1 gossip, user1 and others

tagged: yourusername, pepemartiofficial

f2gossip our new happy couple, pepe marti and y/n l/n, spotted kissing at a restaurant in barcelona

user1 DAMNNNNN OKAYYYY

user2 they really said HARD LAUNCH

user2 guess they're done hiding it 😂😂😂😂

user3 they’re actually perfect together 😩

user4 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

user5 they're so iconic

user6 the cutest

user7 still can’t believe they’re together 😍😍😍😍

user8 wow, was not expecting them to be making out in public THIS fast

→ user9 to be fair, I would be doing the same thing if I was y/n

a/n: ahhhh!!! I hope you guys liked it!! this is my first ever smau, so i worked really hard. please let me know if you have any suggestions or feedback. send in any requests you have for my next piece!!

✩₊˚.⋆ all work belongs to formulaisa. please don’t modify, translate, or share my writing, and don’t feed it to AI.

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[posting-for-the-void]

So a lot of twins claim to have a sort of twintuition thing where they understand each other easily and often without words, and sometimes have high-level empathetic reactions to things that are happening to the other twin, even if they don’t know what’s happening to the other twin because they are in different locations at the time. There’s obviously not a lot of scientific evidence to back it up, but, eh. It’s a cool concept.

But what if, for the Skywalker twins, the force just ramped that up to 100.

Fic-ish thing below the cut.

Five-year-old Luke is learning the Tatooine slave language. After all, Aunt Beru used to be Beru Whitesun, before she married Uncle Owen, and his mom was Grandma Shmi, who used to be a Skywalker before she married Uncle Owen’s dad. Beru helps the recently-escaped hide in the secret compartment in the wall of their house more often than Owen does, but he claims it’s for plausible deniability, whatever that means. Leia, on Alderaan, begins mixing the harsh, clicking language with Basic subconsciously, but only when talking to herself in private. After all, she is a princess, and they must choose their words carefully in front of others.

Leia at age ten argues with her cousin about whether droids deserve respect, and across the galaxy, Luke is absolutely overcome with the need to thank every single droid he’s ever met for helping him with anything (he did this anyways before but for some reason he has to do it again Right Now).

Luke gets to drive a speeder by himself for the first time at 13 and Leia is practically begging for someone to take her out in a hovercar and go as fast as possible. And if that can’t happen she’s going to get the space equivalent of a Formula One racing sim, goddamnit.

Seventeen-year-old Junior Senator Leia’s heart skips a beat every time someone mentions Tatooine. She isn’t sure why. Obi-Wan lives there, yes, but something in her just knows that isn’t the real reason. Luke, meanwhile, yearns to see the galaxy, and often finds himself outside at night, staring at the sky. His eyes, for as long as he can remember, have always felt drawn towards a specific star. He asked Uncle Owen about it once when he was younger, and he gruffly explained that it was the Alderaan system. He feels like there’s something there, waiting for him. He’s not sure why.

And then they meet in person, and it’s “You’re a little short for a Stormtroope—Luke?”

“Leia?”

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, you idiot. You’re my twin brother. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks, Leia. You know, I had the weirdest dreams when I was ten about you and Old Ben.”

“Oh, yeah, that was actually real. I got kidnapped.”

“Cool.”

“Is it true you got nicknamed ‘Wormie’ by your friends?”

“…Yeah.”

And Han is so confused, but it’s fine, and within two hours their conversations are more like, “Hey, Leia, could you pass me the—“

“Yeah, do want the green one or the—“

“No, the blue one, probably. I need it to—“

“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense.”

And then Yoda tries to do the whole “Attached, you are,” routine, and Luke is like, “Well, duh. I’m only here so I can teach Leia everything I learn as soon as I get back. I’m just a pilot, which is a lot more replaceable than a princess, so we thought it would be best if I come learn from you instead of her.”

And meanwhile Leia is a lot stronger in the force now, and she meets Vader again and just goes, “Darth Dad, what the actual fuck,” under her breath in the Tatooine slave language, and the hint of Anakin that’s left absolutely freezes. Because Palpatine—Sideous—whatever, he said his kid was dead. He said that Padme died and the kid did too. He lied. And, when he meets Luke later, and he says the same Sithspitting thing, Anakin gets so thrown he accidentally cuts the kid’s hand off. Luke falls, and the shock of it in the force is so strong, and Anakin’s eyes flash blue in grief and love and hope, all at once, and all of the sudden he can think clearly for the first time in years. And his kids’—his kids!—bond in the force is so strong, how did he not notice it before?

And, anyways, I just feel like Skywalker Twintuition would be on a completely other and incomprehensible level.

[beabnormal24]

Quick Carbon wip just got inspired and wanted to write it.

“George.” Alex hisses, pressing his phone against his cheek until he’s sure he could mold into it.

He can still feel his heart racing from the run he had made up the stairs. He hasn’t really gone to the gym in a while, so it could be that, or maybe it’s just the way his brain had felt like melting out of his ears when he had laid eyes on the labelled boxes in the hall, first, and a muscular back near the doorman box, after.

“Alexander.” George hisses back, “why are we whispering?”

“Carlos Sainz, George.” Alex says, just before realising that, probably, saying a name without putting it in a properly complete sentence doesn’t make any logical sense. “I just- I just saw him- in the hall- fuck”

“Did you run up the stairs?” George asks, sounding way too amused. “I told you, you should take your working out more seriously at your age. Again, I can talk with Rita and find a spot for you in my morning Pilates classes, they would do you only good I am sure.”

“George, Carlos Sainz, in my- in my building.” Alex repeats, frantically looking for his keys in the utter mess of his jacket’s pockets.

He was pretty sure he was already holding them as he got in the hall, but then they seemed to disappear just as he was getting up the stairs, skipping the elevator because he surely wouldn’t stay there with Carlos Sainz just a few feet away.

Perhaps he just mechanically put them back in his pocket, he wouldn’t put it past himself after seeing Carlos freaking Sainz in the same place as himself. Talking to Alex’s doorman, of all people.

“Ah, I see, I see.” George says slowly, “But weren’t you watching him playing in San Diego just, like, a few days ago? Ah these rich people and their private jets, our poor sustainability!”

“It was last week, George.” Alex says, moving his phone to the other shoulder as he gets both his hands finally free. “Do you really not listen to me at all when I talk about golf?”

George is suspiciously silent for a second too long. “Eh, no.” He says, sincerely. “That being said. I don’t see the big deal with him being in the same building as you. You’re obsessed with the guy, just make sure to not act weird and all.”

“Weird?” Alex whispers, but it almost sounds like a screech to his own ears. “Yeah, no, I am perfectly normal about this what are you saying?”

“I can literally hear your brain exploding from here.”

“Shut up.”

“You called me.”

“And I am regretting it very much.” Alex says, stuffing his hand in the back pocket of his jeans just to come out, once again, empty handed. God, why does this have to happen now of all times? He is in desperate need of a coffee and, even better, a long cold shower to properly wrap around what he just saw. “Ah, my keys-“

There’s a tap on his shoulder and the only reason why Alex manages to not jump out of his skin is that he’s way too distracted with something like avoiding having to change all his locks because of his own idiocy.

As he turns around ready to tell somebody off, though, he desperately wishes his soul had actually made the jump.

“Looking for these?” Carlos Sainz says, dangling Alex’s keys in front of his face with a smirk. Distantly, Alex is pretty sure his phone just fell to the ground. “You dropped them in the hall, I can see it’s an habit.” Carlos Sainz jokes.

Because, as it stands, Carlos Sainz is in front of him making a joke about how Alex seems to have an habit of dropping his personal stuff around like an idiot.

Which is precisely the best and worst thing that could ever possibly happen to him.

In a remote part of his barely functioning brain, Alex knows that he should probably laugh to not look like a complete weirdo - which is exactly what George had advised him of, amazing.

But all that actually manages to come out of his mouth is just a strangled noise as his mind goes through two things, not necessarily in that order: fuck he is hotter than on TV and fuck he is shorter than I thought.

“Is everything-“

“Yes!” Alex rushes to say, taking the offered keys out of Carlos’ hands before remembering that he has been raised with manners. “Thank you, I am- a bit distracted yes.”

“That’s okay.” Carlos says, reassuring. His smile is almost blinding, way too gentle than it should be when offered to, well, a complete stranger.

Alex can’t exactly miss the way Carlos’ eyes seem to take in the sight of him, raking from the top of his head to the worn points of his Converse. He probably looks ridiculous compared to the well-put and squeaky clean shoes on Carlos’ feet, but in his defence, they don’t have a dressing code at work, and he is no professional golfer.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, new neighbour.” Carlos says, and when his eyes meet Alex’s there’s a glint in them he can’t exactly decipher. “I am Carlos Sainz, but I seemed to notice you already know that.”

Oh.

Alex is fucked.