#otherwise its way more of an upgrade over my old one

[ethosiab]

Wow. It's weird to use a phone screen that's not putting tiny shards of glass in my thumbs.

[ganondoodle]

( totk rant?)

i have talked alot about my problems with totk in detail, as most of you probably know by now- but there really is a vibe of big ambitions but then not committing to it throughout the game

they want to have that building mechanic in it no matter what in a world that isnt in any way build around it, mister "freedom = good, linear = bad" guy wanting to give you ultimate freedom in the game (which imo leads to it being nothing again) but not committing to it and it creates a really toxic loop of things being more punishing than rewarding

you can build a fuckton of weird vehicles, but big parts, ESPECIALLY the glider, is on limited time so you cant actually go anywhere you want; they know giving you absolut freedom will remove any possible challenge- so they limit it by making the glider part timed, but then they cant do that for every single part bc it would be almost impossible to create anything that works well when every part is on a timer and you dont know how much of its lifespan is left bc you accidentally hit a fan once so now its uneven with the other one AND the more parts you have the more it uses battery, it makes sense, so you cant build soemthign super overpowered right at the start and its just kinda logical, but it leads to you being incentivised to build something with the fewest parts that dont have a timer-

then theres the battery power, which they try to limit by putting its upgrades behind multiple different currency exchanges, which is frustrating and leads to alot of grinding and gets overpowered really fast (it works against itself too that said currencies are all placed in the most undeveleoped and repetetive area of the game and are all never involved in anything interesting, its reused old enemy camps and the same mines everywhere, theres not a single reward in the underground that actually feels rewarding imo)

then you get the autobuild thing, so you can skip the building part of the building mechanic that is the main selling point of tha darn game, bc they know it can get frustrating to rebuild your things over and over so they give you a skip button for that if you are one of those players that doesnt like it BUT THEN they cant jsut let you do it for free so they give it a price, either spend the same currency you need for the exchange for the one you need for battery upgrades or spend parts you collected- both of which are things players generally save up and refuse to use (like the -never use any health potions bc what if i need it more at some point- thing is a problem for a reason)

then theres the added thing of the building stuff despawning incredibly quickly, im gonna guess its otherwise a performance problem (that the game is already struggling hard with) but it makes the entire already bad loop of trying to fix a problem with bandaids over and over even worse, you dont want to go too far away from your vehicles bc it will despawn and waste all that you used to build it, its like a leash to you stopping you from actually using it for more freedom- and potentially adds another annyoance bc you might try to bring it with you as far as you can, a monster truck in the depths you spend all your parts on gets stuck on the first bits of terrain you run into and you desperately try to get it out without destroying it, and if you cant you need to spend a ton of resources to build it again, even with autobuild

which is how you get the hoverbike, stupidly overpowered and boring but doing anything else is just less efficient in every way, it uses the least amount of battery, never breaks, is only 3 parts to rebuild

(i know me in particular doesnt enjoy the building in totk at all, for all those reasons and more ...... shiekah ........ and i know you CAN still choose to doing it more creatively, but you never need to, its entirely based around YOU making it fun for yourself, and i dont think its that controverisal to say a game should be fun and challenging without you having to create all the fun yourself and set yourself limit it all yourself)

similar goes for the dungeons, they heard you want the dungeons of old times back, but their strict adherance to freedom (which they themsleves contradict) leads to them being more breakable and less dungeony than even the titans in botw, they cant make it linear, thats BAD, so you can do any puzzle in any order, it cant build on any of the others bc you need to be able to do it when you want (the only one going slightly against that is the lightning one? maybe?), totks dungeons dont even limit that you cant climb them (even the titans in botw recognized that makign it easy to break so they are made of the same unclimbable material like the shrines and other shiekah tech) and the new abilities make them laughably easy to break ( .. im not even gonna mention the water temple one bc ... you dont even need to do anything there to break it to make it easier)

they wanted to cater to people wanting old dungeons, but didnt commit to it, making them WORSE dungeons than the titans with the only bonus being they got different designs and a longer build up to it (that often feels more like artificial filler than actually part of it ... like the missing lore tablet at the zoras and the missing part is a few steps away from it at best)

(ALL THE WHILE they DO limit you in SHRINES, you cant climb the walls again, for some reason, you can climb any other sonau structure though, why not that? idk, but dont limit it enough either bc you can break it all in really cheap and unsatisfying ways with ultrahand and time reversal alone- and they CANT limit those bc those abilities are the main ways to solve the 'puzzles'- botws abilities were .. well, limited in what they could do making them much more balanced, but moving sth with ultrahand and then stepping on it and time reversing it can be the boring solution to any 'puzzle', the best and only really good shrines are the ones that take all you shit bc it wactually forces you to be creative BC ITS LIMITING YOU)

(funnily enough a big possible reason why they removed the bombs from botw is bc of the glitches with it ...... like the new stuff isnt even worse and you dont even have to try lol)

people speculated on there being underground exploration due to the first trailer? people are worried about reusing the surface? ok they put the entirety of the surface map into the game again, but dont commit to it being a full thing, its horribly underdeveloped and filled with either nothing or reused filler material, while also neglecting changing anything substantial about the surface, and then the sky isalnds they even reduced and really there isnt anything of substance on there either besides the tutorial (hey, seriously, if one of botws most defining feature is its wide and empty sky why the hell would you decide to use that same map to put in your sky islands idea in), not commiting to one idea but doing all of them badly

ganondorf? well, they sure put him in there, but really what does he do? fuck all, the entire actual game hes jsut marinating in his own miasma juice for no reason, he doesnt have any presecne in the game, all he gets its a few scenes in the "story" that are told through memory cutscenes in a stupidly mega distant past i dont give a fuck about and all he does is go through the most stereotypical villain checklist of both actions and speech, they want ganondorf in there but dont commit to him ACTUALLY being there (listen i love ganondorf but really calamtiy ganon was more interesting than totk ganondorf ok im SORRY they did him so dirty)

they want dragon zelda and link 'losing' his arm be a big epic sacrifice but then .. again, dont commit to it, they tell you its oooh so irreversible and whatever and then at the end just fukcing reverse it, with no build up at all, and NONE of your own input, it just happens, and its not JUST zelda but also links arm, reversing it BOTH even and you dont even need to have all shrines (that are supposedly to cleanse your arm of miasma, i guess thats a non problem if you just stab the source of it to death instead)

they want it to be a sequel but also its own game, not committing to either and leaving us with this weird .... more alternative universe thing, vague references to botw but also acting like it never happened, slight changes, like zeldas hair, to make her seem different when shes exactly the same (you cant imply waifu zelda would ever age and not look like a little doll) and ignoring anything about her character from botw (no im serious, ooh shes nerdy for 3 minutes at the start and one time in a written thing from some servant of da royals in the past and thats it, interest in the shiekah? whos shiekah?- if anything her character is reversed, really having even less agency than in botw, that one decision to dragon is like, it really doesnt matter and not really her decision bc she didnt have a choice and it gets reversed anyway without her even remembering)

even retreading all of botws points (but doing it worse imo), but then attempting to differentiate itself from it by removing a big thing that made it what it is (shiekah) without giving it any or any sensible explanation among more, not committing to either sequel or AU and so doing both incredibly badly

(not quite the point but what i have been questioning for a while ... they way raurus abilities work ... so do all sonau have those? was it just a normal thing to have? could all sonau just glue shit together and jump through ceilings? he never uses anything of that when we see him? why is it just in the shrines at the start and its like .. he just gives it to you ...?? huh??is it part of his arm .. jewelry??)

(anyway, tin foil hat moment but it just feels like either there was a huge internal fight about everything or they neglected it in favor for something else, like say, a movie that earns them billions and is faster and cheaper to make than a game... or just dont care anymore i guess, idk which is worse tbh)

[ss-2dplatformer]

Research Time!!!

Today, I am researching characters in different and identifying what makes each one different. Additionally, I could see if there is anything I might take away from this and implement into my own game.

Super Meat Boy:

There seems to be a unique gameplay style, although it reminds me a lot of Celeste (though this game released first.) What seems to be happening is your character is this red cube with a face and you have to make it past obstacles, whether it be getting over walls, avoiding falling into pits or not getting killed by spikes. Once the character is in midair, I'm noticing that there doesn't seem to be much friction in the way that you keep your momentum from before you jumped and continue speeding up until you touch the ground. It seems that rather than coming to a full stop, you continue to slide so you can even bunnyhop or continue moving at the exact same speed. This is interesting as it allows for you to perform quite interesting jumps and moves that you wouldn't be able to otherwise. This includes being able to wall jump upwards with only one wall and still make progress. That is different to how Celeste is made in which (and the developer probably looked at Super Meat Boy) it is impossible to climb up a singular wall and it requires two parallel walls to ascend.

This could be useful in my game as the sliding and lack of friction loss could then allow for more skilled jumps by using your momentum in just the correct way.

Castle Crashers:

Here you seem to be one of four knights. You're in a sort of 3D space where your character can move up and down as well as left and right, though the world is still fixed to the level only moving in one direction only meaning it's still technically 2D. Each knight seems to attack in the same way but then have some form of special secondary move which changes depending on who you play as. Besides that, it seems to be a regular complete level, kill enemies, upgrade weapon sort of game. It would be interesting if I could emulate that in some way in my own game, with the way the characters can still technically move in all four directions with the game still being 2D. I know this is done with perspective and different layers with the map being one flat plane that just slopes upwards but it is very neat.

Minit:

Minit is a game with only two colors of black and white, with an 8 bit design, giving the impression that it's an old game while only releasing in April of 2018. You control this duck looking thing (I am not too sure but I like its design) and have to travel around doing various tasks with only a 60 second time limit, hence the name of the game I'm assuming. I like the idea of how you are limited to one inventory slot, that being whatever you see your character holding, which is a very interesting concept. Additionally, as you progress you get more items to get even further such as more hearts or items unlocked as you complete quests through your many minute long runs. The interesting part is that your progress is saved, even when you die. Of course you respawn where you started, and the locations of your picked up items reset to their spawnpoint, but the quests you have completed and what you have to do next stay the same.

I could maybe use this in some way in my own game where you dying allows you to keep your coins but you have to restart from the very beginning and are not allowed to pick up repeated coins. Though this would be very difficult and I do not have the technical prowess to do that.

[not-radioshack]

The S3 ViRGE Minecraft Thing

(Article originally posted on TheRetroWeb)

Have you ever wanted to play Minecraft? Have you ever wondered “how terrible can I make this experience”? No? Well too bad. You’ve clicked on this article and I’ve gone this far already, so let’s just keep going and see what happens.

A Little bit of history…

The S3 ViRGE, short for Video and Rendering Graphics Engine (alternately, Virtual Reality Graphics Engine), was first introduced in November of 1995, with an actual release date of early 1996. It was S3 Graphics’ very first 3D-capable graphics card, and it had the unfortunate luck of launching alongside… the 3Dfx Voodoo 1.

It became rather quickly apparent that the ViRGE was terribly insufficient in comparison to the Voodoo, and in fact even picked up the infamous moniker of “graphics decelerator”, which poked fun at its lackluster 3D performance.

The original ViRGE would be followed by the card that this article focuses on, the ViRGE/DX, just a little under a year later in the waning months of 1996.

The ViRGE/DX was a welcome improvement over the original release, lifting performance to more acceptable levels and improving software compatibility with better drivers. Mostly. And while native Direct3D performance was iffy at best and OpenGL support was nonexistent, S3 did have one last trick up their sleeves to keep the ViRGE line relevant: the S3D Toolkit.

Similar to 3Dfx’s Glide API, the S3D Toolkit was S3 Graphics’ proprietary low-level graphics API for the ViRGE. Unlike 3Dfx’s offering, however, S3D, much like the cards it was intended for, fell flat on its face. Only a small handful of games ever natively supported S3D acceleration, and by my own admission, I haven’t ever played any of them.

But wait, this article is about playing Minecraft on the ViRGE, isn’t it? The block game of all time is famously written in Java, and uses an OpenGL rendering pipeline. So, how can the S3 ViRGE, a card with no OpenGL support, possibly play Minecraft?

Wrappers!

This is where a little thing called “OpenGL wrappers” come in. Shipping in the form of plain OpenGL32.dll files (at least, on Windows) that you drop into a folder alongside whatever needs OpenGL acceleration, these wrappers provide a way to modify, or “wrap”, OpenGL API calls.

In our case, we are interested in the category of OpenGL wrappers that translate OpenGL API calls to that of other APIs. For a more modern equivalent of these wrappers, the Intel Arc line of graphics cards uses DXVK in order to translate older DirectX 9 calls to Vulkan, which is a natively-supported API.

For this experiment, we will be using a wrapper called “S3Mesa”, made by Brian Paul of the Mesa project. Though open-source, this wrapper never made it to a completed state, and is missing certain features such as texture transparency despite the ViRGE itself being supposedly capable of it. However, this does not affect gameplay much beyond aesthetics.

The S3Mesa wrapper, on a more technical note, translates OpenGL 1.1 calls to a mix of both S3D and DirectX API calls.

The System

At last, we arrive at the system hardware. As of writing, I am currently benchmarking a plethora of low-end (or otherwise infamous) cards for my “Ultra Nugget Graphics Card Roundup”, and so the system itself is likely a liiiiiittle bit overpowered for the lowly ViRGE/DX:

AMD Athlon XP (Palomino) @ 1.14GHz

Shuttle MK32 Socket A motherboard

256MB DDR-400

S3 ViRGE/DX (upgraded to 4MB of video memory)

Windows 98SE

Why Windows 98SE? Because S3 never released 3D-accelerated graphics drivers for non-Windows 9x operating systems in the consumer space.

For Minecraft itself, KernelEX 4.5.2 and Java 6 are installed as well, and an old version of the launcher dating back to early 2013 that I personally refer to as the “Minecraft 1.5 Launcher” is used for compatibility purposes. Also because no launcher that can work on Windows 98 is capable of logging into the authentication servers anymore.

Setting up the game

With Windows 98SE, KernelEX, and Java 6 installed (in that order, of course), we can turn our attention to the game itself. As mentioned before, no launcher to my knowledge that runs on Windows 98 is capable of logging into the auth servers. This results in two additional problems: starting the game itself and downloading game assets.

Using the 1.5 launcher solves this first issue by means of relying on a little thing called the lastlogin file. This is an old way that the launcher was able to allow players to keep playing offline when disconnected from the internet, but more importantly, unlike the modern launcher, it doesn’t expire. 🙂

And because of that, our login problem is solved by middle school me’s old .minecraft folder backup, from which I’ve extracted the lastlogin file for use in this experiment.

As for game assets, there is no longer any way to easily download the game files for use on Windows 98SE directly, and so I’ve instead pieced together a folder using that same backup. The most important thing is that instead there being a “versions” folder, there is now instead a “bin” folder, where both the natives and the game’s jarfile both reside.

Now that our .minecraft folder is acquired, take that thing and plot it right down into the Windows folder in Windows 98. Why? Because on Windows 98, the 1.5 launcher ignores the “application data” folder entirely. The launcher itself can go anywhere you’d like, so long as you’re using the .exe version and not the .jar version.

Finally, to wrap things up, place the OpenGL to S3D wrapper in the same location as the launcher exe. Make sure it’s called OpenGL32.dll!

The Game

You just lost it. 🙂

The S3 ViRGE, by my own testing, is capable of running any version of Minecraft from Classic up to and including Indev version in-20100110. However, it is EXTREMELY unstable, and has a tendency to crash mere seconds after loading into a world. This is on top of some minor rendering errors introduced by the aformentioned incomplete state of the S3Mesa wrapper. This video was recorded with Windows ME rather than Windows 98, but this does not impact anything regarding performance or compatibility (and in fact, at least from my own experience, the game is more stable under ME than 98).

Below are the desktop/game settings used in testing:

“Tiny” render distance

Desktop resolution: 640 x 480 (don’t fullscreen the game)

Bit depth: 16/24-bit color (32-bit can cause the ViRGE to run out of memory, and 16-bit can cause strange issues on Windows 98)

And last but not least, some gameplay. This came from some scrapped footage originally intended for my “UNGCR” video, and was only intended for personal reference in collecting performance numbers. As such, the audio is muted due to some copyrighted music blasting in the background.

Further reading/resources

Vogons Wrapper Project

Original video that this article is based on

VGA Legacy MKIII’s ViRGE/DX page

thanks for reading my walking natural disaster of an article kthxbaiiiiiiii

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

The Concierge Delivers (Part 20)

The drive back through the City and to the Hotel is blissfully uneventful. Your eyes are heavy, threatening to close now that you are stationary and seated. It’s been a long two days. Your body is begging you to rest, to stop and recover. 

Ah, but not yet. It’s not safe yet. 

Your valet is a seasoned driver, but most importantly, knows the City and its surrounds like the back of his hand. His eyes are sharp, his senses keen, and you know that between you and him, you’d get back to the Hotel in one piece. 

In the back, Toriel is quiet. Her hand smooths over the ruffled fur at her neck, zips up her skirt. She seems restless. As one rightfully would be, considering the bounty on her head. Which then begs the question of who put it there...

Slipping your phone out, you fire off a message to an unsaved number. Best to find out who wanted the former Queen dead. For knowledge’s sake, you reason with yourself. Definitely not because you want to have the answer in case you are asked. And definitely not because Frisk or Sans would want to know. 

Before long, the valet turns onto the street leading up to the Hotel. In the heart of a bustling area just off the centre of the City, the Continental has a charming mix of mysterious old-world architecture with modern upgrades. Eye-catching. Luxurious. 

As the car draws closer, you check yourself. Hair, face, clothes, gloves. There is a spatter of crimson on your neck - that is wiped away by a pale handkerchief. More on your wrists. That is wiped away too. Your hair is slightly mussed, fixed in short order with a series of habitual moves. With your gun holstered and your clean gloves straightened, you look as you always did. 

Though perhaps smelling like iron and copper. Good thing the valet keeps a bottle of subtle perfume in the glove box, which you take and spritz on yourself in a light mist. Just enough to mask the smell long enough that you can have a shower and change.

Toriel had been spared much of the fallout of fighting in close quarters, but still looked worse for wear. She sees you straightening your clothes, then the building looming at the end of the street, and takes in a deep breath. “Can we go through the back entrance, please?” That regal set to her shoulders returns, along with her firm tone. 

With a look to your valet, who nods, you turn your head enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “Of course, Miss Toriel.”

Past the front door, down to the carpark, and then to the staff entrance. Your legs and back creak as you get out, but you pay it no mind in order to open the back door for the former Queen. As she unfurls herself from inside the car and straightens with a wince, you are glad you asked for one of the wider, bigger cars; she would struggle otherwise.

“If you will follow me, Miss Toriel,” you say evenly, “The Manager is expecting you.” 

“And my child?” She interjects before you can walk off. “Where are they?”

You tilt your head.

“I want to see them before the Manager.” Then she pauses. “Please.”

A slight frown crosses your face. In your mind, the Manager has priority over Frisk, but at the same time, you don’t suppose this is an unreasonable request. 

Then, your phone rings. That ringtone belongs to only one person.

“Please excuse me for one moment, Miss Toriel.” You politely turn your head away to pick up the phone. “Ma’am.”

“My Heart. I have some guests over for tea time, could you please let Miss Toriel know to expect company?” 

Well, you should have expected that. “Of course, ma’am.” You hang up.

Toriel seems to have closed her ears to your conversation by the way she looks to the side, seemingly examining the private lift lobby. She perks up as you turn to her, looking for all the world like a normal schoolteacher.

The phone disappears into a pocket, your hands fold before your belly, and you look up at her. “The Manager wishes me to inform you that she has company, and that she would like you to join her for tea time.” 

Toriel reads between the lines. Her eyes brighten, her shoulders lift. Then she nods resolutely, trying to rein in her reaction. “Then lead the way.”

Like with Asgore, the lift seems so much smaller with Toriel inside it with her. Though the female goat monster is slighter, narrower of build than the King, you find yourself standing a little closer to the buttons than you normally would to avoid being in her space. Or to keep her out of yours. 

At last, the elevator dings and you open the cage doors, admitting you to a luxurious suite. You guide Toriel through the entryway, into the sitting room, where you stop just inside it, stepping to the side so Toriel can enter. With your hands folded over your belly, you incline your head to the table’s occupants. “Miss Toriel has arrived.”

The dull scratch of chair legs against luxurious rug, then the quick shuffle of footsteps. Toriel gasps, drops to her knees. 

“My child!” Toriel breathes out wetly, her arms opening to the sides to let Frisk fly into her arms. 

Frisk is quiet save for their soft, quick breaths, their hands occupied with clinging to Toriel’s neck and shoulders. Their fingers brush past the bare ring of skin around the former Queen’s neck and they freeze. 

You can see their mouth move. And for the first time since you’ve known them, they speak. “Who?” Their voice is more mellow than you’d expect from a ten year old. More mellow and entirely filled with fury. 

Toriel seems reluctant to answer. And luckily for her, she’s saved by the Manager herself.

“Miss Toriel, please have a seat,” she waves to an open chair beside Frisk’s abandoned one, a cup of tea in her other hand. And in the last open seat at the table for four? 

“Jeez sweetheart, someone gave you a ruff time, huh?” For someone who had nearly been killed the night before, Sans looks more put together than he normally does. His tie done up right, his jacket in place, his shirt neatly pressed. You suppose he needs to look neat in front of the Manager, Frisk and the former Queen.

And his teeth--

Gold gleams and glints in his mouth, the knocked out tooth replaced by one of gold. On anyone else, it would have been tacky. But on Sans? It fits him. It fits him well...very well.

You sigh through your nose, a silent exhale for all that it was long. It’s because you don’t want to link his pun with the knock knock joke from earlier. It’s definitely not because you need to take a moment not to look him up and down. Why does he clean up so well? And why is he looking at you like that? Like he likes what he sees?

“Mister Sans,” you level a dry look at him at last, which only makes him grin wider. 

In the time you spend staring at--no, noticing Sans, both Toriel and Frisk had gotten up and come back to the table. The Manager nods at you fondly, her eyes flicking to the stain on your cuff. “Did you have a good stroll, my Heart?”

You struggle to keep your expression neutral. “Yes, ma’am. Though I should visit the gym more often.”

She laughs, a light sound. “I’m sure you gave them all a run for their money. I missed quite the show.”

Quite literally.

Her eyes twinkle, as if she knows the carnage you left behind. Sans just looks at her, then at you. At the faint red smudge on the cuff of your shirt, peeking out from under the dark cuff of your coat. 

You’re glad that the Manager is looking at Toriel and Frisk rather than at Sans, because the look that crosses the skeleton’s face is nothing less than pure hunger. 

His glowing red tongue flicks out to run over his teeth, leaving a wet sheen over the new gold tooth. You can’t deny that it catches your eye, or that you might be looking at him for longer than is proper. You...you might need another nap. These thoughts are getting out of hand.

“Do you require anything further, ma’am?” You direct your question to the Manager, who will know what it is you are asking.

The woman flicks her eyes to you, halfway through pushing a plate of sweets and pastries to the former Queen. “Nothing further, my Heart. Please go and rest, you’ve had a very long day.”

A very long two days, really.

You fold your hands over your belly and bow. “Good day, ma’am. Miss Toriel, Mx Frisk. Mister Sans.”

When you say his name, the smartly dressed skeleton rises, his hat in hand. “I’ll walk ya down, sweetheart,” he winks at you. “These folks don’t need me for this conversation.”

While Toriel looks at him strangely, Frisk only smiles a devious smile. I agree. I’ll give you the down-low later.

Sans salutes with a finger. “Thanks, kid.” Then to you, he waves his hat and strides past. 

The urge to sigh is great. Instead, you turn and give the Manager a look. One that she returns with a laugh stifled behind a hand. Not helpful. She mouths one word to you mockingly, ‘sweetheart’ and you fight the downturn of your lips. Supremely not helpful.

“Sweetheart, ya comin’?”

May the stars strike you down. 

[oceanic-recollection]

how do you make or rewrite pearls?

<FS> youd never guess, but they're actually two separate processes...

<FS> or, three since I think you mean "write on" and not just "make".... eh.

<FS> might as well tell you everything i remember...

<FS> making pearls is a pretty easy process with the right tools. you gather enough carbon - you can take some from a few different types of slag if you're out - and either put it through a printer, or crush it, in a specific type of way that gives it a latticed shape. if you're using a printer, you'll have to put the lattices together so it forms a pearl.

<FS> writing is a bit more tricky. you can, for one, put it through a machine - that can be us, or a factory machine - that's able to access the interior of the pearl without damaging any part of it or otherwise opening it, and let us or that factory machine shift and carve the molecular structure to store data.

<FS> for two, you can carve the outside with specialized claws, like the ones some of my group have. they usually aren't connected to your body like ours are... just one of the many perks being so easily modified brings

<FS> although we can only really write on the outside, with our claws...

<FS> this is a good time to mention how pearls're read, actually.. the specific way that the lattices are carved is actually written in a coding language, the same language that the majority of iterators were written in. since it's the same, it's basically our mother tongue, and you might notice us slip into it if something's seriously wrong - although verbally that'll just show up as terrifying screaming.

<FS> since the ancients were, for the most part, not robots - although a lot were legally considered cyborgs - they needed to train themselves in order to read the internal lattice. even ignoring the need to know the coding language, the carvings are so minuscule it was nearly impossible for it to be read by most, so there were purposed organisms and small machines created to read out pearls, either by swallowing or scanning them...

<FS> bit off-topic... oops.

<FS> on-topic again.

<FS> rewriting means smoothing over the original content in the pearl, reconstructing the lattice to its original form and remaking it to say what you want. this process only takes a few seconds for us, but can take hours or days to do by hand... not to mention it slowly degrades the quality of the pearl, making it more likely to not be able to retain any of the data you give it.

<FS> 'remastering' a pearl - for lack of a better term - is different, since you're just recarving the data exactly the way it was, sometimes with even more materials than initially used if it's particularly old and needs an upgrade. yes there are multiple 'models' of pearls... though there isn't any real difference besides how precise they're made and how long they can retain the data they have.

<FS> aaaaaaand, that should be everything~

<FS> thanks for the question, hope this was interesting to you.

[sinkableruby]

7, 12, 21, 22

gaming time

7. A series you’ve lost interest in?

oh actually uhhh. minecraft i cant play it anymore its either i try to focus on the building and i run out of materials and i have to go into caves which are prettier now but they're still caves and each trip is a trek or it feels like a trek in my mind and its like actual chores but like not in a fun animal crossing way in a shitty real life way and you have to KEEP GOING BACK and no matter where i put my house i am never satisfied with it and even if i go creative mode and do nice builds that gets old pretty quickly and man i just cant deal with it anymore.

also terraria is better lol

12. Do you prefer ‘blank slate’ main characters you make yourself or otherwise project onto, or characters with a set personality and backstory?

stealing dis's answer it probably depends on what works for the game yeah. i love roleplaying a whole lot but i also love seeing other ppls characters. that being said, i wish there were more games that were open in some way to a roleplaying kind of thing. so if you want a straight answer, i'd go with that

21. A boss you think is really cool

oh theres plenty of these yeah i always love like hidden bosses that are really hard like sans, malenia, etc. the challenge is fun and its always cool to be overwhelmed with the difficulty like oh shit playtimes over monster hunter is cool bosses: the game, basically (sometimes annoying bosses but shhh we dont talk about those). odogaron and nergigante from world are my absolute favorites. the sheer Energy odogaron has when attacking you is insane. it's so fast and always just throwing things out, it feels like a dance when you're fighting. very cool and nergigante... nergigante has lots of presentation, but also its spikes are so fun to break, its rewarding. fighting that arch tempered solo was so cool. and of course you have the divebomb:

i love this so much, the person in this video is wearing upgraded armor and fighting a lower level nerg because that move WILL kill you instantly, like always. and the hitbox is HUGE it's ridiculously big. i mean you can see how big it is in that video (that person isn't dodging it right most of the time). but the spectacle of it is so cool too. it roars and spreads its wings like that and you KNOW something big's coming. and you feel that note of panic every time, even when youre used to the fight. its so fun. maybe this appreciation of the unforgiving is why i like malenia (and that bullshit move she does) and sans too lol also shoutout to ftl's final boss (i am so bad at that game) and etg's dragun. also also, shoutout to touhou (all of it). also shoutout to elden ring's elden guy (that is definitely not what its called) big elebit. elden... whatever. it looks so cool :) and the fight is really fun to try no-hitting more emotional wise shoutout to omori's final boss. no spoilers but that one is so powerful and very well executed. omori has great bosses like that that impact you. another one i really like, maybe even more, is the one where this music plays:

it just screams hurt and betrayal (and the fight does too!) and you can just Feel it. and the aftermath of that fight is heartbreaking

22: A boss that was disappointing

oh starbound is perfect for this one. the game is so nice with its cosmetic and customization, and me and my friends were really enjoying it, but the enemies and encounters and bosses in this game were just. not. good. because you could overlevel (idr if level was actually a part of that game, but there was like higher level equipment and stuff) but the bosses werent like matched to your level or anything they just stayed the same level. so you could easily overlevel without knowing it (you might even think ur preparing a reasonable amount, certainly felt that way to us) and when the whole world is filled with nothing but shit thats easy to kill and a boss that's pathetic its like. ah. time to customize a bit more and then the fun is done. kinda kills the hype yk. if it had better fights that game would genuinely be awesome

[sekhithefops]

7 Days to Die Alpha 21

So, its a safe thing to say that outside of the high fantasy madness that is Azeroth one of my other favorite games is the eternally-in-alpha 7 Days to Die which is still early access but will be turning ten years old this December... and yet I can't stop playing the thing. o_o

At current time of writing I've got 445 hours clocked on this yippin' game. Thats outdoing most any Triple-A releases lately, and its just an eternally early access indie title so... yeah. Bit of a favorite to say the least.

Well, they recently released Alpha 21, which did a bunch of overhauls for the game, and I'm here to show off exactly what I noticed, what I liked, and as a veteran of the Zombie Apocalypse give a few fun hot tips for the new ruined world we'll all be blowing up slackjaws in.

Graphical Upgrades!

This is a minor thing, but it really shows just how much love is going into this game from the devs that they went out of their way to update stuff this inconsequential.

Its a bit hard to see, this is an older screenshot, but those two things to the right there are what forges used to look like before. Just small little mounds of dirt.

This is what the forges look like now. Much more detailed and attractive looking (though don't ask me how the heck we made these without any proper masonry or woodworking gear) but much nicer and more pleasing to the eye.

Also stations like the forge (for smelting metals and simple things like nails and such) and the campfire (for making most any kind of food) can get attachments to them. A bellows, crucible, and anvil for the forge and a grill, cooking pot, and measuring cup for the campfire. This has always been the case, but before you'd just clip them into their slots and that was it.

Now it actually changes how the stations look! Above is the campfire by itself, and below see how it looks with each individual addon.

Lastly, and this is one of the more fun ones... they updated the zombie deaths and how it looks when you take them down in certain ways. Before you could take their head off with a well timed shot, but now... and be warned these are a bit graphic, but its a zombie game so of course they are...

You can snap their necks so hard they almost fall off, you can bash the tops of their skulls open, you can even take their head off in such a degree as to leave their lower jawbone still attached and their tongue forever tasting the breeze which, as a former retail worker, I find just delightful.

... ye gods what is wrong with me.

The Dew Collector

Moving along from that train of thought, we've got this lovely little device.

Before, in order to get water you'd need to find a source of it, a pond or something, and fill a bunch of mason jars with fresh water, then haul it back home and boil them each individually into drinkable fluids. Time consuming and it meant you had to sacrifice some inventory space for the jars and that each drink you took left a fresh empty jar clogging it up as well. Also making new ones required glass which could be put to better uses such as windows or other devices.

These beauties take their place! The jars are no more, they're gone from the game entire.

Instead, the Dew Collectors fill up with water slowly over time, holding a maximum three drinks worth, and are always turned on. I recommend two of 'em per player, and you have to put them outside with clear view of the sky above them to get them to work right, but they're a very welcome change.

One small suggestion I'd make to the devs is that if its storming, they should fill up faster. I mean those things could catch rainwater. Maybe the rainwater needs to be boiled or something? Normally these things give clean water, but otherwise its a fun new thing.

Which leads into my next item on the agenda...

Crafting Skill Books

Along with the older bonus books we'd find across the world that give us things like the chance to find more lead or brass when looting, or learn how to mine better, or such... now we have these guys. Before you'd learn how to craft gear by leveling up the associated stat, i.e. to learn how to make guns you'd level up the Gunslinger stat and find specific skill books for the blueprints... but that caused problems.

For one, to be able to craft the highest level of a specific weapon you HAD to pour your points into it when you might want to put them into, say, a skill that made farming easier or a skill that let you have health regeneration.

Now, those same skills give you a bonus to damage, but also make it more likely that you'll find the specific weapons and ammo associated with it when searching through ruins in the game... and the magazines that give you skill points are yippin' everywhere.

Bit of advice early on, check mailboxes. Every mailbox you pass, stop and peek inside. Everyone was a magazine subscriber when the zombie apocalypse began it seems. You'll also find certain magazines in certain places more often than others.

Want to learn some new cooking tricks? Break into abandoned houses and find the kitchen! Cooking magazines will more often than not be there.

Want to learn new gun tricks? Gun shops not only have weapons, they likely sold magazines on guns too. I mean it makes sense when you think about it.

The Pop'n Pills Medical Centers have Medical Journals, the Mo' Power Electronics Shops will often have magazines about Robotics and Wiring... just use logic to find what you need really.

Also, these.

The Crack-A-Book Bookstores are goldmines now. Literally too. Those one-use-per-time skill books still exist, and the traders will pay good coin for those, so if you find one you've already read, save it and SELL it! The magazines you can grind like mad though. Most of them go up from 50 to 100 ranks until you hit mastery, so you'll be using them a lot.

But yeah, these are the three biggest ones I noticed since the new build went live at the beginning of this week, and I'm really having a blast so far. It changes up the mechanics considerably, but personally I feel its in a good way. It can make things a bit frustrating, you need to find five issues of Forge Ahead to make the forge itself, and ten to make a Workbench, so bad luck can still be an issue... but that was always true about the game.

If you haven't given this a go yet, don't let the seemingly endless Early Access scare you away. I've had more fun with this than I've had with Fallout 76 or any other one of the mainstream game companies attempts to ape whats popular.

ADDENDUM: One other thing I forgot that was changed. (I knew there'd be one.)

Running over zombies with your motorcycle or truck will kill them now. 100%. They will die and it will be awesome.

That being said, to compensate for your new ability to perform vehicular manslaughter, the vehicles take a LOT more damage now.

So yeah, thats a thing. A welcome thing as it never made sense how slamming through one of the undead with my jeep just had them flung over me to stumble back to their feet like nothing happened, but be ready to use up some repair kits keeping your bike in one piece.

[ms-demeanor]

So I've been working in a customer support job with computers since before the end of XP support. I've seen XP, Vista, Windows 7, and Windows 8 go out of support and we're already gearing up and trying to convince our customers to replace their Win10 systems before it goes out of support in October 2025.

Every single fucking time it is like pulling teeth.

When I started working at my current job (November 2011), I was a Mac user. I had only owned Macs and since high school I had mostly used Macs, though my parents had Windows PCs at home.

Getting a job at a Windows shop was jarring. I didn't like the way the file system worked, there were little functions in OSX that I'd come to rely on that just were not present in Windows (TBH I still miss the ability to go through a huge folder of photos and click on them one at a time and give them a color label with two clicks; it was SO MUCH more efficient for sorting photos).

It's a weird function of my ADHD and my job that I deal with emotional dysregulation with software more than with any other aspect of my life. There's nothing that will throw me into a rage faster than a program changing its menu layout. I *do not* do well learning new systems. I get really, really angry and I think the whole thing is stupid and I often end up sitting in front of the computer and silently crying in frustration.

So I get it when my customers don't want to say goodbye to their ten year old system and have to learn how to cope with a new OS that is scary and different (it is stunning to me that nobody at Microsoft seemed to understand this when Windows 8 was launched; the UX change was so drastic that people who would have otherwise been frustrated and grumpy about an update were instead *panicked*).

All of which is to say: if you are a non-computery type person, one of the better ways that you can future-proof *yourself* is to interact with as many types of software and as many operating systems as you can get your hands on.

If you've got an older, mostly-useless computer at home, don't e-waste it, install Linux on it. Install Linux on it and install a bunch of weird open source programs and just fuck around with it.

It's hard (and prohibitively expensive) to have three brand new computers with shiny new OSs, but it's cheap to install Linux on an old machine that was destined for the junk heap, and it's pretty easy as well. You'll get more life out of the old machine (reducing waste!), you'll get more experience with different systems (making updates less scary in the future!), and *just* spending some time with a different OS than you're used to will make you better and more competent at dealing with computers (it will help you to apply your troubleshooting skillset more broadly - you may not REALIZE you have a troubleshooting skillset, but you do, it's just that it's routine and specific to your system; applying it to other systems is good for you, it builds character).

And, at the very least, try to be an early adopter for new releases for your own system. If you try to cling to a particular release you're going to become reliant on it and you may end up being *forced* into an upgrade, which is catastrophic compared to upgrading over time.

I know so, so many people who put off updates for years only to finally concede when something vital stopped working and then discovered that their computer was completely incapable of functioning with the updated OS due to hardware limitations and had to very suddenly buy a new machine instead of planning for it and making a more comfortable transfer.

Please, please trust me when I say that you are going to have a much better time of things if you decide that you're just going to have to relearn how your computer works every few years than you are if you decide that you're learning how this one computer you have now works and try to hang onto it forever. And you will have an even BETTER time if you decide to figure out how totally different computers work just for the hell of it.

I'm sure I've said this before but while Linux does have some sharp edges and obtuse metaphors, the biggest reason why it's hard is that you've never used it and you're 20 or 30 years old and you have stuff you want to do and you have 10 or 20 years of experience with Windows where you already know how to do things. Computers don't naturally do anything.

[legostarwarsgame]

TT's Masterpiece: The Best LEGO Star Wars Game Yet

As we dove into it, not only did we have a blast reliving the epic moments of the series with these sick new levels, but it also reignited our inner Star Wars nerds, making us want to buy Xbox games to explore even more of the galaxy far, far away. We’re not talking about some back-of-the-store dweeb lamenting about not knowing Star Wars Masters of Teräs Käsi lore. Nope, this is about vibing with another mega-fan over how epic Duel of the Fates is or cracking up over prequel memes. You can totally tell when a dev is all about their game, and it's rare to find one where that’s so obvious. It feels like TT knew this was their last shot to do the series right, and they didn’t just nail it—they made what’s probably the dopest Lego game ever and honestly, one of the best Star Wars games out there.

Explore 20+ Planets with Shorter, More Focused Levels

Looking at it from a third-person view, Lego Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga is way more lit than the old Lego games. If you’re thinking of how to buy PS5 games that offer this kind of upgrade, this title is a standout choice. Sure, there’s still some of that classic “smash, build, repeat” vibe, but the game switches things up so fast that you never get bored of what you’re doing. Lightsaber duels are on point, the third-person shooting feels super smooth, and while melee combat could use a little more spice, that’s pretty much the only gripe with the revamped gameplay. The Skywalker Saga covers all nine movies from the main Star Wars saga, with each film split into five levels. Plus, between these levels, you get to chill on over 20 planets with tons of open areas to explore. To avoid feeling repetitive, the levels are way shorter than in past Lego Star Wars games. The devs used these shorter levels to make the world feel bigger and more focused, which is a solid trade-off.

Abundant Side Quests with Unique Humor and References

The Skywalker Saga is packed with that classic Lego game humor, but TT Games has seriously upped their game. If you're looking to buy PS5 games that deliver this level of fun and comedy, it's easily one of the funniest games we’ve played in ages. You’ve got the usual Lego slapstick, killer sight gags, and solid voice acting that, while not an exact match for the real actors, totally works. With 45 levels, you’ll definitely feel like you’ve gotten a full Star Wars experience by the end. And if that’s not enough, there are 140 side missions to tackle. Yeah, you read that right—140 side missions, 731 puzzles, 135 level challenges, and 380 characters. There’s an insanely huge amount to do in The Skywalker Saga. Some side quests are quick and easy, but a lot of them are pretty involved, each packed with unique, hilarious writing. It’s clear that the devs had a blast stuffing this game with jokes and references.

Great Replay Value Despite Story Hiccups in LEGO Star Wars

Lego Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga is straight-up one of the best Lego games ever for me—it totally takes me back to my childhood with just a flick of the lightsaber. This game is hands down the biggest, most epic, and best-looking Lego game we've ever seen! With its killer soundtrack, solid gameplay, massive amount of content, and a bunch of different settings, I’m definitely gonna keep coming back to it. It’s a bummer about the story hiccups and the times it pulls you out of the experience; otherwise, it’d totally get a ten. But if you're a Star Wars or Lego fan, you'll probably vibe with it big time.

[choibinn3]

GET IT TOGETHER, JUNGWON!!

[ nine. hehe ]

series masterlist

⋆·˚ ༘ * in which jungwon had meant for that love letter to go to yeri, and not you—her bff. for some reason though, he finds that with each moment he spends together with you he's closer and closer to forgetting all about that damn letter.

no song for this chapter!

WRITTEN PORTION. 2.1k

also partially unedited, sorry if some things don't make sense or are confusing T_T

—

The bell rang.

You made eye contact with Jungwon across the room, and yet his brown pools nervously flitted towards Yeri's direction instead. They were President and Vice President though, so you didn't question much. She was packing up her bag, and had sent you a small smile.

"I'll see you next class, ok?" she said, "Make sure you eat a full meal before work."

You grinned at her. "Got it! I hope you have a good time with whatever you said you were doing, sorry I couldn't eat with you today."

Being the only two people in your friend group with the same lunch period, you usually sat with her for it. Talking about classes, chatting mindlessly, idly looking around the cafeteria for people you knew was fun only when it was with her.

"It's fine," she replied, waving off your apology and placing her notebooks away. "It's your first day with a boyfriend, I want you to be happy."

You appreciated her genuine gladness for your own happiness so much, you could barely hold it in. You wrapped your arms around her, sending her stumbling a bit with your weight. "Woah, YN!"

Having someone so positive, so supportive, and so authentic as Yeri around you for so long had definitely brightened your outlook on life. Such a friend was a one in a lifetime chance, and yet you lucked out. You just hoped she thought the same of you too.

"Thank you! I love you so much!" you exclaimed into her shoulder.

She released a giggle, patting your back with one hand as if to ease you down. "It's the bare minimum of friendship, YN. I just hope that Jungwon doesn't hurt you."

The tone in which she said it felt more serious than it usually was, which was a bit odd. You understood her concern though, of course your friend wouldn't want you to be hurt! And yet, everyone and their mother knew that flower boy Yang Jungwon would be the least likely person to do such a thing.

You loosened your arms a bit, tilting your head at her confusedly. "Why would Jungwon hurt me..? You know he's too nice for that!"

You knew that Jungwon and Yeri had definitely gotten closer to each other since the Student Council elections, but your faith in Yeri had outshined any insecurities or suspicions that could've ever formed. She had definitely talked frequently to him, especially with all those times they've had to stay after school for paperwork, so you would've thought that she'd know Jungwon's personality by now.

She took ahold of your arms, smiling at you before wrapping her own limbs around your form. Gahh, hugs from Yeri! You giggled into her shoulder again, from where your face had buried itself into. "I know, I know. I'm just being worried, I think."

You nodded. "I get it, thank you."

Yeri and the rest had always been like this. Even though Niki would act disgusted towards your displays of affection, he loved it when you made time for him. Heeseung too, actually. Yeri and Heeseung were both equally protective of Niki and you, even though Yeri was your age.

Since the day you had became friends she was the one looking out for you. Not to say you were irresponsible, but because she was just naturally a protective person. It was a quality you and many others admired about her—her loyalty to her friends.

"Remember that guy that was obsessed with you? Back in middle school?" she muttered.

You hit her arm playfully, and she let you go. "He wasn't obssessed!" you insisted, "I thought the snacks were cute!"

Yeri laughed. "Ok, whatever you say, but he was always buying you stuff. Can't believe you turned him down, though."

Your eyes glanced towards Jungwon, who was waiting by the door with his hands in his pant pockets. The large mass of students filtering out of the opening had covered his figure at times, blocking your view when they did, and yet you knew you could point him out in any large crowd. He stood out in a way that had you nervous all over again.

"Yeah well," you started, looking away and instead down towards your shoes bashfully, "I told him I liked someone else, and now we're just buddies."

You slung your bag over your shoulder as Yeri decided to nudge it. "Wonder who that could've been," she teased, and you let out a indignant whine.

"You don't have to wonder!"

She pinched your cheek, and you pretended to attempt to bite at her finger playfully. As the both of you exited the doorway, you sent a smile towards Jungwon.

The brief eye contact made him look away again, for whatever reason, you didn't know. "I'll see you in the cafeteria, right?" you asked, a bit hopefully. Yeri stopped beside you.

He fidgeted a bit, nodding his head. "Yeah, I'll find you there."

You grinned at him, and went onto your tippy toes. Jungwon's large brown eyes widened, and he almost leaned back when you planted another chaste (burning) kiss onto his cheek. Again?! You're kidding!

Neither of you knew how relationships worked, but were you sure a kiss on the cheek could be considered the first step? He had to hold his breath, otherwise he would've made a noise.

"Ah—" Like the previous time, you moved away too quickly for him to have comprehended the situation fully—or to say anything.

Your bag slightly jostled as you promptly walked down the hallway. The figure of your back going further and further down, becoming smaller and smaller as he stood there once again. He held onto his cheek. The ghost of your lips were still there, faintly, but the touch was evidently still imprinted into his mind. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get used to that.

As you left, Yeri looked over towards him. Her smile was devoid, which was the first odd thing, and suddenly she grabbed his wrist—the one still tracing your kiss.

Jungwon looked after at her shocked, but she provided no explanation as she dragged him along with long, big strides. "What are you doing?"

"I said it'd be quick, you have to get to YN, right? Lunch with them?" She turned her head to the side, awaiting an answer.

"They told you?" he asked, but of course they told her. You were best friends. "I mean yeah, nevermind. I do."

He was going to tell you about the misplacement of the letter, too.

With how fast Yeri was rushing them both, they made it to the Student Council room much quicker than they would've if they had walked casually as they had done before. The windows of the Council room were open, the long curtains blowing with the passing wind.

The room was fairly old, not yet upgraded as the other classroom in the Hybe building were. They still had gray, cloth curtains connected to their windows, and Jungwon had found the curtains annoying when they decided to brush against his face while he was working.

Still, he found the sun and its brightness too pretty to try and close the windows. As he looked at them, Yeri had made a point to shut the door.

Jungwon glanced over in time to see her lock it, too. If he wasn't anxious before, he was now. "What did you want to talk about?" he inquired, placing his bag down.

No answer. He looked up, and blinked at her as she said nothing, just staring at him with her head tilted.

She took a step forward (he took one back, he had to), and another (his sneakers squeaked against the polished floor), and another, and another (Jungwon stumbled a bit, feet confused with his backwards direction), and more until—

Jungwon's back collided roughly with the wooden surface behind him, making an aching pain build upon the lower part of his body. Before he could even think about the spreading heat, Yeri had already slammed her hands on either side of the desk, shocking him into straightening back up.

She was close.

Not closer than you were, but close enough to where he was panicked on where to look. They had shared such a proximity before. Only once, but it was still near. He had leaned over to take a look at some paperwork on her desk, and her face was inches away.

He didn't notice her lashes though, nor her bright eyes like he did with you.

"I called you here today to speak to you," she began. Her voice was steady, calm, confident. Whatever she was planning to say, she had either rehearsed it or was steeled in her resolve.

"A-About what?" A stutter. Not good. He hadn't meant to stutter, so he just gulped down his next nervous words.

"About YN."

All of a sudden, Yeri had surged forward. Her stands of hair had flown with her, falling off her shoulders and hanging over Jungwon. Even though he was taller than her, he had to lean back to not come in contact with any part of her skin.

He held his breath again, like he did with you, but because he was terrified he'd accidentally breathe on her face.

Her eyes had narrowed. Yeri's eyes never narrowed. They had always been slightly curved from a smile, or fondly closed in thought, but never once had they even become close to those dangerous slits on her face.

Was this the same person he knew? What had initially drawn him to her was her sweetness, so how could she look so stone cold (read: terrifying) in this moment?

"Look, I know we're kind of close and all, but YN was my first friend and one of my only long-standing friendships since I was 9 years-old." Jungwon couldn't take her gaze, so he turned to look out the window as she spoke.

"They've been my rock ever since I started having trouble with my parents, and was always supportive of everything I did. YN is self-sacrificial and diligent in a way you'd only notice if you were friends with them, and observant to the small details, playful when you need them to be, and highly emotionally empathetic—"

She paused, as if finally noticing Jungwon's attempts to distract himself.

"—I'm talking to you here." His eyes snapped back towards her face at the harshness of the tone she used, and a bead of sweat formed at the back of his neck. Ok, never trying that again. "You're not a bad person, Jungwon. I know you're not the type to hurt someone like that, but I'm not taking that chance. YN is a very sensitive individual, ok?"

Yeri waited, long enough for the frightened boy in front of her to get the memo. Eventually, he nodded.

"Good. So don't you ever attempt to hurt them—actually, even if it was a mistake, I couldn't care less. I will make sure you won't live past the age of 30. You won't even be alive to see your grandchildren, Yang Jungwon."

To make her point clear, she turned her glare burning. He could feel it through his soul. Such a stare would generally leave his heart palpitating, and it was surely, but he'd be an idiot if he didn't know the difference between it beating in fear and from affection. Right then, it was fear.

As if she was finally satisfied, Yeri leaned back from the cornered Student Council President in front of her, and took several steps backwards.

"Take this as my blessing for your relationship," she offered, hand coming to give a small pat at his shoulder. It took every fibre of his being not to flinch. He did Taekwondo for God's sake, what was with him?

The words hadn't come out of her mouth, but it was silently spoken from one party to another. This wasn't just a blessing, this was a warning. A threat too, all in one.

Yeri took it upon herself to exit the room first, even making sure to close the door gently as to not disturb anyone around them, and Jungwon's legs took him to his Council President seat—because if he didn't take a seat, he was sure he'd faint somewhere along the way back.

Kim Yerim had just threatened him like an overprotective Mob Boss whose child had just gotten their first boyfriend. Kim Yerim, his crush, the girl he had been pining over since they had both been elected for Council positions, Kim Yerim—who he had apparently not known enough about.

Outside of the room, Yeri was making her way down the hallways, checking messages on her phone as she did so.

(10)! unread messages from Heeseung!

All with the same premise. What did you talk to Jungwon about? What did you say? Yeri? Where are you?

She should've known Jungwon would tell his other friends, it was only natural he would. I'll deal with that later.

She tucked her phone back into her skirt pocket, unaware of the frantic footfalls of someone running down the hallways in the opposite direction.

—

previous | next - series masterlist

TDLR: you kiss his cheek again, yeri drags jungwon to the stuco room, yeri will make sure jungwon wont live past the age of 30 :D

TAGLIST; @lumixen @ghjasksdk @atinyyylove @jjikyuu @yjwooon @ncityy04 @tyunni @littlewolfieposts @xoxojayd3n @rosiechaengz @sunshine-skz @youreverydayzebra @hobistigma @plshhhhhhh @lokideadontheinside @alo-ehas @milkycloudtyg @bangtopia @imjustme-things @love-4-keum @sleepy-paws @ilyaera @reallysmolrenjun @whoe-dis @drunkwithfever @yourstruely @chaosmagic-wanda @deezarenotmynutz @bakukags @13isacoolnumber @enwonhee @creamkwan @sunghonkers @aichaskz @oureis @hyunsunge @n1k1tty @kisswonie @hainaz

send an ask or dm‼️

i hope this was worth the wait you scoundrels

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

��Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

Find out by staying tuned and sharing. Remember Reblogs help content creators and if you do enjoy my content, the support really does help

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[five-rivers]

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

.

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

.

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.