#so i just gave him that trait instead of randomizing

[sim-berry]

Brendon Chen: Teen

Cat Person//Green Thumb//Loves the Cold//Genius

He rolled to get glasses and he looks like Harry Potter, I love him😫

(I'm following @simspaghetti's gameplay rules for rolls, I hope that's okay!💖I really like how it's set up)

[am-i-interrupting]

Random Ideas for the Charlie’s Twin Story

You and Charlie were stillborn. Lucifer did a Roger from 101 Dalmatians.

You look more like Lilith than Lucifer. Without getting too specific so we can have some flexibility, you have her skin tone, her eyes, her height and her horns.

You have the blush marks from Lucifer, his demon tail, and a white cotton mouth from his as well. (This is a headcanon of mine but wouldn’t it be cool if Lucifer had a cotton mouth like a snake? I think it would be. Charlie also has this)

You and Charlie share the same black dotted nose and hooves.

Going off the idea that Charlie is based on a porcelain doll, the same is true for you but you actually have plate disks where your joints connect.

Lucifer gave life not just to the both of you but also to Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie and a snake toy you were absolutely obsessed with as a child. (Taking name suggestions.)

You and Charlie were very close growing up. Absolute best friends.

After Lilith left, you started to drift apart as Charlie hyper focused on her idea for redemption and you dealt with your anger and pain in a different way.

For a while you stayed with Satan in order to try to figure out how to express your anger.

Then when you’d done that, you stayed with Ozzie instead. Ozzie is probably one of the best listeners of all the sins and kindest.

You worked at his club for a couple months while you lived with him.

You were the first person to know that Ozzie & Fizz were official.

Of all the sins you’re probably closest with Ozzie, Satan and Bee being close second and thirds.

You started a club of your own eventually, in the pride ring.

You also started embracing your more demonic traits. Constantly wearing them out and about.

You made it half a club and half a theater almost. People could come and perform songs and acts on stage depending on the month. It fluctuates between dance and sing acts to something more akin to circus acts.

You occasionally perform yourself and even invite Bee, Charlie, Fizz, and Ozzie to perform.

Your club is your pride and joy. Named “Ghostly Glitz.”

[kenyuluvme]

chronic fuck-me eyes.

-> byr!! reader has hair that can be tucked behind her ears + she wears a skirt. nothing spicy happens, just exploring the idea of higuruma having fuck-me eyes/eye-fucking you lol. might make another part with actual smut let's see.

he wasn't aware of it. higuruma was barely attentive to anything aside from work-related affairs, so it wasn't hard to imagine that he was in fact incognizant of one of his most outstanding character, or rather physical, traits: his "fuck-me" eyes.

the same eyes that were indiscreetly ogling you from across the office you shared with him and shimizu.

you concentrated hard on not physically shrinking under his gaze (you already did mentally), but that was hardly feasible, what with the way in which he's been staring at you for the last few minutes. his large orbs that you happened to be fond of, half-lidded yet alarmingly keen, pored over every single part of you they could reach as if you were being undressed by him; and despite his mouth being covered by his balled up fist, you could swear you caught sight of him chewing on his bottom lip twice or thrice.

the long lashes that decorated his eyes fluttered slowly every now and then, adding on to the suffocatingly erotic aura that oozed out of him. the only thing that kept you somewhat distracted from his blatant eye-fucking was the clicking of your keyboard, which was the reason why you were pressing the keys with more vigour than the average person would.

you had to admit, you were doing a terrible job at not crumbling.

you lost count of the number of times you've momentarily let go of the keyboard to tuck a stray lock or two behind your ears, or the number of times you readjusted your skirt to see if that would make him look away, yet you'd be lying if you said the idea of your handsome boss shamelessly checking you out wasn't stroking your ego in ways unknown to man.

this was far from being the first time that higuruma has made you the target of his chronic fuck-me eyes. ever since your arrival in the firm, he's been eyeing you in this exact manner; a half-lidded, overtly sexual and intense stare. first time it happened was during your second week in the firm and you were trying to figure out the bizarrely vintage espresso machine they used, when, from your peripheral vision, you saw him leaning with his back against a window, sipping his bitter drink and plainly gazing at you through his lashes.

your lips had fell and you had awkwardly let out a "uhhh" before he moved from his spot, approaching you with a barely noticeable grin and a cool demeanour. "need help, new girl?," he said, his voice husky and low, and that combined with the label he gave you was more than enough to have you widen your eyes in slight frenzy.

ever since that fateful meeting, you've become more and more conscious of his habit of following you with his gaze and it was almost as if he liked to do it when you were alone in the same place as him.

you raised your eyes to read the time. 36 minutes left then you could clock out and scream into your pillow. yet, you didn't want to let him go without doing something in return, or at least showing him that you weren't all that unaware of what he's been doing.

not removing your eyes from your computer screen, you gently but firmly killed the silence, "is something the matter, higuruma? you've been staring at me for quite a few minutes now."

after finishing your words, you sharply turned your head to meet his gaze, and you were frankly taken aback by how he took what you said. he was no longer ogling you salaciously, and in the stead of that, he seemed...flustered?

"oh, my apologies, i was just lost in my thoughts. not professional for an attorney, huh?," he tried to humour you a bit to cover up his embarrassment. he then proceeded to grab some random papers and run his eyes over those instead.

you couldn't help your jaw dropping a bit. was he actually oblivious to what he's been doing for god knows how many months now? was he genuinely not aware of the gaze that was nothing short of an invitation for you to walk over and jump his bones?

these questions bounced in your head for the remaining minutes before you hurriedly packed your papers and items then left the office with an awkwardly nervous "goodbye".

he blinked, confused at your sudden reaction.

nevertheless, higuruma considered this another win in his book, as he recalled how cute you looked trying to remain calm, and he began to ponder the other ways in which he could make you lose your cool, but he knew that you weren't ready for that yet.

higuruma was, in fact, aware of his fuck-me eyes.

-> hmmm, in my head, this was wayyyyy less story-like and more about his whore eyes and what he thinks about but it turned into a drabble ig. lemme know if a part 2 with actual sex or something that's close to it sounds nice. byeee :)

[punkeropercyjackson]

The thing about Jason is that he IS a feminist and racially inclusive character but because he treats the women and poc in his stories well,not because he's 'female-coded' or a substitute for canon poc.Now i do support transfem readings of Jason or Lina as i like to call her and consider him canonically afrolatino but that's because i love trans women fictional and real and am afrolatino myself so Jason reads as afrolatino to me from personal experience.And a big part of the latter is the diversity of his cast!!

His adoptive mom is an arab-chinese woman,his love interests are a wasian/half cambodian woman an egyptian woman and a darkskin black woman,his brothers he gets along with are that mom's bioson and his eldest brother on his dad's side who's romani and the remaining brother he's on good terms with is THE FIRST EVER BLACK ROBIN who is also the ONLY one he's always liked and been nice to and the only white character he actively likes is also a girl and has a completely platonic relathionship with him.This along with Jason's personality and other individual traits is why i have such a black view of him,because he feels afrolatino to me

That's what gets me about fanon Jason being claimed as a minority!!!Canon Jason actually works as one with a design update only but it CAN'T be just him!That's not representation or good writing!Instead of Talia bashing or some random ass white woman replacing her,she should have her pre-Morrison history employed and act like a typical brown/asian mom in a positive relatable and accurate way.Instead of sweeping Jason's girls under the rug for BEING girls and acting like it's not misogynistic because you're shipping him with Roy as if og Rhato dosen't have racialized misogyny fused into it's formula,explore their romantic dynamics with him and how they diffenterate and have in common and fucking care about Rose,Artemis and Dana as their own characters too as they're much,MUCH more than just 'DC's failed attempts to make Jason straight'.Instead of infantilizing Dick and animalizing Damian,make Dick Jason's cool reliable older brother he was close to as Robin but never mollycoddles him as Red Hood which JASON dosen't want as seen by his dislike of Roy and give him and Damian equal respect if not Damian way more since he's done way less bad fore more understandable reasons.Instead of lying about their age difference,aknowledge that Stephanie in current canon is 19 at the oldest while Jason is 23 at the youngest and in pre-reboot he was 19 when she was in high school and very specifically NOT a senior so yeah,it IS a minor x adult ship in almost every scenario they meet in the ship content

And for fuck's sake,STOP LEAVING OUT DUKE!!!!!!!The blue eyes Batkids rule isn't real,it's never been brought up in canon or joked about in official sources,it's segretation y'all made up!'Honorary Batkid' my ass,he's so literally Robin-coded the writers gave him light powers and 'The Signal' as his mantle!You know NOTHING about superheroes if you actually think Duke's not a core Robin,a Batboy AND a Batkid-Or if you think Jason's supposed to be a normie,a power fantasy or an abuser!He's a tragedy and commentary and an adventure and a comedy and same goes for Talia,Rose,Artemis,Dana,Dick,Damian,Duke AND Stephanie!Jason wouldn't wanna be Jason without them and they also do NOT exist just for him because they're his loved ones,not his tokens!Y'all want Jason Todd?Ight,then you want the Red Hood cast too because they're a package deal.You don't?Then keep that shit to yourself and invest in a dating app since you clearly can't write anything except white ass porn

[silvervioletvalentine]

❣️Only love could hurt like this❣️

Pairing: max verstappenXCherrie. Word count:14k

Warnings:angst.cherries fathers death.serious miscommunication. But happy ending:))

Cherrie tried to walk away from the meeting room as fast as she possibly could without making it obvious that she was trying to run away from him, although she was sure that the unpleasant look on her face and the way that she had completely blanked him the whole time during the meeting, might have possibly gave herself away.

Hearing her assistant and close friend, Amy, whisper underneath her breath 'keep calm. Don't react please.' To her almost pleadingly as she got stopped by one of the team members before she could chase after her and make sure that Cherrie didn't cause a fight literally minutes after signing her contract.

Unfortunately for Amy, it meant that she was unable to stop Max from barging out of the room with a look of thunder on his face, quickly pacing after Cherrie , clearly ready to pick an argument with the bane of his existence.

He had spent the majority of the meeting glaring at her like he wanted to jump across the table and throttle her for even being there .

All the time she had just avoided his eyes and mainly kept quiet , humming along and nodding whenever someone spoke to her. Refusing to even look at max, even when he had stared her down the whole time with a scowl on his face.

She knew better than to fight him in front of her new team principal and team. She wasn't that stupid.

No. Instead she waited until they were far enough from everybody else, alone in a random corridor bedore abruptly stopping in her stride and spinning around on her heel to face him with a equally as pissed off glare .

"You should take a fucking picture max! Am I that irresistible that you just can't look away from me?!" She snapped at him sarcastically, crossing her arms across her chest confrontationally .

Broadening her shoulders and straightening her back as much as she could to look more intimidating, but by the twitching of his lips as he eyed her defensive posture, she could tell it didn't do much in the way of scaring him off.

It didn't help that she literally had to look up at him, max glaring down his nose at her judgmentally while she tried to remind herself to take some deep calming breaths.

That she could not attack him. That was wrong... really wrong but..

Max scoffed at her hatefully "you're such a fucking hypocrite! What happened to your unfading loyalty to ferrari? Or should we add liar along to your list of traits now too?" He spat at her, utterly furious by the way his life had just been completely turned upside down so quickly .

He had known that there had been rumours of Cherrie transferring to A different time seeing as her contract with Ferrari was up, but with the way that she had spent years driving for her fathers team, determine to win with the reds just like her dad did, max had genuinely been convinced that she would have taken the extended contract that Ferrari had practically begged her to sign.

She had been their number one driver after all and they couldn't really afford to lose her. Even with their shitty failure and terrible strategies, she had been bringing points to them.

Usually when she refused to listen to her team radio and instead did whatever she felt was right on the track instead . That was how she usually won, by ignoring them and doing her own strategy instead . Just like her legendary father had too.

Cherrie felt anger rush through her like hot lava, glaring back at him hatefully .

"Things change Max! This wasn't a decision that I just took over night. I'm just doing what's best for myself. You should understand that!" She threw back at him . Abruptly turning back around to continue getting as far away from him as possible .

Fighting back a loud groan of misery when she heard his hurried steps to catch up with her, his shoulder brushing hers as he scowled down at her , not finished with their argument yet.

Cherrie was convinced that no matter what she did or what she said, max would never leave her alone. He always had an opinion on what she did, always had to tell her it too. As though it was just impossible for him to just leave her the fuck alone instead .

She had expected this reaction from him of course, she wasn't naive. She knew that he wasn't going to be happy when he found out that she had signed a contract to become redbull's new driver. It was mostly likely a living nightmare for him.

Because it was no secret to anybody that the two of them didn't get along in the slightest. It had started from a very earlier age during karting, it had been a nasty rivalry in the making for the both of them.

It had started simply because Cherrie was dominating him in every race , with her fathers knowledge and winning practically in her blood, she was destined to become a racing champion.

She wouldn't stop until she did. It was expected of her , she had the whole legacy of her father waiting for her and there was no way in hell that she was going to step aside for anybody , definitely not max.

The two of them had spent years fighting for the title, going up in ranks and nearly matching points the whole time . Until Cherrie had finally did it, she won f2 and immediately she was signed onto Ferrari as a rookie when she was eighteen , becoming the first ever rookie to win world championship with them too.

She had been on top of the world and max didn't like it, the pressure from his father to be the best and become the champion falling heavy on his shoulders with each race that she won and had over him.

Then he had finally started to get close to beating her when redbull had given him a better car.

He was faster , he was determined and he wasn't going to let Cherrie beat him again. He just couldn’t.

Unfortunately while he was so determined to win, so locked in his own head that it was almost like he wasn't racing against any other drivers , he didn't care about them, he just wanted to beat Cherrie .

Which had led to him making some unforgivable mistakes and errors of judgment on his part, ones that he would never admit out loud that he regretted.

So lost in his own cloud of winning, so stubborn and determine not to let Cherrie beat him again, so sick of seeing the look of disgust and disappointment on his fathers face when she passed him over the finish line again and again, even with her shitty car.

Knowing that he had the power behind him to win , he had a better engine and a better team. Yet for some reason , Cherrie just seemed to pass him Each time like it was as easy as breathing to.

He had gotten frustrated and angry, more so at himself and the pressure that was being put on him to become the greatest. To beat her. That he had let the anger and resentment cloud his judgment and his morals.

The day that max had sent her spinning off the track , refusing to let her pass him on a sharp corner of the Spanish Grand Prix , had done nothing but make their animosity and hatred of each other get worse .

The look on her face when she finally pulled herself out of her car at the same time he did, the two of them glaring at each other with nothing but hatred in their eyes. Was the day that any hopes of the two ever being friendly went to absolute shit.

The battle had then become between the two of them instead .

They went wheel to wheel , both of them refusing to let the other one pass them which resulted in them crashing more than a couple of times. Because max would rather that they both lose than let her win him again.

So sick of hearing the ridicule and disbelief that was aimed at him when she stood first on the podium with a proud smirk on her face , a sea of red below her chanting her second name proudly .

The two had clashed so badly that their team had taken to making sure that the both of them were separated from each other as much as possible, only it was a pretty difficult thing to achieve when they both had to go to the cooling room together and then they both got podium .

That was also the first time that the world got to witness the bitterness between the two of them and how bad it really was.

It was also the first time that Cherrie had punched him on live tv. And It was also the first time that they got to hear max call her a conceited , narasstic , evil bitch to her face too.

Safe to say that they had both been given a hefty fine and forced to take anger mamnegmnt classes with a therapist for a couple of weeks.

It hadn't done much for their fury towards each other. Cause the a couple of weeks after that alteration , they had been caught screaming at each-other in the paddock again. Both of them refusing to admit which one was wrong after colliding again on the tracks.

It had gotten to the point where seeing the two top drivers verbally assaulting each other was just another day for everyone around them. Their teams having given up on trying to keep them separated and telling them to behave.

Instead they just sighed and muttered at them not to take it to a blood bath instead.

So yes. The two were not friends .

So the news of her being his new teammate , the same woman that did nothing but get underneath his skin and make him so fucking angry that he couldn't think straight, was now the woman that he was going to race side by side with, in the same fuckimg car, as a team?!

Yes, he was a little pissed.

He couldn't believe his luck at all. She had spent years beating him but the one thing that max always held onto to make himself feel better was the fact that he had the better car. Had the better team around him now.

And now she had to take that from him too?

"You have spent years trash talking redbull and now you're joining us?! Why not Mercedes?! I know they wanted you too!" It was true. In fact, every team wanted her, she was one of the best. Besides him of course.

So why did she have to chose redbull? Was she trying to ruin his life even more than she already did?!

Cherrie rolled her eyes, pulling a destained face at him. "No. I spent years trash talking you. Not your car! And I don't have to explain myself to you. I did what I had to do. End of!" She snapped at him before shoving past him, making sure she pettily bashed her shoulder against his arm roughly as she did so.

Max wasn't having it.

Scoffing loudly as he paced beside her , easily catching up as she stomped over to the nearest exit door possible.

"This is unbelievable." He stated more to himself disbelievingly . Wondering if he was really that evil in his past life to deserve this.

She lived rent free in his fucking mind when she was on a completely different team. How the hell was he supposed to cope as her teammate?

Feeling both anger and uneasiness fill his chest, knowing that only one of them would come out on top. They both couldn't be redbull's number one .

And statistically it was shown that out of the two of them, Cherrie was the winning one between them.

He blamed the fact that her father was literally a legend in formula one.

The man has been a sixth time world champion , dominating the sport like it was as easy as breathing to him. And the only reason why he still wasn't champion of the world was because life had cruelly took him away during a accident on the track .

But before he had died he had spent years teaching his little daughter , his only child, every single thing he knew making sure that she would grow up and continue to proudly bare his legacy and make their name stay legendary.

Her future had been destined . She had known what she was going to be since the moment she could walk and talk and be out into that kart .

And what did max have? A father that never believed in him. A father that had never told him that he could be world champion. One that only ever wanted anything to do with him when he was winning.

If he didn't bring home a tital or a win, then in his fathers eyes, he didn't deserve to even speak to him, he was a disappointment.

It only furthered to fuel his misguided anger towards Cherrie.

She had everything. She always had. She always came first and had everything that he ever wanted.

It wasn't fair.

Then he thought of her last teammate who was no doubt utterly heartbroken at her move and scoffed even louder.

Scrunching up his face bitterly "and I bet your human backpack is crying his heart out somewhere over the news. I doubt he's taking this well." Max sniped , taking a jab at their constant closeness to one another.

Another thing that he just couldn't stand. While max had to do this alone, barely making any friends and without anyone by his side to celebrate his wins.

Cherrie had everyone on her side. Because everybody loved her. She was the daughter of a racing legend , she was adored by all.

Every driver loved her. Max couldn't go a day without hearing someone gush about her and he had unfollowed her teammate on all socials the minute he started posting pictures of the two of them doing everything together . Holidays . Cooking videos. Cute little selfies in a hot tub together .

He decided then that he hated him too. It just wasn't fair at all.

How could he have been stuck with the shortest straw like this?

Cherrie looked over at him blankly , confusion taking away the need to kill him for a moment as she blurted out a "huh?" Wondering what the hell he was talking about.

Human backpack? What the fuck?

Max just smirked at her coldly , shaking his head as though he thought she was playing stupid.

There was no way that she didn't know who he was referring too. In fact, max was surprised that he wasn't right there beside her glued to her side while they argued too.

"I'm just saying . Charles can't be very happy with you leaving him on his own. Who is he going to cling to now?" He muttered bitterly , looking away from her striking eyes for a moment when her glare became too much for him to hold his gaze with.

Cherrie immediately shoved at his shoulder at his insult towards Charles , face darkening .

"Don't fucking talk about him like that. He has nothing to do with this." She spat at him.

Protective of the Ferrari driver that she had been lucky enough to grow close to over the years. They had become best friends and Cherrie had become incredibly protective over him.

And honestly one of the only reasons to why she had stayed clinging onto ferrari for so long was because she didn't want to leave him on his own to deal with all the shit that came along with their team.

He wasn't as mentally strong as she was. He was a people pleaser and didn't like to upset people, which meant he often let people upset him instead , not saying a word about his own feelings , not wanting to cause a scene.

That was where Cherrie had come in and where the two of them had become a good team. Because Cherrie wasn't afraid of opening her mouth and putting people in their rightful place . She didn't care who she had to upset .

If someone fucked her over then she made sure that her wrath was known. And over the years she had made sure that the team knew that if they fucked over Charles too, she would have their heads on a fucking flag pole, waving it at any other asshole who dared to piss her off again.

So yes, she was worried about Charles being on his own to defend himself now.

And she felt guilty about her sudden move to the 'dark side' but she had to be selfish for once . She wasn't going to keep winning if she stayed with Ferrari and she wasn't going to let her father down.

If he was looking down at her , she wanted to make him proud. And she knew that he would want her to do the right thing and Cherrie knew that this was it.

Ferrari had left her no other choice but to leave.

"And anyways, he's been very supportive . Because he's a good guy who wants whats best for me." She added on defensively . Not liking the way max was looking at her at her like she was a liar.

He couldn't have rolled his eyes any harder if he tried . Shaking his head in disbelief "yeah fucking right. Who's going to have your little boyfriends back now? I'm fact, I'm surprised that he's not begging for a contract with redbull too. Seeing as he never fucking leaves your side!" He exclaimed looking over at her judgmentally .

Because he was certain that the two of them were not 'just friends'. They were too close and too familiar with each other.

Max had seen the way that Charles lit up just at the sight of her . Hell, they even spent Christmas with his family! He had seen the cozy pictures of the two of them in matching pjs in front of a Christmas tree, hugging each other's side with matching smiles on their faces.

It was ridiculous. And every time that max saw the two of them giggling together, seemingly in their own little bubble where no one else existed, he wanted to be sick.

Because once again. It wasn't fair at all!

Cherrie wanted to strangle him.

Taking in a deep breath to calm the urge to go absolutely mental at him.

Instead she strided out into the parking lot and tried not to imagine hitting him with her car.

"He's not my boyfriend." Was all she muttered , absolutely done with his shit as she dug her car keys out of her pocket . Looking around the spaces as she tried to remember where she had parked her car.

Max got his own out of his pocket two, not even thinking about it as he gave her a little shove on her back to get her to walk in the direction of where her Ferrari was parked. Right next to his.

"You'd think you'd have better memory dipshit. And there is one thing that you and your boyfriend have in common ... you can't park for shit!" He insulted her, glancing pointedly at her car that was parked sideways over the white line, taking up two spots instead of one.

Cherrie looked at her parking and tongued her cheek , unable to disagree with him. Despite how much she wanted too.

He was right . Parking was not her strong suit, which was ironic considering her job.

Instead she just muttered a moody "shut up." And got into her car.

There was a long moment where they both just looked at eachother as she turned on her engine , bedore she slid some sunglasses over her eyes and looked away.

Max cleared his throat bedore forcing his eyes away from her, feeling uncomfortable as he opened the door to his car quickly and quickly got in.

Rolling Down his window so she could hear him , pushing away the strange feeling they came over him, instead he took on a bored tone .

And told her "don't forget the conference on Friday. We're not Ferrari. So don't show up late otherwise you'll make us all look bad." He condescendingly snided. Referring to her inability to arrive on time to any meeting ever.

Immediately all her distain for him came rushing back as she scoffed angrily at him.

Reviving her engine loudly "I will not be late asshole!" Was all she spat before quickly reversing out of her spot carelessly , almost crashing into a trash can bedore she sped out of there , her wheels screeching .

Leaving max to shake his head with a small chuckle to himself as he carefully put out his car , reversing perfectly .

"Can’t park and can't reverse either. Surprised she can actually drive a car." He muttered to himself in amusement bedore driving away.

Hoping that his new teammate and himself didn't kill eachother before the season ended.

Cherrie showed up late to the press conference. Because of course she did.

She sheepishly walked into the room, the cameras clicking as she avoided Max's smug expression , not looking at any of them as she slid carefully into her seat beside him.

Nodding at the press reluctantly , putting her bottle of water on the table. Smiling a little to herself as she glanced down at the vinyl picture of her and Charles on it that a fan had given her .

Had she brought it with her to spite max a little after his comments about Charles and her being too close?

Maybe.

Did she care? No.

Had she been warned not to provoke or start any shit up with max for her own entertainment? Also Yes.

Was she going to listen?

Absolutely not.

"Sorry I'm late . I didn't want to come." She spoke into the small microphone stand in front of her, grinning at them to let them know that she was just joking.

A little bit.

Her media manager, in charge of making sure she didn't do or saying anything wrong to the press that could get her into trouble , face palmed . Already knowing that Cherrie was not about to do as she was told at all.

Max eyed her water bottle with a grimace , crossing his arms over his chest and silently shaking his head to himself . Deciding to be the better behaved one out of the two.

To prove they he was the more mature one out of them, he smiled over at her deliberately knowing that it would piss her off.

"Nice to see you finally arrive. You look good in blue." He slyly said as he eyed her blue redbull shirt that she was wearing . Before looking at her head and realising that she was missing something.

He picked up his own hat that had number 1 written across it. From him winning world champion last year . Only by a single point between the two of them, something that max liked to smugly remind her of.

He reached over and placed his redbull champions cap ontop of her head, winding her up.

"Can't forget the hat. We'll have to get a runners up one for you." He smirked . Ignoring his own team sharing exasperated looks between each other .

"Not even a minute in and they're already starting." Amy sighed to Max's assistant, not surprised at all.

Cherrie picked the hat off her head and threw it at him , hard. Watching it bounce off his head and onto the floor with a little satisfaction.

But not enough.

Max only laughed and picked his hat back up, placing it back on his head smugly .

"Fuck off you twat!" She snapped at him before she could stop herself. Using the new swear word that lando had taught her over the summer .

She liked it. She thought that it was a name that she could call max regularly now.

Then she heard the clicking of cameras and both amused and shocked muttering of the press in front of them, swiftly reminding her of where she was.

Slowly turning her head to look at them. Clearing her throat a little guiltily , she leaned back into her chair and smiled as innocently as possible.

"Sorry. What were you saying?" She directed her question over to the man with the microphone who had been trying to ask her a question before max distracted her.

The man looked between the two of them warily. Everyone seeing the way that max was smirking over at her , clearly amused with how easy it was to wind her up. While Cherrie was trying to ignore him all together.

If I don't look at him, then he isn't there. Cherrie told herself over and over again.

"I was saying... that it has come as a big surprise to everyone when redbull announced you as their new driver . With people expecting you to extend your contract with Ferrari. It's said that they even offered you twice as much for you to stay on with them and that you turned it down. Is that true?" He asked her , camera's filming her steadily .

Cherrie fiddled with her water bottle , slowly nodding her head yes.

She knew that she was going to be getting a lot of backlash for her sudden move from the team that her father had won his last championship with. She knew that people expected her to stay with them out of loyalty and legacy.

But she just couldn't do it anymore. So people would just have to get used to it.

She didn't care what anyone thought of her move , she was doing what was right for her in the long run.

You had to be selfish If you wanted to win. Loyalty to a team that was rapidly falling apart wouldn't get her the championship.

"They did. And I said no. No amount of money could make me want to continue to drive a car that is no longer suited to me ." She confirmed to them simply , glancing over at her press officer to see her nodding her head at her , telling her that she had said the right thing.

The man looked surprised "your father spent ten years with Ferrari. And won all of his world championships with them too. Do you not want to follow in his footsteps? Some would say that Ferrari was literally in your blood. Your destiny-"

Cherrie cut him off before he could say anything more about her father and her destiny in the same sentence.

"My destiny is to win." She corrected him shortly , lacing her fingers together and reminding herself to be calm. "And I can't win in a car that isn't fast enough and isn't powerful enough for me to pass the finish line with. The Ferrari just wasn't what I needed anymore." She told them honestly, not feeling a need to lie.

It was a secret to no one that she hadn't been very happy with her car for a long time. She had told her team so and told the press too on multiple occasions that it wasn't up to her standard anymore .

It had literally been falling apart on the track and Cherrie simply couldn't take it anymore.

Because while her father had won in a Ferrari , they seemed to forget that he also died in one too.

She didn't want to repeat history that way. And when she had to drag herself out of her car when her engine had caught fire last year without warning, she had made her decision there and then.

She wanted to be like her dad, but she didn't want to go out like him either.

Max was silently nodding along to what she was saying , understanding where she was coming from.

He hated to admit it but she was right.

The reporter was frowning "the team principal did say that they were working on improving the Ferrari and making sure that there wasn't a repeat of last years failures . Was that not enough reassurance to convince you to stay?" He followed up with , everyone silent as they waited for her answer.

Cherrie just looked at him blankly , shaking her head.

"No it wasn't. I told them before last year that they either got their shit together and fixed the car and gave me something good to drive ... or i wasn't driving it at all. I gave them the data, I gave them my advice and my options. I told them what to do and they couldn't do it." She bluntly answered, done sugarcoating how much shit she had to deal with while driving for the red team.

She wasn't going to beat around the bush anymore , Ferrari had done this to themselves. She was done.

She took a sip of her water and swallowed before continuing . "- and ya know, it doesn't matter how good of a driver you are. If you've been given a shit

Box that it literally falling apart and you have a team that are giving you soft tires instead of hard and giving you strategy's that make no sense.." she sighed in annoyance "well, you can't win at all."

Max smiled a little , looking over at her in slight amusement .

"So you tried to blackmail them into giving you a better car?" He mused .

Cherrie just nodded her head , barely glancing at him.

"Yeah. And it didn't work so.." she just shrugged , nothing more to say.

The reporter nodded and moved on, looking over to max instead .

"And how about you max? How are you feeling about having Cherrie as your new teammate this year? It's no secret that there's a bit of rocky history between you two..." he voiced the obvious .

Looking between the two of them curiously , wondering how a partnership between the two rivals could possibly work.

Max took a moment to think about his answer , knowing that telling him that 'this was the worse thing to ever happen to him' wouldn't help the tension at all.

He decided to be strategic about his reply , clearing his throat and sitting straighter in his seat again, keeping a calm facade .

"There is. We have always fought against each other on the track ..." he agreed bedore adding "but she is also a good driver and a former champion.." he couldn't help the little dig at his dethroning of her title .

Cherrie subtly rolling her eyes at him.

"But maybe we will be able to work together to keep others away. And bringing another win home to redbull. We are rivals second but a team first now. And I'm sure that we can remain professional and do what's best for the team." He simply answered. Doubting his own words even as he said them.

Cherrie nodded along in agreement .

"Yeah.. it's not me that you have to worry about."

She couldn't help but mutter, side eyeing him.

Max frowned at her "I'm not the problem either. Who-"

The man quickly butted in before they could start bickering about who the one with the issues was.

"And do you think that you two can put your differences aside and become reliable teammates? Do you trust max to have your back Cherrie?"

She just pursed her lips and picked up her water bottle with her and Charles on it, then she casually reached her arm out and knocked his redbull water bottle off the table.

Placing hers in its place instead.

All the while smiling innocently "if he looks out for me then I will do the same. If he doesn't give me the support then he will not receive it from me either." She told them simply, looking over at max pointedly , meaning it too.

She didn't want to have a teammate that was an enemy. But she wasn't going to trust him without any evidence of him wanting the same thing.

"Time will just have to tell I suppose.." was all she ended with when max didn't say anything else in return.

Merely clenching his jaw and glaring down at the picture of her and Charles on her bottle in front of him.

Reaching down to pick up his own bottle that only had his name written across it. Nothing personal at all.

It wasn't fair. Was all he could keep thinking.

Looking away from the picture of the the former teammates and best friends , swallowing the sudden ball he felt rising in his throat.

When was he going to get someone to support him like that?

Why couldn't he have what she had? What more did he have to do to prove himself?

The next two months we're spent with nothing but tension and avoidance . The two teammates not eager to get along as their history threatened to tear them apart before they even began.

Cherrie struggled to let max pass her when he was clearly able to push more than she was, and max just couldn't let her pass him without a fight either.

Both of the drivers ignoring their team radios instructions to let the other through, instead taking it upon themselves to see which one of them would pass the waving flag first.

Wheel to wheel and risking all their hard work for Petty rivalry , bickering between each other on the podium and refusing to give in and start again.

Things were tense and max was struggling to contain his overwhelming emotions as he crossed the line, pursing his lips beneath his helmet as he swallowed thickly .

She had won. Again.

Easily overtaking him on the last lap, he had fought and fought to take back his place and was unable to do so no matter how much he tried.

Pulling up in front of the p2 sign, he switched off his engine and just sat there for a moment. Silently watching as Cherrie pulled herself up out of the car and jumped into the arms of their celebrating team, all of them so happy and proud of her as she brought them more points again.

She had won every single race so far. Max always just half a second behind her. Just like when they were kids.

He wanted to scream.

Instead he blinked back the tears in his eyes , already knowing that his dad would have left the moment that Cherrie overtook him and it became clear who was going to win, again.

He was on his own.

He took in a deep breath and lifted the wheel, pulling himself out of the car and onto the ground.

Being immediately patted on the back by their team, he merely nodded his head absentmindedly , still watching Cherrie as she jumped up and down in excitement , laughing happily at yet another win.

He felt some of his anger fade as he watched her look around the crowd, clearly overwhelmed with the way the fans were all screaming her name. Even the Ferrari fans were clapping, proud of her.

He pulled off his gloves and looked away, ready to walk off to the go to the cooling room alone.

Only for his eyes to widened in shock as she looked over to him, waving her hand for her him to wait up as she jogged over to him while pulling off her helmet , max doing the same cautiously.

Wondering if they were about to have another argument about the way they had fought it out on the track yet again.

Only to be surprised and frozen in shock as he watched her lips tilt up and smile at him happily.

"That was a good race! That overtake you did on Hamilton was just -" she made a chefs kiss with her fingers . Too filled with adrenaline to see how he shocked he was at her suddenly talking to him.

Usually she just ignored him and ran over to Charles to celebrate. But not this time.

Max felt pressure in his chest, clearly his throat and looking away from her for a moment.

Flushing a little at the amazed look on her face as she rambled on about his manoeuvre , his shock only growing when she casually walked alongside him to the cooling room.

"Er thank you." He muttered not knowing what else to say to her sudden compliment. Wondering if he was dreaming.

He wiped his face down with a towel and took a sip of his drink, looking at the screens that replayed the moments between them in the track.

Watching a replay of the way she had gone wide at the corner and smoothly passed him without even coming close to him, he sighed and had to give it to her.

"You raced good.that was a smart move that you did out there. I didn't even notice you behind me , I just blinked and you passed me." He mumbled a little quietly . Not used to talking to her like this.

He was so used to them arguing and insulting eachother that he wasn't sure how to be normal around her.

It made him feel uneasy and he felt his stomach flip as she looked over at him with another easy smile, patting him on the back happily as she reached over him to grab the first place cap from the table and putting it on top of her sweaty head proudly.

"I know right?" She laughed a little, still out of breath as she tried to calm down.

Seeing their team motion for them to get to the podium , shaking hands with Lewis on the way who came third place behind max.

Max just nodded at him respectfully , jogging over to catch up with Cherrie so that they were side by side , he looked down at her quietly. Still not knowing how to take her sudden niceness towards him.

His words were hesitant as he muttered "are you- are you going to the party after this? We got 2 for 2 so I'm sure it'll be quite a big one ." He wasn't even sure why he was mentioning it to her.

He was reminded quickly of why he didn't usually even bother asking her if she was coming along as she shook her head with a smile, her eyes no longer looking at him , instead she was searching the crowd below them for someone else.

Max watched her whole face light up as she spotted Charles waving up at her with a proud smile on his face despite not getting podium himself, feeling his mood crash down again.

"I always celebrate with Charles . We're gonna get some dinner and then hang out with the rest of our friends at the hotel . Do you-" she was about to turn back to him and ask him if he wanted to come along but she was cut off before she could even try.

Max scoffed and moved away from her quickly , not looking at her as he shook his head .

"Typical. Putting your little boyfriend over your team. You're still Ferrari." He snapped at her bitterly , his anger overtaking him before he could even notice the way she had been about to invite him along with a hopeful smile.

Her face dropped, any niceness Quickly dissipating as she glared at him , shoving away the sting she felt at his reaction. Suddenly glad that she hadn't gotten the chance to invite him along If this was his reaction .

"Forget it max. I was just trying to be nice." She mutteeed , looking away from him with a upset frown.

Max felt the pressure in his chest almost crush him, unable to look at her anymore. Convinced that he would never get his chance.

"Well don't be. I don't need you to pretend to be nice to me. I'm not your friend. So fuck off." He snapped at her, walking away bedore he could see the hurt that crossed her face and the way she pursed her lips to stop them from trembling.

Fine. She thought to herself meeting Charles concerned eyes and plastering a fake smile onto her face. Giving him a thumbs up to assure him that she was okay.

Fuck him. She thought angrily . He didn't deserve her kindness anyways .

Unable to believe that for a moment she had actually wanted to be his friend .

When the Monaco race rolled around, there was a somber yet determined mood taking over Cherrie as she solemnly walked the track that had taken her fathers life so many years ago.

Everyone else knew to leave her alone to her silent grief, everybody but Charles who knew just what she was feeling as they both slowly came to a stop at the sharp corner , both glancing over to the gate that had fresh flowers tied to it. It was covered in them and covered in sweet messages that the fans had left too.

She sighed softly , leaning her head against Charles arm as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

Both of them quiet as he rested his head against the sides of hers , reflecting. His hand rubbing soothing circles over her back , waiting for her to speak patiently . Knowing that she would when she was ready.

Finally she spoke up, voice hardly above a whisper , familiar pain filling her voice .

"I miss him." She simply admitted , kneeling down to the gate and picking up one of the pictures that had been left beside some flowers.

Feeling herself choke up as she stared tearfully down at the picture of her father and herself at only eight years old, him holding her on his shoulders on the podium with the biggest of smiles on their faces.

The last race that he ever won.

She remembered the day she lost him like it was yesterday . Remembered the way her father had confidently told her that he was going to win their home race without any problems , taking her over to his car and letting her sit inside of it as he knelt down beside her proudly.

She had been eight years old and the light of her fathers life . His future .

He had gently stroked her hair away from her eyes and told her proudly .

"You're going to win this race too someday. In fact, you're going to win them all. Just like me." He had said it so matter of factly.

Believing in her so strongly that even being so young then, she believed his words too.

"I'm gonna be like you daddy. Do you think that we can win together? Then we can both be on the podium!" She had exclaimed excitedly , beaming up at him. Thrilled at the mere thought of being able to race alongside her own father someday.

He had always told her that he wouldn't retire until he was forced too. He was still in the prime of his life with no future of stopping.

Her dad had smiled fondly at her, lifting her out of the car and holding her in his arms.

He had kissed her still chubby cheeks and promised her.

"I'm going to be right there beside you. Every step of the way. Cause I love you . No matter what you do and what you achieve. You're always going to be my star okay?" He had said it with so much love and conviction , smiling down at her with care.

Cherrie had been passed over to his assistant as the crew surrounded him, watching him with wide eyes so full of amazement and awe as he pulled on his helmet and pulled himself inside the Ferrari .

He had gave her a thumbs up , clutching the wheel in his steady hands. Taking a deep breath and looking at her one last time .

"I love you daddy! You're going to win!" She had giggled at him unknowingly , waving her hands excitedly as she watched the car be pushed out the garage and over to the line.

Then she had been lead back with the crew and been seated on a chair in front of all the screens that showed the race happening, headphones put over her ears so she could hear everything. So fascinated by everything that surrounded her.

Then she had watched , at just eight years old as her fathers teammate tried to overtake him at the sharp corner where it was only big enough for one car to come through.

Their wheels had made contact and she had watched with tears in her eyes as her fathers car flew into the air , spinning and spinning bedore crashing into the barrier , immediately crushed into pieces as everything fell ontop of the remains of the Ferrari.

There had been shocked and horrified silence as she had listened to her fathers engineer repeatedly asked him if he was okay over the radio. Everyone watching with tears in there eyes as the minutes passed by and he didn't get out .

Her father didn't answer the radio , there was nothing but static silence as she had started to cry hysterically as she watched the medics pull out her fathers unmoving body, shaking their heads sorrowfully as they placed him on a stretcher and covered him with a sheet.

She never saw her father again.

He didn't win the race.

He didn't make it out of Monaco Alive.

He was gone. Just like that.

For years she has lived with his words of belief in her head, encouraging her to make him proud. To carry on her fathers legacy.

"I'm going to win this race. I'm going to win for him just like he told me I could." She breathed out to Charles determinedly . This meaning so much to her .

She had to win. For him.

Charles smiled at her softly , squeezing her close as he gently kissed the side of her head proudly .

"And you will. You can do anything you want to do Cherrie. I believe in you." He told her with a heartfelt smile, meaning every word.

Both of them unaware of the cameras filming them and her teammate watching them on the large screen with his chest tightening as he watched Cherrie wrapped her arms around cherries and kiss his cheeks, smiling up at him with softness written across her face as they whispered to each other .

To him it looked like a lovers embrace . Like two people that were so in love that they couldn't help but show the world .

He felt sick. He felt angry. He felt so frustrated that he turned away from the screen with a scowl, fingers tightening into fists as he stormed away to get ready for the race .

All sense of rationality leaving him as he saw red. All he could picture in his mind was Cherrie and Charles embracing each other , smiling at each other like they were each other's whole world.

He felt bitter determination fill him, anger fuelling his steps. He was going to win this race and prove her wrong.

He didn't care. He didn't need her as his teammate. He could win all on his own.

Her winning steak was over.

Cherrie could feel her heart racing as she flew down the straight , sparks flying from her wheels as the laps seemed to pass her by. Minutes feeling like mere seconds as she clutched onto her wheel tightly, blocking out every single distraction possible as she focused on keeping her place.

She was neck to with max, Lewis and charles not too far behind her as they all fought to pass each other, Cherrie managing to keep her corners tight as she clung to the back of her teammate in front of her.

Hearing her team come over her radio as the laps narrowed down quickly , only a few more left to go.

She felt adrenaline fill her as she heard their strategist speak, a certain pride filling his voice , everyone knowing that this was her moment to win.

This was her home race. This was the moment that she could make her father proud.

Everybody was holding their breaths and praying as they watched her close the gap between herself and max quickly , easily gaining on him.

"We've told max to let you past . He can defend and keep the Mercedes from your back. You can push- just two more laps-" he told her bedore pausing .

Cherrie heard multiple voices of her team, sounding confused and angry as they muttered between themselves . Sounding unhappy .

"What's going on? I can push! I am faster! I can do it!" She breathed out bedore inhaling sharply and only managing to avoid a Collasion between herself and max as he suddenly went wide, blocking her from getting through.

She felt anger light her up, panic also filling her too as her front wheel grew closer and closer to his.

"What is he doing?! I can win! I need to -" she gasped , heart pounding in her chest as she rapidly flickered her eyes between Max's car and the sharp corner that was quickly approaching them at the end of the track.

The same corner where her father had lost his life.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach as her engineer came over the radio, sounding both angry and upset as he informed her of what was happening.

"He's refusing to let you past Cherrie . He's ignoring team orders. I'm so sorry but you need to pull back to avoid-" he apologetic voice only enraged her further.

"No!no! No!" She shouted upset . Shaking her head and ignoring him telling her to pull back

"This is -" she choked in her words , both panic and rage filling her.

"I have to win this! My dad-" she couldn't even finish her pleading . Too upset to think straight .

She needed to win this race. She was so close - she just had to get passed max. She could do this without him.

If he wasn't going to let her past then she would make him.

She couldn't lose this race. She couldn't-

So with nothing but anger and grief filling her , she Ignored her frantic team over her radio and pressed full throttle as they came around the corner .

"Please max!" She shouted over the radio knowing that he couldn’t hear her. Expecting him to pull aside and let her pass.

He knew how much this meant to her. He knew what had happened here in monaco. He knew!

She could only watch in what felt like slow motion as max jolted his steering wheel . But instead of pulling away from her, he took the inside of the corner , giving her no time to pull away as their front wheels collided , sparks flying in the air.

Then she was flying.

Her car spinning off the track and turning around and around , clutching her fists to her chest as she gasped and cried out , her body rattling around from the sheer force as her car crashed into the exact gate that her father had crashed into all those years ago.

She saw the flower of memorials raining down onto of her car , petals falling all around her as the car finally came to a horrifying stop.

Then there was stillness .

She felt absolutely nothing but numbness as she glanced down at the picture that she had taped beside her wheel . The same picture that had been left with the flowers of her and her father , the last photo she had of them together on the podium.

She had taped it there for good luck.

As she looked at her fathers smiling face looking back at her, she swallowed.

Hearing the frantic calls of her team over the radio begging her to be okay.

The race hosts gasping in disbelief as they bellowed

"This is unbelievable! Serious de ja vu as Cherrie has been forced off the track by her own teammate! Crashing into the corner in the exact same spot where her fathers tragic accident took place! This hurts to watch- I hope she's okay!"

She inhaled deeply as she cut off her engine. Blankly looking at the photo of her dad one last time before looking away.

Exhaling shakily as she finally responded to their desperate calls.

"Are you okay Cherrie?! Please tell us that you're okay! Medics are on the way!"

She glanced over to the other crashed redbull that had spun off to the opposite side of the track, watching as max pulled himself out quickly.

His helmet covered head quickly turning in her direction , she swallowed , tears clouding her vision.

"I lost." Was all she could breath out in misery as the realisation that she was out of the one race that she needed to win.

She couldn't make her father proud.

She had lost.

Because of max.

There was a loud sigh of relief "that doesn't matter right now Cherrie. We are so happy that you're okay! Can you get out of the car?" He rushed out worriedly, everybody getting horrific flashbacks to her father dying in that very same spot.

Cherrie didn't answer.

Instead she just exhaled shakily, not even looking up as a shadow came over her.

Max heavy breathing heard as he knelt beside her car hurriedly , desperation filling his voice as he felt panic take over him.

"Are you okay?!" He rushed out in panic . Overcome with guilt as it finally crashed down on him what he had just done .

Swallowing down the lump in his throat as he looked at all the broken up flowers that surrounded her, before his eyes settled on the picture of her and her father taped beside her wheel.

Remorse making him feel sick to his stomach as he reached out his hands for her to grab so that he could pull her out.

"Cherrie please-"

She slapped his hands away violently and pulled herself out without his help. Unable to even look at him as anger finally took its rightful place.

"Don't fucking touch me." She spat at him.

Shoving at his shoulders roughly sending him a few steps back as he quickly lifted up his visor so he could see her, his own eyes pooling with tears as he saw the heartbreak in her eyes as she looked over to her crashed car.

"I'm so sorry. I am so fucking sorry! I wasn't thinking and I just - I-" he stammered to explain his stupid actions.

Not knowing how to admit that he had been so fucking upset and angry at never coming first. At never having anyone by his side.

That jealously had overcome him as soon as he saw her and Charles cosied up to each other on the track together when he had been just about to head out to find her and make sure that she was okay.

Wanting to be the one to comfort her. Wanting to be there for her . Wanting to apologise for the way he had been behaving because he was bitter and jealous and she had everything he wanted including herself .

But his anger had gotten the best of him and he was forced to face the consequences of his careless actions again.

Only this time it was worse, he didn't think that she would forgive him for this.

He didn't think that he could forgive himself either.

"I just wanted to make him proud." Was all she muttered , chewing on the inside of her cheek as she wrapped her arms around herself . Feeling like she was heading into a state of shock.

Max exhaled shakily , taking another step towards her and feeling his own heart crack as she took another away from him. Still not looking at him.

"You have - this isn't your fault. I shouldn't have - I didn't mean to! God Cherrie! I am so fucking sorry! You have to believe me-!" He was babbling away barely making any sense as he started to cry, the guilt nearly killing him.

Cherrie just shook her head and finally glanced his way, and the way she looked at him made him freeze in his spot as medics rushed over to them.

There was nothing but hatred in her eyes as she told him calmly , voice void of any emotion.

"I hate you." Before she was pulled away by the medics .

Leaving him to stand there with his heart at his feet, sobbing into his helmet as it all came crashing down around him.

She meant it. He felt it.

And he loved her.

Yet he had let his own insecurities and anger ruin it again.

She hated him.

But he hated himself more then.

Cherrie didn't look at him for a month straight .

She Didn't speak to him unless it was absolutely necessary.

Max had tried almost everyday to apologise to her , to speak to her to try and fix everything. The guilt making him unable to sleep at night, flashes of their crash replaying in his mind.

Everybody hated him for it. He knew they did.

He had almost killed her. He had crashed into her the same way her father had lost his life by his own teammate so long ago.

He couldn't forgive himself. He didn't want to.

He just wanted her to look at him again. Even if it was just to shout at him, to scream at him- to hit him and hurt him.

To do anything . As long as she looked at him again he didn't care what she did to him.

He finally got his chance to speak to her on his own birthday .

He was spending it alone, declining the persistent texts from his friends and from the team to go out and have some fun with them.

He told them that he had a headache . That he wasn't in the mood but to have a drink on him.

Then he shut off his phone and curled up in his bed , blankly staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room as he felt the numbness sink deep in his chest.

He was alone and it was all his fault .

Then as the sky's darkened and he finally managed to pull himself up in the bed , he heard rapid knocking at his door. It didn't stop even when he shouted at them to go away.

Then he froze as he heard her annoyed voice echo loudly through the door.

"Open the fucking door max before I kick it down!" She threatened him impatiently , balancing two bags between her arms with a huff.

Max hurried over to the door and quickly swung it open, looking down at her with wide eyes, shocked at the sight of her .

"Cherrie?" He gasped . Looking at her in amazement , wondering if he was dreaming .

She just rolled her eyes at him and pushed past him into the room. Huffing at him unhappily.

"What are you doing?" She demanded to know as she glanced around at his pity party. Seeing multiple empty plates and empty cans of red bull stacked up on the bedside tables.

His room was a mess. She took a glance back at his tried eyes and down turned lips . Dark circles underneath his upset eyes as he kept his gaze down to his sock clad feet as though he was too scared to even look at her.

She felt her own heart sink.

She had a lot of time to think about what had happened and what had been happening between them for a long time now.

Having sat down and talked to Charles about how she and max have always been pitted against each other their whole careers , the rivalry having been practically spoon fed to them the minute they arrived on track.

She had seen the way that max would silently walk away whenever she won a race, while she would have a team of people and friends gathering her in their arms to celebrate her win.

Max went home alone.

It was as though unless he won, his own father didn't want anything to do with him. And Cherrie had noticed the way that max tried so hard to prove his worth to him, the way he looked up to him and only wanted to make him proud.

Just like she did with her own father. Only her dad had believed in her and had been supportive , had been kind and gentle with his encouragement.

He had told her that if she wanted to be champion of the world , then she would be. As simple as that.

Max's dad had never told him such a thing and she only realised now with a sour taste in her mouth that perhaps his anger towards her over these years , was more so anger towards himself for not achieving what he thought he should . And anger at his dad for never being there unless he won.

She felt guilty as she thought back to all those times over the years when she had seen max looking over at her celebrating . The way he seemed to watch every thing she did with wonder , clearly wanting to do the same as she did.

Because despite his 'hatred' of her, she had seen the way that he had looked at her with pride when she won her first ever championship , with tears in her eyes as she pointed her finger to the sky, she had caught Max's eyes in the crowd below her and he had  smiled.

She wished that she would have spoken to him then. Wished that she wouldn't have let her own pettiness and stubbornness stop them from being friends.

He was hurting. She could see that now.

Perhaps it was never just as simple as on track rivalry.

Because if max truly hated her and wanted her gone, then why did he look so heartbroken? Why did he look so desperate and afraid when he had rushed over to her crashed car after spinning her off the track?

Max fiddled with his fingers nervously , slowly walking over to his bed and taking a seat at the end of the mattress.

"What do you mean?" He murmured. Still shocked that she was there, in his room, willingly speaking to him.

Glancing up to see her stood in front of him with a frown, worry written across her face as she carefully placed the bags in her hands down onto the floor instead .

"It's your birthday." She stated the obvious "why aren't you celebrating?"

Max looked at her like she was insane , scoffing. "I'm not really in the mood to have fun Cherrie. I almost killed you a few weeks ago. Or have you forgotten?" He snapped at her without meaning to, so overcome with guilt and anger at himself that he could barely think straight .

Cherrie didn't react other than a small raising of her brow , making him look away from her when she just continued to look at him , unimpressed with him snapping at her.

"I haven't forgotten." She finally said after a long, tense silence . Before letting out a long sigh and kneeling down in front of him on the soft carpet .

Max looked at her with wide eyes "what are you doing?!" He exclaimed.

Warily eyeing her kneeling between his legs and wondering if he had accidentally taken some drug instead of his vitamins before she arrived.

She just rolled her eyes at him and pulled one of the bags over to her.

"It's your birthday." She repeated casually "and I got you a present." She then proceeded to pull out a familiar helmet for him to see.

Max frowned, looking between the colourful helmet that she had worn when she had crashed. When he had made her crash and almost killed her, and back down to her in disbelief .

His stomach dropping in unease "is this a joke? Cause it's not funny Cherrie. I know that I fucked up, I don't need a painful reminder of how much-"

Cherrie didn't let him finish his upset rant. Instead she just placed the helmet in his lap and nodded down to it calmly .

"Look inside it." She simply instructed him, watching his face carefully .

He gave her one last look before carefully holding her helmet , his fingers tracing over the pretty design that hardly had a dent despite the awful impact it had taken.

Then he turned the helmet over and lifted the visor, his fingers freezing as he read the words that were written messily inside of it. Swallowing audibly as he read the small words of her handwriting over and over again.

Believe in yourself like I believe in you. It read.

He exhaled shakily and glanced up at her unsurely , his lips parting yet not knowing what to say.

Cherrie just smiled a little and told him "it's what my dad always told me when I was younger . To believe in myself like he believed in me. How can you reach for the stars if there's no one to help you there? Success is nothing but a empty room if there's no one there to share it with." Her voice was quiet and reflective.

Having spent the last few weeks really thinking about how wrong she had been. How differently she wished that she had acted .

Max just looked at her silently , his heart racing in his chest as he watched her face soften towards him.

She had never looked at him like that before. No matter how many times he had wished for her to, he had only ever seen her smile at Charles like that.

He cleared his throat "why- why are you giving me this? What-" what does it mean? Went unsaid.

Luckily Cherrie understood and simply shrugged her shoulders , sighing .

"Well that helmet saved my life . And those words did too. I thought that it's only right for you to have it. And maybe - maybe it can help you to? I don't know - it's stupid-" it was her time to be unsure as she nervously glanced away from him.

Not knowing how to say that she was sorry. For everything .

Simply saying it didn't seem like enough .

Max quickly shook his head "no! No! It's not stupid- it's really - it's really thoughtful actually . I-" he inhaled shakily , clutching onto the helmet tightly with trembling fingers .

"I wish that I had words like that to carry around with me. Maybe I would have been less of an asshole." He muttered still angry with himself for all that he had done.

Cherrie reached up and grabbed one of his hands in her own making him glance back down at her in shock, his eyes widening as she gently squeezed the palm of his hand .

Smiling up at him sheepishly "well, I know it's not- it probably doesn't mean anything coming from me but-" she laughed a little nervously "maybe they can be your words too?"

Max felt like he couldn't breath. His eyes locked down to her hand in his with building hope.

"What do you mean? I almost killed you cherrie! I was so stupid and-"

She shook her head at him gently "I forgive you max. I know that it wasn't on purpose and I know that you regret it. I should have let you apologise because honestly-" she inhaled deeply , gathering her own courage.

"I'm sorry too." She told him honestly .

He frowned at her, confused . "What? What are you sorry for? You have every right to hate me after everything I've done!" His voice rose incredulously, his flickering between her own desperately, heart pounding in his chest.

Cherrie just squeezed his hand again, swallowing thickly as she saw the guilt and self hatred written across his face .

"No. I don't hate you max." She told him firmly needing him to know how she really felt.

"And I'm sorry for never giving you a chance. You- I think I may have taken things wrongly. Ya know like that time when we were sixteen and you came over to me and said 'you take the corners like a devil'" she recalled that particular memory with a wince.

Max also grimacing as he remembered how he had gathered all of his courage just to go over to her after another race between them, having wanted to be her friend.

Only it had all gone to absolute shit when he blurted out that she was a devil instead.

"I meant that as a compliment. That you were really fast and fearless on the corners.." he mumbled , embarrassed by how he just couldn't hold his tongue around her.

He had been accidentally insulting her since day one , when really all he wanted to do was tell her how amazing he thought she was.

How much he wanted to be like her , learn from her...

Instead he had become her enemy Instead. Talk about putting his foot in his mouth...

Cherrie groaned in misery , letting go of his hand so that she could cover her face in embarrassment at how hot headed she had always been.

This was her fault too. If she had just given him a chance ...

"God! I just thought you were saying that I drove dangerously or something! I'm sorry! I just- we were also put against each other and everyone always expected us to be rivals and.. it's always between just us.." she trailed off , feeling terrible for what could have been.

So influenced by others and the need for success that she had forgotten to listen to herself and what she knew best.

Max laughed a little , carefully setting aside the helmet on the bed. He planned to put it in his front room with the other two helmets he had of hers.

He told her so with a small , sheepish grin. "You know that I still have two of your helmets. I'm gonna put this one right in the middle of them."

Cherrie paused , eyeing him in confusion . "Two of them?" She couldn't remember ever giving him two.

Max nodded his head, chuckling as he scratched the side of his neck nervously.

"Yeah. The first one was when we swapped helmets when we were eighteen... well, we were forced to. You practically threw it at me." He reminded her in amusement . It was a pink helmet with flowers all over it and her name written across it in big letters.

Cherrie went pink like the helmet was. Grimacing guilty as the memory came back to her.

It was a rare race where he had beaten her and she hadn't been very happy at all. He had handed her his helmet with a smile, telling her congratulations and that it was a good race.

Cherrie had thought he was mocking her.

So she had told him to fuck off and then proceeded to practically throw her helmet at him before childishly stomping off to sulk.

She groaned again "oh god. Max I'm so sorry-"

He just waved off her guilt with a laugh, the pressure slowly lifting from his chest piece by piece as he looked down at her.

Feeling his heart lighten at the guilty little smile on her pretty face , her eyes pleading for him to forgive her for being such a hot headed woman. Unable to believe that perhaps everything had just been a series of misunderstandings between them all along .

"No, no. It's okay." He laughed "honestly maybe I should be saying sorry to you because I also.." he hesitated to admit it, his cheeks flushing red .

Cherrie eyed him warily "oh god what did you do?" The amused tone of her voice made him admit it.

"I stole your helmet in silverstone. I saw Charles give you his and we had both been on the podium together and I wanted to be the one to swap helmets with you but-" he rushed out covering his bright red face with his hands. Muffling his words.

Cherrie gasped out a laugh. Leaning forward on her knees and placed her hands on his thighs as she pushed herself up, slapping at his arm in amusement .

"Max! I can't believe it was you! I was so confused when I turned around and my helmet was gone! Oh my god!" She couldn't stop giggling at him.

Max slowly uncovered his face and gazed down at her pretty smile , her eyes crinkled at the corners as she laughed at him. Feeling his heart flutter at the way he had done that, he had made her laugh. Nobody else. Him.

He chuckled "you're not mad?" His breathed out in relief . Still Scanning her still smiling face in awe.

She was so beautiful that he found it hard to breathe. He always had done. She made him do and say stupid things. It was ridiculous the way he couldn't just behave normally around her . To nervous to think straight . She made him into a giant mess. Cherrie just shook her head at him, sighing loudly as she looked down at his flustered face softly.

"No max I'm not mad. I just wish you would have talked to me . All this time I've wasted being angry at you and -" she struggled to even explain what she was feeling . Upset with herself for always thinking the worse of him.

He gently took ahold of her arms and made her look at him again, smiling softly at her.

"There was times I deserved it though. I did deliberately wind you up and push you to snap back at me ." He admitted quietly , gently stroking the soft skin of her arms .

She frowned "why though? Why pick at me like that when you know how easy I snap back?" She asked him curiously .

Max pursed his lips , avoiding her eyes for a moment as his shoulders sagged in defeat. He couldn't keep lying to himself or to Cherrie any longer.

If he had been honest right from the start then maybe none of this drama would have ever taken place . Maybe things would have been easier. Maybe he wouldn't have had to do this alone.

"Because that was the only way I could get your attention. It's was stupid and childish. I just wanted you to see me because-" he looked at her , ashamed.

"Because I've always seen you. I have- you've always been somebody that I've looked up to and wanted to be like. You've always achieved everything first , always beat me and I was jealous." He admitted to her quietly .

"I wanted to be your friend when we were kids . But I could never say the right thing. I didn't know how to get you to like me." He muttered, his hands sliding down her arms to grab at her hands instead , fiddling with her fingers anxiously.

Cherrie just interlaced their fingers and listened to him quietly . Her face open and soft .

He inhaled deeply and continued on while he still had the courage to look her in her eyes and tell her the truth.

"And then we grew older and I still wanted to be you but I wanted to be with you even more so. But then you became so close with Charles and I got even more jealous because that was all I wanted. I don't even know how .. or when it happened." He sighed quietly . His eyes filling with tears again.

He shook his head at himself , sniffling. "I just - one day I looked at you and all I saw was who I wanted to be. And I saw you smile at Charles and i just wanted you to look at me like that- I wanted you to see me-" his voice broke before he could even finish.

Cherrie leaned forward and took him in her arms, cradling his head into her neck as she tangled her hand into his hair, her other hand stroking circles into his back as he started to cry. Clutching onto her tightly , she felt her eyes own pool with tears as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight, like he was afraid to let go in case she ran away.

"Shhh max. It's okay. It's okay- I did see you . I have always seen you!" She rushed to tell him , pulling back enough so that she could take ahold of his cheeks on her hands, caressing his face gently.

His eyes searching her desperately, clutching onto her waist with his hands .

"I have always thought of you max. You drove me crazy! And every time I walked into a room the first person I looked for has always been you. Even when we were fighting- even when we were at each other's throat- I always looked for you-"

He cried in relief , heart feeling like it was trying to beat right out of his chest. Overwhelmed with his feelings that he had tried for so long to push away.

"Oh my god. You feel it too?" He breathed out in disbelief .

Letting out a breathless laugh, letting go of her waist and clutching at her beautiful face instead , his thumbs quickly wiping away the tears that pooled between her lashes .

Both of them smiling in disbelief , in relief and joy.

She let out a shocked laugh "I do! I just- I thought you hated me and -"

Max's eyes were wild , shaking his head rapidly in denial.

"No. No! Never hated you! Never!" He pushed her hair behind her ears , grinning at her in awe.

Then he breathed out and whispered "I love you. I'm in love with you. I love you so fucking much-"

Cherrie couldn't believe it. Laughing breathlessly, she just shook her head in disbelief at how stupid the both of them had been.

All this time ...Then she surged forward and kissed him like she should have been kissing him all this time.

No more wasting time. She promised herself silently as she felt him moan against her mouth in relief , his hands clutching at her like he was afraid to let go.

The kiss was messy and frantic . Teeth clashing and tongues exploring each other's mouths as she pushed him onto his back on the bed, her helmet right beside them proudly .

“I love you max. Fuck.." she breathed out giggling as she pulled away enough to kiss all over his face, beaming down at him in disbelief .

Similar emotions written across his face as he gaped up at her , heart pounding in his chest. She looked at the words written on the helmet and smiled , shaking her head.

"And I'm so proud of you. Every win- I'm gonna be there. Because I love you and I believe in you. Because we're- we're teammates now remember? We have each other's back. I'm never gonna not be there for you again okay?" She promised him seriously , kissing him again.

Max choked on a cry, laughing and crying at the same time as he clutched her body to him . Looking up at her like she was his god.

That was all he had ever wanted to hear . It was all he had ever dreamed of.

She loved him. And she was proud of him. Finally , somebody was proud of him.

Max's smile took over his whole face , their teeth knocking together as they both giggled into the kiss . Happiness filling their hearts, their heads and their lungs as they both gasped for breath.

"And I'm gonna be there for you too Cherrie. Because I love you and I'm gonna continue loving you for as long as you let me. You're my girl." He told her , overcome with love.

Cherrie just smiled and kissed him again.

"you're gonna be loving me a long time then. Because I want you forever." She whispered against his lips.

Max just sighed contently, pulling away to gaze into her eyes and seeing his future there.

"I'm gonna love you in every life. I'm gonna be your best friend and your lover too ." He promised her.

He was going to make sure that they never made the same mistakes again. All those years arguing. All the miscommunication and jealously ... he was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

She was going to win the race but he was going to win her trust , and her heart.

'Believe in yourself like I believe in you'

Her father always had been right .

He was never going to doubt himself again. He had her love and that was more than enough for him.

[taki-yaki]

What if Tav is a fey from feywild, or part fey? I don't have a particular race in mind, just wanted to see Astarion and fey Tav to be chaotic gremlins together

Love stuff to do with the fey, Tav from the fey wilds would create so much chaos together with Astarion. Although in usual D&D terms, the closest to part fey would most likely be a Hexblood. So I’ll be doing a Hexblood Tav who was mainly raised in the fey wilds for most of their life.

Hexblood Fey Tav Headcanons

You began your life as a creature of the fey before a deal gone south with a hag forced you out of your plane to the realm of Torri.

Of course, you would try to get by in this realm with your usual fey antics, of course not too long after, whilst on the road to your next performance, you get abducted by the nautiloid. 

Making you curse the chaotic whims that fate throws at you.

Upon meeting your new travelling buddies for the first time, you try to keep your distance from them at first, in fear that they might try to offer you something, believing it to be a trap, binding you to them, forced to do their bidding. You even give them a fake name, instead of telling your real name, taking any precautions from being enslaved any further.

However after the third night of attempting to cook for yourself, you eventually cave after the sweet savoury smells of Gale’s cooking plague you, giving in to the temptation and never looking back since.

Most members of the group saw you as too carefree at times, rather choosing to do what you like at random times. It isn’t until you reach the swamp and finally meet Auntie Ethel, that you seemly completely switch, tearing into the hag with a sense of rage, trying to reenact your revenge upon the kind who stripped you of your home.

Most of your companions are initially taken aback, stating how you could have gone about a less brutal way of defeating the hag, but what’s done is done. Astarion though, just watches over the scene with joy, seeing your victory as a sign of strength. power. 

Later that night Astarion approaches you with the offer for a romp in the woods, this makes you hesitate for a second before he says that it’s a fair offer after you gave him some of your blood. At first, you mainly see your relationship as transactional, in fear of being permanently indebted to him, but it isn’t until over time you both start to see your relationship as less transactional. At first, it feels weird to you not to do anything in return for him at times, but you quickly get used to it.

“So I don’t have to sing you a song and dance before receiving a kiss?”

“Well no, but if you want to, then I’m more than happy to watch you flap around like a headless chicken.”

During most of your early travels with Astarion, he would be in awe over how much colour there is during the day, but you state how it seems drab compared to the bright wonders that the fey wild had to offer.

Throughout your travels to Baldur’s Gate, whenever someone approaches you with a request to solve an issue or problem they are having, you’d usually reply with a, “What’s in it for me”, then proceed to go about solving the issue either destructively or chaotically.

A rat infestation? Well, a large fireball in such an enclosed space will make it quick and easy.

Need to clear out the nearby goblin camp? A few powdered keys should do.

Aside from your destructive tendencies, you also love to play tricks on others, whether they deserve it or not, it doesn’t matter. With you and Astation being a tag team duo, while you would create a crowd to distract people with a song or dance, Astarion would sneak around attempting to pickpocket as many people as he could. 

Other antics would include trading for weird items, such as attempting to purchase a sword or magical artefact, you would cast an illusion on some nearby rocks to give them the appearance of gold pieces. Followed by having to run from the now enraged shopkeeper, whilst Astarion is in hysterics.  

Despite most of your fey traits mainly giving other members of the group grief, one condition you hated was your weakness to iron, even if a ring was placed on your finger for a few seconds, it would leave a slight burn mark in its place. 

This came especially apparent one time, during a fight in which you were surrounded by bandits each brandishing an iron dagger or blade, ready to strike at you. 

As soon as the first blade makes contact with your flesh, you let out a loud shriek of pain as the tip of the blade leaves a large burn mark on your skin. Alerted by your cry Astarion rushes to your side, quickly taking out the rest of the bandits, before carrying you to safety.

Back at camp, he’d tend to your wound, and whilst holding you close to him he’d softly chastise you mainly out of concern. 

“Be lucky that this is only a small wound, just next time stay by my side and don’t rush out like that next time.”

After the fall of the netherbrain, realising how much this realm had to offer to you, Astarion suggests going around exploring more of faerun as hunters, maybe even finding the hag that cursed you and enacting your revenge. After all you did free him from his tyrannical ex-master. Over the 6 months the two of you spend travelling all across faerun, you eventually learn to bask in the wonders that this plane has to offer.

One late night, whilst lying in your shared tent, you turn to face Astarion, feeling as if you have a heavy weight to lift from your chest, you speak “I have something to tell you.” He’d look at you with slight surprise, were you going to break up with him after all this time, “It’s about my name” you spoke sheepishly 

“What about it my love, I think it’s a nice name.” 

“Well, I may have given you a fake name, I was worried you would use it as leverage to bind me into a contract of sorts”

He laughs a bit upon hearing this, and you swiftly reply with “Well it may not seem like much to you but it’s a big deal to us fey.”

“Alright, would you do the honours of telling me your name my love?” whilst trying to do a small bow motion while lying down. Leaning closer, you whisper into his ear in your native tongue of Sylvan, your true name, before leaning back waiting for his response. He looks at you for a while before the expression on his face goes soft “Well I think it’s a beautiful name, regardless of what it is, you will always be my darling.”

[aroacesetitoff]

Infinight Interns Reference Sheet + Headcanons

Bartholomew Finn

-Vest of Slow Descent-i made it green based off his canon design and then gave it "feathered" hems to allude to its ability

-pre-Draconic Transformation Bart-gave him silver jewelry and the only draconic traits are gold freckles, fangs, and shorter horns

-post-Draconic Transformation Bart-gold jewelry to match with his dad (Simsun), and of course claws and scales and larger horns

-boatswain's call whistle-a reference to the Jebediah + Capt. Marge

-gave him the thigh dagger sheath-cause why not. I think Bart's that character in movies that has a shit ton of knives hidden in the most improbable places

-he's got a 17 string lute, but lets be honest i aint drawing 17 strings. painted a wave design on the body and the soundhole/rosette has a dagger design

-Breath Diagem/lute pick ftw

-scars on his hands (from doing hot boi sailor shit)

-not shown but i think he's got a bunch of tattoos (like "I <3 Mom" for Marge, flowers for Gum Gum, crossed anchors, etc.)

-pupils are slitted like dragons and a very dark shade of blue

Kyborg the Mighty/Kydelius of Everwinter

-Fun Fact: i used to do archery! so some of his gear is based off of stuff I had. But you know cooler

-Canonically his hair pretty loose, and its pretty but my god its gonna get caught up in his bowstring man. braided/tied it back for practicality

-thigh highs. no notes

-gave him an armored version w/ fur because his current design didn't feel like Everwinter-y enough

-its not terribly visible but he has the Belt of Sick Trick so i put a bird on it (vaguely Tony Hawk reference)

-the Longer Bow Krystallina-gave it a snow fall design + red accents

-scars from archery, since this guy shoots barebow

-the left (flesh arm) side is the most armored and unscarred, and the right (metal arm) side is scarred + unprotected (bc u know its metal)

-pupils are really dark shade of red as a reference to the Source Diagem

-metal arm-i took an anatomy class not a robotics one, so the structure is based off human musculature (kinda) and i put the Source Diagem in his shoulder instead of his hand

Gum Gum Galindor

-star boi 🌟

-constellations on the inside of the brim of his hat that Bart sewed for him-(Bart's a sailor, he knows his constellations)

-the flowers (orange @ blue) on his hat represent him & Bart. The orange ones bigger bc u know thats his big bro right there

-the hoodie+pauldron+cross body strap combo is a direct copy of Bart's design bc thats what younger siblings do u know

-made the patches to repair his coat stars bc why not

-Random Axe of Kindness-the cute lil heart does not detract from the fact that its an axe

-timeskip design i went for a gardener vibe bc he works in the Orchidnage now-i think despite having the worst dad of the group, Gum Gum would be a pretty good father figure

-Staff of Flowers-i wanted to reference Dia w/ this one so I tried to have this be the most colorful part

-Bart pierced his ears at one point

-i gave him constellation freckles that showed up post Dia reveal

-he has his manacles yeah but i wanted to design friendship bracelets for the rest of the team

-Mudd's-green thread with pink & white flower beads-the charm is Gumbo

-Bart's-leather cord with blue & gold beads and an anchor charm

-Kyborg's-brown leather cord, green beads, and a red arrow charm

-made his pupils a lighter shade of blue that glows when he uses Wild Magic

-edit: lots of scars, some from fighting, a lit from just tripping and shit. Also a dog bite from that one time

Mudd Bramblecrack

-i love him but it was so hard to come up with a design

-the pink streak keeps moving bc im inconsistent and also bc he has to redye/cut his hair constantly

-the "fur" cloak is the Cloak of the Secluded Garden, and its actually pine leaves & grass

-gave him a very simple tunic w/ a bramble design bc we would try to disguise his noble bg

-i put Mudd in a kilt bc i have free will and also he's Scottish. I dont think he would ever wear one unless for formal occasions tho bc i think they take a while to put on

-Gumbo :) + badger armor -this ones very specifically inspired by Lonna Bowstripe from the Redwall series

-originally had the purple gems on his tunic, made em earrings instead bc thats cooler

-Bramblecrack signet (?) ring-also the Virtues Diagem. Both this and his earring are purple bc its an ace reference (for me). The ring is definitely an ace reference bc i made it a black metal and put it on his right middle finger (ifykyk)

-pink paw pads + talons-less of a firbolg thing, more of a Moon Druid thing

-eyes are a rlly dark shade of green but glow a brighter shade when Wildshaping

-pupils are a rlly dark shade of purple (Diagem ref) and also horizontal like cows

Okay I think that's everything. If not ill just come back and edit it 🤷. working on the OG Infinights next so stay tuned or whatever

[shiroganeryo]

So... I may or may have not made a Dazatsu lovechild a while ago 💦 Decided to show her to the world after seeing some discourse on the neighboring site today 😅

I took inspiration from Yūko Tsushima, Osamu Dazai's daughter and novelist! Her ability is Child of Fortune.

A lot about her is still a WIP, but please check under the read more cut if you're interested in knowing more about her (and also see me exposing myself with the delirious idea that brought her into being)!

Feat. married Dazatsu, which is always good; but this post is looong.

So, how did this happen?

I'm very weak and give lovechildren to my ships often. I was thinking about how cute would be a child of theirs and conveniently found out about Dazai's daughter, who also was a novelist and everything simply fell into place effortlessly.

The actual backstory

Yūko is a byproduct of the Book. The text written into it desired a strong ability that could be easily manipulated to come into being. However, since the Book follows a certain logic, such ability manifested as a singularity; key traits of two abilities it considered powerful if combined merged and came into being as an infant's.

Still following the Book's logic, this weak, vulnerable being appeared in the vicinity of the ones who would protect it from harm.

And now the "serious" part is out of the way, imagine Dazai randomly getting up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and finding a sleeping cat that had broken into their home.

...Except when he touches it to put it back outside, it turns into a child.

This is a case of "instructions too vague, gave a random couple a child" lmao

What happens from there

What else would Dazai do if not wake Atsushi up, who at first doesn't understand why all that fuss just because of a cat that broke in until he sees it for himself. Both are extremely confused.

Then what else would they do if not resort to Kyouka next door because they're at a loss and need a female's feedback here. She's immediately smitten but Atsushi keeps reminding her they can't just keep her like a lost kitten, they need to find her parents.

This results in them deciding to take her to the Agency, they're detectives after all. The three of them walk in, Dazai with the girl in his arms (to prevent her from activating her ability and running off), Atsushi carrying a bag with the improvised provisions they had arranged, and Kyouka with the straightest face ever.

Everyone looks at them in confusion. Ranpo instantly knows what's up. Atsushi says he would love to say they can explain but he honestly has no idea whatsoever.

They tell the others what happened and since Ranpo likes to make things more amusing, he remarks on how similar she looks to both Dazai and Atsushi in appearance, and that her ability also resembles Atsushi's weretiger features. Dazai instantly picks up on the hints.

Kunikida is hellbent on finding the girl's parents before anything else, but Dazai suggests running a DNA test to test a theory of his. Kunikida resists a little because there's just no way you're implying what you're implying, but Dazai insists for the sake of ruling out possibilities.

It's a perfect match with both him and Atsushi.

The next steps

Apparently, they're her parents now. She needs registration documents and whatnot; Ango takes care of the bureaucracies and necessary paperwork to make this happen more smoothly because this is by no means your everyday occurrence, she must be properly recorded in the Special Division's files.

Since Dazai and Atsushi are married, this means they're also both her legal guardians. For safety's sake, her surname is registered as Tsushima (津島) instead of Nakajima (中島) to make her a little harder to track because there's definitely something up with that (or so Dazai thinks, which he tells Ango).

To help cover her identity better, she's also accepted into the Agency as an employee (she went through an entrance exam and all) of sorts, so Fukuzawa's ability takes effect on her. The ID card on her lanyard is her official detective ID.

Currently, she's learning how to read and write and undergoing training to better control her ability.

Ability

Yūko's ability was dubbed Child of Fortune (寵児, Chōji); it's still under observation to determine the full potential of her skills. So far, it's known that much like Atsushi, she's able of transforming fully into a tiger (except it's a tiger cub) or partially, into a weretiger. She supposedly has restoration skills, but they're still not fully developed.

Exceptionally strong claws.

She also has a powerful bite, observed to neutralize the effect of other abilities with the only exception being No Longer Human. The bite leaves a mark that renders the affected person unable of using their ability for a set time.

Some trivia

Since Yūko can't heal herself properly yet, her injuries are kept bandaged. Usually seen on the wrists or ankles. I left this detail to match Dazai's bandages, as a visual representation of the young age the irl author lost her father to suicide.

The reason why her left hand is bandaged in the second drawing though, is because she punched a classmate who was bullying her; she didn't mind the offenses until it sounded like they were badmouthing Atsushi and GOD FORBID she hears anyone say anything bad about any of her dads.

It's fine btw, they're best friends now. Dazai actually talked to the kid and they apologized after that; Yūko only apologized because Atsushi told her to.

I need you to imagine them being called to the school because Yūko got into a fight and Atsushi becoming disconcerted after learning the reason behind it from their daughter while Dazai tried very hard not to laugh because it would upset Atsushi but he was a little too proud of Yūko (defend your cinnamon roll dad!)

She's very easy to deal with, a very calm and obedient child despite having a strong, assertive personality. When she's not in school, she's hanging out in the Agency; she stays in the lounge area of the office and spends her time drawing or trying to write words. Both Atsushi and Dazai take turns checking on her.

Like any child, Yūko has a lot of energy and may tire out her parents, especially if she decides to activate her ability; she outsped Atsushi once and since then they're both surprised and terrified. She always falls for Dazai's trap of calling her by saying "pspsps" with a smile though and fails to understand why she turns back to normal every time.

Her training isn't just to teach her how to control her ability better, but also to teach her how to use it responsibly. Sometimes it looks a lot like gym classes tbh.

Yes, tiger Atsushi does carry tiger cub Yūko around in his mouth and gives her baths.

Yes, Dazai does whine there's yet another cat in his immediate family circle that he can't pet.

And if you read until here, I wish you a wonderful day, please know that I love you and am sending good things vibes your way 🫶

[overtaken-stream]

This is just a random idea, not very likely to happen but with all the King having a little daughter asks I got "ideas". Honestly imagine reader finding out she's pregnant and no matter how much she loves king, in the end if he were to find out she's pregnant with him that means the chances of her exploring the world are 0%, since it's most likely King will keep them somewhere near him in Wano.

After finding out about pregnancy, let's say the reader used her "position" aka people seeing her often with King and realizing what they were to get aboard the ship. I don't think the chances are high because I do believe that someone would inform King about your whereabouts and he would fly to get you lol

With the slim chance you made it out of the Wano somehow, years have passed and you have given birth to a daughter who looks exactly like her dad, including his lunarian traits, the reader has no choice but to shield her daughter from the world and cover he true identity.

I believe that eventually this would bring attention to Big Mom pirates, who ended up taking you alongside your daughter. Big Mom bears no interest in reader, only her half lunarian daughter but the little girl protests so much when they threaten to separate her from her that Big Mom ends up marrying you off to one of her children just to keep the little girl quiet. Big Mom does plan on ending you once the daughter is independent.

Now, news travel fast around and once King is informed about Big Mom missing only 2 races instead of 3, he really isn't aware its his child.

Somehow I believe that Big Mom still asked King to join her crew but added the part about how "A father shouldn't leave his daughter alone." I won't elaborate much on his reaction, I love angst and the idea that King gained something finally and it got taken away from him breaks me. + The little girl holding onto Katakuri's pants (just an example for our "husband") and she calls Katakuri papa and is confused what does a man looking like her want from her (King)

Can't have him being happy, all the favourite characters have to suffer <3

Omg, the angst and drama.

The chances of the reader escaping Kaido's hold are very very slim, but let me add an alternate ending to this.

Imagine that The Beast Pirates, mainly King, placed an underground bounty on her (unaware of the pregnancy). The very act of escaping brought numerous obstacles and bounty hunters that were nearly impossible to evade. Surviving under these circumstances must have been incredibly challenging for any pregnant woman, but the reader's experience was the sole reason she managed to stay alive for 10 months. When the reader deemed an island safe, she gave birth on some island in the New World. This situation strongly reminds me of Rouge D. Portgas – a mother doing whatever it takes to protect her child.

That was until one of Big Mom's Officers showed up (probably one who was after Reader's bounty), In her weakened state, she fell prisoner to them. After discovering the newborn, the circumstances became complicated once the officer informed their mother. Big Mom uncovered the baby, who, mind you, would cry hysterically every time somebody who wasn't reader touched her. She deemed the child important, but not Reader. However, Big Mom was forced to comply and let her stay for the baby's sake. To be honest, she would NEVER waste her son Katakuri's talents and race on a normal human. Her main goal is to get the daughter on her side as soon as possible, be it through manipulation, threats to the reader's safety, brainwashing, or using just her biological mother as a weak point."

In any case, she would end up with Reader's daughter completely under her control and Reader getting handed over to the Beast Pirates (If they manage to survive the Straw Hats ofc + Big Mom probably fed lies to the daughter to convince her to let the Reader go) with King having no knowledge of his family, Reader will end up telling him at some point for her daughter's safety and the rest is history.

[slexenskee]

Nest (Oneshot)

Someone, at some point, somewhere in one of my inboxes, asked me something about Hawks's more bird-like traits. I wish I could remember... literally anything else about it so I could track it down and answer it properly, but I can't so here's Gojo being sick and Hawks building a nest about it

[link] (or read below)

Getting sick is a normal and uncommon fact of life— unless your name is Gojo Satoru.

This is his reasoning for how he idiotically misses the signs of his own incoming misery until it’s too late to avoid it. He’d had a sickly early childhood, mainly due to a premature birth and a finicky eating schedule, but by the time his Six Eyes and his memories had awakened he’d gotten through the worst of it. There was still the usual gamut of runny noses pervasive in the public school system, but eventually he’d learned to filter out the worst of the pathogens. Some common viruses, like the cold or the flu, changed too quickly each year for him to do it reliably, but as he got older he just learned to keep a healthy(ish) diet and a decent(ish) sleep schedule and avoid them. 

In hindsight, that it took him this long into his parenting adventures to finally catch something from Eri was actually rather impressive. Kids were the penultimate vector of diseases; sticky hands, constantly touching everything and everyone, and spending notable amounts of time around other small human-shaped vectors of diseases made catching an illness an inevitable outcome for any parent. As it turns out, Gojo Satoru and his invincible barrier was no exception.

Anyway, so finally getting sick wasn’t that surprising, even if he wasn’t thrilled with the experience. 

But Hawks’s reaction to it… well… okay maybe that shouldn’t have been surprising either, but it sure was a bewildering thing to wake up to.

He wakes from a groggy, disorienting sleep with a head that feels stuffed full of cotton (or maybe just congestion) and only a vague recollection of how he ended up back in his bed. He thinks he actually fell asleep on the couch with Eri on his chest, but at some point he remembers being carried off somewhere. 

Eri had gotten some kind of bad head cold from her daycare. Nothing life threatening, or even warranting a trip to the pediatrician, but painful to deal with nonetheless. He hates to see her so obviously unwell and unhappy, and especially hates how little he can do for her when she’s like this. He’d stayed up with her through her miserable coughing fits, gave her steam baths when he could, and made sure to keep her on a steady clip of simple foods and fluids. In the process, he’d slept poorly himself, and spent most of his time stressing out about her and forgetting to eat or drink fluids himself. 

At first, he just assumed his poor constitution could be blamed on a criminal lack of sleep. Then he tries to take a breath through his nose and ends up in a coughing fit instead, and realizes not only is he still sleep deprived, but now also sick. 

Gojo collapses back onto the bed, sighing as he resigns himself to a pretty unfortunate next few days. 

He rolls over onto his side, hoping to clear out his lungs that way, and ends up with a nose full of Eri’s hair and a cat yowling in protest. 

This isn’t particularly unusual. Eri still sleeps with him on occasion, and when she does she sometimes forgets to close the door behind her and the cat prowls in at some point and makes a nuisance of himself by curling up right where Gojo wants to put his legs. 

But when Gojo opens his eyes to swat the cat off the bed, he’s met with a peculiar sight. 

He blinks bleary eyes out at the scene, a bit bewildered, and wondering if his head cold is making him hallucinate. 

The bed is… full of junk. 

Well, not junk exactly, but a strange and random collection of various household items that, at first, make no sense to Gojo. Every throw pillow in the house seems to have made its way into a vague circle around the perimeter of the bed, and draped across them are all the spare sheets, random pillowcases, a few sweaters, a pair of fuzzy socks he thinks might belong to Yui, the throw blanket that lives on the couch downstairs, and even a few throw blankets he doesn’t even recognize. 

He reaches for the nearest one, a plaid thing he’s very certain he’s never seen before in his life. It’s silky soft, and also still has a tag on it. He rubs his fingers across the smooth fabric, then moves to the sweater that’s bunched up next to it. It’s also quite soft. Everything on the bed is soft, he realizes. It’s not just an arbitrary assortment of all the fabric items in the house— it’s an assortment of all the softest fabrics in the house, laid out in a conspicuously circular arrangement around him. 

Gojo’s not entirely certain, but he thinks this is supposed to be some kind of nest. And he appears to be in the center of it. 

For a long moment, head still fuzzy with sleep, he just stares out into it incredulously. Then he shrugs and grabs one of the random blankets and throws it over him and Eri, snuggles back up to her, and falls back asleep. 

//

Hawks returns to the room when the light is low, so quiet Gojo almost doesn’t stir even as the other man moves about the bed. He reaches out blindly in the direction of the noise, catching the Hawks’s sleeve. 

“Oh,” Hawks says softly. “You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

Gojo gives an unintelligible grunt in response. Hawks just chuckles, moving closer to push the hair off Gojo’s forehead. “Yeah, I figured as much. I’ve got water and medicine, if you’re up for it.”

Gojo eventually summons up the energy to open his eyes. At some point, Eri and Meow have disappeared, leaving him rather lonely in this crowded bed. 

He blinks up at Hawks. “... You made me a nest.”

He made a nest, and then put Eri, all the softest things in the house, and even the cat in it with him. If he wasn’t so out of it right now, he’d be dying from the adorableness of it all. 

Hawks looks a bit abashed as he looks down at his arms. Gojo realizes he’s got a collection of sheets and pillowcases in his arms that had formerly been strewn around the edges of his the bed. “Ah… yeah. Sorry about that— I kind of made a mess! I’ll clean it up and put these in the wash.” 

Gojo frowns up at him, blaming his wretched sinuses for the way it takes him so long to realize Hawks doesn’t just look bashful, but perhaps even a bit self-conscious. He tugs a little harder on the man’s sleeve, wishing he felt a little more coherent so he could properly explain himself. 

“Don’t clean it up,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “I like it.”

“Oh,” Hawks looks surprised, and a little pleased. “... You don’t mind?”

Gojo shakes his head, which from the way his head starts swimming in dizziness after, was probably not the best idea. He has to close his eyes to stave off the nausea, and Hawks immediately starts fussing over him and urging him to sit up and take his medicine. As he does that the hero walks over to the blinds and slides them shut, dousing the room in blissful darkness. He gives a sigh of relief; he’d forgotten how sensitive he gets to light when he’s sick. 

“Better?” Hawks asks. 

Gojo makes a noise of acknowledgement, setting down the empty glass as he smiles up at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Of course,” Hawks replies easily, returning to his side. He settles at the edge of the bed, careful not to dislodge all his hard work, gaze worried. “Do you need anything else?”

He’s about to say no, before he thinks better of it. He makes a show of looking around the bed. “You know, it’s a pretty nice nest,” he starts, slowly. “But I think it’s missing something.”

It’s cute how Hawks sits up at attention, suddenly very alert, looking both eager to please but also a bit offended. “Missing what?” 

Gojo grins at him. “You.”

Hawks rolls his eyes. “That was embarrassing for both of us,” he mutters, but nonetheless slides in next to him without protest. 

Yeah, his game’s usually better than that, but whatever, he’s sick and he still got what he wanted. 

Back to Masterposts

[casswithmywholeheart]

Is there any more information you can share about your Spidey Golden Guard AU? I am absolutely frothing at the mouth over this it is literally so cool, and the art you made for it is EXCELLENT it is scratching my brain so well, you have no idea

Also I know this was asked before but it was a while ago, so would you allow fan art of this?

Thank you!!

Oh well! I coulda go on for hours and hours for this.. It's been three years but I still remember the burning passion I had for this!

This is actually just a very very vague idea in which <Hunter is a high school student who is secretly a superhero named golden guard>. I gave spiderman traits and spidey-like characteristics to his hero identity, such as joking (to hide his insecurity and weaknesses), may come across as mischievous (a social menace) but is actually just trying his best to use his powers for justice, and a masked guy who must keep his real face and name unrevealed. As a teen he is classic peter parker cause he is nerdy (for birds), struggling for everyday life at school against the bullies.

The only difference might be that he's trying to get a boy -instead of getting a girl- cause he's in love with his classmate Edric lmao edric is basically his gwen stacy. And that he had to be trans bc I'm ftm, so extra trans struggles(like wearing a binder to a fight and stuff). Also he uses a magical staff as a source of power so all his superpowers come from that, instead of spider webs or a spider bite.

I didn't specifically think of a concrete or consistent storyline or setting (when it comes to making AU's I tend to be weirdly unspecific); I just drew a bunch of doodles of whatever scenes that came into mind. All the posts were created like that. The margin ones where gg is shooting webs from his wrists are literally just brainrot doodles- I don't think that's canon. I don't think the golden guard as a hero should be bitten by a spider (he has a whole staff to use). He is the masked golden guard who uses magic powers to save people but normally is an insecure teen named Hunter(not ben); the classic story we all know.. It's as simple as that. (Since it's vague and unspecific I think it makes easier for others to hop on and enjoy with their own views!)

There are tons of doodles in old textbooks and on printouts and papers from back then.. but for now, here are some drawings that I found.

I remember the start being a random thought where I made a connection between these two because I thought their vibes were very similar.

And yes! You're absolutely welcome. I would always love to see any kind of fan art for this idea. I always think of a green t shirt with white long sleeves beneath it with a pair of beige pants when I think of spidey Hunter, but I did draw an orange hoodie once, and I don't mind if people made him wear what they would like for him to wear. Even I couldn't decide if he had round or pointy ears, but I believe he is human in this au, so even if they were pointy it would be due to genetics. (One last Tmi: I like to think his arch enemy is emperor belos who is actually his own uncle, just like how spidey's enemies are sometimes among his own neighbors.)

And last, thank you so much for giving love and attention to a silly little AU I made. 💛💛 It's so precious to receive asks like this.

[theknightmarket]

"I think this belongs to you."

In which Google and Bing experience some flaws in their code. Part 1 - Part 2 TW: cursing Pages: 22 - Words: 8000

[Requests: OPEN]

It was funny to realize Google had developed that classic android trait of ‘ew humans’. It was funnier to see happen in real time. You went from Titanic to The Shining to The Truman Show, before you ended on the Sound of Music. That last one was a treat for you, especially because you were hiding a pen at your side to mark on your arm the number of times Google grimaced in the course of the movie. It wasn’t hard to predict his distaste for musicals, which was half the reason you were tempted to show him the illegal ones filmed with a shaky phone and constant background chatter. The other half was because this was likely to be the last time you would spend quality time with him.

Sure, it was a little odd to call part of your job ‘quality time’, but you were enjoying yourself, and Google had yet to leave in a huff, so he couldn’t have been that off-put by random bursts of song. It gave a hint as to why you felt so bad when you saw the email notification pop up on your laptop just a couple hours after the quant movie festival.

You were finally doing the worst part of building anything electrical – transferring the sketchy code, with all its inside jokes and midnight ramblings, to the formal logs to send off to the company. Clean it up and stick it in a file, really, that was all you had been planning to do for the night, so that you could gradually wind down from the stress and excitement of the day. Plus, you needed a break from Google’s philosophical questions, and typing on your keyboard a toned-down version of what was already there was about as mind-numbing as it got.

And then, as the click of a square bracket showed the end of an instruction, the notification pulled itself out from the corner of your screen. You barely had time to read the address line before you paled, swallowed, and then promptly ran out the lab altogether.

Your mind was racing just as fast as you were. You swung yourself out the door and up the stairs, aiming for the bowl where your car keys were thrown every morning. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack. It ached like you were already going through one. How long did you have until it gave out? Minutes, seconds? Nothing registered until you were in the driver’s seat of your car, hands on the wheel and the keys jammed into the ignition, albeit untwisted. You weren’t planning to go anywhere. Where would you go? Where could you go where you could get away from the consequences of your actions?

In the end, you let your head fall to the top of the wheel and held it there while your shoulders slackened, and your breathing evened out.

You knew this was going to happen eventually. You had known since that first email the company had sent you. 

Your time was up, and so was Google’s. With you, at least. You hadn’t read the full thing but there was no doubt that the email contained the dates he needed to be completely finished and polished by. Deadlines always made you feel queasy, but this made you feel sick to your stomach.

It only got worse when you returned to the lab after your little freak-out.

You had taken ten minutes by yourself to think it all through. You were alone, the car was quiet, you were protected by the metal casing from the reality of the situation. Still, you should have known that the android designed to care for people would be concerned by your rushing out of the house like a bat out of hell. Google didn’t have the mother-hen instincts that you had first assumed anything domestic would need – he had traded in the hushes and smiles for sarcasm and deadpans, instead – but that didn’t mean he was completely ambivalent about your state. If he wasn’t going to chase after you, then he was going to fix the problem at the source.

The door to your lab, which you had left open, teased you as you stumbled towards it. You weren’t at your best yet, and you had a moment wherein your vision swam and your throat went dry before you forced yourself down the stairs again.

Damn it.

Google stood right in front of your laptop, back facing to you and head fixed directly to the screen. Despite not having opened the email, it would take less than a literal super-computer to access it.

Tentatively, the softest you had ever spoken to him, you called out, “Hey, Google?”

You grimaced at your own voice, and then ever more so at the silence that followed. Did he have the ability to be angry? This was the most you had ever cared about another’s emotions, and you didn’t even know if he could have them.

“Google?” You stepped forward as you tried again, and then took another step when he stayed silent. “Are you back to shutting off?” Another step. “Look, I know the neighbors are loud, but Abigail is just a baby, and you’ll find out how hard they are to keep quiet…”

You regretted the joke the second it was past your lips. It both fell flat and reminded you exactly what you were worried about. You were just great at comforting people, weren’t you?

Now standing only a few feet away from Google now, you could feel something coming off him. You thought you imagined it until you stopped assuming the metaphorical; it was warmth. It was then that you noticed the whirring of his fans in his chest, ineffective if the heat streaming from his was anything to go by. The last time you had seen something like this was when you had first given him mobility in his legs, and he spent the first day and a half looping the lab’s tables and machines. You had been overjoyed back then.

You were plagued with regret.

“Eleven-fifteen, April 12th—” Google stayed perfectly still as he read out the email, “—‘Dear Chief Engineer, the android project has been arranged to be showcased at the Ladia Electronics Center on April 20th at four-thirty PM. Members of staff are due to retrieve the android project form your residence at twelve PM on April 15th, and we trust that everything will be in order by then. Sincerely, David Plymouth’.”

Well. You were right. It was the deadlines. But what could you do about it? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were helpless. Google spoke with such formality that, if you weren’t the one to build him, you would think he were running off a script. But you were the one to build him, and you knew that, beneath the metal faux skin, nestled in the wires and pumps and tubes, he was livid.

“Google, we’ve been over this,” you muttered. You wanted to sound confident, convincing, calculated, all the things you weren’t. “You were created to be a service android; they’re going to want to show you off to potential buyers of investors. I, I can’t do anything about it.”

The word service left a sour taste in your mouth, because he wasn’t just some microwave or vacuum cleaner. He was alive. It was your mistake, but you couldn’t change it now.

Even as your throat tightened, as if to strangle itself so the words wouldn’t get out, you kept talking. “It’s either I let you go, or I blow off an insanely powerful company, one that could easily get me arrested for breach of contract and take you anyway.”

He still wasn’t talking – why wasn’t he talking? He was capable of speech, he was just being petty. When he couldn’t form a word, he was more responsive. You hated this. The feeling of disappointing someone you cared about was exactly why you went into robotics in the first place, and then you’d taken the stupid job of creating an entire person, with all those feelings that you hated. You regretted it. If you were able to go back, you would have trashed the email and blocked the number immediately.

Except you wouldn’t. Obviously. Google was the best thing that you had ever made, that had ever happened to you. You wouldn’t give him up for the world.

You just had to convince yourself and him that you weren’t giving him up.

“Why don’t you want to go?” you asked. “It’s just one afternoon.”

Silence. The air was stifling, and the room was closing in.

“Hey, I know you can talk now, so give me an answer.”

“I don’t want to go.”

Finally. You sighed in relief, unaware of yourself as you moved beside him. From there, you could see his eyes better. They were transfixed on yours, those blues the same shade as everything else about him. So robotic, and yet so vibrant. 

“Why not?” It was easier to be reassuring when you were face to face. “I know it’s not going to be fun, but it was bound to happen eventually.”

“Your prime instruction allows me to deny any other instructions that I do not want to follow.”

As proud as you were of him for figuring out the concept of want, this was an inopportune moment, and for all your preaching of his freedom to choose, everything was falling down around you now that neither of you could.

“I know, but not without explanation, I…” You felt something snap within you as you averted your eyes. Immediately, everything went out of focus, and your thoughts took over. Google stayed watching you, never moving, never blinking, never removing his attention. “Google, you’re going to have to go eventually.”

Permanently. That was the word that chocked you in your throat. A hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing with a vengeance, like it was your fault. Was it your fault?

“I am aware,” came the response, slow and steady, “but, and I apologize if this is inappropriate, please, do not let them take me, for now, at least.”

His tone shattered your heart; if you had been told an hour before this moment that the sarcastic, teasing android who would sigh and roll his eyes if you were drowning, would ever say please, you would have asked if you were talking about the same guy. And yet, there he stood, close enough that you could wrap your arms around him for comfort, hesitant desperation coating everything.

“I’ll try.”

His eyes softened, you could have sworn you saw the edge of his mouth twitch upwards for the briefest second, but the fans in his chest still whirred as if they were tasked with cooling hell. In fact, they seemed to pick up in speed.

Gently, you patted his arm. “We need to get you checked out.”

He nodded. You swallowed. The pair of you assumed your positions at your desk. 

You promised that you would try.

But apparently you didn’t try hard enough.

“With all due respect, the robot is a robot, it can’t think for itself or make decisions.”

Every time you thought it was as bad as it could get, it got worse, and every time you thought it was the end, it started up again. You had responded to that email, went back and forth with the company, compensations, exchanges, bargains – at one point, you had lied to them that Google had a severe glitch in his system that made him unsafe to be around families, but they shot you down by pointing out that he’ll just be on show for the first few months. Now that the framework was complete, they could build the rest of the features into him with updates from a team of engineers.

They were taking Google and leaving you behind.

“It has no authority here, and, frankly, neither do you.”

The staff member that stood in front of you was pissing you off, plain and simple. She wore that classic, stuffy get-up of a black suit, sunglasses, and an earpiece – as if you needed any more reason to glare at both her and the rest of her posse as though they would keel over if you tried hard enough. The woman, presumably the leader, had already sent two of her colleagues down to your lab, while another two stood behind her. If they thought it was for her protection, they were damn right.

“How do I not have any authority? I built him!”

“Yes, and, as you can see, he has been built.”

Familiar clunky steps covered the sets that accompanied them. Google didn’t say anything as he was escorted to the door, but that didn’t make it any less painful. In fact, you would have preferred he did. You knew he should have been making snide remarks at someone, even if it was you. Instead, he stared at nothing in particular, mouth closed and marching forward like a toy that had been wound up at the back.

“That means that, really, you aren’t needed anymore,” the woman continued, ignorant to or uncaring of your disgust. “It’s fine, you can let him go.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin. Google and the men had gotten to the bottom of your driveway, where a white van was parked. Your body reacted automatically, and you were taking steps forward and out of the house before you could process it. The thing that stopped you was a hand on your upper arm. This was spitefully similar to a kidnapping, except you were watching it happen, and the victim wasn’t fighting back.

“And what happens,” you spat, “if he breaks, if he gets damaged or something goes wrong? Who are you gonna turn to then?”

A mocking smile crept onto her lips. “That’s why we have the code logs, isn’t it? Every detail is there, so if anything goes wrong, we’ll just check it.”

“And mess him up even more?” Just the thought of someone else getting their hands on Google’s wiring made your stomach churn and your fists clench. It had taken you months after he became conscious to get that far. You built up a relationship, you listened to him, you made sure to be safe and gentle. There was no way to make sure that the cold scientists he was going to be delivered to would pay attention to him.

But that was in the future. In that moment, you could only bargain.

“Why don’t you just bring him back after the conference and then I’ll be able to check him over?”

She didn’t respond immediately, and there was enough of a pause for you to catch Google’s look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long, and it was overshadowed by the sunlight framing the scene, but it was the first time you had met his eyes since those crooks had arrived. The pure panic would stay with you for the rest of your life. There was no anger, no sadness, just a fear that made your mouth go dry.

And you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

The woman put her hand on your shoulder. You fought back the urge to snap her wrist.

“Look, I get it.” Her tone was a poisonous mixture of faux-comfort and smugness. “When I was younger, I had this pet gecko, and he lived on my bedside table. I took care of him like the son I never had.”

What the fuck?

“One day, I came home, and my parents were putting him in the wild because they didn’t think it was good for me to be so attached. And they were right. So, even though I was sad, I let them take it. And look at me now, I’m better than I was when I was a kid, right?”

Your only thought of ‘what the hell are you talking about and what substances have you taken today’ was translated to her as, “What’s your point?”

The gentleness fell out of her voice as quick as it had arrived. “Let us do our jobs, and let the damn robot go.”

The sliding door to the van slammed shut, followed by the opening and closing of the front doors. The other three that were left didn’t say a goodbye before they were walking to their own car, and, soon enough, you were the only one still standing on your doorstep.

You were alone.

Google was gone.

What were you supposed to do now?

You cried. For the next two weeks, you cried in every room of your house. The worst places were your bedroom and the lab, for obvious reasons, until it got to the point that you turned out the light, locked the door, and simply stopped going down those stairs. You didn’t have any work to do – getting the message from your bank to say that the payment had gone through made you dizzy with regret – so you had nothing to distract yourself with. You wandered through the halls of your empty home like a ghost.

Before the company had commissioned an android to be built, you had lived alone. Going from a college student who only just managed to take care of a Roomba to checking up on a whole fully functioning person was a drastic change, and so was returning to square one. Everything was so quiet. Google didn’t always talk, but there was a whirring that accompanied him wherever he went, and he had no chance of moving quietly with all the stuff packed in him. When he did voluntarily make noise, it was a sarcastic comment or a philosophical question that made you think about your own life. They were gone, and so was he.

It was weird to admit that you missed him.

You were sitting at your dining table, fiddling with a finance spreadsheet on your laptop, when the mail icon appeared at the side of your screen. Your hand sprang into action and made to close it, the wound from what happened before not fully healed yet, but you stopped when your curser was hovering over the ‘x’ button. It wasn’t from Google.

And yet the subject line was eerily similar to what had kicked everything off all those months ago.

Figuring you could deal with actual work later, you opened the email and skimmed the information. Time, sender and grammar all checked out, so it wasn’t a scam. That didn’t ease your nerves much, and you were left with furrowed eyebrows and heightened shoulders by the final signing off.

It seemed that Microsoft had caught wind of Google’s little project, and, instead of fruitlessly searching for another engineer who could construct an android to the same quality, they went straight to the original source; you. They offered a six-month deadline, free reign over your work, and a $400,000 payout. Still riding high from certain recent events, you would have needed half of that to start working. The only problem?

You would have rather gouged out your own eyes that go through the heartache again.

Two trains of thought ran through your mind as you sat at the table. On one hand, getting attached to another of your creations would put your mental health into the red. You would be risking your sanity and your happiness because there was no way mega-corporation would let you keep the android. You would just end up in the same place as you were now, sitting alone in an empty house. But, on the other hand…

Who said you had to get attached in the first place?

You got close to a cold and calculated bastard of a bot, so, in theory, if you did a 180 and went down a completely different design path, you shouldn’t run into a problem. The email didn’t specify a personality, and there would be no need for two sarcastic pricks on the market – said with the most affection in the world, of course.

Tentatively, you opened up a new model creator on your laptop with the plan in mind to screw around for an hour or two and see what came of your experimentation. If nothing worked, that was that; you would reject the offer and go about your wallowing in your misery. If something did crop up, you weren’t going to fight it.

You were almost disappointed in yourself at how quick the ideas came to you, but not as much as you were at how quick you actually built the android.

It took you half the time to get to where Google had been at the six-month mark. You reused most of the physical assets from before, the body-shape, the circuitry, all the diagrams that you had safely tucked in a draw were spread out like a nest on your lab’s desk. The difficult part was the personality, because you planned to take the completely opposite path than you had with your first. Google treasured logic? This one would take the fun routes. That single comment about not liking the Vans Triple Crown? You plugged his storage right into YouTube’s Top 30 Epic Skateboarding Tricks. You went so far as to challenge his color scheme so that not a single drop of a cold palette would be seen.

After the fact, when you were wiping iron filings off your gloves and splattering yourself with orange paint, you couldn’t recall a single thing you had done in the last three months. Everything was a blur, but you had the code sitting on your laptop, as well as a fully complete android in front of you to prove it had happened.

Bing was ready.

And the very next day, you were ready to show him the world.

That led you to the local skatepark. It had been a while since you had last stepped outside your house, and even longer for something other than groceries. You weren’t sure if the place was still open before you were walking with Bing down to the metal fencing, but the skidding of wheels and uproarious laughter of children assured you that you didn’t need to turn around in shame.

The android bounced on his heels as you looked around the park. There were plenty of ramps – all with a healthy collection of graffiti, as you had expected – and a few groups of youths hanging about. Hell, you saw what you were pretty sure was a six-year-old glide down a stretch of tarmac in front of an ambivalent junior. Aside from the fact that Bing was slightly jacked for a teenager, he was going to fit right in, so you pushed him towards the closest feature and scanned the edges.

You noticed a bench underneath the leaves of a larger tree, so you made that your base of operations while Bing had his fun. You didn’t know how to skate yourself, and you were more than content to do work in the background. The code wasn’t going to transfer itself, right?

Your hand stilled over the trackpad. Damn it.

No, it wasn’t going to turn out like last time. You weren’t going to get attached. You weren’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have been allowing yourself to continue the project. You pledged that the minute you started to feel close with Bing, you were going to pass him off to one of Microsoft’s internal engineers.

Your own thoughts made you grit your teeth. ‘Pass him off’, like a chore that you didn’t want to deal with, like a job? But he was a job. You were commissioned to build an android for a powerful company. You didn’t need to care about him.

But it had happened last time, and you didn’t realise it until it was too late. What was stopping you this time? Your flimsy boundaries that you were already running over with a tank?

You slammed your laptop shut. The snap made you wince.

Everything was fine. You were capable of fulfilling an order without getting off track.

“Yo!”

The yell came from the ramp some distance away from you, but you still had a clear line of sight to watch Bing rocket into the air. Panic flooded you, pushing you to your feet and propelling you forwards. He was going to crash against the tarmac, he was a two-hundred-pound man of literal metal, and he was in the air, and he was coming down, and you couldn’t stop him. You stumbled over a spare skateboard in your flurry to get closer, but it didn’t matter because, when you skidded to a stop, Bing was back on the ground.

What was it with robots and putting you into mortal peril?

A cheer erupted around you. Most of the kids you had seen in the skate park at the beginning had convened around the newcomer, including a group of eighth graders who dashed to meet him in the dip. They gestured to parts of the ramp, exchanged some skater jargon that you were not young enough to understand, and then they all backed away again. Bing was left there, staring at the opposing concrete with a determined expression.

Your heart picked up again as you realized his thought process, but you didn’t try to stop him. He wanted to do this, and you weren’t going to be the one to stop him.

He clambered up to the higher platform while the kids continued to watch on. You tapped your fingers at your elbow, a nervous habit you never seemed to crack, and thoughts ran rampant in your mind. None were helpful, so you ignored all of them and simply shifted your attention to the excited grin drawn across Bing’s face.

He was encouraged by the whoops and whistles of the spectators, but he took a few seconds to run some calculations in his head. He wasn’t an idiot, at least, not in this situation. He understood the risks and consequences of sending a heavy – and, not to brag, expensive – piece of machinery down an eight-foot half-pipe. If he didn’t protect himself and everyone around him, things had the chance of going south real quick. That, and you were watching. He couldn’t mess up in front of you! The whir of his internal fans reached his ears at the mere thought of failing at something he was built for while the one who had actually built him for it watched.

He had to get this perfect.

Bing took a step closer to the edge, eyeballed the distance, which, for an android, was correct down to the millimeter, and then propped the skateboard a quarter into the air.

One last look at you revealed your obvious trepidation, but there was also a layer of pride underneath.

He took an unnecessary breath in and out, and then dropped off the side.

When you had been programming Bing’s skills and personality and everything else about him, you went in with the idea of going completely against your instincts. Unfortunately, that also meant going completely out of your comfort zone, so a good majority of what the android did wasn’t anything you had intimate knowledge of, and – as much as you would have liked to beat the nerd stereotype – you knew absolutely nothing about skateboarding.

Hence why your jaw dropped to the ground when you saw Bing’s trick.

Hell, it was more than a trick; it was a performance. He tipped off the edge and, with more force than normal because of his whole being-a-block-of-metal thing, picked up a lot of speed, which let him fall into the dip of the ramp and shoot up the other side, barely giving enough time for him to become more than a blur of amber. When he was in the air, everything moved so fast that you didn’t see his hand wrap around the board and only processed his 360 spin and then the complete flip of that same board. In your mind, warning lights flashed, and sirens blared. That panic reemerged with a vengeance – until Bing caught your eye and winked at you before rocketing back down to the half-pipe and gliding gracefully onto the other side’s platform.

Luckily, the cheering of the kids was enough to cover up the vicious beat of your heart that was in no way tied to that sneaky wink and had all to do with the danger he was most definitely in.

Obviously.

“Your boyfriend’s real cool, dude.”

“What?”

The kid at your side, no older than twelve, nodded towards Bing, who was trying to perfect a kick-flip with the guidance of the bunch of gremlins that surrounded him. For a moment, you regretted not programming him the ability to blush because it would have made the image so much better. For now, you had to be content with Bing’s nervous grin, orange rings flitting back and forth between chattering children and trying not to accidentally break the board in half – not that this was that bad in the first place. You deserved it after the things he put you through.

You looked back at the kid, barely able to open your mouth to ask, “Wait, boyfriend—?” before your feet started moving on their own. Or, more accurately, two pairs of tiny hands wrapped around your wrists dragged you towards Bing, who looked just as surprised that you were getting closer as you were.

Another third grader tapped on his elbow, prompting him to lean down so they could whisper in his ear.

A feeling of acute dread settled in your stomach at his sudden and worryingly devious smile.

It only took you another two minutes to start screaming, and it wasn’t some dignified, heroic yell. No, it was very much a shriek that translated how much you thought you were going to die.

“Oh, my god, oh Jesus goddamn Christ!” 

In context, it was even more pitiful. You were moving around 15 miles per hour in a straight line with Bing on the board behind you to hold your waist. You weren’t in danger, and, in theory, you knew that. The problem came with your inability to steer the damn thing, which intensified when your pseudo-instructor decided that now was the best time to hop off and let you go forward without him.

“Bing, I swear—!” You only restrained your language because there were kids around. 

Bing didn’t let that dissuade him, and he wouldn’t let your fear discourage you, either, if his encouragements were anything to go by. “You got it!”

“No! No, I don’t!”

“Sure ya do!”

You sure did not, because you crashed right into a park garbage can, and you might have assumed that calling it a crash was an exaggeration. It was not. Your stomach was pressed into the metal top – slightly warmed by the sun – but your legs curled around, so you ended up sliding right off and into the tarmac, which was as equally hot as the can. Neither of them compared to the burn of your face, spreading down to your neck and up to your ears, that you hoped you could blame on the humidity.

After flipping onto your back in an attempt to lessen the contact between you and the ground, you preemptively squinted to block out the sun, but you were, instead, greeted by a cooling darkness.

A groan dragged itself out of your throat when you noticed the utterly smug smirk on Bing’s face.

“You good down there?”

“Shut up.”

He was laughing at your plight, but he put out a hand, nevertheless. You were more begrudging to take it, even though take it you did. 

“This doesn’t make you cooler than me,” you muttered, swinging your legs around.

“’Course not.”

“Because you aren’t cooler than me.” You were about halfway up now, crouched but no longer feeling like select parts of your skin were on fire.

“Totally.”

One final tug had you pulled forward into Bing’s chest. Really, you had to stop colliding with stuff or you were going to look like you’d lost a paintball match, it was getting to be a bad habit, a truly serious problem, and you weren’t using the beratement as an excuse to not think about how close you were to Bing. The metal casing around his circuits wasn’t the superheated danger you imagined it would be, but then you heard the whirring of his fans beneath that shell. They seemed to be working overtime in the end of July weather, but you’d had far hotter days in the peak of summer. Were they malfunctioning? Distantly, a memory from months earlier knocked at the back of your mind. 

However, had you looked up, you would have realized that the cooling system wasn’t having technical difficulties. You would have realized that Bing’s eyes were buffering, the orange rings dipping in and out of focus through his sunglasses, as he struggled to process the situation. You would have realized that the trouble came not with his body, but in his understanding of his body. He was stronger than he assumed, and he had put a bit too much force into pulling you to your feet.

It was in that moment, that both you and Bing had a similar epiphany.

This was bad.

“Comfy?”

“Genuinely, yeah.”

You hadn’t put much stock into that thought at the time. Instead, you had taken a step back from Bing, ignored his hands that stayed on your upper arms to make sure you were steady, and moved on. You left the skatepark with a wave to the kids, while he had taken a few seconds to promise to return. He seemed to have had fun, so you wouldn’t mind going back every week or so. When you had offered, Bing accepted with none-too-little excitement. It had put a smile on your face that lasted even to eight o’clock that night, when the temperature and the lights dimmed into a peaceful atmosphere.

With no other projects to occupy your time, you were able to take the night to relax, mold yourself into your sofa and get your mind off current events. And future events. And past events.

It was a good thing the old college game of throwing food into someone’s mouth and scoring points based on how close you got was the perfect way to forget yourself, for the time being. That meant you were leaned on the arm of the couch and Bing was at the other end, a bucket on the floor and a pile of popcorn in his hand, as well as the remains of everything that missed tucked into the divots of the cushions. His feet were propped up on your lap, a weight that should have been heavier than it was.

The TV had been on since you had flopped down, but you didn’t switch over the channels, so it was mostly an indistinguishable background to the chatter between you and Bing, whenever you weren’t chewing on a kernel.

You were in the process of swallowing one, because you didn’t want to just grossly spit it out, when you unintentionally picked up on a news report. Going from the teenage-dirtbag experience of your little game to listening to that, you froze and hoped beyond all hope that it wasn’t what you thought it was.

Out of the corner of your eye, a newsperson relayed the most important stories they could fish out for the day from behind a white desk. A shot of a skyline backdropped them as they read from the teleprompter behind the camera. All of that was what you expected. You did not expect to see your first ever android appear where the buildings had been in the background.

You adjusted to sit up straight and turn your body to the TV.

It had happened that very day, apparently, at a conference meant to showcase Google’s domestic abilities. Just that mental image made you internally scoff. You had programmed him the ability to cook, sure, but you weren’t about to be the one to test them out. He hated making a meal more than he hated cleaning, and even then, he had grumbled and groaned the one time you made wash the kitchen floors.

He had hated. He had hated making a meal.

Despite the distance put between you, both city-wise and time-wise, it appeared that little fact hadn’t changed, because the order to make a pot roast resulted in a broken cutting board, a smashed light fixture and two separate fires. The conference was cut short, obviously, and Google was returned to storage while representatives apologized to everyone present. Investors weren’t so forgiving, and neither were the press. Insults were tossed left and right, some of which made your brow furrow, especially those aimed at the programming.

Yet, with all that, you weren’t sympathetic. You weren’t even sad. You were split between vindicated and totally and utterly pissed. Had they listened to you, none of that would have ever happened – and, sure, it didn’t affect you anymore after the company stripped your name from everything and anything attached to Google, but you had made him, dammit! He was good. He had been good.

You were silent in your anger and pride, staring intently into the screen, before a piece of popcorn hit your cheek and you slowly turned to look at the offender.

“You made that old man?” he asked. The teasing came with a concerned tone.

“Oh, yeah, but that was months ago.”

You sat back into the couch, softness embracing you. It would have been a lie to say you didn’t miss him. Anytime that your thoughts wandered close to your memories of him, you threw a lasso around them and tugged them back. You took a risk going down to the lab at all, and, even though you hated the comparison, Bing was an android just the same as Google was. You had built both of them. Their personalities were miles different, but they were both yours.

“Are… are you okay?”

You blinked back to reality. The android actually present had taken his feet off your lap and moved closer. The gentle frown was not the first thing you noticed about his face; the lack of sunglasses covering his eyes was much more shocking.

You muttered back, “Of course, just, uh, thinking.”

Once more, the room fell into silence, besides the report that had moved on to the weather, but it lasted only a moment before Bing piped up again, “What’d he do?”

“What? Bing, he didn’t do anything.”

“But he’s not here anymore, so he must’ve done something.”

Maybe it was sweet for him to assume it was someone else’s fault, and you could have allowed him to believe it, but you knew the guilt would gnaw at your heart until you caved in.

“No, he didn’t,” you sighed, “I- I let him go. The commissioners wanted to store him in a warehouse for conferences, and I couldn’t say no to them. You’ll have to go, too, when your company wants you.”

The unspoken question hung in your mind; would you be able to handle it, when that time, as it surely would, came?

Bing didn’t seem too worried about it though. “Nuh-uh! I’ll just use my charisma and good looks to make them let me stay.”

He said it like it was the obvious solution, with so much confidence that it rivalled Lord Byron, and maybe even Microsoft. There was a part of you that wanted to believe him.

“You’re going to bat your eyelashes at the retrieval staff, and, what, seduce them into leaving empty-handed?”

“Bet.”

Sometimes, you regretted hooking him up to Urban Dictionary to save time.

“Or would you rather me leave the seducing for you?”

And sometimes, you really regretted it.

Your heart was going wild in your chest. It batted against your ribcage as though it were trying to escape a lion, but it would have jumped into the danger of the shark-like grin on Bing’s face. Still, it only sped up when one of his hands came up to rest on your waist and the other dragged up your arm.

Bing may have been the android, but you were the one who short-circuited.

Whatever coolness remained in you after that whole skateboarding debacle dissipated into the surroundings, because your eyes were wide, and your heart was pounding, and Bing was getting closer and—

And he was laughing.

He pushed himself back onto the arm of the couch and clapped his hands together, violent glee racking his body. “Ha, gottem!”

The blush didn’t die down on your face, even as you took deep breaths in and deep breaths out. Of course, they weren’t to calm down your embarrassment, they were actually to convince yourself that literally pulling the plug on a three-month long commission for a mega-corporation wasn’t a good idea.

Your mind still wasn’t made up when a knock sounded at the front door. Bing was plastered in the cushions, so you were free to answer it without him trying to act as an ineffective guard dog.

His call of, “I’m sorry!” was interrupted by more giggles.

Shaking your head, you added another factor to the ‘pros’ column as you pulled open the door.

“I think this belongs to you.”

You weren’t given enough time to process the view on your doorstep before a heavy weight was thrown into you. 200 pounds pressed against your front, which you struggled to pivot into the wall. When you were able to let go, though, all of the redness in your face drained out of it.

“Google?”

The android himself spared a pleasantly apathetic look down at you – one you recognised as being the happiest you had ever seen him in his time with you. What the hell had happened?

“Did you see the news?”

The voice, familiar enough to make your blood boil at the intonation of it, snatched your attention away to the sight of that woman from before, who wore the same black suit and sunglasses.

“Yeah, the conference—”

She cut you off, as if you needed another reason to hate her, “Was a complete failure because of some bug in its code that you’re responsible for.”

“How can I be responsible for something that I wasn’t given the chance to cause or fix?”

She stepped closer to you and through the doorway, and you could have sworn you felt Google tense up. “You’re the Chief Engineer, aren’t you? That means you’re in charge of the coding and- and whatever else goes on with that robot, right? And that means that its faults are your faults, too.”

You paused for the moment. You made no noise as you thought it through. You could have rolled over, could have nodded, said ‘yes, ma’am,’ and gone back inside the house, could have fixed Google up right as rain and then sent him off to the warehouse again. You should have let him go.

But you had already let him go once. You weren’t going to do it a second time.

“No, it doesn’t,” you stated roughly, “considering I haven’t spoken to anyone affiliated with Google in four months. In fact, I assumed this freelancing gig was over and done with.”

“Obviously, it isn’t, and we need you to sort out the robot before the conference next Tuesday.”

Oh, how kind of them to give you until Tuesday, when your calendar showed it to be a Sunday.

“There is no way I could figure out the problem and solve it in two days!”

“Oh, because you have anything else to do?”

“Hey, hey, hey—” In your brewing fight with the cliché of a super-agent, you hadn’t noticed the clunking steps of someone approaching, but you were proud to catch the slight look of confusion on Google’s face, “—chill it with the arguing.”

From around the corner, Bing swung into view. One of his hands grasped the border of the doorway to the living room, and his feet separated so that he filled more of the space. He reminded you of an owl puffing up to intimidate another bird.

The frown on Google’s face became more apparent as Bing spoke, “Look, lady, if the smartest person in the room says they can’t do it, then they can’t do it, ‘kay?”

The woman addressed you with stern distaste. “You made another one?”

“Yes, I did.” You leaned back so that she could see him better, and vice versa. “And this one was not commissioned with the laws of robotics in mind.”

In reality, you had made sure Bing didn’t have the ability to hurt anyone because you faced the very real risk of being arrested, but her paling face made the lie worth it.

“Is there anything else, or can I get to my work with a reasonable timeframe?”

Her eyes flitted behind you, but you didn’t pay much mind. You were too busy reveling in the panic you were causing – even if it was a tad mean – to notice what your boys were doing.

Bing was naturally a sweetheart; his guard dog attempts normally looked like a chihuahua who was biting off more than he could chew, and they never failed to make you smile. However, he was still a six-foot tall box of metal that was able to generate enough force to move a large truck. A lazy smirk and orange sunglasses weren’t going to easily distract from that, especially when he was purposefully showing off his teeth.

Google, on the other hand, maintained a threatening aura without having to be physically imposing. He looked much the same to Bing, but those factors were overshadowed by a glare that could make hell freeze over. A human body between him and a target was like putting a puddle in front of a raging wildfire, and his time at the warehouse had done him no favors. Any bartering for a sense of ethics or morality was better spent on dolphins.

You didn’t question why the woman was so quick to spit out an answer. “I can give you three days, then.” A glance over your right shoulder. “Four.” A glance over your left shoulder. “Five?” Her shivering gaze returned to yours. “A week, and that’s my final offer.”

“Alright, then, I’ll see you next week.”

And, just like that, she scuttled off to the white van that was waiting at the end of your driveway. You didn’t bother watching her drive away, and, instead, slammed the door shut and spun around to look at the now-two androids that stood in your home.

Bing was smiling brightly – not that you would have known he ever looked any different – and Google was as nonplussed as ever.

“Welcome home, Google.”

“It’s good to be back.”

Getting a hug would have been too much, and you knew that, but you assumed that was all you were going to get, a nice comment and the briefest twitch upwards of the corner of his lip. You weren’t even aware that a handshake was an option, but he definitely chose it.

Google’s hand was colder than you remembered, prompting you to briefly wonder how much the other engineers tampered with him before you brushed the question off in favor of tightening your grip. He nodded, and you nodded, both certain that this was the best outcome.

You parted slowly, and the warmth of a summer night swarmed your skin again.

“So, introductions are in order?” you asked. This wasn’t something you had prepared for, and you were already worried about how this would play out. With such drastic personality differences, there was bound to be friction. Hell, you had intentionally created Bing to be the opposite of Google, everything he…

Everything that he would hate.

As it turned out, spite always came back to bite you.

Still, you gestured to the orange android now stepping closer to lean against the wall next to you. “Google, meet Bing—” Your hand switched sides, “—Bing, this is Google.”

“’Suh, dude?”

Internally, you were screaming. Externally, you were waiting with bated breath. Neither were good sensations, and it only got worse in the seconds that were filled to the brim with tension.

Google didn’t say anything in response; he simply set his jaw, spared a glance towards you, and then promptly marched through to the living room, leaving you and Bing behind in more silence. 

But he didn’t kill him, so you’d take it as a win for now!

“We can always try again in the morning.”

“Definitely,” oh, you knew that tone, “little Chief Engineer.”

And you were right.

“Shut up,” you huffed.

You smacked his arm, winced at the sting afterwards, and then dragged Bing back to the living room, the android laughing all the while.

If he was going to be like that, he was going to have to figure out there was only one recharge station himself, then who would be laughing? Although, you would undoubtably have to deal with a petulant Google in the morning, so, just maybe, it wouldn’t have been any of you.

But that didn’t mean you would stop smiling.

[What do you mean it's been a year since the first part of this? What, totally not, no... noooooo... totally not. Uh, anyway, thanks for reading?]

[karmarox]

Fallen Gods and the Curse of the Crowns

Wanted to share an idea/headcanon I had about the Follower Bishops. This is based off of how they are when they first arrive at the Cult + their traits, expanding and adding more lore/story potential around the idea.

Essentially, the now Mortal Bishops all have a curse placed on them due to how they used their crowns, and then being separated from them after being connected to them for so long.

Leshy Curse of Chaos: Has random sudden fits of "Bad Luck" where he gets struck by misfortune. -It's not actually that debilitating, he never was a particularly strong Bishop and left Darkwood to its own chaotic devices most of the time. -Most of the time it manifests as just a weird string of chaotic and perfectly timed happenstance that leads to him being inconvenienced or put in a compromising position or tossed around like a ragdoll. -The rest of the Cult can only watch baffled whenever things just seem to randomly go wrong around Leshy in impossible, bizarre ways. (He finds it kinda funny, honestly)

Heket Curse of Famine: Has random, unpredictable bouts of extreme hunger pangs. -They can happen at any time, even immediately after already eating to the point of fullness or in the middle of the night while she's sleeping. -If she doesn't eat to stave off these pangs she could very well collapse. (And has multiple times due to being too prideful to let the Lamb or the other Followers help her, at first) -Takes to always carrying food and snacks on her as a result. -The Lamb gave her a key to the food stores and free access to the kitchen because of her condition. She hates them for "pitying" and "mocking" her. -Gets extremely uppity if people waste food. Maybe that's why she hasn't actually sabotaged the food stores even though she states she definitely could and the Lamb is a fool for giving her easy access.

Kallamar Curse of Pestilence: Very poor health. Frail, gets tired easily on most days, and prone to fever and illness. -Pretty much constantly in danger of catching a cold, fever, migraines, or whatever illness is floating around the area at the time. -It doesn't help that he doesn't particularly sleep well and also strives to push himself to get into the Lamb's good graces. -Frequent visitor to the Healing Bay because of it. -In actuality, he's the first to notice how all of the Former Bishops have strange ailments and occurrences surrounding them that are rather coincidentally related to their former domains. -Theorizes that they've all been cursed due to their abuse of the crowns, since all of their afflictions are related to how they usually treated mortals they didn't like (he especially is aware of how prone he was to taking his frustrations out on his followers by throwing sicknesses around without a care), and the Curse's power seems to scale with the former Bishop's, from only mildly inconveniencing and amusing Leshy to being horribly debilitating for Kallamar and Shamura.

Shamura Curse of War: Enters sudden fits of rage and hostility, lashing out at anyone around them no matter who it is. -These fits seem to always happen whenever Shamura is having a better, more lucid day. -They're almost perfectly timed to ruin the moment. Is Shamura in a good mood? Are they recovering more memories than usual? Are they bonding or trying to reconcile with their siblings? Are they actually befriending the other Followers? Suddenly they see red, and by the time they're lucid again whatever they had is poisoned and gone. -For some reason, this particular Curse seems have a strange effect on the Lamb. Whenever they get close to each other or have any sort of insightful conversation, it seems like instead of Shamura being hit by a bout of rage, they'll inevitably end up saying the wrong thing that will send the Lamb into a rage instead. Not even the Lamb knows why being around Shamura makes them so much easier to upset. -They end up becoming rather reclusive after realizing how they always seem to sabotage themselves and any bond they try to have, old or new. Not to mention horribly depressed. They even avoid the other Bishops whenever they feel particularly lucid.

[bbyboybucket]

this might be random but I feel like we need to address the fact that Bucky’s true arc in TFATWS was never about redemption, self-forgiveness, and his guilt.

His arc was overcoming loneliness. That was the true theme of growth for him in the show. Which is why it was so frequently, verbally mentioned and also shown. His loneliness is constantly reiterated. I mean, even looking at things from a very basic standpoint, the show starts with him isolating himself and having no close relationship and his final scenes are being accepted into a family and community.

His guilt and self-hatred are not just character trait but also a facet of his loneliness, and it’s necessary to elaborate on in relation to him being lonely. However, the reason why his arc feels messily written, and why there’s confusion and criticism on it, is because they didn’t properly incorporate guilt into the story of loneliness. It wasn’t well intertwined, which only led to fans not seeing that guilt and self-esteem wasn’t supposed to be what he overcame in the show. It’s why fans feel that his development with the guilt wasn’t properly handled, it’s because that was never supposed to be resolved completely in the show.

But the way they wrote it into his arc of overcoming loneliness was so non-fitting, that it gave off the impressive of a magical solution to the problem of guilt and a watered down exploration of it. Instead of properly being weaved into the main point of loneliness, the guilt and self-hated came across as almost a separate, poorly done part of the story.

If it was written with better care and was better related to the main arc of loneliness, there likely wouldn’t be as many complaints about how it was handled because people would more clearly see the guilt wasn’t supposed to be completely overcome. The show’s inclusion of it was just intended to show a step in the journey of self-forgiveness, while mainly focusing on the other issue of finding companionship.

So basically if Bucky’s arc would have been written more clearly, the intended arc of his loneliness would have had a better chance to shine, instead of fan’s anger and confusion overshadowing it. Because his growth from self-isolation and being utterly lonely to true friendship is fantastic. It’s genuinely amazing in that aspect. The arc of loneliness was a puzzle, and the aspects of his trauma, guilt, etc. were pieces that didn’t end up in the right place. So what could have been a fabulous arc, is simply a puzzle that was put together wrong.

[retiredficwriter]

me? being tagged by @jetsteelyourheart ?? what an honor!

just like the top 5 favorite characters: Make a poll with 5 of your favorite rarepairs/crackships. See which one is everyone's favorite!

i became too invested in this. some of these ships i haven't thought in years, so it was nice to relive the times i was obsessed with them. i narrowed it to one ship per media/fandom and just like my tag-buddy, I'll provide my questionable reasons/propaganda.

REASONS/PROPAGANDA

Sydney Sage/Trey Juarez:

so when i was first reading bloodlines, i read online that sydney gets a human boyfriend in book 2. i had heard about brayden but never in the context of HIM being the boyfriend, so i thought he was the random dude in book 1 (wasn't he, unironically, called hayden??) who asked sydney out. i was theorizing who that boyfriend would be until my brain went: "omg.... IS IT TREY??" and got soo hyped. i loved their interaction in book 1 and thought exploring them in a romantic setting would be so interesting, especially with the implication of trey having a major role. they are so similar (growing up in a cult, daddy issues, both being smart) and yet, trey has some adrian-like traits?? charming, popular in the dating pool, laidback... and it would create some tension between sydrian??? imagine adrian watching trey and sydney date and feeling discouraged because she found a human "version" of him?? and with trey being a warrior, he would try to get sydney to have the alchemist side with them and push the "moroi are evil" narrative, creating more doubts for sydney to rebel! BUT THEN SYDNEY HELPS TREY REBEL AGAINST THE WARRIORS!!

i love their friendship as is, and know for a fact they wouldn't last that long but man... i would have eat up their failed romance.

bonus point for an adrian/sydney/trey polycule

Rachel Berry/Sam Evans:

ah yes. my first ever rarepair. since that one episode in season 2 where she and finn helped sam with his young siblings, i fell in love with them. if you were in the glee fandom, you know every single couple was problematic one way or the other (this is the writers' fault). yet somehow, every relationship sam was in, it was the healthiest the woman he was with ever had. and i wanted that for rachel! i ate all the crumbs this show gave me, which were... almost nonexistent. the big difference between this rarepair and the others on this poll is that, in the show's final season, THEY BECAME CANON. I WAS SO HAPPY. they were very unpopular because it came out of nowhere and the writers only put them together to give rachel a love interest for the final season (and give the storyline they planned for finn to someone else), which... fair. but he was so caring, encouraging her to follow her dreams and telling her the tough truth about things she didn't want to hear. it was so good to see rachel heal from finn and her failed broadway dreams while with sam. (also she was less insufferable with him).

but then, ha... they broke up on the third to last episode of the series. so she could be with jesse who showed up out of nowhere on that same episode, after he "left" 4-3 seasons ago. don't get me wrong - i love st. berry! jonathan groff and lea michelle have chemistry! love ambitious broadway wannabes being a power couple! but why not, i don't know, put the storyline she had with sam with jesse instead so it could be more organic and avoid crushing my dreams???

i'm fine. not bitter at all. I'M FINE. I'M F-

Clarisse La Rue/Silena Beauregard (PJO):

this isn't a rarepair compared to the previous two, but within the pjo fandom, it isn't as popular (surprisingly?? at least in ao3. i'm so out of the loop). first time reading pjo, little old only thought of clarisse and silena as best friends. but as i got older and read more fan analysis of the series, i realized the tragedy of these two. either 1) clarisse had an unrequited crush 2) they dated and didn't work out 3) it was a failed situationship. the daughter of ares, the girl people in camp-half blood are so scared of because she is mean to everyone and can (and will) beat the shit out of them, had a wholesome friendship with the daughter of aphrodite, and one of the nicest people in the camp?? and this friendship appeared because silena helped clarisse with her "boy problems"??? and then clarisse basically protected and comforted silena after what happened with charlie?? no spoilers for those who haven't read the books, but they parallel a famous greek mythology couple and their ending hurts. still love silena/charlie, but god... poor clarisse...

can't wait to keep rereading the books and suffer once i get to their part!

Gary "Eggsy" Unwin/Roxy Morton (Kingsman)

everyone prefers hartwin and merlin/eggsy, but i can't help but love mortwin. i watched the first movie and loved their small moments. loved how they bonded over being the underdogs in the competition and, instead of becoming sworn enemies, they recognized each other as worthy opponents. their small fun, friendly-rivarly banter was cute. part of me was relieved they stayed as friends in the end... but i couldn't help but be soo disappointed. the chemistry? it was there!! even taron egerton said there was potential to explore a romance if given the chance! plus, i'm a sucker for well-developed friends-to-lovers.

never watched the sequel but after reading what the writers did to roxy, i'm glad i didn't and never will. i can now create my own sequel in my head and read fanfics of the story they deserve 😌

Bella Swan/Leah Clearwater (Twilight):

i want to thank this one brazilian fanfic i found years ago (and never wrote down the name and lost it 😔) for presenting me with this ship. everyone talks about bella/alice, bella/rosalie, bella/carlisle... but what about bella/leah??? think new moon, when bella has just been abandoned by edward, meeting the werewolves through jacob and therefore leah, who is still dealing with the whole paul/emily thing. they can still start out with leah hating bella but they can bond over being abandoned by their boyfriends and heal from it, and in the end realize they don't need them anymore - they can have each other!

i also love if edward still comes back and bella is conflicted, and it's a edward/bella/leah love triangle (apparently people ship edward/leah and how i never heard of it?! imagine the drama!!) i will take anything where jacob isn't involved

tagging @morocorra @forcebookish @artianaiolanthe @sydneysageivashkov + anyone who wants to do this!

[spidergrotto]

here is a bad draft people it is all i can give you guys i am so exhausted.

parker’s are good at running, it might just be their defining trait. may parker excelled at it, she picked up and moved cities and even the minorest of inconveniences. a fight between her and one of her new friends? she’s gone, a random bad week? you aren’t seeing her again.

so if things got rough, if she got in trouble or someone was upset with her— she ran as far away as she could.

just like her mom, just like her grandma. she ran and she never usually came back, not until ben.

ben who somehow convinced her to stay without even knowing it, ben who made commitment look appealing— ben who helped her look for jobs in nyc while packing her bags for australia, ben who never once pressured her into staying but all the same gave her the option to, ben who said yes when may ( dramatically ) asked him to marry her.

when peter came into their lives, despite everything— he somehow carried that parker gene, running away at every chance he got at every minor thing.

the two really did try to break him out of the habit, and technically they did; peter stopped running away at every argument or any failure. but that little habit was still there, his body choosing flight instead of fight when things got just a little bit too overwhelming.

but he didn’t run after ben passed, it was his fault it happened and he couldn’t just leave may behind after everything— so he stayed, he stayed and focused all of his attention onto school, taking care of may and the bills; and soon spider-man.

so when tony stark turned into more of a father than a mentor, when may was certain that both her and peter could trust him— she told him everything, forcing him to make a file about it all. reciting her own story; warning her of peters own tendency to run off because deep down she knew that if something happens to her peter would book it, he’d leave and god knows where he’d end up.

( skipping over endgame, tony lives because i said so? )

after may dies, peter had already made the decision to leave whether he realized it or not. the memory spell only made things easier, and while the plan WAS to visit dr.strange again and figure out a way to reverse the effects of the spell on the people he cared about, peter knew that the moment he thought it was safe he’d be out of there in seconds.

mj wasnt an idiot either, she had known of this character flaw for awhile and didn’t put it past peter. so when he promises to tell her the truth the second the spell is over— when he tries to convince her that he isn’t going anywhere, she rolls her eyes.

“just make sure you come back okay? i don’t care if you’re all the way in south africa fighting off a new villian of the day, or if you’re scared i’ll be angry, just make sure to come back.”

and ned shoves him into a hug, telling him that if he needs to run away from wherever the hell he ends up going to come straight to his apartment just like he did when he was younger.

peter doesn’t dignify either with a verbal response, he just nods— giving them a small smile, quietly promising that he’d find them.

and we cut to tony stark, freshly recovered ( he should NOT be standing, he had woken up just a week earlier. ) reading through dozens of corrupted files and comes across two titled “runaway parker’s” and “peter’s memory spell schematics.”

when did he start playing hide n seek with a vigilante teen? and why the hell did he have so many files for him and spider-man?