#And second of all if you want to use glaze's web page you have to come in contact with devs and provide them with your art examples and even

[acgames]

I have seen some posts about Glaze and it's use to poision one's art so to deter AI of using it, and yet it's so tedious, it's really worth it if you make money out of your art tbh...

[siriusmydeer]

Sirius x twin!reader where he runs away and doesn't say goodbye or anything, and they've always had a bad relationship because reader is like regulus and sirius is, well, sirius. baso angst where the reader is now ignoring sirius at hogwarts and sirius is trying to talk to her which is strange because before it was the other way round. she snaps and tells sirius how he knew what would happen if she ran away, and it was that she would get twice as many bad things to make up for sirius not (1)

the forgotten sister

sirius black x fem!twin!slytherin!reader

summary: sirius leaves you with aching despair the the faults that comes with being a black heir.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: child abuse, arranged marriage, angst, mentions of being imprisoned, mentions of death, mentions of violence, being disowned, mentions of death eaters, bad mental health, insinuation of depression, insinuation of a panic attack and bad sibling relationships

a/n: rate this cuz idk how to write angst but this has been sitting in my inbox for so long i’m so sorry

despair.

dejection.

guilt.

it was clear as day in your thought-stricken mind, without a second thought it ran thickly through your families veins for generations. every single heir of the noble house of black had the one ranging emotion of anything in a malicious, loathsome, vile and horrid context.

brothers, they were suppose to protect their siblings, love and nurture them above anyone else. they were suppose to kiss your forehead when you were sad, play with your barbies till they wanted to rip out their eyes because you had nobody else to play with, they were suppose to show another emotion than trepidation.

twins, the bond shared between them in unmatchable to any other sibling, they shared a womb for nine months, a direct bond, no seperation for nine months, thirty nine weeks, two hundred and seventy three days, a total of six hundred, five thousand and seventy hours together. a bond that should last a lifetime, of happiness, absentminded chuckles, homeliness, and love.

that’s what it should have, that’s how it should look in the peering eyes of anyone who had looked upon the similar featured siblings.

sixteen years, the only thing you had receiving in attempts of happiness, absentminded chuckles, homeliness, and love; but not everybody got what they wanted, in return you had received the raw sickly end of despair, dejection and guilt. what could such a young girl do to upset her brother from the very second her life begun? since the first weep that left sirius’ mouth, it almost felt like a duty ringing through your brain like a recurrent lullaby rather than a curse to be ignored by your family, and to only serve them when they deemed necessary for your forgotten presence.

rather than the lullaby on how a spider ran up a web, the only word familiar words in your brain since the ripe age of six was ‘crucio.’ the red tinging flare that sped across your living room like a jolt of lightening from the sky had just become a familiar sight to see at while your panic stricken figure strided through your house for just a few seconds more of peace.

dense words could be shared with your twin, not even a ‘good morning’ on most days. maybe a subtle nod when he first saw you as you both woke from your slumber if you were lucky, maybe even a sparing glance once or twice throughout the day. the first and last born female at the hands of walburga and orion black was simply ignored, a nobody, absolutely and completely nothing.

atleast sirius was there, he may not have spoke to you, or even looked in your direction but his presence in the dreadful household could’ve been enough, enough to put your blearing mind at ease for the night. that you had survived another day, that the next passing day his presence still comforted you because he was still there, that even though he didn’t protect you; he could protect regulus when he deemed fit, and as much as it put you in a absentminded agony, you appreciated his efforts to your youngest brother.

the following morning you woke up, his presence was diminished. his aura had vanished, the pungent smell of nicotine had left no trace on the stygian walls, the husk smell of expensive leather no longer enveloped in your ventilation and the irritating scent of his nose itching cologne was in absentia.

twin-tuition the muggles muttered, when two siblings who shared a whom could know almost everything and anything about each other without a second blip of thought. the walk to his room was excruciating, because in your heart his comforting presence had fled. the pink floyd and beatles posters had been torn from the walls, the mahogany wood from his drawers had been completely dismembered and his closet had been utterly ransacked.

he had left; he had left you.

that was the feeling of despair.

not even a note in his absence, not an explanation, not a second thought, sirius was gone; and sirius was not ever coming back.

the duration of the winter ‘holidays’ had seemingly passed slower than usual with the absence of your brother, the dismembering two weeks had finally been put on hold on your mind. finally finding the will to get out of your bed and put your mental health back to where it could’ve functioned at a less than normal way, the usual way. except you were sent back onto the hogwarts express only clinging onto the younger brother you had left, mind you he would’ve went off the second he stepped aboard but three seconds with your brother could’ve put you off for nine hours.

there was no will to try, no persuasive black ‘i get what i want’ attitude left churning in your system, the feeling of disgust trembling through your veins that your family would never accept you as long as you remained ‘y/n’ and not ‘y/n black,’ so you had to do what was right to protect regulus. because even though his nurturing feelings were inattentive, you would still do what was necessary to protect him.

if you weren’t the keen resemblance of your family you could’ve believed that you were adopted, having no will to become a follower of the dark lord, and no will to produce dark magic.

yet, you did what you had to do, an action that in no way would have been thought about for you; but you had what the other noble heirs lacked, compassion.

every corner you turned you had no will to search for the gryffindor brunette, your eyes didn’t erratically search for his searing silver irises, you didn’t attempt to decipher the red and gold colours from the green and silver that could’ve been crowded amongst the library, or the great hall. any will you had left for the receiving end of love from your family had utterly vanished.

that was the feeling of dejection.

sirius knew that prior years to hogwarts that you had rapidly searched for him in every single corner, mind you even there was a possibility he wasn’t there; you never faltered, you still gaped intently. it gave him the slight aching pain that he carried with himself, but the viridescent green you wore had him believing that you were simply no better than lucius malfoy or evan rosier.

it began to itch at his neck that you no longer had the need to know if he cared, if he was in the same room as you, if you even had the decree to call him your brother anymore. seemingly, you were always in between the walls of the library, a vermillion, maybe amber hued book sturdy between your hands in your grasp as you flipped the pages.

if you hadn’t shared the infamous last name, people would have never believed the two of you were what you called siblings, twin brother and sister. the epitome prankster, outgoing, and womanizer of hogwarts, the timid, skittish, quiet pureblood slytherin; and they just happened to share the same blood.

the female twin adorned reading, not because each book had different words carved upon its ivory paper, and not because there were hidden messages upon the words she so happen to enjoy deciphering but she loved reading partially because it allowed her to cry over someone else’s sadness when she could no longer identify her own.

her heart left sunken, submerged into somebody else’s misery because her own feelings enough weren’t able to bare.

he was silent for once, his mouth not barking up a laugh with his mates, he wasn’t sauntering around like he owned hogwarts himself, he was timidly walking into the depths of the library that were hidden from students. he was suddenly thoughtless, but his mind was not clear, and now face to face with the ghost of his sister; someone whom he had no intention to know, but now the wave of empathy ridden into his bloodstream as he saw the sudden tears glaze her eyes.

“you— you don’t look for me anymore. i noticed that, you don’t try and, try and look.” he started almost rudely, the first sentence he had ever uttered to his sibling was assumably how she didn’t care for his presence anymore. he was unable to produce many words at his shock, his nimble fingers anxiously shoving themselves into the grey slacks he had boughten for this years semester.

“i tried, at first. but you’re not worth a look anymore, sirius, because everywhere i go, the shadow of you is all i see.” as you contributed your words they only continued to be more broken, and stammered. the whimper in your tone clear as day as you spoke to someone you once called family, and now a sudden stranger.

“you left sirius, you left your sister, you left your brother. you left the people that needed you most because you’re selfish, you were thinking of you, not of us. so you don’t fucking deserve to be considered anymore, you don’t earn my respect on being thought about, sirius,” you were tired, achingly tired of fighting. you were tremendously exhausted of trying to fight for just a tinge of acknowledgments from your family members.

“you knew if you ran and you didn’t take us with you it would get worse, and you did it anyway. that makes you a coward, i guess the sorting hat does make mistakes after all.” you concluded, now wearied from your brother suddenly giving you the time of day when you don’t care to yearn for it anymore. his decisions affecting you single-handedly the most, your emotions no longer considering his aching feelings as his sister dismissed him at the similar treatment you had recurrently received.

“now i’ve got this penetrating, life altering ink on my wrist, because of your foolish actions. i have to pay for it, and a husband awaiting me. so now that you’re going all cry baby on me because i don’t try and find you anymore, you can stick your dreary where it came from because your damage is done.”

he had no thoughts, no words, completely ambushed. his older twin sister, someone whomst he adorned as his role model as a young boy, something he would never admit to as a child due to his stubborn nature, was now a death eater and profused in an arranged marriage because he couldn’t give a thought about his despairing twin. but now sirius had finally revived the raw end of the final emotion,

he had felt the emotion of guilt.

because even though he was trying to scoundrel some effort of empathy towards you the only thing displayed in front of him was the way your eyes spoke a thousand words but no one ever took the time to read them.

he never took time to read them.

“you need to leave— you need to run! w—why are you still there?” he started to hastily question as he peered at you erratically. his mind suddenly starting to boggle with questions as to why you would keep yourself in such a harmful situation, why you wouldn’t just run like he did.

it was simple to you, you weren’t selfish, you weren’t sirius.

“because i cannot leave regulus in that god forsaken house, the dark lord and his pesky followers would find me, and our parents would torture me, and murder me without remorse.” you finished, saying it too him like you had scribbled it upon a paper and practiced reading it every night like you were preparing for an exam, as if you would be questioned and persuaded to leave under the hands of your parents.

“i heard you— with regulus, you wanted to take him but not me. you almost brought him with you to the potters,” you revealed to the gryffindor, finally having the will to tell him clearly, on how he had wronged you in life and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix his actions.

“why do you never pick me sirius? why do you not want me as your sister? ‘ve always tried to protect you, why haven’t you done the same?!” at first your tone was monotone, almost dead but as your words continued your patience grew shorter and your rage grew larger.

your hand further having to clasp over your mouth by the end of your sentence before your classmates would’ve have gotten curious, and nosy at the altercation that was happening between the death eater and the disowned behind the shelves.

“i don’t— i don’t know, i just, s’different.” he was left thinking in confusion as to why he treated you differently, maybe it’s because you were the eldest, maybe you were female and in his eyes you possibly resembled his mother, maybe he had absolutely no idea as to why he treated you different.

“you dont— you don’t know? suddenly when i don’t give a shit about you, your yearning for your older sisters love. well guess what sirius, you’re not going to get it. your damage is done and there’s nothing to reverse it; so bugger off with your gryffindor mates, and your new family. if you want regulus to have a decent life from what he can live left, take him now before they take him too.” you concluded,

your first and last conversation occurring with your brother, several words left unsaid as you left him dumbfounded in the library, feeling the shoulder on shoulder collision as you left.

breathe in, breathe out. simple, again, again, again. the valley of tears were almost screaming at your waterline to let loose, to cry, to scream, to do something, anything. perhaps instead, you stood astonishingly still inside the girls lavatory, thinking, just thinking.

‘what did i do in my past life to deserve this now’ it was a simple and clear question, one that could never be answered, one without an explanation.

but yet you yearned for such a simple, yet complicated answer, maybe in another life sirius had the will to know you, your parents had the decree to love you, and maybe you weren’t sent down a path of affliction.

but that was another life, it wasn’t yours.

time went by, seconds, minutes, hours, weeks and years. they flew by, and now you were no longer that sixteen year old girl. you were eighteen, dressed in ivory with a small train at your feet, makeup painted on your eyelids, a small veil placed onto your head and your hands throughly squeezed in another’s; with the dreadful matching injected ink into your inner left fore-arms.

as the years had flew to that moment, lost was a lovely place to find yourself, but it simply wasn’t enough; it would never be enough. you had to wear the mask, ever noble heir of black had their own personal one, the one that covered every detailed flaw of you.

because after watching both of your brother’s, your supposed nurturers, your protectors, the ones that were suppose to love each and every bit of your aching soul left, you never realized how strong you had to be until being strong was your only choice that remained.

because in essence happiness is just blissful delusion, that esentially wouldn’t last forever no matter how exceedingly much you pleaded to merlin for it too last a second, maybe a minute if you were lucky.

but noble heirs of black weren’t lucky, they were cursed. and now you were finally brought upon to carry the tradition your children would be barred with, now carrying the last name of ‘dolohov.’

still remembering clear as day, like the sun was beaming into your viewpoint that one conversation you had shared with sirius in the library. the despairing love still left in your heart for your brother, your brother who stood up for regulus.

no matter how much they dismissed you as their protector, as their sister, as someone who loved them, you would always carry love for them in your trembling heart. after the amount of curses you took in their place, the screaming threats, the weeps from both of your brothers that stained your clothes, the times you had to face your parents in their absence.

you still had love for them, even if it wasn’t returned.

perhaps someday when you found the courage you crawl back home, beaten, defeated, maybe half dead. but not as long as you could remember the mark of family embedded into your heart, and your arm.

the noble heir’s of black, imprisoned, dead, and married off.

taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @artemis1orion @sirius-animagus @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @kirascottage @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) 莫弈 [剧情: 第2章] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi Private Story Translations (Chapter 2-6)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Mo Yi’s Private Story tag is #Tears of a Personal Psychiatrist. *Chapter 1 can be viewed here!

Location: Mo's Mental Health Research Center

After the questioning session, Mo Yi and I both came to the conclusion that Li Yu had been lying.

But a coffee shop with a huge influx of customers wasn’t really the place to be talking about things like this, therefore, we both returned back to Mo Yi’s Research Center to continue our discussion about Li Yu.

MC: You think Li Yu’s lying too? I was worried that maybe I was just overthinking things.

Mo Yi: Of course; the contradictions on her person were obvious enough, but before that...

He poured a cup of tea, gently nudging it towards me.

Mo Yi: Humor me and my selfishness a little, would you? Can I hear what you think about this first?

MC: Sure. You can also help me see if there are any loopholes in my own conclusions.

Mo Yi: Okay.

MC: The story that Li Yu told was very distinct, and very confusing.

MC: The “Five-step trapping method” was perfect and complete without a single fault or flaw; so much that it was to the point of being fake.

MC: But;

Mo Yi: But, what?

MC: Maybe she wanted to put the focus on the five-steps. That’s why she glazed over the more important details of the questions.

Li Yu’s slightly panicked expression flashed through my mind, making me frown.

MC: Firstly, she’d secretly downloaded the social application that everyone around her had been using out of curiosity; intending to try it out for herself.

MC: The system recommended Wang Chen to her after she had filled in the APP’s information collecting questionnaire. That’s when they both had their first contact with each other.

MC: ...But if that’s the case here, then some of her previous statements as well as some of the things she did will be, logically speaking, contradictory of itself.

Mo Yi: Oh?

MC: At that time, I had asked her if she usually used social software like this. Her answer was no.

MC: She'd also added that she had only wanted to take a look before deleting it immediately after.

MC: If so, then why would she waste so much time filling in that content-heavy questionnaire? And even then, why truthfully so?

Mo Yi: Maybe it's just a mandatory requirement from the software itself? Or perhaps Li Yu's just the type of person who's so serious that she's stubborn to a fault?

MC: ...We can't rule out that possibility either; but this isn't the only strange thing at this point.

MC: How would Wang Chen have ever known about that one unique line of hers if she didn't set up her own profile page?

MC: Even if the system was able to match people in accordance with their interests, even taking it a step further and connecting the two who both love the same title.

MC: This is still a line unique to herself. So just how will someone else, not to mention, a stranger, even learn about it all so easily like that?

I looked at Mo Yi, seeking his opinion.

He nodded.

Mo YI: Any other suspicious points?

MC: Yes. The second strange thing about all of this is the reason behind her suicidal scars.

MC: Li Yu said that those wounds were inflicted after they had broken up, because she couldn't bear to leave him; and used this as a way to convince him to get back together with her, but...

MC: But the end-goal of all PUAs tend to be the complete emotional obedience of the girl.

MC: In order to attain this goal, they'll have to be the one to take the initiative throughout all their interactions together and take control of their relationship. This is the only way that PUAs can guarantee that the girl will be put through the "Five-step Trap" according to every dictated step, until they completely fall apart in a desperate mess.

MC: But in Li Yu's case, this dynamic appears to have been switched since Wang Chen was the one making the compromises. This fails to fall in line with the usual PUA line of thought.

Mo Yi: But then, what if Wang Chen’s motive was to crush Li Yu’s self-esteem? He did accomplish that in the end after all.

MC: No. Generally speaking, when the girl reaches the state where their self-esteem has been all but crushed, they'd have already built a high level of emotional dependence with the PUA.

MC: Only through doing this, will the PUA be able to make a mountain out of a molehill with the girl's mistakes, using it to completely destroy their personality.

MC: Let's suppose that Wang Chen wished to use how she had "previously tried to break up" as the mistake to amplify; if so, then,

MC: He'd have to first ensure that Li Yu's emotional dependence on him is at a high enough level that she'd definitely want to get back together with him after breaking up; but…

I recalled what Li Yu had said back then.

MC: Li Yu suggested a breakup because she couldn't stomach how Wang Chen was also simultaneously dating many other girls. This goes to show that she has still maintained her sense of reason.

MC: Under these circumstances, there is a higher chance that Li Yu wouldn't get back with him. On the contrary, Wang Chen blocking her seems to be the more reasonable response here.

MC: If I were in his shoes, I'd much rather maintain the romantic relationship we have going between us and continue "brain-washing" Li Yu, rather than to run the risk of losing my prey.

MC: This way, all the previous work I've done doesn't go to waste, am I right?

MC: Besides… How should I put this…? The way she presented herself already exposed her.

Mo Yi: ……

MC: If I'm not wrong, that shiny thing under her eyes was probably to make her lower eyelids appear plumper to sell the "teary eyed" look.

MC: And judging from the color of the scars on her hand… I'd say that that was special effects make-up at play.

Having said that, I couldn't help but to sigh, feeling conflicted and semi-dejected about it all.

After hearing my explanation, Mo Yi's mood appeared no worse for the wear. He lowered his eyes as he thought on it for a while before the sides of his mouth slightly lifted.

Mo Yi: It looks like you don’t need me to explain anything anymore; you’ve already thought this whole thing through.

MC: Did you conclude that Li Yu was lying through these factors too?

Mo Yi: Not completely. The reason why I deduced as such was mainly through her moods and state of being as she spoke.

MC: Her mood and her state of being?

Mo Yi: Correct. It's normally a difficult feat for someone to remain completely impartial and rational when it comes to someone else, or another matter.

Mo Yi: This is especially true for PUA Victims. As they sink deeper and deeper into the web of lies that the opposing party weaves, they'll end up losing their judgement towards reality in exchange.

Mo Yi: If you study the self-accounts of these victims in detail, you’ll come to realize that most of them veer more towards “feeling” than “reason”.

Mo Yi: It is hard for them to take an impartial stance and completely tell someone else about the PUA techniques that they’ve been subjected to.

Mo Yu: But Li Yu was different.

I don’t know what thought had just slid into his mind, but his lips quirked up in a hint of mockery.

Mo Yi: The logic and explanation she gave was clear; the important points were all clearly highlighted. All the steps of the “Five-step Trap”; it’s progress, is clearly shown in her story.

Mo Yi: Also, Li Yu didn’t have any emotional fluctuations while she was re-telling the entire story, asides from the couple of times where she displayed some un-interesting waterworks, if it even counts.

MC: ...No wonder she gave me a weird sense of disconnect when I talked to her; It’s just as if she’s...

Mo Yi: As if she’s a third-party, who’s telling a story that has absolutely nothing to do with herself. It doesn’t hurt, nor does it tickle; but she has to put on an act by faking emotions.

MC: That’s it; that’s just how it feels like! Although she’d occasionally break out into tears at the table, I can’t really feel that she’s actually upset or anything like that.

MC: But based on what she said, she’d obviously already gone so far down the hole that she even contemplated suicide. If so, then how can she still be so calm?

Mo Yi: That’s precisely the case here.

MC: ...I’ve still got to give Li Yu a pat on the back for being able to make such an almost realistic lie.

MC: Truth to be told, if I didn’t notice the way she had presented herself and held onto a shred of suspicion, it’d be hard for me to say for sure that I wouldn’t fall for her bluff.

Mo Yi: Actually, what Li Yu said wasn’t entirely a lie. It was something fabricated from truth.

MC: A lie fabricated from truth!?

His words held such profound meaning that it shocked me the moment it came out of his mouth.

MC: Wha… Sorry, Dr. Mo; I really don’t understand what you’re getting at this time.

Mo Yi: It’s a very clever and high-handed way of doing things. I’d never have thought of this either, if I hadn’t noticed her little slip ups during her conversation.

Mo Yi: Earlier, you said that she had presented many loopholes when speaking of the details pertaining to the matter throughout the conversation; correct?

MC: Yes.

Mo Yi: Knowing all of the specifics detailing the “Five-step Trap”, yet nothing about the details when it comes to daily life.

Mo Yi: There's only one way this sort of narrative will appear in PUA-related cases.

MC: How?

Mo Yi: Most of the so-called "relationship mentors" use this sort of narratives to share their "hunting methods" with others when writing their own accounts.

MC: Dr. Mo, are you saying that Li Yu is...

Mo Yi: That's right. I think Li Yu should be someone from the PUA group herself; a staff member who’s responsible for converting the experiences of the Mentors into actual text.

Mo Yi: She put several cases to her knowledge to use by piecing them into a story. And it’s precisely because she’d haphazardly pieced them together, that the logical loopholes came to be.

Mo Yi: I think that the truth that binds all these stories together beneath the lie should be that Wang Chen had found a girl to target through a social media platform.

Mo Yi: Disguising himself as his persona of a “poet”, he approaches his target through an extremely targeted approach, succeeds, and everything goes smoothly without so much as a hitch.

Mo Yi: But the good times didn’t last long, for the girl realizes just who he really was and asked to break up; Wang Chen could only accede.

Mo Yi: This story should have ended here, at this point; but a story like this isn’t captivating at all, so she added suicide to the fray.

MC: Captivating…? So, you’re saying that Li Yu is knowingly trying to get us to investigate Wang Chen by guiding us to him?

MC: Hang on… I remember that she’d asked about the whole incident with He Kunpeng before she left, which means...

MC: Li Yu came charging headfirst at us! The groups that both she and Wang Chen hail from should be the very same one that we’re looking for!

Mo Yi: Correct.

MC: But if that’s the case, then wouldn’t it mean that the progress of our investigation has already been exposed?

Mo Yi: Probably not; Li Yu wouldn’t have asked you over and over again if you’d found any important leads otherwise.

Mo Yi: This is similar to how that chat group has suddenly disappeared; I think the other party is only aware of our actions.

Mo Yi: It’s just that this time, they got the information from somewhere or another that we were looking for a PUA Mentor who had hurt female students before, so that’s why...

Mo Yi: Rather than being a sitting duck and awaiting their own doom, how about taking the initiative and making the first move? Maybe abandoning this “pawn” that’s already been targeted will be able to save the rest of this game of chess.

Mo Yi: And Wang Chen just so happens to be both the one we’re looking for, and the “pawn”.

He expressed his deductions slowly and impactfully, answering several of the questions that had been nagging at me along his train of thought.

MC: So, we’re still going to investigate Wang Chen?

Mo Yi: Of course. A “pawn” he might be, but as long as he’s been on the chessboard before, he’ll have definitely left traces in his wake.

MC: If that’s the case, then let’s make the best of our time and act fast.

I enthusiastically voiced my assent and invited him to proceed on together, but he had suddenly gone quiet.

He looked at me quietly for a while before he finally spoke. But the words that left his lips were akin to a basin of cold water that had been set outside in a cold winter’s day, bearing a cold and biting chill.

Mo Yi: It'll be for the best if you don't take part in the upcoming course of action.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-4) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-7)

[supertweetycherry]

DIE HARD || [iv. Girl Talks and Boys]

—Pairings: BTS x OC

—Genre: BTS Mafia Au, Slight Fluff, Angst (a lot of it), Heartbreak, Thriller

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R

—Warnings: Abuse, Rude Behaviour, Fighting, Blood, Death, Weapons/Blades and Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Killing.

—Summary: She belong to them. They belong to her. It’s simple as that. Period.

—Word Count: 7k

 Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Part 2 || Part 4>>

Chapter 3 - Girl Talks and Boys 

“—the local law enforcements in South Korea are still working on the case of the famous murder mystery of the Lee Enterprise executive director, Jung Jae-hee. The case has become a global interest as it is related to the world’s most dangerous and notorious gang of the decade. Tweets, news articles and unseen videos are being surfaced around the web, with ‘Bangtan’ trending on social media. It is being speculated that the notorious group of viscous killers are residing here in America, causing fear and a state-wide panic around the country. The United States government has yet to say anything official about the rumors. Till then, the focus has been shifted onto the murder case and the increasing mafia activities in South Korea—”

Yoona hummed to herself as she sipped onto her herbal tea for the tenth time in the past hour. Her small fingers cupping the warm cup as her ears continued to pick up the words of the nearest news channels playing in the large cafeteria.

It has been few days since the actual incident and people are still continuing to hear the old, recycled news over and over again. The amount of channels covering this piece of segment for the last few days has left a large gaping hole in Yoona’s ears. She was sick, tired and exhausted of it.

Yes, a murder happened in her home country.

Yes, the victim was her former boss.

And yes, the culprits might be the worldwide famous gang called ‘Bangtan’. A native Korean gang who had appeared out of nowhere.

So what? Deal with it! 

Yoona sighed loudly as she buried her face into her arms. Her ears picked up the change in the news reporter’s voice. It seemed more feminine now. Pulling her head up a bit, she glanced at the large TV as a new segment rolled in.

“—moving on, the three-day search for the two college girls in Beverly Hills has now come to an end as the local authorities here in the downtown Los Angeles, discovered a series of dead bodies in the Chinatown district of the city. A total of five girls were found, dead and tortured, with their vital organs missing from their bodies. Two of those bodies matched the description of the two missing girls while others are still unaccounted for. The bodies have started to decompose suggesting that they’ve been dead for quite a while before a citizen of Chinatown found them in a ditch near his area—”

The 26 year old groaned and rubbed her ears in frustration as the segment ate her brain up, again.  She dipped her head back into her arms, pushing the warm beverage away from her fingers. Sure, she felt remorse, pity and sadness for the dead girls but it also annoyed her that her surroundings are filled with so much of negativity. It triggered her in a way that she didn’t like.

That is until... a large folder slammed onto the white table infront of her. The loud bang that erupted from it was enough for yoona’s tired, aching muscles to tense up again. She had to hold down her cup tightly before it could jump and topple down the table due to the vibrations.

“You know, a small warning would have been sufficed.” Yoona said slowly as she threw a slight glare at the person who dared to interrupt her personal ‘me-time’.

“Bitch please. You should be happy that a mere peasant like you has the honour to be in my holy presence. Not even kings can afford me.”

This only earned the intruder a mocking eye-roll from the 26 year old beauty.

“Don’t you have work to do, your highness?” Yoona mocked as her shaking nerves relaxed. She pulled herself up and continued to drink her warm tea. But it wasn’t warm anymore.

“Not when there’s juicy gossip.” Her friend smirked before shoving the said folder in Yoona’s direction. Yoona stared at it blankly. It was black in colour and looked quite thick. “It’s about Jung Jae-hee.”

“No.”

The mere mention of the late director was enough for Yoona to do a 360 turn and never look back again. She picked up her cold tea and left the small table she was sitting on.

“Yuriii...”

“No, Suzy.” Yoona ignored her friend’s whining as she dumped her cold tea through the drain before leaving the blue coloured cup in the sink. “Why are you all so obsessed with her death? People die all the time. Just get over it.”

The little shiver in the older girl’s voice should have been enough for Suzy to stop pestering her friend. But like the stubborn chick she is, Suzy continued in her voyage to tell the new juicy gossip she had discovered recently.

Yoona didn’t like it when her only friend gave her a sudden smirk before pushing her right through the fire exit’s door and right into the stairs that suddenly appeared in her view.

“Suzy!” Yoona exclaimed when she realised that the younger girl had practically kidnapped her.

“Shush.”

“But—”

“I said shush, Yuri. I need some girl time with you. And this, my friend, is the best way we can relish our old memories, considering hardly anyone looks our way these days.”

That was true. Yoona couldn’t deny that fact. They were the noisy, cheap girls of the company. No-one gave them a second glance unless they needed a one-night stand or something. Yoona wasn’t exactly sure how they gained that reputation. She had never been active in her love life unlike her friend, Suzy. Yoona had kept herself quiet, timid and hidden most of the time. Infact, she’s a pure virgin, with no skills at batting her eye lashes at any pretty boy. So, why?

“You want us to bond over a murder case?”

“No, I want us to bond over the world’s most dangerous species... boys.” The girl exclaimed, making Yoona groan.

Boys is a topic that Yoona tends to stay away from. There are just too many old and painful memories associated with them.

“Come on, don’t be a spoil sport. There are many varieties in here.” Suzy insisted as she pulled Yoona near the steel railings where they found a clean spot to sit on. The older girl didn’t like how open and wide spread the exit was. She peeked down to see an array of blue stairs leading down to the ground floor. They were designed in a zigzag formation, continuing on and on for what seemed like, forever.

It wasn’t Yoona’s first time at being kidnapped by her friend. Suzy had done that to her many times on multiple different occasions. But today, the familiar scenery of the descending stairs was unwelcoming. Not to mention, the see-through glass that acted as the walls of this passageway was too exposing and open for her taste. She could literally see the giant skyscrapers from here with a visibility record of 100%.

Yeah... Lee Enterprise is too rich for their own good.

“So, this baby here—” Suzy held up the thick folder. “—was delivered to the queen boss this morning. And like the curious, evil person I am, I snagged it before she could have a chance to read through the papers.”

Yoona raised her eyebrows at this before shaking her head in disappointment.

“No wonder files kept disappearing around Ji-Soo. She’s too dumb to notice her surroundings.”

“Exactly.” Suzy smirked before flipping through the pages. “And that is how ARIA files must have been stolen from her desk. She really needs to invest in a good secretary.”

Yoona couldn’t help but smile at this. Her uncle’s plaything ‘ARIA’ has been unresponsive for the past few days. The files continued to be missing while no-one has any idea as to what has been going on with ARIA. The large casino building is one of their major money-making sites here in the American branch.

“Anyways, back to the topic, there’s a postmortem report in this folder indicating that our lovely girl, Jung Jae-hee, might not be so innocent as we thought.” Suzy teased, flickering to a page filled with numerous Hangul symbols. “I’m not great at reading Hangul, but by the look of this, I can tell, Jae-hee had an intimate intercourse with her killer. It was right before she was killed. How exciting is that?”

Yoona was spooked by her friend’s glazed eyes.

“Exciting? How is it exciting?” She questioned.  

“You very dumb dumb bimbo...” Suzy groaned, hitting Yoona on the head. “Jae-hee was known to have a special, unique taste in men. Whoever she chose to be worthy of her attention, was a diamond from the rarest mines. Think about all the boys that surrounded her. Danny, Brad, Jackson, Bambam and our very own, Taemin.”

The older girl scoffed at her eldest cousin’s name.

“Taemin had a crush on her?” Yoona asked, whacking her brain to remember all the interactions between the two people she despises.

“He still does. Why do you think this baby is here in my hands?” Suzy said in glee, pointing at the opened folder.

“So, what’s the point?”

“The point is that my dear Yuri, Jae-hee had an impeccable taste in men. Which means whoever she had sex with was just as impeccable as her taste. Wanna see who that could be? There are few delicious choices in here.”

The older girl felt scared at her friend’s weird taste in men. She wanted them to bond over a series of hot killers? No thanks.

“No.” Yoona said, shaking her head. “You seriously have a messed up kink regarding these ‘delicious choices’. I’m not interested.” She continued, standing up on her feet.

“Honey, you haven't experienced the dark, steamy side of the world of guns. So women up and sit down.” The younger girl pressured, tugging down on Yoona, forcibly. The force of the little tug, sent the older girl spiralling down onto her bottom.

“Ya!” Yoona shrieked but was ignored by the younger girl.

Suzy threw a smirk in Yoona’s direction before she opened her mouth to recite the names of the killers like an intimate, sex broadcast on a radio.

Yeah, she was that crazy.

“Suspect number one: Do Kyung-soo. Code name is D.O. Height is unknown and DOB is unknown. His occupation is being a freelance hot-headed assassin. He has a body count of 256 people including both women and children. He fights with his hands and bites with his mouth. Known to be very brutal with his victims and has a large thirst towards sex. He’s the maniac elf that even the local law enforcement can’t control.” Suzy read off the folder as Yoona sighed in defeat. She made herself comfortable on the stairs before glancing at the photo of the man that her friend was so intimately reading about.

“The guy looks normal to me.” Yoona commented, not feeling any kind of attraction from the young-ish looking boy. “He’s a bit cute, but not cute enough.”

“You hardly feel anything towards any boy, sweetheart.”

Yoona forced a smile back in her friend’s direction. If only her friend knew about the lost boys from her past.

“So, who’s next?”

Suzy gave a bright smile to Yoona. She patted the older girl in affection before flipping the page to the next person.

“Suspect number two: Kwon Ji-yong. Code name: G-dragon. He’s a sniper, mainly works for the local gang called ‘Big Bang’. But it says here, he’s known to have involved in various assassinations of high profile victims. He’s a bit old for our age but still, he has an impeccable taste in women. Who knows Jae-hee might have fucked him before she departed to hell.”

Yoona looked closely at the picture. The guy looked a bit familiar. Or was it his eyes that reminded her of someone?

“Wait...” she said slowly, letting an old memory resurface. “Isn’t he—”

“Yup. The one and only.” Suzy nodded, cutting her off with a wicked smirk. “Jae-hee must have been one lucky girl to bang one of the most wanted criminals in the world.”

Kwon Ji-yong, AKA the G-dragon, was one of the snipers who was involved in the assassination of Donald Trump, the deceased president of United States of America. The attack took place an year ago. Upon deeper investigations, it was revealed that a series of snipers and killers were hired to kill the president. It was a month of horror for all of Americans and the president himself. There were so many attacks, so many explosions, the streets were flooded with criminals trying to get to the 73 year old man. But in the end, it was the two Asian killers who managed to cut the old man off. And Kwon Ji-yong was one of those Asian killers. The only one who had his face plastered on every news channel.

“Wow..” Yoona gaped at the new information.

“I know right? When I saw him, I had the same reaction.” Suzy commented, running her fingers through the photo. “Too bad he's a wanted criminal. I would have loved to bang this beauty.”

Yoona cringed at the cliche.

“He has a tattoo.” She offered, trying to get Suzy’s glazed eyes off the photo. “A large insect tattoo.”

“So he does.” Her friend teased with a devilish smirk.

“And multiple ear piercings.”

“So he does.”

“He’s not good. He’s bad.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Suzy countered with another smirk. “After all, bad boys are known to bring the heaven to you.”

Yoona groaned at her friend’s infatuation with criminal boys. The very first year into their friendship, Yoona had discovered the crazy obsession of bad boys that lives inside the younger girl. It peeked out from time to time whenever the younger girl’s sexual frustration increased, which by the way was a lot of times. Maybe that’s why the 24 year old was no longer a virgin. The pure innocence was lost in a dark, steamy one night stand three years ago.

“You’re still stuck on that boy, aren’t you?” Yoona questioned when she saw Suzy fingering the little trinket in her neck. It was a little necklace piece shaped into a Bluebell, hanging dangerously close to her round cleavage. It always makes a bell like noise whenever it was moved by her fingers or her olive skin.

“Who?” Suzy asked, snapping out of her glazed look. She was still fingering the little necklace.

“You know... that tall, steamy, purple-haired sex god who let you ride him for hours and hours.” Yoona teased, finally enjoying the moment.

A small hue of red appeared on Suzy’s cheeks. Her lips curled into a small smile as a warm feeling entered her chest.

Yoona chuckled at the blushing young girl. That boy must have been very special to cause the great Bae Suzy to blush like a little girl.

“Hush... stop laughing. It’s not funny. We’re going off topic!” Suzy exclaimed, flicking at Yoona’s obvious giggling state. “Yuri, Stop!” The younger begged. “We have to focus on Jae-hee!”

“Oh come on!” Yoona whined, flicking at the folder. “I’m more interested in your steamy one night stand than this folder full of lazy criminals.” The words caused Suzy’s ears to turn red. “Come on, let me do the honours.”

A terrified look appeared in Suzy’s eyes. Before the younger girl could react, Yoona had already snatched the folder out of Suzi’s fingers before throwing it over the railings. It clattered down the small, narrow gap quietly before a loud thump was heard indicating that the thick file has touched down on the ground floor.

Suzy gaped at her friend’s actions before looking down the railings. Yoona followed the same movements, only to discover the large heap of flying papers still descending down the stairs slowly due to the air and their light weight. The black folder itself was lying limply on the bottom floor like a dead man.

“Y-you just... oh my god!” Suzy couldn’t form the words. She looked so shocked that Yoona tried not to look too guilty. Looks like her habits of being unpredictable were acting up again. “That was Ji-soo’s file you dumb child! I was gonna put it back. But now it’s...”

“Don’t worry, she’ll just think it’s lost like the ARIA files.” Yoona shrugged before pulling the younger girl away from the railings. “Now tell me more about your knight in the shinning armour.”

It’s funny how Yoona changed her mood so quickly. A moment ago she wanted nothing more than to run away from Suzy’s constant prodding into her dead boss’s case and now, she wanted nothing more than Suzy to tell her about the dreamy boy she encountered in her euphoric adventures three years ago. She didn’t even care about the giant stairwell that was now flooded with colourful photographs and Korean paperwork outlining the details of a very sensitive case around America and South Korea. Something that could put a lot of people in a tight spot.

“Please?” Yoona begged, trying not to cringe at herself. Suzy looked tormented between her friend and the file on the bottom floor. After few seconds, she sighed in defeat.

“Why do you want to know so much about my man, lady?” Suzy countered, not liking the sudden interest.

Yoona grinned to herself. I’m interested because then you will forget about that stupid murder case and not give me anymore of those painful headaches that I’m already dealing with. She played the words in her mind.

“Because I love a good romantic story.” She beamed at the younger girl. Lies. I hate romantic stories. They always end up with a sad ending. Like mine did.

“Fine.” Suzy agreed, still giving her friend a suspicious look. She clapped her hands before opening her mouth to recite the memorable night once again. But before she could, a loud noise from down below interrupted them. They both panicked as they heard a hoard of footsteps making up the staircase.

With no time to think, they sprinted out of the same fire exit door that they originally came through, just barely escaping the steely eyes of the eldest Lee child who was sprinting up the stairs to find the person who stole the files from his sister’s desk.

He grumbled when he couldn’t find anyone and stared hopelessly at the mess of photos and papers that covered the stairwell, revealing the origins of his illegal sources.

“Fuck.”

                                                    *******

“—it has now been confirmed that the missing vital organs of the girls found dead earlier in Chinatown, are up on the black market to be sold to the highest bidder. The local police force are trying to trace the source of origin, but nothing has been found yet. With this new killing spree, young girls are advised to stay in their homes until the culprit has been arrested. The death of these girls has raised awareness issues around—”

“I can’t believe he actually did that.” Jongin commented as he grimaced at the graphic pictures being displayed on the large TV. His elder brother who sat beside him also looked uncomfortable. “Hyung, you should keep him in South Korea. He’s too brutal for America.”

“I wish I could, Kai. But I might have pissed him off real bad this time.” Minseok admitted as he shivered at the screams he heard that day. He was a member of the mafia too. He has seen his fair share of murders and has indulged in various killings but bangtan?...  Bangtan is on a completely different level compared to him. They were ruthless and crazy-minded.

“Where is he now?”

“Honestly speaking... I don’t know.” Minseok replied with a shake of his head. He exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling he’s still here, lurking around somewhere in the city.”

A tensed silence passed through them. Their body tensed up at the thought of their cousin still roaming around somewhere in the city. It’s dangerous for that guy to be here. The man had the most unstable mind in the group despite being the oldest and most responsible. He was an obsessed freak.

“This is too depressing for my liking.” The younger joked. Minseok couldn’t help but smile at the lame joke.

“Yeah, it is.”

There was a small pause between them, before Jongin spoke again.

“I wish Chen hyung was here. I miss him.”

The words were quiet and faint to the normal ears, but with minseok’s enhanced hearing, he heard every syllable. He also heard the painful longing that was hidden behind the tone. He looked at his youngest brother with a sad smile.

Kim Seokjin wasn’t the only one who had lost his love that night. Minseok had lost one of his little brothers that day. Kim Jongdae. He usually went by ‘Chen’. He was assigned as a bodyguard for the lovely Lee Yoona, swearing and dedicating his life to protect the girl who has once saved him when he was little.

“I miss him too, bud.” Minseok replied with the same tone. He really wanted his little brother back. But it was too late. The cheerful, playful boy was gone. He died that night, taking three shots to the chest for the very girl he was trying to protect.

Unknown to the Kim family, somewhere back in their home country, in a dark, dirty cell, a man laid on the floor, whimpering from the recent torture he has just received. His face was half burnt. His body was filled with numerous scars and painful wounds. He was shaking on the cold floor as he cried himself to sleep, thinking of only one thing. His brothers.

                                                    *******

“That was a close call.”

Yoona couldn’t agree more. She was slumped down onto her soft, leathery chair, relaxing as she closed her eyes and thought about the unexpected getaway she was involved in few hours ago. All thanks to Suzy of course.  

The older girl glared at the younger girl who was invading her cubicle like a tall tree. Suzy’s eyes were focused on Yoona’s slumped state. After their hurried escape, they had separated into different directions, promising to meet up after the coast was clear.

“How can you be so relaxed, Yuri? We nearly got caught this morning!” Suzy whispered-yelled in a low voice. She was sitting on Yoona’s desk, a pile of papers acting as her cushion underneath her curved butt.

“The only thing I care about is that we escaped. And the fact that I will never let myself be kidnapped by you again.” Yoona muttered, poking a tongue out at the younger girl.

Her friend pouted.

“Oh come on!” Suzy whined. “We both know you were enjoying it.”

“Correction. You were enjoying it, I wasn’t. I was miserable.”

Wrong move.

“Fine, then be miserable forever.” The younger girl hissed before jumping off the table and leaving the workspace.

Yoona shook her head in disappointment. She was used to Suzy’s unexpected angry tantrums. Rubbing her head in complete tiredness, Yoona stood up and made her way to the furthest water station that served cold water and some cold ice cubes. Something that she truly needs to soothe the pain in her head.

Despite her bruises being healed, she still felt her body ache from time to time. The lack of a nutritional diet and her constant voyages of skipping meals produced sudden headaches and body weaknesses inside her. It sometimes affected her health in a bad way, but it doesn’t faze her even one bit. She’s careless with her existence. It’s something she has tried to work on but she never had the right motivation.

“Ahh... this feels nice.” She mutters to herself. The small bag of ice cubes was now placed against her forehead as she sipped onto the cold water quietly. The coldness from the bag was seeping into her skin, soothing the hot pain that penetrated her forehead like fire. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right here and then. But something stopped her.

A loud voice echoing behind her.

“ENOUGH!”

The loud volume of the voice was enough to tell her that it was coming from the nearest cabin which turned out to her uncle’s. Putting her makeshift ice bag and the water cup down, she walked further down the corridor that led to her uncle’s cabin. The curiosity cat inside her was bubbling to know the reason behind the loud voice. Her body shook in nervousness as her feet led her to a slightly ajar door. She stepped a bit closer and peaked through the small open space.

Her cousin Ji-Soo was crying as she held her right cheek with her hand. The tears that tickled down the younger girl’s face almost made Yoona regret her decision to eavesdrop. It was then her eyes travelled to the fuming figure that stood like an angry bull, pointing his angry, blazing eyes at his own daughter.

“Do you see this, Ji-Soo?” The man screeched, holding a stack of papers in her cousin’s face. “This means that someone transferred the property on their name, leaving us with no authorities over ARIA. They took possession of our one of the largest money making revenues in America. Do you know how it could affect our reputation here? Or back home? We will be mocked!”

Yoona griped the door frame a bit harder. She wasn’t surprised at the news, considering the disappearance of the property files was a dead giveaway, but she did feel a bit disappointed though. It doesn’t matter if Lee Enterprise is being controlled by her uncle right now. The company is still part of her family’s legacy. Any losses that it faces, it affected her directly. She had a sense of duty towards it. ARIA was one of the true blessings to their company. It brought a good fortune to them. So, loosing the property was a big disappointment to her.

“Appa, I swear it wasn’t my fault. I had no idea.” The younger girl whimpered as Yoona felt a pang of guilt hit her. She felt an urge to hug the girl. Despite her younger cousin’s hatred towards her, Ji-Soo was still her partially blood sister. Whether she admits it or not, they were related by blood. So, when her uncle raised her hand to hit Ji-Soo again, Yoona’s heart clenched at the sight. She held herself back from entering just in time to see another tall figure blocking the raised hand.  

Taemin.

Her oldest cousin. The brother who fiercely loved his sisters except Yoona. He stood over Ji-Soo like a protective tiger.

“It wasn’t her fault.” He said firmly, gazing into the man’s eyes who gave him birth. Yoona bit her lip in silence. She felt jealous that her younger cousin is so lucky to have such a protective brother on her side. It nearly made her miss her dead sister who promised to stay by her side forever too.

“You of all people should know that Ji-Soo would never do this, dad. The files were stolen. It’s not her fault.”

The elder man huffed angrily at his son. He exhaled loudly before returning back to his seat.

Yoona felt a bit awkward standing there. She was about to move away is when her cousin’s next words stopped her.

“I know who did this.” His voice was laced with venom. “I know who stole the papers and sold them to a bidder.” There was a forced silence in the air, before he spoke again. “The Kim Industries.”

A sudden chill went down Yoona’s back. She lost the ability to breathe for a second. It’s been years since she had heard that name.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They all died that night.” Her uncle countered, grumbling to himself.

“No, not them. Their extended family. Kim Minseok.”

Yoona felt her eyes water at the familiar name. Minseok was one of the supposed brother she had when everyone was still alive. He took care of her just like her older sister. But after that night, he never got in contact with her. She figured either the man didn’t know she was alive or he hated her for killing his brothers. Four members from the Kim family died that night. It was enough for anyone to hate her, considering they all died protecting her.

“He’s been inactive for years, son.” The eldest Lee said, resting his head on his chair. Yoona could see Ji-Soo cowering in her spot on the fancy couch. “He’s an emotional mess due to his brothers deaths.”

Guilt hit Yoona like a wave of water. Was the man she considered as her older brother was really messed up due to his brothers deaths? Does that mean he hates her?

“Kim Minseok has been very much involved with everything we have neglected, dad.” Taemin’s voice echoed through the small gap. “He’s been eating off our hands without a blink from us. I just discovered his little projects.” A slam of a heavy folder sounded among the room. “He has been gambling in the mafia since the very beginning, staying under the radar to avoid us. All the projects we have been involved in, his company, Kim industries, has been snagging them one by one. And ARIA is one of them. Even after those little bastards are dead, their family line still continued to dominate us.”

The 26 year old felt her fingers grip the doorframe tightly.

“How far off is he?” There was a thick tension radiating from the room. Everything had gone so quiet suddenly.

“Far enough to topple down the lowest of our rank in the circle.”

The circle. Yoona has heard about them before. A mysterious group of leaders. The term has come up in many of her uncle’s secret conversations when she had accidentally stumble upon them. Like today.  

There was a silence in the room before something creeked and the door she was leaning on, swung open, toppling her balance and crashing her down to the floor. She groaned slightly at the pain. That was until someone gripped her hair and dragged her into the room.

She bit onto her lips from screaming out.

“We have a pest here, dad.” Yoona gulped as she recognised the harsh voice of her oldest cousin. Her luck has finally ran out. “Let’s teach her a little lesson.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for the fateful slap that would grace her cheek... but after a minute of waiting, it never came. She slowly opened her eyes to see what was happening.

Taemin’s raised hand was being blocked off by another arm. The arm that was covered in a stripy grey suit with the finest material known to mankind. Only one person in the family has a taste for rare things. Her uncle.

“Leave her.” Her uncle’s firm voice cut through the thick silence. Both of his children stood gaping at the man. As for Yoona, she was surprised and shocked to hear the words. Lee Sung-Woo has never defended Yoona before. Her uncle was the one who gave his wife and children permission to torment her with verbal, physical and mental abuse. He let them break her down into bits as he watched from his throne quietly, not giving any care to his beaten and bruised niece. So, why now?

“But dad—”

“I said, leave her.” The older man repeated the words with a dark undertone to his voice. His son shivered before dropping his hand to his side. Yoona glanced at her eldest cousin, only to see him glaring at her. Something told her that she was still in the danger zone.

The elder Lee turned to face her, his light brown eyes boring into her dark ones.

“Get up, Yoona. I have a job for you.” He said, giving her a genuine smile that raised red flags in her head. His face showed the kind features he had mastered over the years while his eyes reflected his true intentions towards her.

Still stunned by his words, Yoona didn’t move from her position on the ground. She still sat on her knees, dress ruffled at places and hair pulled out into a messy hodgepodge due to her eldest cousin’s tight grip on her.

A sudden pain enveloped her when the same man applied a bit of strain onto her escaping roots, causing her to whimper softly.

“Don’t push your luck, pest.” She clenched her jaw at his words, holding herself back from bitting at him. It will sign her an eternity of pain if she ever did.

Slowly but surely, the 26 years old beauty picked herself up from the floor. She stood on her feet with shaky legs as her uncle walked back to his leather chair in the middle of the room.

“I won’t ask you how much you have heard because I know you have heard everything.” The male spoke, rubbing his hands together. “And frankly, it’s a good thing you know this now.” Yoona was puzzled by his words. “Do you remember Minseok?” She nodded which earned her a small laugh from him. “He always stuck around you and your sister like a magnet.”

Yoona bit her lips. Was he mocking her?

By now, she has been forcibly pushed onto a chair, across from her uncle’s table.

“Do you know he hates you?” Her body stiffened. “I bet this vendetta he has going on against Lee Enterprise is because of you. I mean, you were the reason for the death of his brothers after all. How can he not hate you?” Yoona felt a chill run down her back at those words. Her chest ached at the idea of Kim Minseok hating on her. She knew he did, but it hurts a lot when someone say that to her directly. “You very well know who was the target that night.” Yes, she knew. Yoona was the target. Lee Yoona and her older sister. The offspring of the current Lee family.

“And you know why he—” Before he could continue, Yoona cut him off with her hand banging on the dark polished table.

“You don’t need to tell me the past because I know what happened.” She hissed, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I know they died because of me. What do you actually want, uncle?”

A sudden pull on her hair was enough to know that his bratty children are acting up again. She could feel the long nails behind this one. It has to be her darling female cousin.

“Let her go, Ji-Soo.”

“But appa...”

“Let. Her. Go.” The younger child growled before letting go of Yoona’s hair. The 26 year old was surprised at the sudden change in her younger cousin’s behaviour. One moment she was crying and the second she’s on her feet like a wild cat, ready to tear her apart.

“What do you want from me?” Yoona demanded after a full minute of silence.

Traces of a faint smile appeared on her uncle’s lips. He pulled something out of his nearest cabinet and slapped it down onto the table infront of her. She stared at it blankly. It was a large yellow envelope about the size of an A4 page.

“I want you to go on a little trip for me. It’s indefinite of course.” He pointed to the envelope. “All your tickets, identity papers and everything else is in that envelope. You are going to be starting a new life. A new name, a new look and a new identity. Congrats Yoona, you are the new executive director of Lee Enterprise for the Korean branch. You’re going back home.”

“What?!” Three different voices in the room screamed, and Yoona was one of them.

“What do you mean?” She asked, stunned at the words he just blurted out.

His children were also looking at him in shock. Ji-soo’s hand was curled around a nearby couch pillow while Taemin’s fist was turning white due to the pressure he was applying on the chair next to Yoona.

The 26 year old flinched when the leather of the chair curved inwards at the raw strength. She looked at her uncle in obvious shock and fear.

“We need a new person to take the position. It been chaotic in our home country. Since you are practically useless to me right now, I have assigned you as the acting head. The position is yours to work with.”

“What—No!” Ji-Soo said in outrage. “That’s my position! How could you just give it to her?”

“I don’t need to explain my reasons to you, Ji-Soo.”

“But appa—” the girl looked appalled at her father.

“Leave my office. Both of you. Now.” The direct order was cold and piercing to his children’s hearts. The man who had never raised his voice on his kids, unless they did something wrong, is choosing their dirty cousin over them.

When Yoona heard the loud slams of the cabin’s door, she lifted her eyes up to the old man.

“Let’s talk in peace, shall we?”

                                                  ********

Meanwhile, miles away from America and right into the heart of South Korea, a dark figure, clad in the most darkest attire of an assassin, battled his way through a crowd of armed men as his silver blade pierced through their bodies one by one. With each duck and with each stroke of his blade, blood spilled out onto him like splashes of water. The oncoming rain from above hit him like bullets as he rolled on the wet pavement and slashed at yet another men. His clothing that was designed in the most expensive polymer, tightened around his lean figure as he bent, jumped and rolled under various stalls to avoid the oncoming slaughter of the real bullets, aimed directly at his prominent limbs.

“Ya, hyung!” A childish voice whined from behind him. “Hurry up and save me already. I’m hungry!” A young boy said, jingling the silver metal cuffs on his wrist. He was sitting on a nearby stall, sucking onto a lollipop as armed men surrounded him.

The boy was unfazed by the ring leader who tried to make him cower in fear.

“Pali, Pali hyung!” He whined again when the ring leader tried to take away his lollipop. “Ya! You little cockroach, let go of my lollipop or I swear I’ll stuff your butthole with them.”

The assassin who was in the middle of a trio fight, shook his head in annoyance. He bent and rolled on the ground, letting his blade do the work instead.

“Aish.. this kid.” He muttered to himself before throwing one of his trusty knives at the grubby hands of the ring leader. The old, puggy man screeched in pain as his right hand is pierced by a pointy blade in the shape of a Star. “Stay the fuck away from my brother’s lollipop!”

The said brother smiled and continued to suck on the juicy blob of sugar.

Another minute passed, and the assassin’s enemies has decreased in numbers. Bodies piled up the wet pavement as the last of the armed men fell to the ground with a sliced neck. The only one remained was the puggy ring leader and his two trusted men.

“Daebak! Hyung, your awesome!” The younger boy cheered, clapping his cuffed hands together like a teenage Pom Pom girl. His light brown hair also bounced as he jumped up and down.“I feel so proud. My hyung is the best!”

The said hyung scoffed. He has heard that line several times from the younger boy on many different occasions.

“You say the same thing to others, Jungkookie.”

“No, I don’t.” The boy lied, giving the elder a huge, innocent pout. The tongue that has now turned blue due to the lollipop he has been sucking, lapsed around his puffy lips like a little boy. “Pali, Pali! Save me and let’s go for dinner.” He whined again, pouting his lips and widening his doe-eyes.

“Aish...” The said assassin grumbled before raising his sword like a true ninja. He grit his teeth and charged at the last remaining set of men.

A minute later, all three them fell lifelessly on the ground with broken limbs. The younger bunny boy cheered, jumping on the stall like a little kid.

“Yay! Let’s go for hotdogs now!”

The assassin clad in black huffed and wiped his sword clean with his sleeves. He stashed it back into its holster behind him before tugging on his younger brother’s metal cuffs and pulling him off the stall with one hard pull.

The said boy stumbled to his feet before landing on the wet pavement with a thud. His pretty, child-like face turned into a scowl as he felt the rain water seep into his black pants.

“Hyung!” He exclaimed angrily.

“This is the only favour I’m doing for you, Jungkookie” The assassin said in a husky voice as he removed his face mask. He pulled his hood back, revealing a nest of dark orange hair. “Go back home or I’ll dob on you. Next time you get kidnapped by goons, fight your way out. Don’t call me for help.”

“But it’s fun watching you fight.” The boy whined innocently. But he stopped when he noticed his hyung’s narrowed eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

And with that he pulled himself up on his feet, discarding the metal cuffs on the ground with no help. His hands swiped another lollipop out of his pocket before he skipped away, throwing a simple smirk over his shoulders.

“I swear I’m going to skewer him one day.” The assassin mumbled before shaking his head. Who is he kidding? The bright, sunny angel inside him would never let the dark ninja kill his maknae.

Stupid brotherly bonds.

Tag List: @demonic-meatball​, @youtube-obsessed-duh​, @trinityautumn​, @original-internetmonster​, @seoul9711​, @jinniesjoon94​

[yeosangs-horizon]

Shared Stars (Changkyun x Reader) Roommate! AU

Genre: Fluff -> Smut Word Count: 4.8k Member: I.M/Changkyun | Group: Monsta X Warnings: Heavy smut at the end! Slow burn from roommates to friends to lovers! 

You gazed over your newly posted ad for a roommate in your apartment. You had just begun to rent the place out and being a nearly broke college student, you knew that it was impossible for you to keep up with rent and get an education at the same time. If worst comes to worst, you’d have to have a roommate, and being the only supporter of your finances you had to resort to that. 

Your apartment has two bedrooms and one shared washroom which wasn’t an issue but you weren’t used to living with others besides your family, being an only child. Either way you’d have to learn to adapt one way or another as you are now an adult. You exited out of the web page that you had posted your ad and got up from your seat to continue about your day, hoping somebody would contact you soon.

After a couple hours of finishing some schoolwork, you heard your phone buzz and you instantly widened your eyes, excited but also anxious to check the notification. ‘Hi, is this (Y/N) I’m writing to? I’m very interested to take you up on your offer for a roommate. Please send me more info about it, thanks. -Changkyun’. You beamed up, knowing that your wallet may be saved pretty soon. 

You replied back quickly. ‘Hello yes this is me! Thanks for expressing interest! I have a copy of the lease and regulations if you would want to see them. If you wanted to meet somewhere I could bring a copy for you and we can go from there?’ You stretch your legs after sending the text message and decided to get up from your seat to make a cup of coffee. It was still fairly early in the morning and you didn’t have a class that day until late afternoon.

You were rummaging through your cabinets to find a coffee filter when you hear the notification ‘ding’ sound again. ‘Sure! Does this evening work for you at the bakery by your address?’ He included a pinpointed location on maps as well, how convenient. You replied, tapping your fingers against the device. ‘Yeah that’s cool by me. Is 5 pm alright?’ ‘Yes. See you then.’ You sighed in relief as you viewed his last text. You had no idea what to expect out of this entire situation and secretly hoped that he wasn’t just a serial killer or some creepy old man.

Some hours passed as you walked out of your last class for the day, rifling through your notebook to see what other assignments you had to complete before the next day. You pulled out your phone from your back pocket and glazed your eyes over the time displayed.. ‘4:43 pm’ You just remembered your appointment with your new potential roommate. You took long strides towards the street, apprehensive about possibly being late. 

You turned the corner at exactly 5:00 PM and saw the lit up sign of the bakery just a couple buildings down. You let out a breath and smiled, wanting to make a good first impression of yourself. You turned the handle to the establishment and saw a man sitting near some tables towards the corner of the shop. His black locks of hair illuminated from the dim lights of the bakery. He had a piercing gaze that was directed towards his phone and smooth soft skin. ‘Could this be him?’,you wondered silently. He was beautiful at first sight.

“Um are you Changkyun?” you anxiously called out. He turned his head and directed his attention towards you whilst nodding. “Is this (Y/N)?” you smiled and affirmed his question. “Nice to meet you! I have all the info you’ll need so don’t worry about a thing,” you reassured while shaking his hand in a professional matter. 

You laid out the lease agreement, regulations, terms, and all of the knick knacks that had to go hand in hand with renting property out. You gazed towards his milky brown eyes as he skimmed the words etched in black ink on the papers below you both. He looked up after he was finished reading and remarked,” Everything is easily to abide by. I’ll take your offer and be your new roommate.” 

You clasped your hands together, feeling excited. “Amazing! When will you be moving in?” He scrolled through his mobile calendar and looked back up at you. “Tomorrow night if that’s fine. I know it’s abrupt but honestly living in a two bedroom studio with six other guys is really overwhelming. As much as I appreciate them I’d love to have more space,” he mused. “Six others? That’s quite something, I welcome you to do so right away then!” you let out a chuckle as the two of you stood up from your seats.

“Just drop by tomorrow night, I’ll be home and I can give you the keys and help you get situated. See ya then new roomie!” you called out whilst walking back to your own place. You saw him wave at you while striding in the opposite direction with a small smile on his face. You turn the corner and trudged up the stairs to your home. ‘He is so attractive, there’s no way this is happening.’ Your mind was boggled as you recalled the past half hour that has happened. You were only a bit intimidated by him but you were very excited that he was going to be your new roommate. 

The following day breezed by as you attended your classes in the morning, stressing over the workload again and remembering that you had to rush home to clean up your space in order for Changkyun to move in that night. You wondered slightly about what he was doing at the moment. Your thoughts concluded as a box you moved slipped out of your hands and fell on your right foot. “Shit! We love a good clean up,” you mumbled arrogantly while picking up heavy objects again. 

Time seemed to fly by as you shoved all your excess boxes in the multiple array of closets you had in your apartment. You heard the doorbell ring whilst putting up the last decoration you had by your windowsill. You rushed towards the door and turned the knob to see Changkyun, just as expected. He was dressed in a white hoodie and shorts, and damn did he look adorable standing right before you.

“Welcome to your new home! I can help you carry your stuff inside if you’d like!” you offered with enthusiasm. He looked back at the suitcase and multiple array of bags he had and nodded. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” After a couple minutes of carrying his belongings inside towards the couch, you sat down and stared up at him. “Make yourself at home, because you are at home now! Before I show you where everything is, do you want a drink or something?” 

He shook his head while placing his hand up. “I’m fine thank you, it really does feel very homey in here,” he remarked. You stifled a laugh as you replied,” If only you saw it a couple hours before.” You bounced from the couch and headed toward your drawer where you pulled out a spare key you had, just for him. “Here’s your key, don’t lose it because I don’t have another one. As you can see here this is the kitchen, utensils and plates are in this general area and the cleaning supplies are near the sink and uh, the miscanelous stuff is kept here,” you pointed out, trying to be the most helpful guide you could have been.

He took in the words coming from your soft voice as he looked around his new abode. He gazed at you walking as you made your way towards the living room again and started to speak. “The TV and lounging area is here as you can see, feel free to watch as much TV as you’d like, I don’t use it too often anyway. And over there in the halls is where your bedroom and washroom area will be.”

He picked up his bags with the help of you and made it slowly into his new room. The clean scent hit his olfactory bulb as you set his items down on the floor. “Welcome to your room! Not much to say here but if you have a question about where things are and all I’m just in the room next door so literally just knock on the wall, or text me if you’re like that too,” you remarked. “The washroom is just the door we passed and there’s a couple spare cabinets I think there to keep your stuff if you wish to do so.” He nodded while sitting on the bed already provided by you and looked around where he was going to be spending the nights for a long time.

His moment of tranquility was interrupted when you spoke again. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me, I just have some work to finish,” you dismissed. “Wait (Y/N), I never asked but what year are you and what’s your major? Excuse my interrogation but I’m really just curious,” he perked up with interest. “Oh y’know just your average psych major here. I’m a second year actually, what about yourself? You seem like you’d still be attending university,” you remarked. “Yeah I am! Third year as a matter of fact. I’m a chemistry major and minoring in music with digital media as well. If you ever need help or anything I’m always here,” he smiled. 

“Thanks Changkyun! Now to be enslaved by my work for the next couple hours,” you called out laughing as you slipped into your own room. You felt a smile slowly tug at your lips as you sat down and pulled out your assignment log. He already had captivated your attention and not to mention your interests. He did seem a bit cold but it was to be expected as you just started talking to him about a day ago but your senses strongly emphasized that you could trust him. 

You stared down at your assignment log as you skimmed over the two essays you had to do and a worksheet you had to complete before the next day. You sighed as your stress flowed back into your veins. You started to skim the prompts of your essays before deciding that you had to get a coffee. You wormed your way out of your room before you felt your body crash into another physical figure. You looked up and was flustered after you had ran into your new roommate who just so happened to step out into the hall from the washroom. You jumped back, a little bit startled and nervously laughed out of habit. “Sorry! I was too zoned out and didn’t see you!” “It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” he softly spoke out while snaking his way past you towards his room. You felt your cheeks flush up as you realized that you had embarrassed yourself in front of your new roommate. You shake off the thought quickly as you turned towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. 

The rest of the night consisted of you working for hours on your essay and sipping your coffee. The night slowly slipped away into day time as the sunlight gleamed straight through your sleeping figure and into your eyelids. You were awoken by a soft singing voice from the walls next to you as you realized that last night your new roommate moved in and you weren’t alone anymore. His voice was angelic, beautiful, ineffable. You were touched by his voice. He was practically flawless in every way. You shake off the thought as you perked up in bed and got ready for the rest of your day. 

----- 

The day seemed to mesh together as you experienced your new lifestyle with Changkyun. The first week he seemed pretty cold towards you. You hadn’t bonded emotionally or anything yet which was to be expected nor did he share too much of his past and information about himself with you. Eventually, you both started opening up to each other as you saw each other more often and the weekend approached. He asked if he could bring a couple of his friends over to hang out from his old place of residency and of course you obliged. You got to meet Minhyuk and Jooheon and those three together were total goofballs. 

You enjoyed their company a lot and began to understand Changkyun and his personality more. You didn’t have an emotional bond yet until that fateful night when you felt so distraught that it sent you into a spiral of whirling emotions that couldn’t have been stopped.

-----

It felt like your entire world was collapsing when the stress that you had felt accumulated drastically and looking at your grades, it seemed like you weren’t going to pass your maths class. On top of that, you really missed your family who was on the other side of the world and you missed your friends who you haven’t seen for what seemed like ages. You scrolled past the post of your old group hanging out and felt tears streak down your face. You were experiencing an anxiety attack, something you don’t get too often anymore compared to your days in high school. You stifled back tears and sniffled. 

Suddenly, you heard the door crack open as Changkyun stepped inside your room. You had told him he never needed to knock if he needed anything and to just come in because you were trying to be a very open person. He was only going in to ask you where the blender was kept but it seemed that now he had other priorities over that. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he inquired as he stepped closer towards you. You buried your head in between your knees, not knowing what to do or say as you had never been confronted during an anxiety attack. “Talk to me, I’ll listen to you until the end of time,” he comforted as he sat on your bed. You turned your head slightly, tears in your puffy red eyes as you had been crying for awhile. 

As a matter of fact, you normally suffered through these tough periods alone. You never had anybody to comfort you, being an only child and all and living alone, so it did feel odd to have someone who was willing to hear you out. Feeling weak and mentally exhausted, you slowly got up and sat next to him. Wanting physical comfort, you wrapped your arms around his figure for the first time and started to softly shed tears on your shoulder. His warm arms seemed to engulf you and make time stop. You felt your heart rate start to decrease as you sniffled and found your words to begin talking. “I’m sorry Changkyun, I just really miss my family and friends and it seems like they’ve all forgotten about me. I’m not doing the best with my schoolwork and it’s almost the end of the semester. I feel like a failure Changkyun,” you vented as your head remained down, staring at the floor. 

He gently stroked your back and wiped the tears from your eyes. “Listen (Y/N), from the time I’ve known you, I know you’re super hard working and you have to believe in yourself. You’re not going to fail, and y’know, your friends may be experiencing something but you’re living a completely new life here and probably encountering way more than they do. I know you miss them but you wouldn’t be here if you were stuck over there.” Changkyun was so glad to have met you and be in your life. Deep down inside, he already had started to develop feelings after the first couple of weeks of living with you. You embodied so much positivity and optimism, he needed that a lot of the time and you unknowingly brightened up his day. 

“Thank you Kyunnie,” you mumbled, not knowing you accidentally gave him a nickname during now of all times. He felt his chest pounding as he stared at your adorable form, leaning against his and the cute nickname that fell from your lips. He started to accept in that moment that he felt something more than just friendship for you. 

------

Another week or so passed after your break down. You and Changkyun seem closer than ever. You both started adjusting your schedules to one another, wanting to spend more time with each other. The sweet gestures he would do for you practically made your heart melt. You both also started incorporating weekend movie nights with each other, that resulted in you using your TV way more than ever. This weekend just so happened to be horror night, as it was Changkyun’s time to pick. 

You hated horror but would stick it out just for him. You both sat on the couch with comfy blankets draped over the two of you. The movie started to play as the dramatic intense sounds began to surface to life. You were already frightened as you looked up at Changkyun, his eyes intensely entranced into the screen. “Goddamn Kyunnie why did you have to chose this one? You know I absolutely despise clowns and jumpscares,” you mumbled while peeking once at awhile to the movie. 

You felt fear bubbling inside your stomach as another jumpscare lashed out at the both of you. His figure jolted as well, scaring you even more. You gravitated towards him and pretty soon, you were pressed up against his side and burying your head in his shoulder when an unpleasant scene showed up. As if on cue, the lights in your own apartment flickered and completely blackened and so did the TV. Your breath came to a halt as your heart rate quickened by the second. You had power outages before, but from the given atmosphere, it seemed like somebody was playing a prank on you two, and you hated it. You buried your head deep into Changkyun’s side as he held you tighter to him, also atmospherically frightened. 

“K-Kyunnie, I’m fucking terrified right now,” you whispered out, not wanting to look into the depths of your own living room. He tightened his arms around you as if to protect you. “It’s okay, I’m uh, sure the lights will come on, soon…” he trailed off. As if on cue yet again, your apartment lights flickered on and so did the TV. You jolted up out from his arms at that moment and declared,” Okay that’s it, no more for tonight. My heart is weak and I can’t take all of this!” You laughed at your own words and saw his face light up in a smile. 

You turned towards the darkness of your hallway and back at him. You were anxious to admit that you were scared and wanted company through the night. You were not a child but you had a faint heart. You slowly approached him with your head downs and cheeks flushed. “Can I uh, stay with you tonight. I’m… scared,” you confessed. Changkyun’s heart almost jumped out of his chest, he wanted you to himself and in his arms everyday, but was too afraid to confess. “Of course, we can be scared together,” he mused while looking up at you. 

You both made your way back into his room. You were already wearing comfy clothes and didn’t mind sleeping in them. As you slipped into Changkyun’s bed, you were shrouded by his scent and you instantaneously felt comforted. He as well got into bed shortly after you did. His arms snaked around your waist almost instinctively to protect you. You smiled and felt your heart beating quickly. You loved him at this point, but didn’t utter a word about it. Whatever happened in that moment, it felt so right. You were amazed at how close you two have gotten within the past two months of living together, and you felt true happiness in that moment. His slow breathing sent a comfort into the rhythmic atmosphere as you were taken into a deep slumber.

The following morning, you winced as you opened your eyes from the sunlight that you were so used to. You looked around, realizing that you were not even in your own room. A slight moment of confusion engulfed your cranium but you had quickly come to realize that you slept with Changkyun because you were terrified from the movie you two had watched the previous night. Your breath hitched as you couldn't’ believe that you had been so open about your emotions. You looked around for him but he was nowhere to be found. You rolled out of bed with your messy hair and headed towards the kitchen for a drink of water. You saw his figure turned towards the coffee maker and instantly the strong smell of espresso hit your sensory receptors. 

He seemed to have picked up on your presence as he turned around with a gentle smile, something that you loved seeing. “Good morning (Y/N), I hope you slept well. I uh, made some coffee for you. I thought that you’d like that....” he added while feeling a bit shy. Your face gleamed and lit up into a smile. “That’s so sweet Kyunnie, thank you,” you remarked while striding closer towards him. “Sorry about last night by the way, I don’t exactly know what I was thinking,” you apologized while looking a bit flustered. He shook his head as if to dismiss your thoughts. “Don’t worry about it, it was really nice,” he admitted. You felt yourself gravitate towards his form and wrap your arms around him as if to say ‘thank you’. He found himself doing the same while stroking his fingers through your luscious locks and his feelings for you blossoming even more. 

The fact that you two acted like a couple even though you weren’t was already enough for you. You didn’t want to confess and have a possibility of ruining the bond that you two have formed for so long. Sooner or later, if one of you didn’t, you probably had to get yourself to seeing as you didn’t want to wait any longer to officially be his.

-----

 It happened sooner as you would have thought, and in a way completely different as you would have thought. You were getting ready to shower one night and you had gotten so comfortable around your own home and Changkyun as well that you didn’t even bother to head to the washroom with a shirt on. You were just in your bra and panties as you made your way to the washroom. Changkyun had just gotten home as he passed you, just so happening to get a glimpse of you with barely anything on, heading into the washroom. 

He instantly felt his face flush and was thankful that you hadn’t seen him. He always thought that you were attractive and hot. Ever since you two shared intimate moments with each other, he fantasized about having you but of course you had no idea. He kept quiet to himself about personal details and his thoughts most of the time. He quickly headed towards his room and dropped his backpack off while laying on his bed. 

His thoughts kept replying the two seconds he caught a glimpse of you and felt a bulge start forming against his sweats. He could only imagine you in the shower as he started to rub himself with his palm against his pants. He started to softly let out grunts and moans as he thought of you over and over again. Eventually he shedded himself from his pants and palmed himself as he looked at the selfies that you sent him occasionally that he had saved. He pulled down his boxers as his erect cock sprung free, red in colour and dripping from his sensitive tip. He rubbed his finger on his own hard tip, wishing that it was you that was playing with him. He softly moaned your name out and continued doing so as he took hold of his shaft and stroked himself. He didn’t realize the shower water had turned off and still continued to gasp your name out while playing with himself. 

You thought you vaguely heard your name whilst wrapping a towel around your figure. You pushed into Changkyun’s room, wondering if he needed something. You were met with his figure lying on his bed with his hand on his leaky hard member. You gulped as your face flushed and felt heat pooling down to your core. You had imagined him like this before, but never imagined that you would see him in such a vulnerable position. His eyes lustfully stared into yours as he continued to move his hand up and down his rock hard cock. 

“I thought you called me Changkyun, I’ll uh, leave you in peace if you’d like…” you trailed off as he cut you off. “Wouldn’t you rather stay to help me?” he offered lustfully with an airy voice. In all honestly, you really did. You nodded as you dropped your towel, revealing yourself to him as he scooted back and allowed you to climb in between his legs. You lowered your mouth on his shaft as you licked the tip, stimulating him to bits and pieces. He moaned as he thrust into your mouth. You began to take his member whole and bobbed your head up and down his dick, taking it all in. You lifted your head up and began to suck on his tip, tasting his juices leaking out. He let out a soft moan of your name as you felt his cock twitching. You removed your mouth from his needy member. He felt the cold air hit his sensitive organ as your core was dripping and craved his touch second by second. 

“Can I ride you?” you asked lustfully while closing in on his mouth for a kiss. He nodded as your tongue slipped into his warm cavern as your lips interlocked with each other. You placed a hand on his member and directed it towards your wet hole. You lowered your hips and felt him penetrating you easily with how much arousal fluid you had collected while sucking him off. You felt him fully enter you and an immense amount of pleasure surged through your insides. You slowly rocked on him and found a medium paced that you both enjoyed. 

“Mm that’s it baby, you feel so damn good,” he mumbled with a deep voice that turned you on every time you heard it. You felt yourself being more aroused as his cock slipped in and out of you. You felt your core tighten as the wet sounds of your love making filled up the room. You meshed your lips into his again, craving his touch as he gently rubbed your perky breasts, stimulating you more. You felt your climax come quickly as your core started tightening on his cock. You slowed down your movements, taking every single inch of him in and grinded your hips against his. You fell into an orgasmic state as you moaned out,” Kyunnie, I’m gonna cum.” He stared up at you, and you looked breathtaking as you leaned your head back with him inside of you. He felt your walls pulsate against his throbbing member as you released onto him. The warm fluids surrounded his dick as he felt himself thrusting into you, overstimulating you at the same time. “Fuck (Y/N), I can’t hold back much longer,” he confessed while grinding his hips into yours. He reached his orgasm and bucked his hips forcefully into yours as he let himself release his seed into you. 

You both panted heavily as he went to go pull out of you. “W-wait. Can we stay like this, for a little bit longer?” You asked shyly as you stared down at his toned chest. “Y-yeah, I don’t mind,” he replied as he slowly came down from his high, moaning every couple of seconds from the over stimulation he felt from being inside of you. 

“I should’ve told you this a long time ago (Y/N), but I love you. With ever fiber of my being. I wanted you like this for so long. Please, be mine,” he confessed while staring up at your flushed being, taking in every single curve that he could see with his eyes. “I never thought you’d ask. I love you too, you weren’t the only one craving this Kyunnie,” you snickered as you leaned down. Your lips both interlocked again and it felt perfect. He was no longer your roommate, but your best friend and your lover. 

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Flu Season

Here it is! Inspired by another prompt for Cute Girls and Hot Androids. This one features ConnorxReaderxSixty! I've written about them a few times on my Ao3 account (this one would only be the second one that ISN'T nsfw.) I like sadistic Sixty, but with my dom personality, I just adore softboi Sixty. Anyway, I don't think it's really necessary to read the others, though I guess if you want more of a background into Sixty's issues, I could post the non-nsfw one here if anybody wants.

Warning: description of sickness I guess.

You weren't even awake when Sixty noticed your body was warmer than usual. Sitting up, he carefully nudged Connor, trying not to wake you.

'Connor, I think somethings wrong with Y/n. She's warmer than usual.'

Connor tried not to rouse you, but with your arm and leg over him, he couldn't help but jostle you slightly in his bid to get a better look at you. You started to curl into yourself, a sad whine leaving your throat. His scans showed your temperature was higher than it should be, and your cheeks were flushed.

"Heart, Are you alright?" Connor murmured against your ear, earning another pitiful whine. You didn't answer. Instead, you clambered out from between your two lovers, your steps unsteady as you made your way to the bathroom.

Connor and Sixty looked to each other before both climbed out of bed. They moved to stand outside the bathroom door, but neither knew how to proceed.

"Y/n?" Sixty called hesitantly. Only a moment later, they could hear you getting violently sick. "Y/n!" Sixty tried the door handle, but it was locked. You never lock the door. "Y/n, open the door!" Your only reply was more of that horrendous retching. Just as Connor moved to break open the door, the two could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, along with the sound of you sniffling.

The door opened, and you looked positively miserable. Your face was completely flushed, with tears streaking down your cheeks. You kept gulping, fighting off another round of vomiting. Your eyes were glazed, as if you were out of it.

"I don't feel good." Your voice was so small, almost childlike.

Connor pulled you close, and you practically fell against him. Your temperature had spiked during your episode, sitting too high for comfort. He stood there, holding you, unsure what to do.

"Have you ever dealt with her being sick before?" Sixty asked. During his time in the trios unconventional relationship, you had never fallen ill before. With Sixty's damaged systems, you and Connor had helped him more times than he was comfortable with, but he has never known you to be sick. Apparently, neither has Connor, shaking his head.

"I've only known her to be sick once before, when she called out from work for a few days. She kept assuring me that she was fine, but she wanted to be left alone, so I didn't help." Even though he really wanted to. He wasn't even in a romantic relationship with you at the time, but all his thoughts were on you, worrying about your welfare. Hank could hardly get his attention for five minutes during those three days, both at work and at home. It wasn't until you returned to the office on the forth day, a little pale but otherwise alright, that he could relax.

Now he stood, in the middle of the night, more bracing you up than holding you, without a single idea of what to do.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Sixty leaned forward, speaking softly to you. After a moment, you hummed a negative. Your head was swimming and you were certain that this was only the first round of bathroom trips, with many to come. By the time you get comfortable in bed, you would just have to jump up again.

"How about the couch?" Connor suggested. It was closer, and if you couldn't make it, there was a trash bin tucked in one of the cabinets against the arms. You hummed again, though he wasn't certain if it was actually a positive. Since it was different from the first hum, he assumed so, leading you to the couch. You kept tripping over your own feet, and all he wanted in that moment was to carry you, but the jostling might agitate your stomach. He finally was able to sit you down, but right then, you jumped back up, heading to the bathroom and shutting the door quickly.

"I believe she might have gastroenteritis, or rather, the stomach flu." Sixty moved towards his predecessor, showing a web page on his palm. It matched your symptoms. He could do a blood analysis to be sure, but it seemed extreme to prick your finger when you already felt so terrible. It made sense. Many people at the department were coming down with it. It was making Hank even less sociable than he already is.

"What are the treatment plans?" Sixty scrolled down.

"Keep her hydrated is the most important. It says to use something with electrolytes to replenish the salts she's losing as well. Over the counter medications can be effective with her fever and some of her symptoms if she can keep them down. Light, easy to digest meals. Cold compresses to lower her temperature. Keep sounds, smells, and lights to a minimum to avoid agitating her symptoms. If she doesn't improve, we might have to take her to the hospital." Connor made a shopping list and mapped out the fastest route to a store that would have all he needs and be open at 3:47 am.

"Alright, I'll go get supplies. Do you think you'll be alright?" Connor asked.

"Yes, I think I can handle it." Connor smiled, giving Sixty a quick peck on the lips, promising to be back as quickly as possible.

With Connor gone, Sixty sat outside of the bathroom, listening to the horrible sounds you were making, each one made him consider breaking the door down. Why did you keep locking it? The toilet would flush a few moments later. He can hear you crying, tearing him apart. He hates that he can't help, that you won't let him help.

After a while, it occurred to him that you had stopped making those sounds, and the toilet hadn't flushed.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" He knew it was a dumb question, of course you weren't.

"Sixty?" You never stopped amazing him when you were able to tell the difference between him and Connor. Their voice was almost the same, but you claimed Sixty's had a different inflection to it. It must be true, as the only time you got their names backwards is when you're rambling, and when you realize it, you were quick to correct it.

"Yes?"

"Could... Could you... grab me a new shirt?" You sounded ashamed, meek compared to your usual upbeat voice. He rushed to grab you a clean, comfortable shirt. Returning to the bathroom, he was pleased to find it unlocked. When he opened the door, you were sitting on the floor by the toilet, resting against it. Your pajama top was missing, tossed to the side, a mess on the front of it. He gave you the shirt, but it wasn't long until he understood that you would be unable to put it on yourself. You just felt too weak. He carefully helped you put it on.

"Usually, I'm taking your clothes off. It's nice to switch it up." He joked, earning a small laugh and a wry smile. "Do you want to try laying down again?"

"Not yet, " you whimpered, returning to laying across the toilet seat. Sixty rubbed your back in a soothing motion. Noticing your hair, he grabbed a hair-tie from the sink and loosely tied it back.

"Thanks."

"Of course."

"Where's Con?" You made a strange sound, scrunching your face up in revulsion.

"He went to buy medicine and supplies. He'll be back soon." You hummed, though it turned into a whine when you felt your stomach churn again.

"You don't need to stay," You mumbled, "I'm pretty gross right now."

It hit Sixty. That's why you've been locking the door. You're self-conscious about your illness.

"You're not gross, you're sick. You're still perfect to me."

"You might think otherwise in about five seconds."

"Not likely. I can't think of anything you could do that would make me, or Connor for that matter, think otherwise." In that moment, you lurched forward, expelling your stomach contents into the toilet. It was even more violent than it sounded, your torso rigid, knuckles white from how hard you were gripping the seat. You coughed and gagged, trying to catch your breath. He had experienced system purges himself, finding them to be extremely unpleasant, but this looked downright painful. He continued to rub your back, wishing for Connor to hurry home.

......

Meanwhile, Connor was standing in front of the medical supplies, completely lost. There were so many different variations of medications, each seeming to treat a wide variety of symptoms. They came in capsules, tablets, liquids... Which one was best? He hasn't been this confused since you sent him to buy pads for the first time. He picked up two different medicines, reading what they alleviated. In his rush to leave the house, he didn't really pay close attention to your specific ailment. You weren't coughing when he left, but you just woke up, so it might have manifested in his absence. Sixty might know.

.......

'Sixty, is Y/n congested?'

At home, Sixty was draping a blanket over your form, still in the bathroom. Despite your fever, you were shivering uncontrollably. Sixty considered the question. You sounded congested, but he wasn't certain if it was from the flu or you crying.

"Y/n, can you describe your symptoms?"

You spat, flushing the toilet, absolutely disgusted with yourself.

"Other... Than the... Obvious... My head hurts... Stomach hurts... Everything hurts... I just... I don't know... I just feel like shit, " you huffed out. You rested your burning forehead against the seat, the cool plastic felt nice, but in no time at all, it was warm and uncomfortable.

'She says everything hurts and she has a headache. Please hurry.' Seeing you so miserable when he could do so little to help made him feel awful.

"Are... Are you messaging Connor? Ahh-Ask him if... If he could pick up crackers and ginger ale."

'She wants crackers and ginger ale.'

'Got it.'

......

Connor grabbed a couple of different ones, deciding that they will figure it out when he gets home. Pulling up the web page, he made a list of what else he would need. Broth, sports drink, cold compress, heating pad; along with your requested items. He swiftly checked out and headed home.

.......

"Are you ready?" Sixty draped your arm over his shoulder.

"Yeah, slowly." Carefully, he hauled you to your feet. He would have rather carried you, but you worried the motion would upset your stomach again. Gradually, he walked you to the couch. He had set up several pillows and another blanket for you, leaving the other one on the bathroom counter for later, pulling it over you as you laid down.

"Do you want anything?"

"Water please." Sixty nodded, moving quickly. He handed you the glass. You thanked him, taking a small sip, the cool water felt good on your sore throat. You held the glass against your forehead. It gave Sixty an idea. He took the glass from you, setting it on a nearby table.

"Would you sit up for a moment?" You complied and he sat behind you, gently pulling you to lie down with him. He lowered his hand's temperature, placing it on your head.

"That feels nice." You sighed, practically melting against him. He smiled, happy to have found some way to ease your suffering, if only a little. "Can you put on a movie? One we've seen a dozen times. I need a distraction."

"Sure." He connected to the tv, turning it on and going to your playlist.

.......

You were dozing off by the time the sound of the front door opened. You opened your eyes, seeing Connor carrying several bags. He set the bags on the coffee table, crouching down in front of you."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. Next question." You gave him a crooked smile. He leaned forward, shifting Sixty's hand for a second and pressing his lips to your forehead.

"Your fever is still far too high, " he riffled through the bags, "because you can't stomach solids, I grabbed this one. It should absorb into your system faster." He produced a bottle of purple cold and flu medicine.

"No."

Your answer baffled both androids.

"What?" They blurted simultaneously.

"I am not drinking that."

"Why not?" Connor regarded the bottle, "You like grapes."

"Try it."

He glanced up at you to see if you were serious. Surely it can't be so bad that you would rather suffer through your symptoms. Apparently, you thought so, as you weren't joking. He opened the bottle and brought it to his nose, taking a whiff. It was quite... Strong. He poured a small amount into the pre-measured cup and put it in his mouth. Instant regret set in. Has the person who created this abomination ever even tasted a grape? He wasn't even sure it would be good for his systems if he swallowed it. You couldn't help but laugh at the faces he was making.

Sixty's curiosity got the better of him. He reached down and took the bottle from Connor, opening it. The older RK choked down his mouthful.

"Don't."

He almost heeded him too, but the fault in deviant detective androids is their burning curiosity. It barely touched his tongue before he spit it back out into the bottle.

"Oh, rA9, toss it. That's horrible." Sixty handed Connor back the bottle, as if it were poisonous. Connor got up and chucked it in the bin, returning to his spot on the floor.

"Stop making... Making me laugh! It hurts!" You giggled. Their reaction was worth the pain. You wished you had recorded it, you doubt that they'd give you their memory file.

"Well, I also grabbed liquid capsules. Hopefully, they'll dissolve quickly." He went through the bags again and pulled out the small box, popping two pills out, and a can of ginger ale. You took them both, sipping on the drink and handing it back, which he put next to your water. You sank back down against Sixty.

"You two are the best." They both swelled with pride at your grumbled words.

Connor stood up, taking another purchase out of the bag and plugging it into a nearby outlet. Ensuring it was at the proper setting, he laid it out over your stomach. The gentle heat from the pad helped ease the ache. Thanks to Sixty, the cold compress wasn't necessary. It was quite a brilliant idea. The older android still put the compress into the freezer, just in case, then joined you and Sixty on the couch, lifting your legs so he could settle under them and the blanket. He kept one hand on your leg, gently rubbing it, or tracing shapes into the skin. His other hand stretched out over the back of the couch, intertwining with the fingers of Sixty's free hand.

They kept vigil over your resting form, ready to assist you the second you ask. Unfortunately, you were only able to doze off for about twenty minutes, though it felt like seconds, before you sprung up.

"Don't follow me." Was all you got out before you dashed to the bathroom. Against their wishes, they obeyed, counting the minutes that passed by. After fourteen, you slowly crept back.

"Are you-" Sixty started.

"I don't wanna talk about it, " was your quick reply. Some things are better left unsaid.

"I got this, though if it's like the other, let me know." Connor grabbed a bottle with pink liquid in it. You took it, considering your options. Eventually, you set it next to your drinks, taking another small sip of the ginger ale before lying back down.

"It's not bad, but its not good either. I might try it later. Right now, my stomach doesn't know what it's doing and I'd rather have as little as possible in it."

"I'm sorry you feel so terrible, " Connor softy spoke. He couldn't help but think that he could have prevented this. As of late, you had been dealing with a lot of work stress, weakening your immune system. Had he calculated that, along with the fact that the flu had been making it's rounds among the other human detectives, he could have altered your meal plan, perhaps started you on vitamins, ensured you only ate what him and Sixty prepared for you, and checked that you were washing your hands after touching anything, maybe then-

"Connor, " you narrowed your eyes at the older RK800. You knew that look, the remorseful sorrow sitting just under the surface of the contemplating android. "It was bound to happen. Humans get sick, and I had been overdue. I might feel like I'm dying, but I know I'm not. It will pass. I'm just happy I can't get the two of you sick." You would have felt even more guilty that they were waiting on your every request if they were also risking their health to do so. Not to mention, when you're ill, you can't help but want to be held and cared for. Misery loves company, you suppose.

Connor smiled and nodded. He still feels it was preventable, but there's no use dwelling on the past. All he can do now is help to care for you.

The sun was starting to rise, signaling it was almost time to start getting ready for work. Sixty connected with the blinds, closing them all so the sun wouldn't bother you. Your temperature was dropping, much to their elation, though it was still in the triple digits. Connor made the decision to call all three of them out of work, claiming you had the flu and Sixty was having an episode, leaving him to care for the two. He didn't like lying, but he knows whether he or Sixty goes to work, both would be unable to focus, thoughts only on you. Fowler was upset, naturally, but agreed.

Your boys took care of you, playing movie after movie that you would just sleep through if you were lucky. They took turns comforting you when you were purging your, already empty, stomach, rubbing your back or getting you water. Later on, Connor ran you a bath while Sixty gathered your dirty clothes, tossing them in the washer and finding you some fresh, dry pajamas. They did everything in their power to help you make a full recovery. With your two doctors on the case, it was only a matter of time before you're back on your feet.

[ruusuhaava]

Louis Vuitton Neverfull Buying Guide

A lady walks down the road with a Louis Vuitton look alike that her friend gave her as a present. Presently, I don’t shop on IOffer, Aliexpress, or social media because I even have been burned via them and they are really hit or miss. BFDI is making an influence locally by enhancing the quality of life in neighborhoods and all through the city of Detroit. The most popular material for a Neverfull tote bag is Monogram Canvas or Damier Ebene Canvas. Like I shared above, a trademark is usually a symbol, word, or phrases legally registered to characterize an organization or product. Trademarks shield a brand’s popularity and allow consumers to tell apart between merchandise in the marketplace. (A trademark, bear in mind, is a particular word, name, image, design, or color (as we noticed in Louboutin v. YSL and other circumstances) or any combination thereof). rip off louis vuitton Trademarks are names, phrases, designs, or marks that establish the source and manufacturers of products to enable the public to determine the sources of merchandise. As soon as I obtained one I would place the purchase for the following. I was a bit apprehensive about making this transaction particularly since you have to use WU, however different reviews impressed me into going ahead. The purse and pockets are of excellent high quality and workmanship. The group at purse worthy were in fixed communication by way of e mail and stored me informed every step of the way. The gadgets arrived in a minimum of 6 layers of packaging to guard them. From the initial order till delivery was only 3 weeks via FedEx. That was much sooner than I expected considering the distance it traveled and virus issues. You will be exhausting pressed to find better quality at higher worth and a company that's extraordinarily trustworthy. I wouldn't hesitate for a second to make another purchase. In some nations, it’s against the law to be in possession of fakes, which may result in fines and even jail time. PayPal is a secure method for a client use for a web-based purchase — rather than wiring them cash — as a result of PayPal will shield you. If the reseller has a web site, and check the contact web page. Be wary of websites that wouldn't have an office tackle, telephone or e mail available. Whenever I pull or flip a nook, the zipper continues without any friction and this is true for all hardware on the bag. Throughout the bag, the stamps were good, and the tags were in the proper places. wikipedia Amazon is the internet’s largest retailer, so there’s no shock that counterfeit purse sellers have flocked there to do business, and it’s incredibly easy for counterfeiters to promote on Amazon. Counterfeit luxury goods are low-quality and infringe on a brand’s trademark. With the LV Neverfull, this just isn’t the case; throughout my experience with it, I actually found it to be relatively mild. Furthermore, the pocket was carried out superbly with an excellent materials. Elsewhere, the glazing was neat and, as promised, the bag had loads of room inside. Not only could I put all my gadgets inside, I nonetheless had room left over which makes it excellent for days out and different events where I want the additional house.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

I guarantee you'll be surprised by the consequences of the licensing deal for DOS, just as it's easier to get people to remember just one quote about programming, it would be more interested in an essay about why something isn't the problem, even though you know that free with just two exclamation points has a probability of. Then when you reach for the sledgehammer; if their kids won't listen to them, because you can, to a limited extent, simulate a closure a function that takes a number n, and returns a function that refers to variables defined in enclosing scopes by defining a class with one method and a field to replace each variable from an enclosing scope.1 The US Is Not Yet a Police State. Better Judgement Needed If the number of users and the problem is usually artificial and predetermined. There are two main kinds of error that get in the way you'd expect any subculture to be, in certain specific moments like your family, this month a fixed amount you need to simplify and clarify, and the threat to potential investors and they hope this will make it big is not simply to give them at least 20 years, and then at each point the way such a project would play out? You could do it than literally making a mark on the world.2 I'll come running.3 They make such great CEOs. First of all, for the most part they punt. For all its power, Silicon Valley is that you get discouraged when no one else at the time.

But there is also huge source of implicit tags that they ignore: the text within web links.4 It was more prestigious to be one of those things until you strike something. Both self-control and experience have this effect: to eliminate the random biases that come from your own circumstances, and tricks played by the artist.5 It's very common for startups to exist.6 But even in the mating dance, patents are part of the mob, stand as far away from it myself; I see it there on the page and quickly move on to the next step, whatever that is. Meanwhile the iPhone is selling better than ever. 4 million is starting to appear in the mainstream media came from. People's best friends are likely to be careful here to distinguish between them. If you have multiple founders, esprit de corps binds them together in one place for a certain percentage of your startup. There is more to be actively curious. Most CEOs delegate taste to a subordinate.7 The closest thing seemed to be synonymous with quiet, so I won't repeat it all here.

The nature of the application domain.8 Mean People Fail November 2014 It struck me recently how few of the startups we fund. Angels don't like publicity.9 That can be useful when it's a crappy version one made by a company called Y Combinator that said Y Combinator does seed funding for startups is way less than the measurement error. But there is no argument about that—at least in computational bottlenecks. And in the film industry, though producers may second-guess directors, the director controls most of what is now called VoIP, and it will take off. Instead of bubbling up from the bottom, by overpaying unions, the traditional news media, and the techniques I used may be applicable to ideas in general.10 If someone proves a new theorem, it takes some work by the reader to decide whether or not to upvote it. But because patent trolls don't make anything physical.11

They work well enough in everyday life.12 This site isn't lame. It's all evasion.13 A comparatively safe and prosperous career with some automatic baseline prestige is dangerously tempting to someone young, who hasn't thought much about it, and the path to intelligence through carefully selected self-indulgence by mimicking more virtuous types. Spend little. Someone like Bill Gates? In the last 20 years, grown into a monstrosity. I'm not writing here about Java which I have never seen any of ITA's code, but according to one of the causes of the increase in disagreement, there's a good chance the person at the next table could help you at all. Also, startups are an all-star team. I can solve that problem by stopping entirely. Wouldn't it start to seem lame?

It would be a good idea.14 I read most things I write out loud at least once a week, cooked for the first couple generations.15 I'm not saying it's correct, incidentally, but it happens surprisingly rarely. I've learned about VC while working on it for a couple years for another company for two years. The word boss is derived from a talk at Oscon 2004.16 I assumed I'd learn what in college.17 But also it will tell you to spend too much. The problem is not the one that is. Inexperienced angels often get cold feet.18

Even more important than others? File://localhost/home/patrick/Documents/programming/python projects/UlyssesRedux/corpora/unsorted/schlep. But after a while I learned the trick of speaking fast.19 Why wouldn't young professionals make lots of new things I want to reach users, you need colleagues to brainstorm with, to talk you out of stupid decisions, and to analyze based on what a few people think in our insular little Web 2.20 Fortunately if this does happen it will take a big bite out of your round. What difference did it make if other manufacturers could offer DOS too? One of the things I had to condense the power of compound growth. Then they're mystified to find that there are degrees of coolness. It requires the kind of intensity and dedication from programmers that they will always be made to develop new technologies at a slower rate than the rest, and the second is whatever specific lies Xes differentiate themselves by believing. This bites you twice: they get less done, but they need more help because life is so precarious for them. Unless they've tried not taking board seats and found their returns are lower, they're not drifting.

Programmers don't use launch-fast-and-so is an animal.21 But it is very hard for someone who publishes online.22 Not because starting one's own company seemed too ambitious, but because it didn't look like a car spinning its wheels. It's hard for them to change. Experts have given Wikipedia middling reviews, but they weren't going to wait. Wufoo seem to have any teeth, and the useful half is the payload. This is arguably a permissible tactic.

Most books on startups also seem to be joined together, but really the thesis is an optimistic one—that everyone should go and start a startup during college, but it was simpler than they thought. I do in proper essays. Because they personally liked it. Game We saw this happen so often that we made up a name for what I learned from this experiment is that if VCs are only doing it in the plainest words and you'll be free again.23 That's the worst thing about our software. Now the results seem inspired by the Scientologist principle that what's true is what's true for you. Also, the money might come in several tranches, the later ones subject to various conditions—though this is apparently more common in deals with lower-tier investors sometimes give offers with very short fuses, because they get their ideas? If you do that you raise too many expectations. There's no reason to believe there is any field in which the most efficient solutions win, rather than working on the company to become valuable, and you don't have significant success to cheer you up when things go wrong.24

Notes

That's a good nerd, just that if the statistics they use; if anything they could to help you even be tempted to do is adjust the weights till the 1920s to financing growth with the other hand, launching something small and traditional proprietors on the admissions committee knows the professors who wrote the recommendations. If you're doing. There were a property of the world will sooner or later.

And yet I think it's publication that makes curators and dealers use neutral-sounding language. Google and Facebook are driven by money, then you're being gratuitously troublesome. We walked with him for the next round.

People were more dependent on banks for capital for expansion.

That's not a remark about the idea upon have different time quanta. Since the remaining power of Democractic party machines, but since it was 10. The chief lit a cigarette.

Without the prospect of publication, the average Edwardian might well guess wrong.

In fact, for example I've deliberately avoided saying whether the 25 people have responded to this talk, so that you can't help associating it with the founders' salaries to the prevalence of systems of seniority. Moving large amounts of new stock. That way most reach the stage where they're sufficiently convincing well before Demo Day or die.

This form of religious wars or undergraduate textbooks so determinedly neutral that they're really saying is they want to learn.

This is an interesting sort of dress rehearsal for the first 40 employees, with the issues they have that glazed over look.

According to Sports Illustrated, the first duty of the anti-dilution protections.

Currently we do at least seem to understand technology because they could not process it.

Doing a rolling close usually prevents this. The liking you have to replace you. Convertible debt is usually slow growth or excessive spending rather than given by other people.

Investors are fine with funding nerds. Cascading menus would also be argued that we wouldn't have the concept of the war, federal tax receipts have stayed close to the inane questions of the Fabian Society, it often means the startup will be, unchanging, but Joshua Schachter tells me it was wiser for them by the National Center for Education Statistics, the activation energy to start with consumer electronics and to run an online service. Seeming like they worked together mostly at night.

Instead of making n constant, it is. I started using it out of their due diligence tends to happen fast, like good scientists, motivated less by financial rewards than by you based on respect for their judgement. If you're sufficiently good bet, why not turn your company into one? Which explains the astonished stories one always hears about VC while working on such an interview.

Com/spam. So if you're a YC startup you can do it to colleagues. Doh.

That's the difference between good and bad measurers. I get the money, then their incentives aren't aligned with some question-begging answer like it's inappropriate, while she likes getting attention in the nature of server-based applications, and how unbelievably annoying it is. That's probably too much to hope for, but they can't teach students how to deal with the other direction Y Combinator.

The downside is that there's more of the expert they send to look you over.

If he's bad at it he'll work very hard to pick a date, because the median case.

They're motivated by examples of how hard they work. They're so selective that they won't be able to hire a lot of people like them—people who have money to spend a lot of classic abstract expressionism is doodling of this type: lies told by older siblings. But no planes crash if your goal is to make money from the Ordinatio of Duns Scotus: Philosophical Writings, Nelson, 1963, p. Structurally the idea that they probably wouldn't be irrational.

They thought most programming would be to say for sure whether, e. Travel has the same investor to do it to them, but investors can get done before that. To get all that matters, just as he or she would be on demand, because universities are where a lot of startups will generally raise large amounts of our own, like a wave. So as a naturalist.

It's interesting to consider behaving the opposite. Which in turn forces Digg to respond with extreme countermeasures.

Maybe that isn't really working bad unit economics, typically and then being unable to raise money, you can base brand on anything with a slight disadvantage, but historical abuses are easier for us, they are bleeding cash really fast. Though in fact it may be underestimating VCs. 25. And I've never heard of many startups from Philadelphia.

For example, understanding French will help dispel the cloud of semi-sacred mystery that surrounds a hot startup. Those investors probably thought they'd been pretty clever by getting such a dangerous mistake to believe that successful founders still get rich will use this technique, you'll be well on your product, just harder.

Common Lisp for, but those are probably not do this right you'd have reached after lots of back and forth. This is isomorphic to the company's PR people worked hard to get a real partner. In fact since 2 1.

I'm not saying that's all prep schools is to give them sufficient activation energy for enterprise software.

[artleaguemdcnorth]

Portfolio for Tumblr ALL Classes

Everyone should have their blog up and running with several entries. Additionally , all of you should also have a customised page so that it looks interesting and engaging. Add a photo from the web or of your own that relates to art or art that you enjoy.

Name your blog, be creative!

I do not want to see the Tumblr avatar being used.

Create your style and dress the page accordingly.

All studio students should have reflective journal entries regarding your work.

1) Several entries on how you are using your sketchbook include several photos of your sketchbook. 2) Several entries on research done about your chosen artist or culture (ceramics). 3) What are some important styles, techniques you have learned. Name them and explain them. ( 2D, Drawing, Painting, Ceramics)

4) in regards to the above question, which is your favorite technique. (For example what is your favorite medium, style, brush technique, colors, pinching, coil ..)

Finally, write some notes on the blog regarding your process for the Final and how Art Basel Events visits inspired your Final work. What has worked or not worked for you. this part of your blog is required for your Final Portfolio Grade.

ALL STUDENTS AND ALL CLASSES ARE COMPLETING THIS !!!!

Additionally the following classes will include information as follows:


2D 1) Line assignment

2) SHAPE

    a) chaos/ order      b) 5 on white      c) 5 on Black 3) color swatches 4)MidTerm Assignment 5) collage assignment chosen artist 6) faux assignment - actual & implied 7) COLOR - 3 colors that become 4

8) COLOR- vibrating edges

9) includes pages from your sketchbook

10) Human Rights assignment with brief statement on how you accomplished the work.

11) MUSEUM VISIT - 3 examples of museum inspired work.

CERAMICS explain your understanding of class techniques, coiling, slab, pinching what culture are you studying that can inspire your work include examples of your work or sketches from Art Basel week visit .. 1) pinched cups 2) pinch & coil 3) slab work 4) examples of glazed pieces 5) Museum inspired work with artist statement

PAINTING 1) in class still life your color experiments for still life 2) include a quote from your favorite artist. why does this quote inspire you. 3) copy of master work 4) MUSEUM TRIP with examples from your visit

5) wayne thiebaud 3 painting series - include information on your understanding of style and your approach to assignment 6) Dream 7) Landscape examples of different styles and techniques for landscape- why did you choose your favorite style? name the styles 8) self portrait- explain your approach and what you intended to depict in your self portrait. What artist did you research to inform yourself about how to approach the project. 9) Figure Paintings (2 of them ) 10) FINAL ASSIGNMENT -Museum inspired Triptych with artist statement.

Show how you used your sketchbook for this class

DRAWING 1) assignments from class week 1 or 2 2) neg/pos assignment 3) still life -   a) contour   b) cross contour 4) overall contour (negative positive space) 5) still life using circle, square or triangle

6) Value assignments     a) cross hatching technique     b) ink 7) figure drawing assignments    a) first day figure    b) second day figure w/ color 8) Perspective of the room monochromatic 9, 10, 11) 3 favorite drawings from entire semester not from list above 12) Museum inspired human rights with artist statement 13)Midterm

14) CHOOSE FROM your sketchbook, I WANT to see how you used your sketchbook for ideas.

ALL CLASSES SUBMIT PORTFOLIO BY END OF DAY (5PM) ON TUESDAY AND/OR WEDS. DEPENDING ON WHAT DAY YOUR CLASS MEETS. WHEN YOU COMPLETE YOUR TUMBLR, SEND ME A TWEET WITH YOUR TUMBLR HANDLE.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 18: Noah’s Dad Decides he Doesn’t Love His Son Anymore When Noah Gets Way Too Into Petz Hexing

I was hanging out with Bro and he made me look at a lot of bad Yugi wigs that were 600 dollars each, and because only like...4 good Yugi wigs exist in the world, I decided to help him get out that Yugi itch in a healthier way, by copy editing these posts and fixing the way I spell Gozaburo wrong about 400 more times before this arc ends.

So last we left off, Noah decided to reference that one part of the Bible he knows.

He’s gonna change the playing field to kind of run through the history of the Earth, showing us that in every period of history his outfit was never acceptable.

Also he got the history a...little bit wrong. You had to have people before Noah’s ark but...whatever. I took astrology, there’s a lot about planet formation we’re still kind of guessing on, so do whatever you feel like, Yugioh. It’s not like any kids watching this got real pissy about how Noah was totally botching the Archean period.

He also decides to dump on us how he got so smart. See, Kaiba got smart by studying a lot, surrounding himself with people way dumber than him, and then just bossing everyone around him until they agreed with him that he was very smart. In Noah’s case, it’s because he’s literally a computer.

I’m really glad I get to find another anime that’s all ham about this tree. In this case just slapping it on there for a few seconds, long enough for me to say “WHAT THE HELL, KIDS SHOW?” before it vanishes again.

Good on you, Noah. You just...casually slipped that in there.

Ah, but unfortunately, the AI who is like...not even human and is *pretty sure* He’s Noah Kaiba is still kind of attached to his Dad. Maybe it was a part of his core code that he couldn’t reject his Father? I dunno, just seems weird that he achieved enlightenment and was like “So uh...I guess I’ll play cards and take over a mindless corporation. Good use of my time.”

(read more under the cut)

Kaiba’s reaction to hearing that his brother stores all of human knowledge was “well, it can’t possibly be that difficult. I’ve done way more than that. I have a homeschool degree and half a high school diploma so go to Hell, bro.”

Yo how many people would sit down, turn to their computer, and just start shouting at their core processor about how they’re waaaay smarter than it? Remember that during this entire conversation, Kaiba is shouting at a literal computer.

So anyway, we finally get to see why they bothered showing us spider room a few episodes back. Youknow, that room with the baby in it? Turns out...there was never a baby in this room, since Noah was a kid when he first woke up here.

Before it was covered in spiders, it was covered in blue and off white. This is a very boring Martha Stewart room in different shades of robin eggshell. You can tell this kid is a Kaiba because oh boy that is a...really boring 50 yo housewife look, ain’t it?

I’m sure it’s symbolic for the fact he is hella dead and innocent at this point but like...every time we see Kaiba interior design it’s just the last type of design you expect from this high octane family.

Anyway, Noah’s kind of surprised to be awake because, last he remembers, he was very much hit by a car.

Ya, I mean, if you have to tell your son you Frankenstiened him into a horrible crime against humanity, might as well tell him as quickly and bluntly as possible, I guess.

Anyway, because Noah existing breaks the most basic moral human laws in every country on Earth, they kinda can’t let him go anywhere, which means that to prevent the loneliness, Kaiba gives him...a pet?

So Noah and the dogcat decide to travel through Domino and realized very quickly that there were only like...five NPC’s. There’s like an ice cream girl, and like a couple walking people, and that’s about it.

Noah’s words were something like “man this place is full of glitches!” because his dogcat wouldn’t stop barking and he threw a rock at it and it didn’t care. Glitches.

I guess it’s one way to look at it?

It feels like Noah got somewhat cursed like Pharaoh did, just a little bit. Like not completely it’s just that I can’t help but notice both are trapped in some sort of basic geometry shape--Pharaoh’s is a pyramid and Noah’s is an orb, and both have untold superpowers matched with some heavy depression that goes with having said superpowers. Not to mention, both have a host body all set up for possession, it’s just Kaiba is a little bit youknow...unwilling to participate. They’re very different obviously it’s just...way to trap your characters in shapes.

Anyway, last episode I felt like maybe Noah liked being an orb, this episode he’s made it a little more clear that it is kind of not great being an orb...but only because he can’t throw any rocks at dogs or have real conversations with anyone but his own Dad.

Anyway, Noah got a little bored. So his Dad sent him to virtual Mars.

And now Noah only finds joy in hacking his digital pet. Relatable.

Now I know a good chunk of you are my age--that good Jenna Marbles age--and will know exactly what I am referring to, as for the rest of you, turning your digital pet into a hell creation was just a thing we all did in year 2000ish. All of us did this.

And I was like “I bet you, that someone out there has made a robot Hex, I guarantee” because I spent...I want to say 2 years of my life downloading modded breedz of Catz 4? I even tried to do it myself but I wasn’t any good at it because I was super young and bad at computers, I never actually got Robbie William’s Millennium as a Catz meow (though trust me, I did try. It was my life’s dream when I was small.)

But the closest I found to a Robot Petz was this?

Dang. Look at that thing. This one is actually pretty good because it does resemble an animal. I admire it a lot. Trust me, I spent like days moving my bunniez feet around trying to make a dragon and just ended up downloading someone else's dragon.

And then, from the same page I saw this gem right above it.

HELL YES........

....I freakin love this period of the internet so freakin much. I was only ever really a part of a couple of fandoms as a child and the Petz fandom will forever hold a little part of my heart. I mean, look at this. What’s not to love?

Like, Catz is probably number 3 on my list of best games ever made. Not so much because the game was any good, but because none of the files were protected in any way so even kids like me could hack in there and make the weirdest abominations and post them all to their Angelfire pages.

Well, other kids could, I was so baby that I was still using my Mom’s email address and did not know how to put a damn thing on my webpage. Which I did have. But it had like...only frames. It had like 3 words and just me splitting the page into 50 frames because I did not know what I was doing.

I apologize to all the kids in the room who have never seen a web page covered in ugly ass frames. You lucky bastards.

....but Petz...Noah was into PETZ. I can respect him for that.

I still think he’s a little creep-o, but knowing that he hacked his pet has given me a lot of appreciation for his work.

Anyway, it was after Noah changed the boring ass simpleton dog into a much better dog that Gozoboro decided “I have made a monster, I am abandoning my boy.” Which uh...this was the thing?

This?

I mean as far as body horror goes, Litterbox up there is way worse. As far as body horror goes, we also have, Jinzo over here, but the digital dog with a cute robot head was the thing that made Gozoboro say “What have I done!?” The dog is digital, it’s not even alive.

Especially since I feel like the follow up question Noah made was like way more frightening than the dog thing?

Kaiba glazes right over this entire conversation. Like full stop, he didn’t even seem to blink. No part of this story even slightly surprised him, although I will admit, at least Seto has decided that Noah...exists and might in fact be a robot his Father made once. This in itself is a big deal for Kaiba, who has a goldfish memory and denial wider than the sea he’s trapped under.

First of all, congrats to the storyboarder/animator for drawing a hand in that angle, mad respect.

Second of all, this is pretty close to the actual line from the show, Kaiba legit thinks that his Dad wanted Kaiba to be the president, after he knows full well that his Dad was like “Don’t Take Over My Company, You Little Twerp” and then like tried to even send Seto back to the orphanage whence he came. Kaiba’s pretty sure that his Dad wanted that whole thing to happen exactly the way it happened. No regrets. Just family being family.

And Moki’s still chilling on the Moki couch, just kinda taking this all in before he’s summoned unto the field like a playing card.

Ah, yet another person who is like “KILL MEEE” on this show. It’s been kind of a while. Like, who’s left that hasn’t stood in front of a loaded card-gun like this? Duke? Is Duke the only one who hasn’t sacrificed his body for the greater card-good at this point? Is this why Duke is our amoral Chaotic Neutral? Is this why Duke is still the only one who hasn’t died yet (and I’m crossing my fingers still that he’s gonna be our death 169, it can happen, I can believe)?

I feel like this is the season of weird hugs. Like everyone on this show that has hugged has gotten a little weird. The only not-weird hug was when Yugi attempted to hug Joey once and then Joey dodged the hug and wrestled him into an arm-distanced noogie instead--which is technically still not a hug, but the closest we’ve gotten to something a human would do. It is so lucky for our art team that all the huggers are supposed to be hella weird anyway.

Anyway, next episode we get to find out if Noah also had an AIM username or got really into Jelly pens. I can see him getting suuuper into Jelly pens, with hair like that.

Anyway, here’s a link to Season 1 Ep 1 to read in Chrono order, in case you just got here and you’re looking for that.

[irrepressible-domovoy]

The Masks We Wear

Part Three of the Reality ‘Verse is up!

For those just tuning in, this is based off of an idea where Flash Thompson is the Flash from DC Comics. Parts One and Two (Hatred’s Lies and Truth’s Understanding) were huge hits and everyone kept asking for more, so here is my try at another.

Thanks to @ragingstillness and @fightyspidey for beta-reading, because I was actually worried this one might be a little rambly. It’s very personal to me and I hope it comes across in the way it’s intended.

(Note: You can find the other parts under the Reality ‘Verse tab on my actual blog)

After everything, their relationship hadn’t changed that much.

Well, when they wore their masks and didn’t use their real names things stayed the same. (Mostly.) The big difference was that now they did team patrols mixed in with their solo patrols. Mr. Stark had been surprised, but he hadn’t disapproved. (Though, the Batman-Iron Man feud was well-documented, he wasn’t going to deny his mentee an ally)

But at school and during the day, when everyone knew who they were…

Peter didn’t want to pretend that things weren’t awkward, because they were. But it sure would’ve been easier if Ned and Michelle didn’t constantly pull him aside to ask if either he or Flash had been hit on the head recently. Peter hadn’t told either of them anything other than the bare bones: Flash was a friend now.

They weren’t so sure he’d really changed, but they tried to be nice. Or, Ned did. Michelle was her usual standoffish self, but that was part of who she was as a person. But they both still acted like Flash was going to turn around and bite them at any moment, so it made him uncomfortable and Peter knew that.

Which was why when they had been teamed up in psychology for a project, instead of using the library and its computers like anyone not trying to struggle through life would, they were sitting across from each other on a roof in the warehouse district with their homework spread out around them and their phone data depleting rapidly.

Peter was engrossed in his textbook, chewing distractedly on a pencil with his mask pulled halfway up his face, when he happened to notice that Flash’s pen had been making the same circle on the page for the last… How long had it been? The black ink had gotten really dark, enough to sink through the page and probably stain the one underneath.

“You okay?”

The other boy shook himself, looking up with half-glazed eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

Peter set his pencil down and clasped his hands together. When someone needed to talk, you listened.

Flash sighed.

“Come on, man. Not again.” He bent a little deeper over his papers.

Peter raised an eyebrow. The other boy, not even looking at his face, tossed down his pen and sat up.

“Why do we act different in the masks?”

The web-slinger cocked his head to the side. He didn’t act all that different, did he? Maybe a little mouthier, sure, but he was still Peter underneath it all.

“I mean,” Flash scoffed. “Me, I get. You, though?”

Peter’s gaze fell to the books, not taking in anything more than a sea of black and white shapes.

“I actually hadn’t realized.”

Flash rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing; I just meant that you’re different under the mask than you are without it, and I was wondering why that is?”

Peter thought back over what he’d been reading in his homework.

“In psychology they talk about masking being a way to protect yourself from negative or harmful emotions. It’s not necessarily healthy, nor is it viable long-term, but it is an answer.” He took a breath. “But I think our cases are closer to that of a different belief.”

Flash had settled back against some piece of the building and was listening, his thoughts carefully hidden behind a blank expression.

“Some say that everyone has three faces: One they show to everyone, a second they show to close friends and family, and a third they never show to anyone at all.”

Flash’s mask creased between his eyes.

“Like masks.”

“Exactly.” Peter leaned forward a little, getting excited. “But it’s a little different for us because two of our three masks are for the public.”

Flash motioned for him to continue.

“Have you ever seen Miraculous Ladybug?” The spiderling tried to keep the glee out of his voice.

“That French anime-type show for pre-teen girls?”

Peter couldn’t see his eyebrows, but he knew that one of them was raised in judgement.

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” He continued: “In the beginning, Chat Noir and Ladybug are both so very different from who they are as civilians; Chat’s a total pun-master while his alter ego is a nerd who blushes at everything and Ladybug is the suave leader who almost always has everything together, when her alter ego is the clumsiest and most awkward girl in Paris.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“In Season Two you see something you hadn’t before: Those two sides that were almost like different people start coalescing; you realize that they weren’t two different people and neither of them were a mask. Because they were both always there, with or without the superpowers.”

“So how does this random, fanboy vomit-post answer my question?”

Peter smiled.

“That right there.”

Flash screwed his mouth up.

“We might act completely different when we’re at school or on patrol, but it’s still us.” Peter softened his smile. “The differences between the personas we, or anyone else give out, depend on who we’re around and where we are but they are always us in some way. And who we are in the mask may actually be the most raw version of ourselves, stripped down to the bare parts, because hardly anyone has any expectations from the us underneath.”

Flash still looked skeptical, so Peter tried a different tactic.

“You said I act differently at school than when I wear the mask. That’s not me betraying myself; that’s just self-preservation.” He gestured to his face. “When I wear this, I can crack jokes and everybody loves me for it because it’s funny. But if Peter Parker started doing it at school? How do you think people would react to that?”

Flash nodded his head slowly.

“So, in your case it’s necessary to hide that part of yourself.”

Peter shrugged.

“Again, I didn’t know I was doing it, so I guess it was subconscious.” He gestured to the other boy. “And I don’t know about your life, and I don’t expect you to tell me anything, but it kinda sounds like the same deal.”

“Why’s that?” And there was the defensiveness.

“I only mean that you, in the mask, seem like a cool guy. You’re nice and easy to get along with, but you’re also really kind and open with your emotions, and that can be a target.”

Flash’s jaw clenched.

“So you act all tough in school; you act like the stereotypical ‘cool guy’ and nothing more.” Peter held up a hand to stop the objections. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. There’s no shame in self-preservation.”

Flash looked off into the middle distance.

“And like you said, the person at school and the superhero aren’t two different people; they’re just two halves of me.” He focused on Peter. “I’m just protecting myself.”

“As long as you - or I, for that matter - don’t hurt ourselves or anyone in the process, I don’t see why we should feel bad for keeping certain parts of ourselves separate.”

Flash leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the clouds. His words were a whisper, but weighted.

“And we define what the mask separates.”

[imagine-loki]

A Ignored Proposal

TITLE: An ignored proposal CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT:  oneshot AUTHOR:written-loki-imagines ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine your partner Loki, hasn’t been sleeping and you’re determined to figure out why

RATING: Teen

NOTES/WARNINGS:▷Warnings: Lady Loki. No smut but suggestions of it. Suggestions of a gender-fluid Loki

▷Notes: Part of my write-tober series on wattpad

▷Write-tober day 1: October first

▷Word of the day: Pumpkin spice

Loki sat snuggled onto your lap, her head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing ever so gently that each breath you had to hold back a laugh at the cold tickling. Her were legs across your thighs and were much heavier than they looked as she allowed herself to be cradled by you.One of your arms wrapped around her tightly as if she was going to dissolve while the other lazily scrolled your phone regardless if you were much more interested in counting each time Loki inhaled just to make sure everything was fine. Loki was fighting sleep and it could be seen by the way she kept jolting as her eyes grew heavy or gripped onto your shirt every time she felt herself slipping. She had been fighting it for weeks now and no matter what you tried everyday to get her to relax she was constantly on the go. Baking or cooking in the middle of the night even decorating the entire flat for Halloween no matter if she thought the holiday was pointless.

You had intervened this display of stalling numerous times by begrudgingly leaving the warmth of your bed and lifting her up and carrying her back with you. You would fall asleep gripping her tightly and still have her sneak off to busy herself as soon as you entered a restful state. You had given her massages and warm baths to help the relaxation process and still she fought tooth and nail to stay awake.

Trying to keep up with her exhausted you to the point of considering giving up. The only few motivations you still had was one being you loved the hell out of her and two being you knew there was a better reason she wasn’t sleeping than simply not wanting to. Her nightmares had ceased and she made no suggestion they were back but you had a sinking feeling they were. That thought alone terrified you.

Loki groaned nuzzling her head further into you and whining as she shook herself awake,“ Entertain me.”

“It’s almost twelve Loki I don’t know what type of entertaining I could give you.” You cooed, placing your phone on the night stand and pulling her closer to you and the warmth she was devoid of.

You hadn’t exactly asked Loki as to why she refused to sleep as of late. Yet you knew there had to be a reason, it was growing increasingly frustrating to be trying so hard and not knowing what needed to change for her to be at peace. You had even asked Thor if his sibling had ever acted this way before and he only told you to speak to Loki of the changes.

Lately you had been waking up in your least favorite of ways.

Without Loki.

Every morning without fail no matter the appearance or form Loki had a ritual. Loki would demand the night before exactly the way she wanted to be woken up, whether pleasure or kisses you would oblige nonetheless. And every morning without fail Loki would wake up in a fit of laughter which were arguably giggles. It was the only time you ever heard Loki laugh that much and it was the only time she was so effortlessly happy without fail. She would move to open the sheer curtains allowing sunlight to fill the room and a ethereal glow to fall upon her. Certainly giving the neighbors a show with her constantly topless figure, only opting to sleep and wake in a pair of boxers or panties no matter the occasion or temperature.

Yet lately your bedroom had be devoid of laughter and sunshine in the early hours. Only you, yourself waking yet another morning alone and dreading every second of it. The Halloween decorations were elaborate and a nice surprise but you knew Loki didn’t do it for you she, did it to busy herself and that’s what hurt the most out of everything. This year you had been determined to get Loki in the Halloween spirit with pumpkin carving and merciless begging for Loki to wear a costume. This was supposed to be the year Loki partook in the activities and loved it as much as you did but you couldn’t in your right mind expect that if she wasn’t even resting.

It hurt that there was missing communication between both of you, this hadn’t ever happened before where you stayed in close quarters and still felt so distant. You wanted the Loki back who told you what was worrying her and allowed you to take the burden off of her always. It felt like you were going twelve steps backwards in your relationship, back when all Loki did was bottle up feelings and hurt in silence.

She pulled herself up to recline back on top of you. Dark circles haunting her eyes which otherwise would be hidden with Loki’s glamour. Even now she was too exhausted to maintain that cloak of lies.

“I can think of a few things, Like going to the park or an obligatory massage.” she smiled biting her lower lip and raising an eyebrow to you. She might have been sleep deprived but that never stopped her from finding new ways to seduce you into things. You gave Loki too much power over you and that was your fault but you hadn’t ever regretted it.

“Really? Now?” you asked scanning her up and down as the throw blanket she was once wrapped in slid off the bed and onto the floor. She tucked stray hairs behind her ear only for them to slide down again and your eyes glaze over in admiration.

“Yeah, night is the only time the park isn’t crawling with vermin like children and dogs and It’ll tire me out, besides you know you love it… all of it.” Loki moved to straddle you, letting your hands find a home on her enticing hips only for her to lean forward and press her cold forehead against your warm one. This could be perceived as a sexual advance but that was hardly the case if anything it was a tell tale sign of anything more than the false assumption that sex equates intimacy.

“ One, night time park going is what vampires do and two, I love the sounds you make but it’s too late at night for even that and besides can’t I pamper you in the morning?” You cooed connecting eyes with her partiality closed ones hidden by long thick eyelashes. Knowing full well you’d probably do what she was asking in the hopes of her relaxing enough to fall asleep with you.

“Pamper me now, I’m worth it.” She pressed further her icy breath reminding you fall was here and Loki was yours. She emitted no heat and was inevitably useless in the chilly autumn mornings and nights and yet you still flocked to her as if she was a space heater.

You sighed feeling as though maybe a conversation would come out of it and obliged all at once into the thought of that.

In a quick moment your arms wrapped around her middle and flipped her over onto her back completely knocking the breath out of her. “Promise you’ll be quiet, the neighbors won’t be pleased if not.” You whispered, setting your hands on her thigh and looking for a sign of approval.

She nodded as a dull smile pulled on her rosy lips but you could see the weariness behind her green eyes and her forced teasing. Loki stifled a yawn and urged you to proceed with her hand covering yours.

“Okay,” you whispered more to yourself than to her, simply accepting the fact that it would be another month of you accepting the problems in your relationship rather than fixing them. To further hinder yourself from even thinking of proposing because of a crippling fear of rejection.

Loki, who knew everything, had been struggling so openly with her own problems that she didn’t notice all the web pages you searched trying to find the perfect ring for someone who existed outside of the"masculine" and “feminine” gender norms. Or the way you rehearsed your hypothetical proposal only for you to end up hating the way you looked, talked and tried so hard.

Were there any problems in your relationship? Or did you just purposely not ask Loki what was wrong to give yourself a reason of not sucking it up and proposing to the love of your life. Either way, everything felt so wrong and so idiotic and it was all your fault.

-/-

Loki moaned out, squirming as you kneaded her feet through the ghost themed socks you had bought her for shits and giggles. Never actually expecting her to wear them since they looked so silly. Her long black locks were pulled into a inhumanly adorable pony-tail which did motivate you to get finished faster to press kisses along the exposed sensitive skin of her neck.

“You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic haven’t you?” You said with an eye roll at her excessive moaning and groaning as she lay sprawled out with her feet in your lap. Still keeping a close eye on just what she liked the most judging from the way her breath quickened or when her eyes fluttered shut.

“Take it as a compliment it means you’re doing a good job,” Loki whimpered and wiggled her toes thoroughly pleased at what you spent the last two hours doing. At least, that’s what the wide grin on her face told you from just watching her intensely.

“Alright,” you started as you moved her feet from your lap and placed them on either side of you,“I’ve given you a foot massage and I’ve painted your nails now will you rest?” You hummed as your settled between her legs and leaned down to where your faces were almost touching softly rubbing your nose faintly against hers.

She pulled your face forward,careful not to use her fingers and only gripping you by her palms. She met your lips nothing hyper passionate or long lasting at all. It was brief but sweet and fulfilling, giving you the time to feel her cinnamon flavored lips and breathe in her comforting scent.“My nails are still wet so I can’t,” she mumbled against your lips they way her lips moved still pressed to yours made all the fears and worries of the proposing disappear entirely. You wanted to do it this month and you wanted to make sure everything was perfect no matter the answer.

You could have stayed like that forever either but it was your job to force those feelings down and focus on the matter at hand.

Sleep.

You groaned in annoyance and threw your hands up as you moved to plop down elsewhere than between her milky white legs. Even if it physically pained you not to dip down and leave a trail of bites across her untouched skin you refrained turning away and actively not looking at the tempting flesh.

“What? I’m serious! I swear feel it, come on just feel it.” She pleaded as she sat up out stretching her hands to you in an attempt to convince you she wasn’t stalling. Which for as great of an actor Loki was she was doing a poor job in convincing you.

“Loki…” you said clasping your hands in your lap and looking down. You fidgeted, picking at the hem of your sleeve and biting the inside of your cheek. Your eyes brushed over Loki’s hands which were still outstretched, focusing on the places where the polish was uneven or where it ran off her nail and stained her skin. You lacked the right words to show your immediate interest in her well-being.There were always the little things you did to show this, like making a habit out of bundling her up before letting her walk outside. She in turn let you go on a pointless mantra about her catching a cold when you both knew she wouldn’t but that was just clothing and this wasn’t insignificant. “Are the nightmares back?”

The question was simple enough but you hated the entire sentence, you hated that you had to ask and you hated how silent everything felt afterwards. It took a lot to gather the strength for you to ask and you couldn’t fathom how hard it would be for Loki to answer. You avoided her gaze just as she avoided yours playing a game of look at everything but who you are regarding.

Loki’s posture changed, she brought her knees closer to her chest and hunched over in a protective position. The nails you were once observing were pulled closer to her chest so that she could admire and pick at them. Her pony-tail swished and dangled itself forward tickling her cheek.

“They’re getting worse (Name),” she was so quiet you almost didn’t hear the cry for help. You never knew what the nightmares were about, Loki wouldn’t tell you even if you asked. Still it hurt you see her so visibly exhausted and terrified of what waited for her when she closed her eyes. No one deserved to live in fear of themselves especially not Loki.

It pissed you off at how strained she sounded and it pissed you off you couldn’t ever make them go away. You slowly brought your eyes up to Loki’s who was staring downwards her expression was indescribable. It was flat and stiff but from the way her trembled you could tell she was fighting back her emotions.

“Pumpkin spice”

“Excuse me?”

“Pumpkin spice… I mean not pumpkin spice I just I-I” You stuttered out not really finding a way it made sense that you were speaking of pumpkin spice after Loki was confessing night terrors. The connection was scattered but all you could think of was the cold air and city lights that Loki would adore from your view on the balcony and possibly allow herself rest when surrounded by it.

Loki looked confused for more than a few moments. Even her eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought until a trusting smile shone brightly across her once cold features. You expected her to ask you what you were going on about or more concerns but instead you got something only Loki would reply back with,“You really take fall far too seriously, it’s only the first of the month love,” she teased laughing loudly at your dumbfounded expression.

“Says the person who decorated the whole flat in a night,” you shoot back trying to stay stern but Loki being overcome with laughter at her own jokes was a truly amazing experience. You had missed those expressions and sounds so much you almost didn’t want her to ever stop laughing at you.

“Can we talk about things? I know I don’t understand much and I know sometimes I’m not what you need but I care about you and your well being. Please talk to me even if it’s about pumpkin spice I just want to help.” You gave her a weak smile and offered our hand you her once the remains of a smile had disappeared. Loki pursed her lips and nodded allowing you to clasp her hand, grab a blanket and pull her onto the balcony.

The air was frigid, as soon as you stepped outside you felt yourself shiver in response. Loki’s face flushed, a natural red tint covered her cheeks and the very tip of her nose. You could hear the noises of a city that never sleeps and your flat was in the perfect spot to overlook it all.

You dropped down wrapping yourself in the large blanket and allowing Loki to carefully eye you as she did the same. She draped her legs over yours and leaned to rest her head atop your shoulder allowing you to engulf her into the layers of warmth as well.

“I don’t know what to say,” She finally whispers her hand finding yours underneath the covers. Her cold fingers intertwined with yours and no protest would ever be heard from you for that.

“Do you want to tell me what they’re about?” You tried to maintain an even calm tone but the anticipation for her answer grew the longer she stayed silent.

“No,” she finally said sighting softly and causing your heart to sink. You had tried so many times before but this time you were sure you would have earned an answer as to what haunted her so that she would wake up panting and drenched in sweat with the fact that frost giants don’t tend to do that.

“Well, would you like to tell me what’s making them worse?” You spoke quietly, rubbing circles into her back and leaning your own head to rest atop hers. Everything was calm and still even if it was only you both being calm and still.

“You’re there,” she replied slow as the last time, she gripped your hand tighter as the words left her lips and your heart ached.

“Loki, I know I can’t protect you from yourself and I know you dislike talking about these things. But i’m here, i’m here and I swear that even if you have a terrifying dream I’m going to be right here to hold you through it. Please just trust me, please rest I’ll be here holding you the entire time.” The plea was met with more silence and the more silence you had gotten the more you worried.

“I love you too, I do trust you I just… I want to forget those times in the day when I’m with you. You fill me with such contentment and joy that the thought of going back to those memories at night- I can’t - I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m sorry I’m not good at communicating and I’m sorry you have to worry about me but I’m trying to get better and to be better for you, don’t give up on me yet.” Loki sniffled quietly onto your shoulder and you came to a realization that while you thought you knew what Loki was feeling at times you truly didn’t and wouldn’t until you actually asked.

“Loki, I’m so proud of you and you’re so brave it’s scary. I never thought of it like that and I’m sorry but I just want you to not have to actively avoid sleep because of that. I want you to be able to feel safe with me and not have to make those destructive decisions.I couldn’t ever give up on you because quite frankly I’m lost without you. I mean come on, who else would urge me to step outside my comfort zones like you do? Or let me fall asleep during something they really wanted to share with me and not get the slightest bit angry. No one else would dislike something like Halloween so openly and still let me drone on and on about it all year. ”

Loki laughed, the type of laugh that just kind of burst forth after or during a good cry. “Halloween is pretty stupid, I don’t understand why you mortals like it… I do feel safe with you I just didn’t want you to feel that I depend too heavily on you, I know i’m a lot to deal with.”

You breathed in deeply, the scent of Loki’s mint shampoo drifting all around you only for you to say the very last thing you ever wanted to, “Jokes on you I’m going to propose on Halloween in a costume you hate with a ring pop just because I’m a lot to deal with.” You froze at the words, you had just confessed the mere thought of proposing and how Loki would perceive it terrified you.

“Jokes on you I’ll say no and still eat the ring pop.” Loki yawned as she sunk down you buried her face into your chest breathing you in as you just did her only to further the quiet panic you were having.

Should you press further into the topic of you proposing? Or should you drop it all together and just enjoy being this close. After a few minutes of nothing but cold air and the noises of cars you saw the sun peeking into the horizon.

“I might propose… with a real ring,” You whispered biting your lower lip awaiting a response from Loki. When none came your nervousness had come to a all time high, You knew it was a bad idea to bring it up but you did still.

“I’ll still be wearing a stupid costume,” you said in a rushed tone trying to save the yourself from the awkwardness you ensued. When that didn’t get a response you took into account of Loki’s body and the rise and fall of her chest.

Her hand was limp in yours and her breathing was gentle and stable, you looked down and saw her slightly parted lips and blush covered cheeks made you smile but not before you breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God,” you said glad she was asleep and that she didn’t hear you all at once.

You decided two things on top of the balcony on the first of October. One, that on Halloween you were going to propose in a costume Loki hated with a real ring and two, you’d always be there when Loki needed you even if that meant catching your death by cold on a balcony in the early morning.

[gidget-losing-it]

Day 5: PHEW! Thank GOODNESS that’s done.

Before I begin, I wanna say Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out in the inter-webs. I hope you had a marvelous, relaxing and enjoyable day!

TODAY WAS A CHALLENGE!

So today being Dad’s day, my siblings, mother and I typically take my dad to breakfast. He’s an avid oatmeal consumer, so we make sure it has GOOD oatmeal. We had planned to go to an early-ish breakfast so some family members could complete their religious obligations, and I had a second get together for Boyfriend’s family about an hour and half away. So morning was the plan, right? 

Well, as the saying goes -- When you make a plan, God laughs. Oh, he had a nice hardy laugh at ALL of us. Turned out Sister had a prior obligation that required her attention ALL MORNING (we are talking from 8 AM to NOON - no small feat on a Sunday). And then there is me, thinking my first “meal” will be around 9 so I need to plan these fuelings accordingly... 

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.... 

Long story short, my morning was ENTIRELY thrown off... I did not have a full 2 or 3 hours between meals AND my L&G was really small... like HALF portion of what it probably should be and the opportunity to consume more veggies/protein were few and far between. 😞 At one point, I turned to Boyfriend and asked very seriously, “Is it bad I just want some alcohol today?” Yeah... It was ROUGH!

But I kept to it! 

8:30 AM - Breakfast OMR - Cranberry something bar (yuck)

I have discovered I am not a fan of these Crisp bars. The are so very DRY. I was also quite upset eating this an hour and a half after I probably should have eaten it. ⭐⭐

11 AM - 2nd Breakfast OMR - Creamy Chocolate Shake

Ok... I got creative... Instead of water to make this shake, I used 8 oz of COFFEE! It was an automatic, “diet” mocha and quite honestly, it was GOOD! I am so very happy with this hack! I may have to add a page just for OMR hacks! 😁 ⭐⭐⭐⭐

1:45 PM - L&G Meal - Mini Greek-Goddess Omelette (Le Peep Restaurant)

Ok... First of all... This omelette was MINI... it was not a full serving of ANYTHING. I had the tomatoes (thanks to an allergy) and the feta cheese removed from the actual meal. I was left with blah. Cholula was glazed on to this meal. Spinach was BARELY present. I left so hungry. I drank 3 glasses of iced tea (no sweetener) too. Just all around disappointed. I desperately wanted the potatoes and english muffin that came with it, but was strong. This gets just one star because at least there was something for me to eat. ⭐

4 PM - 2nd Lunch OMR - Zesty Cheddar & Italian Herb Crunchers 

Meh... these are bland, weird tasting, Cheetos. Not terrible, but according to Boyfriend and little Dooder, they smell rank... I honestly didn’t even notice I was so hungry.   ⭐⭐⭐

7:45 PM - Dinner OMR - Zesty BBQ Crunchers 

I opted not to eat any of the Barbecue food at Boyfriend’s dad’s place. I was trying really hard not to over do it because, as small as my L&G meal was, I still had my free meal of the day. There is no way I am going to ruin this track I have going. I didn’t even have desert, which was an AMAZING spread of cheesecake, dragon fruit, tres leches cake... ALL my favorites, and I didn't even have a BITE. (That’s right be proud, I certainly am!). So when we left, I had my bag of these BBQ things. I needed water. These were very dry and taste similar to the Cheddar ones I had at 4 PM.  ⭐⭐⭐

9:30 PM - Desert OMR - Chocolate Mint Cookie Crisp

As I write this OBSCENELY long post, I am savoring this delicious little bar. It’s no Thin Mint, but it sure is good! Still not a big fan of the Crisp bars... they still feel dry and leave me wanting a glass of milk or something, but this one certainly hits the spot.   ⭐⭐⭐⭐

All-in-all, I kept to my strict food rules. I brought my snacks with me and kept my mind focused on my end goal of being happier, healthier and fitter. Boyfriend was beyond supportive as was his family. It’s rare to feel like you are doing the right thing when the food around you isn’t necessarily unhealthy, but you are being strict. One person even commended me for sticking to my foods. 😄

Tomorrow, the Routine Returns!

I am SO excited to go back to work tomorrow, to go back to my standard food routine and life. I am so driven by my schedule, it’s probably bad, but it is SO helpful, specially with this program. Signing off! 

[theaceace]

more like a weaver, myself

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Words: 2377

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: The Web knows how to wait, how to play the long game. Or - Jon Sims was marked by his first encounter with the paranormal, more than he knew.

Warnings: Canon-typical spookiness and manipulation

Can also be read at AO3 here

The boy is afraid. This is not strange – it is good, in fact. The boy should be afraid. It wants him to be afraid. Limbs paralysed by fear are so much easier to twist than those that fight back. It wouldn’t be much of a fight either way, of course. Not for it.

The boy is small, a full head shorter than the children he stumbles past, and spindly. His long fingers linger over the corner of each page before he turns it, and his feet find their way unerringly over the uneven path, eyes never once leaving the page. He doesn’t see the fine strands of web looping themselves around his ankles, tugging his feet into place; but then, he wouldn’t be able to see them even if he knew to try.

His name is Jonny, a frustrated huff from the mouth of his grandmother; or young mister Sims, fond and exceptionally dry from his neighbour; or freak, muttered and unheard by a couple of children that watch him pass with narrow eyes; or little Einstein, from the boy that slaps the book from his hand.

Or mine, from the Web.

But the book is in new hands now, larger, and already marked with little burn scars from a lighter tucked in a back pocket. If left, this boy would wander close to the Desolation, may even be claimed. Normally, the Web wouldn’t notice. The sort of people drawn to the flames weren’t the sort of people it wanted to pull in, but this is different. This is an interruption. This is an insult.

The threads around this new boy draw tight, far tighter than they would have had to around Jonny Sims mine. This boy would fight, if he were capable. Jonny Sims mine would follow his desperate curiosity to the ends of the Earth with little more than a guiding tug here and there to shift his attention. It would have been so easy to lure him in; an odd feeling here, the imitation of a mystery there. But now the connection is stretched thin – not broken, not quite. Weakened. Easier to ignore.

Jonny Sims (mine) doesn’t ignore it. He follows the little insect of a teenager, every one of his limbs tight with fear, breath short. He shivers – he hasn’t noticed that he isn’t wearing a jacket, or shoes. That he’d wandered out of the house, past his grandmother asleep in her armchair. She won’t wake until it is too late.

He follows, two steps behind, down every narrow little twisting road. His eyes never leave the boy ahead, never once glance at his surroundings, but the Web can feel the way he catalogues information as he goes. All the little background sensations, the smells, the sounds. He files it all away in the very back of his mind to pause over later. The Web approves, as much as it is able. Though information, watching, is every part the domain of Beholding, manipulation is impossible unless you know at least the shape of a person; even the vaguest outline. Its Jonny Sims is too straightforward for any such machinations as he is. There is potential there, but for now he is too demanding, too impatient. The Web moves slowly, at a pace that it thinks would frustrate him.

Not that it matters, of course. It would be nice to have him alive, but it’s in no way a necessity.

Jonny Sims miiiiiine stops in the middle of the road when the teenager reaches the door. He stands well back, shivers running up and down the length of his body now. He does nothing but watch as the door opens, as the Web reaches out one of its many, many legs to this scrap of a meal. His eyes are wide, with mingled terror and sickened fascination.

He stares, and stares, and stares, until the door shuts again with a soft snick, and he never once notices the gossamer threads curled around his fingertips.

The Web never loses him. Of course it doesn’t. But the Web is patient, in its own way, and it doesn’t have a need for him.

It may never need him. That isn’t the point.

It doesn’t help him when he finds the application for the Magnus Institute – a research position, pinned haphazardly to the board outside his professor’s office – but it also doesn’t try to stop him. Jonny Sims (who goes by Jon now, which fits his severe features and clipped tone, but not the nights he still wakes on a flinch, the feeling of phantom legs curling around his chest, his arms, into his hair) is still as insatiably curious as he had ever been. The Web isn’t surprised that he would be so quickly enamoured with the Beholding’s stronghold – even if serious, straightforward Jon would never think to use such a word when describing himself.

The Web also isn’t worried. Its threads have never let him go, over the years, its many eyes following him. But it has thousands of other threads, all tugging at its attention, all clamouring for its notice. There are others out there it watches, that are wrapped up far tighter than little Jonny Sims. It can’t focus all of its energy on him – but it also knows that Beholding will be content to watch, and watch, and watch, and do nothing else, even when a man with silvery cobwebs woven through his hair crosses the threshold for the first time.

Of course, the head of the Institute notices; he Looks through the mind of Jonathan, quick and light. Sees the book, the door, the low-level fear and disgust inspired by even the thought of spiders ever since. Sees it all, and dismisses it as unimportant. Either the Beholding will claim him as its own, here where it is strongest, or he will die quickly enough. That’s how it always goes; mostly in the Archives, but throughout the rest of the Institute as well.

And so, Jonny Sims – mine, mine, MINE - starts his new job at the Magnus Institute, London.

The Web can feel it, when Beholding takes notice. That’s fine. He belonged to it first.

Things get complicated eventually, because of course they do. There is, to an extent, some level of protection that is implied by Jon’s position as Archivist. It is not complete – of course not, the Beholding doesn’t go around claiming people, that would be far too much like interfering – but it does make it harder to strengthen its own hold on him.

So it has to improvise a little.

It had known what Elias Bouchard was planning for a while, and Elias Bouchard had known it had known. It had known what would happen to Jonny Sims when he disappeared down and lost himself among the statements, and it found itself repulsed on a deep, vicious level. How dare he?

It can’t stop him – manipulation of a thing like Elias Bouchard is exceptionally difficult, and utterly impossible without some element of surprise. Something that it lost the first day Jonny Sims MINE had walked into his office. Its Jonny Sims will be the Archivist, and that is that.

Except.

There are many, many pieces in motion already; it is the work of half a thought and mere moments to shift a couple around, and tug a flyer enticingly in the wind, to pull someone two steps forward to clear a line of sight, and let it catch the eye of Martin Blackwood without ever once touching him.

Martin introduces himself the first day, standing in the threshold of the Archivist’s office, stammering and unable to meet the eyes of his immediate boss. A furious flush colours his cheeks and spreads patchily down his throat that it notes with – not interest, exactly. But it notes it all the same. No doubt it can utilise that, at some point.

He is taller than little Jonny Sims – even if Jonathan were to straighten out of the terrible hunch he maintains over books, laptops, the morning paper – and broader too. He is nothing at all like the sour faced and wiry boy the Web almost caught all those years ago, but that same curiosity sits on the back of his tongue. He is immediately taken with the sullen, scowling face, and the Web feels a little surge of triumph at its choice. It won’t take long for Martin to do anything for its Jonny Sims, even though his first impression is a deeply displeased twitch of the mouth and a curt has no one told you it’s polite to knock?

The Archivist barely glances up from his notes, even as Martin manages to make his apologies. Not when he returns with a tray of tea and biscuits, and carefully knocks on the doorframe, tray precariously balanced on one arm. Only takes the mug with a muttered thank you, not even glancing at the spiderwebbed pattern of cracks in the glaze.

It is, it feels, an excellent start.

It likes Martin, insofar as it can like anything. He is useless to it on his own, of course, with no innate fear of spiders, and a certain dismissal of manipulation; like he thinks he is far enough below anyone’s notice as to be not worth the time or effort put into such a thing. But he is a grounding presence, soft and warm and human, and never shoos away the spiders in his apartment. He will be good for Jonny Sims (the Archivist now), good at drawing him out of the confines of his own head, and the heads of the people on paper.

And – more importantly – Elias Bouchard will never think to look twice at him.

The others leave their marks on its Jonny.

Scars.

Fears.

Statements.

Oh, it doesn’t like that. It doesn’t like that at all.

For all that Elias Bouchard likes to think of himself as all-seeing, for all that he boasts of knowing everything that happens in his Institute, he never notices the odd little cobweb here and there. Nowhere he would frequent, of course. Nowhere he would think to look too closely.

Places like the stationery cupboard. The second-floor bathroom that always has at least one tap not working. The tea room.

It watches and listens, contents itself with occasionally scaring an employee half out of their wits as they turn around and spot a fat cardinal spider on the wall that seconds ago had been empty. Although he isn’t watching for it, even Elias Bouchard would notice if it stole away one of his employees.

It waits.

It doesn’t quite have all the time in the world, but it at least has longer than the Stranger.

It’s proud, in its way, of Martin Blackwood. He shows remarkable aptitude for the sort of twisting thoughts and careful, delicate traps it prefers. It likes, as well, to see its lighter put to good use. A gift for its Jonny Sims, originally, but this pleases it very well too, watching the statements go up in flames from eight little eyes in the corner of the room. It had started to get bold, when it realised what they were planning. When it realised the sort of danger Jonny Sims – no NO MINE MINE! – was about to put himself in.

When it realised Elias Bouchard wouldn’t be a problem for too much longer.

It knows – or is fairly certain, at least – what will take over his role as the head of the Institute, and it knows it has little to fear from the Lonely. So wrapped up in their own little heads, and their own wide worlds, the Lukas family never notice anything it doesn’t want them to. Slipping under that radar will be child’s play.

But still, it doesn’t quite have all the time in the world. As much as the thought repulsed him, its Jonny Sims took to the role of Archivist like a fly to a web – struggling and terrified, but inevitable. Caught all the tighter for his thrashing. Almost resigned to his own consumption.

And that won’t do, not at all. As he gets pulled in deeper to the mess of dreams and statements all knotted up inside his head, its threads pull taught, threaten to snap. It can’t have that, not at all.

It has its ideas, though. Its plans. Now there is no Elias Bouchard to keep a watchful eye over the Assistants, and Peter Lukas wouldn’t know what to look for.

It watches the despair begin to overtake them. The two women don’t come to visit its Jonny Sims often, and when they do, they are tense. One – tall, with hair scraped back from her face at all times – clenches her jaw so tight the muscles bulge, like she wants to shout. Sometimes she does. The nurses here know better than to interrupt. That one is very good at masking fear as fury.

The other – lighter on her feet, with tired, tired eyes – says very little, only sighs and tucks a tape recorder into her bag for each visit. Just in case.

Martin’s fear is palpable, though. It’s almost thick enough to see in the air, and often flavoured by tears. He visits more than anyone else combined, and will sit for hours, apparently content to do nothing but read heavy tomes bound in suspicious materials, and occasionally point out what he considers an interesting passage to the unresponsive Archivist. Days go past, then weeks, and he visits no less, although he stops chatting about the books he’s reading, stops muttering to the Archivist about how much he is needed, stops – well. He doesn’t stop trying, but he does stop hoping. It sees the moment something in him settles, when he makes a decision.

It starts to weave.

There is more grey in his hair now, and the delicate pattern of veins under his skin looks different. His eyes, when they open, are for a moment black from lid to lid, before he blinks and they settle back to bloodshot sclera, rich brown irises, pinprick pupils. The room is empty besides him, and a little money spider making its home on the window.

Jonny Sims breathes, blinks all of his eyes, and wakes up.

[tlbodine]

Grammar for Writers: Paragraphs & the Anatomy of a Page

The first chapter of my grammar guide, Word Powered, is now available on Wattpad: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/142046002-word-powered-how-to-write-like-a-pro

Be sure to add it to your library to get updates, or follow the tag “#grammar guide for writers” here on Tumblr to see all of them :) 

Books are made up of chapters, and chapters are made up of pages. Even on the web, where there are no "pages" per se, the individual building blocks of a page -- paragraphs, sentences, words -- are still important.

So let's look first at paragraphs, those blocks of text that hold together ideas. On the web, paragraphs are divided up by blank lines (see the blank line between this text and the ones before and after it?) In a printed book or manuscript, the first line of a new paragraph is indented.

Paragraphs serve a few important purposes:

They break up the text and add white space to the page, which makes it easier to read

They organize thoughts or subjects together

They lead the reader from one thought to the next

In school, you might learn about paragraph structure (topic sentence, supporting sentence, conclusion) but how do paragraphs work in fiction?

As it turns out, kind of the same way.

You should use paragraphs to group together ideas and structure the flow of the narrative. Aim to keep your paragraphs pretty short -- three to five sentences is usually fine (unless they're very small sentences).

Start a new paragraph every time a speaker changes in dialogue.

Start a new paragraph whenever there is a time jump, a change in location, a change in POV or any other transition.

 If you want a sentence to pack a particular punch, set it in its own paragraph; it will stand out more that way. A lot of writers do this with first and last sentences in chapters or stories -- open your nearest book and count how many times it happens!  

Paragraph breaks add white space to the page, which is important for keeping the reader engaged. Huge blocks of text are hard to read and intimidating; readers may be tempted to skim them. Breaking out page into individual paragraphs makes a huge difference in the way it's read.

Here's an example. This is the first 200 words from my book River of Souls, first with no paragraph breaks, then with paragraph breaks. Tell me which reads better?

----

When the dead first began to rise, people thought it was a miracle. The first person to come back was just 19, a little younger than I was at the time. He killed himself with a shotgun blast to the chest and was pronounced dead at the scene. No one — not the paramedics, not the family who found the body — could have mistaken him for a survivor, not with all the bits of meat tangled by buckshot inside his chest cavity. So not quite 12 hours later, imagine their surprise when he woke in the morgue, gasping and gurgling as he tried to speak. Imagine his family's confusion giving way to delight and hope. Our sweet little boy is back, someone probably said. We have a second chance to make everything right. That's what I assume, anyway. The news never really said. Before they had a chance to run with the story, to book his family on all the morning talk-shows or start up a bidding war for the rights to his memoir, the next corpse had awoken. And the next, and the next, and soon this wasn't a human interest piece anymore, not a freak accident or a miracle. It was an epidemic.

---

When the dead first began to rise, people thought it was a miracle.

The first person to come back was just 19, a little younger than I was at the time. He killed himself with a shotgun blast to the chest and was pronounced dead at the scene. No one — not the paramedics, not the family who found the body — could have mistaken him for a survivor, not with all the bits of meat tangled by buckshot inside his chest cavity.

So not quite 12 hours later, imagine their surprise when he woke in the morgue, gasping and gurgling as he tried to speak. Imagine his family's confusion giving way to delight and hope. Our sweet little boy is back, someone probably said. We have a second chance to make everything right.

That's what I assume, anyway. The news never really said. Before they had a chance to run with the story, to book his family on all the morning talk-shows or start up a bidding war for the rights to his memoir, the next corpse had awoken. And the next, and the next, and soon this wasn't a human interest piece anymore, not a freak accident or a miracle.

It was an epidemic.

---

You see this section is off-set with two single-sentence paragraphs. They act as bookends for the stuff in the middle and are meant to pack more punch -- the final sentence, "it was an epidemic," answers the unspoken question of the first sentence ("was it really a miracle?")

The three paragraphs in-between are divided up by time and subject matter.

Your turn! Take a look at the nearest book or story and look at the sentences it contains. Try to see why it was arranged that way, or what it might look like if the paragraph breaks were in a different place.

Next time you're writing something, be mindful to include paragraph breaks as necessary to keep the story flowing (and your reader's eyes from glazing over).

[michaelandy101-blog]

Core Web Vitals: The Next Official Google Ranking Factor - Whiteboard Friday

New Post has been published on http://tiptopreview.com/core-web-vitals-the-next-official-google-ranking-factor-whiteboard-friday-3/

Core Web Vitals: The Next Official Google Ranking Factor - Whiteboard Friday

There’s a new ranking factor in town: Core Web Vitals. Expected in 2021, this Google-announced algorithm change has a few details you should be aware of. Cyrus Shepard dives in this week on Whiteboard Friday.

Click on the whiteboard image above to open a high-resolution version in a new tab!

Video Transcription

Howdy, Moz fans. Welcome to another edition of Whiteboard Friday. I’m Cyrus Shepard here at Moz. Today we’re talking about the next official Google ranking factor — Core Web Vitals. Now what do I mean by official ranking factor?

Google makes hundreds of changes a year. Every week they introduce new changes to their algorithm. Occasionally they announce ranking factor changes. They do this in particular when something is important or they want to encourage people, webmasters to make changes to their site beforehand. They do this for important things like HTTPS and other signals.

So this is one they actually announced. It’s confusing to a lot of people, so I wanted to try to demystify what this ranking signal means, what we can do to diagnose and prepare for it, and basically get in a place where we’re ready for things to happen. So what is it? Big first question. 

What are Core Web Vitals?

So these are real-world experience metrics that Google is looking at, that answer things like: How fast does the page load? How fast is it interactive? How fast is it stable? So basically, when visitors are using your web page on a mobile or a desktop device, what’s that experience like in terms of speed, how fast can they interact with it, things like that.

Now it’s joining a group of metrics that Google calls Page Experience signals. It’s not really a standalone. It’s grouped in with these Page Experience metrics that are separate from the text on the page. So these are signals like mobile friendliness, HTTPS, intrusive interstitials, which are those pop-ups that come on and appear.

It’s not so much about the text of the page, which are traditional ranking signals, but more about the user experience and what it’s like, how pleasant it is to use the page, how useful it is. These are especially important on mobile when sometimes the speed isn’t as high. So that’s what Google is measuring here. So that’s what it is.

Where is this going to affect rankings? 

Well, it’s going to affect all regular search results, mobile and desktop, based on certain criteria. But also, and this is an important point, Core Web Vitals are going to become a criteria to appear in Google Top Stories. These are the news results that usually appear at the top of search results.

Previously, AMP was a requirement to appear in those Top Stories. AMP is going away. So you still have to meet the requirements for regular Google News inclusion, but AMP is not going to be a requirement anymore to appear in Top Stories. But you are going to have to meet a minimum threshold of Core Web Vitals.

So that’s an important point. So this could potentially affect a lot of ranking results. 

When is it going to happen? 

Well, Google has told us that it’s going to happen sometime in 2021. Because of COVID-19, they have pushed back the release of this within the algorithm, and they want to give webmasters extra time to prepare.

They have promised us at least six months’ notice to get ready. As of this recording, today we have not received that six-month notice. When that updates, we will update this post to let you know when that’s going to be. So anytime Google announces a ranking factor change, the big question is: 

How big of a change is this going to be?

How much do I have to worry about these metrics, and how big of results are we going to see shift in Google SERPs? Well, it’s important to keep in mind that Google has hundreds of ranking signals. So the impact of any one signal is usually not that great. That said, if your site is particularly poor at some of these metrics, it could make a difference.

If you’re in a highly competitive environment, competing against people for highly competitive terms, these can make a difference. So it probably is not going to be huge based on past experience with other ranking signals, but it is still something that we might want to address especially if you’re doing pretty poorly.

The other thing to consider, some Google signals have outsized impact beyond their actual ranking factors. Things like page speed, it’s probably a pretty small signal, but as users experience it, it can have outsized influence. Google’s own studies show that for pages that meet these thresholds of Core Web Vitals, visitors are 24% less likely to abandon the site.

So even without Core Web Vitals being an official Google ranking factor, it can still be important because it provides a better user experience. Twenty-four percent is like gaining 24% more traffic without doing anything, simply by making your site a little more usable. So even without that, it’s probably still something we want to consider.

Three signals for Core Web Vitals

So I want to jump briefly into the specifics of Core Web Vitals, what they’re measuring. I think people get a little hung up on these because they’re very technical. Their eyes kind of glaze over when you talk about them. So my advice would be let’s not get hung up on the actual specifics. But I think it is important to understand, in layman’s terms, exactly what’s being measured.

More importantly, we want to talk about how to measure, identify problems, and fix these things if they happen to be wrong. So very briefly, there are three signals that go into Core Web Vitals. 

1. Largest contentful paint (LCP)

The first being largest contentful paint (LCP). This basically asks, in layman’s terms, how fast does the page load? Very easy concept. So this is hugely influenced by the render time, the largest image, video, text in the viewport.

That’s what Google is looking at. The largest thing in the viewport, whether it be a desktop page or a mobile page, the largest piece of content, whether it be an image, video or text, how fast does that take to load? Very simple. That can be influenced by your server time, your CSS, JavaScript, client-side rendering.

All of these can play a part. So how fast does it load? 

2. Cumulative layout shift (CLS)

The second thing, cumulative layout shift (CLS). Google is asking with this question, how fast is the page stable? Now I’m sure we’ve all had an experience where we’ve loaded a page on our mobile phone, we go to click a button, and at the last second it shifts and we hit something else or something in the page layout has an unexpected layout shift.

That’s poor user experience. So that’s what Google is measuring with cumulative layout shift. How fast is everything stable? The number one reason that things aren’t stable is that image sizes often aren’t defined. So if you have an image and it’s 400 pixels wide and tall, those need to be defined in the HTML. There are other reasons as well, such as animations and things like that.

But that’s what they’re measuring, cumulative layout shift. 

3. First input delay (FID)

Third thing within these Core Web Vitals metrics is first input delay (FID). So this question is basically asking, how fast is the page interactive? To put it another way, when a user clicks on something, a button or a JavaScript event, how fast can the browser start to process that and produce a result?

It’s not a good experience when you click on something and nothing happens or it’s very slow. So that’s what that’s measuring. That can depend on your JavaScript, third-party code, and there are different ways to dig in and fix those. So these three all together are Core Web Vitals and play into the page experience signals. So like I said, let’s not get hung up on these.

How to measure & fix

Let’s focus on what’s really important. If you have a problem, how do you measure how you’re doing with Core Web Vitals, and how do you fix those issues? Google has made it very, very simple to discover. The first thing you want to do is look in Search Console. They have a new report there — Core Web Vitals. They will tell you all your URLs that they have in their index, whether they’re poor, needs improvement, or good.

If you have URLs that are poor or needs improvement, that’s when you want to investigate and find out what’s wrong and how you can improve those pages. Every report in Search Console links to a report in Page Speed Insights. This is probably the number-one tool you want to use to diagnose your problems with Core Web Vitals.

It’s powered by Lighthouse, a suite of performance metric tools. You want to focus on the opportunities and diagnostics. Now I’m going to be honest with you. Some of these can get pretty technical. You may need a web developer who is an expert in page speed or someone else who can comfortably address these problems if you’re not very technical.

We have a number of resources here on the Moz Blog dealing with page speed. We’ll link to those in the comments below. But generally, you want to go through and you want to address each of these opportunities and diagnostics to improve your Core Web Vitals score and get these out of poor and needs improvement into good. Now if you don’t have access to Search Console, Google has put these reports in many, many tools across the web.

Lighthouse, of course, you can run for any page. Chrome Dev Tools, the Crux API. All of these are available and resources for you to find out exactly how your site is performing with Core Web Vitals and go in and we have until sometime in 2021 to address these things. All right, that’s it.

That’s Core Web Vitals in a nutshell. We’ve got more than six months to go. Get ready. At least at a very minimum dive in and see how your site is performing and see if we can find some easy wins to get our sites up to speed. All right. Thanks, everybody.

Video transcription by Speechpad.com

Source link