#and there is likely not going to be another chance to get pre-graduate work in this area

[thriftdyke]

applying for internships (🤮) and so far I’ve gotten 2 responses… one is paid but I might have to work with children (yikes) and the other is for a church that does art stuff with a women’s prison (yippee) that is probably not paid…. if it comes down to deciding between being paid to work with a population I hate* or being exploited to work with a population I love I’m gonna have to have words with God

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Dinner and a Show

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, loves 🖤

English has always been your favorite subject. There’s something magical about the way twenty-six letters woven together in just the right combination can have a story coming to life, painting a picture behind your eyelids as your brain processes the lines on the page before you. It’s why you applied for graduate school as an English major.

But if your professor uses the phrase duality of man one more time, you might just blow your brains out.

You find yourself doodling random patterns in the corner of your notebook as your thoughts drift to a certain brooding brunette who would likely have much to say about Dostoevsky’s protagonist.

The unsub is a white male, twenty to thirty years old, with narcissistic personality disorder who struggles to reconcile his mediocre place in society with what he believes to be an above-average intelligence. 

Your phone buzzing on the desk beside you breaks you out of your reverie, and you flip it over to see a notification from your bank. A grin threatens to split your face in half as you open your messaging app and scroll down to AH 🖤.

Were your ears ringing? I was just thinking about you 😍

Before you have a chance to lock your phone, the speech bubble pops up and taunts you with its three flashing dots. It disappears, reappears, and then your phone buzzes once more.

I know you have class. Pay attention.

Says the guy who just distracted me with a nice little pre-weekend deposit

Is that your way of saying thank you, brat?

You feel a familiar heat prickling the back of your neck and take a quick look around to make sure your classmates are focused on the lecture. Hiding your phone in your lap, you hunt through recent pictures until you find a specific photo: a shot of your body from the neck down, clad in a lacy red set that barely counts as underwear. Attaching the image to your text, you shoot back a response.

No Daddy... THIS is 🥰

Shuffling from all around you alerts you to the fact that class has mercifully ended, and you stand to gather your things, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. You make plans to meet up with a classmate at a coffee shop on Sunday to peer edit each other’s final papers for the course, then start your trek to the parking lot. As you approach your car, your phone begins vibrating incessantly and you tuck it between your ear and shoulder after accepting the call. “House of Hotchner’s whores, how may I serve you today?”

You receive an exasperated sigh in response, but you can hear the grin behind it. “What if it wasn’t me on the other end, hm?”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, you give your phone a moment to connect to the Bluetooth system before firing back, “No one else calls me, old man.”

“This old man can easily revoke the allowance he just gave you.” He speaks in a low murmur, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s making this illicit call from his office.

“Wow,” you laugh warmly, “you just went from Daddy to Dad in record time.”

“Please, for both of our sakes, don’t ever say that again.” Another laugh punches out of you and you relent, “Deal.” Then, after a beat, “Are you still coming over tonight?”

He sighs again, this time with true remorse. “No, angel, I’m sorry. We just got a case out in LA.”

“Alright, go save the world, Mister Unit Chief,” you tease. “I’ll do the hard work of keeping you entertained while you’re gone.”

His voice drops even lower, now tinged with a gruffness that sends a bolt of heat through your body. “Thank you, Princess. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I know you will,” you purr, knowing that the longer wait will make your reunion all the more satisfying. “Be safe.”

“Always.” You go to hang up the phone but pause when you hear him take a breath. “Princess?”

“Hm?”

“Get something purple this time.”

_____

Several hours and a stupid amount of money to be spent in one shopping spree later, you trundle up the stairs to your second floor apartment, arms laden with shopping bags. You let yourself in before closing and locking the door behind you, then head down the hallway to drop your purchases off in your bedroom. After a luxurious bath to wash the grime of the week away, you pull on one of Aaron’s t-shirts from your steadily growing collection and are preparing to settle on the couch to peruse takeout options when a knock sounds at the door. As if on cue, your phone lights up on the nightstand with a text.

Dinner’s on me, angel. Sorry I’m not there to enjoy it with you.

A pleasant warmth settles in your bones at Aaron’s thoughtfulness, and you open the door to find a delivery from your favorite Vietnamese restaurant and a bottle of Moscato to accompany it. After getting comfortable with your dinner on the couch, you hunt through your rented movies for the Fifty Shades trilogy and press play before typing out a response.

Keep spoiling me like this and I won’t know how to act

You’re my Princess- You deserve to be spoiled.

A giggle bubbles out of you and you resist the urge to kick your feet like a teenager with a raging crush. Instead, you opt for a much more dignified reply.

Thank you Daddy 🥰

With twenty minutes remaining in the sequel, feeling emboldened by several glasses of wine and the content playing before you, you send another text to Aaron.

I can’t wait to show you what I spent all your hard earned money on today 😘

He has yet to answer by the time the credits are rolling and you recall that, much to your dismay, he’s three hours behind you and probably still at the local precinct. Deciding that you’ll read to pass the time, you finish off your wine and put your leftovers in the fridge before heading to your bedroom. You open up a video call on your laptop and send an invitation to join to Aaron, then settle back against your pillow with your latest novel.

A few chapters in, you recognize that trying to distract yourself is a feeble affair when your eyes gloss over the same paragraph several times in a row. Giving up on the book, you place it on your nightstand and let your hands wander your body just as Aaron’s would. Wearing his shirt has you cocooned in his distinct smell, and you can’t help but close your eyes and imagine he’s there with you, touching you, teasing you. Desperately wishing it was his large hands caressing your curves instead of your own, you gently cup your breasts and roll your nipples between your fingers, hips arching upward of their own accord in search of some friction. You ignore the budding heat between your thighs, continuing to play with your nipples and enjoying the way the soft fabric of Aaron’s shirt heightens every sensation. Before long, soft pants are falling past your lips and your panties are soaked with your arousal.

One hand comes down to grip the edge of Aaron’s shirt as the other dips beneath the band of your underwear. You take it slow, drawing languid circles around your core, and you can practically hear the low rumble of his voice against the shell of your ear, telling you that You haven’t earned it yet. Sliding your middle finger between your folds, you try to imagine it’s Aaron’s thick cock, right where you want it but not giving in. He loves to watch you fall apart before he’s even inside you, letting your slick gather along his cock, the tip nudging against your clit now and then. The very thought has a low whine building in your throat, and you brush the pad of your finger over your sensitive button to draw out the fantasy.

Unable and unwilling to deny yourself any longer, you hook your thumbs into your panties and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off across the room. Your middle finger circles your nub once more, and then you ease two fingers into your core until your knuckles stop you from pressing any further. You whimper at the sensation, pleased with the fullness but frustrated it’s just not right, aching for Aaron to work his magic on your body. Letting out a determined huff, you clamp down on your bottom lip and begin working your fingers in and out of your pussy in earnest, your other hand coming down to collect your slick and spread it over your nub. You dig your heels into the mattress, raising your hips to try and mimic the angle of Aaron fucking into you, steadily increasing the speed of your fingers as pathetic little mewls fall past your parted lips. Your whines turn into full blown moans, and your cries are rising in pitch when you realize you’re no longer alone.

“Got tired of waiting for me, huh, Princess?”

Putting a pause on your self-care, you blink the haze of arousal out of your bleary eyes and find Aaron seated at a desk, presumably in his hotel room. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the top two buttons of his crisp white button down undone and showing off a tantalizing sliver of chest. His mouth is set in a hard line in an attempt at disapproval, but even through the slightly grainy image you can spot the gleam in his smoldering eyes.

Using your foot to nudge the laptop between your legs, you give Aaron a clear view of your fingers resuming their path of easing in and out of your soaking wet pussy. You simper, “Just getting warmed up for you, Daddy.”

“What a good girl,” he breathes out, gaze locked on your core. “Turn towards me, let me see all of you.”

You obediently change positions, scooting your laptop back so he can see a majority of your body, and his breath hitches when he spots the shirt you have on. “Is that mine?”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes fluttering shut as your middle finger circles your clit, and nod. “I hope you don’t- fuck- mind. Smells like you.”

“Whatever makes my little girl happy,” he says, and you nearly purr at the name. When you open your eyes again, you pout at the sight of him still in the same position. He picks up on your disappointment immediately and asks, “What is it?”

“Can you-” Your cheeks grow warm with a sudden shyness and you duck your head before softly requesting, “Wanna see you, Daddy.”

He raises one eyebrow at you, arms crossed, fixing you with that look. “Daddy’s right here for you to see. Use your words and tell me what you really want.”

A shudder races down your spine at his commanding tone coupled with your thumb brushing over your clit, and you suddenly find your voice. “What I really want is your fingers in my mouth and your fat cock in my pussy but-” A wanton moan interrupts your thought as your fingers curl against the perfect spot. “Right now I’d settle for just seeing your cock.”

“Was that so hard?”

You smirk at him as he rises from the desk and moves to the bed, settling in a reflection of your position with the laptop beside him. “Not as hard as you are right now.”

“Bold of you to assume, little one.” He laughs at how quickly you’ve adopted your brazen attitude, the sound rich and warm as it fills every corner of your bedroom.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you challenge, slowly drawing your fingers out of your pussy.

You hear him unzip his work slacks, the familiar sound sending yet another bolt of heat to your core, before he growls out, “I can’t.”

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, utterly mesmerized by the sight before you. Aaron is lazily fisting his rock hard cock, pausing to swipe his thumb over the head and gather the precum there before gliding his hand down to the base and gently squeezing until the vein on the underside is pulsing and your mouth is watering. Your body responds instinctively, walls clenching around nothing and desperate to be filled, your clit throbbing with need. Gathering the fresh wave of arousal dripping down your thighs, you press your fingers back into your hole and let out a frustrated cry. “It’s not enough.”

“Look at me,” Aaron says, his voice gentle but commanding, always in tune with what you need. You lift your gaze to meet his on the screen and he continues, “You’re not going to bed until we get you to cum, do you understand?”

You nod, and he praises you with a small smile. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Princess,” he begins, your eyes tracking his every movement as he slowly works his hand over his length. “You’re going to put three fingers in your mouth- go ahead, do it now,” he encourages, waiting for you to place your index, middle, and ring fingers in your mouth before continuing, “and get them nice and wet for me. Close your eyes and imagine they’re mine. Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

You close your eyes and mumble an affirmative around your fingers while your head drops into a nod, the taste of your own arousal bursting over your tongue as you swirl it around the digits. “Such a good girl,” Aaron coos, and you once again clench around nothing at the pride woven through his words. “You just love having my fingers in your mouth, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you cry, the sound muffled by your digits as drool slips out between the corner where your lips meet.

“Now take your fingers out of your mouth and let me see those beautiful eyes.” You do as he says, eager to please, and Aaron lets out a ragged, “Fuck,” at the sight of your lust-blown pupils framed by delicate lashes. “Slide your fingers into that pretty little pussy all the way, then hold still for me. Just like when I’m fucking you, yeah, Princess?”

Your mouth drops open and you take a shuddering breath at the stretch. “Now what?”

“You’re going to watch me and do exactly what I do. Your fingers, my cock. Got it?” A slow grin spreads across your face and you nod eagerly, understanding his premise. He slides his fist up the length of his cock and you ease your fingers out of your pussy, perfectly matching his unhurried pace. “Good girl,” Aaron breathes out, “just like that.”

He slowly builds up to a steady rhythm, the sound of his fist repeatedly meeting his pelvis joining with your fingers pulsing in and out of your sopping cunt to form a depraved symphony. You watch your lover on the other side of the country, transfixed by the way his typical stoicism is dissolving before you into guttural moans and hedonistic cries of your name. He bites down on his lip, determined to not break eye contact with you as you both fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut from pure pleasure. Aaron tugs his tie off and tosses it away, then hurriedly unbuttons his shirt, all the while working his fist over his length. Even in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his skin, and saliva pools in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue over every delicious inch of him when he returns home. You tell him as much, in vivid detail, and he releases a low groan that reverberates throughout your room.

“I’m so close, Daddy,” you whine, and you see his pace beginning to falter as well.

“I know you are, Princess. Doing so well for me,” he pants, now squeezing the base of his cock on every downstroke. With Aaron, you always come first- in every sense of the word. “I need you to cum for me. Need you to clench that pretty pussy around my cock so I can fill you up. That’s what you want, isn’t it, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” you cry out, feeling your walls clamp down around your fingers in response to his words. “Gonna be a good girl for you, Daddy,” you babble, “always wanna be your good girl.” Your entire body tenses and your breath stutters in your throat just before the coil deep in your belly snaps and a desperate cry of Aaron’s name bounces off the walls of your bedroom. His moans grow louder and longer, his cock feverishly thrusting up into his hand until he finally gives in to his orgasm, thick ropes of cum coating his hand and stomach.

Lying back in bed to give yourself a few beats to calm your erratic breathing, you quip, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so jealous of a hand before.”

You hear Aaron’s warm laugh from a distance and then he’s filling your screen once more, now clean and fully sans clothing. “Trust me when I say the feeling is mutual.”

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you smile at the handsome man before you. “You know what my next purchase is gonna be?”

“Enlighten me.”

“A mold of your cock so I’m never without you.”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs immediately. “Then you won’t need me anymore.”

“Of course I’ll still need you! Who else is going to fund my lavish lifestyle?”

He grunts, unenthused, the hint of a smile making his lips twitch. “Brat.”

You scrunch your nose in delight and grin at him. “Thank you for my little shopping spree today. And for tonight, of course.”

“My pleasure, angel,” he answers warmly. “Same time tomorrow, if our case continues on this trajectory.”

With a playful laugh, you tease, “You wish.”

He grows serious, mouth setting in a hard line. “I’m sorry, Princess, you mistook that for a question- it wasn’t.”

“Yes, sir, Mister Unit Chief,” you respond through a nervous giggle with a mock salute.

“That’s my girl,” he breaks into a soft smile once more. “Get yourself cleaned up, drink some water, and get a good night’s rest, okay?”

You nod obediently and blow him a kiss. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.” You go to exit the call, then stop when he calls your name, raising an eyebrow in question. “Save what you bought until I get home. I want to see you in my shirt again tomorrow.”

_____

Hotch taglist: @gothwifehotchner

[sichore]

I've been rattling around my own version of pre/earlyklok so here's what I've got so far:

Pickles has been chewed up and spat out by the industry after SnB, in ruin after faulty contracts made when he was too young to know what he was getting into. He's also extremely burned by not getting the residuals that he should have when he fucking made SnB what it was, and he's a struggling addict.

I don't know yet what all Magnus' deal is, but he never even made it that far and time is not on his side as far as the industry is concerned. So you've got a has-been and a would-be rock star meeting through the guy who would be Dethklok's first manager who think that hey, they could get something going here.

So you've got two guitarists, and maybe at some local joint, they hear a cover band, and holy shit this kid's got pipes. They approach Nathan and everyone gets drinks and he shares that he's always wanted a band (and deep down he knows that he has to have it), so fuck it, they're gonna make a band. And William's there too, I guess, because he's Nathan's buddy somehow, and they don't wanna waste energy on finding a bassist.

So they've got the start of a good thing but it's not quite there yet. None of the drummers they try have the right sound so finally Pickles is just like "fuck it, I'll do it" because he's had to do Sammy's parts so many times already, and... oh, hey, why the fuck is he bothering with the guitar again? This is where he belongs.

So now they gotta find another guitarist, and finding Skwisgaar is akin to finding a temple to a forgotten god. It's a crime that someone so talented should be regulated to rhythm guitar, but Pickles' last bit of money is fueling this, and Magnus has to have his way, so that's just how it goes.

And turns out Magnus' manager buddy who manages Skwisgaar seems a hell of a lot more competent than their current guy, so they got a new manager now. And it's rough, but it works. For a while.

Pickles runs himself ragged after Magnus is kicked out because it's all on him, this is his last shot and they've gotta make this work. And they give this scrawny kid from Norway a chance and he has Skwisgaar's approval, and then... everything starts to fall together.

Their growing fans become fanatic. People flock to them for work that borders on servitude, and money starts flowing in, and maybe now Pickles can relax a bit. Sure, the drugs may still kill him, but things are better now. He doesn't have to fight and scrape for what's rightfully his. He actually owns Dethklok this time along with the others, and life is... as good as it's gonna get.

And during all this, Nathan grows more confident in seeing his dream come true. No one knows when the shift happens, but he stops playing mediator and starts demanding things go this way and that way. Because it's his band.

And Pickles just lets him take over because sure, it's actually their band, but he's tired, man. He's just so tired of having to do things himself.

The rise of Dethklok happens over the span of 10-12 years, anywhere from 1994 to 2006. Snakes 'N' Barrels only lasted about 4-5 years and Pickles spent a handful of years remaking himself between gigs. Nathan and Murderface graduated high school in the late 80s/early 90s, and Toki is in his late 20s by the time the show starts.

[atlafan]

based off this blurb...

Why would someone ever want to be a lawyer? It’s three extra years of school, a ton of hard work and memorization, interning for no pay, and dealing with the politics of actually working at a firm. Growing up, there was a lot of pressure put on Blake to become something important. By important, her father meant someone of status in society. Apparently, doctors and lawyers are the only important people out there. Blake is squeamish, so becoming a doctor was not an option. So, her father pushed her into the lawyer  track.

In high school, Blake made sure to take advanced psychology, U.S. history, government, and public speaking courses. For undergrad, she went to Duke. She knew she would end up going to a law school in New England, so she wanted to get out and away for a bit. Besides that, Duke’s pre-law program is one of the best in the country. Blake couldn’t decide what law she wanted to practice, all she knew was that she couldn’t major in criminal justice. Her father told her to stay away from criminal law because, “there’s no money in it. If you’re going to break your back and work 80-hour weeks, at least make some money”.

So, she majored in business with a minor in pre-law. Most corporate high-paying firms deal with business and entertainment. Blake made sure to study public relations and media studies as well. Her father was pleased with her decisions. He was even more pleased when Blake was accepted into Harvard Law School. Three years of non-stop studying and hard work got her to be in the top ten of her graduating cohort. None of that really meant anything, though. Just because she was good at taking notes and applying her studies to cases didn’t mean she would excel at a firm. It didn’t mean she would excel in a boardroom. It didn’t mean shit.

Blake interned at a firm for two years while still in law school. That’s where she first met Harry. He was a junior associate at the time. He was one of the few associates that didn’t treat her like a secretary. It’s a man’s world. She knew that, of course, but it’s still annoying to live through it day after day. Harry never let his eyes wander, he never made lewd comments, and he certainly never crossed any lines that would warrant HR’s involvement. Harry had also gone to Harvard Law, so he was a great person to rant to about certain professors. Blake never minded working late if she was assigned to help Harry.

And of course she developed a crush on him, it would have been impossible not to. He’s funny and sweet and smart. He’s the total package. But Blake couldn’t take it further than friendship. There was a multitude of reasons why. She needed to stay focused. She didn’t have time for a relationship. Getting involved with an associate when you’re just an intern is a major no-no. And the biggest reason was that Harry was in a committed relationship. He was twenty-eight and engaged. He and his fiancé hadn’t set a date yet. He wanted to wait until he was bumped up to senior associate.

Blake never got the chance to find out when that wedding date was. When she entered her second year of interning, Harry had accepted a position at another law firm. He’d be a senior associate on the fast track to becoming a non-equity partner. He couldn’t pass that up. Blake thought of him often, but she didn’t think it would be appropriate for her to contact him just to see how he was. However, she did find it appropriate to contact him three months before her law school graduation when she was applying for firms and she saw that he had, in fact, become a non-equity partner at a firm she really wanted to work for. She had his personal email, so why not?

Harry remembered Blake…just barely. But he recognized her name and was happy to see that she had made it through law school. He told her about an upcoming networking opportunity the firm would be having – some sort of “Spring Mixer”. Just about everyone from the firm would be there, including human resources, and it was open to prospective associates. She’d just have to pay a small fee for a ticket. Harry told her he’d take care of that because he knows how broke law students are. He told her to put the money towards a nice outfit, and business cards with her contact information on them.

Blake was nervous for the event. She knew how to network, but the event itself was at a really exclusive, swanky club. She had to spend a lot of money on a proper cocktail dress. Her father insisted on her buying a pair of red bottoms as well. She thought it was excessive, but she also knows that first impressions are everything. Harry gave her his contact information so he could meet her at the entrance. She was relieved when she saw him. They shook hands, and he guided her inside. He pointed out various people she would want to talk to if she wanted one of the open junior associate positions.

“Just so you know, I think you’ll at least get an interview.” He told her after handing her a seltzer with lime. He had mentioned it’s best to make it look like you’re drinking at these events. “Diversity, equity, and inclusion are hot buzzwords right now. You’re a woman and you’re Jewish, so you’re the perfect diverse candidate.”

“I’m a white woman, that’s not exactly diverse.” She muttered.

“No, but a lot of these old shits will think so. They’ll think they’ve done their part to meet their quota. It sucks, and I’m not a fan of it, but it’s something you’ll want to play up right now to help yourself stand out.”

Blake understood what Harry was saying. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. She worked her way around the room, speaking with various equity partners and management partners, giving out her business cards and making herself look good. She dropped Harry’s name a few times, which many people smiled at. Harry even told her she could use him as a reference for when she applied. She didn’t take that lightly. She didn’t take any of the night lightly.

When she got home that night, she immediately took out her blank cards, and wrote Harry a thank you. She wrote a number of thank you cards, but she made Harry’s much more personalized. These little things go a long way.

She applied to various law firms, but the only one she wanted to hear back from was Langley, West, Monroe, and Associates. That’s where Harry worked. And she wanted to work in their entertainment law division. It’s what she was most passionate about, but she also mentioned that she has expertise with business law as well.

Two weeks before graduating from Harvard Law, Blake got the call she had been waiting for. An interview. The interview led to a second interview, the second interview led to an offer, that offer led to negotiations, and the negotiations led to an acceptance of that offer.

Her father couldn’t have been more proud.

Blake and Harry work in the same division, often working on some of the same larger projects. Harry works one on one with quite a few sports agents. He helps the agents and the players go over their contracts. It’s simple stuff. He also does a lot of work with copyright and fair use laws, helping artists get their money, those sort of things. Blake usually helps with those. She loves getting to combine business and entertainment law. And thanks to all of her study skills over the years, her brain is like a search engine. She can whip out cases left and right to help her clients. The junior and senior associates usually all hang out together, some even live together. The only times Harry and Blake are at the same social gatherings is if there’s an event for the entire firm, or there’s business to be done. And since there’s always business to be done, neither of them have the time to talk about things in their personal lives when they’re working together. No, Blake saves those chats for her fellow associates over drinks and dinner. She’s made some good friends at the firm. She’s grateful.

{READ WHEN YOU'RE READY ON PATREON NOW}

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

Any more thoughts to share on a carmen sandiego and ieytd fusion?

enter my beautiful mind palace with me

vile and zoraxis have heard about each other, but neither of them know everything abt one another. pre the ending to ieytd2, all vile knows is that zoraxis has a facade, but not how vicious and evil its underbelly is. zor, meanwhile, knows that vile pull heists and schemes, but don't care much about them considering they stay out of each others way

post-ieytd2, i can see zoraxis with their tail tucked between their legs, willing to ally themselves with zor in order to have more reach after their facade gets publicly exposed. all they really share is resources, though. beyond that, the two probably wouldn't have much to do with each other

as aforementioned, cleo would absolutely know who fabby is, and would be chomping at the fucking bit to get a chance to talk with her.

i don't know whether or not solaris would still be with zoraxis at the time, but i think vile would be obsessed with her potential. what the fuck do you mean this engineer was the backbone of the death engine project??? what do you mean?? that's fucking crazy.

i think solaris would be unused to this much attention but very flattered. its honestly about time someone appreciates her work for what it is

i think carmen understands that there's something amiss with zoraxis, but keeps vile her top priority, so she doesn't often interject with their plots

also, zoraxis doesn't do many cultural heists, so more often than not it doesn't even come up on her radar

the one time she crossed paths with them, funnily enough, was when she mistook some of their activity for a vile scheme

she caught some zoraxis operatives on the tail end of stealing some nice, but relatively culturally benign spanish artwork (the stuff you can find in zor's madrid headquarters). she never managed to track down where they went and if she's honest with herself she's still kind of bitter about it

i think phoenix and carmen would actually get along pretty well and probably be able to work well together. however, both of them are good at a very niche set of things, and would be completely out of their element fighting the other's freaks of the week

phoenix is thoroughly surprised the first time they fight a vile operative and realize how young they are. normally they're willing to 'stoop' to lethal combat but they are not killing these?? children?? no absolutely not.

sometimes they sneak agency calling cards into their pockets after knocking them unconscious... just in case they need someone to help them drop off the map, like anna did (they're not going to recruit those children for the agency. that would be just as irresponsible, if not worse)

carmen, meanwhile, is unprepared to deal with operatives who are so willing to murder first and ask questions second. sure, vile lackeys can be hostile, but most of them were her graduating class so there was time for a little banter in between throwing wild punches. none of them had fucking guns, you know??

phoenix is not at all surprised by this considering carmen has essentially trained herself by fighting c-lister villain high schoolers ("college graduates") same difference.

zach and ivy are fine but DON'T let phoenix know about player i think they'll have a hernia

on a more positive note, though, it is nice to be able to talk to someone fluent in sign languages (and/or whatever other language you think phoenix would be fluent in). i think that would be a very pleasant surprise for them

more often than not when phoenix and carmen cross paths, phoenix doesn't let the agency know about it. mainly because carmen is a vigilante and as such probably wouldn't be seen in a great light by the agency anyways. and apparently she already has an agency tracking her down?? so they're not going to add to that that sounds like a lot

i also think acme would have a very bad opinion on the agency due to how many agents they wind up getting killed but this isn't abt them this is abt the cool guys

and this isn't really a headcanon this is just me having fun, but literally just yesterday i was looking and realized that there's a cultural artifact in geneva that would make for a good mcguffin for a carmen episode: the world's first swiss wristwatch, commissioned for the countess of hungary in 1868, and held on display in geneva's watchmaker museum. occasionally confused for the first ever wristwatch, (which was actually made in france in 1810), but both are steeped in an equal amount of culture and we also have no physical evidence of the first ever wristwatch so this is the next best thing and its in geneva

anyways all this to say i got a little silly about it last night. my whimsy. the timeless timepiece caper or whatever. swag.

ft mothbeasts jumpscare. ragh

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I plan to go back to school next fall, so I have a little ovet fourteen months to master all seven subjects. I won't need two full months for algebra 1; cracking open the first chapter, it's all stuff like "here's what a plus sign means" and "variables look like letters, but they really stand for numbers!"

It won't hurt to brush up on factorization, but I think I can bang this one out in a week or two. All the better, because calculus kicked my ass in high school and it's not gonna be any easier now that I'm my own teacher. I passed it once (by the skin of my teeth), but have forgotten almost everything about it in the last decade, so I'll need the extra time to really get it down pat. I have to be able to derive and integrate in my sleep if I'm to stand half a chance at earning an astrophysics major. Astronomy would be slightly easier, but not by much, so I may as well go for gusto. The very first class astrophysics requires is calc 2, so I can't enroll until I'm 100% sure I know calc 1 forwards and backwards. Physics too, but physics and calc feel like two sides of the same coin, so I'll try to work on them at the same time (again, I managed to pull it off once, I'm sure I can do it again).

Chances are these Dummies books will be insufficient for me to grok all this math in one year, so I'll end up buying more textbooks, workbooks, study guides, SAT and AP prep, etc. I had plenty of cram sessions in my first go around at college, but nothing quite like this. This will be a herculean undertaking compared to the easy-A humanities program I coasted through originally. I had no motivation back then, no drive, no goal for "the real world" upon graduating. I went to college because it was expected of me, and I was told I needed it to get a good job. What I wasn't told is that not all majors are created equal; there's not a lot you can do with an English degree besides, well, teaching English. I just hope 14 months is enough time, because I would really prefer not to take another year off; 2024 is the ten year anniversary of when I started college the first time, so it would mean so much more to me if I started again that August rather than put it off until 2025.

I guess it doesn't matter in the end. If I'm not ready, I'm not ready. I can't force myself to start an extremely advanced program before I've mastered the pre-reqs. If I need to start later, so be it. As long as I'm consistently working towards my goal, it shouldn't matter how long it takes.

[melkyt]

Modern AU

Intern!Luffy, who works at the local college training under Ace before he can graduate with an EMT degree, trying to go into the field of fire rescue. So during the day he goes to class and at night, he gets those extra credits by being on call for any emergency.

He barely gets any sleep and is known as an absolutely feral cryptid on campus while also being kind cute. He is usually first on scene if there is a microwave mishap with some cup noodles.

Law is a pre-med student going for as many degrees as he can at once. He always runs around campus as though he is running out of time, and most people know to stay the fck out of his way. The only ones who ever hang out with him are Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, and they do not go to the same college, either having a job or going to trade school. So they rarely hang out. Law will never admit it, but between all his studying in his room, he is lonely.

The only other person he has in his life is Cora. Officially, he is Law's foster uncle. unofficially, Cora has always been there for Law for any big events in his life. They are quite close, and Cora stops by any chance he gets to make sure Law is eating right. Since Cora doesn't have a job, due to his family name and not being able to get one due to his general lack of balance.

(I headcanon that Cora does have some sort of disability that causes vertigo and/or disrupts balance.)

Law at the end of a semester does really well on an exam, and Cora comes by to celebrate, despite Law's protests.

One thing leads to another, and a fire breaks out in Law's dorm. He gets Cora and himself out safely but runs in to get something that is important enough for him to risk his life. He gets trapped in the building, with no way to get out.

Luffy gets there fairly quickly with Ace, in time to stop Cora from going after Law.

Ace stays to do crowd control while Luffy scrambles up into the building to get to the control room so he can activate the secondary sprinkler system as the first ones did not seem to activate for one reason or another.

He manages to do it, and slowly, the fire is extinguished. Luffy then runs through the building until he finds Law, unconcious from inhaling too much smoke, clutching a picture that has his family on it. The only thing left of them.

Luffy carries Law out of the smoldering dorm rooms and lets Ace do all the vital checks, as he is not certified just yet. He could do it if need be if he wanted to risk his internship. If Ace wasn't there, he wouldn't hesitate.

While that's going on, Luffy talks to Cora, just chatting and taking thank you's.

Cora lets slip that Law doesn't have any friends, and that's why he came by to celebrate, but maybe he is being too much of a bother to Law.

Monkey *Every Needs Friends* Luffy is not about to let that slide.

Few days after the fire, Law is released from the hospital. Luffy, waiting for this moment, shows up at Law's door with food, walking in to Law's new dorm eoom, not yet decorated, as if he owns the place.

Law is too tired and hungry to kick him out. The food basket does have all of Law's favorites courtesy of Cora, who is all for the 'get Law to make friends' scheme.

Luffy does this every day or night if Law isn't around because of classes. He introduces Traffy to all of his friends and slowly gets him out of the nice safe shell Law has built.

Then it just happens, Law only remembers having a conversation about dating, but like Luffy barged in and said they were friends, one day that changed to boyfriends. Law found that he didn't mind.

He often thinks how glad he is that the fire happened and that he met Luffy, even years later when they graduate, move in together and work at the same hospital.

Law never considered himself a lucky man, but that night proved him wrong, as it let him find a place he could belong.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 22.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 5,057

warnings/includes (!) IT’S TIME! GLOB IS COMING!!!! 

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

note; The Astronaut is 1000% playing while they have their little slow dance during the party 🤧 Also, for visuals: here is the inspo for the photoshoot outfit and here’s inspo for the tux! 

↪︎ series index

SEASON THREE ⇤ previous | next ⇥

The next few weeks flew by. 

It took a while for you to stop feeling so shaken up by the accident, and even now, you still felt slightly nervous being inside a car. You knew you couldn’t let the irrational fear consume you, especially with your life soon to take on a new importance, so you tried hard to work past it, talking it through with your therapist during the online sessions you were still having. The collision had purely been an accident, a split-second mistake made by the other driver, a lapse in his judgment. You couldn’t give it the chance to control you. You were stronger than that. Plus, you had so many better things to concentrate on. Seokjin, your friends, your bettering relationship with your family. Your daughter. 

At first, being on maternity leave was jarring. You’d worked fulltime ever since you’d graduated university, so having countless days and days to yourself took some getting used to. Seokjin joked that you needed to make the most of it, because once Sarang got here you both wouldn’t know peace again. It was a strange thought, but not disagreeable. She might have been the surprise you’d never known you wanted, but you’d been practically ready and eager from the start. Seokjin, too. 

You busied yourself with some more decorating of the house at first. Minor decorating. You couldn’t do much, but dotting a few art pieces or photos around, placing a vase on an end table, and laying out a few rugs here and there didn’t use much energy. Until it did. It felt like you were getting heavier and heavier by the day, the weight of Glob weighing you down and warping your axis of balance. You tried your best to keep active, going into the centre of the city a couple of times, and when you couldn’t manage that – not that you managed it well pre-pregnancy – you settled on small walks around your new neighbourhood. Seokjin joined you in the evenings sometimes, but mostly on the weekend. He was still working himself silly ready for his paternity leave, which meant that you were both in bed by 9pm most nights. 

In fact, as well as going to bed early, you liked a nap in the middle of the day too, falling asleep on the couch, where you spent most of the day watching boxset upon boxset. You’d already completed a rewatch of one of your favourite shows, finding it even funnier than the first time a couple of years ago. Now, you were starting something new. A sitcom. You found laughing was the way to go in these trying times, but it also weakened your bladder even more. You’d also started playing BT21 – your bump was a great rest for the handheld console. You’d never been into gaming, but you were becoming mildly addicted slash emotionally unstable, crying at how cute all the animal characters were. 

On the weekends, you and Seokjin bulk cooked meals to freeze. What started off as a fun domesticated activity soon turned into a bind. The good news was that you now had enough food to last at least three months and had stocked up on enough dried goods to avoid starving during a zombie apocalypse. But hopefully that didn’t happen now that you were so close to giving birth. 

The nursery was complete, the beautiful crib the main feature. You kept finding any old excuse to step inside and gaze around – not that you needed an excuse. You spent quite a few hours organising and reorganising Sarang’s chest of drawers, folding and refolding all her little onesies and cute outfits. You made sure to dust and wipe down surfaces often, wanting everything to be squeaky clean for her arrival. Your hospital bag had long been packed, on countdown inside your bedroom. Before long, there wasn’t very long to wait at all! 

One of the worst things to deal with, now that you were in such a late stage of pregnancy, were the nights. Maybe that’s why you were napping so much in the day. No position was comfortable – and positions were limited in the first place. Your bump had reached its limits, you couldn’t go any bigger you were certain. You tried to help yourself by wedging pillows under your bump and between your legs to ease the pressure. It worked to a certain extent, but then leg cramps would set in and you had to move around, trying to get comfy all over again. Then you needed to pee, so it was back and forth to the bathroom. Then Sarang decided she wanted to wiggle. 

It was no wonder you were a little irritable these days, all things considered. Tonight, you and Seokjin had gone to bed not talking to one another after you’d snapped at him over making dinner. He’d come home later than usual to find you in the kitchen, instantly ordering you out. When you’d refused, the exasperated look on his face made you see red. You didn’t expect him to come home after a long day of work and start dinner immediately. You were pregnant, not decrepit, and making a simple stir fry wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility. 

You’d made the stupid stir fry in the end, and then the both of you had eaten in stony silence across from one another. You rarely argued, but you were both fans of the silent treatment when you did. Both stubborn too, it was impossible to know who would break first. As it were, Seokjin was the one to fold tonight. 

“____, what’s wrong?” he asked into the darkness, voice thick with sleep but prickled with concern. 

It wasn’t a surprise that you’d managed to wake him up. You’d already been to the bathroom twice, readjusted your pillows five times, and thrown your head back in frustration maybe ten. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled. Which was a lie. As well as being horrifically uncomfortable, you felt guilty for earlier, which was only marginally overshadowing your annoyance over Seokjin being able to sleep soundly while you tossed and turned. 

Seokjin shifted onto his side, one hand reaching for you and grazing your hip. “Can’t get to sleep?” 

“No.” Mortified, the word sobbed from you, and just like that you were crying. 

“Hey,” he said softly, gathering you in his arms as best he could. You were still uncomfortable but feeling him hold you made it better. “You’re okay.” He rubbed your back soothingly. 

“I’m being stupid,” you sniffed into his chest, getting his pyjama shirt wet. 

Moving your hair off your forehead, he kissed a spot he could reach. “You’re not. You’re tired and uncomfortable.” His palm felt really good stroking between your shoulder blades. “Close your eyes and think of something relaxing.”  

“All I have to think about is the impending horrors of childbirth.” 

Seokjin didn’t reply, probably realising there was nothing he could say to that. He’d seen the videos too. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you added.

“I’m sorry too,” he sighed softly. “I had a stressful day.” You hated that he was working so hard while simultaneously knowing you would be beyond happy and grateful once your daughter was born. You were ready to tag team Sarang’s first month in this world. 

“If you can’t sleep, neither will I,” Seokjin announced a few moments later. 

“Now you’re the one being stupid.” 

He barked a laugh, loud in the middle of the night. Then, fondly, “I love you.” 

You smiled against him. You would never get sick of hearing that. It was just three small words, but you knew Seokjin meant them deeply every time. And so did you. “I love you, too.”

A couple of weeks ago, Seokjin got the front page on one of the most well-known business magazines. You didn’t know who had been more excited, you or everyone else who adored him. Definitely not him anyway. Seokjin handled it with his usual Seokjin modesty, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. You had a copy on your nightstand and another on the coffee table in the best living room. Yeonja even bought a copy for her coffee table, and Mari too! She messaged you a picture on the day it came out. Seokjin had a lot of fans. It was no wonder when you saw his photoshoot. Fashionable in his beige turtleneck and grey suit, he looked objectively handsome. There was no issue of being biased, your man seriously was that good looking! And wonderful. You’d read the part where they mentioned you and Sarang (not by name) in his interview at least a dozen times, and it never failed to put a massive grin on your face (and shed a tear or two.) Plus, reading the interviewer praise him made you inexplicably happy. 

Having taken up most of his twenties and half of his thirties, Alpaca Gaming Studios has been his life, but it’s time to concentrate on more personal matters. After falling in love earlier this year, there’s a baby on the way, and Seokjin is ready to gradually take a step back from work. “She’s the most amazing person I know,” he says about his partner, sounding smitten. “I want to spend as much time with my family as possible. I can’t wait to become a father.” He’s unable to fight the grin on his face. 

Staunchly private, he won’t reveal much about his relationship, but his beaming face is proof of how in love he is. His company still means the world to him, but he is very aware that it could shine just as hard without him – his words, not mine! I am inclined to disagree. AGS has obviously become what it is because of the man sat in front of me. Politely spoken and painfully modest, it seems almost impossible that he is CEO of one of the world’s most popular video game companies. Not to mention, Kim is quite unnervingly handsome. It’s practically unfair. He laughs when I tell him this, turning red. 

“Nothing like that,” he’s quick to correct, when I ask him if he plans on stepping down. Then jokes, “I’ll give everyone I know a heart attack if they read this. I can’t see myself stepping down any time soon.”  

It’s another one of his charms. To be serious and subsequently dilute it with a joke. Not everyone could pull it off, and Seokjin does so numerous times during this interview. His charisma is something else! 

“We’re a team at AGS, a family” he continues, “and they are way more talented than I could ever be.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly, somehow making it attractive. “I have no doubt that if I ever did decide to retire, they’d do just fine without me. There’s my second in command, after all.” 

He’s mentioned his secretary slash best friend Jung Hoseok numerous times throughout this interview and insists he wouldn’t be here now without him. In fact, he wouldn’t be here now without a number of people. It’s obvious that he genuinely believes that. There is nothing false about Kim Seokjin. His gratitude and humility are two more admirable qualities that make this man hard to judge or criticise. 

The mention of Seokjin stepping down from CEO one day had shocked you at first. Making plans for his month-long paternity leave was one thing, but to talk about gradually distancing himself from his role was something he’d never even mentioned. He was quick to reassure you that he wasn’t seriously thinking any of that, his mouth just had a habit of running away from him during nerve-wracking situations like a global magazine interview. It was true that he wanted to take more time for you and Sarang, not work such long hours, and to have stress-free weekends, but he wasn’t ready to leave everything he still loved so much. At least not right now. Who knows what the future holds, he told you. Maybe five years from now we’ll have Glob No.2 and I won’t want to step into the office ever again.

You liked thinking of the future these days. Of your future with him and Sarang…and Glob No.2. (But no No.3 like he’d also suggested!) Before the future never used to cross your mind, but you had so many new things to look forward to now. Your relationship, your baby, Yuna and Jimin’s wedding! Life was exciting and constantly changing, filled with things that had never crossed your mind this time last year. It was a great feeling, even when you struggled to stand on your feet for more than ten minutes right now…

As Seokjin’s 35th birthday was going to be overshadowed by Sarang’s arrival into this world, his parents insisted on celebrating early. It was a multitude of celebrations to tell the truth: Jin’s birthday, his interview, Sarang’s imminent arrival, the last hoorah before said arrival. 

Seokjin knew about it of course, he didn’t very much like surprises, and Mikyung had kept you updated every step of the way because you were too exhausted to help organise a thing. In fact, you were probably too exhausted to even attend the party. You were 39 weeks pregnant and hadn’t done much movement in over a week. You moved from the bedroom to the sofa, to the kitchen, to the sofa, to the bedroom again at the end of the day. It wasn’t a very fun existence, so with cutthroat determination, you were attending your man’s birthday party. Even if you sat down for most of the night and begged to go home by 8pm. 

Yuna did your hair and make-up, and even your nails. If the last few weeks of pregnancy had taught you anything, it was that you could get used to the kind of life where people did everything for you. You were due for a harsh reality check in ten days’ time, because your role was going to be well and truly reversed. You’d folded yourself into a grey velvet wrap dress, complete with chunky socks, before sliding your swollen feet into a trusty pair of Crocs – black this time. Fashion was the last thing on your mind at the moment, which was heart-breaking for the likes of you, but if you were being honest, it had taken a backseat a long time ago. 

The venue was stunning. Mikyung really had pulled out all the stops for her Seokjinie, the theme winter wonderland-esque in gold and creams. There was even an outdoor area decorated much the same, with the gazebo draped in string lights that twinkled in the dark. You wouldn’t be caught outside in mid-November weather, but each to their own. While the party was in the development stages, it had been a toss-up between a three-course meal or a buffet. In the end, down to a committee vote, buffet had won, which you were ecstatic about because you loved a good ol’ buffet. Jungkook was chuffed too and sat next to you munching on two plates piled high with every option available. 

The guest list wasn’t excessive, but it did include a few family members and friends you hadn’t met yet, and Seokjin introduced you to them with a very loving “this is my ____.” It made you beam and feel almost drunk, which you were most definitely not. Somewhere along the line you lost him, but you were in no condition to go and find him. Instead, you sat down at the corner table you’d nabbed for your own, and watched everyone having fun, amused and quietly laughing to yourself. It made you happy that there were so many people here celebrating Seokjin. 

Your brother was poking around what was left of the buffet, and your father and Yeonja were slow dancing together in the middle of the dancefloor. When the song changed abruptly, you watched them break apart awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. Your sister was sat on the opposite side of the room, on her phone, but occasionally you caught her glancing up and watching Hoseok who was now busting out some moves while Kang struggled to keep up. (Fun fact: Hoseok was a trained street dancer. You’d found out tonight.) Ah, not only was he way too old for her, but he was also gay. Maybe she’d realise both on her own, if not you’d let her down gently later. Jungkook was dancing with Haram. She was laughing as he spun her around. They both looked like they were having fun, which was nice to witness. It was a far cry from their behaviour at your dinner party all those weeks ago. 

Seokjin’s brother and wife were dancing with Taeoh and Jiu. His parents must be outside – crazy people. Namjoon and Yeeun were sat on a table; he whispered in her ear and made her giggle. Mari walked over, unintentionally interrupting them. Yuna and Jimin were nowhere to be seen. 

While deep in concentration, a figure suddenly leaned over you, blocking your view, and you looked up to see a joyful looking Seokjin. His face was flushed and his eyes shiny, but he wasn’t drunk. Now that you were close to the end, he refused to touch even a drop of alcohol. Just in case. 

He held out his hand. “Care to dance with me, my beautiful lady?” 

“How about a shuffle?” 

He chuckled. “I would want nothing more than to shuffle with you.” 

With a grin, you took his hand, and he helped your stiff body up. You needed to dance at least once, or just get on the dancefloor. Thankfully, the song changed as you got there, something slow and meaningful again. You looped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist and started to sway slowly. He looked hot in a tux. If you had the energy, you’d rough it up later tonight. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the case. 

“Happy early birthday,” you said, kissing him. 

One of Seokjin’s palms slid to your bump as he smiled against your mouth. He pulled back slightly. “I’m looking forward to my early gift.” 

“I love you, you know that, don’t you?” You didn’t know what it was, possibly the lyrics in the song you were dancing to, but the love you felt for him seemed to want to burst out of you. 

“I do know that,” he replied, his smile turning into a cheeky grin. “I love you more, though.” 

Laughing at how ridiculous he was, you gazed into one another’s eyes and continued to slow dance, Sarang in the middle. Even when the song shifted. Neither of you cared that you weren’t in time to the music. But before long, Yuna appeared at your side, tugging your arm. 

“I’m stealing your woman,” she told Seokjin, who knew not to put up too much of a fight. She dragged you into the centre of the room. “I’ve been waiting for you to get on the floor all night!” 

Well, she best make the most of it because she had exactly three more minutes before you gave out. You weren’t even moving your feet as she held your hands and moved your arms up and down, but you were both having fun, laughing and making noise. You span her around at one point, then felt a throb in your lower back. That was it. 

“Yuna, I can’t do anymore,” you shouted over the music, one hand clutching the offending area. 

“Party pooper!” she yelled, but she was grinning as she said it, kissing your cheek before you hobbled off, your feet killing you. 

You made your way back to your corner, flopping down on the chair with a groan. Seokjin had disappeared again, but you didn’t mind. You needed five. Unless your bladder decided it wanted to be emptied again. You’d spent enough of your time in the restroom already. As you were sending a silent prayer to your bladder, you felt a twinge low in your stomach. You didn’t think much of it as you’d been experiencing similar things for a few days anyway. At your last doctor’s appointment, it had been confirmed that your bump had dropped, and Dr. Choi had said you might start experiencing some aches and twinges here and there as labour drew closer. 

However, that twinge did feel a lot stronger, and your back was burning, but maybe it was because you’d been more active tonight than you had been for days – weeks even. As you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your lower back continued to throb. Your pain was interrupted by Kang coming over. He was breathing hard and sweat was beading from his hairline. The chair scraped across the floor as he threw himself down. “Not feeling it either?” you asked through gritted teeth. 

“Hoseok doesn’t even know I’m gone,” he laughed weakly, then furrowed his brow when he took you in. “You okay?” 

“I think I’ve hit my limit tonight,” you admitted, rubbing the underside of your bump. Maybe you should go find Seokjin and tell him you were going home. He could stay here, you didn’t mind, and you didn’t want to ruin his night. You were sure your dad could take you back, he hadn’t been drinking either because he had to drive back to the hotel he, Yeonja and your siblings were staying at for the night. 

“Should I ask one of the waiting staff for some water?” Kang asked, sounding concerned. 

You shook your head. “I’m fine.” Then belatedly remembered your manners. “Thank you.” 

Kang didn’t look like he believed you. 

“THERE YOU ARE!” Hoseok’s screech of a voice made you both jump, and you winced. Shit, your back felt as if it was on fire. “Don’t think you can sneak away from me, lover,” he told Kang, pulling at his hands. “Come dance again!” He noticed you then. “Hey, ____!” Then noticed your expression, instantly worried. “What’s wrong?” 

You sucked in a breath. “Nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing,” Kang said. He leaned over, brows knitted together. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look like you’re in pain.” 

You felt another—something. “I just—it’s just twinges.” They both saw your grimace. This wasn’t just a twinge. It was going on for a little longer, something inside you clenching. Stomach muscles maybe, or something else… “I should find Seokjin.” You jumped up with a buoyancy you didn’t know you had anymore, panic and pain driving your body. 

“Maybe he stepped outside. Let me—” 

Kang stopped abruptly when the sound of liquid splashed on the floor. There wasn’t much of it, and it was a similar sound to when you had a mug of tea filled too full and some slid over the brim and onto the floor as you walked. Only it was coming from between your legs, so it wasn’t tea. And you weren’t holding a mug. 

“Is that…?” The colour drained from Hoseok’s face, which did nothing for your nerves. You stared wide-eyed at Kang. You needed him right now. He was a nurse. He could make sense of the situation. Had you peed yourself? It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“____, don’t panic,” Kang began calmly, “but I think you might be in labour.” 

“I can’t be.” You shook your head, adamant. Or maybe it was because you couldn’t be going into labour here. Surrounded by your family and friends and even some people you didn’t know. “I’m not due yet. My doctor said I might feel some—things but I—” 

“____, your waters have broken,” Kang interrupted. Firmer this time. 

“Oh God, not here.” You crumbled, heart starting to race ninety to the dozen.

“Sit back down,” he ordered softly, getting you back down into the chair. You felt damp between your legs and your socks felt slightly wet and gross. “Hoseok, go and find Jin – as discreetly as possible,” he added, looking around. 

Good. The last thing you wanted to do was gain attention. But for how long that would be possible, you had no idea. You were in labour in the middle of a party. 

“On it,” Hoseok nodded purposefully and disappearing. 

No sooner had he gone, Jungkook was appearing in his place. “What’s going on here?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “ ____, wanna dance?” 

“I don’t think she’s up to it right now,” Kang replied, his hand on your back. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he took you in, and got wider when he noticed the floor. “Oh shit. Are you having the baby?” 

“She’s in labour, yes,” Kang answered for you. 

“Where’s Jin?” 

“Hobi went to find him.” He tugged on Jungkook’s suit jacket. “Come here, crowd a little so people don’t realise what’s going on.” 

Obliging, he hid you from view, the front of his shoe in your amniotic fluid! You made a strangled noise, but he didn’t seem to care. “Are you okay?” he asked, and he sounded panicked. 

“Sort of,” you winced, moving a little because of your back. “I’m a little mortified if anything.” 

In truth, you couldn’t quite believe it was happening. Surely you would have realised earlier? And surely you should be in more pain? You mean, yes, you were in pain right now, but shouldn’t it be worse? Or maybe it just hadn’t kicked in properly yet. Oh God, the thought made you nervous. Your hand was shaking as you brought it over your mouth, breathing out slowly. 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Jungkook insisted. “I guess Sarang wanted to be a part of the fun too.” 

You managed a smile, grateful he was trying to make a joke. “Fuck, I really hope she won’t be born right here right now.” 

“You have a good few hours yet,” Kang reassured, still rubbing your back. “Don’t worry—” 

“____!” Seokjin exclaimed, racing towards you, shoes skidding on the floor. There was nothing discreet about the father of your baby. Not that you cared right now, you just wanted him. 

You reached out for him in panic, gripping his hand as he got closer. “Seokjin, she’s coming!” 

Kang moved so Seokjin could take his seat. “This suddenly?” he asked, taking over rubbing your back. You knew what he was thinking. He’d only seen you twenty minutes ago. His eyes were wide, his breathing coming out in loud puffs. 

“My back’s been aching more than usual today,” you started babbling. “I didn’t realise at first, I just thought it was—” You stopped when you felt another tightening sensation and looked up at Kang. “Are these contractions?” 

He nodded. “You’ve probably been in latent labour for a few hours.” 

Seokjin let out a shaky sigh. “We need to get to the birthing centre.” 

“Call first,” Kang advised. “You might get there just to be sent home otherwise.” 

“But she’s in labour!” Jungkook cried, then immediately clamped is jaw shut. Kang looked around but there was no one near your corner. Most people were on the dancefloor or outside. 

“Let’s go somewhere quieter at least,” Seokjin said, stroking some of your hair. “Yeah?” he murmured, kissing your cheek. 

You nodded, thankful. You didn’t want to be inside here one second longer. “Where are our parents?” 

“They’re all sat in the gazebo. Jiu’s running around like Road Runner out there. She’s even tiring Taeoh out.” 

Despite the situation, that got a laugh out of you. Jiu was getting confident on her tiny, little feet now. She was turning into a terror. 

“I’ll go let them know. You go,” Hoseok said. 

Seokjin smiled. “Thanks, Hobi.” He helped you up carefully. “Come on, let’s get you in the car. I’ll call the centre from there.” Leaning on him, he kissed your temple. “You’re okay,” he murmured.

“I’m okay,” you confirmed, psyching yourself up more than anything. You could do this. You had this. 

Kang stayed behind to wait for Hoseok while Jungkook followed you both as you tried to make a quick and undiscovered exit. You made it out the room successfully before you remembered something – no wait, someone. You clutched Seokjin’s arm. “Wait, where’s Yuna? I need her.” You needed your best friend. 

Jungkook looked back into the party. “I’ll go find her.” 

It was cold outside, but it was nice. You felt as if you’d been boiling up inside. You sat in the passenger’s seat of Seokjin’s car with the door open as he crouched in front of you, stroking up and down your thighs. 

“____! Oh my God,” Yuna cried, bursting out of the building, Jimin and Kang at her heels. The latter had your coat. 

“Yuna, a bit quieter,” Seokjin hissed, standing up. 

“Sorry,” she panted, her handbag gripped in her fingers. “Oh my God.” She got down low on the floor, replacing Seokjin. “Glob is coming!”

“I’m aware.” You felt another twinge—no, contraction—and held yourself rigid. 

She fussed over you a minute while Seokjin paced behind her. Jimin and Kang were talking quietly among themselves. “Did your waters break?” she asked. They didn’t for some, and you’d both been wondering if it would happen for you. 

“Yes. Oh shit, the floor!” Your neck snapped up and you stared over at Kang. 

“Jungkook asked someone for a mop and bucket, don’t worry. He said it was champagne.” 

Before you could squawk in horror – although, you had to admit that was very sweet of him to do that for you to avoid mortification – Seokjin’s phone started ringing. As he moved closer to you, you heard his mom’s frantic voice, but couldn’t make anything out. 

“It’s fine, mom. Everything’s fine,” Seokjin told her evenly, shooting calmness through your veins. If he could stay in one piece, so could you. Maybe. 

“I’m going to call the centre to see if we can check in. I’ll call you when I know more, all right?” His mother responded with something and he chuckled. “I will, don’t worry… Tell Minsoo and Yeonja she’s doing okay, please… Thank you. I better go. Bye.” 

Seokjin immediately got up the contact for the birth centre but made sure to check on you before he hit call, even as Yuna buzzed between you both. You squeezed his hand, trying to stay calm despite everything. The time had finally come, you were going to have your baby.  

Written 2022 - 2023. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2023

[jessicanjpa]

happy mother's day

It's Alice's first time baking with Esme! An excerpt from this 1957 one-shot. Esme POV.

"I'm home!" I called out from the garage. "And I could use some help!"

I heard Alice's delicate sigh three floors up. By the time I got around to the trunk and opened it, she had flitted to my side wearing a new striped yellow dress and a pitiful look of resignation. She stuck out her arms and I began filling them with bags of groceries.

"You don't really have to do this, you know," I teased her, scooping up the last four bags myself.

"I promised," she said, and her pout turned upward into the smile that was never very far away.

"You did! And it's a chance to learn something new. The older we get, the more we'll treasure opportunities like this."

"I suppose I will. But ugh! Why do you buy so much at the grocery store, and so many things that smell funny?"

We set the groceries down onto the kitchen counter all in a neat line. Alice rooted through the bags, her nose wrinkling more with each one. "I don't even know what this one is!" she complained, pulling out an enormous zucchini with two reluctant fingertips.

"A zucchini. It's a kind of squash. That's what we're baking," I reminded her. "Zucchini bread. And you know how important it is to keep up appearances, especially when we're new. Some of it does go to waste, but we end up donating a lot of it in the end."

We had enjoyed a good, long stay in Klamath Falls. Emmett had, unfortunately, had an accident near the middle of our time there. But it had been an easy cleanup, so it hadn't interrupted our stay. Edward had been able to earn his bachelor's in music performance and Rosalie had finished a degree in bio pre-med. Carlisle and I were fiercely proud of both of their achievements. And even though Emmett had drifted aimlessly between majors for his entire stay at Southern Oregon college, my mother-heart had nearly burst to see him come so far. He hadn't even been able to read when Carlisle had first changed him.

But six years was pushing it; the children hadn't really known what to do with themselves after graduation, knowing we wouldn't have much time left, and Carlisle was starting to get jokes at work about having found the fountain of youth. So after some traveling, we had ended up here in northern Michigan. Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett had just started high school again last week. Alice was torn; we had all hoped that she and Jasper would both be joining the others in school this time, but Jasper was still reluctant. The rest of us all thought he was ready. The only way our newest vegetarian was ever going to trust himself at school was to go and practice being at school. He was dragging his feet and he knew it, but it was his choice in the end. I just wished Alice would go ahead without him and enjoy herself.

My darling girl, full of sunshine! I busied myself getting the ingredients ready, smiling as I watched Alice take the groceries out of the bags, peering at each item as if it were from another planet. Out of all of us, she was the only one who had no memories of her human life—no memories whatsoever of things as commonplace as eating and preparing food. The whole concept was completely foreign to her, and until today she had skillfully avoided my every cajoling effort to join me in the kitchen. Everyone except her had taken at least one turn by now, even Emmett and Jasper. But I had won in the end.

"It's almost Mother's Day," I said to her last Tuesday. "And there's something I really would love; let's see if you can figure it out without any hints."

That was all it took; Alice couldn't resist a challenge for her visions. She loved stretching her gift like this, especially where shopping and surprises were concerned. She eagerly plunged into the silent world of pictures that swirled around inside her head, visiting department store after department store and flipping catalog pages, all without moving a muscle. It took her three days to figure it out.

"Esme!" she pouted, bursting in on me as I was painting that third afternoon. "That's not even a real present!"

"It is to me," I said, opening my arms for her reluctant hug. "You know I've always wanted to bake something with you." She made a face, but she also promised to follow through.

"Hand me the whisk, would you, dear?" I asked her now. She dug through the drawer of mysterious cooking implements, zoning out for a moment, no doubt to peek ahead and see what a whisk even looked like. I donned my favorite apron and tossed another one to her.

"I'll beat the eggs and oil and sugar if you'll peel and grate the zucchini," I offered.

"Gladly," she said, peering with distaste into my bowl. "I will never understand why humans like to scramble up animal embryos. Isn't that... kind of gross?"

"It is when you put it that way," I laughed. "I can't say it appeals to me either, not anymore."

Alice was concentrating, trying to figure out how to peel the zucchini. She was holding the peeler steady and drawing the vegetable back and forth along it instead of the other way around.

"Try the opposite way," I suggested gently. "You hold whatever you're peeling still and draw the peeler downwards, away from you. Then lift it up and start at the top again." She nodded and tried again, sticking her tongue out in concentration. Her pressure wasn't quite right and she ended up peeling away a good half of the zucchini itself, but I adored her effort. I laid three more down for her to do.

"You know I like to bake for various local things now and then," I explained, whisking the oil into the eggs and sugar at superspeed. "Hospital fundraisers, the children's ward, sometimes an event or two at whatever school you all are attending... Good. Now you're going to grate the zucchini right into this mixture." I demonstrated first this time.

"I'm sure they appreciate the gesture," she said, "but you and Carlisle give gobs of money to those things anyway. Wouldn't store-bought cookies or bread be just as good?"

"Heavens, no! They aren't baked with love when those industrial machines do the work. And it makes me feel good, too. It feels like I'm actually participating in a way that feels familiar and human. Baking was a way I showed love to people in my first life, so I kept on doing it in my second, even when I wasn't ready to go out at all. It's a shame I can't enjoy the food myself, but it's still special."

"You used to volunteer at Carlisle's hospitals, didn't you?" Alice asked.

"Now and then, yes. But it's been a long time." I hesitated for a second. "I've been thinking of a new adventure lately—going back to school."

"Really? You would pose as a college student?" She looked doubtful.

"I would be a college student," I laughed. "Why, do you think I look too old? I might need a little help from you and Rosalie..."

That perked her right up. We started chattering about ways we could make me look younger: hairstyles, makeup, styles of clothing and jewelry and shoes and purses, even ways I could talk differently. Alice got so focused on our brainstorming that her grating went faster and faster until her fingertips accidentally smushed the grater's holes in on themselves and she had a big mush of zucchini pulp on the other side. She put everything down and scowled at it.

"I don't think I'm going to be good at this," she said with a sigh, picking at the grater with her fingernails to make the holes right again. "For all I know, I've never done any of it before."

"It's all right," I assured her. I moved on to the dry ingredients in my own bowl. "We're so... perfect at so many things that I find it can be refreshing to not be so good at something, or to at least be so new at something that we can make mistakes. I bought several. Just try again." She took another zucchini, moving more carefully this time. She was concentrating so hard her tongue was sticking out the corner of her mouth again. She was so adorable; I couldn't resist. I snapped a picture before she could change her pose. She didn't even notice. Everyone had grown used to my clicking shutter by now.

Jasper had quietly joined us a moment ago. He was leaning against the kitchen door frame with his arms folded, watching Alice with the most tender, thoughtful smile. He caught my attention behind her back and twisted that naughty little corner-grin of his, the one he got whenever he was about to prank Emmett somehow. He pounced and grabbed her from behind, making her scream.

"I'm sorry!" he laughed, letting her go and dodging the half-grated zucchini she tried to slap him with. "It was just too easy—I could tell you were too immersed in your, uh..."—he gestured toward the mixing bowl vaguely—"for visions, and the stink was strong enough for a good stealth operation... what?" he added, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing," Alice said sweetly, turning back to stir the putrid green mixture. "Just thinking of how I'll get you back."

"It was worth it," he promised, wrapping his arms around her again, this time for a peck on the cheek.

"Hmm," was all she said. Her eyes were absent, scanning the future. I picked up the camera again, just in case.

"I think you'd better get out while the getting's good," I told Jasper. "Unless you'd like to help out too?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "No thanks. I've already served my time. Emmett and I are going out to whip up some dinner of our own."

"You ready?" Emmett called out, just coming down the stairs. Alice whipped around and flicked a heaping spoonful of zucchini mush, hard, straight at Jasper's face. Jasper ducked just in time for the missile to fly over his head... straight into Emmett's open mouth.

I laughed and took the picture just as Emmett's eyes bulged out in horror. He spewed it all out, and it just happened to time perfectly with when Jasper stood back up, so he got a faceful as well. He swiped furiously at the mess and his mouth, and I got one more picture to commemorate the moment when my newest son tasted human food for the very first time. He looked like he was actually going to vomit, and he sounded like it too. He finally rushed over to the sink and flushed it all out with water, leaving a bright green trail everywhere he stepped. Alice was serenely stirring the batter, humming to herself.

"Was it still worth it?" she asked innocently.

"No," Jasper said, shuddering one last time. "It was not. Real funny, Emmett."

"You're blaming me?!" Emmett practically yelled. He was wiping his mouth out with my brand new kitchen towel. I sighed and took it from him, dropping it in the trash; I had learned the hard way never to put venom in the washing machine.

"I guess not," Jasper sighed, growling playfully at Alice as he passed instead of giving her a goodbye kiss. Emmett relaxed and turned to go, but Jasper flew up behind him and punched him so hard in the gut that a dribble of venom and old blood gushed out of his mouth. Emmett grabbed Jasper and roared and yanked the back of Jasper's shirt over his head before he could struggle out of Emmett's bear-sized grip.

"Take it outside," I warned them. I grabbed another towel and rushed to get the blood and venom before the dining room floor could start dissolving.

"NOW!" I shouted as they tumbled blindly into the sofa, knocking it askew by several feet. It took them a minute, still snarling and struggling to get a grip on each other, but they got out the back patio door without causing any further carnage. I caught the floor lamp as it fell, an inch before it hit the ground.

"Those two, I swear," I said, dropping the towel into the trash with the other one. "And you saw that whole thing, didn't you?"

"Who, me?" Alice said, stirring furiously.

[emeraldspiral]

Thinking about how so far in Invader Zim the only members of Irken society we've seen have been members of the military, fast food workers, and scientists. I headcanon that there are no artists on Irk and all creative work is done by AI, but I like to think that there are civilian Irkens who do other jobs besides working in the military or feeding or supplying the military. I imagine they probably have big corporations that make the snack food Irkens love, their vehicles, communication devices and other infrastructure, their TVs and couches and other everyday items needed for leisure and entertainment, etc... And Irkens absolutely would have a celebrity culture surrounding the CEOs of these companies. Like, everyone idolizes them and hangs onto their every word hoping their success will rub off on them. And since extreme selfishness is so ingrained in their culture, Irkens don't even have to pretend to think these are good people. They know all about and applaud the exploitation of underpaid workers, price gouging customers, and every other shady business practice meant to maximize the CEO's profits at the expense of everyone else. They don't think that makes you evil, they think it makes you smart. But they also kinda only think being greedy and exploitative makes you smart because they think if you're rich, powerful, and successful you must be smart and therefore everything you do is smart. But these guys aren't smart at all. They're basically all indistinguishable from Red and Purple. Literally every CEO is an Almighty Tallest-lite, running their companies the exact same way Red and Purple run the entire Empire. Because the Control Brains love their brainless figureheads.

Irkens are told that if they work hard to prove themselves, they can advance to any station, even overcoming the barriers of height discrimination. But the reality is that the Control Brains have the ability to control for height through genetic selection in the cloning process and hormone control throughout a developing Irken's life. So they can pick and choose who's going to be tall and receive Tallness Privilege and be automatically granted opportunities shorter Irkens have to fight tooth and nail for, only to still be denied no matter what, reinforcing the idea that being taller means being inherently better. So while tall Irkens don't get the benefit of inherited wealth since their are no families on Irk, they do get pre-selected by the system to go through special training sims for business and leadership elites and receive massive grants for free upon graduation to start-up or buy into a business. And of course they also receive bailouts aplenty whenever they run their businesses into the ground. Because don't they deserve another chance to buy their way into and fuck up another company? They are Tall after all. Meanwhile, the lower Irken classes have to save their monies for decades just to open up a hot-dog stand, or try to take out a loan, which most will be denied flat-out if they aren't tall enough. If they can get a loan the interest will be insanely high and investors will expect a return on investment within an unreasonably short period, making it all but impossible for new small businesses to succeed and grow, further reinforcing the notion that smaller Irkens are just too stupid to run businesses.

Also, because Irkens are so greedy and have no families to leave inheritance to it's traditional for rich Irkens to arrange for their monies to be burned so that nobody can access their wealth. Because they don't want any inferior Irkens getting their hands on one cent of their money that they earned because they were smarter, taller, and better than everyone else. There are rumors of certain eccentric Irken billionaires who buried their money in a secret location, or in a tomb full of death traps, or used near-impossible to hack encryption software to lock their funds behind a digital wall, so that their wealth might still be accessible to someone clever enough to prove their worth. But whenever someone manages find these alleged treasure hoards, it always turns out to be a cruel prank by the billionaire before they died. Their money was burnt all along.

[khloecanread]

one more thing about being a barista

summary - there are many things Nico loves about being a barista.

cw: mostly none, use of Y/N, grammar errors, might be a little silly or cringey

barista x gn!reader, 1.8k words

a/n: hi everyone!! this is my first time posting on tumblr of something that is my own, so i am very excited and a little nervous hehe. this also may or may not be based off of my friend, but i'd never tell you that... anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

ू♡ ࿔ ۪ू♡ ࿔ ۪ू♡ ࿔ ۪

Since becoming a barista 2 years ago, Nico has found many things he loves about his job.  

It was a learning curve at first, but once he got the hang of it, he started to see the joy that being a barista brought to his life. There’s the familiarity of what each drink needs and the satisfaction of completing every order with his best efforts, or the routine of preparing drinks that makes it easy to get into a steady rhythm of work. Then there is also the other end of the spectrum, where someone will come in with something unique that he’s never made before, ready to take on the challenge of creating their order exactly to the customer’s liking.   

Nico has also found that a drink can often tell a lot about the person who is ordering. Caramel frappes are usually ordered by young, pre-teen girls, cold brew dudes are like the cool uncles/cousins we all wish we had, iced chai lattes are down to earth people, and anything with matcha are immediate green flags. But no matter the order, Nico puts his all into creating his drinks because that’s just how he is. Ask any of his coworkers and they’ll praise him for his work ethic, for always doing his job with his best efforts. Nico also likes to think that he pours a little bit of his own love into every drink that he makes, crafting each one meticulously. It’s one more thing he enjoys about being a barista – if a single drink can brighten someone’s day, he’ll make sure it’s perfect for them.  

So that’s what Nico found himself doing, like any other day at his job. It was getting close to rush hour, so he was relishing the lack of chaos in the cafe while he could. He was cleaning up around his station when the bell rang, notifying that someone walked in. His coworker was already making a drink, so he said over his shoulder, “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”  

He finished up and walked over to the register, preparing the kiosk to take the next order. He greeted the customer, saying the usual, “Hello, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you today?” At “today,” he finally looked up at you and suddenly found his eyes going a little wide.  

- 

You started looking for a job a couple of months ago, trying to make money while you were finishing college and not be so greatly indebted before you graduated. You applied everywhere you thought you were fit to work – only for you to be turned down in almost every store.  

Right when you were coming to terms with spending your entire life trying to pay off your loans, one manager called you back saying that you might get a chance to work at their store. You went back to interview with them, and you were hired on the spot! You do think they were a little bit desperate because they had to let one of their employees go on short notice. Apparently, it was something about how workers within the mall should never meddle with each other (Isa, your coworker, said the previous employee slept with another worker from a different store and they got caught. Yikers!).  

Nevertheless, you secured a job that you thought was enjoyable. It paid well and you had a schedule that worked around your classes. Your coworkers were kind to you, and they never failed to keep you entertained with the mall lore that was around before you arrived. You quickly warmed up to them and now consider them to be people you’re quite close with. And though retail can be draining sometimes, you thought that you were sufficient when it came to dealing with customers and providing them with your service. Overall, you were grateful that you got the job and even more grateful that you’ve met new people you could call friends.  

It’s been about a month and a half since you first started, and you finally felt comfortable enough to go outside of the store and explore the mall. Your manager was keen on not letting some form of “meddling” happen again, but everyone believed that enough time has passed for you guys to leave during your break and go grab some food or a quick drink.  

You decided to go for a drink, preferably coffee. It’s always right before when school ends do professors decided to dump hellfire on you and keep you up late at night to complete all their projects and assignments! You never appreciated that fact but it’s something you couldn’t change. 

 So you walked to Starbucks, the cafe not being as busy as you usually see it. You were happy it wasn’t very full because ordering already gave you enough anxiety by itself. Add a full line of people behind you that were desperate to get caffeine in their veins, and you were a complete stuttering mess. 

The bell rang as you opened the door, and you were immediately greeted with soft conversation and the smell of coffee beans. The soft lightning made the environment even better, giving off a cozy and safe atmosphere within the cafe. Maybe Starbucks isn’t so bad when there aren’t people trying to kill each other for a drink, you thought to yourself. 

You heard the barista say that he’ll be with you in a moment, and you took that extra time to yourself to look at the menu and memorize your order. You found it a little funny how you were able to work in a retail store and interact with all sorts of people but get so nervous when having to order a drink. You just don’t want to inconvenience anyone, and you never know what to say when they ask you what kind of milk you wa- 

“Hello, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you today?” the barista asked, interrupting your thoughts.   

“Oh, uh- hi. I’ll take a Brown Sugar Iced Shaken Espresso,” you replied a little too quietly for your liking. “Please,” you added with a smile.  

You waited for some response, but the barista just looked back at you with wide eyes. 

- 

Nico likes to think that he’s seen his fair share of beautiful people in his life. Not that he goes around claiming so, but many people stop by the cafe, and he’s certainly found some of them attractive.  

But he was sure you took that title out of all of them.  

Beautiful wasn’t a fair word for him, you looked to be much more than that. It was like someone knocked him in a stupor and left him in need to find his wits again. He doesn’t know what it was, call it his allergies or his lack of sleep, but Nico was confident that you had stolen the air right out of his lungs. 

He looked at you some more and he saw the way your smile made your eyes crinkle around the corners, or the way your hair just seems to lay perfectly around your face. How your voice seems to sound like a soft melody he could listen to forever, only drawing him further in his trance. He wishes to hear your voice again and-  

Wait. He heard your voice?  

Oh.  

That’s when he realizes that you’ve spoken. And that he was staring.  

How embarrassing.  

“I- I’m sorry, could you repeat that for me?” Nico let out a nervous chuckle.  

“Oh no, don’t be sorry, that’s completely my fault,” you replied, reciprocating the energy back with an awkward laugh. “I’m not very good at this y’know, I usually just get whatever I see first on the menu, haha. But don’t worry, I know what I want this time. Uhm, I’d like a Brown Sugar Iced Shaken Espresso, please.” You smiled at him again and Nico somehow felt his knees go a little weak, but he was sure to not lose his senses this time and entered the order into the kiosk.  

“And what kind of milk would you like to add to that?” Nico made sure to smile too because he was pretty sure he’s been looking a little stupid these past couple of minutes. 

That’s when he noticed your smile faltering a bit. You looked down at your fidgeting hands, then you looked back up at the menu, trying to figure what goddamn milk you should put in your drink. You were hoping he wasn’t going to ask, but that was a silly wish because they always ask. It was then that Nico decided to step in to help, taking note how you seemed a little nervous to be ordering. 

“Oat milk is a popular choice amongst customers! It’s good for making coffee creamier and it’s vegan friendly as well,” he offered. 

You felt a grateful smile grow on your face as you replied, “Yes, I’ll take that. Thank you.”  

Nico asked you if you would like anything else and when he completed your order, he was sure to make your drink with extra care. More care than he already does. And it wasn’t because you were insanely attractive (although he did think you were and he wasn’t afraid to admit it), but because of how you seemed a little timid while ordering. Nico’s heart goes out to those kinds of people because he used to be a shy person himself when he was younger. He knows how it can feel when asking for something, let alone to a stranger, and he felt proud of you for going up and doing something that might’ve been out of your comfort zone.  

Maybe he should’ve felt more concerned about his feelings for you when you’re literally a stranger he’s likely to never see again, but he’s just going to ignore that and call it his compassion. You can never go wrong with a little compassion for others, especially when it comes to being a barista.  

“Brown Sugar Iced Espresso for Y/N!” Nico called out. He had to look for you a little in the cafe because rush hour was just starting. He felt a little protective of you for some reason and wanted to make sure you were okay, when he saw you out of the corner of his eyes. 

As you went up to grab your drink, you replied, “Thanks Jericho, I really appreciate it!” You thought you saw a little blush creep up on the barista’s face, but you didn’t think anything more of it as you walked back to the store.  

Nico was a little confused as to how you knew his name, but he then realized that he decided to wear his nametag this morning. He was glad that he did because if he didn’t, he may have never known how his name sounded on your lips. And as Nico watched you leave; he was once again filled with pride to have the title of his job. It’s just one more thing he enjoys about being a barista – the beautiful customers and the way they leave him blushing. 

ू♡ ࿔ ۪ू♡ ࿔ ۪ू♡ ࿔ ۪

[emmyfairy]

The Concert Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie Munson did not think of you as a friend. 

Not in a bad way, you were always civil to one another and whatnot, but your paths did not often cross socially. 

You had a few shared classes when you were both in high school, but while he stayed after for Hellfire, you had stayed for book club. 

Same solar system, different planets. 

Once he had finally graduated and gotten a job at the new music store in town, he was pleasantly surprised to see you cross his path more often. 

You were a frequent costumer, buying records and tapes, often from the sale bin which he could relate to, and if he snuck in his employee discount what was the hurt? 

Eddie was glad the two of you were growing into acquaintances, having multiple mutual friends helped, and Eddie hoped- into friends. 

He always knew you were the quiet type, rarely raising your hand in class, and even now, shy greetings whenever you see him in the shop or the grocery store, or at the library you worked at when he just had to reread The Silmarillion. 

But, it was getting better. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face whenever he thought about it, how much more open you were getting with him- and him with you. You never made him feel judged, he really liked spending time with you. More than he let himself admit. 

The blossoming friendship he thought was forming began to cloud with doubt one Wednesday morning as he watched you make your way into the shop, and up to the counter he was leaning behind. 

“Hey sweetheart.”

“Morning Eddie.”

You didn’t look at him when you greeted him, and while it gave him a chance to admire your chosen outfit for the day and the way the sunlight helped you glow, he didn’t like the nervous twirling of your hands. 

Narrowing his eyes at you and pushing himself off of the wall he encroached you, 

“Everything all right sweetheart? We got a new shipment of Queen, you wanna take a look?” 

Your eyes were darting around, weight shifting from one foot to the other, still not looking at him and damn Eddie hated it. A sinking feeling started to pit in his stomach. 

Were you mad at him? Did he do something wrong? Say something wrong? Did he-

You finally spoke up, cutting off his thoughts, 

“I have some tickets to a show…”

Trailing off you seemed to be digging for some courage, 

“They’re to Iron Maiden, I really want to go. I loved that tape you made me but I can’t go on my own. And-and I know you like them so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? Together? Ya’know if you’re not busy or,”

It was Eddie’s turn to cut you off, 

“Dammit princess you had me scared there.”

He sighs out in overly dramatic relief, leaning back and placing a hand over his chest,

“Of course I’ll go with you, don’t know what you’re so nervous about. I love Iron Maiden and I love y- hanging out with you.”

Good save idiot

The relieved smile that spreads across your face makes his heart skip a few beats, mouth drying, 

“Really? That’s great Eddie! The venue is a bit far, I’ll pay for gas but I was hoping…”

“I’ll drive sweetheart no issue there, and don’t worry your little head about gas.”

He knew you got nervous driving in unfamiliar areas, and he’d drive you to the end of the earth if you asked. 

Afterwards, having given him the needed information and whatnot the two of you had listened to the new records the store had recently gotten in. 

Eddie watched you, head bobbing along, internally cursing every customer that came in and interrupted your time together. 

He couldn’t wait for the concert. 

Eddie Munson didn’t do nervous, at least that’s what he was chanting to himself in his head. In reality the boy had changed outfits all of thirty times, attempted to tame his frazzled hair, and cleaned his boots off to the best of his ability. 

So, not his usual pre-concert routine. 

He was on his way to your house, his stomach threatening to drop out of his ass the entire ride. 

Why the hell am I so fucking nervous? 

Oh, he knew why, he just wouldn’t admit it. 

Eddie was planning on going up to your door all gentlemanly, but as soon as he had pulled up, you were bounding down the pathway towards his van. 

Thankful that he had left the windows open a few hours to get rid of as much of the smoke and fumes as he could, he watched as you paused before the door. Gently tugging it open and peering up at him. 

“Hi.”

God damn it you’re so fucking cute. 

Eddie cleared his throat, cheeks betraying him and pinking,

“Ready sweetheart?”

You climbed into his passenger seat, 

A throne for m’lady, he thought. 

“Yup!”

Here we go.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to reblog and comment! Part 2? 🤔

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 93 - Bumps and Biscuits

Ophelia's well into her second trimester, and she's feeling a bit drained.

Ophelia: You are wearing me out, baby girl… But hey, I think I rock this baby bump, don't you?

Xander and Ophelia cuddle before bed when something dawns on them.

Ophelia: We haven't even talked about a name.

Xander: Oh yeah. I keep calling her Muffin in my head, but I don't think she'd love putting that as her legal name on job applications.

Ophelia: We could name her after your mom.

Xander: That's really sweet, babe, but there's a good chance this kid is going to come out with your complexion and I think naming a little white blonde girl Lakshmi is going to look more insulting than honoring.

Ophelia: Fair.

Ophelia: I did have another name in mind, in the back of my head…

Ophelia tells Xander the name and explains the reasoning behind it. Xander seems on board.

Xander: That's a beautiful name.

Ophelia: We can think up a few more options.

Xander: No no, I love that one.

Well, that's one less thing to cross off their list. Tomorrow is the start of Ophelia's third trimester, so they're going to add the finishing touches to the nursery. Pretty soon, their lives will change forever, but right now, they're enjoying this experience together.

The nursery is finished. They maybe went a little overboard with toys for someone that won't be able to play with them for a while, but you only have your first baby once.

Ophelia can't help but sit in the rocking chair and wonder what their little one is going to be like when she gets here. Is she going to be cautious, wiggly, sunny, calm? And what's she going to be like when she's not an infant? Guess that's the fun part, isn't it?

One thing Ophelia does know about her daughter is that she's got one hell of a leg. Pregnancy isn't all lollipops and rainbows.

Ophelia: I love you so much already, kid, but I'm not going to be sad to not have you treating my organs like a soccer ball anymore.

Travis and Becca gifted the future parents a few baby books, so Ophelia decides to read to the baby.

Ophelia: The boy wanted to play with the horsies, but the mean business man wouldn't let him if the boy didn't pay $40. "That's a bit steep for just horses," said the boy.

Ophelia: Do you think our baby will be smart?

Xander: Sure. I did okay in school. And weren't you valedictorian?

Ophelia: I didn't go to graduation after getting kicked out, I think the salutatorian took my place. To be honest, this is the first book I've read since then.

Xander: If our girl grows up anything like her mommy, then she's going to be great all around.

Ophelia: Let's hope the klepto trait isn't genetic.

Xander: If it is, we know how to help her.

Xander kisses the side of his wife's head as she continues to read. Not much longer!

During lunch, Ophelia hits her third trimester. The baby kicks her once again, but this time it just feels kind of funny.

Ophelia: Hey, settle down in there! Do you want Mommy to have a bladder failure?

Marshmallow needs some attention. Not that she'd ever admit it or anything.

Ophelia: Poor baby, Mommy and Daddy have been so busy, haven't they? Maybe you need a little kitty playmate to keep you company.

Marshmallow: an underling? excellent idea, mother.

Ophelia: Sheesh, look at how big I am, Marshie. I'm about to pop!

Marshmallow: are you making yourself appear larger to scare off prey, mother?

Ophelia uses her time before the baby arrives to work on completing her first original song. When she can't sleep because of how much she's aching, she uses the time to slam out some more lyrics. Ophelia's never been one to just sit around and wait for something to happen.

Ophelia didn't get the best sleep last night, but it was enough. She has a craving for sausage gravy and biscuits, so she gets out all the ingredients, only for something to interrupt her.

Ophelia: Uh, Xander? I think my water just broke.

Xander instantly goes into pre-parental panic mode.

Xander: Oh Watcher, okay, we've got this. I'll go get changed, grab the bag-

Ophelia: Aww man, I really wanted biscuits.

Xander: You're in labor and you're thinking about biscuits?!

Ophelia: I can multitask!

As Xander runs upstairs to grab some stuff to take to the hospital, Ophelia pulls some leftover fruit out of the fridge so she doesn't starve to death. It's no biscuit, but it'll do.

Eat up, Feefs! It's go time!

[randomvarious]

Today’s compilation:

These People Are Nuts! 1989 New Wave / Punk Rock / Alternative Rock / College Rock / Post-Punk / Power Pop / Ska

Here's a nice retrospective rundown of one of the greatest and most eclectic indie labels of the 1980s: I.R.S. Records, which was headquartered in the US, but had a whole lot of UK bands on its roster too. Founded in 1979 by a guy named Miles Copeland, I.R.S. started out primarily as a punk outfit, but as new wave proceeded to develop, it sunk its teeth firmly into that movement too, landing a bunch of acts along the way whose material was considered to be strange, zany, quirky, and campy, like Oingo Boingo and Timbuk 3.

But between all the acts that ultimately end up lending to this album's title being These People Are Nuts! are a bunch of bands who aren't considered to be all that weird too, like The Police, The Go Go's, Buzzcocks, R.E.M., and Fine Young Cannibals. So, what we really have here is a nice blend of genuinely good punk and alternarock with straight-up enjoyably silly and irony-laden new wave.

But this album that celebrates I.R.S.' tenth-year anniversary actually opens with a song that predates the label's existence entirely: it's the B-side of the debut record by the band that Miles Copeland's brother, Stewart, happened to play drums for: "Nothing Achieving," by The Police, a terrific classic rock-punk tune that was released in 1977 on another one of Miles' labels he had founded beforehand, Illegal Records.

And another great tune from those pre-I.R.S. days comes courtesy of a little-known band called The Electric Chairs, who, at the time, were fronted by a performer named Wayne County, who now goes by Jayne County. County is someone who holds the honor of being rock music's first openly trans vocalist, and she ended up working with a lot of famous people throughout her career, including David Bowie. Plus, she was also at the Stonewall Riots. So, she's an absolute legend, to say the least, and her band's punk song, "Thunder," which predates her publicly identifying as a woman, was released on Illegal in 1979.

Also, have you ever wondered where the great Fatboy Slim derived his stage name from? Well, it probably came from Maryland's Root Boy Slim, a brilliant and eccentric rabble-rouser who went to Yale and then came back on homecoming weekend the year after he had graduated and got kicked out and permanently banned from his frat house by none other than future war criminal president George W. Bush himself. His song, "Dare to Be Fat," kinda-sorta answers the question of, "what if Frank Zappa was a black blues-rocker?"

And there's a bunch of other songs from this compilation I could write about too, like The Go Go's’ "We Got the Beat," a landmark new wave tune that convinced the group to head towards a sound that was more new wave than punk; or the Buzzcocks' "Ever Fallen in Love," which presented a pretty perfect mix of late 70s punk rock and power pop; or Fine Young Cannibals' debut single, "Johnny Come Home," which showed the world this band's signature mix of rock and ska, along with Roland Gift's uniquely satisfying and tender voice.

But I think I'm gonna dedicate a few sentences to a deeply misunderstood song instead: "The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades," by Timbuk 3. If you've ever heard this top-20 mid-80s hit before, then there's a pretty solid chance that you're among the many people who think of it as quite possibly the dorkiest song that the new wave era ever spat out.

I mean, peep this refrain if you're not familiar:

I'm doing alright Getting good grades The future's so bright I gotta wear shades

Now, is it possible that this song was made in a sort of tongue-in-cheek backlashing kind of way in response to all the live fast-die hard, sex-drugs-and-rock n' roll music that was going around back then? Sure, I guess so. But the song wasn't even really so much as that. It was more about the banality of contributing to an evil system and feeling as though you were on the right path. See, "I Gotta Wear Shades" is told from the perspective of a young nuclear scientist at the height of the Cold War, and that brightness in the future he refers to is actually referencing the potential detonation of the nukes that he's been working on. It's a really cleverly-made song that became a pretty big hit, but people never really seemed to understand the message that was behind it. It certainly wasn't a song to celebrate strait-laced, apple-polishing nerds.

So, there you have it: a nice and varied set of songs from a transcontinental indie label that played a big role in shaping new wave, punk, and alternative rock through its first ten years and change. There wasn't really any other label that was quite like I.R.S. Records. A lot of names that would end up defining eras and styles, along with some real kooks too.

Highlights:

The Police - "Nothing Achieving" The Go-Go's - "We Got the Beat" Wayne County & The Electric Chairs - "Thunder" Root Boy Slim - "Dare to Be Fat" Buzzcocks - "Ever Fallen in Love?" Wall of Voodoo - "Mexican Radio" R.E.M. - "Superman" Doctor and the Medics - "Spirit in the Sky" Timbuk 3 - "The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades" Fine Young Cannibals - "Johnny Come Home" Concrete Blonde - "It'll Chew You Up and Spit You Out"

[loveblackculture]

TYPES OF DATES EVERY COUPLE SHOULD TRY:

1. PICNIC DATE

There is something special and free about the outdoors. Pack up some food and drinks and a leso, find a spot and have fun

2. WALK DATE

Make time to just take a walk as you bond. Walk for long as you hold hands, laugh, bump shoulder to shoulder. You need no money for this

3. ELEGANT DATE

Go all out. Gentleman, ask her out to an expensive, classy venue. Give her a chance to dress up. She will feel special, smiling as you romance her; she wearing her fashionable dress

4. DANCE DATE

Find a place where good music is played or dance is taught and go there as a couple. Salsa, lingala, afro, twist, benga; go to a place where you will sweat, groove and get down

5. IMPROMPTU DATE

Dates don't have to be pre-planned. Be spontenous sometimes, drop everything and go somewhere as a couple for some quality time

6. MOVIE DATE

Go to the cinema. Movies bring out emotions

7. DOUBLE DATE

Go out on a date with another couple close to you. This will give you a chance to celebrate love and talk couple to couple. Your love will grow stronger

8. COMPASSION DATE

There are many people in society to bless. You and your partner, find a children's home, an elderly home, a hospital or someone in need and together go spend time with them. God will bless your love

9. CANDLE-LIGHT DINNER DATE

There is something romantic about looking into each other's eyes in dim candle light. Make it special. Romance is sweet

10. SPECIAL MOMENT DATE

This is when you celebrate big as a couple a special moment like Birthday, Anniversary, Graduation or Promotion. Never forget these moments

11. MAKE-UP DATE

If things between you two haven't been going well. Make effort to save your love by planning a good date. A date provides a good setting to allow you two to talk and get back to deep love

12. LUNCH DATE

Since you work at different jobs, sometimes meet up and have a couple's lunch for an hour or so

13. OLD LOVE DATE

Dates are not for young love only. Sadly, as lovers stay in a relationship/marriage, the dates become fewer as they go through the motions. No matter how long you've been together, step outside your everyday responsibilities and go for a date to rekindle and sustain the excitement

14. SPORTS DATE

Is your favorite football club, rugby team, basketball team, golfer playing? Is it the safari rally, athletics? Go out for dates as a couple where you can scream, cheer and go wild. You two will connect more

15. FRIENDS DATE

Have a barbeque, hook up with friends, throw a party. Organize something as a couple where your love will be celebrated in the presence of close friends

16. TRAVEL DATE

Pack your bags and travel. Break the monotony and as a couple drive, fly, sail to a place you've never been. Experience new attractions together. Your love will never be boring this way

16. STAY AT HOME DATE

Or lock yourself in the house. Not to work or do chores. But to switch off everything and concentrate on each other. Cook together, eat together, make memories for two

[undeadorion-archive]

I can't believe that in just a month, I finally graduate with an AA (2 year) degree. It only took 5 attempts at 3 separate schools across the span of 20 years.

Problems started even before I enrolled. I wanted to study animation but no schools near me had it. But I also had no idea how to find exactly what each school offered (this was back in 2001/2002 when not everyone had a comprehensive website). One of the schools I applied to even sent me a letter because they were confused why I'd apply for a program they don't have.

I finally settled on Evergreen State College in Olympia to study art. Being my first experience, I didn't realize how craptacular the school itself was. You didn't sign up for a specific program like "fine art" or "graphic design." You instead picked from pre-packaged sets of classes called stuff like "Labyrinths" that had an English class, a drawing class, and a print making class all bundled together.

My mom had promised that if I got accepted to a school she'd help me pay for books (I'd taken a year off after high school and just stayed home). When I finally knew what I'd need, I took the list to her with the final amount and she looked me square in the eye and asked how I was going to pay for it.

That school lasted only a year. After multiple bedbug scares and dealing with the crunchiest hippie types you can imagine, I was done. I switched instead to a local community college. And that was fraught with issues. Evergreen didn't do normal grades. They instead gave you a lengthy review at the end of the term with no concise way to say how well you did. So the community college just told me my credits didn't transfer.

Come spring term, I was so frustrated, I ended up having a breakdown in the advising office because nothing was working out. She made one call and got my grades transferred, it had been a glitch all along. But now I had double credits for art and english, which was...frustrating. So I'd made zero progress with an additional year of debt because of 1 person's mistake at the beginning of the year.

Determined to make it through, I enrolled for fall classes. Then everything went to shit. I injured my knee and missed a bunch of classes. I was living with a grossly abusive older sister at my dad's house who I had to get away from. I was the only one with a car, so she thought it was a good idea for me to get up at 6am, drive her to work, come home, go back to bed, then get up for my classes. She also threw me to the floor when I was injured and laughed at the fact that I couldn't get up.

I ultimately dropped out of school and had to get a full time job. Which led to a very long break from school.

In 2016, I was finally able to return to school. I was going to study set design at a local university. They actually had a program for it! At least, they did when I'd started looking in 2014. But by the time I actually was able to enroll, they'd changed the structure so you could take classes in it but it was now a big vague soup of a theater degree where you made your own path.

Unfortunately, I got hit with a double whammy in the spring of 2017. First, the department was doing away with almost every class having to do with set design. Everyone was pissed, including the teachers. Then the supposed friend I was renting a room from decided he wanted a barely legal twink from California with a vomit fetish to move in so he was kicking me out. By chance, my mom was moving back into town so we found an apartment together and I continued going to school. This was a bad decision.

With set design now out the window and yet another year of school wasted, I shifted my attention to architecture. Because I could still apply it to set design. And I did surprisingly well for a while.

The just before Christmas of 2017 (so about 10 months later), I came home from staying with a friend to find my mom had packed up and moved out. Took everything that wasn't in my bedroom, so took all my dishes and cookware. And an apron I'd sewn for myself. Just left me a note saying there was no other option and left the keys.

You see, I'd begun my gender transition in 2015. She must have assumed it was just a phase, because she burst into tears when my paperwork from the courthouse showed up just before Thanksgiving, finalizing my name change. She kept crying and saying she was "mourning the loss of her baby."

Yet again, I had to drop out of school and find a real job. That lasted about a year and I was MISERABLE. I moved back in with my dad, finally. Older sister had moved across the state years before, so I was safe. I enrolled back in the community college from my first go-round, but that barely lasted a term. I tried graphic design and I was bored out of my skull. I ended up getting a job, instead. That was the spring of 2019.

Then 2020 happened.

With so much time at home now, I rediscovered a passion for web design. Something I'd been doing off and on since the 90s. I did some poking around and found that same community college had a program for it. So when my unemployment was running dry, I applied. I started in the fall of 2021.

There were a couple points where I almost dropped out. Some classes and teachers that were so terrible I wondered if it was all worth it. But thanks to one very specific teacher, I kept going. I found I had an aptitude for the actual programming aspects as well as the design parts. He encouraged me to take Harvard's online classes for computer science and web design. And I did surprisingly well in those.

And now, finally. I'm in my last term of classes and excelling. I'm getting paid to tutor students in the classes I've already taken, even. I'm graduating with honors. Something I wouldn't have been able to do when I first started. I've joined 2 honors societies and been on the president's and the dean's lists.

No matter what bullshit life throws at you, the trick is to keep trying. Even if it takes you 10 times as long as it's supposed to, it will always be worth it when you get there.