#he meant well but it definitely wasn't the smartest move

[nostalgical]

thinking about how michael's first instinct was to fight when he witnessed a kid being mistreated by his father in public. displaying the same type of aggression he saw from his own father growing up. what makes it even sadder is when their caretaker judd asked michael afterwards, "what do you think is going to happen when the man you hit and his family go home tonight?" and instantly michael is filled with so much regret because unfortunately he knows. he's been in that kids shoes. and i can only imagine how much guilt he had over what he might have potentially caused. but at the same time, i'm sure he wished that someone would have stood up for him the same way he did for that boy. he would have loved to have known that someone out there could see what was happening and cared enough to do something about it.

[samptlay]

♡ ⁠◍⁠• Skin That Cries Golden Tears • Chapter 1 ◍⁠

◍⁠ Summary:

It had to be by God’s will that your life had come to a short end. Why else would he allow you to get pushed off of a bridge and drown to your death, at the age of 26? Well, what should have been the end of your life when your ex killed you off for rejecting his love once again. So you were definitely in a haze when you woke up at the highest peak at Qingyun Peak on a floating island, inside your favorite game.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn't your fault. Why did he hate you so much? You let him go, told him to move on, that you would even bless him with his newfound lover. Even if he didn’t stay loyal, even if he begged on his knees to have a chance of making things right. Though there wasn’t anything that could change your mind, cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. 

However, you were too precious, perfect, and good for everyone else. So he decided. If he couldn’t have you, no one would. Hence the downfall of your life. Or the uprising? The people of Teyvat are sure to make your arrival a pleasant experience, after all, they’ve been expecting you for centuries.

It had to be by God’s will. Why else would he allow you to get pushed off of a bridge and drown to your death, at the age of 26?

It wasn’t fair. It wasn't your fault. Why did he hate you so much? You let him go, told him to move on, that you would even bless him with his newfound lover. Even if he didn’t stay loyal, even if he begged on his knees to have a chance of making things right. Though there wasn’t anything that could change your mind, cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. It means you have no respect for your partner and no loyalty. Both those things are required if a couple wants to last. Without them, the relationship is doomed to fail, which is what happened.

However, that could never be the end, not for you or him. 

Greedy. too greedy, and so, so selfish. He couldn’t let go. He couldn't move on, even with another woman waiting for him at home. He couldn’t take a step forward in life, knowing that someone could sweep you off your feet at any moment. Knowing that your heart can belong to another. Knowing that he’d be replaced eventually.

So he believed it would be best if the possibility of that happening is zero.

Why did you trust him? “For closure”, he told you. So, initially being the soft-hearted being you are, you meet up with him. Agreeing to meet in the middle of your local bridge where everywhere is surrounded by water positively wasn’t the smartest decision of your life. While you thought he was late, he had been just on time creeping up behind you while you were looking at the vast ocean. And in the next moment, you feel familiar arms wrapping around your waist. You let out a long exhale, knowing it’s him. You used to smile every time you felt his touch, but not anymore.

“Didn’t you say we’re meeting for closure? This should be the last time we see each other before going our separate ways, so I don’t know why you’re touching me. I don’t think we misunderstood what we meant by closure. It’s nothing intimate.” You feel the arms around you tighten, and you wonder for a split second if this is the best situation to be in. You should have stuck to that thought.

“Mh. It is the last time we’ll see each other.” You felt uneasy with the way he was saying that. It was making you nauseous. “But I’m giving you one more chance. Come back to me. It’ll be better this time, I won’t make the same mistake again. Why do you have to be this difficult?” The grip was getting tighter, and you felt as if the oxygen flow from your brain was becoming less frequent. But you still felt the annoyance grow in your body. Did he have no shame? “You have to be joking. Even with your what, fiance living with you right now, you still want more? Even if that woman has no respect for me, it's human decency not to have an affair with someone.”

You could tell that he didn't like the words coming out of your mouth. You could tell you were safe and needed to get out of her, quickly, desperately. But his grip was becoming threatening, and it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe.

“It's disappointing. We really could have had it all, if only you were willing to cooperate.” The words that leave his mouth are followed by what feels like a really hard punch to your back. Suddenly, your body falls limp and he catches you. You weakly reach for your back and quickly discover a knife. The person you once called the love of your life had stabbed you, and there's now blood trickling down your back, it's running cold rather than warm.

“W-Why-” You could barely get anything out as your vision was seeing little black dots. When you felt that he was picking you up, you couldn’t help but want to vomit at the thought of what he might do to your body. “Don’t worry, I'll let you rest in peace. Well, as peaceful as the ocean floor gets.” You want to scream, but nothing’s coming out. It shouldn’t be a surprise he can read your expressions by how long you were together, but you wished the past had never happened. Wished you never even gave him the time of day. Now you know why it’s no wonder his lover before you left the country. Why did you stay? Why didn’t you see the signs? 

From what you could still see, he’s tying something to your neck that you’re sure is supposed to act as a weight. Meaning that once you go in, you're most likely not coming back out. Not even for your own funeral, they won’t find the body. It breaks your heart. You don’t want to die. You don’t want to leave so much behind.

With one more breath from your lungs, he leans down and kisses you. How disgusting. He wouldn’t even allow you to rest in peace. It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker, but it still baffles you, and stuns you into silence. You don’t move, don’t breathe. You’re frozen, all up until he’s holding you over the railing, and your heart is in your head, your whole body’s shaking.

“Goodbye, love.”

Those were the very last words you heard before plummeting to your death.

.

.

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The water is cold, you’re shivering.

You can see red water, or what’s most likely your blood floating around you.

The stab wound in your back aches, you want the paint to go away.

The black spots in your vision are growing. 

You reach out for the surface but you’re sinking.

The weight attached to your neck just makes it harder to breathe, to move. 

This isn’t what you wanted.

You just wished to be admired, loved, cherished. Just as you did for everyone else, even if it hurt you.

Even if it eventually led to your death.

~

Ǔ̷̷̵̸̴̢̡̯͕̻̝̻͈̝̺͕̲̣͍̩̻̫͓̰́͌ͥͣ̒ͥ̒̇̈́̽̎͊ͮͣ́͘͡͡͞Ȉ̶̢̨̖̼̻̦͍͔͖̱͙̩͔̟͊͂̓̇̉̄ͯ̓́̋̄̿͌̾̐ͯͯ͌̌ͣ̿̏̽͜͞D̨̡̡̛͚̙̺̜̮͔̲̙̙̹̳̰̪̬͓ͫ͆̊͑́͋̉ͬ̑̓͂ͧ̎̿̀̕͟͞͠:̶̷̸͎͓̙̗̭̳̣͚̲̫͍̘͇̳̹̈́ͨͯ̊ͨ͋̏̆͒̒̎̓̍̆̍͘͢͝ 6ͫ͒̃͋5͙̹̱̖ͯ͌̄̄̿͗͘_̜̣̻̃̋4͕͂ͨ2̧͙̻͚͎̲̦̼͋̒͗͋ͬ͊̔̋̑ͯ͐̒̓͟͡͠ͅ6̸̷͖̲͙͕̠͓͚̠̬̲͉̞̗̼̭̒̀ͦ̊̏̊ͣͮ͆͒̔͋͂͊͑ͫ͑͛̍̀͞͝5͇̰͎̰͖̟̳̜͑̌̒ͧͪ̃ͤ̉͑́́͛̅͟͜8̴̧̢͇͔͖͉̳̠̪̲͎̫̙̪̃̑̀̑͊̃͑͊ͦ̒̓̂̈͂ͮͦ͘͠ͅ_̶̠_͔̂͒͢͡0̴̢̥͖̖̺͇̼͚͔̣̺̩̗̠͛̃̽͢͞ͅ6̹_̨̞̥ͫͬ̒ͫ͘͟͟_̷̨̥͓̲̞̿̽͆̅ͨͯ_̵̘̬̖ͤ̇̌ͧͨͫͦ͟

Loading…..

Player’s Soul detected, transferring now….

Welcome, Creator.

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A Seelie was floating in front of your face. Blue, alive, breathing, moving. In front of your face. In front of your eyes. You lie motionless on the grass for a few seconds before jolting up with a screech. While doing so, you collide with the Seelie, which feels like flowing silk, the smoothest thing you’ve felt on your skin.

Is this heaven? Or am I just having a very long and realistic dream? Isn’t that an entity from Genshin?  So you’re dreaming about a game that you gamble your soul away to…. Okay. But out of all of them, couldn’t it have been HSR? You feel like you’d have a better chance of surviving there.

…

This is not a dream, is it?

Okay, fine. You died, you remember that very vividly when you were in a literal sense, dragged down to your death. So the universe has decided to grace you with a second chance at life. In an open-world survival game. How gracious.

You can’t lie in flowy grass forever. Even though the moon light makes it perfect. You’re living in a fantasy world, everything is possible.  anything could happen. To you. You have to be smart about this, you can’t just appear out of nowhere and act clueless and all lost. You’ll be questioned immediately and might as well get yourself killed. No matter what nation you go to, who could explain what has happened to you? You’d like to know, but you wouldn’t want to go back. Some things are just better outside the real world. There are no serious politics, no pollution, and no war if you ignore whatever’s happening in Natlan. No absolute need to work a 9 to 5. 

Gathering the courage, you finally get up from the ground and observe your surroundings. Right by your feet, there’s a Windblume. You must be in Mondstant. In all honesty, it’s always been your least favorite nation. Uneventful and quiet. You could live a simple farm life in Liyue. It would be quiet, as long as you avoid Hilichurls.

Speaking of which, while you’ve been standing still and daydreaming about your thoughts, there’s been a distant sound of what seems like life yelling and footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

You finally snap out of it and look behind you, seeing two Hilichurls and one giant Lawachurl heading straight for you. 

Shoot.

You screech and start sprinting, but they’ll catch up in what, 20 seconds?

“Hey, you! Get down, as in right now!”

You can’t tell where the manly voice is coming from but faced with a split-second decision, you instinctively crouch down, shielding your head for safety. All you can hear is the fluttering of a bird and the sensation of heat rushing overhead. You can only catch a glimpse of red hair in a low ponytail.

Edit: I just realized that the summary says you wake up in a different place than Chapter 1. So sorry about this, it's still accurate but it just isn't the first place you wake up.

A/N: Life happened. This is long overdue so thank you all for the wait and sorry and all the empty promises. I'm back, however. I'll go back to my 1-2 week schedule. I found it easier to do with school in session, somehow. But I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 1. I'll make a Masterlist soon.

Sorry if I tagged you twice!

Taglist: @esthelily @cosmo112 @fantasyhopperhea @ilxina @aloflapse

@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve @cluelesstoeverything @strangersomeone @lapinaenmicoche @alwayslegendarymoon @lumiiiiiiiiii @superninjaarbiter @@lexal-amber-rose

Borders by @cafekitsune

[ghouldtime]

Alone. Truly Alone.

I know I’m not the only one who took one singular, inquisitive glance at the new Alone Operator skin for the upcoming season and went “Would”. I need need need content on him

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

If you had to rank all the terrible decisions you’ve made in your life, this would certainly be in the top ten. Breaking into an abandoned place was a bad idea on its own. Now multiply the magnitude of that by twenty, considering it was supposedly some kind of military facility at one point in time before it was left to rot. Then add in the factors that you were alone, without a map, and no cell service. Yeah, definitely not your smartest decision. 

Dozens of garish yellow and red signs marked with a variety of warnings used everything under the sun (and law) telling you not to proceed decorated the corroding chain link fences that lined the property like it was going out of style. The crumbling facade of iron and concrete that made up the walls were made out to match. Everywhere you looked there was yet another warning, another thing telling you to turn back now. That should've been a sign, right?

Well, it wasn't the sign you were listening to. That one, the only sign you cared about right now, you had spotted stapled to a telephone pole as you were waiting to cross the street to go to your favorite grocery store. The crumpled, salmon pink flier hastily crammed in your backpack was your savior and your curse that brought you here.

The reason being a whole whopping $500. Something that would greatly benefit you and cause a whole less of a headache this month - and allow you a chance to breathe. It was a chance you couldn't pass up. And it's not like it was complicated. All you had to do was: get into the desolate fort, get proof of evidence of being inside there (photographic AND physical), and get out. Simple. Easy money. A task that even you could manage in maybe an hour or two, tops. You'd be an idiot not to do it.

Why anyone would pay that kind of money for you to go in there was beyond you. Quite frankly, you didn’t care. Money was money. Everyone had their reasons and if they were paying that much for a task that was that simple, then you weren't going to pry. All they had to do was pay up when the time was done, you'd never think about it again, and you'd be on your merry way a whole lot better off and a little bit richer.

Just to be certain that this wasn't a prank or someone trying to harass their ex with a pathetic attempt to get their number out there, you called the number scrawled hastily on the rain-soaked, faded poster. A harried Scottish accent confirmed without a doubt that this wasn't fake and was real as real could be. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said aside from “Aye”, which was close enough. He seemed to be talking at a million miles an hour in a near frantic tone. Surely, that was a red flag. But right now you were colorblind to everything except green.

It was enough motivation for you to throw some gear into a backpack and head out late in the night to the address of the once-important fort. The promise of cash and having it soon in your hand was plenty to get you moving.

Against your best instinct, against your gut screaming at you and telling you to turn back, and against all common sense - you went forwards anyways and decided today was the day when you’re going to pretend that you’re illiterate and those warnings meant nothing to you anyways.

Stale, stagnant air filtered through the respirator that hung snug on your face. If you breathed in a lungful of whatever was in here without it, it's likely you would’ve ended up with some new kind of respiratory disease previously unheard of - you're sure of it. Algae and lichen clung to some damp crevices, decorated with splotches of black mold the darkened the corners even more along the outskirts of the inky, lingering shadows.

Each cautious step forward onto the rubble and gravel covered ground ricocheted off the dilapidated walls of the corridor, fading into the abyss of black that stretched on far beyond what you could see. Though you doubted the protective eye ware helped you see better - it was probably more of a hindrance but you didn't want to take any more risks than necessary. The last thing you needed was a hospital bill.

The pathetic beam of warm, yellow light your flashlight provided scarcely illuminated the void that swallowed the hallway whole. What little you could see did nothing to motivate you forward. More disintegrating ceiling and rubble-buried winding halls greeted you with the same unwavering stillness as the rest of the place.

Crumbling, bleak, cold passages decorated with mildew, mold, and umber mystery stains you really didn’t want to think about alike stretched in a winding labyrinth you tried your best to navigate. Sparse nearly-disintegrated warning signs served as place markers to guide you through the otherwise directionless building, offering you the smallest sense of navigation and a sense of knowing where you were going.

One foot in front of the other, step by slow step, you made your way through the place untouched by light and people alike.

It shouldn't be that hard, you mused as you kept on walking. Whether it was just to reassure yourself with a steady mantra or confidence was left up to debate, but the fact remained: it was simple. Get an object that irrefutably proved you were here, take a picture - and that was it. That was all.

Now, that still left the question of what to take and what to get a picture of up for debate. Scouring the building hadn’t turned up anything worthwhile so far, except maybe some signage. But they were all too… generic. They were all something that could easily be faked and pulled from elsewhere. And a picture of them or another dimly lit, basic hallway wouldn’t do you any good. It would get you a door slammed in your face, a laugh if you’re lucky, and certainly no $500 which was the whole reason you were here in the first place.

Maybe you should’ve asked specifically what he wanted you to bring and a picture of….

Who are you kidding? You wouldn’t be able to understand a lick of what he said if you did. Maybe his accent was better in person, maybe he had told you in the hurried, almost anxious tone and you weren't remembering - but trying to talk to him again through the phone was a hopeless endeavor. Unless they were keeping a spare brain in here and translating software, you doubt you'd be able to even begin to try and understand the guy. All you could do was silently curse yourself for not asking, curse him for not being more coherent, and try your best to find something unique, snap a picture, and get out of there before you regretted stepping foot in this place even further.

With grumbled curse, knowing very well that you had to go further in the hopes that something actually substantial would greet you, you kept on going. There was no turning back now, no. You'd come too far. One more step forwards got you closer to that money and being out of here.

Yet lady luck wasn't making this easy, nor was she on your side today. A majority of doors you came across had been locked - barricaded, and certainly not something you could open. Their heavy, unyielding steel frames stood impassive, unmoving, and scarcely caring of your plight or any force used against them. It's almost like they stood there, mocking you silently for even trying. It was a waste of energy to even try with another one when the first twelve hadn't done anything more than groan slightly, giving the tiniest shudder before stilling in their frame.

Rounding what must’ve been the hundredth corner, you braced for yet another blank hallway and another unmovable door, but what greeted you was something different enough to cause you to halt in your tracks. An open door. A single, open door marked with a flickering, old bulb dangling above as if it were on its last legs, trying to stay alight. A wave of relief washed over you as you couldn’t help but to sprint forward, closing in on the hope that you could be done and out of here - and you’d have your money before you knew it! It was almost over. This aimless wandering with a stuffy mask and glasses to match was almost over.

Ignoring all common sense, you chased that feeling - quite literally. Caution was thrown to the wind as you darted into the room, your eyes flickered all over the first true, non-vacant room you’d found in here. Empty hospital beds with yellowed, stained linens haphazardly jumbled across their tops lined the walls. It wasn't a pretty sight but right now, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Panning your flashlight around, the warm, washed-out beam glinted off the dusty metal IV stands and carts littered about. Cobwebs spidered the corners of the walls and the rest of the surfaces alike, though their inhabitants seem to have left long ago.

Scanning the room, a few seconds ticked by before you finally found just what you needed, dangling off the foot of the bed by a worn hook. There it was, your holy grail: a brown piece of hardboard and rusted metal alike holding down frayed, yellowed pages. It's the only time you can officially say that you've been happy to see a clipboard - much less, elated and overjoyed to see such a simple piece of office ware. You could practically kiss it and taste sweet, sweet money right about now.

Swiping it from its place, your eyes flitted over the blotched, inky text scrawled on it, silently praying that it would have just what you’d need. The smallest corner of a logo stood in the top right corner, while the rest of the patient information seemed to have been rubbed at or swiped away. And your heart nearly sank in short-lived disappointment. Water stains distorted and warped the paper but your saving grace came in the form of a date and the name of the complex, officially signed at the top of the paper. 

The warm, giddy feeling that had been so fleeting earlier came back with a vengeance that lit up your heart and face alike. This was it! This was just what you needed. Placing it down, you fumbled with the camera clipped onto your belt, the tremble of excitement in your hands doing little to aid you. Snapping a picture of the clipboard with a quick click and a flash of light, you stuffed your saving grace into the weathered backpack you had donned. 

Task one - done. Now to get a good picture of the place and you'd be done. One simple click, one move, and one terribly annoying walk through the forever expansive hallways, and you would be out of here and back in your comfy bed before you knew it. Maybe you'd even get to catch up on a single episode of your favorite show.

Stepping back into a corner where you could find a vantage point, you held onto that flickering flame of hope as you pointed your camera and flashlight alike in the same direction to snap a quick picture of the room. With a simple click and a flash of blinding light, the deed was done. You could finally be out of here. 

Or so you thought. 

A sparse glint caught your eye as the bright flash ebbed away, the shadows returning full force aside from the gleaming, round lights that turned towards you. Your heart skipped a beat as you froze, your breath hitching as a wave of fear sunk the beginning of its talons into you.

No, no. Not a glint, you realized with horror. Six. Six luminous, reflective lenses glowed in the dark as they turned to look right at you. Staring. 

Your heart sank even further into your stomach, your blood running cold, as the corner went dark once again for a fraction of a second before all six glowing dots were back and all were looking right at you.

With a trembling hand, you kept your flashlight lowered. You don’t think you wanted to know what that was. No creature - no living being that big would have six eyes. 

You took a step back. 

Then another.

Another.

The ice-cold sensation of your blood coursing through your veins, your heart erratically beating against your chest harder and harder, kept you from screaming. A creak of the protest from the old hospital bed sounded like a gunshot in the otherwise too-still room as the thing stood and started moving towards you with footsteps that were all too quiet, all too soft for a thing of that caliber.

Whatever breath you had been holding escaped you as it lumbered out of the shadows. An unearthly, sickening gurgle spewed from its maw as if it were choking on its own saliva.

Even through the respirator, the scent of putrid rot and decay wafted from it as it drew closer and closer, your stomach tensed as you gagged, the bile threatened to rise from your stomach as the urge to puke took you by surprise. If you weren’t wearing the respirator, you’re sure you would have - and maybe you would have noticed it in the room sooner if you could've picked up the stench of death.

The urge to run, all instincts screaming at you, pleading and begging you to run for your life simply didn’t work as you stood rooted to the spot as it finally stepped into the trembling, watery beam of light that cut through the speckles of floating dust. A scream of horror caught in your throat as you finally stared up at the abomination's mangled form with wide eyes.

Three heads, all fused together in a webbing of crimson, sinewy membranes moved in sync. Six eyes - six, now unblinking, cloudy eyes settled on you. Despite the milky, glassy sheen to the eyes settled and sunken deep into the heads (or in the raw membranous flesh in the case of one eye on the head to its left) - it tracked every single movement and breath, focused on you with near predatory ease. Five arms hung loose by its side, with two of them being partially fused together in a sick amalgamation. Bits of pallid skin had long ago sloughed off, exposing muscle that had blackened with exposure but somehow not rotted away.

Skull masks and balaclavas covered most of their faces - and you supposed that was a good thing. If the distended, broken jaws of the heads were indication of how it would look underneath, you’re happy declining on seeing what lay below. Drool spilled onto the fabric, or some mystery liquid, bubbling up as it made yet another noise. The motion caused your have to fly up to your covered mouth, your heart and stomach alike retching.

Torn tactical gear adorned the twisted cerberus, blackened with fluids, almost as if it had once had a purpose - to protect. But your mind wasn't there, it was on its existence. The abomination, the chimera, the thing that shouldn’t exist and went against all aspects of nature stood in front of you unmoving for a moment until you took a single step back.

It took a step forward.

Ever so slowly, as if moving through molasses, it drew three scarred hands up, reaching for you.

That was all you needed to take off. Up and out through the hall where you came, your legs strained as you sprinted. Each footstep echoed louder and louder down the void of black and gray you came from, flooding out the sputtered groan from it but you didn’t care. Consequences be damned, you didn't care how loud you were or how much attention you drew. You were better off getting caught by a guard or hell even the police - at least they’d have guns. 

Every inhale scorched your lungs, the fire of fatigue seared deep into every strand of your muscles as you kept on pushing, but you didn’t stop - you couldn’t. Not until you cleared the hallways, skirting through the piles of debris and around the same desolate corridors you had meandered through prior. Not until the crisp, chilled night air finally greeted you as the stars twinkled above, oblivious to the sheer horrors below. 

Not until you finally jammed yourself through the cut hole in the chain link fence, any pain of the metal scraping at your skin dulled out by the adrenaline flowing through your veins, empowering each sprinting step forwards until you were far, far away and back in the safety of your car.

Note to self: Don’t ever trust fliers you find on telephone poles.

This guy better be ready as soon as the sun graced the land again to hand over those five Benjamins. Hopefully he likes his mornings started with pounding knocks to his door and a middle finger to the face. 

જ⁀➴

The darkness echoed with the patter of fading footsteps as the mystery person sprinted away, completely aghast with a look of sheer primal fear painted on their limited, exposed features. 

They didn’t see how his fingers flexed, hands still outstretched in the air, twitching once again at the loss of something warm, something human that he came so close to grasping.

They didn’t see how he stared at where they were, not moving from the spot he stood. Nor did they see his clouded, hazy eyes downturn as he dragged his form back to the bed with great reluctance. 

Nor did they hear the drowned out, garbled words that took all his energy to choke out and force his broken jaws to move. 

“Don’t…. go….”

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Thinking of maybe making this a series! Any feedback is welcome and appreciated! It's been a while since I've written so forgive any mistakes,,,,

Edit: part two has been posted!

[gristlebloom-orchid]

Sympathy for the Unknown

ok not something I ever told Tumblr about but I'm in an rp campaign and I wanted to share my character's concept with you all

So, us TMA fans (and all the other fandoms I post about I guess but MAINLY TMA) absolutely know about the uncanny evil... I mean that's literally what the Stranger is. But I have something else to offer: Jay. Yeah uh, that's the character's name.

Just imagine you're wandering in the wastelands and finally stumble upon a group. A robot, a cyborg, a vampire, a small alien... nothing too peticuliar considering this is a fantasy world. And then there's the surgeon. A limp figure with an ample trench coat, painfully fake hair, leathery skin and a single, staring glass eye, whereas the other eye socket is empty, closed by the sagging fake skin on the right side of its face. Its movements are stiff as it walks to come greet you and lends you its hand to be shaken. It attempts a smile, but all it manages to really make is a grimage, with bumps forming and disappearing from its face. You can't help but notice the low hum that comes out from it. And how perfect, how flawless its voice is when it does speak. A voice without any impurities. It doesn't move its lips to talk. Obviously, it has a voicebox somewhere. But what even decided what it was gonna say? It's simple. Thousands of bugs, crawling onto one another to move around and form what calls itself Jay. One big hivemind.

But Jay isn't some cold and calculating creature. Jay isn't even an it. He's a man. Or so he wishes to be. Back then, he was created with the end goal of making any kind of animal have the same thinking abilities as a man; they've chosen to use bugs for this. I'll spare you the whole process of his creation but after years of process, Jay was born. He was teached everything within the same lab he was born in, everyone's attention on him, always. He was better made back then. His movements were more natural, the faux-skin actually looked lively and his voice box was more nuanced. But that was years ago. And even then, people noticed and his cover quickly got busted, shortly after finally being allowed out with other people. Back then, he didn't mind that much, being hidden away again in the basement of the place. But during his entire existence he was being teached everything, and that was good, he was smart, and his first contact with the actual world was medical school once he was finally ready for it. And then the apocalypse happened. He couldn't renew his "shell" and with the years it just deteriorated, and he found himself in an ever worsening mental state. He was created to be a man, wasn't he? And it's all he ever wanted to be. No, not only. He was set to become a surgeon, to save people's lives. After a few years, he found the group, and they definitely did not help his case. Especially the robot, who doesn't seem to understand that its "main character" attitude is hurting everyone else in the group. But for him it's a little different... it sounds more human than him. It sounds more human than him. And he lives off of validation and praise and just being useful. He's useless in the group. Completely and utterly useless. He can't fight, nobody that he was trained to heal ever got injured seriously enough to need his help and, well, despite him being legitimately the smartest out of the group, nobody listened to him and his advices, even when he is the one that's right. And it dragged him down morally so much.

He wanted to be a man. He's meant to be a man, to be a person, to be a human being. To help others, heal them. But he's not that. He'll never, ever be that. No matter how he wants to be. And he has to bottle it all up. He wasn't made to feel like that. At some point, one of the members, which was the only one he was close to, hugged him for comfort, but as much as he wanted it to help, it didn't do anything. It might just have been a punch and he wouldn't have felt it any differently. And that thought made him want to cry. But he couldn't. He doesn't have eyes. His entire mind aches to scream out its emotions onto his body but his body is not fit for conveying those emotions. The body isn't even part of him. Like the human is just a mask. But what he feels is very much real. It's in his ever growing despair that he decides to leave the group and continue his journey alone. Away from everything, letting his own identity decay away with time until all that's left is a feral swarm of bugs that just roam around the wastelands without a goal. Physically, it's there, but he's gone.

Summary: Uncanny hivemind in a skin suit longs to be human and is put into an indescribable state of misery by his fading identity and his body feeling like something entirely different than what he is :-)

Oh also he's kind of a jerk.

[thatsnotmygunflash]

Okay @simpledontmeanpeachy this is like a week late but I finally got the inspiration I needed to write prompt 25 "It gave me great joy,"

I really fell in love with this and might add to it honestly (or someone else can if they want) it's set in a world where Barry grew up in the foster system and turned out way differently.

Len was nursing his first drink of the night at Saints and Sinners an hour before his crew was suppose to meet up for their weekly check-in when Hartley came waltzing in the front door. Len didn't bother to turn and look, taking a smooth sip of his beer as the young scientist came up to the empty bar.

"Rathaway, little early, even by your standards." Len said in observation. Hartley Rathaway wasn't the newest addition to his Rouges or even the youngest, but he was by far the smartest and most capable out of the lot. They had worked three big jobs together in the past year and a half and besides his sister, he was the only one Len felt gave it to him straight and pulled his weight enough for it to mean anything to Len. He wouldn't call them friends, but they were friendly. Not friendly enough, however, for Hartley to show up without an agenda.

"I wanted a chance to speak privately before the rest of the crew show up,"

"About?" Len assumed it would be business Hartley wanted to discuss but this must be something he didn't want the rest of the crew to know about yet.

"You heard about the new player in town, right?"

How could he not, when it was all anyone in the city wanted to talk about lately.

"The Chemist?" At Hartley's nod of confirmation Len tilted his chin down in understanding. "I've heard whispers, why?"

"He approached me last night, said he needed a little tech support, willing to pay more than well for my time too."

"Did you take the job?" Len had never cared about Hartley's freelance work before, unless it directly effected Len's own timetable, but they had never had issues with scheduling before. Len made sure of it.

"You're not asking the important questions, Snart."

"If you have something to say, Rathaway, say it." Len didn't enjoy the condescending smirk painted on Hartley's face and he definitely didn't like a single word that came next.

"He's planning on hitting the Federal Reserve, the same one you're planning on hitting in two months. Which wouldn't be a problem for you, if he wasn't planning on making his move next week."

"Next week." Next week. Next. Week. There was no way. The Chemist had just hit First National two weeks ago. He couldn't be that reckless, especially when the cops and the papers had painted him to be some kind of evil-mastermind. Len had been casing the Reserve himself everyday for four months, there was no way he would have missed another thief doing the same.

"Yep. He doesn't even have a crew either. Plans to do it all by himself. Seems like kind of a loner. Pretty though. And smart. Meta too, I think. Full package really."

"You think he can pull it off." Len didn't need the snort of agreement Hartley let out to let him know he was right. Hartley was not an easily impressed man, which meant this Chemist was someone to be on guard with.

"Oh, definitely. Especially with my help covering his tracks, but, because I knew he'd end up iced for fucking with your job, I convinced him to come here tonight to talk to you about joining the Rouges."

Hartley had told a man who enjoyed explosives where his entire crew was meeting tonight. The nerve of this kid.

"And you just expected me to be okay with that?"

"Well, obviously." Hartley scoffed, waving a dismissive hand in the air when he saw Len's icy glare. "I thought you'd agree it couldn't hurt to have other smart and pretty people around to look at. You should have seen his face when I told him I worked for you. It gave me great joy. Watching him go from obnoxiously cocky to painfully desperate just at the sound of your name. I think you have a fan."

A fan. A fan. The Chemist was a fan. Good lord.

"You better pray this works out in our favor, Rathaway, or it's your ass."

"I'm not worried." Hartley shrugged carelessly, his smirk turning into something like delight when the door opened behind them.

"And why's that?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Hartley replied, pointing a finger behind Len's shoulder.

"Wha-" Len turned to see who the new comer was, losing his voice and the ability to move when he caught sight of an unmistakably familiar face. Len couldn't believe what he was seeing. Barry Allen, the flirty barista from the coffee shop Len had been using as cover for his stakeouts of the Reserve was standing just three feet in front of him. The same Barry Allen that he had taken home with him five nights ago. The same Barry Allen that had not taken Len's one night stand policy well.

Barry gave a lazy wave, not bothering to hide the challenge in his eyes or the smugness coating his voice.

"Hey Lenny. Miss me?"

[nosomatsu]

Osomatsu's idea of a fun day out wasn't something most others would consider 'proper'. Showing people around or introducing someone new to their new neighbors would probably be the correct way to go here -- but the eldest Matsuno son wasn't most others. No, he was CRAZY irresponsible -- and honestly, showing Hachi around after she'd moved into Akatsuka alley hadn't even occurred to him. The first thing that DID occur was to bring her somewhere she might have fun, she seemed like such a nervous and strange kid -- she just needs to loosen up!

But instead of offering to go to a theme park, or just lunch or something, he'd settled on dragging her along to horse racing. ( Hey, at least it wasn't pachinko, right? ) It was something that he enjoyed, and maybe she would too -- teenagers love illegal betting, right? He knows he sure did when he was her age! And as long as she used the anonymous booth, it probably wouldn't be an issue. Not really the smartest thing to do, or the best first impression to make, though, is it? Oh, well. If she didn't wanna gamble a little, then that's fine -- she'd probably still like to watch the horses, too.

As they waited in line, he'd figured that she would have known what they were here for-- but as it turns out, that simply wasn't the case. It'd taken her til they were already in line for a betting ticket booth for her to even ask what was going on, and with how frightened she sounded, he could only turn and look at her, confused. One eyebrow raised at her, a kind of blank stare -- but he does answer question, albeit in a very casual manner.

"Uh, yeah. Wasn't that obvious? I thought for sure you knew what was going on... Why're you so surprised?" A cheeky grin, lighthearted laugh -- he gives her a little jostle with his left hand, while his right rubs under his nose. "Oh, cmon now! Relaaaax!! You're DEFINITELY not old enough to be betting, but you can be here cause I'm an adult! I just brought you along because I figured you'd wanna bet! Or, maybe you'd just like to watch horses or something."

He turns back to face the ticketbooth, a measley amount of yen in his hands as he steps forward. Just two more people before him -- and on his heel, he swivels around and hands Hachi a few dollars of money to bet on too. That grin of his only widened, eyes closing as he smiled so wide -- a carefree, happy smile.

"Since there's no real people working these booths, you can bet anonymously if you really want to! If you don't, though , then uh -- use that money to get something to eat, or something." He just kind of waves her off, making the motion with his hands -- then turns on his heel when he sees the last person shuffle forward.

"You know," he says, as he inputs his betting information into the booth. He didn't even have to look at the buttons as he input information, clearly having done this MANY, MANY times, "I didn't even realize your name meant lucky til ya brought it up! That's pretty awesome! But, I wonder if that means you might actually BE good luck... Guess we'll see, haha!"

..... did .... he completely ignore her saying she's just normal? Uh, yeah, he did -- or seems like it might've just gone in one ear and out the other. Still, when he finishes, he makes room for her to step up to the booth if she so desired.

"You wanna bet? I can totally cover for you if you do! Don't wooooorrry, you won't get in any trouble or anything -- I promise!" He waggles the betting ticket in the air, as if to emphasize it's existence. He's waiting for you, Hachi! Give em an answer!

@nosomatsu // starter.

One thing about Hachi is that if she's asked to go along somewhere, she'll go. It's the agreeable thing to do! So when her idle chatter with her around-the-corner neighbour turns into an invite, she agrees without much thought. And really, Osomatsu seems like a nice enough guy despite how awkward she worries her first impression had been (she'd been kind of hoping one of his parents would answer the door instead when she came to introduce herself--she's better with the older crowd, you put her with a 20something and she feels immediately inadequate and kind of lame, like she's bothering them just by existing in their space--he'd been nicer than expected, though! she feels kind of bad for assuming he'd be rude).

Anyway, about 10 minutes into the walk it occurs to Hachi that she has no idea where they're going, but at this point it feels too awkward to ask (and when she tries to imagine doing so, her mind just supplies her with about 6 separate, equally devastatingly exasperated ways he might respond). No, she definitely missed the window on this one. Luckily, Osomatsu's steps slow to a crawl as they enter a crowded building, and as they queue up for... well, something, Hachi takes the time to look around and strain her ears to listen for clues about what exactly that something is.

Hmm. Scoreboards, tracks, race numbers, betting amounts, whoa, some really weird names--hold on. Pause. Rewind. Replay at half speed. Pause again. Zoom. Enhance. Colour correct. Remove noise. Betting amounts? As in, money?

"Heeh--ah--um...?!" You can pinpoint the exact moment realization strikes her--the leisurely shift of her facial features (politely curious, puzzled, back and forth between amusement and surprise depending on what name she's looking at) cleaves abruptly in two, replaced with an expression of dawning shock and horror beneath it. Lightning strikes, thunder rumbles [only in her head]. She turns to Osomatsu in small, slightly jittery increments, pointing limply to one of the places detailing odds that she can't make heads or tails of. "O-so-mat-su-san, is this horse betting? Like, gambling...?" The last word is spoken with such conspiratorial quietness that it actually loops right back around to being conspicuous somehow. Hachi's head whips around nervously, struck with the sudden fear that she's about to be caught out in a sting operation any second, or maybe star in some impromptu after-school special about underage gambling. The lead role?! But I'm Girl B! "Am I allowed to be here?! No, more importantly--"

More importantlyyy, why is this the activity we're doing?! Osomatsu-saaaan?! Does she seem like a big gambler? She guesses gamblers can be anyone--and actually, it's pretty progressive and open-minded of him to think a terminally dorky teenage girl is some sort of high-roller at the tracks, but c'mon! Or, wait, is it because of that...?

Over the course of her turbulent thoughts she's changed expressions several more times (stricken, thoughtful, admiring, back to stricken, then sudden understanding), head tipping from one side to the other. Finally, she turns back to face Osomatsu (hopefully he didn't say anything important while she was going on that face journey), expression too earnestly serious by half for the situation she is actually in right now.

"A--hh... is it because of my name...?" Eight is meant to denote good fortune, isn't it? That's right, something about the way the kanji for it flares out at the bottom... She holds up a palm, and then ducks her head a little with a nervous laugh (the self-imposed weight of the world on her shoulders). "Um, I don't know if my luck is that strong, though... I think it's about average, you know? ...Sorry to say it at this point."

[mr-voorhees-husband]

I loved your hc and fic so much, Could I request a short fic of Tssm!Quentin and the reader going on a lil date :D

YES YESYEYSYSEYS

yes. 100% 1000%

Partially for myself because I wanna be Quentin's gossip partner but I can re-write it to be more romantic if you so desire my friend (also this was written on mobile too, so it will be properly formatted later i promise)

Warnings: a lil body horror in Quentin's story?, Reader + Quentin go on a cute date and do.. idk date things (man I'm aroace idk how dates work)

Reader - Mostly gender neutral but Quentin uses masc compliments

"What happened to 'hanging low'?"

Quentin scoffed at your question, dismissing it with one of his signature smirks. For someone who had the smartest person in the city as his bestfriend, he didn't make the smartest decsions sometimes. His ego wouldn't let him and he was lucky you liked that about him. If you didn't, Quentin would be minus a partner. "Please, Mysterio never hides, especially not when it comes to bringing his handsome partner on a date, my love."

"Mhm," You hummed, taking a sip of the expensive champagne he'd bought, "and what will the wonderful Mysterio do if Spider-man happens to crash our date?"

"Ah-" Quentin got a look on his face, an odd flurry of panic and concern. He'd obviously not thought of it, and it had you biting back a smile from the otherside of the table. It'd been his idea, or rather, his insisting that ended you two in this high end restaurant. It really was nice, expensive as all hell, but nice nonetheless. You were lucky you talked him out of going to another one down the street, a semi-formal dress code was much more appealing than a black-tie one. "Well- he'd beat him, and take his date to a much better restaurant."

"You mean like how you beat him last night?" You were teasing, of course. Quentin could tell from a mile away when you had that glint in your eyes that you didn't mean harm. He flushed with a pout, before clearing his throat and sitting up straighter.

"That was Shocker's fault, he shot at me." You nodded at his words, deciding against pointing out how it was in fact Quentin who got in the way of the blast. "Oh- did I tell you about what happened before the fight?"

That was another thing you adored about you villainous actor, he gossiped. So much it wasn't funny, but oh, it was more than just a little entertaining. Being his partner meant you were told everything he knew... which meant you basically knew everything about the Sinister Eleven.

It'd probably be best if you didn't meet them at this point, anyway. You don't think you could look Sandman in the eyes after learning how his clothes work...

"So, Flint, O'hirn, Adrian, and Mason are all in the like.. living room area?" You raised an eyebrow and he waved his hand, something, you learned, he did often. "Not important, anyway. You know how Rhino can take off the chest and pelvis piece, right?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, you told me." You had to think about it for a moment, but he most definitely had told you at some point.

"He'd taken off his chest piece because he needed to cool down, so he's laying on his and Ox's designated area, cooling down." Quentin was in it now, hands moving as he talked. You'd have to start making a list of all the things you liked about him, you realized. How animated he was would definitely be one of the top 5. "Sandman goes over, and says something along the lines of 'do you think i can fit in the rest of the armor?' So of course Alex wants to see if he can."

"Oh god."

"It gets worse." Quentin's smile was on the edge of being sadistic, eyes lit up as if this was the funniest thing in the world. "Sandman slips into the armor, and its all fine and dandy. Until he realizing, he, for some reason, is moving."

"No. Please don't tell me he-?"

"It took them two hours to sort him out of Rhino's tissue." You cringed, the little details given being enough to give you the full picture. Quentin giggled like an insane person, and you couldn't help but chuckle in response. "I mean- why would they even thing that was a good idea?"

"Aren't these the same two guys that Spidey used to beat on a daily basis back before Mysterio?" His nod had you shaking your head in disbelief. "Jesus you'd expect them to know better."

"Exactly!" Quentin's sudden raise in volume had people looking your direction, but you just glared in response. So your boyfriend was loud, so he could be a bit chaotic. So what? That didn't mean they could say anything, especially not while you were here.

A blissful sigh had you looking back at him, your eyes finding his in a stare that had you blushing. Another thing you liked about him, you noted, was how he looked at you. Like you were some kind of deity. It was equal parts embarrassing and adorable. "What?"

"I like it when you get angry for me." Quentin reached over, smirking like the little stuck-up idiot (affectionate) he was, and picking you hand up in his own. "It makes me happy I found someone to brag about."

"Wow," you flushed, chuckling, "that's a hell of a change of pace."

Quentin smiled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he downright purred his next words. "Its why you love me."

With a roll of your eyes, despite how your heart was fluttering and your face rivaled the color of a peach, you scoffed.

"That and a couple 100 other reasons," You pulled his own hand to you, flipping the script as you kissed the ring finger knuckle, "my love."

[xpeachesncream]

2AM | one shot

summary: just like yoongi says - if namjoon wasn’t gonna act on his feelings for you, then why couldn’t you? even if that meant sliding into namjoon’s DMs.

pairing: reader x namjoon

genre: college au | sprinkle of fluff, smut

words: 3.8k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, club scene, alcohol consumption, dancing/grinding, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, breast play, hickeys, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, ass smacking, doggy style, hair pulling, headboard knocking against the wall and head to the mattress type of rough sex, pillow to the face type of loud sex, backshots, namjoon is a kind fella though and really respects you

note: i’ve been hearing namjoon is/has become people’s bias wrecker lately..... 🤪 this is for you. i’ve tried to make this as realistic and relatable as possible. pls excuse any errors!

The club was awfully packed tonight, you and your friends and a bunch of all your mutual friends tightly pushed against one corner of the club, celebrating whoever's birthday it was - you couldn't fucking remember. You were just there because you knew of the person, but your friends still dragged you out to have a good time.

And, God, you were drunk. You were having a good time. You were already drunk before the club, having pissed on the sidewalk with Yoongi covering you with his jacket while Jin pissed next to you in the alley since there were no bathrooms open to the public at this time.

"Namjoon is here!" You hear Yoongi yell and nudge you. Namjoon had always had a crush on you. You two were friends, had a lot of mutual friends, but it was nothing more of a hi and bye in passing on campus. Occasional small talk, nothing more, nothing less. But, it didn't mean you didn't think he was attractive. Standing almost at 6 ft tall, the man was buff in all the right places and had a smile that could kill from miles away. You just never pressed on it because Namjoon never pressed on it. People teased him about his silly crush on you but he never took it further. He'd call you the prettiest girl he'd ever seen on campus, leaving anonymous comments on the campus' compliment board talking about how your smile was the best one he's ever seen. Everyone knew it was Kim Namjoon. But it was just a silly crush after all, right?

Tonight though, you were thinking of doing other things. Maybe it was this dick drought you had been in, maybe it was the alcohol heightening your attraction to him. Whatever the fuck it was, you wanted it and you were down.

"Aye!" Namjoon comes over to Yoongi and Jin, giving them their daps and hugs before he makes his way over to you. "What's up, Y/N?" He pulls you into a tight hug. 

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here." You chuckled.

"Why not? I like to have fun every so often, too." You nod. It's not like Namjoon hated going out, but he did have a preference of staying in than being at the club. He wasn't at every outing or club event. He'd make it to some if it was really important to his friends, but he'd usually skip out and he'd be teased about it the following week. You liked that about him; that he wasn't the type to be a partier or spend his free time chugging on alcohol. He was one of the smartest guys on campus who was pretty well known and he carried himself well. Dude could run for president and he’d have everyone’s votes, no cap.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you're glad I'm here." He joked with that smile of his, dimples piercing his cheeks before he continued his rounds of hello's.

"Well, I'm glad you're here." Jin fluttered his eyelashes as he swung back and forth, mocking your tone in tiny causing Yoongi to laugh.

"Fuck off, Seokjin." You shove him.

"Why don't you finally do something about it? You know he likes you.”

"Why does it have to be me?"

"Why can't it be you?" Yoongi asked. "Does the dude always have to make a move?"

"Yeah, and besides, what if he's only doing that because he respects you and thinks you don't like him like that?" Jin butted in.

"I didn't asked to be attacked." Yoongi shrugged.

"Just saying. It doesn't have to be on Namjoon. Maybe he's waiting on you. Don't slip up, fool." He jokes as you shake your head, leading your friends to the bar for another drink to keep your drunkness alive. Yoongi orders three shots of nasty ass Jameson, but you take it anyways because he's your homeboy and the shit was free. He asks for another round, which you almost pass on but you catch sight of your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook.

"Pass it." Yoongi smirks as he passes you another shot glass. You take it to the neck with ease, deciding you'd deal with consequences later. You just wanted to have your fun.

"Hey." Jungkook wraps his arms around you, causing you to shrug him off and push his arms away.

"Jungkook, stop." You used to hate him. You really used to despise the guy, but it had gotten so tiring that you eventually got over it and moved on. You had a good relationship after all, you had a great freshman year even if you started off college in a relationship. But, he didn't want it after a year and a half. He wanted his college freedom, wanted to explore, wanted to get to know the incoming freshmen girls and transfers. So, he eventually stopped trying and that killed you.

But myyyy, have the tables turned. Jungkook wanted you back badly even though you've made it blatantly obvious you were over him.

"Dance with me tonight? You look good." He looks at you up and down, eyeing the tight mini skirt and crop top you had on.

"Maybe.” You look at him like he was crazy. “I'm busy."

"With who?"

"Not with you."

"Come on, baby. Please." Obviously drunk and out of this mind.

"Ew, don't call me that Jungkook. I am not your baby."

"Aw come on, you’ll always be though." He smiles, hugging you once more.

"You got a whole line up, remember? Stop worrying about me." You scoff as you shove him aside, making your way back to your friends.

"The fuck was that about?"

"Jungkook being Jungkook."

"He definitely wants to have his cake and eat it, too."

"Well, that's not gonna fly with me. He needs to go."

"Good. Come on, let's go dance. Maybe Namjoon will come since you don’t wanna do it. Acting all scared and shit." 

“Shut up, Yoongi. Just walk.” You laugh. Yoongi nods towards some free space, Jin already welcoming a lady friend onto his lap for a dance. You playfully dance around with Yoongi for a little before you feel him passing you off to pretty boy Park Jimin. You loved dancing with Jimin because lord knows he knew a thing or two about rhythm more than most of these men in the club. Including your friends.

Heh, just kidding.

After a song or two, the latest shots are starting to make their way through your veins, your skin feeling hot and your balance being a little thrown off. Nothing you couldn't handle though, you still knew how to compose yourself well and keep it together.

"Enjoying yourself?" You hear Namjoon come from behind you as you had been standing around by the railings, catching a breather after Jimin had broke you off to those two songs, working up a damn sweat.

"Yeah, are you?" You turn to face him as your arms hung loosely over the railing.

"I meaaaan, I think it could be better." He sips on his drink.

"Stop babysitting your drink, Namjoon." You playfully nudge him.

"I'm not babysitting, I'm just savoring this expensive drink." You roll your eyes and laugh. You watch as he takes another sip, your hand keeping his glass tilted from the end until there's nothing left for him to drink.

"There, that's better."

"You're a bad influence."

"No, I'm not."

"You are. Pretty, and a bad influence." He adds, chuckling while licking his bottom lip. It's silent for a minute as he's eyeing the crowd in front of you, watching people sloppily dance on each other or tongue each other down. Either or, everyone was drunk and feeling up on somebody.

Everyone besides you two.

"Fuck it, let's dance." He suddenly says, grabbing your hand and leading the way to the nearest empty space. He backs himself against the wall, grabbing you by the waist to throw your ass back on him. He grips you tightly as you work him, his hips moving in tandem with yours. If you weren't mistaken, you could feel this entire thing soaking your panties by the minute. The way he had taken initiative and grabbed your hand the way that he did. The way he backed himself against the wall and shoved you onto his crotch area.

You didn't know Namjoon had it in him after he had been shying away from his crush on you. Park Jimin was sliding down the dance pyramid, with Kim Namjoon quickly climbing his way to the top.

Something so innocent had turned intimate pretty quick, your body backed against his now as you slowly worked your hips to Rossi's All I Want, your hand grabbing around his neck. You felt his breath against your skin, his eyes locked on you and only you.

After a couple of dances, you turned to him, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He gave you a big, toothless smile, his dimples becoming a huge weakness for you. You being the tease that you are, gave him a kiss on the cheek before you started to pull away from his grip.

"Oh, so it's like that?" He jokes as he bites on his bottom lip, his hands slowly slipping down your wrists the more you pull away.

"I don't know, is it?"

"You tell me. Are you going to hit me up to kick it?"

"We'll see." You smirk at him before walking towards your friends, his tongue pressed against his cheek as he watches your hips sway from side to side. After tonight, you knew you wanted Namjoon and he was the goal. No if's, and's or but's.

You and your friends call it a night by the time the club is almost coming to a close. Everyone is rushing to head out and catch their Ubers, but you see no Namjoon in sight. He must have disappeared sometime during the night, and you were too busy with your friends to notice. Which, is a fucking bummer because you wanted to see him before you left, hoping it could flourish into something more than just the dances you shared with him tonight.

You just had to be a tease.

Getting home, you're a little uneasy because you're stuck on the fact that you want something more out of the night and you couldn't get that. You hesitated quite a few times, picking up your phone, then throwing it back onto your bed. Your roommate hadn't gotten home yet, the loneliness kicking in quick.

Fuck it!

You shake your head and grow some balls to hit up Namjoon to see what he was up to at damn near 2AM.

But sike, your ass doesn't even have his number.

"What the fuck, Y/N!" You groan to yourself, quickly pulling up your group chat w/ Yoongi and Jin before you change your mind.

[y/n] 1:52am: ANYBODY HAVE NAMJOON'S NUMBER???

Pure silence for the next 5 minutes.

[y/n] 1:58am: i know none of you two are getting some tonight, where tf are you!

Some more silence.

"For fuck's sake, guys." You whined as you pulled up Namjoon's IG page. Were you really gonna do this? Were you really gonna slip yourself into his DMs?

Absolutely the fuck yes.

x_ynbaby: hi

namjoooonie: :) look who it is

x_ynbaby: sorry this prob looks stupid as fuck but i just realized i didnt have your number

namjoooonie: no biggie. at least ill be able to say y/n slid in my dm's first

x_ynbaby: pls dont start

namjoooonie: how can i help you?

x_ynbaby: what are you up to?

namjoooonie: im about to get ready for bed just like you should be doing

x_ynbaby: excuse you, im grown. i can go to bed when i want lol

namjoooonie: you're grown, ey?

x_ynbaby: yeah i am

namjoooonie: cool, come show me here?

x_ynbaby: kim namjoon, what is that supposed to mean

namjoooonie: it means you come over and watch something with me that isnt pg-13, duh? take it or leave it cutie, ive got some good comedy stand-ups on my list

x_ynbaby: lol send me the address

You laughed out loud. He was so frustratingly cute that you found yourself throwing on your jacket and heading back out to grab an Uber to his place not too far from yours. His roommate was home, but he had been locked up in his room the entire time Namjoon had gotten back. He figured he was already sound asleep, so he had you quietly come up the steps, his hand holding onto yours as you tippy-toed past his roommate's door.

"Fuck, finally. What a journey." He says, shutting his door.

"You're so dramatic."

"Says the one who was like we'll see." He mocks you, batting his eyelashes and tilting his head to the side.

"Shut up. Where's your list of comedy stand-ups, huh?" He plops on his bed, patting the empty space next to him.

"Right here." He opens his macbook. "This is where all the magic happens."

"Ah, yes. The comedy stand-ups and the porn, right?"

"Yup, especially the porn." You laugh as you playfully shove him aside. He actually begins to play Dave Chapelle's Sticks and Stones, his cute laugh already erupting and echoing throughout his room. You couldn't help but laugh yourself, your body sinking closer to his. Feeling his body against yours had the heat pooling in your core, wanting more from him while you were here. "I can't believe he—" He turns to look at you, your gaze still kept on him. "What?"

"Namjoon, I know this isn't the only thing you were thinking about tonight." You say, almost at a whisper.

"It's not, but I don't wanna disrespect you in any way." He says, in typical Namjoon fashion. You shake your head, your hand on his chest as you slightly push yourself up.

"Handle me." He simply looks at you as you nod. "Handle me like you would, all bullshit aside." He hesitates a bit, his face edging closer to yours.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. We've established that we're grown, right? Show me." You say breathily. As soon as it slips your mouth, Namjoon shoves his laptop aside to wrap his strong arms around you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. He gently lays you on his bed as he keeps his lips locked onto yours. The kiss becomes messy, your tongue continuously pushing against his, the sounds of wet kisses now filling his room. You moan into his mouth as he fiddles to remove your joggers, catching a glimpse of him finally removing them and tossing it across his neatly organized room. You pulled away for a quick second to remove his shirt before he removed yours, your hands trailing down his beautiful chest.

"Fuck, taking this off." He says, aggressively unhooking your bra and throwing it off to the side to be an eyesore along with your sweats lying on the floor. You giggle as he begins to kiss down your neck and jawline, then welcoming himself to your breasts. He plays with your nipples, his thumb toying with it and gently pinching. You let out a hiss as you feel his tongue flicking around your nipples one by one, his breath causing cold air to linger on them. You watch as he begins to suck on the skin of your breasts, leaving purple-ish marks on either boob.

"Ohhhhshit." You bite onto your bottom lip, so fucking turned on by him and his ways. He makes his way down to your panties, giving your clothed clit a kiss before shoving your panties aside and licking a strip upwards. "Ahhhhh, Namjoon." You breathe.

"Uh huh?" He says, lowering his mouth onto your clit, sucking as his tongue caressed it slowly at the same time. His mouth and tongue are continuing to work in tandem while he slips in two digits, working them in and out to stretch you out.

"Yeah, like that." You moan, your hand is gripping his hair tightly as you jut your hip upwards. Namjoon does a good job holding you down, even as your high approaches. "Ughhhhhhgggfuck!" Your words mesh together as you try to jut your hips upwards once more before you feel yourself unraveling under his grip. You tremble as you coat his fingers, moaning loudly and not giving a damn about his sleeping roommate anymore.

"Shhh, my roommate." He chuckles as he towers over you, careful not to put all his body weight on yours.

"I'm sorry but, gohhhhd." You whine. "Please just fuck me, I wanna feel you." He bites onto his bottom lip, watching you twirl your tongue around his wet digits and suck on them, giving yourself a good taste of your pussy.

"Stop." He tilts his head back and shakes his head. "You're gonna make me cum just doing that."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I haven't gotten to feel you, yet. That's what." He says as he removes his beautifully long and thick hardened member from his boxers, his sweats dropping to the floor from his ankles. He pumps himself a few times before he taps it against your folds, teasing you with his tip as he slides it up and down.

"Namjoon, I swear—" You arch your back, feining for more.

"You swear, or what?" He asks playfully, his tip the first to slowly enter inside of you. Your breathing hitches the deeper he goes in, literally having you question whether or not you were gonna be able to take him. "You okay?" You nod silently as you try to position yourself comfortably on him, Namjoon letting out a small groan as he feels you fully envelope him from wall to wall. He starts slow, making sure you were comfortable before he begins to pick up his pace. You grip the sheets as he begins to get aggressive with you, his headboard endlessly knocking on his wall.

He apparently doesn't give a fuck about his roommate either. And here he was, shushing you.

You begin to moan his name loudly, feeling the high approaching you once again.

"Y/N." He whispers, chuckling. He [politely] throws his pillow onto your head, signaling for you to hold onto it and scream into it if need be. Which, you do. "Fuuuck Y/N, you're so hot." He moans under his breath as his thrusts are fast, the sound of skin pounding against skin bouncing off of his walls.

"Joon, I'm cumming again." You moan into the pillow as he slows his thrusts for you, letting out breathy moans as he feels you constricting around him.

"Turn around." He says, you quickly obeying, shooting your ass up with your face down. You wiggle your ass onto his dick, causing him to slightly hiss. He inserts his tip in but allows you to sink onto him yourself. "Godddddamn." He moans as you begin to move your body up and down on his dick, cream lathering the top of it like icing. He gives your ass a good smack, the heat pooling to the area quickly. One hand grips your hips, while the other grips your hair and slightly tugs on it as he takes control and thrusts into you.

"Fuck! Namjoon." You groan as he pulls your hair. Your ass is bouncing off of him, the pain turning into pleasure. Your mouth is agape, no sounds being able to escape as he pounds into you.

"Shit Y/N, I'm gonna cum. Where do you want me to cum?"

"Backshot." You simply say, Joon fully understanding. With the last couple of thrusts, you find yourself constricting around him again, body getting weak and trembling back down into the sheets. His hand pushes your head into the mattress while the other pulls out and pumps his hardened dick, lathering your back in his load. You feel him almost collapse onto you, his hand holding onto your hip as he regulates his breathing.

"Fuck, I am so sorry." He says, grabbing a tissue to wipe your back.

"Why are you sorry?" You laugh as you turn over afterwards.

"It just makes me feel bad, I feel like I'm marking my territory or something."

"I meaaaaaaan." You say, Namjoon's eyes going straight to your breasts.

"Agh fuck, Y/N." He says, feeling bad as he slips on his clothes before handing you yours.

"It's not a big deal.

"I just want you to know that I do value you more than just my territory or whatever that means." He shakes his head. "Fuck, I just mean I value you more than that, okay?" You giggle.

"You're fine, Joon." He smiles toothlessly as he nods, feeling accomplished having gotten his point across.

"So, more comedy stand ups?"

"Boy, you wore me out. I'm going to sleep."

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back, gonna grab us water. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you." You smile as he shuts his door. You check your phone from your night stand seeing that your friends had finally texted you back.

[yoongi] 2:47am: woops, shit hahahah did you still need it?

[yoongi] 2:47am: and fuck off ok, what if i was getting some?

[jin] 2:49am: he's not. we're not. we just finished playing phasmaphobia thats why we responded late

[yoongi] 2:49am: youre an ass kisser seokjin

[jin] 2:50am: i think y/n is already at namjoons

[yoongi] 2:51am: better tell us about it tomorrow bro @ y/n

[jin] 2:52am: have fun be safe

[y/n] 3:30am: you guys get home from the club and play phasmaphobia? thats why you guys get none

[jin] 3:31am: r u at namjoons or not, this wasnt even about us

[y/n] 3:32am: yes and just got dicked down like the world was ending tomorrow

[yoongi] 3:33am: .........

[yoongi] 3:33am: .......................

[jin] 3:34am: 'whyyyyy does it have to be me' she said

[jin] 3:34am: dick mustve gotten your tongue now

[y/n] 3:35am: Error: 404. This number could not be reached at this time. Try again later.

[jin] 3:36am: lmfao weak, you'll hear from us later today missy

You chuckled to yourself as you heard Namjoon nearing the door. Suddenly, you hear another door open, his roommate's voice faintly echoing in the hallway.

"Dude, can you and your girl be any louder?"

"Sorry Hobi, I thought you were asleep."

"That's the thing, I was." Namjoon laughs.

"Oh shit, my bad. We'll keep it down next time." You watched as he nodded before closing the door. You laughed silently as he handed you a water bottle, scooting himself next to you.

"Yeah Namjoon, be quiet next time."

"Me? You had a pillow and you were still loud."

"Not my fault. Didn't even know you had it in you." You teased.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" He scoffed before gently tickling you.

"It's just, I thought you were forgetting about your little crush on me."

"Want me to show you again?"

"I'm sleep, bye." You laughed as you turned over, your ass comfortably touching his leg while he laid next to you and watched his show.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Black Magic" *Part 3*

Alright y'all this took me ALL day to write [the entire rest of the story] and it took me an hour and a half to just edit this chapter. So I HOPE you like it. I had to find a breaking point it was getting too long, but the next chapter is coming like...maybe 30 minutes.

EEK!!!

Part 4

Part 2

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@milkshqke

@gibbs274

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@aprildecker-blog

@lolliepopsicle

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@omgsuperstarg

@stars-trash-18

@objection-argumentative

@madamsnape921

-------

After saying goodbye to Maria and the kids Rafael took your hand and you both got in another Uber he had called.

“So where to now?” You asked.

“Well we're going to need somewhere to get this food,” he smiled. “So I'm taking you to my favorite place in the city,”

Soon enough the Uber pulled up in front of Central park. We both got out and walked to the front entrance.

“Central Park is your favorite place in the city?” You asked. “Kind of basic but okay,” you teased.

“Shut up,” he laughed, punching you in the arm playfully. “Wait until you see what part of Central Park.” He took your hand and you walked for a bit until you came across a fountain.

“I mean it's gorgeous but still kind of basic,” you teased some more.

“This is where we're eating lunch carino,” he told you. “The surprise comes after,”

You set up camp on the edge of the fountain and spread out the food. It was enough for a feast. Luckily Maria had included napkins, plates , silverware and sneakily enough she snuck in an old blanket that you could spread out.

“Oh my god.. this is so good,” You said in between mouthfuls of food.

“I told you,” he laughed through a mouthful of his own food.

“No like you don't understand. I've never had food this good,” You insisted.

“Oh no? The fancy lunches from work, not your style?” He smirked.

You stopped eating for a second. Had he really noticed that you took home whatever food the bigwigs never finished? It was kind of a detail that you never had guessed that he would even pay attention to.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” You innocently replied.

“Sureee…” Rafael nodded with a smile.

“I'm sorry, please don't fire me,” You begged.

“Fire you? I think it's adorable. Trust me I would do the same thing back in my law school days when I had nothing,” He patted your shoulder.

“God do I hear that,” You agreed.

“Wait so you have nothing?” Rafael asked, concerned.

“What? No! Kind of…..I have enough.” You assured him.” It's not like I'm homeless or anything.” Oh my God this is getting worse. “I just mean like, back when I was in college I had even less than I have now.”

“Oh you went to college?” Rafael asked.

“Wow okay counselor I see where the snobbishness is coming back,” You acted offended. And you actually kind of were.

"Oh no no no, mi amor,” He put a hand on your knee, scared he had offended you. “Please don't think that I would ever think down of you. I think you are the most beautiful, smartest caring person in the world.”

He didn't even know you. That was definitely the spell. You sadly shrugged” it's fine,”

“No no what I meant.. I don't know I don't know what I meant,” He shook his head, blushing.

“Yeah you do it's fine you can say it Rafael I'm not going to get offended,” You assured him.

“I just meant... I don't know, or don't understand why somebody with a college degree would be temping, instead of using their degree for a job in their field. I seriously doubt you went to college for temping,”

“Well I don't know if you remember this since it was eons ago before you had money but living in New York is quite expensive.” You half laughed. "And when you have student loans to pay you kind of have to take what you can get even if it's not in your ‘field’,”

“I get it,” He nodded. “I totally get where you're coming from. I'm so sorry I offended you,”

“You know before today I would have stomped off and written you off as just the snob pompous asshole that I thought you were. But after seeing where you came from I know you really mean that,” You smiled.

“So…” he hoped to change the subject. “What exactly is your degree in? Something law related I assume?”

“Why do you assume that?”

“Well.. usually the people that apply to be my intern are only interested in kissing my ass and getting ahead in the lawyer corporate world. But you haven't done that.. Yet,” He raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Oh.. yeah.”. you look down at the ground nervously.

“What are you going to kiss my ass now? Because I'll gladly let you do it,” He smiled cheekily.

“No no!” You waved your hands. “I mean that would be nice but--I mean no, what?” You were flustered.

“You're adorable when you're flustered,” He rubbed your bright red cheeks.

“Haha,” you pushed a hair behind your ear. You thought to yourself “Well he's not going to remember any of this anyway so you might as well tell him the truth,”

“Truth is.. I may or may not have manipulated the system to beat out those other snobby law students to get this job,” You admitted, still looking down.

“Really…?” He looked at you suspiciously. “...And why’s that?

“...Because I saw your picture on the file and I thought you were gorgeous and I wanted to see that face everyday,” You blushed intensely, still looking at the ground, not able to tell him in his face..

There was a very long pause and then he put a hand on yours. You slowly looked up at him and he was smiling cutely.

“That is the most adorable thing I've ever heard in my life,” He grinned.

“Really? You think so?” Well obviously he thought so he was programmed to think whatever you did for the adorable duh.

“Yeah I don't think I've ever had a woman try that hard to get my attention. Or want to see me that much, or even think that highly of me,” He grinned.

“I mean it's not really thinking highly of you, just that you’re really attractive,” You laughed.

“Right, of course,” He was blushing even more.

“And that was even before I saw your butt!” You laughed without thinking.. But he really did have the best ass you've ever seen in your entire life. Everyday you walked into that office you just wanted to take a bite of it.

Rafael choked on his food. “I um…” His face was red hot now.. “Thank you?”

“Anyway…” He tried to steer the conversation away from his butt. “You avoided the question,”

“What question?” You asked. Completely in all honestly forgetting what you were talking about. Once you got lost in Rafael's ass your mind kind of went blank completely.

“What iis your degree in?”

“It's embarrassing,” You looked at the ground.

“What? It can't be that bad,” He shook his head.

“Well I say it's embarrassing to someone like you,” You half laughed.

“Someone like me?” He looked offended. “What iis that supposed to mean?”

“I mean I don't.. I mean the person that I thought you were before today,” You grabbed his hand.

“Well you seem to have really disliked me before today,” he nodded curiously. “It's like you don't know me at all.”

“What? Of course I know you.” You assured him. "I love you, remember? And you love me?”

“Yeah.. I do, but I don't know anything about you,” He looked away as if he was trying to figure out an equation.

Oh shit. What's happening? Was this supposed to happen? Wasn't wearing off? Oh God.

“It's a theater degree!” you blurted out, trying to change the subject. Maybe it would work. If you distracted him maybe this would take over again.

He turned his head to the side and stared off blankly, as if he was rebooting. Then he looked up and smiled at you. “A theater degree? That sounds exciting!” He was back to his “usual self''..

You let out a sigh of relief. However, you wondered if you had gotten him out of the spell, would he have freaked out? Would he have accepted it? Would he maybe start having real feelings for you? Well, it was too late now.

“Does it really though?” You rolled your eyes.

“It really does. I don't know if you would believe this, but I'm kind of a theater nerd myself,” He chuckled.

“No way. You? Nahh,” You blew a raspberry.

“Seriously! I had a bit of a theater bug when I was younger in fact. I wanted to be a big Broadway star” He admitted.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Raphael Barba the stuffy ADA of New York City as a big Broadway star? Yeah right!

“That's insane! You laughed. So why did you give it up?”

“Well.. as you know, being on Broadway isn't a great way to make money. It's more of a passion thing right?”

“So true,” You nodded as you were eating your empanada dessert.

“So.. I took a hard look at where I lived, and how hard my mom and abuelita were struggling and I vowed that I would get out of El Barrio. And make something of myself and be able to take care of them when I was an adult the way that I couldn't when I was a kid,”

You felt tears choking your throat once again for the millionth time that day. But this time it wasn't for you. It was for him. You really hadn't known any of this, to you he was just a pretty face. You actually had a lot in common.

“That is so sweet.” You pushed the trash between you away and moved up closer, pulling his hands into your lap and looking at him endearingly.

“Yeah?” He asked you with a half smile like a kid looking for approval.

“Yeah it really is. You gave up your passion for your family. I wish I was as selfless as that,” You said softly.

“What do you mean?”

What did you mean indeed? Did you really want to get into the story? Then once again you reminded yourself that he would have no idea no recollection of this after today, so you felt comfortable telling him your secret.

“Well….. You.... I came from nothing too. But all I could think of was getting out myself and never looking back,” You admitted in shame.

“Oh?” He looked at you curiously.

“Yeah, I was really passionate about theater and becoming a big Broadway star. With all the fame, and the money, and getting away from my small town in Jersey. So I threw myself into every activity, every theater, every play, every community theater, every performance, anything I can get my hands on. My parents were super supportive and never thought anything bad of me, even though they probably should have. They wanted me to have the world. And I took that for granted,” You began to get choked up.

“Why do you say that…?” He took your hand and squeezed it feeling like something bad was coming.

“They saved up their entire married lives to give me a college fund. I wasn't aware of it, but when I got accepted to NYU School of acting, they told me that they had enough saved for the first two years,” You continued, trying to breathe.

“Well that's good isn't it?”

“Yeah no totally, except I wasn't grateful,” You look down tears stinging your eyes thinking about how selfish you are as a kid. All I could think about and yell at them was how they didn't have enough for the full four years. How was I supposed to be a big Broadway star if I was still trying to pay student loans?”

“Oh Y/N…”.

“Yeah and that's not even the worst part,” Tears started stinging your eyes. You were lucky he was under some spell because he would definitely hate you after this under normal circumstances.

“Go on, I'm not here to judge you,” He pressed his forehead against yours. He realized how hard the story was taking its toll on you.

“One day it was my big end of semester performance and it was snowing. So my parents said that they weren't going to be able to make it. I screamed at them and told them that this was the biggest night of my life, and they couldn't be bothered to show up and what horrible parents they were and that they never cared about me and a whole huge temper tantrum like a 3 year old.”

You tried holding back sobs you had to make it through this whole thing without breaking down.

“No, honey…” He put a hand on your face.

”And so they tried…” You sniffed. They tried driving on the icy roads of Jersey to drive into the City and they served on black ice in the Jersey tunnel where they hit the wall and were killed instantly.

“Oh my god.. he whispered, “Baby I'm so sorry,” He grabbed you in a hug as you broke down. You just sat there for a minute letting him hold you while you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I just told them what shitty parents they were!” You sobbed muffled into his shirt. "And I killed them!”

“Hey,” he pulled your face from his shirt and looked you in the eyes. “No no you didn't do anything,”

“Yes I did! If I hadn't been such a brat and told them and guilted them into coming to see my stupid show then they'd still be alive!” you kept sobbing.

“No,” he took your head in his hands. “Look I didn't know you back then but I'm sure that your parents loved you and I'm sure that you loved them. That's why you wanted them there so bad. And sometimes it's just people's time. You didn't do anything wrong. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah.. I guess so,” you looked down. “I mean I was punished enough for it”.

“What does that mean?”

“Well I mean, obviously I was distraught from my parents dying. And that semester was the last one that was paid for. So kind of lied to you,” You paused to look at him apologetically.

“I had to drop out one year after that because I could only get student loans for that next year. And you had to have a certain GPA to get them to keep paying for the last year and I most certainly did not have that,”

“Oh...carino, I'm so sorry”

“Then me being me the arrogant bitch that I am, I thought well maybe I don't need a degree. Tons of actors don't have degrees. They can just make it on their own. So I just started throwing myself into auditions for about a year and a half, and I ended up living on the streets because I refused to take any kind of job. Telling myself that I was going to get my big break and be famous,”

“Oh my God”

“I know, right?” You laughed through tears. “I'm so stupid,”

“Hey you are not stupid,” Rafael grabbed your hands again.

“Yeah well, the first temp agency that I applied to had the first job as a personal assistant to a fancy lawyer. So maybe I'm not that stupid,” you smiled.

“Ah.. see? Happy ending. Maybe you went through all that to find me,”

“Yeah.. maybe,” You sadly smiled at him.

Although you knew deep down in your heart that was bullshit, because you really didn't have him. All you did was take another shortcut and be selfish and tried to take him for yourself instantly without any of the work. You were still a selfish bitch. And he didn't know that

“You know...if it makes you feel any better, you are lucky to have such loving parents,”

“What do you mean? Didn't you say you gave up your dream to take care of them?” You assumed that must have meant they were super close.

“Yeah well, for my mom and abuela..”.

You suddenly realized he hadn't mentioned a father.

"Oh? I'm.... No dad?”

“No, no dad.” He shook his head sadly. “I wasn't completely honest with you earlier YN,”

“What do you mean?” You took his hand, already knowing this wasn't going to be good.

“I was forced to give up my dream,” he replied sadly while staring at the ground.

“What?”

“When I was a kid I would watch musicals at my abuelitas house. It was the only place I was….safe,” He continued.

“Oh God.” You muttered.

“I would dance and sing all over her house. She was the only person in my life who ever supported that side of me,” he continued to stare at the ground.

“When my dad came to pick me up one day and he saw what I was doing…. “ He stopped again, you realized he was trying not to cry.

“Rafa…..”

“He tried to "beat the gay out of me.",” You saw tears dripping on the pavement.

You silently gasped.

"Not that I'm gay,' he quickly assured you.

"That was literally the last thing on my mind baby," you shook your head, tears coming to your own eyes as you pulled him into a hug. He collapsed into tears as you rubbed the back of his neck and whispered comforting words into his ear.

Finally he composed himself enough to finish his story.

“Anyway, he uh...he didn't just beat me for that. It was anything really. But I kept at it at my abuelas. She encouraged me even if she couldn't stand up to my dad. I can't blame her or my mother. When my mom caught me still pursuing it she told me to stop if I wanted to keep our dad around saying he wouldn't tolerate a….f word son,"

“Oh my god.” You whispered. You couldn't imagine your parents or any parents really, trying to discourage their kids from anything, and threatening them for being something they were so passionate about.

“Well I guess it didn't matter either way because he ended up taking off anyway. And I felt so guilty that we lost our only income, so my mom had to end up getting two jobs and my abuela moved in to help with bills that then I swore to become better so that I could atone for my sins,” He couldn’t look at you.

“Oh my god. Rafa, sweetie I…. That wasn't your fault., it wasn't your fault at all. He sounds like a grade a asshole,” You made him look at you just as he did when you told your shameful story.

“He was...is. I don't know if he's dead or alive actually. I haven't seen or heard from him since he left. I hate him so much,” he clenched his fists.

“Oh honey,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“No you don't understand. My middle name is Eduardo, named after him. So he's always with me. I have always told people it's Antonio, because I want nothing about me associated with him,” He started to cry again.

After a minute, he looked back up at you very seriously. “I've never told anyone that story.”

“Really? Not even Liv?”

"Not even Liv," He stroked your hair. "I've never felt as close to her as I do with you.” He pulled you into his lap. “The truth is Y/N I have never felt safe since my abuela’s house. Until I met you,”

“Rafa…” You pulled him into a deep kiss, tears dropped down both your faces. “We can be each other’s homes now,”

[devildom-queen]

Leviathan Birthday Headcanons!

The day we've all been waiting for has finally come! It's our dear otaku boi's birthday!

In order to celebrate it, I decided to write him some headcanons since he's my favorite brother and I'm more familiar with this type of content than drawing. It's my first time writing after many years, so I hope I did a good job.

Thank you for reading them!

Leviathan's Birthday - 04/09

As you two recently became a couple, you were actually a lot more excited for Levi's birthday than Leviathan himself;

He, as usual, decided to spend the whole day inside of his room, determined to collect all the birthday bonuses that his games were giving him;

But that didn't stop Levi from handing Lucifer a list with a whole bunch of otaku items that he wanted as gifts for his birthday a couple of days before the main event;

So, Lucifer decided it was better to have you beside him while shopping in the human realm in order to help him decode that huge list;

And when there's MC, there's Mammon too! As expected, Mammon tagged along with you both;

It was pretty fun, even though you had to pay for Mammon's present since he didn't have a single penny left. You should have guessed it;

Back to the Devildom, you and Asmo kept bugging Lucifer about how fun it would be to have a surprise birthday party until he finally allowed it out of exhaustion;

You knew Levi wasn't into parties to begin with, so you determined to organize the greatest party in the whole world to get your demon boyfriend out of his room;

Well, at least you tried;

First you had to convince Asmo that having a champagne tower and renting Diavolo's Castle wasn't a good idea at all;

He also wanted to go live on the Devilgram at the party, however, you knew that would keep Leviathan away, so it was definitely a no-no;

When the day finally came, you were expecting it to be quite peaceful;

You would wake up your blue-haired lover by showering him with kisses. Then, you'd walk your favorite blushing mess into his already arranged party to celebrate his special day, and after that, cuddle while playing games;

Little did you know that you wouldn't get a wink of sleep on the night before his birthday because nothing was going on as planned;

Almost nothing was arranged at all;

Plus, another one of your problems was waiting for you right at the kitchen;

You propably knew from the beginning that accepting Beel's request to help Luke bake the cake wasn't the smartest decision;

But you never knew such a small being could get so angry at someone more than twice as bigger;

It took Simeon quite a lot of time to actually calm Luke down;

All because Beelzebub had eaten so many ingredients of while helping to bake the cake that you had Solomon and Satan go shopping with you in the middle of the night to buy them all again;

You and Belphie also had a hard time dealing with a really apologetic Beelzebub;

In the end, you were pretty relived that everyone was there to support you;

Even Diavolo showed up and convinced Lucifer to help him hang some decorations;

It didn't matter if the party wasn't perfect. You did your best to put all your love and thoughts about Levi in each and every little part of it;

Just when you thought it wasn't possible to have any more surprises, your eyes caught a glimpse of Leviathan standing up in front of the door;

You suddenly dropped everything that you were holding on the floor;

At first, you didn't believe in what you just saw. Maybe you were just tired. After all, it was already around 2 a.m;

But as he started moving towards the decorated table in the center of the Dinning Hall, you couldn't deny any longer that he was really there;

"W-What are you doing here?!", you asked in disbelief;

"I was planning to pull an all-nighter playing games, but I couldn't concentrate with all the noise coming from here. So, I came to check. What's happening?"

It was supposed to be a surprise, however, you had even managed to screw this up by making a lot of noise;

Seeing that you were almost crying, Mammon literally screamed;

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEVIATHAN!"

That was a surprise;

Following his example, all the other demons, angels and even Solomon started congratulating him;

"I got you this wonderful skin-care kit! You know Levi, if you keep neglecting your dry skin like that, you'll become ugly and MC won't like you anymore!", Asmo teased;

"Here, Levi. I remember you said "I won't read anything besides manga!" once, but I know you've been really into this novel called How I Ended Up Becoming The Demon Lord's Personal Maid In The Demon Realm After He Confessed His Love To Me Instead Of His Fianceé!", Satan said while handing Leviathan the book;

"Oi, I got the the best present ever! Y'know, you should be grateful to you kind big brother for giving you something this nice!", Mammon bragged while holding a Ruri-chan's figurine;

"Hey, don't hurt Ruri-chan! You're holding her way too tightly! A Stupidmammon like you shouldn't your dirty hands around her!"

"Actually, the one who paid for Mammon's present was MC. MC's also the one responsible for the huge me... I mean, this surprise party", Lucifer told him while handed his third younger brother the list of presents he had asked for;

Your demon lover's gaze finally met yours again;

"I'm... I'm sorry. It was meant to be a surprise party but I ruined everything...", you whispered;

Suddenly, Leviathan pulled you close;

This wasn't like him at all;

He gently hugged you and whipped your tears away;

"I-It's not your fault at all! I'm the one who got out of the room way too early... I-I wasn't expecting any of this... I'm sorry I ruined your surprised party!"

You laughed while hugging your boyfriend;

He was the sweetest blushing mess you've ever seen;

Levi may be a shut-in otaku;

But he's your shut-in otaku;

And you love teasing him;

That's why you stole a kiss from him in front of everybody;

That's also why Solomon, who was bringing the second cake, almost dropped it on the floor;

Luke luckily was already asleep with his head resting on Simeon's lap;

[kenmasgameboy]

PIPSQUEAK

a kuroo x gangmember!reader

summary;

" you like to cause a bit of trouble, pipsqueak?"

" pipsqueak? seriously?"

Life for you got turned upside down after your first year at Nekoma high. Realizing it was too dangerous, your parents sent you back to live in Miyagi and attend Karasuno with your old friends. Kuroo Tetsuro, the Police Chiefs son, comes into contact with you in the most unexpected way possible, bringing trouble wherever you both go.

—————————-

Prologue.

      High school was never that interesting to you. Though, you'll admit that it was a good way to help the days pass. You always found different games to help.

At first, games to you meant sneaking out of the house, slashing tires, almost getting arrested, going to parties. You had a bad reputation. You had been mixed up with all the wrong people before at your old school. But now you were going to turn your life around. Even if that means that now games to you would mean studying. Kind of.

         The closest you'd probably get to your new life would be getting in trouble for minor things at school. For example, falling asleep in class was a specialty of yours. Truly, an art form. Waking up to that sweet slap of a ruler against your desk was better than any alarm clock you'd ever hear. The rush in your chest, the heat to your cheeks, the sweaty palms. Incredible. But that is it. You promised your mother that this year you would be making her proud at Karasuno. You wouldn't be hanging out with those "thugs" as she liked to call them. You would keep up, maybe pay attention, and maybe make some more real friends.

       The truth was that school never felt like a real challenge to you. Sure there were plenty of difficult subjects that made you feel stupid but you always kept out of the drama, minded your business, and kept your head down. It was fine. There really was a target on your back now that you were the new girl at school though, and you had adjusted week by week meeting new people and reuniting with some old ones, too. But ultimately you decided the social system just wasn't made for you. There wasn't really a good place for you to fit in, or maybe it just wasn't comparing to the kind of family you made before.

      Today was one of those days where your motivation was at its peak, you were taking good notes. Studied for a quiz, been overly diligent. Then that sweet beautiful sound of the lunch bell rang, you pulled out your food, grabbed your skateboard, and left the classroom in a bit of a hurry. As you were leaving you started to hear a conversation:

      Dude, don't worry, I have it completely handled. Watch...

      "(Y/N)!" Narita, your classmate called for you once you exited the room and into the hallway. He stood next to Ennoshita who looked like he would explode any second. You knew Narita, him and Ennoshita were in Class 4 with you and you really didn't have that many real friends at school but you wouldn't mind calling them that. They were some of the friends you were reunited with from middle school, they were a big comfort to you when you transferred in.

      "Hey, how's it going?" You slowly walked over, trying to find your excuse to leave and take a nap without seeming impolite.

      "Great, good. Thanks, yourself?" Narita answered for him and Ennoshita. He also seemed in a hurry for some reason but was much worse at covering it up.

      "Pretty tired, but uh, for the most part—" You started but your sentence didn't last long.

      "You should come to my party! Uh— Our party. We're having a party it would probably wake you up. It's in Tokyo! I mean—" Narita came in strong.

       "Nice, buddy. You really do got this handled." Was all Ennoshita followed it up with, "Gotta go, see you guys in class."

       "A party?" You laughed a little, just because these guys were anything but the partying type. You started walking and Narita was following you like a hawk, "Don't you guys have volleyball practice or something?"

        "Yeah, of course. But not this Friday night! I mean technically we do but we'll be done at 6:30. Party can start at 7:30." Narita followed up, "All the volleyball guys will be there, too. We have a summer training camp in Tokyo starting on Monday so this is kind of the only day we can get everyone together. We already had our friends from Nekoma invite pretty much everyone they knew."

       "N-Nekoma, huh?" Your smile wavered, "That sounds like it'll be really fun for you guys. Thanks for the invite, but I don't really know anyone on your team. Plus, I can't get to Tokyo by 7:30." You said, declining as well as you could without making your answer too suspicious.

       "Well, yeah about that. Um, by 'it's in Tokyo' what I meant to say was Tokyo guys will be there. They're volleyball players, too, actually." He explained, rubbing the back of his neck and adjusting his satchel, trying his best to act cool and lean against the vending machine you were using.

       "So, it's a Volleyball mixer with you guys and a bunch of guys from Tokyo but it's not in Tokyo? Where is it, then?" You asked for the elaboration, kind of liking this dancing way to get to the point.

        "Yes, well and other schools in Miyagi, too. It's a lot of schools, I mean I'm talking Nekoma, Fukorodani, Aoba Johsai, Johzenji, Date Tech, Shiratorizawa.. maybe.. Inarizaki.. and more.. again maybe. But it's at Kinoshita's house. Which is still kinda far, but it has a pool! His family is loaded and they'll all be gone this weekend." Narita finally got to the point.

        "Sounds like it'll be a good time for you guys. I'm happy for you, sounds like you've made a lot of friends from other schools." You cheers'd your milk to him and started walking again to find a place to eat.

        "No, no. Girls will be there, too. It's kinda the whole point."

        "You really have to work on your pitch." You said plainly.

        "Please, I need your help (Y/N). I was put in charge of getting girls to come to this party." Narita begged, you couldn't help but let out a laugh at his desperation. In all your years of knowing him and being in the same classes you had never seen him talk to a single girl who wasn't in a group project or something related to it.

        "Why you?"

        "It was either me or Tanaka."

        "Oh, then definitely you are the better choice." You agreed, having known just from the previous stories he's told you. "Interesting proposition. I'll think about it."

       "You'll think about it and say yes?" He tried, "Every time I talk to a pretty girl I feel like I'm going to throw up, I can't talk to groups of girls and invite them to a party. But you're likable, more well known now since you're the new girl."

       "First of all, rude that I don't make you want to throw up. I'm pretty, sometimes."

       "Fair."

        "How about, I'll say yes if you tell me who it is you have a crush on, which girl you most want at this party then I'll help out." You offered. Narita thought for a minute as you started eating your lunch.

       "Fine." He nodded, "This is my duty to my boys." Then he leaned into your ear and whispered the name of the prettiest and smartest girl in your class: Ichika Yua. Ichika was going to be a tough sell.

       "Alright. A deals a deal. You've given me a secret and I will do what I can do. How many girls do you need, anyway? Are we going for a 1:1 ratio or..?"

       "No, these guys need a much higher chance I think. Let's try a 4:1 ratio."

       "Yeah, actually you're gonna take what you can get."

       "Yes, ma'am."

        "Now give me the rundown on your team. I don't really know any of them and I need to know for my pitches I have to do this week. And don't think because I'm doing some work means that you can slack off okay. I really only know 2nd-year girls, if you want 3rd year or 1st you have to go to them. You need to try too. Also, will there be alcohol?" You listed off your demands and were straight forward. Narita made a slow nod,

        "Oh, I almost forgot. Do you know any girls from Nekoma who could come?" He asked you the dreaded question.

        Yup, you were originally supposed to spend your high school years at Nekoma High School. When you were entering high school your dad got a job offer in Tokyo, forcing you to move out there after middle school. Then after everything happened, your Mom knew it was too risky to let you live out in Tokyo still and she shipped you back here to go to Karasuno and live in a small apartment by yourself. You have family friends who come to check on you and your parents visit when they can. It's not horrible, at least now you get to come back to streets more familiar.

      "Um, I think the girls I knew from Nekoma aren't exactly the girls you want at a party. Besides, you should just ask your volleyball brethren to ask some girls and pull their weight. Or are they too pretty for you to talk to?" You teased Narita and knocked his head.

      "Hey, girls are girls." Narita held his head from where you knocked it.

      "Sure, if thats the case then the next time you see me I better be seeing some chunks."

     You and Narita continued to eat lunch together that day. Until you realized you only had a limited amount of time left and had to use the bathroom before class so you excused yourself. You skated away around the outside of the courtyard with a bun in your mouth and around some of your other classmates, waving.

        "Dude, uh. Who was that?" A guy with an aggressive appearance walked up to Narita, having walked past a few minutes before but stayed just to gawk.

        "Huh? (Y/N)?" Narita clarified, innocently.

        "(Y/N)... wow. What a beautiful name." Tanaka sighed in simp, "Is she our year?"

        "Yeah, man. She's in my class. You never noticed her before? I'm surprised she was the talk of Karasuno guys for like the whole first week of this year." He laughed. "She is technically new to Karasuno this year. But she's from Miyagi, I've known her since grade school."

        "My babe sensor has been reserved for Kiyoko only recently. Trying to be loyal." He humphed, "You guys a thing?"

       "What? No, no." Narita laughed, "No, we've just been friends for a while. She's helping me get girls to come to the party on Friday."

       Tanaka jumped up with optimism, "Yes! This is going to be the best party of our high school lives!"

       "I hope so." Narita rubbed his neck to try and tame his nerves again.

       "(Y/N).." Tanaka sighed again, "You know who's gonna go nuts when they get a look at her, right?"

       "I know."

———————————-

next

Thank you so much for reading!! Please let me know what you think and keep reading!!

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

September Song (3/3)

I'm sorry @kitten-wrath that this took so long, but I do hope you like it. @hoodoo12 @xerxezra thanks for brainstorming with me. By the way, @kitten-wrath there's a reference to one of your fics. I'm sure you'll know it immediately, but to those that don't the read her fic here (Link to referenced fic)

I'm really proud of this fic. It references many of my other fics since most of them being to my Fluffy Adventures With Your Boyfriend Doofus Rick series. I would list all the references, but there's too many. Though, I can list a few of the bigger references for context (Sentimental Reasons, As The World Falls Down, The Little Big Things)

Also, special thanks go to @her-victori for reading a majority of my fics in a short span of time. You Rock! As well to random anons who leave me sweet words in my ask box.

If you haven't read the first or second of this fic then here's the link. (Read Part1 Here) (Read Part2 Here)

In this fic the reader tries to be more reserved and mature for Rick, but what will he think?

______________

Chapter 3: One hasn't got time

Random fish jumped out of the water, a cricket jumped over his foot, and there you two were amidst the music of the night. You sat on the hood of his car, swinging your feet back and forth, wondering what was going on inside of that head of his. You knew Zeta-7 was studying you, with one his hands in his pocket while the other held your heels, half hidden by the darkness. Was he worried you were going to walk barefoot on the gravel, or preoccupied with the state of your naked feet? Might've been the shade of nail polish you had on your toes, or simply he was thinking of a completely unrelated topic; of which you may never know. Nonetheless, you were compelled to apologize again in order to fill up the gap of conversation. “Rick, I really am sorry if I ruined our date. I should've just talked to you about how I was feeling.”

Walking around the car, placing your discarded heels in the back seat, Zeta-7 opened the trunk and searched around until he found what he was looking for. “Y-y-you didn't ruin our date,” he assured, dropping on one knee beside you so he could slip his sandals on your feet. “you saved it. It's - it's one less thing t-to worry about. Boy, I'm glad I-I still had a pair of flip flops in the trunk. They sure came in handy.”

“How long have those been in there.”

“I'd say a-a few months.”

A few months probably meant they'd been in there since that time you two went to the beach. You checked your now sandaled foot, giggling at the dramatic size differences between your foot and the sandal. “Hmm, I guess this means I'm not Cinderella; the slipper doesn't fit. That's a good thing because prince charming is so not my type.”

When he stood back up, he wondered. “Then what is y-your type?”

You'd think he'd by now that you had never been crazy about guys. Sure, in your teen years you had your random crushes on the guys in your art and science class, but nothing specific came to mind as to why they were appealing to you; you had other more activities which kept you happily diverted. And now, taking in the sharp lines of his suit, and eager want of understanding, you felt your heart flutter as it did when he was especially attractive to you. It wasn't so much in his appearance but in the feelings you had when light-hearted, casual sweetness flitted across the lines of romanticism; when smart, witty repartee translated to golden words, soft touches, and knowing. But to Rick, he needed both the conscious and unconscious understanding; the affirmation that you held him in high regard. “That's a good question Ricky. You know it's not goblin kings or fire-breathing dragons who are cursed princes in disguise, neither is it swimsuit models, or rock stars, and never villains. Honestly, I didn't know I had a type until I met someone who challenged the conventional rules.”

With raised brow, he shifted his weight to his other foot, pleasantly intrigued. “Is th-that so?”

Why the smartest man in the universe had to doubt the validity of his place in your heart and skeptical when varying parties voiced conflicting opinions would perhaps be the ongoing mystery, but you dare not hurt him further. “It is. I like people who are comforting, who can cook and garden. Maybe they'll tell me silly stories, and make me tea before they say goodnight. Being multilingual never hurt, and if they have a cute stutter, they might as well kill me with cuteness when paired with darling buck teeth. Hmm, reminds me of a certain mountain king I knew once upon a dream. Though the only difference between him and you is that he was very lonely, and as for you, I hope you'll never have to be again.”

You looked up at him, with cheeks flaming after this sort confession, finding that your usual open affections were a mix teasing and simple flirtations, but you looked away from his burning, but altogether odd gaze of his since your heart beated wildly in your chest from it; for a great deal of the time, you two were very casual with one another as you had been when you were just friends. Zeta-7 stepped closer, and put his hand under your chin and lifted your face to look at it keenly. “With you,” he smiled protectingly before he pressed a kiss on your forehead. “I-I-I never will be.”

You certainly hoped so. “Rick, I think it's getting late. Should we call it a night?”

“Are y-you tired?”

“Not in the slightest. Why? Feeling like an adventure?”

“Not exactly, but can I take y-you somewhere?”

“Sure. As long as you're there, then I don't mind.”

_______________

You snuggled into his side, trying to steal as much warmth as you could. “Since when did you have a hammock?”

“Since th-this morning. Do you like it?”

“I love it. Especially since it gives me an excuse to just come over and chill in the backyard. Maybe do a little bird watching, flirt with the gardener. You know.”

“Gosh, y-you can come over whenever you want. Mi casa es s-su casa. Remember?”

His home was your home? Well, you always felt it was in a way. As ever there was a feeling of unchangingness about the night sky, and with you two returning to the general lazy routine that was as delightful as it was elusive, you wondered how you were going to convince yourself to leave the comfort of his arms. You were happy that he chose to allow tonight's events go, and focus on the good parts, but while things changed at a steady pace, there were moments like this and in between, like at the ice cream shop which made you conscious of his want of family; of intimacy; of closeness to chase away all the lonely shadows which were always around the corner. You owed him a great deal, and honestly, you were in want of those things too. “I'm happy that you say that Rick,” you answered matter of factly. “because I can't wait for the day when it really is. Well, whenever you're home is ready to receive me.”

The hand which had been absentmindedly rubbing your arm stopped. And again, you heard him sniffle as was typical when he was emotional, and his heart was beating a little fast. You sincerely hoped you wouldn't hurt him with all this excitement. And when he calmed a little, he turned his body to face you, smiling softly at this possibility. “I-I-I look forward to that day too.”

________________

Pots and pans are moved around, and he began to make his special brew. Unlike the mediocre ingredients which you had in your home, Zeta-7 had some of the freshest, and most potent herbs and spices which could be found in this part of the world. If you hadn't known better you'd say they were brought straight from India, and then to your surprise, he proceeded to tell you that they were, and how he regularly visits when he can. With delight, he tells of the exotic culture, of its people, the food, and the points of interest that would never be found in travel pamphlets; painting scenes and landscapes.

Like always he knew how to match your mood to a flavor, and give you just what you needed. From the cabinets, and from the pantry he retrieved what he needed, and lined them up on the counter. Whole cloves, green cardamom pods, cinnamon sticks, which he breaks into pieces, freshly chopped ginger, ground nutmeg, white peppercorns, star anise, and loose black tea. Soon, the air was full of spices, and the Masala Tea was near completion; it was your favorite and made you think of many other similar times when you two sat together over tea to discuss many a topic which was suitable to talk about in the evening. With care, Rick poured his concoction into your new mug, and he poured his into a Shoney's mug and lightened both with milk, and sweetened them with honey. With the spoon he used to stir, he tasted it to be sure, then held it out to you. “I hope it's t-to your liking.”

“You know it always is, for you know what I like.” The first sip is heavenly, and you sigh happily as he watches you in amusement. “Rick, what's so funny?”

He holds your gaze for a moment, before he chuckles. “It's a-a secret.”

You stuck out your tongue, but he doesn't relent and goes on to drinking his tea. Zeta-7 can be a tease when he wanted to be, but he isn't so unkind as to not apologize. “I'm sorry, I-I-I don't mean to offend you or anything, but I'd love to make it up to you if you'd let me. I um - I got something for you.”

Pulling several small boxes from his inner suit pockets, which were definitely bigger in the inside, he handed them to you. “When I was on Mars last month, I saw a few things that reminded me of you. Do you want t-t-to know what they are?”

“Rick, you didn't have to do this. You spoil me enough as it is, but I would like to know.”

“Gosh, I wanted t-t-to do it. After all, y-you are my favorite.”

“I better be.” you winked. “Should I open it now?”

“If y-y-you want to. I hope y-you will like them.”

”

Taking a deep breath, you carefully unwrapped the sparkly gift paper and opened the first box which had a precious rose quartz apple brooch that you had only seen on TV. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Almost. Y-you see, on Mars, they manufacture a-a lot of - many similar products which you could find on Earth, except they tend t-to be more technological. This, for example, was originally made t-to act as a decorative cooling device for those really hot Martian days, but I modified it t-to do this.”

Cupping your hands with his, you gasped as it warmed your hands, and an inner calm took over you. He continued. “It'll calm you down any time you feel overwhelmed, and it doubles as a-a hand warmer. All y-you have to do is think good thoughts, and it'll magnify them.”

Unable to see where the hidden technology and mechanisms were, you wondered. “Is it magic?”

“Hohoho, if y-you want it to be. I-I-I know you don't - don't always like how you're meds make y-you feel and I wanted you to be able to be comfortable. And it'll come in handy when winter comes a-around.”

Trying it for yourself, it made you wonder as it soothed you if he had used properties from those empathic plants that existed on the planet with the ioculus and giant flowers. Who knows, but it felt wonderful, like a balm for your soul. Opening the next box, there was a hair clip in the shape of a puppy dragon. “Oh my goodness,” you gasped. “this is just too precious. Rick, what did you…how did you... ”

“I-I know how much you love them. It's not like th-the real thing, but it's c-cute isn't it?”

You didn't hesitate to clip it on your hair, feeling your smile growing. “Its freaking adorable. Sweet, sweet cookie man, please tell me they make other jewelry with similar designs.”

“Hohoho, they do but th-they sort of double as weapons. The hair clip can only summon them when th-they are within range of-of course.”

“What if I wanted to be queen of the puppy dragons? You never know, maybe I'm a dangerous woman. I can be ferociously adorable. When I want to be.”

Zeta-7 seemed to be considering this idea, and you had to poke him to make him realize you had simply been joking; mostly joking. The last box which laid on your lap was a bit heavier, and there were several layers of holographic tissue paper you had to peel away before you finally saw what it was. You felt tears prick at the back of your eyes sight of it; a miniature glass terrarium necklace, with a shrunken sunflower that had an iridescent shimmer on its petals.“You couldn't have bought this. Did you make it?”

“I-I did for the most part. That's a hybrid sunflower that can only be found on the Citadel, and I used metals that can rival gold and silver in its durability. It's - I-I-I could go into the mechanics of it, but I-I think that would ruin the surprise. M-mi corazón, if-if you look inside you'll see what I-I see when I think of you.”

Staring at it intently, it took a retina scan to verify the user, and then you saw clips of his memories of you. You saw yourself from his perspective, dancing around him while wearing your hello kitty pajamas; of you all sniffly and sick on the couch; that time you had flour on your cheeks after your failure in baking; of you blowing kisses; of you fast asleep amongst all the plants of his conservatory; of your joy as you pointed to things from the ferris wheel; of your hands as you touched up his makeup on his arms; of painting; of your tears and surprise; of huddling for warmth; of feeding his turtles; of you standing in the rain, drenched from head to toe; of you handing him clover; of your right above him, tickling and kissing him in the grass; of your Rick cosplay; of you standing in the half light of the moon; as a princess, confused as to who was who as you stepped into the ballroom; of hundreds of butterflies shielding you; trying to hide a shameless amount of candy; of you commanding plants to your will; of you sitting on the ground with a scraped knee and mess of Doritos and very surprisingly of you as a child handing him a rose from your father's garden before it all faded away. “I can't believe this.” you gasped, looking away in favor of Rick. “You've met me before?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he confessed sadly. “Yeah.”

“So when you said it wasn't the first time you waited for me, then what? You really did meet me as a child? In this dimension?”

“It's a-a long story. You probably wouldn't even remember.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“For very similar reasons as t-to why I had to wait in your dream. It's - I've known a-about you even before y-you were born, but that's - that's a-a different story for another day. As I said, it's a-a-a really long story, but I promise t-t-to tell you everything.”

He saw you grow up in real life and in a dream, he must have known about you for years. And yet, he waited. Why? That brought up so many other questions, but for now, you only considered him with a softer, deeper affection. “You're full of surprises aren't you? Always one step ahead of me. I'd say that's not fair, but I don't have a right to. You always have a good reason. You….you really do know me, don't you?”

Feeling warm lips on your temple, he chuckled. “N-n-not everything, but I like t-to try. I doubt anyone could know everything, but I- I like you. I-I-I know you could do better, but I just want you.”

“To think that all I wanted was for you to like me more.”

“Hohoho, I doubt I-I could like you less. Y-you're everything to me.”

Leaning down towards you, he captured your mouth in a firm kiss, and you tugged on his tie to bring him closer. He tasted like cardamom and promises, was everything and you couldn't think of a better way to end your date, but then to you disappointment, you heard the familiar sound of a portal and a couple of guard Ricks stepped through; their dimension numbers worn prominently on thier chests. “Yo ding dong, breaks over. They need you back in the lab pronto!” And when they fully stepped into the kitchen, they joked amongst themselves about how such a good for nothing Rick be capable of knowing what to do with a woman, let alone be so well acquainted with one.

Zeta-7 visibly winced at their laughter since they had come at an inopportune time, but for your sake tried to remain strong. “I-I-I guess our date really is over.”

“It was nice while it lasted.”

“Come on Doofus,” yelled the head guard. “we don't have all day. You can play with her later.”

“I'm - I'm sorry about this,” he whispered. “I sh-should have told you that there was a-a chance of being called into work.”

“Don't worry, I'm sure they need you for something really important. You know I'll be here when you come back. Don't you? I'll be fine, really I will be. Be careful Ricky. I love you.”

Pulling you into a tight hug, he was hesitant to let you go, but at the urging of his superior, he let go with a frustrated sigh, removed his suit jacket, and grabbed his lab coat and followed after them. Once gone, you cleaned up, and wiped down the counters and table. Seeing his jacket, and not wanting it to wrinkle, you picked it up and hung it in the hallway closet. Though, once it was hung, you noticed a slight bulge in one of the inner pockets. You had a feeling, though thinking it could possibly be otherwise, you reached down, and pulled out a box; a single glance to confirmed it. Zeta-7 had intended to make an honest woman out of you.

With shaky hands, you slipped it over your ring finger, and felt hot tears run down your cheeks; you had possibly ruined his opportunity to propose. When you felt that you had worn it for an inappropriate amount of time, you pulled it off and placed it back in the box; it wasn't yours yet. You two only wanted to make each other happy, but there would always be obstacles and peculiar incidents along the way. And this….you certainly hope he wouldn't change his mind and try again; whenever that time would be.

Fin

[douchebagbrainwaves]

JUST AS HOUSES ALL OVER AMERICA ARE FULL OF CHAIRS THAT ARE, WITHOUT THE OWNERS EVEN KNOWING IT, NTH-DEGREE IMITATIONS OF THE ATTITUDES OF PEOPLE WHO'VE DONE GREAT THINGS

One of the most powerful of those was the existence of channels. Is there some test you can use is: always produce. If there's something people still won't do, it stops being a self-indulgent choice, like buying expensive office furniture.1 But I tried living in Florence when I was talking about how investors are reluctant to put money into startups in bad markets, even though that's the time they happen, using the state of the economy doesn't matter much either way.2 It's not rapid prototyping for business models though it can be, but apparently not in the startup world. Is the existence of English majors, and therefore jobs teaching them, that calls into being all those thousands of dreary papers about gender and identity in the novels of Conrad. But it would require a great moral effort; it would mean staring failure in the eye every day for years. We're starting to move from social lies to real lies.

I don't think the bank manager really did. It's also more dangerous. Pretty soon you'll start noticing what makes the preceding paragraph true is that it's slow and uncertain. When Microsoft and Apple were founded.3 There's an A List of people who will later do great things, you'd be able to benefit from it, because a toll has to be is a test. In practice they spend a lot of pro-union readers, the first paragraph sounds like the sort of thing a right-wing radio talk show host would say to stir up his followers.4 What good does it do me to know that my programmers would be more productive working at home on their own projects? But it doesn't matter much either way. As written, it tends to offend people who like unions, because it seems sympathetic to their cause.

If employees have to be made to work on. What matters in Silicon Valley is how much effect you have on the world. At best you may have a couple internships, but not, probably, to music. The better you understand them the better the odds of doing that. If the world had a single, autocratic government, the labels and studios could buy laws making the definition of property be whatever they wanted. It happens naturally to anyone who does good work.5 It's an exciting place. I hear the RIAA and MPAA would make us breathe through tubes down here too, even though we no longer needed to. You have two choices: give it away and make money from it indirectly, or find ways to embody it in things people will pay for.

It has always mattered for women, but in the late 90s said the worst thing about living there was the low quality of the eavesdropping.6 That's what all publishing used to be like. Plenty of things we now consider prestigious were anything but at first. But I have a legitimate reason for doing this. Customers are used to being maltreated. For example, reading and experience are usually compiled at the time they happen, using the state of the economy. That's a separate question. At the moment, even the smartest students leave school thinking they have to get a job.7 Initially you have to show off with your body instead.8 The message Berkeley sends is: you should make more money. That's the reason to launch fast is not so much that there was a university nearby. Unproductive pleasures pall eventually.

Nor is there anything new, except the names and places, in most news about things going wrong. It would have been on the list 100 years ago. Whoever controls the device sets the terms. If they accepted it, it wouldn't be read by anyone for months, and in the meantime I'd have to fight word-by-word to save it from being mangled by some twenty five year old copy editor.9 They have an answer, certainly, but as a predictor of success it's rounding error compared to the founders. You can't blame kids for thinking I am not like these people; I am not suited to this world.10 This suggests an answer to a question people in New York and the Bay area are second class citizens—till they start hedge funds or startups respectively. Most people who did great things were clumped together in a few places where that sort of thing a right-wing radio talk show host would say to stir up his followers. On the blunderometer, this episode ranks with IBM accepting a non-exclusive license for DOS. But those are usually free. Ten years ago there seemed a real danger Microsoft would extend its monopoly to servers. They work odd hours, wearing the most casual of clothing.

Technology trains leave the station at regular intervals. The organic route is more common. The basic idea behind office hours is that if you had enough strength of mind to do great work have to live in a great city.11 The problem is the same they face in operating systems: they can't pay people enough to build something better than a group of inspired hackers will build for free. Everyone knows that these little social lies aren't meant to be taken literally, just as, occasionally, playing wasn't—for example, set prices based on the qualities of the founders. How lucky that someone so powerful is so benevolent. Most people fail.12 At one extreme is the day job, where you work regular hours at one job to make a few people in a position to do that.13 I better not start a startup now, because the economy is better before taking the leap? I'm not going to try. The reason these conventions are more dangerous is that they interact with the ideas.

If I had a copy of the New York Times. Teachers in particular all seemed to believe implicitly that work was not fun. Everyone knows that these little social lies aren't meant to be taken literally, just as we were designed to eat a certain amount of fiber, and we feel bad if you haven't succeeded yet. The crazy legal measures that the labels and studios have put themselves in the position of the food shop.14 But this time something new happened. And so the average person expressing his opinions in a bar sounds like an idiot compared to a journalist writing about the subject.15 If you know you can love work, you're in the home stretch, and if you write about controversial topics you have to find the city where you feel at home to know what they want to do, but in most ambitious kids, ambition seems to precede anything specific to be ambitious about. The owner wanted the student to pay for the smells he was enjoying.16 But this is certainly not so with work.

Maybe I'm excessively attached to conciseness. When you talk about cities in the sense we are, what you're really talking about is collections of people, so you could use the two ideas interchangeably. Offer surprisingly good customer service. You should be hipper. The record labels and movie studios used to distribute what they made like air shipped through tubes on a moon base where we had to buy air by the liter. You have to like what you do? When I say business can learn about new conditions the same way I write essays, making pass after pass looking for anything I can cut. This is easy advice to give.17 When an investor maltreats a founder now, it gets out. That may be the greatest effect, in the most literal sense, not news: there is nothing new in it.

Notes

You're too early if it's dismissed, it's probably a bad deal.

Without visual cues e. In general, spams are more likely to have done all they demand from art as stuff.

Geoff Ralston reports that one of them. College English 28 1966-67, pp. Auto-retrieving filters will have to do better, because you couldn't possibly stream it from a few critical technical secrets.

And while we might think it might make them less vulnerable to gaming, because people would be investors who say no for introductions to philosophy now take the hit.

But let someone else. When an investor makes you much more analytical style of thinking. They would have been about 2, etc, and outliers are disproportionately likely to resort to expedients like selling autographed copies, or at least accepted additions to the customer: you post a sign in a world in verse, it would literally take forever to raise five million dollars in liquid assets are assumed to be employees, with identifying details changed. On their job listing page, they still probably won't invest.

The Harmless People and The CRM114 Discriminator.

After a while to avoid sticking. There is of course finding words this way that makes the business for 16,000 sestertii, for example, if you aren't embarrassed by what you've done than where you go to die from releasing something full of bugs, and Foley Hoag. Even the desire to do that.

99, and each night to make the police treat people more equitably. That wouldn't work for us to Steve Huffman and Alexis Ohanian, both of which he can be and still provide a better user experience. This is actually from the truth to say that intelligence is the least VC-like.

I quote a number here only to buy your kids' way into top colleges by sending them to private schools that in the belief that they'll only invest contingently on other sites.

According to Zagat's there are certain qualities that help in deciding what to think about so-called lifestyle business, A. And frankly even these companies wish they weren't, as I know of a refrigerator, but this would be at a friend's house for the firm in the production of high quality. This is almost always bullshit.

5 to 2 seconds. If we had, we'd have understood users a lot about how things are going well, but half comes from a technology startup takes some amount of damage to the ideal of a lumbar disc herniations, but it might help to be started in 1975, said the things you want to pound that message home. The markets seem to be a predictor of high quality. Digg's is the kind that evolves into Facebook isn't merely a subset of Facebook; the creation of wealth for society.

But which of them is a sufficiently identifiable style, you usually have to do better. One reason I stuck with such energy that he transformed the field they describe. Or you make something hackers use. He had such a baleful stare as they are themselves typical users.

Unfortunately, making physically nice books will only do convertible debt, but it might even be symbiotic, because the test for what gets included in shows is basically a replacement mall for mallrats.

I think lack of movement between companies was as late as 1984. Greek philosophers before Plato wrote in order to win. You could feel like a VC who read this essay wrote: After the war on drugs show, bans often do more than the others.

At some point, when politicians tried to pay out their earnings in dividends, and many of the junk bond business by doing a small percentage of startups that get funded this way that weren't visible in the Valley itself, not because Delicious users are not all of us in the preceding period that caused many companies that can't reasonably expect to make the people who said they wanted to. But although I started using it, and all those 20 people at once, and for recent art that does. But it isn't critical to do it all yourself. My first job was scooping ice cream in the mid 1980s.

Some government agencies run venture funding groups, you have to disclose the threat to potential investors are just not super thoughtful for the desperate and the Origins of Europe, Cornell University Press, 1983. 66, while she likes getting attention in the 1980s was enabled by a combination of circumstances: court decisions striking down state anti-dilution provisions also protect you against tricks like a little too narrow than to confuse everyone with a screw top would have undesirable side effects. Living on instant ramen would be unfortunate.

To say nothing of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the red counties. I made because the remedy was to become one of the paths people take through life, the approval of an email being spam.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Jeff Weiner, Sarah Harlin, Geoff Ralston, Kevin Systrom, Aaron Iba, and Sam Altman for their feedback on these thoughts.

[angeliclxve]

Mundane Teenage Malec AU

Closed unless tagged: Harry Shum Jr.

(August 26-First day of Senior Year)

Alec wasn't the kid you pictured to be the football star or the smartest kid in school and to be honest, he wasn't. He was the kid everyone knew and sometimes invited him to parties, but he was the one that mingled with everyone and tried to stay out of the spotlight. People talked to him, having the occasional conversation, but he usually was the kid in the back of the class. His best friend was the star of the football team, Jace Herondale whom the two always seemed to be around each other. They hardly separated.

He always wore hoodies or sweaters, hiding the bruises and scratches from where his father beat him. Since Alec wasn't the star quarterback or no where near the idea of a perfect son to his father, Robert thought of Alec like a disgrace and always beat him for it. He never touched his younger siblings though, Isabelle or Max. Alec would never allow his father to hurt his brother and sister, they meant so much to him and they didn't deserve to know the fear he had growing up. His mother had died shortly after having Max, Robert also blamed Alec for that. She had went out to go pick up Alec from the skate park when a drunk driver crashed into her and killed her instantly.

Most people didn't know it, but Alec had a passion of drawing and piano. He usually was hiding in his room just drawing away or out in the city at the abandoned theatre in the middle of the city, playing the broken down piano that he fixed up.

On that fine morning, Alec had woken early and took a quick shower. He slipped on a grey shirt with grey and white hoodie on his shoulders, a pair of black jeans adorned his legs. The usual colors her bore. He took his time getting ready, seeming as he had woken up at 4 in the morning and the time that he had to wake up his younger siblings would be at 6. That was the normal routine for the eldest Lightwood, waking up early so he didn't have to listen to his father yell and scream at him as he got ready. Once 6 came around, Alec went to each sibling's bedrooms and knocked on the doors.

"Time to wake up Izzy, you too Max."

He would call to them until he heard them moving around and he'd sneak back into his room before his father woke.

Today was the first day of his last year in high school, something Alec was beyond happy with. The only thing he was worried about was the second he graduated, his father would kick him out. Then no one would be left to defend his actions against his brother and sister. Though, Alec had planned ahead on what he was going to do. He had saved up every penny he earned while working at his job in the pet sitting business in the city, and he had enough to get his own place. All he had to do was prove his father was abusing him and take sole custody of Izzy and Max, or just simply run away with them.

Once they came down fully dressed, Alec gave his siblings a smile and gave them both bowls of cereal. Izzy was starting her first year in high school, Freshman year, while Max was entering his second year in middle school. As they sat down eating, both conversating happily, Alec drank a glass of orange juice until it was time for them all to get on the bus. Alec checked to see if his father was still sleeping before they left, relief flooded him when he seen his father passed out in his bed while clutching a picture of Maryse, Alec's mother. A frown touched his lips at seeing the smiling face of his mother, guilt panging his heart. If only he hadn't have went to that stupid party- he shook his head to remove the thought.

He closed the door quietly before leaving and ushering his siblings out before him. The whole bus ride consisted of being greeted and clapped on the back by a few of his friends, already excited for senior year. Conversations of friends seeing each other for the first time since school ended, energetic tones of the girl's gushing about the hot guys, and the boys gushing about the girls. All the same for Alec. He moved when his best friend Jace came on the bus. They talked the rest of the way to school, catching up over the last week since they seen each other last.

Once at school, Alec went to his locker after waving Jace off. Yet again, he was stopped a time or two from other kids getting all excited over senior year, but eventually he got to his locker. Shoving his books inside and grabbing the essential books for class, as well as his sketchbook, then throwing them in his backpack. He turned after shutting his locker and nearly walked straight into another man. Catching himself quickly, Alec took a step back. His eyes watched in slight shock and worry at the shorter male.

"Whoa! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. I-"

He stopped speaking when he realized he didn't know this guy, which was odd since he knew everyone that went to this school district. This was definitely someone knew, and not local to New York High Schools by the look of confusion and the obvious look of being lost.

"I don't know you."

Alec finished his sentence with another train of thought.

"Sorry, that sounded weird. I-uh- I just know everyone here and I don't know you. I'm going to assume you're new. I'm Alec, Alec Lightwood."

He offered a smile and held out his hand to shake

___________Last reply_______

Alec already knew that the apartment that could hold his siblings, Magnus, and himself would be pretty expensive. It had to be able to have at least 3 rooms with their own bathrooms as well as be big enough to hold all of them with enough space so it wasn’t crowded. He didn’t know if his money at home was going to be enough, though he knew his Indonesian boyfriend would all but force him to let him help pay for expenses.

The question Magnus asked had caught Alec off guard. Instantly memories of his mother had Alec biting his lip, causing him to pause his strokes on Magnus’ back.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that she would. She would love you, she’s a lot like your mom. Kind, loving, compassionate, accepting. If she was still here, she’d make you eat a ton of cookies every time you came over.”

Alec remembered when his mother used to have cookies made every time he’d come home from school. He missed the smell of the fresh warm baked goods in the house when he walked in from school. He sighed softly at the memories, a small smile forming.

“She would try and fix your hair. Mom wasn’t fond of hair being so glittery. She would always go after my sister after she found the glitter mom had stashed for her art projects, Izzy would pour it all in her hair and run away giggling while leaving a trail of gold or purple glitter behind.”

[bruiserelliot]

Shamchat wouldn't let me post this, so yeah

This is a conversation between Pidge and yourself, Lance.

Lance: Lance walked into the green lion's hanger, seeing Pidge hunched over a computer, the screen's light reflecting in her glasses."Have you been here all night?"

Pidge: She glanced up at him briefly, then went back to looking at her screen. "Are you surprised?"

Lance: "Not really, but it was a good seg-way for this." He put himself between her and the computer."C'mon Pidge, you haven't been sleeping alot, don't try to deny it, your eyes have more baggage than Keith."

Pidge: Pidge sighed and reached around him for her laptop. "I'm busy, Lance. And I can take care of myself."

Lance: "You're always busy, you always have been busy, and you refuse to take a break." He replied, blocking the way to the laptop."One of these days you're gonna overwork yourself!" He crossed his arms as he finished speaking

Pidge: She stood. "Maybe. And it's none of your fucking business if I do. /Move/."

Lance: "Yes it is!" He retorted."You're my teammate, more importantly, my friend and I don't wanna see you hurt, especially because of yourself." He said. It was one of the most serious things he said to her since Shiro had gone missing.

Pidge: Pidge slowly closed her eyes. She didn't expect him to get it. "Lance, just fuck off."

Lance: Lance narrowed his eyes. He hated himself for what he was about to say, but then again he already hated himself for so many other things, and it was also probably the only way he'd get her to listen."What would your brother say if he knew you were overworking yourself?"

Pidge: She laughed humorlessly. "If I ever see him again, I'll ask him."

Lance: Lance's expression softened."Pidge don't say that." He sighed."Look, you're smart, definitely the smartest person on this ship, you're gonna find your family, but you still need to look after yourself."

Pidge: She put her hands on her hips. "And you need to stay out of it. Now get out."

Lance: Lance matched her pose."Not until you promise me that you'll at least get some sleep tonight." He retaliated.

Pidge: Pidge rolled her eyes. "Sure, Lance. Now leave."

Lance: Lance leaned forward."I'm being serious here for once, that should show just how much everyone's worried about you, they're just all scared of you blowing up at them if they say anything. So, please, promise me, for real this time, or I'll bring Hunk in here and he'll use the puppy dog eyes."

Pidge: Pidge groaned. "Okay, I don't have time for this right now, we'll talk about it later or something, just /move/."

Lance: Lance sighed."Fine..but we are definitely talking later." He told her as he got out of her way. The hunk threat was emptier than the healing pods at the moment, but he had thought she would have stopped fighting at that point. He put his hands in his pockets, glancing at her screen. it was the footage of Matt she'd found at the prison.

Lance: He stalked out of the hanger, closing the door behind him. He turned around, seeing the others hovering outside the door."Well?" Allura pressed. Lance sighed."She said we'd talk about it later. I don't think she meant it though." He frowned. Keith growled."Why is she doing this?" He refrained from punching the wall. Lance looked at him."Well what would you do if you had a lead on Shiro? Probably the same thing. Look, just, I'll talk to her later, she's gonna have to come outta there some time.

Pidge: Pidge went back to reviewing all five seconds of footage she had for the billionth time, the futility of the situation hitting her again. She'd analyzed everything there was to analyze. Twice. Unless she was missing something, there wasn't anything more she could do. It was /hell/. Sure, she knew he was alive, or he had been not long ago, but what then? Maybe he was safe, maybe he was being held captive, maybe the group who broke him out had pumped him for information and killed him. It was impossible to know and she had no way of figuring out where they'd taken him. At least with the Galra, she'd had a vague idea of what he was going through. Meanwhile, she hadn't found anything on her dad at all. The situation was bleak and she was exhausted and they'd lost Shiro and everything was a fucking mess and there was nothing she could do but pore over the same stupid clip over and over again for hours at a time. Lance was right, she'd have to come out some time, but not for a long while.

Lance: ~le magical timeskip to a few hours later~

Lance: Lance sat outside the door, looking at the green headphones in his lap. Back when they had first come, it had been much harder for him to get to sleep since he couldn't listen to his music without headphones. So, Pidge had given him her headphones, saying that since she could get a primary source of information, she wouldn't need them anymore. And god it had helped so much. He wanted to do something like that for her. He didn't want her to feel the way he did. She was too good for that. It's not like he could get her family back, but he did wanna show her that she had another family here on the ship, even if it was a little broken at the moment. He considered knocking on the door, but figured that would just end the same way it had that morning. It would be better to let her come to him.

Pidge: Hours later and Pidge couldn't focus anymore. She also hadn't eaten in... awhile. Oops. Totally exhausted and a little defeated, she decided it was probably time to eat breakfast (lunch? dinner? what time was it?). She yawned, stretched, then finally left Green's hangar.

Lance: Lance jumped as he heard the door open and turned to see Pidge."Uh..hey." He stood up and handed the headphones to her."I figured you might wanna hear Matt in better sound quality." He smiled a little bit, but it dropped a few seconds after."I-I'm sorry about earlier, I was probably just being annoying and that was definitely not a good way to go about trying to help." He rambled.

Pidge: Pidge hadn't really been expecting anyone to be waiting for her and she blinked at him as her brain caught up with the situation, then pressed her headphones back into Lance's hands. "Thanks, but you can't hear him anyway." She started off for the kitchen again. "Don't worry about it."

Lance: Lance smiled a little and put the headphones around his neck and followed her."So, no luck yet?" He asked. He already knew the answer, but if he got her talking maybe she'd consider trying to sleep.

Pidge: She tensed, just slightly. "No."

Lance: Lance frowned, then considerably brightened as he remembered the morning meeting Pidge had missed."Wait a sec, Coran mentioned something earlier about an overtaken galra base, what if he's there?!" He exclaimed.

Pidge: She shook her head. "That wouldn't make any sense. The group that took him was clearly well-organized. You'd have to be a fucking idiot to take over a Galra base and stay there. The Galra wouldn't stand for it, they'd annihilate the place."

Lance: Lance frowned at that."Oh...yeah, you have a point." He sighed as he opened the door to the kitchen, but jumped back as he saw everyone staring at him and Pidge. There was a second or two of silence, then everyone rushed forward, glad that Pidge was finally out of the hanger. Lance sort of stood to the side. He looked at Coran, who was doing the same."You're sure that base is still there?" He hissed. Coran shrugged."Dunno, we haven't received another message yet." Meanwhile, Hunk and Allura were practically Pushing Pidge to the table, while Keith laughed his ass off at their pushiness.

Pidge: Clearly, she'd timed her break incredibly poorly. Lance had been more than enough company on his own. She was /really/ not in the mood to contend with all of them all at once, especially when they were so eager. In truth, it all struck her as a little overdramatic; she'd been working, it wasn't a big deal. But she let herself be herded around and pretended to listen as they spoke, not saying much herself.

Lance: What Pidge probably hadn't realized, was that she'd been working for three days straight. It was hard to tell in space when you didn't have a perfectly timed sun. Lance had just happened to be the first one to notice. Said boy sat down at the table."C'mon guys leave her alone, you guys have done just as worse things before." He said, gladly shoveling in the food goo. Hunk looked at him."Oh yeah, name one time!" Lance swallowed, then looked up."When you slept in the kitchen for a week to figure out a new recipe." Allura laughed at that. Lance looked to her next."When you tried to reverse the gravity of the pool after Pidge changed it for us. It took you 9 hours to quit." He looked to Keith."And this one once spent two days in the simulator at the garrison." He was about to turn to Coran. "Alright alright, save me the embarrassment." The ginger replied.

Pidge: Pidge at her food goo without really tasting it and let the conversation swirl around her without actually joining in. Part of her brain was still back in the hangar, trying to work through anything else she could possibly be doing. Once she'd finished eating, she took care of her dishes and left for the hangar again. Maybe she'd take her laptop and move her base of operations to the lab. As much as she appreciated Green's company, it might've been time for a change in scenery.

Lance: The others watched as the youngest member of their team left. Keith turned to Lance."Does that count as a break to her?" He blinked. Lance shrugged."I guess so. But we'll just have to take what we can get." He stood up, shoving his hands back in his pcokets.

Lance: pockets*

Pidge: Pidge did wind up moving to the lab after all. She settled in and got to work, but only made it a few more hours before she finally passed out. Despite her best attempts, she was still only human.

Lance: Lance walked down the halls, looking for his young friend. He suddenly heard snoring, and followed the sound. When he found her in the lab, he chuckled and shut down her equipment, knowing she'd kill someone if they let it overheat. After that, he picked her up and, since he didn't know where her room was, took her to his room. He put her down on his bed and draped the covers over her. She heavily reminded him of his own little sister back on earth. He laid down on the floor, figuring that if Pidge could sleep sitting up, draped over a desk, he could deal with the floor.

Pidge: ((gotta go, sorry!