#they were just getting the cleanroom back

[blondiest]

happy 1 year anniversary to me freaking the fuck out at a bunch of engineers at [redacted aerospace facility] for having what is genuinely the most horrifically filthy cleanroom i could ever imagine. i would do it again in a heartbeat they were out of pocket for that

[ersatz-ostrich]

See You Again

Chapter 1: The Coffin

Jason Todd x f!Reader

You were just a teenager when you lost your best friend, Jason Todd. Years later, your life is turned upside down, and you find your way back to him. He's changed. You've changed. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

[A/N]: Me? Publishing a Red Hood fic that's been sitting in my drafts for months? It's more likely than you think. Jason is such an interesting character and there have been so many takes on him and his story that I've lost count. All I can do is hope that I do his character justice, and that I can deliver something worthy to all of the Red Hood girlies (gn) out there!

Anyways, in this fic, f!reader is a researcher at STAR Labs Los Angeles for the Polestar program, a secret research operation investigating an ancient virus revived from the permafrost of the Arctic. She gets infected with the virus while trying to keep it from falling into the wrong hands—and that's when she meets the Red Hood.

Warnings: DC-typical violence

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STAR Laboratories Los Angeles

9:43:42 PM PT

The Coffin

You hated working in the Coffin.

The Coffin, as some of your coworkers called it—a cramped bunker of a cleanroom with thick concrete walls and vault-like hatches—was practically hermetically sealed from the rest of the world, and for good reason, too. 

The Coffin, STAR Laboratories LA’s so-called Sterile Research Unit, housed world-killers. 

They were all around you, housed in huge humming floor-to–low-ceiling freezers, in vials and Petri dishes. If one of those samples got out and contaminated the outside environment, you would have a huge, messy problem on your double-gloved hands. 

Located in the basement and separated from the rest of the facility by a sizable aseptics and decontamination unit, the only living things that shared the space with you were the dormant pathogens labeled and tucked away in the Coffin’s freezers. Chatter filtered through the radio comms unit on your lab bench, which you used to relay information with the rest of the researchers, your coworkers, involved in the Polestar study. 

“L/N, how are we doing down there?” A voice crackled through the comms. It was Dr. Davis, one of the senior researchers on the Polestar program.

“Hey, Davis. I’m happy to report that the Polestar vaccine prototype seems to be well on its way,” you reply, hearing the whoosh of your breath inside the respirator you donned before entering the cleanroom. “The vaccine seems to be pretty stable right now. I’ll continue to run tests.” You heard Dr. Davis’s hum of approval through the comms.

“Great to hear, Y/N. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t d—” It was an inside joke among the Polestar researchers that the Coffin was where bad researchers who half-assed their theses in grad school went to die. The sterile bunker was indeed a daunting place to run tests, with all of its doomsday-looking decor and freezers full of deadly viruses, but you had spent enough late nights in and out of decon to make the Coffin feel more like the world’s worst bathroom stall-turned-office cubicle.

“Dr. Davis?” You finally turned your gaze to the comms unit. “Dr. Davis, do you read me?” You could hear the faint sounds of commotion filtering through the comms; cacophony that should never be heard in a laboratory. “Is anyone there?” Someone started screaming—you recognized the voice to be Dr. Lee—and your heart jumped into your throat.

The sound coming from the comms unit suggested that the radio on the other end of the line had fallen to the floor. The speaker emitted more crackly yells. 

“ Doctor—” It was Dr. Davis. He was alive, but barely. The sounds of fighting rose around him. “Doctor—dammit, Y/N, do you hear me? Stay where you are and barricade yourself in the Coffin, they’re coming for the—” Dr. Davis’s voice cut out, replaced by garbled radio feedback. Right before the radio dissolved into static, you swore you had heard him howl in pain. You stared at the comms, heart thumping in your ribcage. You were beginning to sweat in your hood and coveralls and the respirator felt heavy on your face. You tore your attention from the comms to survey the frigid lab around you. The Coffin had been reserved by the Polestar program so you could test small lab animals to observe the virus’s behavior in living organisms and develop a vaccine for it, so most of the work laid out on the benches was Polestar’s. Cages sat in neat stacks, housing the lab rodents you had been studying. You could care less about the unbelievably expensive machinery or the infected rodents that could infect humans should they escape the Coffin, though; a dip into STAR Labs and the CDC’s research grants for Polestar would replace it all. Your eyes darted around the Coffin, eyeing the huge, heavy hatches that kept you encased inside the bunker. Whoever was outside, they’d have to get through aseptics and decon, which would keep them busy for at least a few minutes as they forced their way inside. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” you muttered to yourself as you swept glass vials and syringes around on your workbench into a cluster, creating a disjointed melody of clinking glass and metal. The rats began to turn restlessly in their cages. Your breathing picked up, coming out in short, shaky breaths as you ran from countertop to countertop, stowing away glassware still full of solutions and dumping solids into the trash—you’d get back to them later, if there was even a later for you. Screw how much that stuff cost by the gram, and screw how much time you’d spent synthesizing and isolating those precipitates.

No time to think about that , you thought to yourself as you rushed back to the workbench where your radio and the vials sat. You stared at the assortment of glass vials and syringes, panicking. They can all go in the freezer, right? Or the storage vault, or…

There was no time to think. You rushed to the freezer with trays full of vaccines and viruses alike in your arms, hurriedly punching in the code and scanning your retina to open the door to the walk-in freezer. The door unlocked with a hiss, and you silently begged the automatic door to open faster as you heard the sound of a squad’s worth of footsteps stomping through decon. Squeezing through the opening, you all but shoved the tray into the nearest vacant bottom shelf and sprinted out, hammering the button to shut the freezer doors.

You heard clanking against the entrance to the coffin, one, two, three…

A blinding flash of light followed by a deafening explosion shook the Coffin, and you instinctively turned away to shield yourself. You saw tongues of flame licking the entrance to the Coffin, flooded with red light. 

Oh, shit. 

How many of the substances stored in the Coffin were flammable? You hoped the explosion that blew the enormous hatch to the Coffin off its hinges and the flames that followed hadn’t reached far enough to hit the flammable substances storage unit. 

Behind the rubble of the hatch stood a cluster of black-clad figures, outfitted with bulky body armor and gas masks. They swept the Coffin with the muzzles of their rifles before stepping over the threshold and into the Coffin. You stifled a gasp and ducked behind one of the countertops, hoping that you weren’t spotted. Maybe you could find something heavy, like a fire extinguisher, and taken one out—

“Gotcha.” 

You couldn’t help the shriek that escaped your lungs as you whipped around, grabbing the nearest thing off of the countertops—a ring stand, luckily enough, and not something more expensive or fragile—and swung it in the direction of the voice. Your eyes widened as the heavy base of the ring stand failed to meet bone—and was instead stopped in its path by a strong, gloved hand around your wrist. Your hands shook as the hand’s owner, wearing a gas mask with round, reflective discs for eyes, lowered the ring stand with one hand and aimed the barrel of a handgun at you. 

“What do you want from me,” you choked out, your mouth feeling dry as you stared down the cold black barrel of the gun. The soldier chuckled, their voice—his voice?—deep and gravelly, muffled by the mask.

“Just your cooperation.” With a jerk of his hand, he lifted the ring stand, still attached to your hand, and forced you out into the open. “You know what we’re here for.” He wrestled the ring stand from your grip and tossed it away, the heavy thunk making you wince. He took your wrist in a crushing grip, and adrenaline shot up your spine. 

“I’m just a lab aide. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied quickly, not quite confident in your skills as a thespian (or a liar).

“Oh, yeah, Dr…” Still holding the gun in front of your face, they cocked their head to check your badge. “...L/N?”

Shit.

“You know how it is…the job market’s pretty tough for Ph. D.’s these days.” You chuckled nervously. “Seriously, though, I’m just here to wash glassware.” The soldier laughed coldly.

“You seem pretty calm for somebody staring down the barrel of a gun…I bet you’re smart. Bet you know a lot about all the super secret research in this shithole, too.” You couldn’t see it, but under his mask, his gaze settled upon something on the floor. “Maybe you could tell me a little about this thing right here.” You followed his line of sight and felt your blood go cold.

How could I have—

He nudged the syringe with the toe of his boot so that it rolled right to you. It took all you had to keep yourself from lunging for it. Your eyes caught the biohazard symbol printed on the label and you felt yourself die a little inside.

The Polestar virus was on the floor. The deadly ancient virus you had resurrected was in a syringe on the fucking floor. 

“Hmm, not sure how that got there—” Your words were taken from you when the barrel of the handgun made contact with the flesh of your chin, forcing your head back.

“Enough! Tell us where the virus is and maybe the actual lab aides won’t have to mop your brains off the fucking floor.” You grimaced.

“It’s right there,” You replied through gritted teeth. “In that syringe.” Keeping the gun’s sights on you, the soldier stooped to pick up the syringe. “It’s in a liquid suspension that was supposed to be for the rats. We were running tests—” You caught yourself rambling before you could divulge anything more damning. Maybe it was the gun pointed at your head and your life on the line, but you felt like your brain was out to lunch and had thrown out all common sense before it left. “—well, the bottom line is…just don’t break that syringe. The virus inside is viable and dangerous.” The soldier laughed again, this time more arrogantly.

“I don’t c—”

“I’d listen to her if I were you.” You, the soldier—everyone in the Coffin—turned to the source of the modulated voice. A huge silhouette passed through the sanguine lights of decon. The glint of the red helmet caught your eye first, then the red bat insignia splashed across the figure’s armored chest. 

Huh.

That posture—the way the helmeted figure stood to make himself look bigger—tickled the back of your brain. Your train of thought, however, was stopped short by your captor yanking your wrist and wrapping his free arm around you in a headlock. He trained his gun at the red helmet before you, who produced a pair of his own firearms.

“Don’t shoot,” your captor barked, and you realized what was in the hand that was clutching the fabric of your PPE. You struggled to break free, but the body behind you felt like a pillar with armor for cushioning. “Or she goes with me.” The helmeted Bat slowly lowered his weapons, which earned a smug huff from your captor, whose grip loosened on your PPE. You sighed in relief and started to extract yourself from you felt his arms quickly wrap around your neck again, making you cry out.

“No!” The helmeted figure called out. You heard the crack of the gunshot and the sound of the bullet meeting flesh. You felt warm blood—not yours—splatter on your face and trickle onto your coverall and you shuddered. You felt the soldier, impossibly heavy, slump over onto your body and slide to the ground. The gunfire of his squad mates erupts around you and you see the red-helmeted newcomer duck behind a glovebox and return fire. You dive for cover, watching the soldiers drop behind you. You see the red helmet emerge again to take out the last of the soldiers, engaging in hand to hand—these fighters seemed to be highly trained—and putting the occasional bullet through the weak points of their armor. The last bullet casing fell to the floor with a resounding ping! and you heard boots moving towards you once more. 

“Are you okay?” 

It hadn’t occurred to you why the soldier had held on so tightly to your PPE—you hadn’t felt the little prick in your collarbone when the gunfire had started. Dread pooled in the pit of your stomach as you slowly lowered your gaze to where the syringe stuck out above your clavicle, only dredges of fluid left, the black-and-yellow biohazard symbol turned up to the light like a bright and deadly flower. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: We are hitting the ground running! Hope that was a good start to this fic.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 4

Lee and Armand try to get a handle on David's powers of suggestion before being interrupted by the delivery of yet another weird artifact. David goes for a bike ride to clear his head, only to end up complicating things further by causing some unexpected changes with some unexpected results.

1 | 2 | 3 (Previous) | 5 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass growth // Dick growth // Suggestion // nsfw

---

“You transformed Jamal? The new barista upstairs?” asked Lee.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” added Armand, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s already like nine feet tall or something.”

“Well yeah, he is now,” I said, exasperated by the disappointed parents routine I was getting back in the cleanroom. “But he wasn’t an hour ago. Or he was, in a different…timeline or whatever. Which is now this timeline. Or I was in a different timeline. Or the universe just sort of shifted or something, I don’t know.”

Jamal, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, was a possibly genetic, possibly magical anomaly who really did top out at just over nine feet. Why he insisted on keeping his barista job was even more of a mystery, but he was obviously a local attraction wherever he went, leading the coffee chain that managed multiple shops in town to rotate him around location to location, a boon to underperforming and under-trafficked franchises like the one in our building. The line was out the door whenever he was working, with people wanting a selfie, wanting to see him bumble behind the counter with surprising grace in spite of hands that made the espresso machine look like a toy, or just wanting a glimpse at the pipe running down his khakis that was conveniently around eye level and impossible to miss. If you were lucky, he liked you, and the timing was right, you could get an up close and personal experience. I was proud to say I was one of the lucky few ‘regulars,’ and in my recent metaphysically horny state, he had hit just the spot in one of the backrooms. Though it still, somehow, didn’t quite measure up to what Lee could throw down.

But now I was back in the evil snowglobe, feeling like I was facing punishment from sharing what I thought would be exciting new data.

“So, you just talked, and Synt followed suit?” asked Armand, jotting hurriedly into a notepad.

“Sort of? There was kind of a crescendo, maybe. Like Synt found a conduit through my vocal chords and we had to get into the groove. But I don’t think it’s automatic, like I couldn’t just say Armand grew–”

“Whoa whoa whoa, let’s slow down,” Armand cut in, hands splayed in caution. “Before you put a whammy on me, too.”

“I mean,” I gestured to his overstuffed crotch, “I kind of already did.”

“Oh! Oh wow,” Lee cut in, rubbing his chin as Armand stood speechless and gaped at his prodigious bulge. “But from your perspective, Armand, from both of our perspectives, it’s…”

“Always been that way,” Armand finished, cheeks reddening. “Or at least my entire adult life. It would make sense. I’ve never had a medical professional successfully explain my…condition. I just sort of got used to it, I guess. Or I was always used to it.” 

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “So we’re getting it now. It’s all about multiplicities of temporal perspectives. We’re all just cosmic threads weavin’ around each other.” I tried to visualize this with a rushed jumble of hand motions, which unfortunately didn’t land with the other two. “But I could probably fix it. I think. Maybe. I don’t think Synt would be on board for a reduction of any sort, so we may have to strategize.”

“No, there’s nothing to fix. I mean, it’s a lot to deal with, but I really am cool with it. My dating life is a mess anyways, and once you get known as that guy with the sixteen inch dick, the luster kind of wears off. I don’t really know what it's like being��normal.”

“The methods are messy to say the least,” said Lee, “but we may be starting to get somewhere. As much as we would love to keep investigating, further tests might have to wait. The park ranger guys are sending over some artifact they found and I think they’re due any minute.”

As if on cue, a nervous tap on the door reminded the three of us that as much as we would like to play around with my shiny new body morphing, reality shifting chaos magic we all had other work to do. I was getting up to take the back exit and head upstairs when I felt a tug in the direction of our visitor. My attention was pulled by some strong magnetic force toward the door as whoever was trying to enter awkwardly began pushing it open. Unconsciously, my foot steps shifted direction as the attraction felt stronger and deeper. And oddly familiar. Eventually, I recognized this feeling as Synt having their interest piqued enough to guide me to physically move in that direction. I was not a fan of this new development in our dynamic, but decided to see where it led.

“You need some help?” I offered, trying to play it off as me moving to give them a hand with the door rather than me being compelled for yet another mysterious reason.

“Nah, I’m good,” came a familiar voice, and as the door fully opened, I recognized Blake’s ass as it entered the room before the rest of him. “It’s just hard to maneuver this thing.”

It took me a second to realize he didn’t mean the globes of his ridiculous bubble butt, becoming the undeniable center of attention as he backed through the doorway, but actually the cart he was pulling with him. As the door swung back and he casually bounced it away with one hip, I couldn’t stop staring. I thought at this point I would be used to comically ballooning backsides, his most of all, but it looked even bigger than it had last night. In fact, as he entered the room the rest of him looked bigger too. If the seams of his pants and shirt sleeves had been strained beyond all reason last night, then now he was one strong sneeze away from public nudity. I thought maybe it was just the change of scenery, like how fitness influencers will take advantage of good lighting to show off a juicy pump, but I was pretty sure he was…bigger. Lee and I exchanged glances as if to wordlessly reassure each other that we weren’t just imagining that Blake was noticeably taller than he had been last night. The subtle accusatory squint of his eyelids was returned by a sharp look of denial from me. This wasn’t me, I thought. Unless, possibly it was. Maybe the growth last night had a slow release function, or some sort of chain reaction.

I mentally relayed Lee’s suspicious squint to Synt, who responded with a deep rumble of appreciation. They had a fixation on Blake, I now realized, and those two teaming up could be a disastrous combination.

“You want this in the uh, special circle?” Blake gestured to the circumference of sigils which were now glowing with an even higher brightness and frequency. That can’t be good, I thought.

“Yeah, that’s fine until we figure out what to do with it,” said Armand. “What is it, by the way? The report they sent in was kind of muddled. But then again, so is everything from the Marshlands.”

That place again. I was transported back to some spot on the map that I couldn’t identify, felt pushed out of space and time. Threads weaving, fraying, overlapping, forming fractal patterns down to quantum scales, building higher dimensional frameworks of cross-temporal superpositions, all coming together right there–

“...so we couldn’t really even tell how old it is, which is where we hoped you guys would come in,” Blake was saying. “Palmer, you got any tips?”

I snapped back to reality at the mention of my name. I had spaced out again, unclear for how long.

“I, uh, need to get back to my office,” I said. “I can look into it once I have the preliminary analysis from Lee and Armand.”

“You sure?” Blake asked, in that way that wasn’t so much a question but an unspoken invitation. I found my shoulders relaxing and my mind wandering. His easy smile was so intoxicating, but there was also a glint in his eyes. A hunger, as he seemed to casually look me up and down, almost as if he was seeing through me. Synt was laser focused on Blake, a low pressure system of gathering power causing the sigils to change color, which I didn’t even know they could do. He clapped a strong hand against my bicep (when had he gotten that close) and said, “Anyways, always good running into you. Let me know what you find.” 

Again, I felt that electric thrill run from his body into mine, except it was more like neurons firing. I had more clarity than last night and I could feel a complex undercurrent beneath that hunger, a need for something more, a vision of something bigger. The dam was once again threatening to burst, but I now had solid control over my own legs and began briskly heading to the door with a terse “Yep, I’ll keep you posted.”

I practically sprinted back up to my office, terrified of accidentally touching anyone for fear of producing another ten foot freakshow in the building for the second time that morning. My mind was a whirlwind of my own ever present horniness, mixed with Synt’s unrelenting power, and their clear frustration at being taken away from their favorite willing subject. Blake was becoming their muse, in some weird way, and we both needed a pressure valve. But underneath Synt’s frustration was something else. My own itch of power and possibility and the knowledge that I could so easily scratch it.

I tried to be productive at my desk that morning. My muscles would clench periodically as I held in waves of Synt’s magic, my body and mind fatiguing in the face of an unstoppable force. Taunting me, Synt would dangle images of possibilities so close within reach. How easy it would be for Blake to expand into a wall of juicy muscle, having to turn his body to get his shoulders through the doorway but having his bubble butt get stuck anyways. Armand was already cool with having a monster cock, maybe he’d appreciate an even twenty inches. That’d look amazing. And would it hurt to give Jamal a few more inches in height? Maybe even a foot? I imagined him walking into my office growing steadily taller, head bumping against the ceiling then punching through as plaster rained down–

I slammed my palms firmly on the table and stared for as long as possible at a wall of unread emails, comprehending not a single one.

“I need to get some air.”

—

I took the stairs and headed to the bike rack around the back of the building. Walking around aimlessly felt too risky in the state I was in. Too much proximity, too many opportunities for accidental direct contact. I had felt like I could see into Blake’s soul when he grabbed my arm, like I could’ve granted his wildest, horniest fantasies with a thought. I shivered at the knowledge that Synt would co-sign exactly this brand of recklessness. I felt like I was burning with static. I could practically see it dancing along my skin. I was in no condition to be milling about in a crowd until I got around to relieving even a fraction of this pressure.

“David!” hailed a voice nearby as I was squeezing on my helmet. I looked over to see Noah, my former student who had been blessed (or cursed) by Synt in more ways than one. Not only did he end up with a set of hips and ass cheeks that comically ballooned from his otherwise thin frame, but had also fallen into a pattern of stumbling into bigger and bigger dicks around town. I reasoned that the man with him was likely his latest beau, due not just to the hand wrapped around Noah’s tight waist, but the snake smuggled into his right pant leg. The spell, apparently, had not yet been broken.

“Noah!” I responded, “looks like you’re doing as well as possible after this last semester.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This reminds me, I need to chat with you again about that…positive feedback loop I’ve been dealing with.”

“I can imagine,” I winked, pretending not to notice the twitch of his acquaintance’s massive bulge as he shifted his hand down to rest on Noah’s round booty. Was Noah just magically happening on these already huge dicks or was he unknowingly bending reality every time he set his eyes on a new crush? Was there an upper limit? To any of this? Much to investigate, I thought, but resolved to cut the conversation short before my imagination once again got the best of me. “Shoot me an email, I’ve got plenty of time this week,” I said, speeding off away from campus.

I hadn’t had time to change into my cycling gear, not that those lycra shorts did anything to mitigate the size of my ass. I had made peace with the fact that my bodacious buns were simply always on display, in this instance encased in a skirt and tights, the bike seat completely disappearing beneath them. There wasn’t much I could do about it, and honestly, I liked the attention.

I felt free weaving through the city streets, regardless of the fact that I was fighting for my life against late morning traffic. It was a welcome respite from the stifling air of my office, the wind cooling me down and alleviating at least some of the magical irritation covering my entire body. I didn’t know where I was going, and didn’t really care. Plus, I was moving too fast to focus on any one person for long enough to give them an impromptu BBL. Instead, the cityscape just felt like waves of passing static, tiny glimpses of people’s fantasies and desires that were gone as soon as they were detected, with the occasional ping of attention from a pair of eyes that had locked on to my bubble butt as it cruised through their field of vision.

For the length of a few city blocks, one of these pings of focus didn’t seem to leave me, and as I came up at a stoplight I turned around to see another cyclist flashing me an awkward and quickly thrown together smile of greeting, as if to insist that he hadn’t just been ogling me up and down. 

“Can’t blame ya,” I said with a smile and nod, plus a wink for good measure. He was cute. He looked like he was a bike messenger by the rectangular pack balanced behind his shoulders, the well developed forearms and quads, and a look of practiced exertion that said he wasn’t just out here for the endorphins. I was sure he was perpetually in a hurry, so I figured I should literally get out of his lane while on my metaphysically horny break from work. 

I meandered right as he continued straight, letting my eyes linger on his meaty calves just long enough to almost crash headlong into a sporty coupe in a mediocre attempt at parallel parking. I swerved out of the way as he honked and yelled “Dick!” just loud enough for me to hear through the half rolled down driver's side window. 

What I said in response was not my wittiest comeback or even the most well thought out public interaction, but I had to offer a counter while still within earshot. But as I yelled “Super dick!” back at the finance bro emerging from his car, I immediately regretted the decision, feeling Synt’s power slip through the ether.

“You know I didn’t mean that!” I said aloud to the otherworldly being in my head. “You don’t understand epithets? Metaphors and what not?”

They sent the impression of a lazy shrug.

“What does super dick even mean? Like what did that do?”

Another shrug.

I was worried. What did I just accidently curse this guy with? Should I go investigate? What would that even mean? I thought maybe I could fix whatever it was. Use some string of words to undo whatever it is I just did.

I circled the block, parking my bike in front of the fancy building my unsuspecting victim had presumably been about to enter. It looked like it probably had moderate security and I had no plan of entry, and was definitely not dressed like I had any important business downtown. Entering through the big glass revolving doors, I locked eyes with the security desk, trying to look as casual as possible on my approach while they gave me a bored once over. In my performance of nonchalance, I glanced to the left and breathed a sigh of relief as I spotted my mark at the register of a lunch place on the bottom floor. With a curt smile to security, I changed direction, slipping into the line of the sandwich shop.

In the bustle of the lunch rush, I spotted him sitting on a stool at the bar along the window, drinking a green smoothie, scrolling on his phone, and pulling out a small laptop. I kept my eyes on him as the line progressed, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but he was the image of business class normalcy, perched on his stool in a designer suit and tapping away at some spreadsheet.

I picked up my sparkling green tea and bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich (I actually was hungry) and found that one of the few available seats left was, luckily, right next to him.

Incredibly, he seemed to be unaware that I was the person who had almost taken off his side mirror with my right hip, studiously ignoring me as I ate my sandwich and glanced at my phone to see multiple texts from Lee. I opened the latest one but was interrupted by a grunt of discomfort from my new friend. He shifted in his seat and glanced briefly at me, his cheeks reddening slightly as he continued working. A few minutes later, another shift in position, chugging the rest of his smoothie before folding his hands into each other and resting his head against them. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he glanced around quickly and held himself in a tense position, trying to focus on his laptop screen. 

When I was just about to return to whatever it was Lee felt the need to triple text about, he let out a heavy sigh as his breathing deepened, then glancing around again, carefully got up and turned towards me.

“Watch my stuff?” he asked tersely, the sheen of sweat on his face turning to visible beads.

That’s when I felt it. The now familiar resonant strum of reality warping magic that told me Synt’s power was at work.

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled through bites of my sandwich, my eyes flitting down as I noticed a jump of movement along his pant leg.

“Thanks,” he grunted, turning to power walk to the bathroom, his bubble butt–which I didn’t remember being there before–swishing back and forth in his slacks.

I waited a solid twenty minutes–okay, more like fifteen–before following him to investigate further.

As I entered the bathroom, it was empty except for one occupied stall, the lemony scent of cleaning products overlaid with something musky and slightly metallic. There had been a soft moan coming from the occupied stall, which seemed to self-consciously quiet down in response to the sound of the door closing and my footsteps heading to one of the urinals. I did my business like normal as the moans slowly increased in intensity, interspersed with grunts and low utterances.

“Oof, fuck,” I heard a whisper, recognizing what little I had heard of the finance bro’s voice.

“Is everything okay in there?” I asked innocently with a light knock on the stall, knowing good and well some supernatural fuckery that I had personally caused was well underway.

“All good, I just–augghhhh!”

You’ll have to believe me when I say the stall door opened on its own.

My new friend was sitting on the toilet with his pants up and his fly open. He was breathing heavy and drenched in sweat, eyes widened in surprise as he saw me standing there, which shifted to a look of lust and urgent need as he drank me in. He seemed in visible distress, which probably had something to do with the rock hard dick that was reaching into the air just past his left shoulder. 

“Sorry, I–” he was cut off as it seemed to jump up another inch, spurting a glob of precum that fell to the floor. His hands slid desperately up and down the length of his shaft, each one barely able to reach halfway around. With another spurt of pre, I noticed his fingers slightly pushed farther apart.

“It…it won’t stop until I…”

“Not my first rodeo,” I cut him off, entering the stall fully and closing the door behind me. “Do you mind if I help?” I asked, gesturing to his angry purple cockhead.

He nodded enthusiastically in relief and anticipation, his face contorting as another spasm hit.

Even with my repertoire of accidental and deliberate magical augmentations, I could only extend my jaw so far, struggling to make it several inches down his massive member, starting slow and building with intensity.

A little help here? I asked Synt, who responded with gusto, my mouth and throat suddenly seeming to defy the laws of physics as I eased farther and farther down the shaft. Finance bro was blissfully unaware of the pocket dimension that his dick had now fully disappeared into as his head lolled back in ecstasy.

“No one’s…been able to do this…in so long,” he muttered as his breath became erratic and he began involuntarily thrusting into me.

I worked my way diligently up and down, now moaning along with him in pleasure as I swallowed his impossible schlong. His whole body began to spasm with burgeoning orgasm, blasting several shots of jizz directly into my throat that I hungrily gulped, hoping whatever this pocket dimension situation was could also handle his huge load.

I pulled myself off his dick, his mushroom head emerging from my lips with a pop. But as his eyes rolled back and his breathing continued to crescendo, I realized he wasn’t done. Those had actually been the initial volleys to what turned into a geyser of cum, gushing uncontrollably against the wall for at least another thirty seconds, rope after rope splattering behind him as he tried desperately to bite back a primal scream that would have definitely alerted the rest of the establishment (and maybe even the offices above).

Finally, he spent his load, visibly exhausted. He leaned his head back as his dick began to mercifully deflate, landing softly on his face and leaving a trail of slime as it shrank to a much smaller, but massive by any other standards, flaccid state. 

I heard a loud gurgle emanate from my belly full of jizz, along with a wave of disorientation that left me leaning against the wall for support. Noticing this, he came back to his senses, his blissed out grin fading into self-conscious clarity.

“This uh, happens sometimes,” he said, with an air of comically misplaced masculine professional decorum that was so out of place I may have actually laughed out loud.

“Sometimes?” I repeated, as he carefully maneuvered his donkey dick back into what looked like a specially made pouch running along his pant leg. My stomach gurgled again, louder this time, and the wave of disorientation came along with a full body spasm. I felt my muscles tensing and becoming denser with muscle as my body stretched against the fabric of my carefully fitted clothes, my ass expanding to press up against the door behind me. When I came back to my senses, I recognized the wave of disorientation as a sudden growth spurt, leaving me a couple inches taller. This might as well happen, I thought, taking note of how the top edge of the stall was now right at eye level. During my brief ordeal, finance bro had jumped up to support me with arms that were much stronger than they looked, a bold move seeing as I had already towered over him.

“...Yeah, no idea,” he said, as if referring to a WiFi outage and not a magnitude jumping jizz volcano baseball bat dick that also apparently had its own growth powers. “Hey, uh, text me sometime,” he added, then materialized a business card in his hand, and slipped it into my pocket. “You were amazing.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a jocular pat on my butt, then turned to stroll out of the bathroom like he hadn’t just painted the wall with cum.

Men. I managed to be exasperated in spite of being wildly horny, not to mention mildly worried about the magic mega wang that I had accidentally set loose on the city. Maybe I should follow up with him, just to fill him in on this whole situation, I thought. But it seems like he’s actually doing fine.

Mmhm, came a self-satisfied smirk from my companion.

I cleaned myself up as best I could, debating whether I should leave a tip with a note attached apologizing for the large puddle of jizz in the middle stall. As I looked myself over in the mirror, I noticed that while I had grown, it hadn’t been by that much in terms of basic physical metrics, but I seemed…more powerful. Like inherently I knew my musculature was much more capable than it looked–and it looked like I was verging on pro bodybuilder. “Super dick,” I mused, with a wry smile.

I came out to see my bathroom dalliance strolling coolly down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the window, heading back to the pretentious coupe that started all this. I tossed what was left of my lunch, walked out, grabbed my bike, and resolved to make it back to the office without incident.

—

Incident came ten minutes later as I pulled up to a stoplight and found myself parked behind my cyclist friend. Now it was my turn to fall into a trance at the sight of his toned, heart shaped bubble butt.

“Can’t blame ya,” he said with a wink.

And now it was my turn to blush as I was caught staring. My encounter with the finance bro had left me even more riled up with still no release, and I was losing any cool I thought I had.

“We’ve, uh, gotta stop meeting like this,” I said with a nervous chuckle as I caught his gaze.

“No, we can definitely keep meeting like this,” he retorted. 

“Cute and confident,” I said. So it was a meet-cute. “Aren’t you at work right now?” I teased. “Or is the messenger bag just for show?”

“For you, I’m on break,” he said with a defiant smile.

“Oh so this is just your workout,” I replied, deciding to test the waters for a little fun. “You’re not skipping leg day apparently.”

“Look who’s talking!” he exclaimed with mock surprise. “You sure you’re not an Olympic cyclist with those yams?”

“Yams? It’s all aesthetic, you’ve definitely got me beat.”

And there it was. I felt Synt’s power slip out, my eyes widening in realization. How did I not catch that? I thought.

Time–the relative timespace of this conversation between me and my bike messenger crush–seemed to slow down and shift textures. Through Synt’s extrasensory abilities, I could again see timelines breaking, shifting, and reforming in the space around the cyclist’s lower half. His quads, hams, and glutes–especially glutes, I noticed–seemed to pixelate and come back together as they found the path of least resistance to match Synt’s interpretation of my command. I stared, awestruck, as his musculature seemed to inflate in real time as it moved through temporal lenses, his cargo pants adjusting along with the growing shelf of ass overtaking his bike seat, until suddenly they were replaced with lycra, stretched tight across a colossal booty. Still the same heart shaped ass, just scaled up and disproportionately juicy on top of some serious hamstrings.

“Haha, guess so,” he said, with the air of someone used to people staring blankly at his huge cakes. “Honestly, I thought this bike gig would slim me down some, but it just seemed to make things worse.” He patted one round cheek, sending a jiggle through his lycra shorts that could stop traffic.

The light changed, signaling that the meet-cute was drawing to a close.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said. “Name’s Devon.”

“Uh, David,” I responded, as he kicked off and cruised through the green light. I stood entranced by the ass I had just magically inflated, before I got myself together and headed off in a different direction back towards my office.

You know I didn’t mean that, I said to Synt, who didn’t seem to care.

---

I did feel somewhat relieved as I jogged up the stairs of my building, yet still in persistent need of some sort of relief. Finding the door slightly open, I was pleasantly surprised to find just the person who could tide me over.

“Lee!” I exclaimed. “Thank god you’re here. You down for a quickie?” 

“That’s not why I’m here,” he responded. “But, I mean, yeah,” he followed up, long dick jumping down his pant leg in anticipation. Lee lounged against my desk, his lithe body posted up casually as he flipped through some book that he had happened to grab off the shelf, probably bored waiting for my return. Instead of the usual easy smile with an undercurrent of indulgent lust, he looked all business, like he had an important message. “Did you get my emails? My texts?” he asked. “We had some…interesting preliminary findings from the artifact that Blake brought in. Wait, are you taller?”

“Interesting how?” I asked, stripping off my leggings before remembering to kick the door closed behind me. “And yes, I’ll fill you in on the latest.”

He shut the book, leveling a look of tentative excitement in my direction, briefly obscured as he whipped his shirt off. “We need to go do some fieldwork.”

[blueempty]

Someone forgot to pay the cloud bill bro they shut off our clouds

Didn't quite sleep enough but my partner made pancakes this morning. Then since I got paid I went to our local boba place for lunch before work. They had been using some kind of mexican food wrappers for their sandwiches for a while but they must've run out cuz they're back to normal. It was just funny seeing bahn mi wraped in sombreros and cacti and stuff lol

Me and my brother have some deep ass philosophical conversations about shit at work that are lost like tears in rain every time we leave, I wish we could figure out what to do a podcast about. I guess you can just talk about nothing if you talk enough. People would get sick of me shitting on Sonic Frontiers though

While I was mentally preparing to go into the cleanroom I finished what I believe to be the last low rank village gathering quest in Monster Hunter GU. So now I'm in this gauntlet of fighting the low rank versions of half the games monsters and its gonna be fun cuz striker Longsword goes stupid. You still have to try though, like, man, I was playing Rise the other day and I love that game but I need to institute some sort of handicap cuz I feel like I'm losing brain cells when I play that game. You're so overpowered. Especially Longsword and Swaxe. I gotta get rid of evade extender

The stars were fuckin mentol tonight. The first pic I didn't even adjust thats just how they looked. I was staring up for like 10 minutes outside work

Peace and Long Life

[trickster-whim]

There was a box in the way in the hallway, and it turned out to be a lot of my notebooks from high school and college, and looking through them was a trip.

Mostly I just wanted to blog the notebooks I decorated way back when.

I was walking home from the store one day when I found a roadkill copy of a Star Wars novel; a lot of the book was missing, and what was left had definitely been run over and was dirty and ripped. Perfect for crafts!!

I used to write all my stories in notebooks (and also used these for school), so I had a whole big stack of composition books (spiral notebooks are evil if you're left-handed), and I had a big old bottle of mod podge.

Some of these notebooks were more planned than others, but they're all just so fun. I used to just slap stuff together for fun, and nowadays I just kinda.... don't. It's a good way to use small scraps of paper and cool stickers.

The last notebook is in the kitchen because I'm writing my recipes in it. And it also has my old latin homework lol.

And just because I can, two other notebooks (well, one and one set)

I used to draw at work a lot, on napkins and cardboard boxes and stuff, and one of my coworkers brought me a Hannah Montana notebook to use instead. Perhaps a little misguided, but I appreciate the thought! (It is full of TF2 fanart, which helps me pinpoint the time I got it, lol.)

And these cleanroom notebooks! They may be spiral, but they're the best notebooks. Great size, kinda small so they fit in a purse, small spirals that don't hurt the old hand too much, plastic cover so you can forget it in the rain for a little before it gets ruined, nice color and a college rule (I used to write really, really small, so I like tiny lines), etc etc. I love these notebooks, and I looked through them and read some of the old stories, and they're cringe, but I'm free.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: @honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

[knifeshoeoreofight]

DISCLAIMER: I’m trying to get back into writing so I’m tossing out the first bit of writing that has come easy in months. It’s unedited. I have plans to continue but it may take a while to get back into things. 

Part 1 of ? 

Sid didn’t know quite what he’d expected when Dr. Bettman had sidled up to him after his presentation at the July microbiology conference, but it hadn’t been this. 

“The Russians have something interesting,” the man had said, with oily glee. “Something….game-changing. Revolutionary, even” 

Sid has never liked the man, but the idea of a special invitation for access to top-secret Russian extraterrestrial research findings had been too great a lure. 

Also, he had been bored. So terribly, terribly bored. He was between major projects and had nothing on the horizon but the impending semester and throngs of clueless, wide-eyed undergrads. So. for some reason the idea of taking a sabbatical and hieing off to the Russian hinterlands had seemed like a good idea. He’d started to think he was wrong two days ago, when the airstrip his fourth plane of the journey had landed on had no identifying marks or signage. 

He has no idea where he is. 

The layers of security are mind-boggling. There is paperwork where he is asked to practically sign his soul away. There are several military checkpoints armed with flinty-eyed men toting machine guns. There is a long drive in a rattling military transport van before a sprawling complex comes into view, ringed with yet more chain link fencing, meters high, topped with loops and loops of barbed wire. 

What the hell has he gotten himself into? 

All this, for what he had assumed were just chemical components. A moon or a planet possessing a few of the building blocks of life. Are the Russians paranoid, or is there something more at play here? Have they found the unthinkable?  Something truly earth-shattering, like DNA fragments or rudimentary bacteria?

Once inside there is more security. Airlocks, decontamination chambers. Sid is made to disrobe and don a set of scrubs, and cover that with a cleanroom suit and a face mask.  No one speaks beyond barked directions that Bettman interprets for him. Finally, they enter an elevator, which descends and opens onto an anteroom. They pass through a double set of what look like blast doors into a long, hallway-like room with concrete walls and ceiling. They have to be underground by this point.

There is the low murmur of voices and electronics. At least a dozen people dressed just as Sid is are bent over an array of monitoring equipment along the right side of the room. Others cluster to the left, the light falling on their faces indicating an as yet unseen window recessed  into the concrete of the wall. 

Bettman chortles, and the sound makes Sid’s already humming nerves reach their breaking point. 

“Ok, Doctor,” he tells Bettman tersely. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

“See for yourself. After you.” The man’s tone is odiously smug as he gestures into the room, but Sidney steps forward as indicated. 

Two steps forward, and all he can see is the far, empty corner of the room behind the window. 

Three steps forward, and Sid’s world implodes. 

There is a figure there, huddled in the far corner of a massive concrete-walled chamber. The surface of its skin blazes with phosphorescence, so bright that it’s hard to make out details of its face and body. It’s humanoid though, but all wrong. Too long, too thin, too tall, apparent even as folded up as it is. A cluster of extra limbs or tentacles radiate out from its back, drifting gently in the air as though eddied by invisible currents. 

Dotted patterns of light flow down its limbs in soft waves, reminding Sid of cuttlefish changing color. It’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and when he manages to draw a breath it comes out ragged, like a sob. 

His eyes are wet, and there’s a ringing in his ears that muffles whatever self-congratulating drivel Bettman is spouting at his elbow. Something about a crash landing in the Siberian tundra. But Sid doesn’t listen as he walks towards the window, transfixed. He lays a hand against the cool plexiglass, and watches as the being beyond it shifts its position, long spindly arms folding even tighter around itself as the lights on its body flicker from blue-green to deep violet.  

Something about the way that it’s sitting fills Sid with a bone-deep grief. Logically, he knows that assigning human emotions or behaviors to whatever… whoever this is is a mistake, but he can’t help but ache at the way it looks, trapped, and pressed into the corner of a concrete box like a caged animal. 

“We want to analyze bacterial samples taken from it and the craft,” Bettman is saying. “Which is where you come in--” 

The being goes still. Sid holds his breath. Its drifting appendages pull in, like an anemone sensing danger. 

Sid is unable to stifle a soft noise of protest. 

“Dr. Crosby,” Bettman is saying impatiently. “The samples are this way--” 

Sid ignores him. He raises his other hand to the glass and as well and continues to watch the being. He can’t shake the feeling that is simultaneously the best and worst thing he’s ever seen. 

“Is it dangerous?” he asks, interrupting the flow of Bettman’s words. “Is that why it’s locked up like this?” 

Bettman blinks at him. “It..needs to be studied. We must learn everything we can, the technological advances alone--” 

Sid tunes him out again. He turns back to the hypnotic play of light against the being’s skin. As he watches, he can see that there are discolored patches that interrupt the flow of light. It could be natural coloration, but it could also be-- 

Bruises. 

I’m so sorry he silently tells it. I’m so sorry. 

All of the lights on its body suddenly flare. It unfolds, swaying to its feet. Sid sucks in a shocked breath. It’s easily eight or nine feet tall, and it moves towards the window with a slow, heavy grace that reminds Sid of someone trying to walk under water. Soon it looms before the window. Sid can’t move. Dimly he can hear the nervous reactions of the other people in the room but pays them no mind as the being folds itself down, oddly human-like, to bring its face level with his own. 

It has no nose, or ears, or other features, just a slit of a mouth and two enormous eyes, pupil-less and iris-less, glowing a soft yellow. The extra appendages swirl, the tips of them blazing as the lights on its body lighten from violet to pinky-magenta. It presses an immense, spindly hand to the spot where Sid’s is still pressed to the glass, two fingers and a slightly off-set thumb. 

Its mouth yawns open. The glass is inches thick but Sid can still faintly hear a throbbing low frequency roar that resonates in his chest and makes the glass tremble. Its mouth closes and it leans even closer. Its face is covered in little dots of light, like freckles. It rests its forehead against the glass. 

There’s a strange, humming pressure behind Sid’s eyes. His vision blurs. Then, words, so foreign-feeling he knows they aren’t his own, drop into his mind like stones into a pond. 

Help. Me. 

[askforimagineoroneshot]

Clean one (Split!Dennis x reader)

Anon: Hi can you do Split imagine. I love James McAvoy and his movies and I love your writing so :D. If you could do Dennis x reader where she knows about his DID. They meet in doctor Fletcher's office. She is her assistant for the program. She is intelligent but he at first thinks she is unclean (like other girls) but then hears her conversation with the doctor about her past and decides to ask her to go with him on dinner. Plus the date?Thank you so much and I understand if you don't want to.

Hope you like it. I also I am trying to write it from character's point of vue

I saw the movie like million times and I love it. I also saw Glass If anyone is interested. I love James as an actor and as a human. He is great, funny, intelligent and talented. 

I watched the movie and I love it. Imagine is shorter, sorry. Hope you like it anyway. 

Gifs are not mine. Imagine is!

MASTERLIST

Dennis' point of view 

It was hard to focus on something else then ours purpose. It wasn't right thing to do. I knew that but it was hard. She is something special. At least that's what I think about her. I am not sure. 

Well that is not important. I have task in front of me. I am doing something important, for us. for beats. I just got them. Three of them. That wasn't plan at first but I had a chance and I dealt with the situation. 

I putted them to my place, under the ZOO. Like we planed. Everything was like it was suppose to be. Like I did it before for beast. I was here to be dominant. I was the one that took care of everything. 

And I am working on it right now. I had little problem with others that don't understand why I am doing this for us, for beast. They thought it was a bad thing to do. So they wrote to doctor Fletcher on her mail address. 

So right now I am heading to her office dressed like Barry acting like Barry so I can talk to doctor and took that suspicion out off her head. 

“Welcome, come in.” said woman in grey hair. 

I did what she said with smile on my face. I had some papers in my hand that I found in Barry's room. They were some pictures of some ideas for clothing. I honestly didn't care about them but I had to look at them since we will probably talk about them. 

I am here to know what doctor thinks about the situation with the emails. It can be problematic. I don't need her to be suspicious about anything that's going on. She is trying to help us. I can not mess this up I will not mess this up. 

“Please sit down I will be with you in a minute. I had to deal with something. It will be just a moment.” She said when we walked to the living room. 

I give her a polite smile and sit down. “It is okay. Take your time.” Well, I am not happy that this will take longer but what can I do about this. 

I looked around me. It's not a cleanroom. Flowers in the water on the table are dead. Leafs are on the table beneath it. The carpet is not drained. Floor doesn't look clean either. I got up to git better look at the room. I walk to the bookshelf. There is dirt on it. 

What is she doing all day long. Why can't she clean her mess. 

“What do you want me to do? Shoot him?” I heard from the other room. 

Who is it? What are they talking about. Well it is not doctor Fletcher. I got closer so I can hear them better. 

“No, Y/N. I want you to report him. He is abusive. He doesn't understand that you two aren't longer together.” 

“Do you really believe that will help? I move across the country to get away from him. That didn't help either.” 

There was a lot of emotions. I was surprised to. I didn't know that Y/N had moved because of the man that was following her. I thought she was not different then other women around me. But I was so wrong. She is clean. 

I heard steps so I sit down again. I sit like Barry. I must look like idiot. I feel like an idiot. 

“Oh hello Barry.” Y/N said when she saw me. She must be on her way out. 

“Hi.” I smiled. This is so unprofessional. 

She walked away without any other word.

Time skip

Y/N's point of view

It was weird. Jason didn't call me in like week. I am not complaining but it is just weird. Like I don't know what to expect to happen now. 

I am in doctor Fletcher's office now. I am working on some papers like always. One more hour to go and I will be home. I will get myself a coffee and a good book. 

“Is everything alright? You seem off today.” I heard female voice behind me. 

“Yeah I am.” I putted the pen down and looked at her. 

“Is it Jason again?” she asked. She looked sad. 

I know she cares for me. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel home. 

“Actually, I haven't heard from him like for week. Did you reported him?” I asked her. This could be it. 

“NO. You said you want to take care of it yourself.” She took seat on my table. “Maybe it is a good thing. That he gave up. Don't you think.”

“It is. Just I am nervous about it. What if he is up to something. But maybe I am imagining things.” I got back to my work. 

It didn't take long and I was packing my things. I was alone in the office. I am use to that. I am always locking the building. I am last one here. 

It was getting dark outside. But it wasn't cold. 

I was about to leave when I heard the doorbell. I got nervous. Who was it? This late. I ran downstairs and looked through the camera who was it. I was afraid that it will be Jason. But no. It was Kevin or one of his personalities. 

I opened the door. I knew I was safe with him. 

“Hello.” I created him. “Doctor Fletcher is not here anymore, but I can call her if you need her.” I said to him. 

“Good evening.” He said to me. Now I know it is Dennis. He is nice guy in his own way. He likes to have control over the things, he has OCD but that doesn't change anything about the way I look at him. 

“No, I am here to talk to you.” He said. As I was waiting what he will say next I looked at what he was wearing. He looked nice like always. He was dressed in long slew shirt with buttons. With that dark trousers. He look formal. 

Maybe he was doing somewhere. Who knows.

“Well what did you want to talk about? Do you want to go inside?” I asked him. I don't want him to be uncomfortable. 

“No. it's okay. I don't want to go upstairs. It is not clean there.” He went right to it. Like he always does. “I was wondering if you had some plans for this friday.” 

That is something I didn't expected. Not this subject or the way he just asked me. But I am not angry. Not at all. I am just shocked. But in a good way. It got me happy, looking forward to the date. Was it date. 

“Are you asking me on date?” I smiles. I felt shy like a schoolgirl. 

“Yes. Do you want to go out with me?” he put his hand behind his back not in shy way. He was dominant. And I kind of dig it. 

“Yes.” I smiled more like an idiot. 

“Okay. I will pick you up at seven at your place. Have nice evening.” With that he left. 

Wow. How did that just happen. 

I got back in for my staff. Wait how does he know where I live? Maybe we talked before about it. Well. Anyway I am happy and I am looking forward to it. 

Only if I knew what was I getting into. 

[padfootagain]

More Than Coffee (II)

Part 2: Right Stranger

Okay, here comes part 2, because I'm a hopeless romantic, really, and I need cheesy softness in my life.

Also, just so you know… yeah, I'm a scientist. Yeah, I majored in nanosciences, which included thorough classes on nanotechnologies. Yeah, I've spent a lot of time in cleanrooms. Yeah, all the science in this is accurate. If you need some illustrations for what I'm talking about, ask me.

So damn cute, so damn cute… be prepared!!

Gif not mine

Word Count: 4376

He had not come back to the Starbucks in four days. It was his second try since that rainy morning.

No matter how hard he tried to play it cool, he couldn't get you out of his head. Every time he let his thoughts drift off, they landed onto you, waves forever rushing to the shore.

He tried to force his mind to stay away from you, but failed miserably each time. He repeated himself again and again that if he never saw you again, then it was nothing. There were no regrets to get from the mere fact that his path and yours would not cross again. But then, why did he feel like he was missing something important by being unable to find you? It was a feeling that started down his stomach and spread through his frame up to his heart until it left a sour taste in his mouth. Something bitter. Something he needed to erase. But how could he, besides by finding you? He saw no other way.

Perhaps when he would see you again, he would realize that there was nothing particular about you at all. Perhaps you were nothing more than cute. Perhaps you were just attractive. Perhaps the radiance he had seen emanating from you was just a game of the light, perhaps your eyes were not really so magnetic, perhaps your features didn't look as kind as he remembered.

Surely his brain had exaggerated simple features and characteristics he had noticed, when in reality, there was nothing more about you than a very ordinary woman.

He had always believed in love at first sight. His friends had mocked him often for it, but he didn't really care. It wasn't about being cheesy, it was about acknowledging the truth that sometimes, people you barely knew took up an important space in your life, and you didn't really know why. It was like gravity pulling a planet towards a blackhole. It was impossible to get out of it once caught in its force. And if the feeling was not real love at first, it was still indescribable and strong. He couldn't think that this was what was happening now though, he reckoned he was overreacting to the whole thing. He just had to get you out of his head.

No, no matter what idea he came up with, the only solution was to see you again to finally get you out of his system.

His blue eyes scanned the Starbucks in search for your face as he stood in line to pass his order. He let his gaze wander through the room, hope making his heart beat a little faster. One time, two times, three times his eyes roamed the café and could settle on nothing but empty chairs and tables and strangers' faces. He couldn't refrain a disappointed expression as he accepted that you were not there.

He sighed as he walked to the counter. He forced a smile for Mary and asked for his favourite tea.

She hesitated for a moment, but there were no customers after him, so she reckoned that a little chat wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Don't look so sad! Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied with another forced smile. "It's just a silly thing… nothing really."

Mary was not as shy as you. She had a talent to dare and accomplish things you would never even dream of. And she proved it once again, as she bluntly made assumptions that ended being correct, although Richard struggled to admit them even to himself.

"If you're looking for Y/N, she's already gone to work, you're a little late."

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, but his blushing cheeks and the red colouring the tip of his ears betrayed the truth.

"I wasn't looking for her."

"But you remember who she is even after almost two weeks…"

He let out a breathy laugh, his cheekbones turning crimson.

"I… I do, yeah…"

He winced, flattening his lips until they formed a thin pink line.

"You've kind of caught me there, haven't you?"

"Looks like it."

"I must sound like such a creep," he tightly shut his eyes and winced even harder, letting out a low, frustrated groan that started in his lungs and echoed through his ribcage before passing his gritted teeth. "I'm not a psychopath, I swear. I just…"

"Well, you couldn't take your eyes off of her that day…"

"No need to insist, I think we've both got your point…"

He passed a hand on his face.

"I was just being silly. Don't mind me," he shook his head, and right then Mary's colleague called his name and he picked up his cup of Earl Grey. "Have a nice day."

But Mary was not done yet.

"She comes here every Friday evening, around 6."

Richard froze. He had taken only a couple of steps. He turned his head ever so slightly towards Mary, but his back was still to her.

"She comes here and we go out for a walk or a drink. If you come back on Friday, she'll be here. Just thought you might be interested. At least, you won't need to stalk her anymore."

"I ain't stalking anyone," he replied with a touch of outrage in his voice.

But Mary laughed.

"Again, you're free to come or not. But you should. She's an amazing girl. And she couldn't take her eyes off of you either that day."

His eyes drifted back towards the exit door. The sun shone shyly, hidden by thin clouds. The street was busy with strangers and cars and bicycles and winds blowing. He couldn't see any of it though.

"Really?" he asked, his voice a little more fragile.

"Yeah. Really. So… will you come?"

A small smile curved up his lips, but he didn't even notice.

"We'll see."

And with that, he stormed out of the café.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

 What kind of week was that?

As you waited in the cleanroom for the thin layer of metal to be deposited on your sample in the vacuum chamber, your mind was wondering off. You kept an eye on the pressure inside the chamber and the voltage applied on the metallic target. The metal was now being sputtered by ions moving with high energy through the plasma formed inside. You checked one more time the inside of the chamber, but the characteristic purple colour of the argon plasma showed that all was fine in there. The ions accelerated by the voltage applied on the target at the top of the chamber hit the metallic circular piece, thus tearing atoms from its surface. It was then a slow fall for the metal atoms towards the substrate at the bottom of the chamber, as their neutral charge made them unsensitive to the voltage applied through the chamber. Your eyes travelled down to your sample, but it was a little too dark in the reactor for you to distinguish anything yet, the cylindric chamber would have to be open for you to see any detail on your substrate. You checked the time. Twenty minutes of deposition left, then shutting down voltage, waiting for the plasma to die out as the pressure dropped again, then come back from vacuum to the pressure of the room… yeah, you were stuck in there for an hour more or so.

You were starting to feel hot in there, your body covered from head to toe by your white cleanroom suit, overshoes on your feet, your hair imprisoned under a hood, your mouth and nose covered by a mask, to which you had to add for security purposes gloves and goggles. Besides these two items, everything you wore was not meant to protect you, but to protect your samples from the dust and hair and bacteria and tiny cells of skin that you dropped in your wake. The only piece of skin that was not protected was the thin line of your cheeks between the goggles and the paper mask. Every breath you let out made condensation appear on your goggles. The pressure in the clean room was higher than outside, to make sure that the polluted air of the corridor could not enter the room, but after three hours spent in there, you were starting to feel a little dizzy. To that, you had to add the orange light that bathed the entire clean room. As you used photosensitive resins to prepare your printed circuits, it was obviously necessary to get rid of the white light from outside that would without a doubt destroy your resin. But after such a long time spent in a room with orange light, you were certain that when you would walk out again, the rest of the world would be blue to you.

You heaved a sigh as you wrote down the value of the tension applied, which was perfectly stable, and had been for the last ten minutes. That wasn't the most interesting part of the job, but it had to be done.

But all this wasn't the weird part of your day, and it wasn't even the weird results you had gotten out of electronic microscopy, no… it was the fact that… actually there were several weird facts about week :

-Your colleague Jeremy had not been complaining about the fact that your experiments meant spending three hours with you in the cleanroom. Indeed, for security reasons, as you were in a closed environment, no one was allowed to go in the cleanroom alone. When you started in the lab, you were paired up with a colleague, and it was then your job to try to make your two schedules fit to go in there together without impacting too much the work of the other. You thought again about the fact that you were the only woman in the team, thus had been paired up with a man. You just hoped that you wouldn’t ever have any chemical on you that would require you to go through the decontamination shower, because that would mean getting naked before Jeremy. He was a sweetheart, to be honest, and gay, so he would not take advantage of the situation in any way. Still, it would be strange. Although, now that you came to think of it, you would probably not care much about getting naked before Jeremy if that was to happen and you got, let's say, hydrofluoric acid on you. Then you would just try to not die.

But you brought your train of thoughts back to the fact that Jeremy had not complained about how long you would need to be locked together in this room, which was extremely rare. He was a sweetheart, but he also loved to complain.

-Your mother had called in the morning asking for your Christmas present. It was September still…

-Your boss had for once not been talking with you for an entire hour straight. Instead, he had calmly asked you about your weekend and had found himself contented with your short answer, before disappearing in his office.

-Your calculations were working. It was so rare, you had checked them four times just to be sure, but they were working.

-And finally, the weirdest of all, Mary had talked about the handsome stranger again.

Yes, the one who had almost burnt you with your own coffee just a couple of weeks before. She had mentioned he had come back. But you couldn't see how that information mattered. After all, the only thing you knew about him was that he was called Richard. And that he was handsome as hell. And that he drank Earl Grey tea.

That wasn't much…

Why had Mary mentioned him again?

A knock on the door leading to the decontamination airlock made you jump on your stool, and you hurried towards the door, while Tao was already opening it, but staying outside the clean room and inside the airlock as he wasn't wearing any protection needed to access the lab.

"What's up?" you asked, welcoming him with a smile he couldn't see under your mask.

"McEwan wants to see you," he said with a discreet Chinese accent. "Now."

"I'm in the middle of an experiment…"

Jeremy appeared by your side.

"What's going on?"

"McEwan wants to see her," Tao repeated.

"I can keep an eye on your sputtering," Jeremy offered. "I'm done with my etching."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. I'll write down your tension and take care of shutting it all down if it takes you too long. And knowing how chatty McEwan is, you might not see the daylight again today…"

You heaved a sigh.

"Alright, thank you to you both," you nodded to your colleagues and closed the door of the airlock behind you as you stepped in with Tao and started to take off all your protections.

A couple of minutes later, you were stepping in the corridor again, but needed to stop for a few seconds before being able to walk ahead, your head spinning.

Yep, the entire world appeared blue. And that was most disturbing. No matter how many times this had happened to you, you never got used to it.

But eventually, the colours came slowly back to normal, and you were able to walk down the stairs to visit your boss.

Pr. Daniel McEwan was a distinguished scientist in the community of nanoelectronics and materials. His major breakthrough had allowed to diminish the size of the capacitors and thus, the thickness of mobile phones…

But you couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He was not the kind of man to summon a fellow scientist in his office. Were you in trouble?

You didn't even have time to knock that your boss was already welcoming you with a smile partly hidden under his large white beard.

"Ha, come in, come in! Y/N, good news! We have to plan things out right now, the hotels can be hell to book."

"Hotels?" you asked back with raised eyebrows. "What?"

"Do you remember the nanoelectronics conference in October?"

"In New York? Yes…"

"Well, congratulations, you're presenting there."

"What?!"

"You're abstract was selected. Congratulations, you have a full session!"

Your mouth dropped and for a moment you couldn't hear the elder man rambling about the conference and the things to book and…

You were going to New York?! To the conference on your area. And you were going to give a talk.

You felt your head starting to spin again.

"But I've only been here for six months, I don't have enough results…"

"You have almost two months left, it's more than enough time to get a fair amount more! Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have all you need. Now, come on, take a seat, take a seat. We're going to book our hotel and flights and everything right now."

You didn't question the fact that he was going there too, after all, he was a reference in the field.

A smile slowly started to form on your lips…

You were going to New York!

 -----------------------------------------------------------------

 You were overexcited as you told the news to Mary. You hadn't even bought a coffee, you had merely stormed in the quiet Starbucks and burst into this excited little bomb you were now.

"I'm happy for you!" Mary answered with an excited smile that matched yours.

"I'm going to have so much work…"

"Don't think about it yet, Y/N. For now, you just celebrate."

"Let's go get some drinks then!" you happily exclaimed.

Mary laughed.

"Alright, but there's something you have to take care of first."

"What is it?"

"Someone has come to see you."

"What?! Who?"

"Do you remember the handsome guy from the other day?"

"Who… Richard?" you asked before heaving a deep sigh and pinching your nose in annoyance. "When are you going to stop mentioning that guy? I'll never see him again anyway."

"You do remember his name, though…"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your discomfort.

"Yeah… well… he was hot, after all."

"Then, you might be happy to know that he was looking for you."

You frowned hard.

"Looking for me?"

She nodded, mischief sparkling in her brown eyes.

"And he's sitting at the table right over there."

You followed her glance and…

… indeed, there he was.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Finally. There you were, standing by the counter. Even more beautiful than what he remembered. He could feel butterflies flying through his stomach, his heart was rushing, he was nervous all of a sudden and yet so excited. He couldn't look away, it was as if his gaze had been captured. He tried to force his brain to obey, but it didn't, and he kept his blue eyes fixed upon you. There was this warm, fuzzy feeling coursing through his very soul as he looked at you, like he was safe, like he was happy, like he was home…

He had always believed in love at first sight. He wasn't of the cynical kind. He did think that two people, just by seeing each other, could establish a connection. Of course, it wasn't actual love, the real feeling came with knowing each other, with laughing together, with crying in the other's arms, with comforting the other, with kissing, joking, being silly, getting through fights and then apologizing and breaking the other's heart just like our own but repairing it everytime, singing out of tune in the car on the highway, looking after the other when they're sick, teasing, offering gifts, listening, talking, being there…

But this bond he felt connected him to you? It was just as real. Was it what love at first sight felt like?

Over the days flying by, he had managed to convince himself that this string he had felt pulling on his heart and guiding him to you was nothing but a flash of madness. A result for his lack of sleep, at best.

But there you were again. And he couldn’t deny the truth that his body reactions showed him very clearly.

He liked you…

You seemed happy. You were talking with Mary, and you were smiling and you looked excited. He guessed you were bringing some good news. God… how gorgeous you looked when you smiled…

But then you turned towards him, and caught his eyes when he wasn't expecting it, and he found himself short of breath, short of thoughts, short of nerves, short of… everything.

He mentally slapped himself for reacting so stupidly, but he couldn’t help it.

He saw Mary pushing you a little, and you glowered at her, before focusing on him again. And you actually started to walk to him.

He was panicking. Which was ridiculous, because he had been wanting to see you, although the reason for his desperation to find you again was merely to get over this silly crush of his and forget all about you, but things were clearly not going as planned, and now… hey, hey… Now he was rambling in his own head, wonderful…

He swallowed hard and stood up to join you, meeting you halfway.

"Hi," he smiled.

He couldn't breathe. He reckoned he was lucky to have been able to let out a single word. He could feel that he was blushing and hated himself for it. He buried his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans and stood before you in an uncomfortable way.

And you would have been lying if you had pretended that you didn't notice all these signs. Was he… nervous? Could you really make a man like him nervous?

Well, he for sure could make you nervous. You reckoned that all these symptoms, he could find them written all over your frame too.

"Hi," you answered with a shy smile. "Mary said you wanted to… see me?"

He closed his eyes and winced, dropping his chin against his chest and heaving a sigh that turned into a groan in his throat.

"I know that sounds bad and creepy, but it's not… what I meant all this to be."

"It's okay," you reassured him.

He looked up at you again, and you recognized a glint of hope in his eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"Just so we're clear… I've just come back here and hoped to see you again in this Starbucks, but I haven't done anything weirder like… following you or trying to get your number or anything…"

You laughed.

"I believe you," you reassured him again. "I… don't really understand why you wanted to see me, though."

He raised an eyebrow, and his blue stare turned a little more intense than before. There was a tension then that wasn't there a second ago, and you felt your heart pounding in your ribcage.

"Do you really have no idea?"

His Scottish accent was like honey in your ear. There was something almost magic about it. What was it? It couldn't be just his accent, it had to be something about his deep voice too, his deep, low voice…

You felt your knees tremble a little and rested a hand onto the back of the closest chair for support.

"I… I don't know."

Which was actually true. You had no clue what was going on whatsoever at this point.

He opened his mouth to answer, but looked for his words for a moment, stuttering in a very adorable way.

"I… hmm… I just… I… Okay, this is terrible, I'm sorry. Huh… I just wanted to see you again and… hmm… I hoped to have, perhaps… if you'd like that… a chance to talk with you. About yourself and… and you."

He hated himself so much at this point, he reckoned he would have rather jumped under a bus than face this humiliation he was experiencing right now.

Meanwhile, you reckoned that his shy behaviour was the cutest thing you had ever seen. But wasn't it all completely crazy?

"I… I don't know, I mean… We don't know each other at all," you replied.

"Yes, but that's why I'd like to see you. We could… grab a coffee or eat or do anything you'd like, really."

He stopped himself from rambling too much.

"I mean… we can't get to know each other better otherwise. And I really would like to know you better. Or at all, for the matter."

You both laughed, which seemed to make the two of you relax a little.

"What if we just come here and grab a coffee together," Richard proposed. "It doesn't have to be more than just that. Just… one coffee. And if you don't like me at all, you can call it a day and I'll never bother you again, I promise."

You considered the offer for a moment. You knew nothing about him. And yet… how could you feel like you had known him all your life? You wanted to say yes. God, how much you wanted to say yes. You were terrified, but you reckoned it was more than time for you to stop letting your fear win.

"Okay," you nodded. "We can see each other here."

He smiled the brightest of grins.

"Great! Next week? Or… does it feel creepy if I offer tomorrow?"

You laughed at him.

"Tomorrow sounds good. Let's say… at 5, here?"

"Brilliant. Perfect. Great."

He mentally slapped himself again and it seemed enough to stop his rambling.

"I'll give you my number, just… if you need to call for whatever reason. Like… if you have a problem and want to change the time or something."

He looked through his pockets and found a pen but no paper, so he walked back to his table to grab his empty cup and wrote his number on it, before handing it to you.

It's only at the sight of your amused smile that he noticed that this was pretty ridiculous.

"I… You could have put it directly in your phone too…"

"Yeah… but that's okay. It's cute."

He chuckled in response.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," you smiled at him, and he nodded.

"Yeah… huh… have a nice evening then."

"You too."

"Yeah…"

He walked backwards to grab his brown jacket, smiling at you, but he bumped into a chair and jumped at the contact. You both exploded with laughter.

"You haven't seen that. It never happened," he ordered, still laughing.

"Of course… Never happened."

He grabbed his coat and waved at you, letting one last 'bye' before striding towards the door. He couldn't stop himself from turning around one last time though as he pushed the door open, and you waved at him too, mouthing a 'goodbye'.

He walked out and didn't stop until he had reached the corner of the street a few meters further. He rested his back against the stone wall and let out several breaths, gasping a couple of times, a grin on his lips and his eyes round with disbelief. He loudly laughed with a high-pitched voice.

"Wow…"

He bent down to slow down his heart and try to force his brain to realize what had happened, resting his hands on his knees, although he could feel his entire legs shaking.

He had a date.

With you.

The next day.

He was certain he was having a heart-attack now…

He finally stood straighter again, leaning against the wall behind him, and he looked up at the grey sky with disbelief oozing from his entire being.

"Holy shit…"

And while he could barely believe what had happened and tried to convince himself that all this was real, you were still in the coffeeshop. You had dropped on the chair closest to you the second Richard was out of sight, and Mary was now shouting hysterical shrieks through the café.

"YOU HAVE A DATE WITH THE HANDSOME STRANGER!' she shouted at the top of her lungs, and you were both lucky the Starbucks was empty at the moment, but for the baristas, who seemed to be used to Mary's craziness by now.

"I have a date…"

"YOU HAVE A DATE!"

"I have a date…"

You repeated the words again and again as to force sense into them, but you could barely realize what it meant.

You were grinning as you whispered.

"Holy shit…"

**************************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi

@htariq @infinitelyforgotten @theringostarfanclub @davidbuddbg @kimmietea @xphantomphanphanaticx

[maxismatchccworld]

Sims 4 Patch Notes

UPDATE: 4/16/2019 – PC 1.51.75.1020 / Mac 1.51.75.1220

Happy April, Simmers. Nice to meet you! Maxis hired me as a freelance writer to work on these game update notes. (Side note — if you find a problem, blame SimGuru Graham — he’s my editor.) In all honesty, it’s a pretty sweet gig. I got to see the new Expansion Pack, Game Pack, and Stuff Pack that the team is working on, and did you know that they bring in bagels on Fridays? But hey, enough about me. Being a freelancer, I’ll be gone again before you know it.

Anyway, funny coincidence; there’s actually a brand-new Freelancer career arriving in this update that’s free for all players. I was playing around with it earlier, and go figure… my Sim self earns more money as a freelance writer than I do! Geez; guess I’ll have to live out my fantasies of getting rich through The Sims again. Looking beyond the new, free features though, I’ve got to say… those SimGurus really knocked it out of the park with this one. Just look at all those lovely fixes to many of the top discussed community issues!

Well, let’s get to it, shall we? Here’s everything you’ll find in this April update. Have fun!

Yours truly,

Sue D. Nym

Freelance Writer Extraordinaire

NEW CONTENT

Freelancer Career

Freelancer is a brand-new type of career. Sims can choose to be a Freelance Artist, Programmer, or Writer, and will work through an agency that will connect them with a variety of gigs. Unlike other careers, there’s no defined work schedule to worry yourself over. Need some extra Simoleons? Smash through a few gigs in a single day and get paid! Need some time off? No problem – plenty of gigs will be waiting for you when you’re ready to get back to work. Your office is wherever you want it to be. Perhaps a quiet corner in the local library, or maybe you’d prefer a home office decked out in the new set of office furniture? You’re your own boss, so the choice is yours! Completion of gigs across the different agencies will lead to a variety of rewards, and ever-increasing pay. Really, it’s the best Sims career Maxis has ever made. [Sue, please… remove this. No editorializing. – SimGuruGraham]

New Objects

This free set of home office furniture and decor is ideal for your burgeoning Freelancer Sims!

Bookcase: Edgier LadderCase

Desk: Anglette Desk

Desk Chair: The Professional

End Table: A Cute Anglette

Decor: Not So Simple Pen Holder

Decor: Hand Reference Model

Decor: Robo, The Friendly Circuitry Kit

Decor: The Note Book

Laptop: FreeRoam Portable Computing Device

Wall Decor: Better As A Pair Of Paintings

Wall Decor: Supreme Freelancer Award

New Clothing

Freelancers tend to want comfy, but professional outfits. We’ve got them covered with the following new pieces of clothing.

Women

Men

A cable knit cardigan outfit

A sweater and skirt outfit

A layered sweater

A pair of flats

A collared sweater

A button up shirt

A crewneck sweater

A pair of drawstring pants

Moschino

In collaboration with Moschino, your Sims can now enjoy an item from the Moschino X The Sims Capsule Collection. The new Freezer Bunny hoodie can be found in the Create a Sim catalog.

Immaculate White Shelf

I could have buried this down in the Fixes & Updates section, but… it’s kind of a big deal. There’s now a plain white version of “The Immaculate” shelf available in Buy Mode!

[Note to self: Sue seemed super excited about this. It sure seems like something we should do more of… – SimGuruGraham]

FIXES & UPDATES

The Sims 4

Sims will travel to the correct venue when invited out to an event by a NPC Sim.

Fixed an issue where the UI would occasionally indicate that a Sim was at work, when they were actually at home, which would block access to the Sim’s inventory.

Sims will no longer receive random phone calls from other Sims between the hours of 8pm and 10am, allowing them to enjoy a full – and speedy – night’s sleep.

Fixed an issue where multiple music tracks could end up looping and playing simultaneously.

Expecting parents will once again be able to “Take Family Leave” via their phone to take time off from work.

Fixed an issue where a Sim who had cheated with another Sim romantically, were then unable to successfully propose to that Sim and get married.

Fixed an issue where Sims in the eSport Gamer branch of the Tech Guru career were not earning money when programming video games.

The Pick Up Serving Together interaction will no longer cause one of the Sims involved to fail to route to the food.

Fixed an issue where interactions on the Digitalistic Sketchpad object would disappear if a Sim’s actions were canceled while they were picking up the Digitalistic Sketchpad.

Updated the Digitalistic Sketchpad object so that creating paintings on it will satisfy Aspiration goals and work tasks that involve painting.

Fixed an issue with the Lin-Z Smart Speaker, where the interaction to hire a Gardener would remain unselectable, even when the home had a garden that needed tending.

Sims will now look at the Lin-Z Smart Speaker when speaking to it.

The “Pre-Owned Painter’s Easel”, that’s unlocked via the Painter career, will now provide an Inspirational emotional aura, instead of a Focused emotional aura.

Fixed an issue where staircases were not rendering properly while held by a mouse cursor.

Updated positioning of overlapping Search & Reset buttons in a player’s catalog within the Gallery.

Adjusted icons of Lunar New Year recipes to better display what food you’re looking at within an inventory.

The children’s Yin & Yang Necklace will no longer clip into their neck when wearing a shirt that’s tucked in.

The “CleanRoom” wall pattern, which was previously missing a name for its 5th color variant, has now had that specific color variant named “Like Sand”.

Added the ability to click through different pack art on the main menu for any of the packs you currently have installed.

A new content alert icon has been added to individual careers within the Select a Career panel, to help players find new careers that have been added to their game.

Note: If a save file created prior to this update contains a Sim that’s already in this bad state, simply traveling to another lot with that Sim will permanently fix this issue.

As far as I’m aware, this is the only instance in the game where a color variant has been given a unique name. Huh… neat!

Mac

Fixed an issue for Mac users with Intel integrated graphics, where the mouse cursor would not move properly after adjusting the shape of a Sim’s body in Create a Sim.

Removed an outdated file that was causing a false error message to appear for 64-bit Mac users that said, “The Sims 4” is not optimized for your Mac and needs to be updated.”

Get To Work

Scientists will once again wear an appropriate outfit when going to work even if StrangerVille is not installed.

The “Chemical Analyzer” object can now be purchased from Build Mode without having to use a cheat.

Fixed an issue where selecting the Randomize from Gallery option until receiving an alien Sim, and then further randomizing that specific Sim, could result in a naked alien Sim.

Made updates to the list of valid objects that can be selected as the outcome of the SimRay’s “Transform Object” interaction.

City Living

Fixed an issue where objects from multiple festivals were appearing on top of each other in the neighborhood simultaneously.

Apartment landlords will now leave the apartment immediately after addressing a tenant’s complaint.

Added the ability for Sims with the Vegetarian trait to hire a Vegetarian Caterer by clicking on Stoves or Refrigerators.

Vegetarian Sims will no longer enjoy eating Mud Carp.

Cats & Dogs

After installing this update, Sims who adopt an animal after befriending them will be able to become companions with them and lecture them for misbehavior.

Fixed an issue where hungry pets would not eat from food bowls autonomously.

The pet toy box will no longer have its position rotated in a random direction when a Sim returns home from an active career.

Fixed an issue where the “Litter-Matic Scoop-Free” litterbox wasn’t looking clean after cat poop had been removed.

Fixed an issue with the Pet Adoption Agency, where they would occasionally show up at a Sim’s home without any pets to adopt, and would simply stand at the home’s front door and not do anything.

Note: Sims who have already adopted an animal after befriending them, in a save file created prior to this update, will continue to experience this issue. We’re investigating a separate fix for this issue in existing save files.

We’ve placed the magic gnomes responsible for this in the naughty box alongside SimGuruNinja.

Seasons

Updated the Gardening career so that Sims will earn more than 10 Simoleons per completed work shift.

Fixed an issue where on days where no holiday was set to occur, a Sim’s work schedule would update to falsely indicate that the day was a Holiday just prior to going to work, causing the Sim to stay home for the day.

Fixed an issue where NPC Sims were not autonomously using the skating rinks that appear in certain neighborhoods.

Toddlers will no longer attempt to queue up behavior to “Run Inside” during bad weather conditions if they’re already inside.

Fixed an issue where Sims voices could not be heard when Singing Together around a Holiday Tree if City Living was not installed.

Get Famous

The Acting career task to “Get Into Hair and Makeup” can be successfully completed once again.

Fixed an issue where celebrity Sims who had been set to use their normal walkstyle were switching back to using the celebrity walkstyle after traveling to certain types of venues.

Three star celebrity Sims will no longer use the celebrity walkstyle.

Dine Out

Players who have City Living installed can now add the Siopao and Ensaymada dishes to their restaurant’s menu. Yum!

Vampires

Vampire Sims created after installing this update will be able to continue to gain points after reaching the rank of Grand Master.

Fixed some circumstances where Vampire NPCs could appear at a venue and prevent the player from being able to save the game.

Fixed an issue where NPC Vampires would have their Vampire Energy drained after completing a load, which was causing them to idle in place instead of performing their expected autonomous behavior.

Note: Vampires that already exist will continue to experience a problem with gaining points after reaching Grand Master. We’re investigating a separate fix for Vampires in existing save files.

StrangerVille

Fixed an issue where Sims that had been shared to the Gallery after completing Act 1 of the StrangerVille Mystery would be blocked from progressing in the mystery when downloaded from the Gallery into a new game.

The following environment objects, which were created for StrangerVille, have been added to the Build Mode debug catalog to allow placement on lots. Players must enter the bb.showhiddenobjects cheat before they can be seen in the catalog.

Added proper images to the Officer and Covert Operator branches of the Military career.

Removed the “Question about Spores in Lab” interaction for Sims who have already acquired the Modified Hazmat Suit.

Removed the “Heart of the Pack” styled look from Create a Sim, as it was authored using clothing that’s only available to Sims that have joined the Military career.

Updated the pack information panel on the main menu to not display world objects under the Build Mode Items.

10 different cacti

3 different Joshua trees

3 different RVs

2 clusters of rocks

2 junked cars

A group of desert flowers

A military truck

A tire

A parking stop

My First Pet Stuff

Fixed an issue where deleting/selling the rodent habitat could cause the game to become unresponsive.

Holiday Celebration Pack

The Crown Roast platter will now show a partially eaten state when half of its servings have been taken.

I’d like to adjust the wording here, as this issue was not specific to stray pets and there may be confusion. The bug was happening if you became Friends with the pet before using the Adopt interaction. You HAVE to become Friends for Adopt to become available on a stray, but some users were encountering this by petting their computer-adopted pet a bunch of times before hitting Adopt.

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (April 16th, 2019)

There’s a new Sims 4 PC update available via Origin!

Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game!

UPDATE: 4/16/2019 – PC 1.51.75.1020 / Mac 1.51.75.1220

Happy April, Simmers. Nice to meet you! Maxis hired me as a freelance writer to work on these game update notes. (Side note — if you find a problem, blame SimGuruGraham — he’s my editor.) In all honesty, it’s a pretty sweet gig. I got to see the new Expansion Pack, Game Pack, and Stuff Pack that the team is working on, and did you know that they bring in bagels on Fridays? But hey, enough about me. Being a freelancer, I’ll be gone again before you know it.

Anyway, funny coincidence; there’s actually a brand-new Freelancer career arriving in this update that’s free for all players. I was playing around with it earlier, and go figure… my Sim self earns more money as a freelance writer than I do! Geez; guess I’ll have to live out my fantasies of getting rich through The Sims again. Looking beyond the new, free features though, I’ve got to say… those SimGurus really knocked it out of the park with this one. Just look at all those lovely fixes to many of the top discussed community issues!

Well, let’s get to it, shall we? Here’s everything you’ll find in this April update. Have fun!

Yours truly, Sue D. Nym Freelance Writer Extraordinaire

NEW CONTENT

Freelancer Career

Freelancer is a brand-new type of career. Sims can choose to be a Freelance Artist, Programmer, or Writer, and will work through an agency that will connect them with a variety of gigs. Unlike other careers, there’s no defined work schedule to worry yourself over. Need some extra Simoleons? Smash through a few gigs in a single day and get paid! Need some time off? No problem – plenty of gigs will be waiting for you when you’re ready to get back to work. Your office is wherever you want it to be. Perhaps a quiet corner in the local library, or maybe you’d prefer a home office decked out in the new set of office furniture? You’re your own boss, so the choice is yours! Completion of gigs across the different agencies will lead to a variety of rewards, and ever-increasing pay. Really, it’s the best Sims career Maxis has ever made. [Sue, please… remove this. No editorializing. – SimGuruGraham]

New Objects

This free set of home office furniture and decor is ideal for your burgeoning Freelancer Sims!

Bookcase: Edgier LadderCase

Desk: Anglette Desk

Desk Chair: The Professional

End Table: A Cute Anglette

Decor: Not So Simple Pen Holder

Decor: Hand Reference Model

Decor: Robo, The Friendly Circuitry Kit

Decor: The Note Book

Laptop: FreeRoam Portable Computing Device

Wall Decor: Better As A Pair Of Paintings

Wall Decor: Supreme Freelancer Award

New Clothing

Freelancers tend to want comfy, but professional outfits. We’ve got them covered with the following new pieces of clothing.

Women

Men

A cable knit cardigan outfit

A sweater and skirt outfit

A layered sweater

A pair of flats

A collared sweater

A button up shirt

A crewneck sweater

A pair of drawstring pants

Moschino

In collaboration with Moschino, your Sims can now enjoy an item from the Moschino X The Sims Capsule Collection. The new Freezer Bunny hoodie can be found in the Create a Sim catalog.

Immaculate White Shelf

I could have buried this down in the Fixes & Updates section, but… it’s kind of a big deal. There’s now a plain white version of “The Immaculate” shelf available in Buy Mode!

[Note to self: Sue seemed super excited about this. It sure seems like something we should do more of… – SimGuruGraham]

FIXES & UPDATES

The Sims 4

Sims will travel to the correct venue when invited out to an event by a NPC Sim.

Fixed an issue where the UI would occasionally indicate that a Sim was at work, when they were actually at home, which would block access to the Sim’s inventory.

Sims will no longer receive random phone calls from other Sims between the hours of 8pm and 10am, allowing them to enjoy a full – and speedy – night’s sleep.

Fixed an issue where multiple music tracks could end up looping and playing simultaneously.

Expecting parents will once again be able to “Take Family Leave” via their phone to take time off from work.

Fixed an issue where a Sim who had cheated with another Sim romantically, were then unable to successfully propose to that Sim and get married.

Fixed an issue where Sims in the eSport Gamer branch of the Tech Guru career were not earning money when programming video games.

The Pick Up Serving Together interaction will no longer cause one of the Sims involved to fail to route to the food.

Fixed an issue where interactions on the Digitalistic Sketchpad object would disappear if a Sim’s actions were canceled while they were picking up the Digitalistic Sketchpad.

Updated the Digitalistic Sketchpad object so that creating paintings on it will satisfy Aspiration goals and work tasks that involve painting.

Fixed an issue with the Lin-Z Smart Speaker, where the interaction to hire a Gardener would remain unselectable, even when the home had a garden that needed tending.

Sims will now look at the Lin-Z Smart Speaker when speaking to it.

The “Pre-Owned Painter’s Easel”, that’s unlocked via the Painter career, will now provide an Inspirational emotional aura, instead of a Focused emotional aura.

Fixed an issue where staircases were not rendering properly while held by a mouse cursor.

Updated positioning of overlapping Search & Reset buttons in a player’s catalog within the Gallery.

Adjusted icons of Lunar New Year recipes to better display what food you’re looking at within an inventory.

The children’s Yin & Yang Necklace will no longer clip into their neck when wearing a shirt that’s tucked in.

The “CleanRoom” wall pattern, which was previously missing a name for its 5th color variant, has now had that specific color variant named “Like Sand”.

Added the ability to click through different pack art on the main menu for any of the packs you currently have installed.

A new content alert icon has been added to individual careers within the Select a Career panel, to help players find new careers that have been added to their game.

Note: If a save file created prior to this update contains a Sim that’s already in this bad state, simply traveling to another lot with that Sim will permanently fix this issue.

As far as I’m aware, this is the only instance in the game where a color variant has been given a unique name. Huh… neat!

Mac

Fixed an issue for Mac users with Intel integrated graphics, where the mouse cursor would not move properly after adjusting the shape of a Sim’s body in Create a Sim.

Removed an outdated file that was causing a false error message to appear for 64-bit Mac users that said, “The Sims 4” is not optimized for your Mac and needs to be updated.”

Get To Work

Scientists will once again wear an appropriate outfit when going to work even if StrangerVille is not installed.

The “Chemical Analyzer” object can now be purchased from Build Mode without having to use a cheat.

Fixed an issue where selecting the Randomize from Gallery option until receiving an alien Sim, and then further randomizing that specific Sim, could result in a naked alien Sim.

Made updates to the list of valid objects that can be selected as the outcome of the SimRay’s “Transform Object” interaction.

City Living

Fixed an issue where objects from multiple festivals were appearing on top of each other in the neighborhood simultaneously.

Apartment landlords will now leave the apartment immediately after addressing a tenant’s complaint.

Added the ability for Sims with the Vegetarian trait to hire a Vegetarian Caterer by clicking on Stoves or Refrigerators.

Vegetarian Sims will no longer enjoy eating Mud Carp.

Cats & Dogs

After installing this update, Sims who adopt an animal after befriending them will be able to become companions with them and lecture them for misbehavior.

Fixed an issue where hungry pets would not eat from food bowls autonomously.

The pet toy box will no longer have its position rotated in a random direction when a Sim returns home from an active career.

Fixed an issue where the “Litter-Matic Scoop-Free” litterbox wasn’t looking clean after cat poop had been removed.

Fixed an issue with the Pet Adoption Agency, where they would occasionally show up at a Sim’s home without any pets to adopt, and would simply stand at the home’s front door and not do anything.

Note: Sims who have already adopted an animal after befriending them, in a save file created prior to this update, will continue to experience this issue. We’re investigating a separate fix for this issue in existing save files.

We’ve placed the magic gnomes responsible for this in the naughty box alongside SimGuruNinja.

Seasons

Updated the Gardening career so that Sims will earn more than 10 Simoleons per completed work shift.

Fixed an issue where on days where no holiday was set to occur, a Sim’s work schedule would update to falsely indicate that the day was a Holiday just prior to going to work, causing the Sim to stay home for the day.

Fixed an issue where NPC Sims were not autonomously using the skating rinks that appear in certain neighborhoods.

Toddlers will no longer attempt to queue up behavior to “Run Inside” during bad weather conditions if they’re already inside.

Fixed an issue where Sims voices could not be heard when Singing Together around a Holiday Tree if City Living was not installed.

Get Famous

The Acting career task to “Get Into Hair and Makeup” can be successfully completed once again.

Fixed an issue where celebrity Sims who had been set to use their normal walkstyle were switching back to using the celebrity walkstyle after traveling to certain types of venues.

Three star celebrity Sims will no longer use the celebrity walkstyle.

Dine Out

Players who have City Living installed can now add the Siopao and Ensaymada dishes to their restaurant’s menu. Yum!

Vampires

Vampire Sims created after installing this update will be able to continue to gain points after reaching the rank of Grand Master.

Fixed some circumstances where Vampire NPCs could appear at a venue and prevent the player from being able to save the game.

Fixed an issue where NPC Vampires would have their Vampire Energy drained after completing a load, which was causing them to idle in place instead of performing their expected autonomous behavior.

Note: Vampires that already exist will continue to experience a problem with gaining points after reaching Grand Master. We’re investigating a separate fix for Vampires in existing save files.

StrangerVille

Fixed an issue where Sims that had been shared to the Gallery after completing Act 1 of the StrangerVille Mystery would be blocked from progressing in the mystery when downloaded from the Gallery into a new game.

The following environment objects, which were created for StrangerVille, have been added to the Build Mode debug catalog to allow placement on lots. Players must enter the bb.showhiddenobjects cheat before they can be seen in the catalog.

Added proper images to the Officer and Covert Operator branches of the Military career.

Removed the “Question about Spores in Lab” interaction for Sims who have already acquired the Modified Hazmat Suit.

Removed the “Heart of the Pack” styled look from Create a Sim, as it was authored using clothing that’s only available to Sims that have joined the Military career.

Updated the pack information panel on the main menu to not display world objects under the Build Mode Items.

10 different cacti

3 different Joshua trees

3 different RVs

2 clusters of rocks

2 junked cars

A group of desert flowers

A military truck

A tire

A parking stop

My First Pet Stuff

Fixed an issue where deleting/selling the rodent habitat could cause the game to become unresponsive.

Holiday Celebration Pack

The Crown Roast platter will now show a partially eaten state when half of its servings have been taken.

[someonestole15]

Will to survive

One armed bandit.

My flashlights had been broken away from the fall, but I felt the glow return to my eye. Anger, frustration and just the will to survive were at their peak, I will not die here. I organized my vest to hold everything closer to my right hand, allowing for easier access. There were several cuts across the hazmat suit protecting me, but down here the chemicals in the air seemed like they were less toxic than above. I wasn’t sure on why, but I’ll take any advantage I can get right now.

Pistol ready, knife in its sheath, I started making my way down the hallway. The map had seemingly gotten slightly corrupted from the syringe, leading several rooms to appear dark and with a text “unknown” appearing over them. First room opened up on my left, door shut with lights inside off and small red light blinking on what seemed like a phone. I grabbed on to the handle and tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge. I’ll have to see if I can find a way to open this from somewhere else. The laboratory down here was a complete opposite of the one above, no bullet casings, no puddles of blood nor corpses. Several notes scattered across the ground, someone had dropped them in a hurry. I came across a monitor mounted on the wall that was unlocked. A maintenance terminal used for routing power around the floor, it controlled the lights and ventilation along with some security doors. Ventilation would be necessary with my suit broken, but the usual protocol of the security doors allows them to open when they detect a loss of power. I routed the power from the doors to the lights and watched as the system opened all security doors behind me, powering up the lights one by one.

With the lights on, I could focus on looking around the area. I returned to the first door I had been at and stepped into the room. It was surprisingly clean compared to everything outside, not a spot of dust anywhere. I found the reason for this cleanliness when I heard something beep near my boot. A small circular robot was bumping into it several times before stopping. I moved my feet and watched as the bot quickly sped away, cleaning the floor below me. I got back to looking around the room and focused myself on the red light blinking on a nearby table.

It was a phone indeed, seemingly a hands-free model with a hologram display for video calls. I pressed the button that would playback the messages left on the phone and listened in.

“Hello Clara, this is James from the other side of the hallway. You want to grab some coffee later? Let me know.”

“Dr. Peterson, we have been hearing worrying things about you over the past few days. Please report back to us as soon as you can.”

“FACILITY WIDE EVACUATION IN PROGRESS, REPORT TO YOUR SUPERVISORS AND EXIT THE BUILDING.”

That was the last of the messages, I do have to wonder about those worrying things the second message mentioned, and who it was that sent that. I looked around the room to see if I could locate some more medical supplies, but unfortunately my luck has been running low over the past few hours. The medical cabinet inside the room had been emptied, everything inside was gone. Rest of the rooms seemed trashed, all of their med kits had been spent as well, so no luck there either. I started making my way down the hallway, picking up the same distress signal I had received from the large monitor in the top laboratory.

It did take me some time to navigate through the hallways, with my legs still not fully fixed up, I was losing my balance occasionally, but managed to keep going. I finally reached the door where the signal was originating from. Another of those cleanrooms, with glass doors on both sides and a man sitting inside the booth, reading a book. I knocked on the glass with my functional arm and kept eye on the man behind the glass. No reaction. Knocking on the door again with more strength might break it, another way of getting his attention would be needed.

My luck seems to be coming back. Another man walked up behind the one reading his book and tapped on his shoulder before pointing towards me. Now I am not in my best look, but I am still fixable. The door swung open and I stepped inside. A cloud of steam filled the room, fogging up my mask.

“You can remove that suit if you can. Sensors say you are clean.”

With one hand I couldn’t really take off the suit, but removed the mask from my face. Feels good to finally breathe without a mask over my filters. The flow of steam stopped and the door to the interior opened up.

Time to meet these scientists and find out who is responsible for this.

[wazafam]

The quirky relationship between the geeky Raj Koothrapalli and Howard Wolowitz was the second most important friendship in the hit sitcom The Big Bang Theory (after Sheldon and Leonard). Although the characters start out as profoundly immature, with time, Howard gradually becomes a caring and loving father, while Raj becomes more confident and considerate.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: 10 Fan-Ship Relationships We Wish We Real

They may have had an almost unhealthy, codependent relationship, but most fans would say their friendship stands the course of time, especially once Bernadette enters the picture and they become an integral part of each other's family. Like all friends, Howard and Raj bicker all the time. But, at the end of the day, they would always be there for each other, supporting their dreams and celebrating their successes.

12 Season 1: Their Introduction

The first season introduces Howard and Raj as one of Leonard and Sheldon's closest friends, who spend most of the time watching movies or playing video games with. It is during this season that fans discover how Raj and Howard are a couple of socially awkward young men, who are both talented and respected scientists (or in Howard's case, a respected engineer).

While Howard appears to take the lead most of the time, it is Raj who is more liked by fans due to Howard's off-putting personality and inappropriate behavior that makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable.

11 Season 2: Exploring Their Characters

Raj finds out that his selective mutism improves when he downs a drink or two. Unfortunately, it also makes him say inappropriate things to everyone and several women.

Howard is already disgustingly creepy when it comes to women so the two form quite the duo, especially since they also appear deeply co-dependent.

10 Season 3: Attachment & Abandonment

The writers start scratching beyond the surface of Howard and Raj’s relationship. Their genuine attachment for each other comes through when Howard shows his concern at the possibility that Raj might lose his work permit.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: 10 Most Overdone Storylines

However, the viewers do see a few cracks appear in their friendship when Raj starts getting annoyed at Howard continuously abandoning him or their plans at the last minute so he can pursue other women. While the pair do make up, there is still some lingering tension between them.

9 Season 4: Careers, Relationships & Fantasies

Both Howard and Raj focus on their careers a bit more, but they also start dabbling with more serious relationships. Howard gets into an on-again-off-again relationship with Bernadette from the Cheesecake Factory, which puts a slight strain on Raj and Howard's friendship.

Raj, unfortunately, doesn’t have anyone he could turn to and develops feelings for Bernadette about whom he starts daydreaming. His love for Howard doesn’t stop him from hoping he might get a chance with Bernadette if Howard wasn’t around. However, when the time comes, it is Raj's brilliant brainwave that allows the couple to get married on a rooftop so that their wedding could be captured by a satellite from space.

8 Season 5: Friendship & Feuds

The friendship goes through ups and downs as Howard finds out that Bernie doesn't want kids and also that Raj had been fantasizing about her. Tension also increases when Raj messes up at Howard's bachelor party and his viral video causes Bernie to find out some rather questionable stuff about Howard's past.

Yet, for all their little feuds, the two would still spend an inordinate amount of time together, whether it be them trying to figure out where Sheldon would mysteriously disappear to at work every day or helping with the International Space Station expedition.

7 Season 6: Getting On With Life

Howard has a vital breakthrough in life as he gets married and then goes off to the International Space Station. He finds it hard to keep both his wife and mother happy at the same time, especially when Bernie wants him to move out of his mother's place.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: The 5 Most Annoying Things Raj Ever Did (& The 5 Sweetest)

Raj, in the meantime, has found a sort of replacement for Howard as he hangs out with the goofy Stuart Bloom while Howard is away. He also feels exasperated when Howard can't stop bragging about his journey to the ISS.

6 Season 7: Blundering On

Howard's mom falls sick and has to be taken care of 24/7. But that doesn't stop his friendship with Raj from going from strength to strength. Over the course of the season, the viewers see the bond between the two grow stronger as Howard confides in Raj in some of his insecurities and health concerns (like the time he starts feeling the side effects of his mother's ointment).

Raj also starts dating the dermatologist called Emily, who ends up being one of his more long-term relationships. He seeks Howard's help to prepare for a gory horror movie that he is due to be watching with Emily, and the two discuss his relationship with Emily.

5 Season 8: Working Together, Or Not

Raj and Howard, along with Leonard, work together on the cleanroom project with disastrous consequences. Howard tries to be there for Raj, even accompanying him to a Hindu temple as he spends his day restlessly worrying about a space probe he had helped design that would send information about Pluto.

Unfortunately, this is also the time when Howard and Sheldon do their best to take over and dominate Raj in a project he is working on, without having much respect for his wishes. As a result, viewers see some distance form between the two.

4 Season 9: Bonding Over The Band

In season 9, the viewers see Raj and Howard form a band, which they name 'Footprints On The Moon.' Their muse was inspired by the sci-fi genre and they would only play in bar mitzvahs (although they were originally formed to play in the comic book store).

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: The Characters' 10 Most Impractical Outfit Choices, Ranked

The duo also spends time panicking over the possibility that the American government is spying on them for an innovative new project they had worked on together. It's nice to see how their friendship has still continued on years later (at this point).

3 Season 10: Being There

Raj proves he is a gem of a friend when he spends a lot of time being there for Howard and Bernadette as the two struggle with their pregnancy, and then as new parents to baby Halley.

However, Howard and Bernie show their appreciation by naming Raj the godfather to their child. Raj is now very close to Bernadette too, who is happy to have him around as he offers her a lot of helpful advice.

2 Season 11: Ups & Downs

This season sees one of the biggest developments in the Raj-Howard storyline as Raj finally realizes that Howard's constant ridiculing of him has eroded his confidence over the years. He now tries to start afresh, getting a rather glamorous new job at the planetarium. Howard does appear a tad taken aback at first but then goes back to being 'Howard.' The two then make up during Halley's first birthday party where they each let out their hurt sentiments that have been building up over the years.

Overall, Raj is now much more than just a friend to Howard and Bernadette as he once again looks out for the couple, who are pregnant with their second child. However, even after all his support, Howard doesn't seem to care much as he does his best not to have Raj live with him and Bernie when he needs a place to live in. For all his immaturity, Raj comes through as the better friend here.

1 Season 12: The Culmination

In the series finale, the viewers see a culmination of their relationship. Raj thinks he has finally found his significant other but Howard finds the idea of the romantic Raj settling down with someone he has nothing in common with to be far from ideal.

RELATED: The Big Bang Theory: The 5 Most Annoying Things Howard Ever Did (& The 5 Sweetest)

Raj decides he has little left for him in the States as Howard and Bernadette have a full family, often leaving him lonely. He is at the airport, ready to head to London to propose to Anu when Howie rushes to stop him from going. Both friends are overwhelmed and Raj stays back to be with his friend and his family. The culmination ties together both the themes of friendship and Raj continuing to look for his life partner.

NEXT: The Big Bang Theory: What Are The Main Characters' Jobs?

The Big Bang Theory: Raj & Howard's Friendship Timeline, Season By Season from https://ift.tt/3eQ1IAz

[shesthelastjedi]

War

Prompt 12: Eric Coulter

“You want a fight. I’ll bring a war.” 

Notes:

Y/N- your name

H/C- Hair color

E/C- eye color

Tagging: @imnotafraid4 @wynterrobin @buried-in-books

Honestly all of you guys who reblog and like my posts make my day! I think I’ve fallen in love with creating Eric in a different mindset than just being a straight-up asshole. I feel like he would be the kind of person to be a hardass to everyone and sometimes to the reader, but in private he would be the type to drop the asshole persona. 

She was tired and moody, this morning mother nature had decided to pay her a visit and a damn initiate decided to challenge her once again. It seemed that the initiates this year were brave and cocky. For some unforeseen reason, they thought she was an easier target. Yet, time and time again she had proved them wrong, but they still came back for more. She leaned against the wall tiredly, when she saw that the hallway was empty. She stood up straighter when she heard heavy footsteps, coming from behind her.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing. We have a meeting in five and you have me walking around the whole fucking compound looking for you,” She heard Eric’s snide voice from behind her. “Hurry your ass up!”

She rolled her eyes, stifling a yawn wishing that she had decided to deny the leadership role like Four had done. “I didn’t ask you to.” She fell into step beside him, accidentally brushing his shoulder. She felt the urge to yawn again, but she didn’t want to hear Eric’s nagging voice.

“Y/N!” She stopped turning to look at the black-haired male. “Where are you off- Eric..” She turned back to Eric only to see a pissed off look on his face. Being the asshole that he was Eric stood behind her, glaring down at her black haired friend. “I was just wondering if you can reschedule your tattoo appointment for tomorrow evening.”

“Shit, I totally forgot about my appointment. But yeah, tomorrow at seven?” She asked while he nodded. “Okay it’s a date, I really have to go.” She rushed out feeling Eric’s angry gaze on the back of her head. She didn’t notice her friend’s surprised face, because she turned back to Eric grasping his meaty arm pulling him towards the meeting room.

Y/N yawned again while Eric gazed at her. She was one of the few people that he tolerated, and he didn’t want to admit to himself that it bothered him when she said it’s a date. Sure, she was attractive, even more so since she always stood up and never took his shit seriously. But he had never realized how much he was attracted to her.

“How is the training with the initiates going,” Eric brought his attention back to Max while he eyed both her and himself.

“They are courageous, yet cocky. They seem to think that they are better than Four, even as we knock them down time and time again. It’s taking some time to break them, but it’s not impossible and we are only a week behind schedule,” She spoke clenching her fists tightly.

“I have no doubt that you and Four will break them. How are the strategist coming into play,” Max wrote something in his tablet.

Eric watched her E/C eyes light up, while he listened to her absentmindedly. He watched the way her hands moved excitedly as she described her strategies. He wanted to reach forward and brush away the few strands of her H/C hair that fell from her loose bun.

“Eric?” He blinked a few times, before turning to look at Max. “What’s your input?”

He knew he fucked up, he hadn’t heard a word she said, because he was too busy paying attention to her and not what she was saying. “She’s good with strategy. I don’t anything wrong with it.”

Her eyes shot over to him in surprise, before nodding stiffly in thanks. “Alright. Everyone’s dismissed.”

Eric waited for everyone to clear out before he pulled her aside. “Tell me about your strategy again. I wasn’t paying attention.”

She pulled her arm away from him. “So basically you were just spouting bullshit about me being good with strategy. Figures. You know what Eric, I’m not really into explaining it again so you can ask me again tomorrow. Goodnight.” She turned away from him, before flipping him off over her shoulder. He watched her go, noticing the sway of her hip. Eric clenched his fists when he felt the urge to run his hands over her ass.

“I swear Four if they keep testing me I’m going to put them in the infirmary,” Eric listened in on Y/N and Four’s conversation. “Cara asked me to chill out this year with the initiates, you know how she is.”

“Actually I don’t because I’m not the one that used to put initiates in the infirmary,” Four gave her a small grin, before turning his attention back to the initiates. “Maybe that’s what this bunch needs, even when you keep kicking their asses they don’t seem like they’ll respect you, regardless if you're a leader.”

Eric moved closer to the pair, brushing against Y/N. He smirked when he saw her shiver slightly. “What do you think?” She looked up at him, it was one of the things he learned to like about her. She always asked him, no matter if she was pissed off at him or he was pissed off at her.

“It would be interesting. Pick the one who always gives you shit,” He shrugged. “Initiates get your asses around the mat.” He gestured for her to take control.

She grinned up at him, before looking at each of the initiates. She stopped at a blond-haired kid, who was smirking at her. “Blake... Since you won the last three against your competitors you will choose who you want to fight next.” Blake grinned at her before his eyes skimmed lazily over her form.

“You. I wanna fight you.” Eric’s eyes widened slightly at the balls on this kid. Y/N at first glance looked weak, but Eric and Four learned the hard way that she was anything but weak. She had the ability to see every weakness and use it against her opponent. What she lacked in strength she made up for it with her agility and stamina.

She smiled sweetly at the kid, “Alright.” Eric coughed out a laugh. The kid had fallen right into her plan. She took off her boots, going to stand in the middle observing her opponent. “Coulter! Mind telling the rules.”

“The first one to get knocked out loses or we can go with first blood,” Eric leaned against the mat, eyeing her. “Up to you..”

“I love first blood, but I think I’ll go with the first option. Four you’re on standby” She smiled down at him before her body relaxed. “At your call Coulter.”

He felt a surge of pride flow through him, “Fight!”

Eric watched as she lazily eyed the kid. Blake rushed at her, at which she turned slamming her foot into his face. Eric grinned seeing the blood gushing out of his nose. “C’mon, you wanted a fight. You got me all excited.” She taunted him, only to grin when she saw him charging at her. She ducked under him, propelling herself up onto his back jabbing her hand into his neck. “You give?”

“No,” Blake choked out, trying to get her off of his back. She rolled her eyes, using her body weight bringing them down before she tossed him across the mat. “I want a fight!”

Blake got up wiping the blood from his face. Y/N smirked, “You want a fight. I’ll bring a war.” She charged at him, kicking his legs out from underneath him before she grasped both of his arms. “You challenge me and my authority daily. I’ve been trying to mellow out but you fuckers keep pushing me towards the edge.” Blake whimpered below her when she pulled his arms tighter. “So, the next one to disobey me and challenge me again will end up with two dislocated shoulders.” Y/N grasped Blake's right arm dislocating his shoulder. She cut off Blake's scream with a single punch to his face. Eric grinned at her when she turned glaring down at the rest of the initiates, “Do you weaklings understand that?”    

Eric watched in amusement when they all nodded dumbly at her. “Great, you’re all dismissed.” They moved around her, eyeing her wearily. “Eric mind handing me my boots?” He grasped her boots scooting while she scooted towards the edge. She grinned at Four while he rested his hand on her shoulder. “You taking him to the infirmary?” The stiff nodded, hauling the kid up.

“You did good Y/N,” Eric set his hand on her thigh. “It’s hot watching you kick people’s asses.” He ran his hand down to her leg. “Do you want to get a drink with me?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, “What are you playing at?”

Eric sighed leaning against the mat, he wasn’t good at this. Usually, he would ask and the girls would agree without hesitation. “You’ve been on my mind and I decided to act on it. So is it a yes or no?”

She shrugged pulling on her boots. “Sure, but I have my tattoo appointment in fifteen unless you want to come with me then we can get a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Derek,” Eric watched her smile at the dark-haired male. The guy eyed Eric back, before smiling down at Y/N. “I’ll talk to you later.” She glanced up at Eric, before turning to leave the small shop. “So, uhm-”

Eric put his arm around her shoulder leading her towards his compartment. “I figured we could have some privacy.” He opened the door for her while she stepped inside. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Mess right,” She joked looking around the cleanroom. “If this your idea of a mess, I’d hate to see when you would call something filthy.” She glanced at the few shirts that were tossed into the chair. She looked back at him, frowning slightly when she noticed how uptight he was. He moved away from the door, heading towards his small fridge, pulling out a few beers. He opened her’s before handing it to her.

Eric leaned against the counter, “I’m not used to the whole talking ordeal.” He downed the beer trying to ease the nerves that he felt.

She shrugged understanding. “You have any cards,” she asked moving to sit on the counter next to him. He nodded grabbing the pack, tossing them at her. “Alright, let’s make this interesting. I win, I get whatever I want from you and if you win then you can choose whatever you want from me. Deal?”

He grinned back, pulling up a stool. Regardless of whatever game they played, he knew that she would most likely win, no matter if he used to be from Erudite. She was extremely good at strategies.

“I win,” Eric grinned at her setting his cards down. “So I get anything I want from you?”

She shuffled the cards again, “Those were the terms. Anything you want.”

He grasped the cards from her, moving to stand in between her legs. Eric put his hand on her cheek, pulling her closer so their lips almost met. “I want a massage.”

Y/N laughed, bumping her head against his. “Deal.”

He moved back while she jumped down from the counter gesturing for him to lead the way. He led her into his neat bedroom, before pulling off his shirt. “Focus on my shoulders,” Eric mumbled before laying down. He heard her laugh again before he felt the bed dip and weight settle on his lower back.

She dug her fingers into his muscles and he had to bite his sheets to keep himself from groaning out in pleasure. Her hands were surprisingly soft with small callouses here and there, but he loved how cool they were against his skin. He turned holding her so that she was still straddling him. She tensed slightly before raising an eyebrow at him.

Y/N raised herself up slightly, reaching towards his shoulders again. He closed his eyes when her fingers massaged his tense muscles. A shiver ran through his body when she ran her hands over his pecs. He found his hands gripping her waist tightly before he flipped them so she was lying beneath him. “This is not a massage Eric,” She grinned up at him, while he grinned back.  

Eric leaned down, capturing her plump lips into a searing kiss. She whimpered slightly as he bit her lip, causing her to arch into him, while he ran his hands up her legs. He pulled back smirking down at her, “Stay with me tonight.”

Y/N bit her lip, he leaned down to kiss her again. She hoped that she wouldn’t have a nightmare tonight before she was distracted by Eric’s skillful lips.

Y/N woke up, trying to remember where the hell she was. She moved to sit up, but a beefy pale arm held her down. She froze slightly when she trailed her eyes up, seeing Eric’s face sleeping soundly beside her. She moved soundlessly trying her hardest not to wake him up, once she was out of his bed, she grabbed all of her clothes throwing them all on before dashing out of his compartment.

Y/N was late. She sprinted to her compartment showering quickly before throwing on her workout clothes. She wrapped her hair into a bun, before sprinting to the training rooms only to see Four already stretching, maybe she wasn’t that late. She jogged over to Four, sitting beside him beginning her own stretches.

“You’re late.” Four grimaced while he held a hand down to her. He stared at her neck, rolling his eyes grinning slightly. “Now I know why.”

Her fingers probed her neck slightly, remembering Eric had left a mark from last night. Deep down she was embarrassed, but she shrugged grinning cockily at Four. “So we can skip the morning run?”

“Nope, let’s go,” Four pushed her slightly before she huffed dropping the cocky grin.

She started jogging falling into step beside Four, with her legs protesting at the extra exercise. “Four I’m going to kill you,” She huffed pushing past her jelly filled legs. She stopped leaning against the column, “Give me a second.”

Four smirked while she flipped him off. “C’mon, we can skip today. It seems you’ve already gotten way more exercise than usual.”

Y/N was sharpening the knives when the door banged open and a pissed off Eric stormed it. She went back to sharpening the knives before the angry man leaned on the table beside her, she could feel the anger vibrating off of him in waves.

“Spit it out, get it over with,” She murmured not satisfied with the sharpness of the tool. He grabbed the knife from her hands flinging it at the wood, glaring down at her. “Impressive shot, but a little to the left and-”

“You left. Why,” Eric growled out through clenched teeth, staring (more like glaring) down at her.

“I had to get my morning workout in. Then I had to prepare for the initiates. I didn’t have the luxury to sleep in,” Y/N shrugged, grabbing another knife to sharpen.

“You’re a leader… you can choose. You’re a coward Y/N, you left because you were scared.” Eric hissed moving away from her, clenching his fists.

She rolled her eyes. “Totally, I’m a coward for doing my job. I’m not scared if I was then I wouldn’t have gone to your compartment.” She grasped his arm, pulling him towards her. “If I was a coward, I would’ve covered up your marks you dumbass.”

Eric grasped her chin, looking at her neck. He brushed his fingers against the marks, grinning slightly. He grabbed the knife she held throwing it back to the wood. “You’re right, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Asshole. So, what are we? Fuck friends,” Y/N smirked pulling her face away from his hands.

“If that’s what you want,” Eric rested his hands on her hips, before he trailed his fingers down her legs, wrapping her legs around him so she was pressed against him.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Y/N shrugged wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “So is where we also see other peo-”

He growled slightly, squeezing her thighs and burying his face into her neck. “I don’t share.”

“Neither do I,” She laughed when he brushed his lips against her sweet spot.

*Four months later*

“Stay,” Eric wrapped his arms around her, he had been asking her for months now yet she always refused. “Y/N c’mon let’s just sleep.”

“Eric, c’mon let go.” She weakly fought against him.

“Why don’t you want to stay? Fuck Y/N,” Eric let her go, sitting up watching her pull her clothes on. She sighed sitting back on the bed, while he moved closer kissing her shoulder.  “What are you so nervous about? Are you embarrassed?” He moved back, while everything started to fall into place.

“Why the hell would I be embarrassed? Who gives a fuck what other people think?” She hissed laying back down on the bed.

“Then what the fuck is up with you.” Eric scowled at the ceiling.

She put her arm over her eyes, biting her lip. “I have nightmares Eric. I didn’t want you to see my weakness. That’s why I’ve been avoiding staying over.”

Eric moved so that he was laying on his side looking at her. He grasped her waist pulling her into him. He held her tightly, breathing in her scent. The possessive side of him, grinned at the fact that she smelled of him. “You don’t have to be ashamed of things that aren’t in your control.” She sighed softly, burrowing closer to him.

One thing he loved more than anything was moments like these, where it was just him and her. In his room he was able to be somewhat vulnerable around her, but they still kept their professionalism. Eric wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but she was one of his fears. He often feared that she would find someone better, nicer and more open than he was. To others it may have been a pansy weakness but to him it was something he never wanted to come true. She had managed to worm her way into his heart and he wasn’t going to lose her. Eric kissed her hair, holding her tightly.  

“What are we Eric,” He heard her mumble out while she intertwined her legs with his. “This feels like so much more than fuck friends.”

“I’m all yours if you’re all mine,” Eric smirked running his fingers along her exposed flesh. She looked up at him, grinning slightly before moving so that she was straddling him.

[lesbianrewrites]

The Martian Chapter 13

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of The Martian by Andy Weir.

Chapters will be posted every day at 2pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

CHAPTER XIII

The employees of Deyo Plastics worked double shifts. There was talk of triple shifts if NASA increased the order again. No one minded. The overtime pay was spectacular and the funding was limitless. Woven carbon thread ran slowly through the press, which sandwiched it between polymer sheets. The completed material was folded four times and glued together. The resulting thick sheet was then coated with soft resin, and taken to the hot-room to set.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 114 Now that NASA can talk to me, they won’t shut the hell up. They want constant updates on every Hab system, and they’ve got a room full of people trying to micromanage my crops. It’s awesome to have a bunch of dipshits on Earth telling me, a botanist, how to grow plants. I mostly ignore them. I don’t want to come off as arrogant here, but I’m the best botanist on the planet. One big bonus: Email! Just like the days back on Hermes, I get data dumps. Of course they relay email from friends and family, but NASA also sends along choice messages from the public. I’ve gotten email from rock stars, athletes, actors and actresses, and even the President. The coolest one is from my alma-mater, the University of Chicago. They say once you grow crops somewhere, you have officially “colonized” it. So technically, I colonized Mars. In your face, Neil Armstrong! I go to the rover five times a day to check mail. They can get a message from Earth to Mars, but they can’t get it another 10 meters to the Hab. But hey, I can’t bitch. My odds of living through this are way higher now. Last I heard, they solved the weight problem on Ares 4’s MDV. Once it lands here, they’ll ditch the heat shield, all the life support stuff, and a bunch of empty fuel tanks. Then they can take the seven of us (Ares 4’s crew plus me) all the way to Schiaparelli. They’re already working on my duties for the surface ops. How cool is that? In other news, I’m learning Morse Code. Why? Because it’s our back-up communication system. NASA figured a decades-old probe isn’t ideal as a sole means of communication. If Pathfinder craps out, I’ll spell messages with rocks, which NASA will see with satellites. They can’t reply, but at least we’d have one-way communication. Why Morse Code? Because making dots and dashes with rocks is a lot easier than making letters. It’s a shitty way to communicate. Hopefully it won’t come up.

All chemical reactions complete, the sheet was sterilized and moved to a cleanroom. There, a worker cut a strip off the edge. Dividing the strip in to squares, he put each through a series of rigorous tests. Having passed inspection, the sheet was then cut to shape. The edges were folded over, sewn, and resealed with resin. A man with a clipboard made final inspections, independently verifying the measurements, then approved it for use.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 115 The meddling botanists have grudgingly admitted I did a good job. They agree I’ll have enough food to last till Sol 900. Bearing that in mind, NASA has fleshed out the mission details of the supply probe. At first, they were working on a desperate plan to get a probe here before Sol 400. But I bought another 500 sols of life with my potato farm so they have more time to work on it. They’ll launch next year during the Hohmann Transfer Window, and it’ll take almost 9 months to get here. It should arrive around Sol 856. It’ll have plenty of food, a spare Oxygenator, Water Reclaimer, and comm system. Three comm systems, actually. I guess they aren’t taking any chances, what with my habit of being nearby when radios break. Got my first email from Hermes today. NASA’s been limiting direct contact. I guess they’re afraid I’ll say something like “You abandoned me on Mars you fuckwits!” I know the crew is surprised to hear from the Ghost of Mars Missions Past, but c’mon. I wish NASA was less of a nanny sometimes. Anyway, they finally let one email through from Martinez: Dear Watney: Sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you. You're sort of a smart-ass. And it's a lot roomier on Hermes without you. We have to take turns doing your tasks, but it's only botany (not real science) so it's easy. How's Mars? -Martinez My reply: Dear Martinez: Mars is fine. When I get lonely I think of that steamy night I spent with your mom. How are things on Hermes? Cramped and claustrophobic? Yesterday I went outside and looked at the vast horizons. I tell ya, Martinez, they go on forever! -Watney

The employees carefully folded the sheet, and placed it in an argon-filled airtight shipping container. Printing out a sticker, the man with the clipboard placed it on the package. “Project Ares-3; Hab Canvas; Sheet AL102.” The package was placed on a charter plane and flown to Edwards Air Force Base in California. It flew abnormally high, at great cost of fuel, to ensure a smoother flight. Upon arrival, the package was carefully transported by special convoy to Pasadena. Once there, it was moved to the JPL White Room for probe assembly. Over the next 5 weeks, engineers in white bodysuits assembled Presupply 309. It contained AL102 as well as 12 other Hab Canvas packages.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 116 It’s almost time for the second harvest. Ayup. I wish I had a straw hat and some suspenders. My re-seed of the potatoes went well. I'm beginning to see that crops on Mars are extremely prolific, thanks to the billions of dollars worth of life support equipment around me. I now have 400 healthy potato plants, each one making lots of calorie-filled taters for my dining enjoyment. In just ten days they’ll be ripe! And this time, I’m not replanting them as seed. This is my food supply. All natural, organic, Martian-grown potatoes. Don’t hear that every day, do you? You may be wondering how I’ll store them. I can’t just pile them up; most of them would go bad before I got around to eating them. So instead, I’ll do something that wouldn’t work at all on Earth: Throw them outside. Most of the water will be sucked out by the near-vacuum; what’s left will freeze solid. Any bacteria planning to rot my taters will die screaming. In other news, I got email from Venkat Kapoor: Maia, some answers to your earlier questions: No, we will not tell our Botany Team to “Go fuck themselves.” I understand you’ve been on your own for a long time, but we’re in the loop now, and it’s best if you listen to what we have to say. The Cubs finished the season at the bottom of the NL Central. The data transfer rate just isn’t good enough for the size of music files, even in compressed formats. So your request for “Anything, oh god ANYTHING but Disco” is denied. Enjoy your boogie fever. Also, an uncomfortable side note... NASA is putting together a committee. They want to see if there were any avoidable mistakes that led you to being stranded. Just a heads-up. They may have questions for you later on. Keep us posted on your activities. -Kapoor My reply: Venkat, tell the investigation committee they’ll have to do their witch-hunt without me. And when they inevitably blame Commander Lewis, be advised I’ll publicly refute it. -Watney

The presupply probes for Ares-3 launched on 14 consecutive days during the Hohmann Transfer window. Presupply 309 was launched third. The 251 day trip to Mars was uneventful, needing only two minor course adjustments. After several aerobraking maneuvers to slow down, it made its final descent toward Acidalia Planitia. First, it endured reentry via a heat shield. Later, it released a parachute and detached the now expended shield. Once its onboard radar detected it was 30 meters from the ground, it cut loose the parachute and inflated balloons all around its hull. It fell unceremoniously to the surface, bouncing and rolling, until it finally came to rest. Deflating its balloons, the onboard computer reported the successful landing back to Earth.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 117 The Water Reclaimer is acting up. Six people will go through 18 liters of water per day. So it’s made to process 20. But lately, it hasn’t been keeping up. It’s doing 10, tops. Do I generate 10 liters of water per day? No, I’m not the urinating champion of all time. It’s the crops. The humidity inside the Hab is a lot higher than it was designed for, so the Water Reclaimer is constantly filtering it out of the air. I’m not worried about it. Water is water. The plants use it, I use it. If need be, I can piss on the plants directly. It’ll evaporate and condense on the walls. I could make something to collect it, I’m sure. Thing is, the water can’t go anywhere. It’s a closed system. Plus, I made like 600 liters from MDV fuel (remember the “explosive Hab” incident?). I could take baths and still have plenty left over. NASA, however, is absolutely shitting itself. They see the Water Reclaimer as a critical survival element. There’s no backup, and they think I’ll die instantly without it. To them, equipment failure is terrifying. To me, it’s “Tuesday.” So instead of preparing for my harvest, I have to make extra trips to and from the rover to answer their questions. Each new message instructs me to try some new solution and report the results back. So far we’ve worked out it’s not the electronics, refrigeration system, instrumentation, or temperature. I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a little hole somewhere, then NASA will have 4 hours of meetings before telling me to cover it with duct tape.

Lewis and Beck opened Presupply 309. Working as best they could in their bulky EVA suits, they removed the various portions of Hab canvas and lay them on the ground. Three entire presupply probes were dedicated to the Hab. Following a procedure they had practiced hundreds of times, they efficiently assembled the pieces. Special seal-strips between the patches ensured air-tight mating. After erecting the main structure of the Hab, they assembled the three airlocks. Sheet AL102 had a hole perfectly sized for Airlock 1. Beck  stretched the sheet tight to the seal-strips on the airlock’s exterior. Once all airlocks were in place, Lewis flooded the Hab with air and AL102 felt pressure for the first time. They waited an hour. No pressure was lost; the setup had been perfect.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 118 My conversation with NASA about the Water Reclaimer was boring and riddled with technical details. So I’ll paraphrase it for you: Me: “This is obviously a clog. How about I take the it apart and check the internal tubing?” NASA: (After 5 hours of deliberation) “No. You’ll fuck it up and die.” So I took it apart. Yeah, I know. NASA has a lot of ultra-smart people and I should really do what they say. And I’m being too adversarial, considering they spend all day working on how to save my life. I just get sick of being told how to wipe my ass. Independence was one of the things they looked for when choosing Ares astronauts. It’s a 13-month mission, most of it spent many light-minutes away from Earth. They wanted people who would act on their own initiative, but at the same time, obey their Commander. If Commander Lewis were here, I’d do whatever she said, no problem. But a committee of faceless bureaucrats back on Earth? Sorry, I’m just having a tough time with it. I was really careful. I labeled every piece as I dismantled it, and laid everything out on a table. I have the schematics in the computer, so nothing was a surprise. And just as I’d suspected, there was a clogged tube. The Water Reclaimer was designed to purify urine and strain humidity out of the air (you exhale almost as much water as you piss). I’ve mixed my water with soil, making it mineral water. The minerals built up in the Water Reclaimer. I cleaned out the tubing and put it all back together. It completely solved the problem. I’ll have to do it again some day, but not for 100 sols or so. No big deal. I told NASA what I did. Our (paraphrased) conversation was: Me: “I took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.” NASA: “Dick.”

AL102 shuddered in the brutal storm. Withstanding forces and pressure far greater than its design, it rippled violently against the airlock seal-strip. Other sections of canvas undulated along their seal-strips together, acting as a single sheet, but AL102 had no such luxury. The airlock barely moved, leaving AL102 to take the full force of the tempest. The layers of plastic, constantly bending, heated the resin from pure friction. The new, more yielding environment allowed the carbon fibers to separate. AL102 stretched. Not much. Only 4 millimeters. But the carbon fibers, usually 500 microns apart, now had a gap eight times that width in their midst. After the storm abated, the lone remaining astronaut performed a full inspection of the Hab. But she didn’t notice anything amiss. The weak part of canvas was concealed by a seal-strip. Designed for a mission of 31 sols, AL102 continued well past its planned expiration. Sol after sol went by, with the lone astronaut traveling in and out of the Hab almost daily. Airlock 1 was closest to the rover charging station, so the astronaut preferred it to the other two. When pressurized, the airlock expanded slightly; when depressurized, it shrunk. Every time the astronaut used the airlock, the strain on AL102 relaxed, then tightened anew. Pulling, stressing, weakening, stretching…

LOG ENTRY: SOL 119 I woke up last night to the Hab shaking. The medium-grade sandstorm ended as suddenly as it began. It was only a category 3 storm with 50kph winds. Nothing to worry about. Still, it’s bit disconcerting to hear howling winds when you’re used to utter silence. I’m worried about Pathfinder. If the sandstorm damaged it, I’ll have lost my connection to NASA. Logically, I shouldn’t worry. The thing’s been on the surface for decades. A little gale won’t do any harm. When I head outside, I’ll confirm Pathfinder’s still functional before moving on to the sweaty, annoying work of the day. Yes, with each sandstorm comes the inevitable Cleaning of the Solar Cells. A time honored tradition by hearty Martians such as myself. It reminds me of growing up in Chicago and having to shovel snow. I’ll give my dad credit; he never claimed it was to build character or teach me the value of hard work. “Snow-blowers are expensive,” he used to say. “You’re free.” Once, I tried to appeal to my mom. “Don’t be such a wuss,” She suggested. In other news, It’s seven sols till the harvest, and I still haven’t prepared. For starters, I need to make a hoe. Also, I need to make an outdoor shed for the potatoes. I can’t just pile them up outside. The next major storm would cause The Great Martian Potato Migration. Anyway, all that will have to wait. I’ve got a full day today. After cleaning the solar cells, I have to check the whole solar array make sure the storm didn’t hurt it. Then I’ll need to do the same for the rover. I better get started.

Airlock 1 slowly depressurized to 1/90th of an atmosphere. Watney, donning an EVA suit, waited for it to complete. She had done it literally hundreds of times. Any apprehension she may have had on Sol 1 was long gone. Now it was merely a boring chore before exiting to the surface. As the depressurization continued, the Hab’s atmosphere compressed the airlock and AL102 stretched for the last time. On Sol 119, the Hab breached. The initial tear was less than 1 millimeter. The perpendicular carbon fibers should have prevented the rip from growing. But countless abuses had stretched the vertical fibers apart and weakened the horizontal ones beyond use. The full force of the Hab’s atmosphere rushed through the breach. Within a tenth of a second, the rip was a meter long, running parallel to the seal-strip. It propagated all the way around until it met its starting point. The airlock was no longer attached to the Hab. The unopposed pressure violently launched the airlock like a cannonball as the Hab exploded. Inside, the surprised Watney slammed against the airlock’s back door with the force of the expulsion. The airlock flew 40 meters before hitting the ground. Watney, barely recovered from the earlier shock, now endured another as she hit the front door, face first. Her faceplate took the brunt of the blow, the safety glass shattering into hundreds of small cubes. Her head slammed against the inside of the helmet, knocking her senseless. The airlock tumbled across the surface for a further 15 meters. The heavy padding of Watney’s suit saved her from many broken bones. She tried to make sense of the situation, but was barely conscious. Finally done tumbling, the airlock rested on its side amid a cloud of dust. Watney, on her back, stared blankly upward through the hole in her shattered faceplate. A gash in her forehead trickled blood down her face. Regaining some of her wits, she got her bearings. Turning her head to the side, she looked through the back door’s window. The collapsed Hab rippled in the distance, a junkyard of debris strewn across the landscape in front of it. Then, a hissing sound reached her ears. Listening carefully, she realized it was not coming from her suit. Somewhere in the phone-booth sized airlock, a small breach was letting air escape. She listened intently to the hiss. Then she touched her broken faceplate. Then she looked out the window again. “You fucking kidding me?” She said.

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Here are the best cheap hotels in Positano!

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1. Hotel Savoia

The room is spotless (wear white gloves if you want) The butler works hard all day. The complimentary breakfast was fresh from the fruit, cold cuts & assorted bread. Don't forget the espresso! The waiters work hard to please.

Now they have an in-house restaurant that is a must-have and I will set it up against anyone else in the area. I ate there for 3 nights. The food is great and the kitchen is wide open for you to watch.

Again the wait staff was there for your beckoning needs. That said let's get down to the BAR!! It will be a sin if you leave the hotel to venture out without hitting the bar for a drink of your choice.

Bar manager Mauro & his Staff Roberto & Ivan who also make you feel like family & (they are also waiters at the restaurant) are on their game day & night to ensure you a memorable stay. I will no doubt be heading back there again this year.

2. Villa Tre Ville

It took me a while to write this review because the words I thought of in my mind just didn't do it fairly. Firstly, we have been in many outstanding 5 star hotels around the world, so there is a fair understanding of quality.

Villa Tre Ville is certainly not cheap, but as stated, you get what you pay for. Sometimes this does not happen, but in the case of Villa Tre Ville, it is certainly true. Every inch of this property is beautiful. The views from everywhere are incredible.

The property is almost carved into the cliff face, with beautiful roads meandering down the cliff into the water. Facilities are first class, from restaurants to high-speed train transfers, to cleanliness, to service, everything is immaculate.

Thank you all so much... we look forward to returning and seeing your lovely smiles again.

3. Hotel La Bougainville

As soon as I entered the hotel to check-in, I was greeted by Giovanni, who was really kind to me and my husband. We already felt like being at home. His hospitality and passion for what he does are impressive.

Thank you, Giovanni! Our rooms are very clean and the remaining hotel staff is very helpful for any kind of request we have during our stay. If we go back, we will definitely book La Bougainville.

4. Hotel Conca d'Oro Positano

If we could give Conca d'Or 6 stars, we would. Recently we spent a month in Italy spread between Rome, Florence, Cinque Terre and Positano. Absolutely the best hotel during our stay was Conca drosOro in Positano.

Room is excellent, (Deluxe rooms, incredible views), services from Mikaela, Giuseppe, Marco, and Simona are personal and excellent, and outstanding dishes. The location is fantastic, it is somewhat removed from the main beach being appreciated. The restaurants close by were fantastic.

We really feel at home at this hotel and are planning our return trip.

5. Pensione Maria Luisa - Amalfi Coast

This is a good budget option when staying at Positano. Try looking out the ocean or looking out over the terrace and avoid any rooms in the basement. We got a street view room on the first floor and it was very comfortable although very basic.

They even help us keep our luggage when we check-in. Walking from the taxi stop is about 5 minutes and can be managed but try to limit your luggage as it relates to the stairs. There is a curfew at 130h but ask them the key if you party late into the night.

Not recommended for noisy groups and is better for quieter people.

6. Casa Albertina

The hotel is also located right on two large restaurants in Positano and within walking distance of many other places. I would highly recommend!

7. Hotel Pupetto

Following lovely 5 nights in Rome arrived at Hotel Pupetto via train and boat. Met at the harbor by the porter who took our bags ... watched him on a short walk to the hotel. Dream location.

We were just giving our room and a look ... in the sky. The staff was very nice...beautiful breakfast every morning in a restaurant with a Devine view. Prefer less formal restaurants on the beach. Had lunch there most days...beautiful salads etc.

Shown to sun lounges on the beach every day. Idyllic location. Unfortunately this year there were lots of jellyfish so one had to be careful when going into the sea. I loved every minute of the 8-night stay in Pupetto, a family-run hotel. I would definitely recommend and return sometime.

8. Hotel Il Gabbiano

We spent 6 nights at Il Gabbiano and liked it. We are on our honeymoon and ask for a good room and get one. Rooms with larger balconies give you the ability to sunbathe on your own balcony and plenty of room.

The room itself was clean and big enough and we didn’t have any sound problems. The service was good the whole time and the breakfast was delicious. The level of breakfast was standard compared to our experience in Italy.

The views from the breakfast room were excellent. In my opinion, this position is good but requires many steps up and down.

The hotel is quite close to the bus stop up in the hill (the Amalfi-Positano-Sorrento bus does not go down to Positano center) and it was next to the only road going down to the city center so taking a cab or driving a scooter from the hotel was easy.

From the hotel to the ferry pier 10 minutes but the same route back took around 12-15 minutes (uphill road and stair).

9. Ostello Brikette

We were here for four nights and the conditions and services were really nice. The room is clean, the bathroom is okay, and the best part is the view. We had breakfast on one of the days and everything was delicious. The staff is friendly and helpful.

10. Grand Hotel Europa

I have been 2 nights with my family .my triple room was small and the bathroom was old design. If your room was on the 3rd floor you should deliver the suitcase by yourself because the elevator comes only to the 2nd floor. I think this hotel was a good choice in Naples for my family because it was near to the station and had a cleanroom.

More ideals for you: Top 5 Cheap Hotels in Zanzibar

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