#ugh I'm just gonna close the computer and read for a while

[evelyn-rogue]

BATFAM FALLOUT 4 FUSION

Coughing. Frigidly bitter air and unbearable chill -not unlike death's embrace- were all Jason registered as he gasped awake. Soft gel padding pressed against his back, cold metal and a suffocating window ahead. He coughed and jerked, kicking his feet as his breathing sped up.

Wood, clawing, no air.

NO. AIR.

No number of short hysterical breaths seemed to supply his panicked Frenzy. He braced a forearm against the metal, eyes wide as he saw not glass and metal, but nothing, only darkness and splintered wood beneath his nails.

Pain pain pain.

Flesh. Arms held him tight, warmth to ward off the chill.

He clawed and scratched to be free, but soft chilled breath against his neck eventually stilled him. "-ee-" sharp hacking. "Three things -cough- you can -cough cough- see little wing."

Jason breathed sharply, taking a moment. He was on cold metal flooring, surrounded by pods. His fingers dug into Dick's arm. "P-pods." His teeth were chattering. Breath. Nearby Tim sat on the floor in a daze. Cass was leaning with an arm braced against an open pod, coughing sharply, eyes glazed. Steph was on the floor, arm wrapped around her middle, other fist clenched as she hacked and sputtered for breath. All of them wore tight blue jumpsuits, but that was probably the farthest thing from his mind. "Others." Another short cough to mingle with the cacophony of breathless bats.

He relaxed his grip. "What the hell, Dick. Where are we?"

"I... Have no idea." He shook his head miserably, coughing into his elbow.

Jason shoved his older brother off, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He blanched. Gone was the armor he'd last recalled wearing. He was clad in the same utterly useless blue skintight apparel as everyone else.

Jason suppressed a cough and stumbled forward, slamming a hand out to a nearby pod to halt what would have been an unnecessary reunion with the ground.

"Does anyone remember what happened?" Tim asked. "I think -cough- Bruce assigned us all to one mission. Top priority. But- I'm-" He doubled over, coughing up chilled air before Cass spoke up.

"No memory."

"Yeah, that." Steph shortly agreed. Her blond hair was damp, small ice crystals clinging to the locks. She coughed into a fist, then found her footing.

"I've scouted ahead."

Jason snapped his head to the entrance of the room. For there, just as soggy and miserable as the rest of them was Damian. Though he seemed unbearably poised.

"Ugh. Demon's spawn is here to." Tim groaned. "I'm just gonna-" He made a vague gesture to his capsule.

"There's a locked door ahead." Damian supplied, coughing into his closed mouth. "We should perhaps move. If this is one of Waller's facilities, it would be shameful to remain while she plots our recapture."

That was all the spurring needed for the family to collect themselves. "111." Jason read from Steph's back.

And Tim's. Odd. Dick and Cass shared the same blocky yellow letters. Not the identifying numbers of prisoners. Maybe a block number perhaps. But what the he'll were these pods.

"Sometime today perhaps." Damian pressed, thumping his chest with a fist. And Jason could only agree, stumbling away from the tomblike pod he'd emerged from only minutes before.

---

It became abundantly clear that whatever facility they'd been stashed in was just as much a tomb as the pods. Skeletal remains in lab coats and armored jumpsuits lay scattered about, the vault a very old warzone encapsulated in dust.

No shreds of skin remained clinging to bone. The air wasn't putrid. Perhaps a bit stale, but chilled. Recycled maybe. The other pods contained corpses trapped in ice. Tim confirmed no one else had survived.

"Beginning to think this isn't a CADMUS facility." Tim remarked, shivering violently but no less infatuated with the computer in the main office they'd found. "Vault-tec. Ever hear of them?" He asked, rubbing his head.

"No." Dick replied.

There was silence. "Vault was some sort of cryoexperiment. But the dates..." The third Robin pressed his lips together. Steph was perched over his shoulder.

"2077?" She asked. "But... How?"

"I dunno. And that date's the first entry. Atomic warfare-" His brow pinched. "Cryogenic experiments conducted by the military and this vault tech company."

"Participants weren't the most willing I surmise." Damian remarked. Jason had found the pistol on the desk and a few boxes of ammo.

"Jason-"

"That or... They wanted to live." Cass said as Dick tried in vain to snatch the second Robin's new toy.

"Mm. Desperate people." Tim confirmed. "I found a way to open that door there." He rose pausing. 'You know this all seems really familiar."

"From that video-game."

Everyone paused to look at Damian. The boy shrugged. "Kent plays it some times."

"Damian what video game?" Tim asked as Steph picked up a syringe of sorts. It looked like a high tech 'T'

Jason was eyeing a frozen case in the armory as he listened. He wished now more than ever for a lockpick. "Later beautiful." He swore, pressing two fingers to his lips and then the icy glass barring him from the high tech gun.

"I don't recall the name." Damian huffed, small arms folding.

"Well that's helpful." Tim's ire peaked. He paused. A memory, fleeting and dull, but one face. That face. "How the hell did we forget control freak?" He asked sharply.

Jason popped his head out of the armory. "Control freak?"

Steph frowned. "I don't remember-"

"We were fighting control freak." Tim said, scratching his chin. "Said something about taking us out of our element, and there was a blinding light."

"Well crap. I sure don't remember that. But I believe it." Jason was slipping a pistol holster on and cinching it tight. "So what we're in a... A...video-game?"

"I don't know. But we should get out of here." Tim replied. "I'm opening the Hatch."

---

Giant. Roaches.

If Jason thought he was in hell before, that feeling was doubled now.

The gunshots cracked through the small hallway as a wall of massive critters skittered across the floor towards them. Each shot was followed by a continuous scream of terror.

"Jason. Jason it's dead!" Dick cried. Jason unloaded his clip into the gooey corpse of an obliterated radroach regardless.

Steph looked terrified. "Uh."

"We should go." Cass gently pushed Jason forward, the second Robin panting in terror as he cast a backwards glance at that... Thing.

They finally arrived in a large intake room. "Well that's a door." A massive gear shaped slab of metal blocked their exit, the ramp drawn in. Tim studied it. "Let's see if we can get it open."

"If all these bodies are anything to go by, we're screwed." Dick muttered.

"I think this is the control panel." Tim hurried over to Steph. "Big red button." The blond made a vague gesture.

Tim slapped a hand against it.

"Please tell me you didn't just smack the weird red button. "Jason groaned. "Seriously Tim-"

"It beeped." All was quiet. "Looks like it needs a key or something. Look around."

Tim glanced down as his boot snapped something on the floor. His gasp was audible. Not at the ulna he'd just cracked, but at the wrist mounted computer on it's arm.

Cass had found a box of similar ones, taking one out.

"Oh jackpot!" Tim took up the device, and looked for a switch. As it lit up, his eyes gleamed. "This looks like aha." He unplugged some sort of white plug from the back. "Perfect Match. Now to-" There was a click, and Tim paused, locking eyes with Jason.

"Tim if they could hit it and get out-"

"Oh for crying out loud-" Steph slammed the side of her fist into the button. "What now-"

Beep. Beep- bright lights began flashing from a decrepit bulb in the ceiling, alarms drowning out Dick's panicked shout.

Jason whirled on the fourth Robin.

"Steph!"

"I'm sorry!" She cried, heart pounding and mortified. Just her luck. The one red button she'd pushed was the cliche self destruct button in every movie ever.

The bridge rattled, and a large arm shifted.

Hope blossomed in her chest. Cass was clinging to her like a monkey.

"Ha!" Steph cried. "See? I didn't get us killed!"

---

It only took Tim a few minutes to figure out the giant lift. One-eleven graced the rusted metal surface. And as the gears whirred to life, Tim hopped aboard.

The sky was a grayish brown above, two panels pulling apart to admit them. And hell, the sun was blinding. Jason covered his face and ducked his head, eyes burning.

Damian was the first to recover.

"We have a problem."

Jason blinked, peering past his arm as best he could.

A moment later he understood. The world or wherever they were, was a barren desert, dry as a bone with scraggly yellow plants wilting in the sun. No breeze blew.

"New Mexico maybe? Texas?" Dick asked.

"Massachusetts." Tim replied, voice small.. "Near Boston."

"Well crap."

[moonieshinesims]

Generation One - Chapter Three

The last time we saw River she had finally snagged herself a boyfriend! While her studies in other areas weren't so great, her Komorebigo must have improved quite a bit. Her grades and her social status are starting to improve, but there's still an entire semester of her junior year left to survive. And there's the matter of getting information out of Opal...

River arrived to Moonwood Mill and was shocked to see Havarti there as well... in disguise.

"And you think it's okay for her to know who I am?!" River wasn't sure why it was such a big deal if Opal knew that Havarti was snooping around her house.

"Look, this has something to do with my dad and his company and... Ugh. Look, it's stupid professional crap. I know it's dumb, but I can't get in trouble! If she sees you, you'll probably just be beaten up! Me on the other hand... This could ruin my future!"

"What? Talking to Opal could ruin your future?" River wasn't sure what Havarti was getting at, but she did have a better reputation than River did.

"No! Trespassing on her property could ruin it!"

"Trespassing?!" River gasped, "Does she not know we're coming to see her? Did you not contact her?!"

"No! But I can if you give me your phone..."

River rolled her eyes and handed Havarti her cell phone, "Fine. But don't say anything weird."

"She uh... Also said something mean about your breath, but I won't repeat it."

"You do realize I can just read it later, right? It is my phone."

"Oh right." Havarti handed River back her phone and sheepishly laced her fingers together behind her back. "So, since she's not home, she did say that she'd meet you at your house if you wanna talk... I guess that's a bit safer than being in her turf."

"True." River snatched her phone back and went through the messages. "Looks like she wants to meet up tonight!"

"Then I guess you get some answers soon!"

Later that night Opal actually did arrive at River's house to talk...

"Stop being so fucking awkward." Opal stood menacingly with her hands on her hips. "What was so important that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Well, it was about Rohan. Do you remember back when I was sorta going out with him and you made that comment to me?"

"Well, I am with someone else now, but it's just been bothering me..." River shrugged.

"You know how close he and Joe are, right?"

"Yeah." River said, thinking about creepy 'ole Joe Goldberg. She never liked him and being around him always made her skin crawl. She never understood why Rohan was friends with him.

"Did he ever slip anything into one of your drinks? Did he ever take you anywhere super creepy and unsettling? Did he ever leave you with Joe alone...?"

"Whoa! Opal! These questions are really starting to freak me out! What's going on here? What did they do to you?"

"Fine." River knew she wasn't going to get any more out of Opal from her questioning, but was glad to get at least some more insight on the matter. She thanked Opal and parted ways.

Rohan and Joe were up to something weird and dangerous and possibly illegal and unfortunately River wanted to know more. In order to do that, she was going to have to go to the source... Rohan himself!

The next weekend River was asked by her neighbor Lisa to go to a gaming convention with her. She and Lisa used to be good friends in grade school, but hadn't hung out much since then. Lisa was a bit lame, but she was a good person, so River agreed.

She really wasn't enjoying herself that much, but wanted to keep up the facade to make Lisa happy. She let her drag her around, showing her game demos, letting her point out her favorite cosplayers, and explaining the mechanics of her favorite new releases.

But, at some point there was a panel that River decided to sit out.

"You go on ahead! I'm gonna take a break and check out this computer game!" River told Lisa. In reality, she just wanted to check her email and practice Komorebigo on SimLingo.

As good fortune would have it, while she was on the computer a familiar face showed itself.

She decided to take this opportunity to ask him some questions about what Opal was implying about him and Joe.

"...Yeah? Was that a problem?"

"Well, kinda. I've been hearing a lot of weird things about you two. Do you want to tell me why I've been told you two do bad things to people?"

"But over a break up? That seems a little fishy Rohan... There has to be something more to this story. Somebody isn't telling me something."

After pleading the fifth, Rohan took his exit, leaving River feeling like she was onto something by cornering him with questions. Asking him outright probably wasn't the way to go, but if she kept snooping she may eventually find out what sorta shady stuff Rohan and Joe were really into!

Feeling perturbed by the whole situation, after a few days River asked Ichiban if they could hang out soon. He promptly asked her on a date to his favorite hang out spot in town.

"It might be!" Ichiban grinned, "But don't worry, I'll protect you."

"But why would you think something bad is going to happen?"

"What if, theoretically of course, I got wrapped up with some bad people and they eventually wanted to hurt me?" River of course wasn't sure anything bad would happen at all, but it would be nice if her boyfriend had her back. Just in case.

Ichiban's face contorted in anger, "If anyone hurts you, I'll kill them!"

That was a bit more of an extreme reaction than what River was expecting, but it made her happy, which was a good way to be when Winter Fest was approaching...

River made sure to invite Ichiban over to exchange gifts with him. This was her first Winter Fest with a boyfriend. Well, her first time having a boyfriend period. She wasn't sure how he was going to respond to being invited over, but he seemed to enjoy himself.

After Ichiban took time to check out all the decorations, River decided it was time to give him the gift she bought for him at the market. She wasn't sure what he needed or would like to have, since they hadn't actually discussed it, but the dinosaur snow globe reminded her of something goofy she thought he would enjoy.

"Ah. Well, you're with me now, so get used to romantic presents. You realize that in my country Winter Fest is mostly celebrated only by couples?"

"I had no idea!" River suddenly felt warm and fuzzy. "So, do you like being with me?"

"Of course I do! You're my first girlfriend! I never even thought about dating before I met you. I didn't really have an interest, but I think you and I make a great pair."

Before she got too nervous and changed her mind, River decided to try her luck at attempting a mistletoe kiss with Ichiban. She leaned in and planted her lips on his.

The fact that he didn't pull away or make a face told River he enjoyed it. Afterwards the two of them were so enticed by one another, they didn't realize River's sister Mercy had snuck into the room.

"Oh, hush!" River retorted.

Ichiban laughed, "One day you'll find a boy you wanna kiss too."

Mercy continued making gagging sounds as Ichiban and River took their leave to the kitchen. He had to leave, but gave her one more kiss at the door before he made his exit. He promised to invite her out again soon, after the holidays were over.

The next day Winter Fest arrived!

The family enjoyed a tasty brunch together, then sat and talked about what they thought they were going to get from Father Winter. Mercy always asked for lots of gifts, but River was in such a good mood from the night before, she didn't care what type of gift she ended up with.

When Father Winter did arrive that night, they all received gifts they didn't know they wanted, but were happy to get! Winter Fest ended as a success for everyone in the Smoke household, leaving them with a positive outlook as they made their way into a brand new year...

[shitty-check-please-aus]

You should get dinner and sleep!!! But also: the first step to making friends is spending time with people and thats kind of hard to do right now!!! We're all going to be figuring it out again soon, but Ive seen a lot of people with similar worries. so my advice is to be brave. Approach people. Friends are looking for you as much as you are looking for them.

Also. Don't be afraid to try hanging out with people and have it not quite work out how you hoped - sometimes to make friends it takes tome to narrow down who you're really comfortable and compatible with. Don’t let that deter you! And remember it's ok to have some friends who are good for certain things. You can have friends where all you ever really do is watch movies together, and you can sleepovers where you tell personal secrets in the vulnerable quiet of 3am, and maybe the friend who knows all your secrets doesn’t have the same taste in movies and thats fine!

Also a good way to make friends (that you can do right now) is just to do an internet search for "(interest of yours) Discord server". There almost always is one. Ive seen them for rock climbing, or band fandom, or rabbit raising, or minecraft servers members, or poetry appreciation. Heck I've been IN some of those! There will almost always be one for whatever you're interested in - get to chatting with people who share your interests!! Get out there and make friends!

okay this was kind of a lot of asks and I’m assuming they’re all from the same person because the second and third start with “also.” So, I’m gonna kind of go point by point. It’s all stuff that I think would be really great encouragement for someone who was new to this journey, but I’ve run into some problems since I’ve been trying for a while. These were some of my pre-pandemic issues, btw.

I don’t actually think that people are looking for friends as much as I’m looking for them, tbh! Or maybe a better way of putting it is that I don’t think that I’m the kind of friend that people in my city want. I’m a one-drink maximum person who doesn’t smoke (I can be around drunk people but cigarette and weed smoke gives me nausea/headache), and that doesn’t really align with the general culture around here. And even when I’ve tried to do things where those aren’t factors (being a regular at a group exercise class, taking classes at an improv place, going to events at bookstores, going to every single NaNoWriMo meetup I could) I get the vibe that people are, as if the world was America’s Next Top Model, not there to make friends. 

I do have a book club that I joined last February (rip @ the timing) and they are all nice people to talk to once every 6 weeks or so on zoom, but I would put them in the acquaintance category because like, I've talked to them like 10-12 times over the past year

At this point I would settle for a “Can go out to a short lunch one-on-one sometimes” friend, which is a lower goal than my previous “Could go to an occasional concert with me” friend, or the even higher goal of a “Would go to trivia nights regularly with me” friend.  3AM secrets are reserved for Popcorn the Cat. 

I’m in one fairly dead NaNoWriMo discord, but I have no idea what the etiquette is supposed to be on discord and I’m terrified I’ll do things wrong and people will hate me. This may be social anxiety. Like, how often are you supposed to contribute? Is it rude to not say enough? Is it rude to say too much? What are the little emoji reactions supposed to do, is it bad if you use those too much / too little?

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Summary: Winry sat in the optimal place to study in the school cafe for the entire fall semester. Then spring came, and suddenly some self-entitled twit who dressed like off-brand Gerard Way decided it was his territory. He was so not going to get off easy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k words of coffee shop/college AU with a side of enemies to almost-lovers

A/N: It's finals week, I posted this on Ao3 at almost 5am, and if the rest of the sentence didn't make it obvious, I'm writing from unfortunate experience. Not beta-ed or proofread, although I happened to see one thing to fix when I woke up this morning. Feel my raw power. Rawr.

It wasn't that big a deal.

It kind of really was, though.

Every Thursday morning during the fall semester, Winry sat in the same spot at the same school coffee shop. It was the spot sent by the entire patron pantheon of cram papers. Maybe one person didn't need an entire booth, but it was in the corner, and the tops of the bench seats had opaque plastic barriers that just so happened to be perfect for minimizing excess visual chaos. For the most part, there weren't loud conversations, and the jazz music that came through the speakers helped her tune out people ordering coffee. Add to that the fact that she could use campus flex dollars and not her own bank account that was begging for mercy, and it was the perfect spot to get papers done.

But apparently not this spring.

As soon as Winry walked in, she noticed him in the corner. Some emo wannabe guy on his computer. Probably on Reddit complaining about how women didn't appreciate the amazing pics he sent them on Tinder. Or at least, it was a fair guess based on the sour look on his face. Why did this guy of all people have to steal the holy grail spot? Ugh. She was still gonna get her coffee, darn it.

"You know the deal, Sciezska. Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer."

"On it! You paying in flex?"

"Yeah." She scanned her student ID and lowered her voice. "Who's off-brand Gerard Way in the corner?"

"Who's Ger—"

"The punk kid."

"Ohhh. I can try to get his number for you, if you want."

"No, he looks like a total tool! And not the kind I like dealing with!"

"Which means you think he's hot. I didn't think you were into that type, but you're not wrong."

"For the last time, no, Sciezska! He took my spot! And I'm trying very, very hard to keep this to a stage whisper, but if you keep trying to set me up with some random creep, I won't be able to!"

A distinctly male voice grumbled, "I'm not a creep."

"Keep telling that to the girls on Tinder. I'm sure they'll understand eventually."

"Yeah, and I'll bet if you look at your 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign a little more, you'll understand it eventually." He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Lay off, it's eight in the morning. I said the only reason I even have a Tinder account is because my roommate stole my phone while I was going to the bathroom."

"Well, if you didn't want it, why didn't you delete it?"

"Eh, I figured if I really got sick of being single one day, it'd already be there."

"Never would have guessed you were single," Winry said dryly.

"Come on, it's way too early to be rubbing that kind of crap in. Who says I'm not fine with being single anyway?"

Sciezska timidly spoke up. "Medium roast with espresso and vanilla creamer?"

Winry thanked her as red jacket boy continued. "'Edward Elric, Bachelor.' Almost sounds as good as 'Edward Elric, Bachelor of Science.'"

"B.S. degree. Sounds about right."

"About time you stopped acting like I'm an idiot!"

Winry snorted. "That's not what I meant."

"Hey!"

"And with that, I'm going to go find some other spot to write my paper."

Edward, as his name apparently was, scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "good riddance". Maybe the librarians wouldn't get on her case too much for bringing in coffee.

-----

A week later, Winry walked into the cafe, assuming the circumstances of the previous week were an anomaly. They were not.

"Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer," she grumbled and sulked in the direction of the corner seat.

"Hey, don't start with me again, blondie. I've had a whopping four hours of sleep and I can't promise you'll like what comes out of my mouth."

"We're at a coffee shop. Get some coffee. I can't help it if you're too hung over to be polite."

"Now look, genius. I did not stay up until 4 A.M. working on a stupid chem paper for that sadistic pyromaniac excuse for a professor just for some random chick to accuse me of being hung over."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And for your information, coffee doesn't really help me wake up. It just helps me focus on homework." He lifted up his empty cup and gave it a shake.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"ADHD is a weird thing, and yet, here I am."

"Huh, interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pick up where I left off with the same stupid ten page paper I started last night."

"Oh right. Sure," Winry stammered. "Listen, I'm really sorry I just assumed things about you. It was wrong of me, and I'd like to make it up to you, if that's okay."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well...I could look over your paper once you're done writing it? I've got a paper of my own to write while I'm waiting, and I can sit right across the table here so you don't have to come get me. I won't try to talk to you or anything. Neither of us need that kind of distraction."

"Alright, alright. Get your coffee and sit down. The girl at the counter's been up there waiting for a good minute or two while you've been at confessional over here."

"Wait, she has?" Winry's eyes widened, and Edward laughed at her expense. He was kind of attractive when he wasn't scowling...wait what? She pouted and got up to retrieve her coffee. When Winry returned, she plopped down on the bench opposite Edward and opened her laptop. Peeking out from behind it, she added, "By the way, I'm Winry. I figured you ought to at least know the name of the person who's proofreading your paper."

"Well, Winry, you're the one who volunteered." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. The two worked on their assignments in silence, occasionally speaking up when necessary.

-----

Edward was in the corner again the next week as well.

"Hey, Edward! Mind if I join you for homework again?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but you didn't bother me too much last week, so you might as well." He turned away slightly.

"Great! Have you gotten your coffee yet? I didn't see a cup, and you got something the last two times."

"Eh, I haven't been here long. If you're going up and getting yours, would you mind ordering a caramel macchiato for me?" He asked, sliding his ID across the table.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be back in a sec."

She returned and slipped his ID back before pulling out her computer. "Do you have anything for me to look over this time?"

"Not this week. But if you have anything you need looked over, I can do that, too."

"Actually, I do, if you wouldn't mind."

"Winry, I just volunteered. Just send the paper to my school email. Mine's 'elricedwa'," he instructed as he proceeded to spell it.

"Medium roast and a caramel macchiato?" Sciezska called out.

"Coming!" Winry replied and turned to Edward. "I just sent it, so you should be able to start while I'm getting our stuff." Eyes glued to his laptop, Edward gave a thumbs up.

Once she returned with their drinks, Winry sat down and wordlessly set Edward's drink next to him.

"Thanks," he muttered distantly. His lips mirrored the words he was reading. Though his lips weren't plump by any stretch of the imagination, they were shapely. His steely concentration made the air leave Winry's lungs. To top it all off, the first rays of sunlight came through the window just right, hitting Edward's hair in a way that made it positively glow.

What was she thinking? Those were only the sorts of things people thought when they had a crush. She'd only had two positive interactions with him, including this one. ...well, maybe it was a crush. She could certainly do worse than someone with a questionable fashion sense. After all, he worked hard, and he got good grades, if the quality of his writing was any indication. Okay, fine. He was also drop dead gorgeous, if you could see past his clothing choices. Yeah, she had a crush.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"...no."

"Figures. I finished reading your paper. It's not bad, I just left a few suggestions for sentence structure. Now I am going to enjoy my caramel macchiato." He took off the lid and breathed in the steam with his eyes closed, nearly drooping into the cup in content. When he opened his eyes slowly, Winry was awestruck by the similarity between the color of his eyes and his drink.

"What?" Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. At all. Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged. She reopened the document and went through his suggested edits. Gnawing her lip in concentration, she leaned forward a bit to settle in and tackle the editing.

"...hey, uh, Winry?" Edward gulped. "Are you going to drink your coffee?"

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks, Edward!" she smiled.

"No–no problem. And you can call me Ed, you know. Most people do. Except for that excuse for a professor that calls me pipsqueak. Can you believe he's my advisor? I mean, come on, I'm a grown man. I'm not that short."

Winry made a poor attempt at containing her laughter. "Okay then, Ed. Prove it. Stand up."

"Fine." He slid out of the booth and stood. Winry followed suit and appraised their respective heights.

"Well, I'd hardly call you tall, but you're at least taller than me by a few inches, for whatever that's worth."

Edward grinned as if he had won some sort of prize. "Time for shorties to sit down now!"

"Watch it now. You're not too far from that label yourself, mister."

They both returned to their positions in the booth and worked steadily for the next hour. At the end of that time, Winry closed her laptop. "Ed, are you okay? You seem distracted."

"ADHD. I'm always distracted," he dismissed.

"No, like, are you sick or something? You did get more than four hours of sleep this time, right?"

"No comment." Ed's mouth twitched. He mumbled barely loud enough to hear, "Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can drive you over to the health center."

"N-no. That's not it." He exhaled, then slid a napkin across the table. His hands trembled slightly. "Anyway, here's my number. In case you need me to look over a paper. Or whatever. I've got a class soon."

Winry blushed, but tucked the napkin in her laptop. "Thanks, Ed. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

-----

Winry: This goes with your major, right?

Edward: Blocked

[lastarabesque]

Best Friend Surprise (1/4)

Morning. Excruciating morning.

Nothing could ever compare to the pain that you are feeling right now. It pierces through your entire womanhood and lacerates the muscles in your body. Like a sharp edged knife, it tears every single tissue inside you.

You are all prepped for school but you are still rolling around your bed in your uniform. If only the pain would stop in an instant. You pick up your phone, left with no choice, as you dial a number.

"Seungcheol."

"What? I'm eating." He nearly ended the call when your voice echoed in his ear.

"Ya!" You raise your voice at him. At the very least, he should listen to what you are about to say.

"What's your problem?" He returned your exasperation before finally recalling the reasons why you get real irritated. Either you fought with your boyfriend or no way— "Red day?"

"How do you know me so well? I love you." Now when you're sweet talking like this, he knows you need something.

"You should atleast say that with sincerity." His voice is low when he responded.

"What?"

"I said why don't you ask your lovely boyfriend to buy those pads? It's embarrassing for me."

"If you're embarrassed then what more will he be? And, I'm not asking for pads. I only need a pain reliever so buy one along your way."

"Whatever. Hang up, I'm eating."

"Would you eat faster? I don't want to run late aga—" He ended the call because if not, you'll begin with your nonstop talking again. "That punk."

Seungcheol finished his food at once to get to you quick despite being grumpy about it. He may not show it but he cares for you a lot in his own ways not just as a bestfriend, but mostly like an older brother. He looks after you all the time and you're more than grateful.

"Good morning." The pharmacist greets him. He smiled back.

"Do you have any medicine for stomachache? Wait, technically not the stomach but the part where it hurts when ladies get their, um, well, period." Seungcheol looks like he's having a fight with himself. The pharmacist understood him anyway, she chuckled shortly before nodding.

"Dysmenorrhea, you mean. Here." The day just started, he hasn't even settled a foot at school but he already had his allowance deducted because of you. He doesn't really care much about it though. "For your mom or for your sister?"

"Not for them."

"So for your girlfriend? I knew it." She carefully handed him the small plastic bag.

"Yeah, girl friend."

"I suggest you also buy this.", pertaining to the chocolate bar displayed at the counter. "Chocolates release happy hormones. It can help remove her grumpiness."

"Give me two then. I think I need it more." He just knows that this is gonna be a stressful day for him.

He marched to your house, which is not really that far from his, just about two blocks away from the pharmacy right across their street. He didn't know that he'll need the chocolate as soon as he arrives at your residence because your boyfriend is waiting right in front of your gate.

"Dude." He nods at Seungcheol.

"Hey." Seungcheol awkwardly greeted back. He's not really close with your guy and they're uncomfortable together but he tries to put up with him for you. "Why don't you get in instead of waiting here?"

"Uh, actually I didn't tell her that I'm coming to pick her up today."

"Why?"

"Element of surprise?" He's definitely putting himself in danger. Surprise is the last thing you want anyone to do for you. You hate everything that is unplanned and Seungcheol knows better than your boyfriend.

"Surprise? Oh," Seungcheol ran out of words. Just thinking of how you would react to this is enough to make him speechless. "I'll get her."

Seungcheol opened your complicatedly designed gate easily as if he lives there, clearly shows how often he's been to your house. As he opened the door, your mom just knew it was him.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" She called out from the kitchen. He went to greet her first.

"Yes, mom. And guess what?" He rested his elbows at the mini bar while watching your mom prepare your lunch. "Her guy is waiting outside."

"Then let him in."

"He won't get in. He said it's a surprise." He has his voice real low as if sharing a very crucial information.

"Oh my god." Your mom remains calm. "He's trying to get himself killed."

"Well." Seungcheol shrugs. "I'll inform her before this gets worse."

"That's best. Go then, I'll pack lunch for you."

Sometimes when he's really clingy to your mom you think like she seems to like him more than you, her own daughter. It's fine though. Anyway, Seungcheol is like a brother already.

***

"Thank you." Seungcheol hugged your mom from behind before getting you.

"Are you serious?" You panic as soon as Seungcheol told you the unwanted information. Good thing you already ate the pill you asked him to buy.

"Why would I even joke about it?" He retorted as he opens a pack of chocolate. "But I bought this to calm you down. Here." He shove a piece in your mouth, you almost choke if the thought of the surprise doesn't dominate your mind.

Super annoying.

Surprises are not really a big deal but you just entirely hate the thought of having to react to it. It burdens you and pressures you a lot. Having things planned and laid accordingly is better than taking anything out of the blue. It's not a good attitude and you are trying to work on it but you can't be ready for it as soon as today. Especially because you have your period.

"I'm not supposed to tell you about it so act surprised, okay?" You glared at him shortly.

"Ugh, I hate this!"

"Aigoo," He clicked his tongue. "This is why you shouldn't date guys you don't know well and guys who don't know you well."

"You're the only guy who knows me too well, Cheol. Don't even suggest." You slung your bag and flew out of the room, almost banging your door. Your mom heard the heavy footsteps as you come to the kitchen to get your food.

"Calm down, honey."

"You didn't have to bother, mom. I can just eat cafeteria food but thanks." You kiss her cheek goodbye as she sends signals to Seungcheol. Seungcheol gave her a thumbs up before following you out of the door.

Just as said, your boyfriend is waiting outside when you walked out. You tried to act surprised despite the fact that you already knew about it and hated it before it happened. Seungcheol wants to laugh on your face for your awkward reaction but he couldn't do so after seeing your boyfriend buying the act. He can only shake his head.

Now, next to all this is Seungcheol's unbearable thirdwheeling. It's somewhat a usual thing now but he still can't get used to being silent whenever your guy is around. There's no other option but to zip his mouth and listen to your sweet talks and nonstop giggling. He gave out a heavy sigh for the nth time as you walk. He actually spent the weekend in his hometown and there are events that happened which he wants to tell you. He has stories about the breathtaking sceneries he saw, the great food he ate, the warm people he met and the unforgettable experiences he had but he can't cut through the conversation to even say a word. He just silently trailed behind the two of you as you go on with the lovey dovey moments, breathing a sigh once more.

It hasn't been a month yet since you started dating the guy but Seungcheol still remembers the day you told him about it, freshly, as if it was just yesterday.

"Then do so." He forced himself to say. "Just don't come crying."

"O-okay..." You are surprised of how cool and uninterested he was. "I'll try."

It may be the idea of having your first boyfriend or the thrill and flutter which got you there but whatever it is, Seungcheol just dislikes the thought of you having a boyfriend.

Simply because it was not him.

He saw him intertwined his fingers with yours, it killed him inside. He wants to beat him up for touching you, for even laying a finger on you but he's not in the place to do that. He doesn't have any right too. You glance at him from your shoulder as he press a faint smile. He has to be ready for all of this. Especially because not just a simple skinship may happen next.

He knows that he can do better and he's more fit for the role but he still let you do what you want because he doesn't want to tell you yet. Neither of you is ready for it plus he thought you'll get over that guy after a while and break up but seeing your smile as you walk together scared him. Because what if you eventually fall deeper and never leave the moment?

***

"What?"

"Cheol," You kick his chair right across yours but he didn't look back. There's no teacher around but he's acting so serious over a book with his chin on his knuckles.

"Um,.. I just forgot to thank you yesterday. Thank you." Not that it's a very urgent matter but it has been your habit to always make sure he knows that he is appreciated. Well, partly is because you want to initiate a conversation. He's just acting indifferent these past few days, honestly not just recently but way before. You can't exactly recall but it started around the time you had a boyfriend. He just suddenly became so distant and difficult like he purposely doesn't want let you in.

"Whatever. Next time ask your lovely boyfriend to do that for you." His voice is so soft it's almost inaudible. His seatmate then stood up to leave his seat and the room so you took the chance to sit next to him. Only to find him sleeping.

"Wow, I really thought you're reading this stupid book." You pull his head to rest on your shoulder because he's struggling in his position. "Did you stay up late for computer games again? Why are you this sleepy?"

You stare at him from your shoulder, scanning his features for good seconds and realizing again that damn, your bestfriend got really beautiful eyes. You always envied him for it. Those pair of orbs that you always look into whenever you converse with him. You can willingly get lost in it and he doesn't even know.

"I'm having a girlfriend soon." He suddenly cut your thoughts with his announcement. His voice is weak and his eyes remains shut.

"You're what?" Oh, how you hate surprises.

"I said I think I'm having a girlfriend soon."

+++++

[porkchop-ao3]

Hi hi. I've been feeling down lately. Like I'm no ones favorite. Can I have a clingy obsessed Rick?

Thank you for your patience with this! Hope this is okay. I didn’t want to go too far with the obsessive thing in case it got out of character, but I hope you like it! I was inspired by my recent uni work... But this fic by no means reflects the way I work xD 

Just over 3k words!

_

My eyes skimmed across the words on my computer screen as I took a sip of tea, the only break I would allow myself because hey, I needed to stay hydrated. As soon as the mug was out of my hands though, my fingers were back on the keyboard, tapping away and filling the screen with more text. Of course, at this point it was all laughable bullshit; as are most essays when they’re started four hours before the deadline. Every point was being dragged out to entire paragraphs, my evidence was being stretched as much as was acceptable to back me up, I’m pretty sure I’d questioned the meaning of life somewhere three paragraphs ago but I’d made it work. I couldn’t afford to go back and change it now anyway, at least whoever had the pleasure of marking the damn thing would have a good laugh. My lecturers had said that technically there were no right or wrong answers for this particular essay, as long as I could back up what I was saying… Well, there was some kind of evidence for everything I’d said so could they really dispute me?

It was all my fault, though. I’d been drifting off to a peaceful slumber, under the sweet illusion that I was completely done for the semester, when suddenly that five thousand word essay I’d forgotten about drifted into mind and jolted me awake. That was two hours ago, and it was currently four in the morning; just two hours away from the six o'clock deadline for the online submission. I was getting there though, just another two thousand words would do it.

With a stressed sigh, I flicked through the book in front of me, searching the index for keywords, absolutely anything I could use. I just needed a scrap of evidence, a slightly relevant quote, and I’d be good for at least two paragraphs. I laughed aloud when I found something, it was bordering on delerium at this point. I was back on the keyboard then, bashing out my next point, just letting the bullshit part of my brain run with it, barely registering what I was typing. I barely even flinched when the darkened room lit up with green light, I just sighed again, my fingers never pausing.

“Not now, Rick.” I said, narrowing my eyes at the screen, my concentration lapsing momentarily, making me forget my flow.

“Oh, oh wow, th-thanks, that’s really -urrghhh- nice.” Rick slurred behind me, and I knew straight away that he was hammered. I rolled my eyes and read through my last few sentences as I tried to tune him out. “I thought you said you were done, on- on the phone you said y-you were fin-ugh-shed.”

“Yeah, then I remembered this entire essay I had to do.” I murmured, what little I had left of my concentration shattering as I felt the warmth of his presence lean over me to look at the screen. His chest brushed my shoulder and he reached an arm out to lean on the desk, shrouding me in his presence.

“Uhhh, are you high? A-are you even reading what you’re writing right now?” He commented after a moment.

“No. To both of those questions.” I told him, carrying on with the essay despite his quips.

“I thought, urp, you were studying art, not ph-philosophy. That’s some deep shit you’re playing with there, what is your essay even supposed to be on?”

“Please Rick, just let me get on with this. If you’re here to get laid then come back tomorrow. Or in two hours, whatever, I don’t care. Just after this is done.” I grumbled. Rick made a sound of irritation, then straightened up, distancing himself from me. I heard him stumbling around the room, fiddling with stuff I couldn’t see. Then I heard the telltale trickle of liquid on metal as he took a drink from his flask.

“Just wanted to see you, s-sorry I’m such a- such a fucking inconvenience.” He said under his breath. I felt a spark of guilt, then brushed it off just as fast. My work had to come first on this occasion.

“I’ll be done soon.” I said, discarding the book in front of me and replacing it with a different one. Fresh book, fresh evidence.

Rick came back over to my desk, picking up a piece of paper, which I knew to be the essay brief. He then proceeded to flick through some of the other papers on my desk, notes, pictures, plans; all hastily done and probably illegible to anyone but me… and even I struggled to read it.

“S-so you gotta compare these two photographs?” He asked. I nodded, not looking up at the images he was showing me. “You talked about how one was taken by a woman and one was taken by a man? Y-you could, urp, could make somethin’ out of that, right?”

“Probably, toss the idea of feminism around and I could get about six hundred words done. Thanks.” I said, making a quick note of the idea in pencil on the closest piece of paper; the textbook. Rick grabbed a chair from the other side of the room and took a seat next to me, slinging an arm over the back of my chair.

“You wrote the word ‘interesting’ three times in the same sentence, there.” He told me, pointing to the screen. “You could change the third one to impactful, think that’d work.” He murmured, disinterestedly yet focused.

“You’re helping me?” I asked, finally looking at him for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Two heads are better than one.” He shrugged. “Would it help you finish faster?”

“I think so. Hell, I might even pass.” I snorted.

“Alright. Let’s get this done, then we can make out, how’s that sound?” He said distractedly, fiddling with a strand of my hair. I raised a brow at him.

“You’re acting strangely.” I noted. “You’re being… nice.”

“Wh-ugh-at, and I’m a cunt for the other three-hundred-and-sixty-whatever days of the year?” He slurred.

“No! You’re just nicer than usual.” I shrugged, turning back to the screen.

“I miss you.” He told me, his voice so quiet I barely heard it. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder more tightly and pulled me into his side. My eyes widened and I sat there, rigid under the unexpected contact. With the proximity, I could smell the alcohol on him, and was convinced that it was to blame. “I’ve barely seen you for two weeks.” He added, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“All my deadlines…” I trailed off. I didn’t need to explain, he knew.

“Still think you should drop out. School is bad enough, but art school?” He scoffed.

“Hey, it’s another three years I don’t have to worry about starting a proper career.” I told him, twisting to nestle into his chest, essay momentarily forgotten.

“Sure, but is it worth the thousands of dollars?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” I sighed and closed my eyes, the fact that it was past four in the morning hit me in the form of sudden fatigue. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Rick’s hand stroked up and down my upper arm, his other hand feeding more alcohol into his mouth. He placed his flask down on my desk then reached for my chin, tilting my head up and kissing me, I responded for a while, leaning into him and enjoying the sensations. I knew I had to stop eventually though, and with a groan I turned my head towards to screen, breaking the kiss. Rick didn’t stop, spreading his kisses over my cheek and temple, down to the side of my neck. I sighed at the attention, but pulled away, turning to face the computer and attempting to get back to work. Rick’s arms encircled my waist, his kisses moving to the back of my neck and the curve of my shoulder, my body tingled and I longed to give him my undivided attention, but the clock was ticking.

“Okay, next point. Feminism.” I said under my breath, trying my very best to ignore what was going on behind me, but Rick wasn’t making it easy for me. His hands found their way to my breasts, squeezing them through my long nightshirt. My nipples hardened against his palms, and I chewed on my bottom lip.

“Remember, there are words other than 'interesting’.” He mumbled into my shoulder, and I snorted, backspacing on the keyboard as he caught me red handed.

“Thank you.” I said, my tone strained. Rick was quiet for another paragraph, silently distracting me with his touch, his persistent kisses egging me on, lighting a fire under me to get this shitty essay done so that I could be with him. I flicked through the book, finding a vague quote about female photographers. Perfect.

“S-sit on my lap, come on.” He whispered to me.

“What? No, I thought you wanted me to finish this quickly.” I laughed, gasping as he slid his hands under my shirt, resting his cool hands on my stomach.

“Come on.” He repeated, pulling me towards him. I gave in, sliding onto his lap, appreciating his little hum of approval as I did. I leaned back against his chest, and surprisingly I found that the rise and fall of his chest helped to focus me, and before I knew it I had another paragraph. I was close to the end; I could see the light at the end of the tunnel and all I needed to do was conclude. I saved the document, just in case, then skim read the entire essay. Sure, it was a fucking trainwreck from start to finish, but it would suffice. I made a mental note of the points I’d made, then made a start on my conclusion.

“Almost there.” I said, biting on my lip as I summed up my essay, pulling it all together to create what I hoped would be a convincing conclusion. A few hundred words later, and it was done, with an hour to spare before the deadline. I was on the low end of the word count guideline, but it would have to do. I checked my references, made sure my bibliography was in order, and loaded up the essay submission page.

“Aren’t you gonna read it back?” Rick asked me, his hands sliding down to my thighs.

“I don’t think it’ll make much difference at this point.” I said, uploading the file. “It’s better than nothing, right? At least I’ve produced an essay.”

“Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes and clicked 'submit’, immediately closing down the page along with all my other windows, putting the whole ordeal to the back of my mind as I shut the computer down.

“Whatever, it’s done now.” I said, feeling the weight lifting from my shoulders with those words.

“Finally.” Rick said, standing up and forcing me to do the same. He dragged me over to my bed by my wrist and pulled me on top of him as he threw himself down. He kissed me, pushing his tongue past the easily broken seal of my lips, moaning into me. His hands explored my body, feeling me all over like they were starved. “Mm, missed this.” He broke away to tell me, but not for long. He rolled onto his side, grabbing my thigh and hooking it over his hip, putting our groins close together. He ground into me, and I felt his growing erection against my core.

“Rick.” I protested. “This is all you’ve been waiting for?” I asked, irritation clear in my voice. Rick didn’t stop his grinding, groaning quietly.

“Please.” He sounded unusually desperate, and I raised a brow. When I didn’t respond, he slid his hand into my underwear, rolling my clit beneath his fingers in lazy circles. “It’s been so long…”

“It’s been two weeks. I’m tired. I just want to cuddle.” I whined, but that didn’t stop me from effectively riding his hand, tilting my hips into his touch. His fingers moved down, sliding between my slick folds and entering me. I cursed under my breath and clung to his lab coat.

“I want you. Fuck, you’re wet.” He whispered to me, thrusting his fingers, groaning when I tightened around him, my breath catching. “Let me…” he trailed off, his other hand going to his fly, freeing himself from the confines of his pants, he stroked himself as he pleasured me. I gave my approval by pushing his coat from his shoulders and lifting his shirt over his head. He kicked his pants off onto the floor then came close to me, pulling my panties aside.

“Woah, slow down.” I laughed, bracing a hand on his chest. I pulled my nightshirt over my head and tossed it behind me, meanwhile, Rick was pulling my panties down my legs.

“I need to- oh, fuck.” He sighed, staring at my body. He leaned in to kiss me again, a hand on the back of my neck. “How did I go so long without this? Y-you’re like fuckin’… Crack. C’mere.” He urged me closer, thrusting his cock between my legs, letting it slide across my pussy. I wrapped my leg around his hips and nestled closer.

“Do it.” I told him, my words little more than an exhale. I didn’t have to ask him twice, he sunk into me slowly, inch by sweet inch he filled me up. “Oh yes…” I sighed, my eyes falling closed. There was a slight sting, having been a while since we’d done this, but it mingled with the pleasure so nicely.

“Have you touched yourself these last two weeks?” He asked me.

“I’m sorry?” I exclaimed, confused and taken aback by the question.

“I wanna know if- how many times you came without me since the last time we did this.” He said, and I flushed, involuntarily rocking my hips.

“Not even once.” I told him truthfully.

“Mmm, bet you’re sensitive, hmm?” He asked, his fingers returning to my clit as he started moving, rocking into me at a moderate pace that showed little patience. I was grateful for it.

“Yes. I want you to make me cum.” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck and threading one hand through his hair. He thrust harder, quickening his pace early on and groaning throatily.

“Fuck.” He spat, his free hand clinging to my thigh. I pulsed my muscles around him, feeling shockwaves of pleasure each time, I let my head roll back as I bucked my hips to meet his thrusts, trapping his hand between our bodies. “Ohh god, you’re so gorgeous. So fuckin’ perfect, fuck.”

It turned into desperate, unrefined rutting, but neither of us had the intention of drawing this out. This was needy. Desperate. Purely lust-fueld. I needed release, and I needed to feel Rick cum inside me. I hadn’t realised how much I had needed this, and now that I was getting it, I couldn’t get it fast enough. Rick kissed my throat, leaving sloppy wet marks across the column of my neck, then he bit down on my shoulder. He sucked and licked at me, tasting the salt of my perspiration. His fingers moved purposefully over my clit, rubbing it tight, quick circles that wrung the pleasure out of me effortlessly.

“Cum. I want you to squeeze my- squeeze the cum out of my balls, baby.” He growled, and his words alone sent waves through my body, dizzyingly intense pleasure that pushed me to the edge. “Mmm, feel how wet you are for me, did you miss this?”

“Yes, Rick.” I nodded wildy, hanging off the edge, ready to plummet. With one particularly rough thrust of his hips, I was gone. “Rick!” I called his name loudly, completely forgetting about the thin walls of my dorm room. My pussy throbbed around him, contracting with an orgasm that I could only describe as perfect. It felt like it would go on forever, building with an intensity that made my eyes squeeze shut. I wasn’t even finished when Rick joined me, and I drew his climax into me, welcoming it with a satisfied groan.

We came down together, slowing to a stop and letting our bodies slump against the bed. Rick pulled out of me and proceeded to stroke his softening cock against my opening, smearing his seed in a display of vulgar pride. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Mmm, look at that.” He commented quietly, spreading my lips with his fingers and watching the mess he was making with interest. I left him to it, closing my eyes and letting the sleepless nights from the previous week catch up with me. Rick pressed a couple of kisses to my forehead, letting out a satisfied sigh. The bed shifted as he got up to leave, and I was momentarily offended, until I heard the bathroom door opening. He returned a moment later with a washcloth, and gently cleaned us up. I hummed appreciatively, pulling him back over to me, he dragged the duvet with him and covered us up.

“So you missed me, hmm?” I said tiredly, a little smile on my face.

“Don’t get any ideas.” He warned, but wrapped his arms around me regardless.

“You love me.” I smirked. The only response I got was an exasperated sigh. I laughed to myself, and tucked my head under his chin. “Goodnight.”

“It’s half past five in the morning.” He commented in amusement. “We might as well start the day at this point.”

“Fuck that. I’m sleeping through till next week.” I said. He grunted, then pecked the top of my head.

“Well done, for getting all your shit finished.” He said, though it sounded like it pained him to say it. I smiled regardless. “Glad to have you back.” He added, punctuating his words with a squeeze of his arms.

[chiliiscereal]

Okay so I kinda wanted something a little heart felt and sad, and I got back into Voltron again so here we goooooooo. Also since Mother's Day is on its way it's kinda themed that way. Go hug ur moms okay? Or go hug the people that matter to you if you can't or don't want to :p 

By the way, there's mentions of death so... beware? 

——

"Keith, don't push yourself too hard." You called from the side of the training room with worry. That boy kept upping the fighting level of the training bot. He hadn't eaten breakfast yet, he hadn't had any water, and he went to bed late last night. It was just a disaster waiting to happen. 

  Keith wiped the sweat off his forehead and readjusted his grip on his sword. "I'm fine." He ran at the bot again. 

  You bit at your nails nervously. "You want to take a break? I can make you a snack or something. You should really eat or take a nap..." 

"I said I'm fine!" He yelled as the bot swiped at him. "You're distracting me! Just go!" 

You swallowed your hurt. "Okay... let me know if you need-."

"Go!" 

——

"Hunk, that's dangerous!" You called up to the yellow paladin.

He was cooking in the kitchen and was trying to reach the bowl on the top shelf. Instead of grabbing a ladder he used a swivel chair. 

"I got it!" He yelled down to you. 

You knitted your eyebrows together. "You sure? I can grab a ladder... or I can get the bowl for you?" 

He could fall and hurt himself. 

He could break a bone.

He could get a concussion.

"Y/N, no offense, but I don't need your help, okay?" He informed you, stretching his hand out to grab the bowl. "I got it. I can do things myself, you know." 

"I know..." you trailed off, running closer to stabilize the chair he was standing on. "I just worry about you guys." 

  "Just stop, okay?" His fingers barely touched the rim of the bowl. "We don't need a mom." 

 His words ripped at your heart. So you let go. He was right. They didn't need a mom. You were just being a smothering worry wart. 

"Okay." You sighed, leaving the kitchen and casting one last glance at the disaster waiting to happen. "You're right! But if you need anything-."

  "Nope. I'm good."

——-

"Pidge, maybe you should put the computer away." You told the girl from your spot on the couch. "You've been on it all day."

She wasn't being very social. It couldn't be good for her. Maybe a little time away from it would be good for her.

  She snorted. "And do what?"

  You frowned at her. "I don't know, play a game? We could rope the other paladins into it." Your worry faded as your enthusiasm grew. "Maybe Allura and Coran have some Altman games we could try?" 

  "I doubt we'd understand it." Pidge shot that idea down immediately.

  You tensed a bit. "Okay... maybe we play an earth game!" 

  Pidge chuckled as she typed away at her computer. "What, like hide and seek?"

  "Yeah! The castle is big enough and maybe it'll lift everyone's spirits-!"

  "Sorry, but hide and seek is a bit childish." Pidge rolled her eyes before returning to her screen. "We're not little kids." 

  You clenched yourself fists a bit. "I know that, but-."

"Then act like it." 

You stood up awkwardly. "Okay... I'm sorry. I'll just... I'll just go."

Pidge said nothing as you left.

——

"Lance don't tamper with that!" You ran over to the boy messing with the gravity generator. "You don't want to break it!" 

  He rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna break it. Coran told me that it needed to be fixed, so I'm fixing it! You should be happy I was motivated to help for once!" 

 His humor didn't ease your nerves. If anything it made your worry more. 

"Do you know what you're doing?" You glanced over his shoulder. "You could get shocked or turn the gravity off!" 

 "It's fineee. Besides, Pidge told me how to fix it a little while ago." He shrugged and continued rewiring it. 

  You fidgeted a bit. "How long ago was that?" 

  Lance paused and thought a bit. "I don't know, maybe last month?"

  "Lance!" You groaned. "Why don't you at least go ask Pidge again? Or ask Hunk or Coran?" 

  "I got this! I know what I'm doing so just back off!" His playful attitude faded. "Just get off my back!" 

You bit your lip and nodded. "Okay... I'm sorry." 

  He glanced at you still watching him with worry. "I mean like... right now."

  "Oh. Right." You sighed and walked down the hallway.

——-

You bit at your nails as you tried to wrap your mind around what you should do. These kids needed someone to look out for them, but how could you do that without smothering them? Maybe not jump into the problem right away? Would that work? Would they still get upset? 

You walked by the lounge door and stopped when you heard a conversation on the other side. Maybe you should join them! Test out your idea. Just relax. Show them you wouldn't smother them. 

You took in a breath and went to open the door. 

The words you heard inside stopped you. 

"Ugh, she's been breathing down my neck since we first got to the castle!" Pidge complained. 

"She has been a bit... much." Hunk added. "It's hard to relax and cook when someone is constantly making sure you're not messing up." 

  "I know right?!" Lance jumped in quickly. "I was trying to fix something, and she just wouldn't stop pestering me!" 

  "She also distracted me when I was training this morning." Keith muttered. "I feel like I don't get enough space." 

  "If you want space, just look out the window." Lance chuckled. "Plenty of space out there." 

  "Shut up!"

  "Ow! Don't hit me!" 

You shoved down the immediate response you got of trying to break up their fight. They didn't want that. Or you. At all. 

 "Yesterday, she even tried to tell Allura she needed to rest." Pidge added. "Something about how she needed her energy or whatever. Allura's the princess! And an alien! She doesn't need someone to boss her around. Especially someone who doesn't even pilot a lion!"

Bossy. 

Nosey. 

Smothering.

Annoying.

Useless.

  That's what they really thought. 

  You turned away from the door, face growing warm and tears threatening to fall. 

You could change. 

You could stay away. 

Maybe you could just... not try to see when they needed help.

Avoid the situation entirely.

Then you wouldn't feel the need to be like that. 

   You swiped the tears from your eyes. 

  "Hey, are you okay?" A voice asked from behind you. 

 You jumped and turned around quickly. 

"Oh," you sighed in relief when you saw your best friend, Shiro. You'd trained with him in the Garrison and even worked with him as a teacher. "Hey Shiro." You wiped the remaining tears away. "What up?" 

  He frowned and walked closer. "Nothing... just a bit concerned I guess. Have... have you been crying?" 

  You shook your head quickly. "No! No I haven't. I'm good." 

  He chuckled lightly. "You know, lying isn't very effective when there's evidence." 

  You laughed to. "Yeah, I guess that's right." 

  "I just wanted to check on you... cause I know the anniversary of... you know...." he rubbed the back of his head nervously. 

  "Yeah." You looked to the ground. "It's coming up." Your heart jumped a bit at the thought. It'd already been two years since that day. Your tears began to fall a little faster.

Shiro frowned. "I just wanted to let you know that we're here for you, okay?" 

You nodded. "Yeah, definitely." 

He rubbed your shoulder a bit. "I know I wasn't close with him, but it hurts me to... even though I only met him a couple times." 

  You smiled softly. "He still adored you. He thought you were the coolest thing Dino nuggets. He tried to convince me to let him cut his hair like yours, and I nearly had a heart attack when I caught him trying to take apart my car engine to follow you into space." 

You both shared a fond laugh.

  "Well, just let me know if you need anything, yeah?" He grinned. "I'll be in the lounge." 

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm just gonna be in my room." You gestured to the hallway.

 "I'll tell the paladins you say hi." 

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

Hello! I just want to say I absolutely love your writing and your work and I am so glad I found your blog! I wanted to see if I could request like a mini fic if at all possible because you are honestly one of the few people who manage to capture Wrenche's personality perfectly? I'm having a lot of issues with depression today and it's particularly bad and I was wondering what a goofy adorable Wrench might do to try and cheer someone up?

Anon, I’m sorry to hear you’re having a rough patch. I’m glad I can provide something nice for you to read in the hopes it makes you feel a bit better. Thank you for your wonderful compliments! I have a larger Wrench fic in the works, but hopefully, this will work for now.

I have also posted this on AO3 for an easier read. LINK

Something was up. You only know that because the garage has been quiet for the past hour. At first, you hadn’t realized what that tickle in the back of your head had been, but you realize now that it’s the lack of power tools and robotic sounding ‘fucks’ coming from Wrench’s ‘special’ corner that troubles you. When that particular black cloud decided to hang over your head - which happened at random, lasting however long it wanted - you rarely paid much attention to the outside world. The fact that Wrench’s garage is dead silent, and that you noticed it at all, could only mean he’d stepped out when you weren’t looking or… more realistically, that a bomb was about to go off.

From behind your shoulder, you peer across the bright, dusty expanse of the hangar, spotting Josh’s green hooded-back, researching HaDoCk’s latest batch of emails in his own quiet way. You blink with a slow measure of bleakness, exhaling darkly against the blanket you had draped over your head for the past twenty-four hours. Saftey; you think morosely. The scratchy weight of the fabric doesn’t really help, but you feel a little less like falling into the floor with it blocking out the world around you.

Same principle as hiding under the blankets to escape the monster when you were a kid. The monster was gonna eat you if it wanted, and even as a kid you knew that, but you still hid under the covers anyway. Looking out across the messy garage, you realize why you were more able to keep your chin up in this corner than if you’d been camped out on the hood of the old caddy - the place was pure chaos. Like a grenade went off in here, you think, frowning.

It was Wrench’s garage after all. Maybe a grenade had gone off at some point.

Fuck it… you think, twisting back towards your computer screen with a loud, metal screech. You don’t startle, just wheeze at the animated sight before you - spikes, leather and mischief. There, sitting cross-legged on the desk is Wrench; emotes of double carets staring at you and one of those party crackers in his hands.

Please… no….

“Congratulations!” He exclaims, pushing on the plunger, showering you in confetti and cheap paper streamers. For a second, emotion flickers in your chest, but it’s definitely not the type meant to be in response to party favors. In a deep, mocking announcer voice, he continues, “What has she won Jimmy?! What’s that? Is it - it’s a neeeewwww… no, it’s not new, but it is handsome if not a little rough around the edges.”

Wrench gives you a tilde-caret wink as the last of the party fodder drifts down around you. Your heart flutters just enough to tell you you’re not completely dead inside, but your lips just don’t care to twitch, let alone smile. Poised there, on your desk, Wrench leans forward as if waiting for the laughter you must surely be about to rip.

With a heavy breath, you blink and part your lips, demanding, “What?”

Even to you, the question sounds dead. Not even your prescribed medication, meant for moments like this, have helped any. If Wrench wants some attention, then he’s better off finding it anywhere but here. You’ll only disappoint him and that, you’ve come to realize, is not something you want to do. Wrench won’t help, just like the pills haven’t helped and if anything, his little attempt at cheering you up just annoys you.

In all honesty, these past few days of feeling empty nearly allows you some perverse enjoyment in being frustrated by him. It’s something at least, though it sucks about as much as that raw, hungry sensation in your core.

Wrench clears his throat, double carets flattening out into underscores before he - inelegantly - reaches forward to sweep the confetti and crap off your blanket-covered shoulders. You side-eye his hand, watching the bones and veins flutter underneath his incognito dude tattoo.

“Well, I’ve done all I can. Time to take you out to pasture,” he tells you, voice chipper but hesitant as he flicks a bit of paper off the top of your head. Double x’s pop up and with a short huff of laughter, he kicks a foot up on the edge of the desk, throwing an arm over his knee before finishing with, “I bought a dozen donuts as a backup plan, you know… in case I had to raise this situation to a DEFCON two.”

As if to clarify he adds, “I’m not going to put you down… just FYI.”

Most of that passes through one ear and out the other. A voice in the back of your head whispers that whatever Wrench is doing is meant to make you feel better, but it’s not worth it. You sigh, billow out your blanket of shiny crap, rearrange it over your forehead and huddle back into code-compiling mode.

Left without a response Wrench twitches, shifting on the desk; legs collapsing over the edge. His ankles swing back and forth. He hums off-key, eventually whistling something that sounds like ‘It’s a Small World’  until you send a pointed glare his way.

Instead of leaving you alone to wallow in misery, his mask blinks double carets, “I know what you need!”

In a short second - so fast the computer screen shakes - he’s off the desk and darting away like a fucking felon, but he’s gone and that deflated part of you that was trying to be social sighs in relief, settling back into a dark pit; making itself scarce once again. Some part of you appreciates the effort, but a greater part of you doesn’t care at all about Wrench trying to ‘cheer’ you up.

He comes back five minutes later with a cardboard box in his hands. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he crawls up over the desk, knocking over a speaker.

“Oo, sorry,” Wrench mumbles, sounding… a little cute, but mostly you exhale, realizing he doesn’t sound like much of anything. He leaves black scuff marks as he skids up, standing on the desk with only a slight wobble. Your fingers pause, hovering over the shift key as he steps over the screen, legs spread with one foot on either side of the keyboard. Gently, Wrench lowers the cardboard box over the monitor with double zero’s and x’s flipping back and forth over his mask.

You blink slowly, watching him crouch behind the monitor, knees on either side of the cardboard box that happily reads, ‘SuNshiNE & PiZZa.’

“My treat, but if we don’t get pineapple on half, I’ll leave your ass at the Pier.”

It takes a lot of effort, but you manage a weak, “…not hungry.”

If you were capable of feeling any worse, you’d feel shitty for the dejected way Wrench plucks his custom made monitor cover off the screen, shuffles his way off your desk and accidentally kicks over the speaker for a second time, before hopping out of sight.

Two more times he shows up - once with a dirty apron on, holding a car jack like a dog while spouting off hammed up lines from ‘Silence of the Lambs.’ The second attempt at cheering you up ends with fire. You’re not sure how he manages to set the cement floor on fire, but it’s only sorta, not really amusing to watch him out the corner of your eye as he stomps out flames with ‘Come Sail Away’ on full blast behind him.

After the smell of burning rubber fades away and the garage is silent once again, you decide it’s safe to say Wrench has finally given up.

For ten solid minutes, you’re left alone… or maybe the time on the computer is off, and it’s been four hours. It feels like it’s been forever when the reassuring keys under your fingers rip away - someone is dragging you by the back of your chair. The computer screen grows smaller and smaller and stagnant air ripples the edges of your safety blanket. Without reason, a blush rushes into your cheeks as Wrench’s mask slips close against the back of your neck. You can hear his static-laced breath beyond the thick blanket as he drags you and your chair across the garage.

Fingers white on the armrest and knees tucked up; you hold on with muted surprise as Wrench spins you around. Your world swirls like a bad drunken night for a few seconds before he halts your chair; your body jerking at the sudden stop.

Laid out in front of you is his table saw, cleared of all the metal dust and plastic chips. For a moment it almost looks like he’s scrubbed it down, but you blink at the telltale smudge of oil and feel your eyebrows pinch.

“Voila! Welcome to Casa de Wrench,” the forced French accent doesn’t work when filtered through his mask. He sounds like if HAL and Mario had a baby… wait Mario was Italian… ugh, you can feel your brain literally sigh as a tattooed hand, sporting rubber black bracelets, starts waving across the ‘spread.’

“We’ve got these round things with sugar. These - these are… also round, but! - these are fitted with the choicest of dulce and sprinkles. Just imagine the poor unicorn that had to cry those things out for you.”

It’s nice - it really is but-

“I also got you a black coffee with two sugars and a shot of battery acid,” he rants off, so quick and… awkward that it actually throws you for a loop. With a curious expression, you peer up at him past the drape of the simple checker-print blanket and find him looking down at you with running ellipsis.

Say something; you’re more apt mind whispers.

With a frown, you look back at the mess of donuts - most of them crushed as if Wrench had accidentally sat on the box at some point - and the extra large paper cup of coffee.

There’s a little plastic seal sitting off to the side… you note that it’s been placed further away as if Wrench hadn’t wanted to make the little extra addition as obvious as the donuts and coffee.

Coffee and donuts were easy to pass off as a friend looking out for another friend, but a little trinket like that? With a careful hand, you reach out, crossing the spectacle of sugar and caffeine to pluck up the plastic seal. It’s cheap - one of the gimmicky things those t-shirt vendors by the waterfronts sell to tourists, but… it tickles your chest; makes you feel just a little bit lighter, and while you can just barely hear Wrench mumble excuses for the gift, your lips twitch upwards.

Beside you, Wrench goes quiet.

For the first time today, you slip the weight of your blanket off your head and smile. The gesture doesn’t even feel forced - it doesn’t hurt to make, and the soft sound of Wrench’s exhale only makes the faint smile curl further. There’s still a pit in your stomach - a heaviness weighing you down, but it doesn’t feel as dark. Even the world seems a little less gray and pallid.

When you turn towards him, he’s leaning back with two thumbs up, swaying them to and fro in a silent question. Better or worse?

“…better,” you whisper, eyes crinkling with a little wave of contentment.

Your weak response literally causes Wrench to jump for joy, arms in the air, releasing a loud ‘whoop’ of noise.

“Fucking awesome!” he shouts, turning at the waist just to throw a finger at Josh across the garage, who’s staring blankly at the two of you, “Fucking told you I had the magic touch.”

“I,” Wrench inhales dramatically, “am The Whisperer.”

“Usually that term is meant to follow a noun, also acting as an adjective-” Josh interjects.

Beside you, Wrench’s mask drops into underscores, followed by inward arrows of frustration, “Oh my god, shut’the’fuck’up. It’s an overall term.”

To demonstrate said ‘overall’ term, Wrench caresses the air into a circle, spiked shoulders hunched forward. It’s serious and yet not - much like Wrench’s personality is. He’s always full of piss and vinegar - rainbows and dynamite. It’s infectious.

An amused sound trickles into your ears as Wrench mimes his ‘overall term’ while Josh grimaces. It isn’t until Wrench is looking at you with question marks and Josh is staring wide-eyed that you realized you’d laughed. Giggles bubble up under your oversized hoodie, and they only rise into fits of laughter as Wrench’s fist pumps the air, whispering about how majestic he is.

By the time your throat is raw - breathless with laughter - it feels like all that black tar settled in your gut is gone. You shift in your chair, smiling, feeling ten times lighter with the little toy seal gripped in your hands. Colors come back - the world brimming with crisp edges and glitter. The tuned down thrashcore in the corner filters into your ears and as if on cue, your stomach grumbles.

When was the last time you’d eaten? Yesterday morning, maybe.

Only slightly oblivious to Wrench watching you eat - hiding the heart emotes under his hoodie - you take a sip of perfect, hot coffee and ready your tongue for a round hollow disk of deliciousness.

Wrench, you decide, is a fucking national treasure.