#well i'm gonna spread those out over the next year and a half...and probably pick up an extra elective here or there while i can

[supercantaloupe]

apparently i'm already halfway done my musicology degree??

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

pairings: Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Mammon x Fem!Reader, Leviathan x Fem!Reader

warnings: tw abandonment (but it turns out okay, I promise), mentions of the act of birthing,

A/N: you came to the right place! as the second oldest of six children, I have some experience when it comes to pregnancy:) I hope you don't mind, nonny, but I'm gonna split this up into a few parts so I can do the dateables as well!

Lucifer

The moment you had shyly produced the positive pregnancy test from the pocket of your hoodie, it felt like Lucifer had entered into a fever dream filled with nursery designs, baby names, the expenses that pile up before the baby even arrives, researching human pregnancy, keeping you out of harm's way and healthy and happy...

So when you first stagger out of bed and rush to his bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth and one shaky hand on your slightly swollen tummy, Lucifer isn't surprised

He is very concerned, however. You had been so nervous to tell him of your pregnancy, you waited until the last moment before your bump was noticeable to tell him

That meant you had been suffering from all of these pregnancy side effects before he'd permanently moved you to sleep in his room

Lucifer hoists himself out of bed and pads into the bathroom, gathering up your hair, if any, into his fist and pulling your hunched form between his legs for support

You hate this feeling with a passion; throbbing stomach and a lump in your throat with little to no vertigo and tears rolling down your face as you try and catch your breath

You tell him it hurts, you ask him if he can take the pain away as your head rests on his chest, lashes fluttering with wooziness

Lightheadedness was unbearably common; you would suddenly grip his sleeve and he could watch the color drain from your face and your knees get shaky, body beginning to sway

He always catches you though, finding a place for you to sit or lie down and gather yourself

Tummy rubs become more common; the feeling of his hands against your bare tummy, spreading their warmth and nullifying the ache, allowing you to relax

He's extremely attentive as well and can tell whenever you need something

Water? Here's a cup sweetheart, remember, you're hydrating and eating for two people!

Craving something? Chocolate? Fried pickles? Chips of some kind? sweets? He's stockpiled anything you could want and locked it away just for you.

I feel like Lucifer would want your baby to be a little girl. A little princess he can carry on his shoulders and spoil with his love and gifts.

Satan ruined him for having another baby boy, but if that's how the cards fall, he certainly wouldn't mind. Unfortunately, he'd be constantly walking on eggshells, afraid he'll make your little boy into another rebellious child

That's the last thing he wants

Lucifer does his best to keep his kid away from Satan and Belphie and out of the 'Formerly Anti-Lucifer League', but sometimes you're taking a nap or out shopping with Asmodeus, and Satan and his brothers manage to coerce the little one into their shenanigans

One thing is for sure though, even if Lucifer didn't want any kids and the creation of one was unplanned, he would never ever turn you away

He's very responsible and does anything in his power to make the pregnancy as easy and happy as possible

On the day you are to give birth, he's a mess

He has already sweat through 3 shirts by the time the IV has been secured to your hand

Everything he says doesn't come without a stutter

He's squeezing your hand and kissing your hair during labor, trying to distract you from the burn between your legs as much as he can

You probably need extra stitches from baby's horns ngl

Definitely cries before the baby is even put in your arms

Refuses to let his brothers come and see you, "They can wait until we go home."

Lucifer is Smitten™

He smooches the tiredness under your eyes and tells you to get some rest

Surprisingly, he enjoys a lot of the names from the human world you discuss and will most likely pick one of those

But if it's a girl, her name is Lilith. I'm sorry MC, your input is invalid at this time

You don't regret 'final day in the devildom sex' at all when you get to witness the Avatar of Pride reduced to tears when the nurse puts the child in his arms

P-P-Pregnant? MC, ya better be jokin'...

Mammon

You weren't, judging by the pregnancy test(s) clutched in your fist

He's not mad at you, he's not upset, (in fact, he's the happiest he's ever been), he just scared

Broken Condom Victim™

He loved you just a bit too hard last week...

but let's be real here, HIS MC, carrying HIS baby?

That's like the highest level of ownership on his lovely human you could get! Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lucifer, everyone would be SOOOO JEALOUS!!!

AND

He gets to have a little one running around again!

You saw how sweet he was to babified Satan in the obey me anime premier! He LOVES little kids and nothing would make him happier than someone to play with (besides MC of course) that wouldn't make fun of him for messing up and being silly!

AND

You're so pretty!!

I mean, ya were always pretty, but somethin' about ya is different and yer even more beautiful than before somehow!

Mammon said, his entire face the shade of a pomegranate

Pregnancy glow is REAL

Asmo agrees, after stealing you away from an extremely overprotective mammon and hiding in the attic to chat without disturbance (mammon)

But as much as YOU know he would be the BEST father, comments from his brothers continue to drag him down and the evenings he cried into your shoulder became more and more frequent as your pregnancy progresses

Mammon, as we all know, is, in fact, a tiddy man

He likes to touch and squeeze them, and just gently hold them while cuddling or even browsing in a store, he'd just come up behind you and touch your boobs

(also, mammon likes all sizes, so if you have next to no tiddy like me, you'll be at his mercy as well. those with the large honkers, however, watch yourself)

Now that there's a miracle growing in your tummy, other parts of your body are preparing for its arrival, including your chest

Swelling, swelling, soreness, growing and darkening of the nipples, and swelling make it so Mammon can no longer touch your pretty tiddies :(((

(grammarly didn't like that word)

On the day mammon snack size was to be born, mammon is silent but extremely fidgety

It was early in the morning when you'd shaken him awake like, "mammoney, I'm going into labor" and he was out of bed and out the door with your luggage before you finished blinking

After grabbing your DDD's and you, he carries you down to the car (what dysfunctional family doesn't have a car? a nice one (Mercedes, Audi, you get the idea) for lucifer and a Volkswagon bus or something for his siblings to share) and drives quickly, but very carefully drives to the hospital, holding your hand the whole way.

He covers your eyes when they put the IV in, just in case you're squeamish, and rubs your arms as the drugs begin to take effect and there's a little fear in your eyes at the thought of pushing an entire human/demon being out of your coochie

He assures you and never lets go of your hand no matter how long you're in labor

When it's all over with and you are resting in your hospital bed waiting for the doctors to finish the Apgar tests and give you your baby

Mammon is speechless as the nurse places the baby in your arms

That's HIS KID!!

Immediately starts crying

The little horns poking out of the blanket? Those look just like his!!

Judging by the bit of hair on it's head, it looks like the baby will have hair like yours

If it's a baby boy, he thinks it should be named "Mammon II" but you just giggle and remind him of the deal he made with lucifer long ago, that his first born child, no matter the gender, had to have 'Lucifer' somewhere in their name

Human names are dumb, except for yours of course, so he searches for suitable demon names

The last thing he wants is a kid named Lucifer, so that will be the kid's middle name

He really regrets his past decisions now

Leviathan

"Levi?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

*leviathan has been KO'd*

No joke, this man is literally floored and didn't wake up for a while and you were afraid you had just slain the fucking Lord of Shadows

Some Henry you were

You had to call Lucifer in to wake him up because he was still flat on the floor a half and hour later

Mammon is more that happy to tip a bucket of ice water on the face of the son of a bitch that impregnated HIS MC

Levi wakes up and pounces on you, gripping you tightly by the arms

"You're k-kidding r-right?"

Him? A father?

Uhhhhhhh

Unfortunately, Leviathan.exe has stopped working, try again in two thousand years

I hate to say this, but he definitely detaches himself for a while until his brothers, especially Asmodeus, literally beat him into shape

He comes back to you, a little bruised and sobbing, but not from the beating he just received

He's so sorry he neglected you! He's such a horrible demon, undeserving of your welcoming nature

He's gonna be the worst dad, and he's not good enough for you, and his kid will hate him just like everyone else does, he doesn't deserve you, he's so sorry for making you suffer the side effects and feel all alone,

Sir, I-

FALSE

It's your turn to shake some sense into him, reminding him that he would be the. best. dad!!

Not to mention the fact that you were just happy he realized his mistakes and came back to you

He begs you to sleep in his bed tub with him for security, and you have to admit his tail is very comforting

Levi does extensive research on human pregnancy and now at the dinner table, instead of talking about the latest slice of life anime he'd been watching, he's just spouting random pregnancy facts and you're laughing so hard it brings you to tears

When the weird dreams and vivid nightmares happen, Levi is right behind you, rubbing your swollen tummy, and letting you talk about them

A lot of them were about him and about your future child

Most of them were about how they got hurt in some way, either that or YOU got hurt and the baby died

These, more often than not, brought you to tears and stress you out, but Levi is right there, okay? Nothing can hurt you, nor would he let anything happen to you on his watch

Learns how to massage you (safely) to reduce stress

Definitely talks to the baby a lot

Levi begged you to be induced so the birth was safe and not a sudden occasion and you agree

On the day the doctor recommended, you arrived at the hospital and got down to business

Levi didn't really want to be in the room with you, but he knew he had to for your sake and he'd played a few birth simulators from both perspectives and you really needed him

Kinda sits there awkwardly comforting you and encouraging you, holding your hand and caressing your cheeks, a bit flushed from exertion and tears

Listen

If the baby is a boy, his name will be Henry and that's final

If it's a girl, he doesn't really care, as long as you don't name her 'mammonia' or something dumb like that

definitely crashes your hospital bed to snuggle until the baby is ready

cries when the baby wraps its extremely small digits around one of his own

also at the little horns protruding from its head

and the tuft of purple in its head

Also Smitten™

He's so excited to get home and show off his beautiful baby to his brothers and then formulate a plan to raise the kid to live and breathe TSL just like his daddy <3

--

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[loversandantiheroes]

I cannot paste so many words: But I wanted the DVD commentary on the part in Hotel Hobbies where Whiskey stands in the doorway and admires her in the bed >> The door opens and Whiskey stands there for a moment, an outline in black against the lit hallway. A disheveled version of those black painted plywood silhouettes that always seem to lean up against flea markets and roadside stands in the middle of nowhere. His face is shadowed, but you can feel his eyes on you. >>>> THIS explain yourself

I mean what can I say? I'm a slut for love at first bone.

Wait, no, okay, let's be more objective.

I think I've mentioned before that Hotel Hobbies wasn't meant to be a series. This was gonna be just a little one-off (well, two-off considering the prelude) where Whiskey got his dick handed to him like he very much deserved. But the very first comment I got on AO3 was something about how Whiskey probably got his own back the next night, and that set the wheels turning in my head. I'd already considered doing a very self-indulgent fic with Whiskey meeting the reader at the bar and bonding a bit over shared losses and bad anniversaries, and I think this where the first of that idea started to bleed over into this fic.

'Cause the thing is I feel like Whiskey's clearly set up to be the quintessential ladykiller, but not the sort that's leaving a string of broken hearts. He's just looking to scratch an itch and I think he's pretty clear on that most times. All's fair, as long as nobody gets hurt. He'll talk a big game, sure, but he won't string anybody along because he's never looking for a repeat.

But then he meets this girl who just knocks him on his ass and he's asking for seconds before he even remembers what his name is. I danced around the idea of showing this moment from Whiskey's perspective in chapter 3, which I ultimately panned, apart from a very small nod to it when he's accidentally eavesdropping.

The reasoning being he's gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing in some of the worst possible ways, so the second he stops, looking back at the women that wrecked him spread out naked and half-asleep in a rumpled bed - the bed where he'd just caught some of the soundest sleep he's had in years lying next to her - he's absolutely caught. He wants a next time. He wants a dozen next times. Hell, he wants to call Ginger and tell her to send somebody else to pick up his light work because he's got better things to do and she's right there lying in front of him without a stitch on and he does not want to leave.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Whoever Broke Your Heart

George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating. Guy who doesn't understand the word "no". Teeny Tiny bit of Swearing.

Opening a Joke Shop was the best idea Fred and George ever had. It's what they were meant to do. What made them happier than one would think possible. At least that's what George had been trying to convince himself for the past few hours.

To tell the truth, this past week had been the most stressful so far, and they worked through the beginning of a war!

But now that that was over and Diagon Alley, like everywhere, was beginning to return to the new normal, the Twins had been flat out. Kids were preparing for the school year and in addition to their shop being near capacity every single day, mail orders were through the roof. It'd been like this for the past 3 weeks, but this week...This week could not possibly get any worse!

Between the eight new complaints from angry family members after falling victim to one of their products. To the three ruined displays after a customer 'accidentally' set off one of the boys 'Crazy Creatures' feature Fireworks which sparked a Lion to pounce throughout the store, until the Twins got it under control, it had managed to take out it's fair share of shelving and they had to close the store for a little over an hour to clean up. On the brightside they sold twelve of those that day after everyone saw it in action. Now, however, there weren't enough fireworks in the store to distract George from the mountain of paper work he'd been ignoring. Or from the fact he still couldn't get his latest invention to cooperate. He has completely HAD IT. In his opinion this week can well and truly go and get fuc-

"OI GEORGE! You're not still working in there are you!?" Fred called as he made his way to his brothers room.

Sure enough, there his Twin was. Slumped uncomfortably in his desk chair working reluctantly on the paperwork he'd neglected. With his head propped up by his palm he didn't even acknowledge his brothers entrance.

"For Merlin's sake, George. The stores closed mate, give yourself a break for a minute won't you?" Fred walked over to glance at the work spread haphazardly over the desk top.

"Later. I'm nearly done." George murmured.

"Bollocks you are." Fred replied lifting several order sheets from the pile to read through them. "You've been working non-stop lately, just let it slip for tonight, mate."

"I can't Fred!" He snapped in frustration. "We're so far behind it's ridiculous. I can't let it go because it needs to be done before open tomorrow!"

"We're not open tomorrow, George! It's Sunday!"

"What?" He looked up confusedly at his calender on the wall. "It's the 31st?"

"No." Fred dropped the papers in his hands and flipped the page of the calender, picking up a red marker which he used to circle the date. "It's the 5th, you numpty."

George threw his Quill onto the desk and pushed himself back into his chair, rubbing his eyes in frustration before running them through his hair with a groan. He had a whole day to get this done tomorrow. But here he was rushing through it like last minute revision before an exam because he can't keep track of what day it is. He relaxed at the thought of more time. Fred patted his shoulder with a slight chuckle, noticing much of the tension he'd been harbouring melt away.

"Worried for nothing" he joked. George looked up at him with a glare. Freds face dropped slightly, seeing the bloodshot whites of his Twins eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Bloody hell...you really need a night out of here."

George stood to stretch his aching back and sighed satisfactorily as it cracked in several places. "Yeah. Maybe I do" he spoke honestly.

"Tell ya what, Georgie. I was gonna continue work on that Dragons Breath Candy of yours tonight anyway so" he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of coins counting quickly, "here's twenty galleons. Get out."

George tilted his head in question.

"Go eat, or drink, whatever. Just get out."

George wasn't feeling particularly energetic for a night out and opened his mouth to protest, but Fred was having none of it.

"UH! No. Take a shower, cause you reek. Then leave and I don't won't you back till you're truly hammered. Hear me?"

His brother smiled half-heartedly and sent up a mock salute with a playfully stern expression.

Feeling far more refreshed than he had 20 minutes ago thanks to a good hot shower, George readdied himself to leave, grabbing his keys then quickly apparating to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. True, it wasn't a particularly long walk but honestly...he just couldn't be bothered.

The Pub was decently full but given the fact it was barely past eight on a Saturday night, one would actually consider it quite empty.

Shuffling past the groups of people drinking and talking throughout the room he quickly made his way to the bar. He stood to the right of what appeared to be a couple, leaning his body against the counter as he ordered a Fire Whiskey. He pulled a vacant stool toward himself to sit down as he paid for his drink. He simply sat, contently sipping his beverage, listening to the music as he felt himself relax considerably finally having time away from the stress of work. A few minutes passed before something to his left caught his attention. The couple he'd sat next to, or rather what he now gathered was an uncomfortable woman and some insufferable git who clearly didn't understand the word 'no'.

He was relentless in trying to persuade the woman to join him for a dance...then a drink...then how bout a date...then a-OKAY! George had heard enough.

"Oi, mate." He shouted slightly to be heard over the noise of the room, he tapped the man's shoulder to make it clear he was the one he was talking to. He turned slowly with a sour look of disgust at the interruption. "Give it a rest won't you? She's clearly not interested."

The girl shifted slightly in her chair, distancing herself from the man who refused to leave her alone. She clutched her drink within her hands tightly, trying to appear invisible one would assume.

"You with her are you?" The man spoke as he turned his body to face George, eyeing him with a rude expression.

"No."

"Then sod off. You're not one to know what she wants."

"Given the 8 times she's told you 'no' in the past 5 minutes I'd say I know exactly what she wants. For you to leave her alone."

The girl couldn't help but smile slightly at the redheads boldness of words. The man on the other hand was quickly becoming agitated. He straightened himself and took a menacing step forward, nostrils flaring. George didn't budge. Unphased by the man's movements, he simply sipped his drink with a deadpan expression.

"You tryna spark a problem, buddy?"

"Merely attempting to resolve one." George spoke smoothly.

"I don't see one here needing your help." He hissed.

"That'd be because you're it. So unless you'd like me to conjure you a mirror I'm afraid you'll remain quite blind." He took another sip of his drink. "The girls not interested. Leave her alone."

"Oh she looks plenty interested to me" the angry man spoke "just playing hard to get" he smirked stepping back a pace and wrapping his arm around the woman's side. George noticed her cringe at the contact moving away from him in her seat.

George placed his drink on the counter and stood slowly. His movements making the man drop his arm and puff his chest to appear bigger than he was. Stares never leaving one another as the redhead turned his body to face the arrogant man, looking down on him as if he were something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. Towering in comparison, a good head taller than he was caused a flash of unease to spead across the face of the offender. Evidently he had not realised the full size of the man infront of him while he was seated.

"Leave." George spoke in a deep and threatening voice. Eyes like daggers peircing all confidence the man before him previously held.

In an attempt to gain some composure and try not appear to be fleeing the git scoffed. Throwing a lame insult at the two of them before grabbing his drink and sulking away into the small crowd. George stood in place like a statue until the man had disappeared from sight completely. Posture and expression immediately softening as he turned back to the woman by the bar "are you alright?".

"Fine. Thank you." She spoke swiftly. Not turning to face him clearly wanting to be left alone as her body was still stiff and rigid. George looked at her unsure of what to say. "Do you need anything?".

"No. I'm fine. And I'd appreciate being left alone." She snapped turning her head ever slightly toward him as she did so. He tried to not take it personally as he noted the emotion held in her eyes and the slight tremble in her lips. The way she sat as if trying to restrain herself from something. Her drink, obviously bought long ago as the ice had all melted and the condensation had formed a large ring around the base of her glass. She'd probably been here long before that tosser showed up.

George sat, facing back to his glass not wanting to disturb her any further. She was beautiful he thought, and had the circumstances been different he probably would have been tempted to buy her a drink. But he knew now definitely wasn't the time, even if he just couldn't shake the feeling he needed to say something.

He eyed her curiously and cautiously, not wanting to appear as another weirdo incapable of understanding boundaries. Watching her stare sorrowfully at a Golden Diamond ring she fiddled with in her hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. It all made sense now. He raised his drink slowly to his lips, looking forward.

"Whoever broke your heart, must have been crazy."

She turned to him instantly, a very confused expression on her face as she watched him toss his head back to finish his drink. He signalled to the bartender for another before turning his head to look at her.

Mouth agape slightly as she furrowed her brows at him. He couldn't help the smile that came at her reaction, he nodded toward the ring in her hands.

"Engagement ring, is it not?" He reached for his new drink without taking his eyes off her. She stared at it for a moment before answering solemnly. "It was."

She bit her lip while turning the ring over on her finger tips, as if unsure whether or not to continue. George reminded silent, not wanting to force anything from her she wasn't comfortable with. "I caught him cheating little over a week ago."

"He's a git." He said abruptly taking a mouthful of whiskey. The girl laughed at this turning to look at him.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm certain."

"You don't even know his name"

"No, but I've got a couple for him."

She laughed loudly this time, having to look away from him to compose herself. George could have listened to that laugh all night, he was suddenly very thankful for Fred all but pushing him out of the flat earlier.

When she turned back to face him her cheeks were burning pink and she'd bit her lip slightly. He was taken by her completely. Which is stupid, he thought, because he doesn't even know her name. Shit. He doesn't know her name!

"I'm George, by the way" he reached his arm out to her.

"[Y/N]" she smiled taking his hand.

"Can I buy you a fresh drink?" He nodded toward the warm, flat beverage sat infront of her.

Hesitating slightly she stared into his eyes before nodding with a sincere smile.

They spoke for ages about Everything. Nothing. Hell anything that came up. He couldn't work out how someone could possibly have said goodbye to a girl like her. Nobody in their right mind could. He was smitten, with all of her. The way she smiled. Her laugh. They way she bit her lip when she tried not to blush. The way she played with her hair. He was oblivious to everything in that pub except her. As she was with him.

That was until the distinct sound of her favourite song peirced her ears. She hadn't taken her eyes off him for more than a second since he bought her that first drink, and there'd been a lot since then. Suddenly she was looking over at the band in the corner, smiling.

"I love this song"

He didn't know why the idea came to him, probably from the overwhelming urge to touch her he's been resisting for so long. To hold her. Kiss her. Guess this works as well...

He stood, finishing his drink in a single gulp and held his hand out for her. "Come on."

"What?"

"We're going to dance" he grinned at her.

"Oh, no. I am a terrible dancer!"

"Same, love. No excuses." He winked at her taking her hand and pulled her up.

"One second" she pulled back a step but kept her hand in his. She turned to grab her mostly full drink, chugging it and placing the empty glass back against the rest, before turning her attention back to him.

George let out a haughty laugh at the action. Her grip on his tightened as she glared playfully at him, then taking the lead walked out onto the dance floor where he twirled her around and they danced next to one another not caring about how silly their moves must have looked as neither cared they couldn't dance.

They stayed out there the rest of the night, until the band announced their last songs were coming up. Slow songs. All couples on the floor began to move together. [Y/N] glanced around nervously before her eyes trailed back up to him, he was smiling down to her. Hand outstretched. She took it willingly and he pulled her into him where he began to sway.

"And you said you couldn't dance" she joked as she noticed he'd clearly done this before. He shrugged. "May have learned a move or two at school".

As the music went on the two of them only got closer, his arms wrapped around her as she lay against his chest. George let his chin gently rest on the top of her head, eyes closed enjoying the moment. It was perfect. Until, he felt a notable sigh leave her chest. Not at all content. It was sharp and she was obviously thinking about something she rather wouldn't be. He pulled back slightly to look down at her.

"Hey...what's up?"

"Sorry." She spoke to his chest "I didn't mean t-I just..." stumbling over her words she mentally kicked herself for ruining the moment. Taking a step back as she shook her head, she let go of him. George felt cold without her. "It's not you. I just-"

"You were thinking about him."

[Y/N] looked up at him with sad, apologetic eyes.

"It's okay, [Y/N/N]" he closed the space between them and ran his hand down her shoulders to her elbows. "I understand."

"It's just...all this...the slow dancing, the feelings I have right now..."she stopped herself, staring down at her shoes.

"Hey," he moved to cup her face in his hands. Bringing her face back up to look at him. His brows were furrowed and he had such a sincere look on his face [Y/N] could have melted right there. How could someone she only just met hold so much more love in his eyes toward her than her ex-fiancè ever did? "I like you." She spoke before he could. Georges eyes widened at the words, a smile began to creep on his face. Her hands came to rest on his arms as his hands fell to hold below her jaw. "I just...I don't know how you can be looking at me like that. When you barely know me, but then I was with-" "the git." She laughed at his interruption but still dropped her head to stare at the floor sadly "When I was with, the git, for 3 years and he never..."

"Listen to me." George ducked himself, as his finger tilted her chin up to look at him, "You deserve so much better than him. I don't have a clue how a prat like him managed to wrangle a winner like you but..." his eyes were flicking frantically between hers, desperate for the right words, "whoever couldn't see the girl that I see right now wasn't looking at you, love. If I know one thing is true...if you let me, if you give me the chance. I'll never be like whoever broke your heart."

Tears were forming in her eyes. Biting her lip as a smile began to form. She nodded slowly. Then quickly as she threw an arm over his shoulder and around his neck to pull him into a kiss, followed swiftly by the other. His hands fell to her waist. They felt perfect together. [Y/N] couldn't believe she'd nearly married some cheating git, when there was a man like this out there. A man so full of love, and compassion and pure joy he could light a dark room with nothing but his smile.

As the song that was playing slowly faded to an end the two finally parted lips, smiles so giddy they felt like Second Years again. She fell back into his chest as her arms came down to wrap around him, eyes closed listening to the sound of his heart beat and breathing as the bands last song began to play.

"I kinda wanna thank him." George spoke. She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed, utterly confused. He couldnt help but chuckle at the look she was giving him. "Well, if he didn't do what he did, you'd never have ended up here in my arms." He smirked causing [Y/N] to roll her eyes before pulling herself back into him. "That's so cheesey" he felt her laughter quiver through his chest. He kissed the top of her head. "Get used to it"

[huaxxian]

Stone Skipping || CH1 ; 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴

In the midst of their pleading, rickety lines overcame [name]'s vision. They were wild and quickly spread throughout the darkness that encased them, spreading hope within the depths of their heart. Light seeped through these cracks, and before they knew it..

The darkness was no more. 

First, it was their eye. Their actual sight had returned. From what [name] could tell, the stone pieces were cracking and surely falling off from their body. Then, they looked around the environment. Unlike only-Senku-knows-how-long ago, nature had completely taken over the area they were in. The plants were lush and green, the trees so tall that they practically reached the sky, the vines grew over and into anything they could grasp, there were no signs of buildings or any man-made structures. Instead, what greeted them besides green, green, and even more green, were two pairs of beady little eyes staring at their form, in what [name] could gather, to be perplexity. They were curious, but at the same time, were keeping their distance.

Monkeys, their mind helpfully supplied. Monkeys that have most likely never seen a human, or a bipedal for that matter, in what I could only assume to be a very long time. 

Deciding to move, they tried to wriggle their fingers, but to no use. It was still stuck, so they left it be for now. Instead, they inspected the pieces of stone gathering around their shoulders, and slowly but surely turned their head, accelerating the process. It's working. More pieces of stone fell from their head and hair, until finally, most of them had already fallen. [name]'s head and neck being free for the most part, they turned it to the side to look for any of her friends. 

Unfortunately, no one could be seen. 

[name] frowned. Not much better than being in that darkness. 

Alright, that's enough. I shouldn't stay stationary for too long. They fought against the restriction caused by the stone, successfully freeing their hands. Then, their arms followed, their upper half, and last but not least, their lower half. They slid down to the floor, sighing. The school uniform as well as the lab coat had completely disappeared from their body, leaving them open. [name] would be more embarrassed, if it weren't for the state of the world they were in.  It shouldn't matter as much as it did before

. 

Still, prioritizing clothes should be pretty high on the list. 

The teenager stood up, walking over to a patch of vines and leaves nearby. They took some and placed them on their body, acting as temporary clothes. It's been so long that their feet had been merged in the ground, and upon their movement, had left heavy footprints. 

Out of nowhere, the loud screeches of other monkeys echoed throughout the forest, making [name] look towards their general direction. The ones that were staring them down a while ago had ran away at the sound, returning the screeches. I should avoid that area, who knows what's there that made them run away in fear. Instead of going towards there, they chose to continue forward. Statues surrounded the teen from all sides, all varying in sizes. Adults and children, all frozen in the very same state they were in prior. Most look to be running away, or at the very least, must have been trying to before they got petrified. Several of them had missing body parts ranging from arms, to legs, to even pieces of their head. Their hands reached out, their expressions horrified, their mouths open to call for help.

But no one came. 

They stopped, head tilting to the side. To their left, they see a person sitting down on what it seems to be tree's huge roots. He was extremely muscular. His abs showed easily, and his whole body was buff. He leaned on his knees, while his long hair was left covering his expression. They weren't close enough to see the rest, but they didn't need to. They already knew who he was, after all.

Shishio Tsukasa, the strongest high school primate. 

Or at the least, that's who he was towards the others. 

However, to [surname] [name], he wasn't that. 

He was only the kind acquaintance who had helped the [hair color]-haired student during his spare time in the library. 

Taking note of the male's location in their head, they returned their gaze forward and journeyed once more. They passed by more statues, more broken pieces, more people frozen in time. More monkeys stayed in the trees and watched the teen carefully, not making any other move or noise. The only thing that [name] could pick up that had continued to change was the lessening of green. The plants, grass and trees were still abundant; however, as they moved further away from their origins, more land began to show itself compared to before.

The statues, just like her feet had been submerged in the dirt, had merged with the mountainside. 

Least to say, it wasn't a pleasant sight. [name] immediately frowned and looked away, not wanting to focus on them any more than they already have. 

Petite hands carefully pushed aside vines that had obstructed their vision, and lo and behold, the next scene made [name] smile and hold a chuckle to themselves.

"I'm going to build everything back up from zero.. A scientific civilization advanced enough to go back to space..!" 

There he was, the man of the hour, kneeling down on one knee. He held a stick in his right hand, and on his left, he held down a log. Like them. his body was covered by a patch of leaves and vines. It seems that they hadn't taken notice of them quite yet. They watched as he spun the stick against the log repeatedly, but to no result. 

Sen-chan's getting frustrated.. 

This time, they couldn't help the chuckle that escaped their lips. 

The sound immediately made Senku stop, and slowly, he turned around. His eyes widened, and the look of disbelief as well as the smallest relief in his red eyes was evident as he called out their name. They smiled at him softly, moving towards his side, just as they had done all those years ago, in the Science Clubroom.

"Sen-chan.. it's been a long while." 

Senku smirked in response, waving offhandedly. "Yeah. Now help me out, won't you?"

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The taller of the two slumped down to the ground, groans of exhaustion escaping his mouth. [nickname] and I alone can't manage this for very long. The brute strength moron Taiju could do this, and even the handicrafts club's ultra skillful Yuzuriha could manage this no problem. [nickname] probably could spark it up by twisting this stick too, but how am I gonna do it especially with this humid air?! He called for his friend, only to receive no response. Speaking of that shortie..

He looked around. All he did was slump down to rest, and the [hair color]-haired teen was already gone from his sight.��Where'd they go? 

Groaning once more, he moved to stand up, but was immediately pushed back down by familiar petite hands. "Rest, Sen-chan." [name] smiled, patting his head affectionately. "We can't have the scientist running out of fuel." Reluctantly, he did as they wished, watching as they sat down on the ground as well. They adjusted their position for a few moments, before bringing out.. a flower crown? 

Senku deadpanned, not able to hold back his grumpy retort. "Out of all the things you could have made, you made a flower crown. Really, [nickname]?" They laughed in response as they placed it on his head and fixing his hair. "I just wanted to know what your reaction was gonna be if I showed that first, Sen-chan. That's not just all I did, don't worry.." With a smile, [name] moved aside to show the objects sitting on the ground behind them, making Senku's smirk from earlier return.

Different kinds of rock have different uses. Chert is hard as hell, which makes it perfect for making a small knife out of. 

"Already way ahead of me, huh?" 

We'll investigate everything, and experiment with it all!

Taking the objects in his hold, he turned back to the teen. They stood, smiling and waiting for his next move. They were ahead of him, as if they shared the same brain he did. As if they were already connected to begin with. 

I don't have claws or fangs. All I have is my steady, straight-forward ingenuity and them.

[nickname], the jack of all trades, but master of none, my friend and assistant.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

"Will you do the honors?" 

Not bothering with a reply, [name] neared the log and with barely any difficult, twisted the stick quickly. Smoke began to appear, so they stopped, buried it into a pile of leaves, and blew, watching as the fire slowly but surely spread. Senku, with the use of the axe that the shorter had made, quickly cut down more pieces of wood, before adding them to the lit up pile. A grin spreading on his face, he stared it down along with the [hair color]-haired teen. 

There are a surprising number of animals that use tools. Crows, racoons, orangutans. But, of all species in this world.. there is only one that uses science! 

"Generating heat from the oxidation of gas released from cellulose. In other words.. combustion." 

[name]'s eyes stayed on the flames. The gradient colors sought their attention and refused to let it go from their grasp. It danced along with the calm whispers of the wind. Not turning their head, they spoke, "Sen-chan, you have a goal don't you?" For once, their voice had wavered, uncertainty seeping through. So much uncertainty that he couldn't help but detest the sound of it. 

It was strange and illogical, especially considering he had wanted an inkling of emotion to show through aside from just that dead smile. But now.. the sight was detestable. Nonchalantly, he faced them, turning his whole body. He picked at his ear using his pinky and replied, "Of course I do. I'm going to restore the civilization from before, and then I'll proceed with my end-goal."

The same smile appeared on their face.

Senku supposed it was better than hearing doubt and uncertainty. 

"I figured you'd say that." Turning their head, the small smile he had gotten used to.. was gone. 

Instead, what replaced is a genuine grin, full of hope, happiness, and whole-hearted belief. "I have no doubt that you'll reach that goal. No, I'll ensure it. Ishigami Senku will reach his goal, and I will utilize myself so." 

[name]'s whisper barely audible to his ears, but despite that, their voice and words echoed like a broken record throughout his head, unending. Yet, despite the determination and positivity it was supposed to bring, it brought a bit of the unexpected. His stomach did flips and flutters, dread and apprehension seeping in his bones.

 Stop wording it like that, he wanted to say. I don't like it.

He couldn't bring himself to do that, and instead, faked a grin in return.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Since then, the two had worked together for days on end. On the way, they had achieved not only clothing, but a decent settlement up on the tree. It wasn't anything fancy, however, it wasn't too shabby either. 

"Kukuku, the birth of every boy's dream treehouse! Now, we've finally collected all the necessities for survival." Senku spoke triumphantly, staring up at the building they had made. [name], a flower-crown adorning their head, adjusted their matching skirt from beside him, smiling. "Sen-chan did a good job.." 

He chuckled dryly, "You say that as if you didn't do half of the stuff we needed to do without me saying anything." His smirk was stripped from his face as he continued blankly, "Now then.. It's about time. My 'ignoring all fatigue would be most logical' switch is at its limit.." With that, he collapsed completely, expecting to land harshly on the ground, but was pleasantly surprised to land on [name]'s arms instead. They adjusted his body gently, making sure that he was comfortable as they smiled down at him, shaking their head in amusement. They pat their skirt before sitting down, relaxing.

Senku, too tired to complain, just let his body lay in their hold. Damn it, even with [nickname] here.. Just surviving is taking every ounce of energy out of me. Let alone time for science progress.. I can't just let them do all the work. They'll get burnt out too, as much as they try to hide it. His nose scrunched at the thought. That'd be a bad scenario. If worst comes to worst for me, at least [nickname] will be able to cover in my stead. But if it happens to them instead, I wouldn't be able to do the same. I'm lucky that they could even catch animals often while doing manual labor. 

If there was at least one more person.. someone with lots of physical strength and stamina. Someone who wasn't either of us.

"You know, Sen-chan, we both started from the area we got petrified in, right?" This time, [name]'s smile was knowing. "Perhaps we should pay Tai-chan a visit?" Senku smirked up at them for the nth time, "You just read my mind." They carefully pulled him up, dusting his shoulders and skirt as they did. 

A few minutes of walking later, they watched as Senku walked again towards the hand reaching out from the ground. He begins digging, making [name] follow suit. Slowly but surely, they uncovered the statue, revealing it to be Taiju. This was the very same expression he had three millennia ago when he had gotten petrified. [name] assumed that he was protecting Yuzuriha just as Senku had tried to, but got separated just as they had.

[eye color] eyes softened as they see the quick relieved expression that passed by his face.

He stared down at their friend in silence, smirking not too long after. "Kukuku," he snickered, "Now there's a face I was so sick of seeing, I never thought I'd want to see again." [name] shook their head in amusement. What a lie, Sen-chan. "It's been a good long 3,700 years, hasn't it, you big clumsy oaf?" 

Senku repeatedly tapped on the face of Taiju's statue, beaming innocently. "And now it's time for Senku's Investigation Lab to begin! C'mon, you oaf.. What's it gotta take to get you to revive like [name] and I did?" Wait.. speaking of [nickname], red eyes glanced over at the shorter's form, who merely sat on their knees, looking at the sky. I haven't asked for the details of their revival yet. 

Sensing the male's stare, [name] instantly turned their head to him and tilted their head. What is it? They seem to be asking. "About your revival.. I haven't asked about the details yet. Mind telling me?" Was it dark for you as it was for me? Were you keeping yourself conscious 24/7? I was holding on for my goal, but how about you..? What on Earth could have kept you going so much that you ended up going as far as to wait 3,700 years just as I had done? 

"It was dark." His eyes snapped back to their body, finding them to be looking at the sky once more. "I hated it there, because I was alone and it felt cold. I was really lonely." He wasn't usually keen on affection, but.. Senku couldn't help but feel sad, and gave their shoulder a pat. They didn't sound saddened, and somehow, that alone was enough to make him feel sympathy. [nickname].. Softer than he had intended, he asked again, "What kept you going?" 

The tiny frown and the smallest of shrugs is what he received, and the taller couldn't help but feel aghast. "I'm not sure. I just imagined seeing you guys on the other end of the road.. and somehow, that alone was enough. I knew you were going to be alive even back then, because that's just how Sen-chan is." Senku snickered, "You're not wrong there. Your assumption, as illogical as it would be for other people, is ten billion percent correct." 

He turned back to Taiju and waved offhandedly, as if shooing away the [hair color]-haired teenager's worries away from them. "Don't worry about it now. Let's make that a temporary goal of ours, and I'll help you out. That's the least I can do for you, considering you did most of the manual labor to get us where we are right now." 

[name] smiled thankfully. "What are your possible theories, Sen-chan?" The taller of the two stared at the ground in thought. "I have quite a few." 

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Not long after he had explained, they walked back to Senku's spot of origin. The two had figured that it was an external source, and so, here they were, standing in front of a cave. Just like everything else, the entrance of the cave was overrun with vines and roots from the tree above, but fortunately enough for them, the opening was not occupied to the point of no enter. 

The stone pieces closest to our heads had fallen first, with further pieces laying on top of them. In other words, when we had revived, it started from my head first. There must be some kind of key behind that direction! Red eyes widened as he caught sight of dripping from above. "Nitric acid.." Mumbled the shorter, making Senku nod in acknowledgement.

The male faced his [hair color]-haired friend. "Do you have any body parts that are still left petrified?" They nodded to his question, exposing their shoulder behind their clothing, revealing one medium-sized covering of stone. "Geez, you were doing manual labor even with a stoned shoulder? You should have told me." [Name] cheekily grinned at his grumbled response, replying, "No use grumbling about that now," with a giggle. "Besides, it only aches. It doesn't hurt like a wound or bruise would." 

Senku rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he gets exasperated at the cheekiness of his friend. Honestly, the male turned back towards the dripping nitric acid. "Should I try it out with my shoulder?" They were surprised to receive a shake of his head. "No, it's better if you don't. If it goes wrong, you'll most definitely get affected negatively. That'll hinder our efforts and progress, not to mention you'll likely to get hurt." Instead, the scientist plucked a few strands of hair from the back of his neck, where small pieces of stone had stuck. 

[name] watched as Senku walked forward towards the nitric acid and holding the hair strand out. Upon contact, the stone immediately burst into pieces. The grins on the two's faces matched as they made eye-contact. Immediately, the assistant rushed off to get a jar they had made and handed it to him, watching as the nitric acid started piling up within. 

Not too long after they had placed the jar underneath it, the nitric acid had been filled almost completely, and Senku rushed to take it from the younger's hold. He splashed it on Taiju's face and sit down criss-cross, waiting. [name], after patting their skirt, sat on their knees beside him. They waited in silence, expecting the third person of their quartet to wake up. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Nothing. 

Senku looked at the statue in confusion. Deciding to wait a bit more, he started whistling familiar songs out of boredom, [name]'s humming harmonizing with it. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Senku's face started contorting weirdly, making the shorter of the two of them choke and laugh. "Sen-chan, your faces are still as weird as ever." He grumbled in response, saying, "Don't laugh at me." This only proved to make them chuckle more. 

After a short snickering fit, they turned serious once more, facing the statue of Taiju. "It isn't that easy then.. Something between us and him must be different." They shared a nod. Senku rushes back to their investigation lab, leaving [name] behind. The said teenager quickly took out more jars and placed them on the ground. They placed the first one under it before backing away, looking around for something to do. 

Now that they look closely, there were flowers here too. 

Taking it into their hands, they started skillfully weaving a flower crown. Occasionally, they'd get up and take replace the jar before going back to their sitting position and continuing the flower crown. With all the jars filled and covered with animal cloth, they carefully balanced it within their hold, walking ever so slowly back to their destination. 

By the time they arrived, Senku had multiple birds on the floor. Tiny amounts of nitric acid were noticeable on them just as much as there were on some statue's heads, making it evident that he had been experimenting with the amount they had gathered prior. Senku sat criss-cross on the floor, frustrated with the lack of progress. Why did the nitric acid only work on us? He pressed his two fingers on the side of his forehead. It didn't have a single effect on Taiju, the swallows, or any of the statues I tested it on.. But why?!

What's the difference between them and us? Think! Even just a hypothesis is fine! Think! Thi—

clink, clink, clink 

His thoughts, interrupted by the sounds of three jars gently being put down, caught his attention, making his red eyes dart over to [name]. They stared at him, blinking slowly. Their presence immediately brought an idea to his head, and soon, he sat up hurriedly, escaping to the cave of nitric acid they had found. What he left behind was a smiling [name], having pieced together his string of thought. 

I've figured it out! 3,700 years.. that whole time, we were both still fully conscious! 

The brain burns about 400kals a day. Over three thousand and seven hundred years, that comes out to over two trillion joules of energy.

[name] hummed, sitting down and looking down on the sky.

E=mc² is the foundation of science. Energy can never be created from nothing!

He breathed heavily, but did not stop, not until he had arrived at the entrance of the cave, staring. 

That means.. that if Senku-chan / [nickname] and I can get rid of that something, then he/we can undo the petrification!

For now, the of us have got to experiment. It doesn't matter what. We just have to keep experimenting!

[name] sighed, picking at their fingers. There would only be one conclusion that they would resort to until Senku is able to recover their friends back.

On the other side, Senku poured the rest of the remaining nitric acid to bigger containers, sweat increasing by the second. I really wanted to try nital, the standard industrial corrosive agent.. Damn it, I don't have any alcohol.. It's so frustrating! 

"Just believe, Sen-chan.."

A smile. 

Another whisper lost to the wind. 

Keep experimenting.. Keep experimenting.. Keep experimenting! The phrase repeated itself in his head like a chant, beckoning him, tempting him, no, making him do it. 

Senku bit harshly into his thumb swiping it on his collar right after. Don't forget.. No matter how much this petrification seems like fantasy.. 

"No matter how long," they mumbled. "Sen-chan will achieve it. I believe in him, and I'm sure they do too." They dusted off their skirt after they moved from their position. A short walk towards the cave, they see Senku struggling with Taiju in his hold. "There is not enough manpower around here, even with you and me, [nickname]." Senku panted out.

"That's why you gotta hurry up and eat that nitric acid to wake up already! The hell's taking you so long, you scruffy-headed scatter-brained oaf? Your little sibling will collapse if they continue to work this hard unsupervised!" He stepped not too harshly on Taju's head, making [name] shake their head. "That's an exaggeration, Sen-chan," they grumbled.

"Is not," he replied right back. 

They rolled their eyes in reply, making Senku snicker. 

"Besides," he turned back to the statue, "I know you want to wake up too! For the past three thousand and seven hundred years, you've wanted it.. because you're just like me and [name]. You can't stand to give on anything, especially with a goal!"

Senku grit his teeth and continued, "I believe in you. [name] believes in you. We both believe in you, and we'll wait as long as it takes.. because neither of us can't do this without you." 

Various emotions showed on his face, from sadness to want. The shorter of the two placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling before speaking in sync, 

"Come back, Taiju!"

[angelinasway]

Regaining Hope

Chapter Six

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes:Thank you all for you're amazing reviews. I never get tired of reading them. I just got to say I adored writing this chapter. It was so much fun and I loved the banter. I'm slowly falling in love with this couple the more I explore it. I should warn everyone that there's a subject that comes up that might offend some of you. I did not write this part to try to do that to anyone, so please don't take it seriously. It was more about showing Buffy's age and what some of us begin to contemplate as we get older. If Buffy was really only twenty-one it wouldn't be a topic that would come up, but I don't think its to far off the mark that a thirty-two year old Buffy would think these thing. Once again, a shout out and huge thanks to my amazing beta Hipkarma for being so insightful and just plain helpful while editing these chapters. I don't know what I would do without her.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable  characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The  author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers  of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Six

Buffy awoke, as always right around eight. It didn’t matter where she was in the world, she always woke up around the same time every morning. Except, this morning happened to be very different because a large warm arm was wrapped firmly around her waist and a large thigh was wedged between her legs. She blinked in surprise as the night before came rushing back in surround sound and technicolor. From the moment Faith and Gunn woke them up having obnoxiously loud sex to when she first heard Clark moan. The deep baritone of the sound sending such a shock wave of lust straight to her core, she’d never felt anything like it and she was certain she couldn’t have stopped herself from touching him after that even if she tried.

God, he was built like brick wall. A very soft and warm brick wall, but a brick wall nonetheless. Training him was going to be difficult for that reason. She was incredibly strong but he was a hell of a lot stronger than her. Getting hit by him at full strength wasn’t really going to be an option. Though, she could always train him in her suit, which might actually give her a little bit of advantage against anything he threw at her. The suit itself was highly warded, to the point where she could probably get hit by a train and be able to walk it off. So that might actually be able to work, as long as he didn’t go for her head which unfortunately the full leather and Kevlar body suit did not cover. They could definitely work around that though.

 She bit her lip, remembering how good it felt to kiss him. It had been awkward at first, but he was an incredibly fast learner and eventually began to take the lead. Heat pooled in her belly at what came after though, the grinding and rubbing that ended in one of the best orgasms she ever had. He really was such a well-built man, everything about him was deceptively large from his broad shoulders to his thighs that were almost as big as tree trunks. Something she didn’t actually notice until she straddled him. The act itself had forced her legs farther apart than she was expecting. So, when he’d pulled her into his lap his cock was suddenly perfectly aligned against her clit, and boy did he feel big. Almost too big if she was being honest.

 The familiar throb of arousal hit her; her panties suddenly soaked. She vaguely remembered telling him after he got out of the shower that he looked ridiculous squashed up on her couch and to just share the bed. She was now slightly regretting that, because at this moment she wanted nothing more than to press herself back against the body currently cuddling her and grind her ass against the erection she felt poking her. ‘Yep, it was definitely time to get up.’

 She meant what she’d said earlier about not being ready for sex yet and she really did plan to stick to that. She wanted to get to know him first, find out what his likes and dislikes were, what his favorite movies were, hell even what his favorite color was. She truly did believe what Lorne had told her, but she craved the getting-to-know-you portion of the relationship process more than anything. It had been a long time since she had that. In fact, if she was being honest, she was pretty sure she never really had it.

 Angel had always hated talking about himself and she remembered very clearly spending a few hours researching him alone just to try and understand more about him. Unfortunately, back then Giles only had his pre-soul history, which probably should have been her first clue that embarking on any type of relationship with him was a bad idea. Riley had been different however, but when they started the relationship, they had both been keeping secrets. So, there had been big honesty issues there. Spike she hadn’t bothered getting to know, at least not before his soul. Oh, there were plenty of times she would slip up and ask him a question about himself, and even be cordial to him, but the personal stuff hadn’t come until those long nights spent together planning against The First. And, then again, after Angelus had killed Giles when she was basically a walking zombie. He would talk to her for hours even if she didn’t talk back just to try and snap her out of her desolation. He told her all about his life when he was human, and would even talk about some of the places he traveled with Dru. He never mentioned Angelus in those times, and she was grateful for that.

 It was in those moments that she realized why she and Spike meshed so well. He was very good at taking care of broken things and she was a very broken thing. He was created for it actually, and he needed to take care of her just as badly as she needed to be taken care of. She just hoped Clark could handle the task as well, because she had picked up a lot of the pieces of her shattered heart and soul and begun to paste them back together, but there were still several missing parts of herself that she had lost along the way. She was working on it and had been for awhile but she still had her moments of utter despair and moodiness. Buffy knew better than anyone how difficult she could be.

 She slowly tried to extract herself from his hold, but the arm that held her in place tightened. She heard a sleepy moan next to ear and then she felt his body stiffen as he came awake. Clark quickly removed his arm from around her waist and the knee that had wedged itself between her thighs and turned over on his back.

 “Sorry,” He murmured groggily.

 Buffy turned to face him, a slow smile spreading across her face as she propped her head up with her hand. He was blushing again and she found she rather enjoyed it. “I think we’re past accidental sleepy cuddling, don’t you?”

 A sleepy half smile crossed his lips at her words, "Mmm," he hummed. "So, that really did happen."

 She chuckled; he was absolutely adorable. "Unless we were sharing the same dream, I'm gonna go with a big uh-huh."

 His blue eyes met hers, and his smile stretched into a full grin. His hand reached up and he ran the back of it down her cheek.

 "Are you hungry?" He asked.

 She nodded. "I could definitely eat."

 He sighed. "We should probably get dressed then." 

 "Mmm," She agreed, rolling on her back and stretching her arms above her head. "Shower first though, and I should probably grab your clothes from yesterday out of the dryer."

 His hand reached out again, running it along the flat of her stomach. "You shower, I remember where the laundry room is. I'll get them."

 He sat up and then leaned down to kiss her, but she stopped him. "I have morning breath. I really don't think you want to do that before I brush my teeth."

 He chuckled and shook his head. "I honestly don't think I care," and then he was on her, his lips sliding against hers.

 She giggled, breaking the kiss and saying, "I think I created a monster."

 "Well, maybe you shouldn't have taken advantage of me last night." Clark said, a smirk forming on his lips.

 Buffy’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widening. "I did no such thing!" She said on a laugh.

 "Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I think you did," and then he was kissing her again, sliding his tongue into her mouth before she could protest.

 The kisses suddenly turned much more serious and before she knew what she was doing her legs had wrapped around his waist and her arms were around his neck. She felt his hard length push against her and she moaned.

 "Mmm," He hummed, breaking the kiss. "I could get used to that sound."

His lips slid along her jawline, until he reached her neck where he placed a few wet kisses and then froze. He pulled away and Buffy’s eyes shot open. His eyes staring at her neck in a mixture horror and disbelief. 

 "Where...how did you get that?" He asked, his hand coming up to brush his thumb across her scar.

 Buffy's own hand came up and rubbed the area. "Vampire bite. Well, three to be exact." She saw a pained look flash across his eyes as his hand came up to cup her cheek. "What is it?" She asked.

 Clark shook his head, removing his hand and sitting back. "I just..." He sighed. "I can't help thinking how different your life might have been had I met you sooner." He looked away. “You’ve been through so much, some of it I read and some of it you told me.” He met her eyes, sadness and guilt shining in them, “And I’m guessing that’s only the half of it…and…and I can’t help thinking that I could have saved you from it all.”

 She felt her heart melt a little at his words. That was definitely up there with at least the top five sweetest things anyone ever said to her, but he shouldn’t be beating himself up for something that was out of his hands.

 She sighed sitting up, her hand reaching for his and entwining their fingers, bringing it into her lap. “As sweet as the sentiment is Clark, you can’t think like that.” She nodded, “Trust me, I’m the queen of blaming myself for things that are absolutely out of my control and the truth is, neither of us can know what would have happened had we met sooner.” She shrugged “I mean think about it. Sure, my life would have been easier but when the big stuff came up, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it as well, and do you honestly think I wouldn’t have jumped for Dawn?” She swallowed, “As shitty as the outcome was and even if I knew back then what I know now, I would do it again for her in a heartbeat.”

 “I know,” he whispered, looking down. “I just…what if I could have stopped you from having to jump at all?”

 She reached her free hand out, cupping his cheek, “Then I wouldn’t be who I am today. I would have never had the choice to take more power than I already had and have the strength and wherewithal to turn it down. I would have never found the Scythe and been able to use its power to activate the Slayers.” At Clark’s frown, she pulled away, getting off the bed and opened the closet. She unzipped her weapons bag and pulled out the Scythe.

 “This,” she said, showing him the weapon from when they first met. “It was made thousands of years ago by something called the Guardians. It was made for the first Slayer and she used it to drive the last Old One from this plain of existence. Then it was hidden until the day I found it. It’s the whole reason Willow was able to tap into the Slayer line and activate the girls. It’s incredibly powerful, and I can feel the power thrumming underneath my hand as we speak.” She put the Scythe back and walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Kinda like you.”

 Clark swallowed. “What…what do I feel like?”

 “Powerful, almost overwhelmingly so,” she said honestly, sitting back on the bed. “But not evil or demonic. Those kinda things usually feel cold, like the temperature suddenly drops and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.” She gave him a small smile, “You feel warm, like I’ve been sunbathing for hours and my skin is that perfect mixture of overheated and sun kissed.”

 He brought his hand up, cupping her chin and rubbing his thumb along her lower lip. "And when I kiss you?"

 Buffy gasped, heat building in her belly. It took everything in her not to suck his thumb into her mouth. "If I answer that," she said breathily, "we won't ever make it to breakfast."

 He blew out a breath, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers. "I've never felt so out of control in my life." He opened his eyes, meeting hers. "You...you make me want to lose control."

 "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" She asked, her hand coming up to rub down his chest.

 "I honestly don't know," he sighed. "But it scares the hell out of me."

 "I'm sorry," she whispered.

 He kissed her then, his hand running into her hair before saying, "Don't be. I feel more alive than I have in years."

 "I think that makes two of us then." She said softly. "You're not the only one who feels out of control or alive." She paused, "And I think if I don't get in the shower soon, I don't think I can be held responsible for my next actions."

 He chuckled, pulling away. "Then you should probably take a shower," he said moving off the bed, "because I'm pretty sure you aren't alone in that either."

 Buffy laughed, "You sure you can find the laundry room, okay?"

 "I got it," he said, reaching out to stroke her cheek before grabbing his discarded sweats from last night, chucking them on and heading for the door.

 Buffy watched him go and then shook herself out of her daze. God, he had a fabulous back. Why had she not noticed it before? This was going to be incredibly hard if they were both feeling this way. She once again opened her closet grabbing what she needed for the day.

 ****<S>**<S>****

Clark raised an eyebrow, looking at her in amusement, "You really think this is a good idea?"

 She grinned, "No, but it’s cheap entertainment and they deserve it."

 They were standing in the hallway outside Faith and Gunn’s room. Buffy having the bright idea of getting back at the couple for their shenanigan’s the night before, because as she said, “This was a long time coming.”

 "Alright," he said chuckling. "Then hand me the bucket."

 "What...why?" She asked confused.

 Clark rolled his eyes, "Because I'm going to make the water colder."

 Buffy frowned. "Is this another ability you've yet to tell me about?"

 He looked at her innocently. “Maybe?”

 The look she gave him was both parts annoyed and pouty. “Okay Mr. Secret Keeper, who keeps secrets. Here,” she grumbled, shoving the quarter filled bucket into his arms.

 “I think you’ve been watching too much Harry Potter,” he said as seriously as he could, even though he knew it was obvious he was trying not to laugh.

She looked almost offended for a moment, “I have not!” A full-fledged pout finally broke out on her lips, “At least not willingly. Willow makes me watch it every year.” She sighed, “Then we get into an argument about if the Wizarding World is real or not in another dimension. It’s a thing.”

 He snorted, "You're joking."

 She rolled her eyes, "I wish," and then she shook her head. "Now hurry up, before they wake up."

 He grinned, blowing softly into the bucket and handing it back. "There, it should be cold enough now."

 She frowned at the water, reaching her hand into the bucket and touching it. Her eyes widened in surprise. 

 "Wow! That's like seriously impressive." She grinned, "This is gonna be so good." Buffy looked at him, "You ready?"

 At Clark’s nod, she said, "Alright, get ready to run." 

 He watched her take a step back and then her leg shot out, slamming into the door. The lock splintered and the door swung open, hitting the wall hard. Both Faith and Gunn shot up in alarm, suddenly alert and ready to fight.

 “Wakey, wakey!” Buffy yelled, before tossing the contents of the bucket on them.

 They both screamed when the ice water hit them. Their eyes widening in disbelief. Faith panted from the sudden shock of the water, looking at hers soaked tank top, her bed, and then Gunn before her eyes suddenly swung up to meet Buffy’s dancing ones. The look she gave them both could freeze over hell, it even managed to make Clark nervous enough to start backing up.

 “You. Are. So. Fucking. Dead!” She ground out, fury flashing in her eyes.

 “Run!” Buffy squealed, already pushing him down the hallway just as Faith shot out of bed. They were both through the living area and out the staff door in seconds, but Faith was fast and she was hot on their heels. The sound of her bare feet slapping against hardwood close behind them.

 As they approached the stairwell a giggling Buffy yelled, “Jump, no time for stairs.”

 Clark quickly launched himself over the banister, landing on the ground floor and turning just in time to see Buffy do the same. She landed on her feet and looked up in time to see a snarling Faith staring down at them, water still dripping from her hair and tank top.

 “You’re dead B!” She yelled.

 “What the hell!” Lisa said, coming around the corner a few of the girls hot on her heels just as Faith launched herself off the banister.

 Buffy was pushing Clark again and they slammed out the front door and into the cool morning air. He wrapped his arms around her just as Faith reached the door in only a tank top and boxers and shot them into the air just before she could reach them. Both of them broke into fits of hysterics when they heard her scream, “He can fucking fly!”

 “Wow,” Buffy said in between her giggles. “She’s really mad, isn’t she?”

 ****<S>**<S>****

 “Okay,” Buffy said, snagging a piece of bacon off his plate. “Favorite comedy?”

 They were in a restaurant not too far from the school. It was a very small establishment, but it was busy and the food smelt good. Buffy had recommended it to Clark, saying it was the best kept secret in Cleveland. It had taken them a little while to get a table, but now they were comfortably seated with two delicious looking breakfasts in front of them.

 They had been exchanging questions since they arrived at the restaurant. Simple things, from favorite colors, to places traveled, and now they were on to movies. Except Buffy had just stolen a piece of bacon off his plate without even asking, and it was done in such a way it almost felt domestic. Almost as if this was a completely normal occurrence and they had dined together hundreds of times.

 “Did you…did you just steal my bacon?” Clark said, raising an eyebrow.

 She blinked at him innocently, taking a bite of the salty goodness while holding back a smile, “Maybe.”

 He snorted, “Well, now I want a bite of your pancakes.”

 Buffy’s face broke into a grin, and she used her fork to cut him a piece of her strawberry and banana pancakes. Leaning over the table and holding out the bite to him, while using her other hand to protect the table from any syrup dripping.

 Clark leaned forward, wrapped his lips around the offered morsel and hummed as the sugary taste exploded on his tongue. He nodded, swallowing the bite before saying, “I should have gotten the pancakes.”    

 Buffy chuckled, cutting her own piece and taking a bite, her eyes rolling up at the homemade strawberry syrup. “I told you.” She said after swallowing. “This place has awesome pancakes for it being such a hole in the wall.”

 Clark cut into his eggs benedict and took a bite. “Mmm,” He hummed, pointing at his plate as he chewed and swallowed. “But this is very good too.”

 "What do you like better?" She asked.

 "Hmm," he said thinking. "Well, it’s not a very fair comparison. One’s sweet and one’s savory."

 "True," she acknowledged. "So, I guess the question should be, what do prefer sweet or salty?"

 He licked his lips. "That's actually a tough question. My mom is an excellent cook on both fronts, but I think if I had to choose it would be sweet. I love pie and she does make the best."

 She smiled softly, "She sounds pretty incredible."

 He nodded, "My parents couldn't have kids so them finding me was what she calls a miracle." He smiled, "When I was a kid and my abilities first started showing, she was the one who helped me control it. She taught me how to focus and block everything else out."

 "I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous about meeting her." She confessed shyly.

 He frowned in confusion, "Why?"

 Buffy shrugged, "Well, she raised you, didn’t she? Any woman capable of turning out a guy who so far has been one of the sweetest, most well-mannered men I’ve ever met, must have some superpowers of her own."

 He chuckled a blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to know that."

 Buffy grinned, shaking her head. "Anyway, back to our original topic. What's your favorite comedy?"

 "Hmm," He thought for a moment. "Well right now, I think it’s a toss-up between Talladega Nights and Step Brothers." He said, taking another bite of his breakfast.

 "Ah," she acknowledged. "A Ferrell fan. He is hilarious, but I myself would have to go with Sandler or Kevin Smith. I love Dogma and Fifty First Dates is probably my favorite romantic comedy."

 He shook his head, "I've never seen Dogma. Isn't that the one that makes fun of religion?"

 Buffy's mouth dropped open, "You've never seen it! Okay that's the first movie we are watching together,” Her cheeks suddenly pinkening as she cleared her throat and added. “And yes, it does make fun of religion but in a really unique way where it sends a good message too.” She shrugged, “I think I like it because of how well it rips the Bible apart as far as hypocrisy goes. I’m not very religious, but I mean I do believe there’s something. I don’t know if it’s all the Powers or God or what really, but there is definitely something beyond all this. However, the Bible is one of those things that gets used for evil, far more than it’s used for good. Plus, I’m living proof that some of the sins mentioned in the Bible are complete bullshit.”

 He raised an eyebrow, “Because you went to heaven.”

 She nodded, “Exactly. Let’s see,” she began to count off her sins on one hand. “Lying, I did a lot of that after I was called, also definitely did not honor my mother and father, I’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain on several occasions, I’ve stolen when I’ve had to, not for myself but for slaying.” She put her hand down. “Not to mention,” She whispered quietly. “I may have killed a few people who were after my sister back then, not intentionally of course but I’m pretty sure I killed at least one of them and I’m almost positive they were very human.” At Clark’s surprised frown she explained, “There were these, god I don’t even know a better way of describing it other than medieval knights charged with destroying the Key, and when we all tried to run, they attacked us.”

 “But wouldn’t that be considered self-defense?” He asked with a frown and then added, “And maybe you were allowed to go to heaven because of what you are?”

 Buffy snorted, “And how unfair is that. I get to go to heaven with the same kinda vague belief system as other people who live their lives with less red on their ledger than I have, but they don’t.” She shook her head. “It’s also kinda bullshit how no sin is greater than any other, or in Catholicism’s case it only applies to anyone in the church. I mean come on, I’ve heard of the Catholic church in particular, refusing to hold a funeral or allow burial over suicide, and yet they protect their pedophile priests like they are somehow above it all.” She sighed, a blush forming on her cheeks at her diatribe. “Sorry, I have many feelings about this particular subject.” She looked down, “I think that most religions have it wrong. It’s about our intents and choices, if we spend our lives at least trying to do good, no matter if we fall along the way or not, we have a place in heaven. If we however let the darkness that is always around us, whether we know it’s there or not, consume us, then we let ourselves be corrupted. If we begin to enjoy the pain and suffering, we as humans are quite capable of causing all on our own, I think that’s when we become hell bound.” She took a drink of her juice, meeting his eyes again, before adding. “I’m sorry if you’re religious and I offended you. I sometimes forget that not everyone thinks the same way I do.”

 He smiled softly. She was really cute when she was passionate about something. He couldn’t really help playing devil’s advocate to watch that spark in her eyes as she got indignant over the topic of religion, but it had gone on long enough. He was trying to enjoy this moment, not offend her.

 “I’m not,” He clarified. “I honestly don’t know what I believe. My dad and mom had me baptized as Presbyterian, but I think my dad might have stopped believing after they found me. My mom probably did too, but she would never admit it.”

 Buffy frowned, “Then why–”

 “Because I’m an alien Buffy,” He shook his head. “Neither of them knew where I was from or what I was. I looked human, but they both knew I wasn’t.” He shrugged, “I think they did it to teach me right from wrong the only way they really understood how. The same way their parents taught them.” He shook his head, “It wasn’t only that though, my dad used stories, his own life stories to drill into me how important it was that I always made the better choice, because for someone like me, losing my temper isn’t really an option if it’s going to hurt someone.” He sighed, “As for religion, I used to wonder why God would make me this way until my dad told me the truth. It’s very hard for me to worship a god that had no hand in my creation. In fact, I stopped going to church because I just felt like an imposter.”

 Her eyes softened at his words and she reached her hand across the table and entwined their fingers. “You aren’t an imposter, Clark. I may not be religious, but I absolutely believe in destiny and the prophecy proves you were meant to be here. That somewhere in the ether the Powers or whoever, saw your soul and found it important enough to send a vision to some unsuspecting seer here on Earth.” She smiled, “No matter what happens, don’t ever feel you don’t belong here.”

 “Yeah, for what purpose still remains to be seen.” He said, frowning slightly.

 Buffy frowned, “I thought your dad said–”

 Clark shook his head, “I’m not talking about why my parents sent me here, I’m talking about the prophecy.”

 Understanding suddenly came into her eyes and she sighed, “I’ll try to work on Wes for you, okay? I know it’s frustrating but I don’t think he’s keeping it from us because he’s trying to be malicious or hoard information.” She nodded, “I do believe he’s genuinely trying to protect us, but I’m also not stupid enough to believe that’s the only reason.”

 He looked at her surprised by her admission as he watched her take a bite of her pancakes. “What…what do you mean?”

 Buffy swallowed and licked the syrup off her lips, using her napkin to dab up the excess. “Honestly, I think they’re trying to protect me from myself. Willow said it herself that day in the ship. There’re some things in it that would seriously wig me. Lorne said we’re soulmates, and I believe him, but it’s more than soulmates and I think you feel it too.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “If the prophecy say’s that we are destined in some way and they told me, there’s a very good chance we would not be sitting here right now because I would constantly be second guessing my feelings. At least that’s what they probably think.”

 Clark studied her. She really was impressive, he found himself admiring her the more they got to know each other. “You already knew though, didn’t you?”

 “I guessed it might be that in the ship, when Willow said what she said. Earlier that day when you were in my trailer and you left your poem.” Buffy smirked, “Clever by the way.” She said, looking at him appraisingly, before adding, “When you passed me, I felt something I’ve never felt before, it was like I was on fire. It was so powerful that even Hardy noticed my reaction and I was definitely not trying to draw attention to you.”

 “Oh yes,” Clark acknowledged. “I remember over hearing that conversation.” He smirked at her, “What was it that you called me? Oh yeah, a well-built redneck with puppy eyes.” Watching her cheeks bloom with color was completely worth bringing it up.

  “In my defense,” she said, embarrassment shining in her eyes. “I was trying to get him off your back.” Then she frowned in realization, “Seriously, you can hear that far?”

 “I can hear anything on earth if I focus,” He admitted, her eyes widening in surprise. “When I was a kid and it first happened, it was like hearing everything at once. I thought I was going crazy.”

 Her eyes softened. “That must have been horrible.”

 “It was, and scary. I remember how scared I was.” He met her eyes as he thought about her admitting she already suspected that the prophecy said they were destined. “Can I ask you something?” At her nod, he continued, “Last night you said you usually fight things like this and even your friends thought you would freak-out. Why aren’t you fighting it?”

 Her eyes dulled somewhat at the question and she pushed the few remaining bites she had around with her fork. “Honestly,” She paused, looking down at her food. “Honestly, I’m lonely.” She admitted. “I haven’t had this type of connection in years and it feels good.” She met his eyes then a blush staining her cheeks, “I thought about it and decided if the Powers are gonna give me something as beautiful as you after all the crap I’ve been through, then I was okay with that. Even this, just us talking and getting to know each other is more than I’ve had as far as romance goes in…I don’t even know how long. I had no idea how much I needed this kind of thing until I met you.”

 Heat filled his cheeks at her words and their eyes remained locked on each other’s for what felt like a long time. Clark reached his hand across the table and placed it on hers.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never felt like anything like this before." He sighed, "I had no idea something as simple as eating breakfast with a beautiful woman, who I don't have to hide from, could feel so good."

 Buffy smiled softly, "We are a pair, aren't we?"

 He chuckled, and nodded. "That we are."

 Buffy’s cell phone rang the next second, her eyes glancing at the caller ID and widening in horror. "Shit," she hissed.

 "What... what is it?" Clark asked in alarm.

 "It's Dawn." She responded, staring at the phone.

 He raised an eyebrow, "And that's a bad thing?"

 "If Faith called her and mentioned you, yeah it could be bad." She answered, not taking her eyes off the phone.

 "You don't think Faith would tell her what I am do you." Clark said, worry lacing his voice.

 Buffy shook her head, "No, she's not that stupid. But I could see her hinting that you are something other as revenge for this morning." She sighed, "Which would just put my sister in a panic."

 The phone luckily stopped ringing and Clark watched Buffy sigh in relief, only to have it melt away when her text message chime went off.

 He watched her look at the message as the color drained from her face. "Shit!" She said again.

 "What does it say?" He asked nervously.

 "She said that if I don't pick up the phone, she's gonna show up here, and that I have five minutes." Buffy looked at him nervously and sighed. "Sometimes I really wish we didn't show her how to use her keyness, because unfortunately she's not bluffing."

 She looked at him apologetically, "You're about to get the full of Dawn in rant mode, so prepare yourself."

 Buffy dialed the number and squeezed her eyes shut as the other line connected and it was answered after the first ring.

“Hello, my beautiful and wonderful sister who doesn’t even bother to let me know she’s back in the amazing U.S. of A.” The sarcasm in the voice alone told Clark that Buffy was about to be chewed out.

 “Dawn,” Buffy started, but was cut off immediately.

 “So, my dearest sister, Buffy…you mind telling me why my husband is about to send one of his crew members out to fix the door and rent a fan to dry the bed in Faith’s and Gunn’s room?” An extremely sarcastic female voice said over the phone. “Or better yet, who’s this new recruit you’re getting so chummy with…hmm? Also, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were back in the states and not call!”

 Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and Clark bit back his amusement, he had no siblings so this was somewhat fascinating for him. Buffy met his eyes and glared at the amusement dancing there. “Just you wait.” She mouthed, which made his nervousness skyrocket.

 “Sorry Dawn,” She sighed. “I should have called, but I had just gotten out of quarantine and Wes was real big on me getting in touch with the new recruit.”  

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to deflect like that, because Faith already told me. He felt more powerful than she has felt in long time, but she won’t tell me what he is.” There was a moment of pause before an exasperated tone came over the line. “So, what is he Buffy?”

 “It’s not what you–” she started, but Dawn cut her off.

 “If you tell me it’s not what I think I will show up there in the middle of Breakers Breakfast, I don’t care how busy it is, now spill!” Buffy’s little sister demanded.

 Buffy looked at him and swallowed, “Seriously, this is not the time nor place to start talking about this.”

 “He’s there, isn’t he?” Came her sister’s reply.

 Buffy’s eyes widened, before quickly blurting, “Have you talked to Wes?”

 Dawn paused, “Should I?”

 ‘Well, this was mostly his idea.” Buffy answered.

 “So, Wes is okay with you boinking another demon?” Her sister’s indignant tone came over the line.

 “First off,” Buffy growled, making Clark look around to see if anybody was listening. “I haven’t boinked anybody,” she said lowly. “Secondly, he’s not a demon, and third, when the hell did you turn into mom!”

 “Maybe when I became a mother.” Dawn said exasperated. “Now give him the phone so I can give him the usual sisterly threats so he can know exactly what kinda hell he’ll reap if he hurts you.”

 “Dawn,” Buffy warned.

 “Do you actually think I won’t show up there.” Her sister countered.

 Buffy’s eyes looked at him apologetically, and he saved her the humiliation of having to ask by holding out his hand. She sighed gratefully and handed him the phone.

 “Hello,” Clark greeted.

 “Now you listen here bub,” was the first thing she said. “I don’t really care what you are but if you do anything to hurt my sister, I will open a vein and send you to Quor’toth, do you understand?”

 Clark cleared his throat. “I have no intention–”

“Of course you don’t,” She interrupted. “They never do. Now put me back on with my sister.” He blinked in surprised and shrugged, handing her back the phone.

 “I think your threat was kinda lost on him, Dawn.” Buffy said in amusement, looking at a confused Clark. “I really don’t think he knows what Quor’toth is.”

 “Well maybe you should tell him,” Came the snarky reply over the line. “Anyway, you better give me a phone call when you can talk in private, after the kids, me and Xand’s sex life isn’t exactly popping. So, I wanna know everything.”

 A blush spread over Buffy’s cheeks, “There’s really nothing to tell Dawn.”

 “Liar,” Dawn countered.

 Buffy rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll call you in a few hours.”

 ****<S>**<S>****

 They had stopped by the school to grab the rest of Clark’s things before he went home. Buffy giving him an extra backpack she had lying around to store them in. Thankfully, both Gunn and Faith were out, so they didn’t have to deal with any unwanted confrontations.

 “What time does your flight get in tomorrow?” Clark asked, adjusting the strap on the backpack.

 “1000…I mean Ten in the morning.” She answered.

 “Do you want me to pick you up?” He asked.

 She smiled shyly, “Only if you want to, but there will be quite a lot to do before we can make it to Smallville.”

 “Such as?” He asked, stepping closer and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Not really knowing how to stop himself from touching her since he knew he wouldn’t see her again until tomorrow.

 “Well,” she said, stepping closer. “I’ve gotta open the safehouse and get you a keycard to get in.” She reached her hand up her fingers running along the seam of his outer shirt. “There will probably be some sort of contract as far as payment for helping us goes, that I’ll need to print out.”

 “Payment?” He asked, confused.

 Buffy nodded, “Of course, If you help us stop an apocalypse or go on a mission with a bunch of Slayers, you get paid. The amount however, depends on how serious a situation it is.” She looked at him softly, “You didn’t actually think we would ask you to do any of this without some sort of compensation, did you?”

 He looked away and shrugged. “I honestly didn’t think about it.”

 She smiled, “You really are the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

 When he met her eyes, she had moved even closer, but this time he wasn’t scared. His arms immediately wrapped around her and he lowered his head and brushed her lips softly, not taking it any farther than that. He leaned his head against hers and whispered. “I wish I didn’t have to go yet.”

 “Me too.” She admitted, “But it’s okay, we’ll see each other tomorrow.” Then her eyes brightened and she pulled away. “I almost forgot, I got you this.” She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a cellphone. “Here.”

 “That way, you can call me if you get bored.” She blushed.

 He grinned taking the phone from her hand. “Thank you. I definitely will,” and then he sighed as he put the phone in the backpack. “I definitely need to go, my mom’s probably already worried since I didn’t come home last night.”

 “Of course.” Buffy said, smiling sadly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 Clark leaned forward and they kissed one last time, before he stepped back and shot into the air, looking below at the girl who was slowly changing his world.

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Capital Centre in Landover, MD, USA - November 29, 1977

(x)

A fan filmed the first couple minutes of the show on a silent Super 8 camera, but he was caught by a security guard and the film was confiscated.

Another fan recalls the band took a 30 minute break in the middle of the show, and started the second half of the show with Tie Your Mother Down. He also says they performed both Spread Your Wings and It's Late.

Here is a review of the show from the next day's Washington Post. It reveals that the band have swapped Keep Yourself Alive with Now I'm Here. The former now follows Bohemian Rhapsody in the setlist, as it had earlier in the year.

There is a great story on Brian May's website by Tracy Chevalier, who attended the show as a youngster:

It started with a champagne toast and ended with a limo pulling away into the night. In between these two gestures symbolising glamour and sophistication, I lost my virginity. Not in the technical sense (that would take another few years), but in other ways. At my first ever rock concert — going with four friends to see Queen at the Capital Centre in November 1977 — I got an eye-opening peek at elements of the adult world, with its power and its limitations, its glittering artifice and dirty reality, and it demonstrated how little I knew and how much I had yet to learn about life.

I was ripe for it; overdue, really. I had turned 15 the month before the concert, and though people thought I looked older than I was, I was remarkably naive and unworldly at that age. Despite a few character-building events in my childhood — the death of my mother when I was almost 8, the experience of being a minority in DC public schools — I was so unsophisticated, so unaware of the world, that I didn’t even realise Queen was an English band until the lead singer Freddie Mercury appeared in a tight white catsuit on stage at the Capital Centre, raised a glass of champagne at 18,000 screaming fans, and toasted us with “Good evening, Washington” in a fruity English accent. I was stunned. Then I started screaming.

I had been a Queen fan for a couple of years by then. A Night at the Opera was the first LP I bought, and I could sing every word of every song. I don’t remember how I was introduced to Queen — though I do remember hearing their biggest hit, Bohemian Rhapsody, on the radio and being impressed by its audacity. It sure beat the hell out of the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Neil Young, which had been my older sister’s staple music diet. By 14, I was writing Queen lyrics on the desk where I sat for algebra class, swapping them back and forth with a boy I had a crush on, and daydreaming of guitarist Brian May kissing me.

The concert was part of Queen’s News of the World tour. While not a great album, especially after the double whammy of A Night at the Opera and its follow-up, A Day at the Races, it did produce two of their best-known songs, We Will Rock You and We are the Champions, which drop-kicked them firmly into stadium anthem territory. Appropriately, the concert began with the lights going down and the primitive, effective, impossible-not-to-join-in-with BOOM- BOOM-CHI, BOOM-BOOM-CHI, BOOM-BOOM-CHI intro to We Will Rock You rolling over the audience. Everyone immediately jumped up out of their seats and began to stomp and clap along. I, too, stood and stomped and clapped, watching in awe as people began flicking their Bic lighters, a gesture I had never seen before. What, were they going to set light to something? I had tried not to act surprised earlier when people nearby started smoking grass in public, but now was there going to be a riot? What other illegal things would go on that night? Then a spotlight picked out Freddie Mercury, who began to sing, “Buddy you’re a boy, make a big noise, playin’ in the street, gonna be a big man someday . . .” and I thought, “Jesus H. Christ, that is the loudest noise I’ve ever heard! Is that legal?” The wall of sound terrified me, and I wanted to cover my ears, but I didn’t dare, as it would have been a very uncool thing to do. I think I looked around for the exit, wondering how many people I would have to climb over to escape the sound. It was just so goddamned loud — exhilarating, yes, but painful, too, dangerous and overwhelming. I wavered between loving it and hating it, but knew it would be uncool to hate it, so I’d better try to love it.

Towards the end of the song the single note of an electric guitar began to hum louder and louder under the chorus we were all singing and shouting, and Brian May stepped into the light to add his distinctive sound, ending We Will Rock You with low, long-sustain, three-part harmony chords, overlaid with a high melody he made fuzzy and metallic by using a coin as a guitar pick. I adored Brian May. He was the reserved, straight guy (literally) to Freddie Mercury’s camp high jinks — tall, dark, good-looking, with long curly hair and a melancholy pensiveness that made every teenage girl want to comfort him. At this concert he was wearing a silvery white jacket with long, pleated wing sleeves; that combined with his mop of curls should have made him look effeminate, but instead he was deeply sexy.

I loved Freddie, too, for his outrageous antics, his riskiness, his joy at performing and glorious indifference to how ridiculous he looked wearing glittery leotard jumpsuits, eyeliner and a mullet, prancing and strutting and posing, twitching his hips, smacking his lips and otherwise hamming it up. But even without being conscious of Freddie’s sexual preference — I hadn’t yet met anyone who was openly gay — I instinctively sensed he was not to be lusted after. For all his extrovert, welcoming stage presence, he was clearly playing a part, which served to hold us at arm’s length; whereas Brian May’s taciturn moodiness was clearly himself served up raw.

Thank God for Freddie, though. Without him, no one would have moved on stage: Brian May was not a dancer, John Deacon, in time-honoured bassist tradition, stood solidly in one place throughout, and Roger Taylor was trapped by his drum kit.

To set us at our ease, after We Will Rock You Freddie toasted us with a glass of champagne — “Moët et Chandon, of course,” after the reference in the hit Killer Queen. My friends and I heard this and screamed and clutched one another. He mentioned Moët et Chandon! That was our champagne! He was acknowledging us! I swear he made eye contact with me, 200 yards away and over the heads of thousands.

For we had done what we thought was the most original and extravagant gesture (for 15-year-olds) a fan could make: we had sent a bottle of champagne backstage. We’d pooled our money and gotten an older sister to buy it for us — the same sister who had been obliged to drive us all the way to the Capital Centre, smirking at our overexcited fandom. We’d even made our way to the stage door down a loading dock at the back of the arena and reluctantly handed over the precious bottle to a bored roadie, who said he would take it to the band. We’d had our doubts about his reliability, and his jadedness had dampened our enthusiasm a bit: had we really blown all that money — $20, which in those days meant 20 hours of babysitting — to have some unshaven jerk with a beer belly swill the precious liquid? But clearly the roadie had pulled through for us, for there was our champagne in Freddie Mercury’s hand, and he was referring to Moët et Chandon in his pretty cabinet, the lyrics we had so cleverly quoted in the note we sent along with the bottle. We were sure we — among the many thousands — had managed to get through to the band.

If we had bothered to look around rather than feast our eyes on Brian and Freddie (I’m afraid John Deacon and Roger Taylor never got a look-in from me), we probably would have seen other clusters of fans also screaming and clutching one another during Freddie’s toast. But we didn’t look around or harbour doubts, or we ignored them. It was only much later that I allowed myself to consider the veritable champagne lake that must have existed backstage at every Queen concert. Tip to rock stars: want a free truckload of champagne wherever you go? Sing a song that mentions some — preferably name-checking a more expensive brand to ensure better quality — and watch it pour in backstage every night from adoring fans. There must have been a hundred bottles from fans back there, not counting the stash the band may well have brought with them in case Portland or Houston or Detroit weren’t so generous. No wonder that roadie looked so bored — he’d probably been put on champagne duty that night.

Freddie’s toast worked its magic, though, giving me the connection I needed to negotiate a place within the strangeness of the concertgoing experience itself: the weird, scary power of a crowd; the mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment at collective participation; the physical discomfort of standing for two hours when there’s a perfectly comfortable seat behind you. It is one of those tricky, unresolved tensions at concerts: are we there to listen to the music or actively respond to it, participate as a group or answer our needs as individuals? It’s an issue I’ve never entirely resolved — from Queen onwards I have spent concerts going in and out of myself, losing myself to the music and spectacle one minute, the next minute overly conscious of myself clapping or singing or screaming, and wondering why concerts have to be such an uncomfortable physical ordeal.

I was taken aback by the sound of Queen’s music live: not just the volume, but the familiarity and also the strange rawness of the songs. Studio albums have all the mistakes airbrushed out, the layers added in, the balance between players carefully calibrated, like clever dialogue in a play without the awkward pauses and unfinished conversations you get in real life. Queen albums were highly produced, multi-layered affairs. Live, the music was necessarily stripped of a lot of the choral mixing, more raucous, simpler and much messier.

The band wisely didn’t dare attempt to reproduce in its entirety the long, baroque confection that is Bohemian Rhapsody. For the infamous operatic middle section, the band members left the stage as the studio recording played. Freddie and Brian then changed costume, and, at the word “Beelzebub”, all four men popped out of a door in the stage floor and joined live again for the heavy metal section, fireworks going off, dry ice pouring out, everyone going berserk, me in tears of excitement. It was one of the best live moments I’ve ever witnessed. Indeed, I was spoiled by seeing Queen play live before anyone else; for sheer exuberant theatricality, no one else has come close.

The concert ended with an instrumental version of God Save the Queen and once more the flicking of the Bics, which, no longer the virgin concertgoer, I understood now as a gesture of tribute. My friends and I weren’t finished, though. Emboldened by Freddie’s toast, we decided to go to the stage entrance again and say hello. I still choke with embarrassment when I think of it. When we got there, a black limousine was pulling away, our heroes and their entourage inside, and we were left with the detritus: older, dolled-up, hard-bitten groupies who had followed the band around and not made this night’s cut. I stared at one, at her long, bleach-blond hair, her miniskirt, her bright red lipstick. She glared at me briefly; then her face went slack as she dismissed the idea of me being any sort of competition. In fact, I had not really taken in that there was a competition, that the girls (and I?) were here to spread our wares and catch the attention of one of the men, and then . . . And then? I hadn’t thought it through at all. I wouldn’t have known what to do with such a man as Brian May if he even so much as looked at me. All I knew was that I was way, way out of my depth, that even if I had eluded the roadie minding the door, there was no way I was ever going to get past a woman like this.

The contrast between the sparkling theatricality of the concert and the gritty reality of the backstage, with its dirty concrete, anonymous faces and unfulfilled dreams turned my stomach, and almost ruined the night. I wished I hadn’t seen it, because it reminded me that the show was a fantasy, while it was my aching feet and the roadies’ boredom and the groupies’ hard desperation that constituted real life. As I stood watching the limo pull away and the unsexy women stand about, licking their wounds, looking for a ride to the next city and another chance, I felt as if a door had been kicked open a crack on to a world I knew nothing about: the seamy underbelly of the concertgoing experience, a mix of sex and power and exploitation, of cigarettes and poorly applied make-up and long, cold nights waiting to be noticed and defining yourself by someone else’s attention. If that was grown-up life, I didn’t want to know about it. I wanted the champagne toast, but not the limo. Not yet.

Fan Stories

“I had just turned 16 a few weeks earlier. I was absolutely 100% in love with Queen (since age 13 when first hearing Killer Queen on the radio) and therefore could hardly believe my sister's friend, who worked with her at the Roy Rogers restaurant at the mall, who said she knew Freddie Mercury's girlfriend, Mary, and that she was going to get a backstage pass and would try to get one for us as well. Well, just before the concert she met my sister at a pre-arranged point (inside the venue) and said that she was unable to get us the backstage passes. You can imagine my disappointment and my thinking at this point that this girl was not telling the truth about knowing Freddie's girlfriend (it seemed too good to be true to me to begin with). Then after the concert, which was great of course, we were depressed (my sister and I - but especially me) at not getting to meet them, so we decided to wait for their limo to come out of the underground parking area at the Capital Centre. When it emerged we got so excited we decided to sprint to our big blue station wagon and follow them. With my learner's permit only, I followed them at probably over 80 miles per hour - I remember it being the fastest I had ever driven but I was determined not to lose them - to a restaurant somewhere in DC. At that age, I didn't have my bearings around the city. We didn't want to freak them out so I think we just watched them go inside from our car. Then we ended up waiting outside in the cold air for I think around 2 hours - anyway - enough to turn my nose red and make my lips and toes numb. We weren't allowed in the restaurant - and there was a bouncer from Liverpool out front that prevented us from even going in the lobby to warm up. At one point Roger came down the stairs into the lobby and I smiled at him and he smiled back and started over to the door - but was stopped by another man who grabbed his arm. So then he just continued downstairs to the bathroom, and ignored us when he went back up the stairs. When they finally emerged from the restaurant, I was frozen in more ways than just the temp. Brian said, "It's a bit cold out here". One of them (I don't know who because I think I was in shock) said, "So, were you at the concert?" And we said yes. My friend who was hardly a Queen fan grabbed the attention for herself by shouting "That was the best concert I've ever seen!" or some such thing. I was so embarrassed not being able to think of anything to say in my stunned condition. Freddie looked at me briefly then looked over at my sister. He nodded at my sister but he never stopped walking to the limo. Brian walked over to me and said something like, "Did you enjoy the concert?" and I think I mumbled something like, "Yes. It was fantastic." Then all I could think to say was "Can I have your autograph?" He said "Sure" and ended up giving me the autograph and his pen. So I had to tap him on the arm to get his attention to give him his pen back. "Here's your pen." Can you imagine - here I am meeting my idols and all I can say is this? This all happened within about 20 or 30 seconds it seemed, and they all got into the limo quickly - they seemed pretty tired. I can't remember if they had one or two limos. All four of the members were there and I think a couple of other men - probably manager and driver(s). Freddie didn't say anything, just acknowledged us without a smile and got into the limo. John did the same. I remember thinking Brian was pretty tall. I stood very close to him. I am almost 5 foot 9 and he towered above me it seemed. Of course the hair probably added several inches! The best part of the story I guess is that my sister's friend, the one who knew Mary, said that when the band got back to the hotel they said there were some "nice working girls" waiting outside the restaurant. I guess they thought we were older - we were only 16 and 17 and still in high school of course. We were dressed very conservatively and with long coats.

My sister's co-worker said that she was good friends with Mary, because their families had been neighbors, and so was happy to get to visit with her. Also she said she thought that Freddie was the nicest member of the group, but very shy.” - Donna13

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 4/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Hey, guys! So I realised I forgot to explain the idea behind this story. This is part of a series I'm working on called 'Head in the Clouds' - stories that are inspired by the music of Joji. This story is loosely based off the music video for 'Gimme Love'. I couldn't make sense of the actual video cause it goes by so fast (if you watch it you'll see what I mean), but I kind of have an idea.

Thanks for listening to my TEDtalk.

Major Trigger warnings: Dementia, death, grief, homophobic slurs

-_-_-_-

2003

"Brianna, could you come here?"

I put my pen down on the kitchen table, not really minding that Grandpa was interrupting me. The studying was tiring, if anything.

Walking into his room, I found him getting up from his desk.

"Hey, Grandpa," I said.

"Brianna, do me a favour, baby. Could you read me this one chapter?" He asked, retreating to his bed.

Bit of an odd request for him. "Why? What's up?"

I picked it up, one of the many books that delved into the science and possibility of the existence of parallel universes.

"I'm just...finding it kind of hard to concentrate." He laughed to himself. He made a groaning sound as his back hit the bed.

I sat by him and read about 3 chapters before he said, "that'll do. Thanks, honey."

I got up and moved to the desk, briefly glancing at the front cover, at the main character with his telescope. Far off memories flashed in my brain. I put the book down, turning to face him.

"What are you smiling at, honey?" Grandpa asked, a smile appearing on his own face.

"I just...remember the night you told Jujubee and me about 'the other world'. We haven't stopped talking about it since." I admitted, putting the book back on his desk. "And we'd always play these games like we were there. Our lives would be so different. And just a little bit better."

"And then you found yourself wanting that in reality." Grandpa finished for me.

I was silent, but he knew he was right. "It's not that I didn't appreciate what I already had. It's just...whenever my anxiety was surfacing, or whenever someone was mean in school, or whenever I thought of my parents, I'd just...want to escape." I sat down in the chair next to his bed again, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it reassuringly. "Didn't you ever feel the same?"

Grandpa breathed out a sigh through his nose, his smiling widening. "Brie, of course, I have. All the games you and Juju played, it's called escapism. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Wouldn't you ever try to find one?"

"Find what?"

"I don't know. A door? A gateway to the other world?"

He didn't even need to tell me 'yes.' He had spent many years reading the books, sometimes reading them more than once, making notes and coming up with his own theories. He probably felt the same way I did. In darker times, when things didn't feel like they'd get any better, he was curious about his other-self.

I knew the answer was yes. But I liked hearing him talk about these things.

"Baby, it's something I've always wanted to do. I always...wanted to know if it was possible...to slip into that other world, find this house, and just hope and pray my wife would still be on the other side of that door. I'd kiss her hand and bring her back here. And, life would be complete." He confessed. His smile was sweet but also sad, "But you know, with old age comes difficulties. My brain ain't what it used to be. Just all these words. Sometimes, they're...foreign to me."

This was the beginning of a long year. All the signs started out small, usually, Grandpa looking out the window wondering when his wife would come back from the store and losing the ability to read.

And over time, it slowly began to escalate, getting worse with each month. So bad to the point he'd take his seat belt off at a red light and try to get out. Or he'd shout at Mom, saying she's going the wrong way. Every piece of my Grandpa was slipping away.

And it was all taking a toll on my own happiness.

"You look pretty today." Jujubee commented as we walked through the hallway.

"If you say so." That was all I could reply with.

"No, really. Your hair looks really cute like that." She tried again.

I had no idea what she was talking about. I literally pinned two pieces from the front to the back of my head. It was a half-assed attempt of trying to convince everyone I gave a fuck anymore.

"Yeah, right, Juju. I look no better than I did yesterday. Or the day before. And the day before that.

Jujubee paused for a moment, whereas I continued on. "Are you OK?"

I turned to look at her. "Yeah." I lied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I wasn't ready for this, Jujubee concerns. The truth was I never told her about my Grandpa because then she'd want to talk about it, then I'd cry, then I'd probably go home and have a breakdown, then I'd give Mom more shit to worry about.

Judging from her knit brows, she wasn't buying it. Before she could even ask anything else, I turned back around, just wanting to get on with things and get to my next class on time. But Trevor just had to be there. He knocked me hard on the shoulder, making me drop my books and almost fall to the ground.

He quickly spun around, watching me collect my books. "Man, who put that trash there?"

I glanced at him with a scorn.

"Hey, douchebag," Jujubee stepped in front of Trevor, "I can see you're a little butt-hurt now that your sex life is dryer than a nuns vagina."

My eyes were wide now, knowing that wouldn't sit well.

"What did you fucking say to me?" Trevor raised a brow.

"You heard." Jujubee said with such spite. "Why don't you go rub one out to your Mom or something? Stop projecting all your problems onto my girl?"

Trevor scoffed a laugh. "Your girl? What are you, a couple of dykes?"

My jaw was almost on the ground. I looked around, noting the students observing as they passed by. I couldn't let them know my secret. I couldn't.

"Why? Does that make us all the more interesting?" Jujubee squinted her eyes. "Honey, don't pretend the thought of us 'dykes’ making out doesn't make an insecure guy like you hard."

A sound emitted from my throat - A panicked sound. Like a yell, one that was dragging its way up my throat, fighting to get out. The attention of everyone around was on the situation, since when? I had only become aware now of the sounds of thrill and excitement. I was internally panicking. How many people were there? Were they even looking at me?

"Not in your wildest dreams, honey." Trevor practically spat the last word before deciding he was finished. He turned and walked away.

Jujubee approached me, rolling her eyes. "God, does he know when to quit?"

But I just stared at her, pretty sure I was trembling. My eyes were still wide, and my jaw stiff.

"Brie?" She blinked.

I could feel it, the lump in my throat beginning to form, like a hard stone that was lodged in place. Blinking a few times, I held the books tighter to my chest and turned to walk away.

"Brianna, what the fuck?" Jujubee came after me.

"Juju, just...leave me the fuck alone." My voice cracked as I quickened my pace.

She didn't follow me anymore. Thank fuck. Because next thing I knew, I was in a bathroom cubicle, quietly crying. I stupidly decided to not go to class. I say stupidly because, during the last period, Denali leaned over and told me she thought they suspended me. When I asked why she would even think that, she said the rumours spread fast, that I had punched Jujubee.

Oh, high school drama.

Of course, Jujubee didn't deserve this. She was only doing her friendly duty and looking out for me. But I didn't need any more shit from Trevor. I didn't want all those eyes on me as I walked the corridors. My home life was already too much.

I wanted to hold on to my Grandpa for as long as I could. But seeing his health dwindle, it felt like someone was coming to get him. And no matter how much I wanted to hold on, they were going to take him away no matter what.

Around 7 months in, his immune system was beginning to fail. He was bedridden.

I'd sit with him for at least an hour every day, either reading to him, feeding him, or just having a long talk. I had a tendency to write down at least one sentence from each conversation like it would provide me with some comfort, like he was still there. When in reality he was...he was...

"Why the sad face, baby?"

I snapped out of my trance, blinking a few times as I looked at him. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"What happened? Did someone break your heart?" He asked, following it up with a laugh.

I let myself smile. "No, thank God. I'm just sleepy. I had a long day at school."

"That's a shame. I was gonna suggest we break out the old telescope. I bet we'd find Cassiopeia if we tried hard enough."

My mouth formed a hard line, unsure of how to respond. As much as I wanted so badly to sit out in the garden with him, he wouldn't even be able to make it there.

"You sure you're OK, Brianna?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking." I looked away, studying my nails instead.

"Well, if it's not a heartache, I bet someones caught your eye?" He asked with a smirk.

I couldn't help but allow the corners of my lips to curve up. "Yeah, actually."

"Oooh." He cooed. "And what are they like?"

I thought for a second, debating how I should answer. To be honest or not. If I lied, would it even make a difference?

Looking at his innocent face, I decided fuck it.

"Sweet. Beautiful. The bluest eyes I've ever seen." I paused. "She's an absolute angel."

Grandpa was silent momentarily. But just as the nerves were beginning to surface, he replied, "and does she know how you feel?"

"No."

"Well, why don't you let her know?"

I took a deep breath in. "Because...I don't know if she likes me back. I don't know if she even likes girls."

"All you can do is try."

"It's not that simple," I spoke quietly. "She's...popular. She's beautiful. She's...everything that I'm not."

My eyes drifted to my hands once again. If I cried, would it even matter? Wouldn't he forget?

"Don't say that about yourself, honey." He reached a hand out and put it on mine. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

I lifted my gaze again, looking at him with glossy eyes. My silence spoke volumes.

"Oh, no, Brianna." He said with such disappointment. "I can't believe you feel that way. Ain't you ever stopped to look at yourself?"

"No," I whispered. "I can't stand it."

"You need to. Because you are prettier than you know." His own eyes were glistening now. "You may not believe me, but someday you're gonna meet someone who will show you."

I dabbed the inner corner of my eye, "You really think that?"

"I know."

"That means a lot." I smiled.

He gave one final pat to my hand and pulled it away. "Do me a favour, honey. Could you get me some juice?"

"Sure."

I stood up and left for the kitchen.

On my way, I passed through the hall, catching a glance at my reflection. Naturally, I would have disregarded it. But I stopped and stood in front of it. And I just looked.

I wasn't immediately satisfied. But upon taking my glasses off, my opinion changed. I learned pretty quickly my eyes were the best from my facial features.

I smiled. Best not. My frown was oddly alluring. I tried smiling again, this time with teeth. But the braces just ruined the mood.

Putting my glasses on again, I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt tiny paws tap my feet. Of course, it was just Piggie. I scooped him up and looked at both of us together.

"God has favourites, Piggie. Take a wild guess out of us two who it is." I looked at his face in the mirror.

He cocked his head, looking at his own reflection like he couldn't figure out what was going on.

I carried on to the kitchen with Piggie still in my arms, poured the juice and made my way back to Grandpa's room.

I pushed open the door with my foot.

Grandpa's head quickly shot up as I walked in.

"Sorry it took so long. I - -"

"Who are you??"

I froze on the spot. "It's me."

"Roberta! Roberta, there's somebody in the fucking house!!"

My brain went into panic mode. I set the juice to the side, put Piggie out into the hall and approached the bed.

He was continuously shouting, thrashing around in the bed as if to escape. I tried grabbing his hands, reassuring him it was me, his Grandchild. We had literally just been talking.

But he only roared over the sound of my voice, trying to fight my hands off him.

"Pop! It's OK!" Mom rushed into the room. "It's just Brianna!"

I took a step back, letting her take control. He stared at me with an intense level of fear. What did he think I was going to do? Who did he think I was?

"Brie, go to your room or something. I'll calm him down." Mom commanded with a crack in her voice.

With a wavered breath, I left. The sounds of his shouts, I couldn't bear it. I had to get away, even for a little bit. I needed out.

I hurried out the front door, stuffing my arms inside my jacket sleeves, and marched down the path. I didn't even look back at the colourful house. I just wandered. Wherever my feet were going to take me, I'd be fine.

In a sense, I felt cruel, like I was selfish. Despite wanting to be around my Grandpa for as long as possible, I couldn't stand moments like these. But you'd think dealing with this for so long would have toughened me up a bit.

Not even in the slightest.

There I was, marching down the street, trying hard not to have an episode. I tried to maintain my breathing, but the fast pace in my step didn't help. My hands were clammy, not that having them in my pockets helped.

Again, I had no idea where I was going. My eyes remained fixated on the ground. Therefore I was oblivious to the person hastily approaching.

"Brianna, Jesus!"

Jujubee now stood in front of me with her hand on my shoulder. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"I said your name like 5 times, girl." Jujubee dropped her hand. Her eyes looked me up and down, "What happened? You're shaking."

I was?

"I…" I tucked a strand of hair behind my hair, "I need a cigarette or something."

Jujubee dragged me to the bus shelter, sat me down on the ground like we were still children, parking our behinds wherever the fuck we wanted.

Despite the feeling of anxiety burning my insides, I did spark up a cigarette, anything to shift my thoughts from the current state of my family. Just something normal.

"Girl, are you sure that's a good idea right now?" Jujubee was itching to snatch it from my hand and toss it.

Instead, I said, "Jujubee?"

"Yeah?"

Eyes still glued to the ground, I blinked, "This is it. He's dying."

Jujubee didn't even need to ask. She knew about his dementia for months now. I had no choice but to tell her. The stress from it all got too much, and I was becoming more and more irritable. It was unfair to put her through that. I had to tell her everything.

Jujubee shuffled closer, "What happened?"

I couldn't bring myself to even tell her. Words couldn't even begin to describe the feeling. That feeling of just grabbing him by the hand, and running away as far as possible, so this sickness would just leave us alone.

I blew out a long cloud of smoke, closing my eyes as I let my chest deflate.

There was something about this moment in time. 9PM, at the bus shelter, sitting on the cold ground, smoking a cigarette, Jujubee by my side, her hand now in mine. It didn't feel real. None of it did.

Yet this wasn't foreign to me - This bus stop was the same one from my childhood, that day when baby Blair and I hid from the rain. Funny how the younger version of myself thought I was protecting her from her abusive father.

As bad of a time it was, the thought was comforting in the current moment, sitting there with Blair. The only problem I faced those days was my emotional outbursts and the emotional toll they took on my Mom. Oh, how naive I was, completely unaware of how life could get any harder.

Only 3 weeks later, Grandpa was hospitalised, his immune system reaching its lowest point. I visited him every day after school. There were more moments of forgotten memory, but it made it less frightening with Mom by my side.

One day in particular, however, he seemed in better spirits. It was as if the old him was back, just for a few hours.

"I'm going to the soda machine. You want anything, baby?" Mom stood up from her chair, pulling her purse from her bag.

"I'm good." I gave her a gracious smile.

She nodded, taking another look at my Grandpa before she even moved to the door. I could see the reluctance behind her eyes. She did this every time she left the room, no matter where she was going.

My eyes followed her as she left. Grandpa spoke, "Now that she's gone, any update on that girl?" He asked. I looked back in surprise. How he had remembered that was mind-blowing. He continued, "we haven't had a one-to-one conversation in a long time, honey. Give me an update."

I breathed a sigh out, lifting my brows briefly. "Nothing has become of it, no."

"Go get her, kiddo. You've got nothing to lose."

I smiled sadly. Easier said than done, Grandpa.

He coughed. "Lord, I'd love a cigarette right about now. Do me a favour, though; please stop smoking."

I wasn't completely shocked. He had noticed on a few occasions that he was down a cigarette. "I will." I wasn't lying. But I wasn't making any promises either.

"Brianna?" Grandpa looked at me now.

"Yeah?" I put my feet up on his bed, leaning back in my chair.

"Promise me one thing?"

"Of course."

His eyes remained on me, and he smiled briefly. "Promise me that you'll find a way to the other world. Could you do that for me?"

I had to admit, It was a huge thing to ask of someone like me. It was terrible to say, but I couldn't help but feel this was sort of selfish. Yes, he was on the brink of death, but how could he expect me to be such a miracle worker.

Instead of protesting, however, I just said, "Sure."

Two days later, he passed away.

I didn't cry at all, vowing that I would remain strong for Mom. I had already had my turn at grieving my own parents. And she was by my side for all of that.

Now it was my turn to be there for her. Throughout the whole funeral, I had my arms wrapped around her shoulders, like she had done for me throughout the years. It was a strange feeling - being the one to take care of her for a change. Her head on my chest, hand squeezing mine, it was just so hard to accept.

I almost thought she was going to crumble when they lowered his casket into the ground.

As I said before, there are two types of people in this world; those who hate the sight of their Mother crying and fucking liars.

Because, even though she was my Mother, she was his little girl. And losing a parent is losing a huge part of your life.

Everyone was invited back to the house after the funeral in the hopes the togetherness would lighten the mood.

Of course, it didn't fix everything, but it did allow us some time to breathe.

"You OK, Brianna?" Aunt Monét asked as I handed her some tea.

"I'm fine." Obviously, that was a lie.

I really did think I was doing everyone a favour by putting up the strong front. Little did I know the toll this would take on my own emotional well being. That whenever Grandpa came up in conversation, I'd run. If only I had realised that sooner.

I was afraid of questions like Monét had asked. So school would be a nightmare. Thankfully I was granted 2 weeks off.

The first week I lay in bed, watching box sets of The X Files. Pretty sure I almost gave myself a bladder infection from just laying there too long.

The second week, I finally decided to stop lying around and be useful. Mom recommended I break out the telescope one night. So I invited Jujubee over. I warned her beforehand that she was not to ask me any concerning questions or treat me any different. Of course, she was different with me. But she didn't ask any questions. We just carried on, looking up at the stars through the telescope.

The same week, I also found myself sitting in his room, feeling his presence very much there with me. So I took to reading his books out loud in the hopes I could keep his spirit entertained.

However, I only became interested in the books myself. I read one book. Then another. And another. And another. Fiction and non-fiction. All based on parallel universes. I couldn't get enough of it.

And reading turned into studying - taking notes, hypothesising, questioning.

And then I got Jujubee interested. Just 4 weeks after beginning, it was more than just a hobby. It was a prospect.

-_-_-_-

2020

"Miss. Caldwell. Miss Caldwell, ma'am."

I snapped back to reality, embarrassed that I had even blacked out at all. You'd think I'd know there were more important things at stake, now that I was in the presence of the Secretary of Defence, at a meeting in the middle of an almost empty hangar. Everyone around me, my team included, were important people. I needed them to believe I was on the same level as they were.

"Yes, the atmosphere of the other world," I said, hoping he would think I was listening.

"We're beyond that point now, actually." The General pointed out, standing with his hands behind his back. I couldn't lie. I felt intimidated by him, what with the uniform and all.

I glanced at his black badge, which matched mine. Did that mean I was a general like him now? Were we even on the same level? 'Cause when I woke up that morning, I tripped over my own feet and almost hit my head off the ground. I couldn't be on this guy's level.

"I asked if this place would be big enough for the construction of the rocket." He asked.

I looked around at the wide space. Yeah, it was huge, but when it came to constructing a rocket, that was all beyond me. Sure, it would probably take a good 3 minutes to walk from one end to the other. But was it high enough? I had no idea what I could even say to this guy. "Yeah, it's good."

I hoped it would be good.

"Then it's yours." He gave a quick smile. It didn't make me feel any less intimidated. He began pointing out different sections of the place, a small lab in one corner, offices in another, along the left wall was a cafeteria, and 4 sets of surprisingly clean bathrooms.

All this space, it was mine. And only an hour after the meeting with the General, we were already shipping equipment over.

"This is wild. You could fit two concert halls in here." Jujubee slipped an arm around my shoulders, the pair of us watching as a truck pulled into the hangar, carrying more gear.

I blew a sigh of relief out through my mouth. "I just can't believe this is happening. Like, why me, of all people? When do good things ever happen like this? Like, didn't I always say 'why do bad things happen to good people?'"

Jujubee laughed, "girl, good things DO happen to you. You have a luxury apartment in New York, you're filthy rich, you're a celebrity." She playfully punched me in the arm.

"Well, you're not wrong." I shrugged.

"You deserve every bit of this." She turned to get a better look at me. "You fought for so long to get people on board with this project. You continued on when people doubted you when they laughed. I think you deserve good things to happen to you."

I smiled bashfully, looking to the ground for a brief moment, "Aw, Juju," looking back to her, she lifted a hand and held my cheek. Naturally, I would have shied away, but not now. At this moment, I absolutely adored this bitch. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"I know. You've told me." She pinched my cheek before looking away.

Her hand fell by her side, so I took it in mine. "No, really. You think I would have continued without you here? You remember all those times I wanted to give up? All the times you called me out on my bullshit?"

"Hey, somebody had to do it." She shrugged in return yet swung my hand.

"That's very true." I looked at her for a moment longer. Only now did I notice the way her lashes fluttered when she blinked, how cute that was.

Her eyes moved around the large space again. "Think we could fit a Starbucks in here?"

I pulled my gaze away from her, also having another look around. "Girl, you could fit fucking 10 Starbucks in here." I raised a brow in her direction then. "Should I?"

She laughed as she continued to swing my hand like we were just children again. Honestly, that's what I felt like; A small child in her own Kingdom.

[izzyfandoms]

Okay so I had an au idea this morning and since I have too many ideas I decided not to write it and instead I'm just gonna make a (hopefully not too long) post about it. It features Moxiety and Intruloceit.

-Okay so it starts with a typical zombie apocalypse, though I'm gonna make it so you only turn when infected, so not everyone who dies turns into one because those ones can never really have happy endings

-Our main characters are Virgil Nicholas and Patton Foster, a couple who both work at a child care centre thing (idk what theyre called) that take care of kids up to twelve years old while they're parents are at work

-When the zombie outbreak hits their area (it hit other parts of the country first, and spread quickly), most of the kids were picked up by their parents, and most of the adults left to figure out what was going on, to drop children home, or they just ran away, leaving Virgil, Patton and about a dozen children - including ten-year-old Roman Prince (the eldest of the remaining children), eight-year-old Thomas Sanders, five-year-old Remy Starlight (the youngest) and six-year-old Toby Month.

-They spend the first few days hiding in the centre, having locked and boarded all doors and windows to the outside, eating the food they had left and listening to the radio for updates. The power went out after the first two days and the phones and computers ran out of charge quickly

-Sometimes there's banging and groans from the outside, sometimes even screams, and the group just huddles up together, half the kids are crying and Virgil and Patton have to keep shushing them until the noises are gone

-It's terrifying, and, though Virgil is 99% certain that it's zombies, Patton is adament that it's something small and that everything will be fixed soon.

-However, they run out of food after a few days, so Virgil (despite Patton's protests) goes out to the nearby grocery store to nab some more food for the kids

-There's a terrifying hour of waiting and kids crying that they're hungry and Patton's trying to calm them down and tell them stories

-Virgil returns eventually with a stolen shopping cart filled to the brim with food. He's covered with goop and blood and is shaking.

-He and Patton take the food to the kitchen (leaving Roman in charge temporarily as he's the youngest)

-Virgil reveals that it is in fact a zombie apocalypse and that he didn't see any other survivors in town. He then reveals that he thinks he should go back to the shop and get the rest of the food that he can get so it doesn't get raided first. They get into an argument about it, but in the end they spend the next few days raiding all the nearby shops for food, supplies and weapons (that they keep out of the littlest kids' reach)

-The next month or so passes with minimal incidents

-A rather large horde of zombies passes through at one point, and it's a terrifying day of waiting it out and hoping they don't break the doors down - because they could have, there were enough of them - and they consider themselves lucky to have survived that

-Half the kids catch a stomach bug at one point, and Virgil and Patton are terrified that something'll go wrong, but it ends up okay (they got medicine from a local pharmacy, but don't want to risk using the wrong ones or running out)

-There were also at least three instances of children threatening to run away because they want to find their families, but those are pretty easy to deal with (Patton may not know zombies, but he knows childcare)

-At one point Roman asks to learn how to use a gun just in case cos he's the oldest of the kids and it's heartbreaking but Virgil teaches him

-They spend most of their time cheering the kids up by telling stories, some of them fiction and some of them from the past

-Patton talks about his parents and his younger brother Dorian, who he hasn't seen in years (they drifted apart and Dorian probably didn't get along with their parents)

-The kids also talk about their families (they cry a lot, but it's nice to share and talk about)

-Roman talks about his own older brother Remus, who he didn't see much (he too didnt get along with their parents) but misses very much

-Sad times all around, but they all get super close because of it and Virgil and Patton basically end up like all the little kids' parents

-Anyway back to the main plot

-A bit over a month passes since the zombie apocalypse started, and they've got a pretty decent thing going on

-One day, they're all having story time in the main room, when they suddenly hear footsteps in the hallway

-They all go silent and Patton and Virgil stand protectively in front of the kids with guns

-The door opens and oh plot twist Patton's brother Dorian walks in,,, along with Roman's brother Remus

-Patton and Roman shout their brothers' names in unison and run up to them and there's tears and crying

-Patton's first reaction is 'what the heck' and Roman's first reaction is 'what the fuck' and Remus laughs but Patton scolds him

-Virgil then pretty much repeats the 'what the fuck' (partly cos it makes the kids giggle) and is like 'okay how did you even FIND us'

-Turns out Dorian has been looking for Patton for like Weeks (Remus assumed Roman was with his parents and is lowkey heartbroken to find that Roman's been here the whole time) cos the last time they brothers saw each other was before Patton got the job

-He ended up going back to search their parents house. Their parents weren't there but he found a pic at Patton's apartment. Took him a while to find it but when he did he found a pic of the daycare and went there and there they are.

-Patton and Roman's families have lived in this area their whole lives which is how Dorian and Remus know each other. Also they're dating and have a third boyfriend named Logan Picani. Logan lives with his brother on their parent's farm and is one of those people who've been preparing for the apocalypse for months.

-Dorian reveals Logan's existence before revealing that he and Remus are dating, he basically says 'yeah my other boyfriend lives on a farm its amazing for long term survival against zombies' (but he says it fancier than that)

-Virgil (he's met Dorian before) and Patton's reactions are basically:

Patton: other boyfriend?

Virgil: you're fucking a farmer?

-That almost starts a conversation where tiny Remy asks what fucking is and Remus (who is now holding Roman and will not let go) can not stop laughing

-Patton looks just about ready to choke Virgil and NOT in the kinky way. He doesn't though he's sweet like that

-Anyway Remus and Dorian drove a van here (it's the one Logan's family used to use to transport stuff to sell (it's just him and his brother Emile left though)) so they just about manage to stuff all of them plus as much rations as possible inside

-They make it to the farm and it's got like metal fences and a big gate and yeah Logan's 100% be preparing for the apocalypse for years

-But it wasn't just the whole 'paranoid scientist' (oh yeah he's a scientist) thing, he's actually been hearing of scientists trying to resurrect the dead for a while now and it was going weirdly and he didn't like the sound of that so he was preparing

-The farm has chickens, sheep, horses and bees as well as vegetables and a pond and stuff it used to have a ton of farm hands but like they all left to find their families so it was just Logan, Emile (Logan's brother) and Logan's boyfriends (Dorian and Remus ofc) tending the farm since the apocalypse

-Also Logan's been stockpiling a ton of books with information needed to do all kinds of useful things

-Basically they all make it to the farm and it's all happy and they're safe and they can actually raise the kids properly with a good food and water supply. They set up a makeshift schooling system (Logan has so many books and they go back for the rest of the daycare stuff at some point and they raid so many librarys)

-What I'm saying is that they live happily ever after despite the tragedy that is the zombie apocalypse

-I mean if people don't automatically turn into zombies after death then the zombies will eventually rot away and die and it'll be just humans left and it'll be all good

-And I suppose you could make this angsty and add some bad shit happening but I'm not gonna for once lol

[charliesworkshop]

Pairing: Loki x fem!Reader

Song of the day: Hurts - Something I Need To Know

Chapter warnings: angst, a lot of angst tbh, cheating if you squint, imma say abusive relationship just so there won't be any surprises

AN: Series of smutty / angsty fics inspired by songs by the band Hurts. Mostly angsty, because I'm a sucker for pain.

Reader is an Avenger with the power to create and control fire, and as they say, opposite attracts, so Loki takes interests in her.

MASTERLIST 🌹

Loki had a lot of patience. He just didn't like to use it, not when it was about things he really wanted. In this case he wanted to know what the fuck was going on between you and him.

You've been on one date so far, if you can call watching a movie and drinking whisky in the Avnegers' Tower a date.

You've shared few kisses, stolen in those rare moment when you've been left alone, hasty and innocent, nothing more than two pairs of uncertain lips brushing against each other.

But it was enough for his heart to quicken its pace whenever he thought of your soft, warm lips on his. The memory of your taste lingering in his mind long after you've left.

He assumed everything was going well, but then you suddenly stopped texting him back, ignored all his calls, and it's been almost a week since the two of you talked.

It would be much easier if you lived in the tower, but you were politely refusing moving in every time someone suggested it, jokingly saying that you didn't pay hell of a price for your own place only to abandon it after two years.

But it wasn't that hard to find out where you lived, it only took few hours of convincing and a promise to his brother that he won't do anything stupid or irresponsible with that information, and Thor asked Stark about it.

Gathering enough courage to actually go and see you was entirely different story. He really wanted to talk, to understand why you acted like this, but on the other hand, he had no rights to violate your privacy like that.

It was eating him alive, though, the fear that he did something wrong, that he somehow offended you, was creeping underneath his skin, present in his every breath, thought, beat of his heart. He was scared he's hurt you in some way, that he made you leave him.

It took him two days to finally snap. Whatever the truth was, he needed to know, for the sake of his sanity. And it was obvious you were hiding something from him.

It was Friday evening when he decided he's ready to talk to you, he was drinking Asgardian mead Thor brought from home, going through everything he said and did around you, and he couldn't find a single reason why would you ignore him.

He was tired of suspicions, tired of wondering why.

So he ordered a cab and went to see you in your flat in Hell's Kitchen, so sure of what he's going to say, so sure...

Until you opened the doors, dressed in an oversized sweater and nothing more, your hair messy, mascara smudged around reddened eyes, eyelashes still clumped with tears that already dried on your cheeks.

And all words escaped him in a split second, his heart dropping to his stomach, heavy, drumming, aching.

"It's really not a good time," you spoked in hoarse voice, barely above whisper, but it cut through air like a whip.

"Is it... Is it because of me?" He would rip his heart out if he was the reason of your misery.

"Why...? No, no," you stammered looking everywhere but his face, "I'll explain everything, just... Tonight isn't a good time," you repeated this like a mantra, hoping that will be enough to make him go away. But the look on his face was telling you it won't work.

"Y/n, I need to know, please..." He was ready to beg you for an explanation, but then his gaze fell upon a bag lying on the floor next to a couch, overflowing with clothes.

Male clothes.

"What's going on?" His firm voice made you shudder, your shoulders slumped even more and you looked like if you wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole.

You knew he noticed, and there was nothing you could say to make things better. So you remained silent, gaze fixed on his shoes, your eyes filling with tears again.

No one was supposed to know about this, about your stupid ex who didn't want to leave your flat for weeks now. Especially not Loki.

You planned on telling him about Derek, but after you're finally free from him, after you fix the mess of this horrible break up.

"Do you... Are you in a relationship with someone else, y/n?" You could hear the hurt in his voice, how he swallowed hard, it's must have been really difficult for him to ask this.

"Not anymore... We broke up two weeks ago for good," you answered honestly, a sigh leaving your trembling lips as you looked up at him.

It was over. You couldn't hide it anymore and Loki deserved better, much better. All of his emotions were written on his pale face, paler than usual, more tired and troubled, you noticed.

You knew what's going to happen next, so his outburst didn't surprise you. But it didn't hurt less just because you were prepered.

"Two weeks...? Two weeks?!" You stepped back, watching him with fear as he stalked you, closing the gap between you two, until you had nowhere else to run, back of your legs hitting the armrest of the couch. "You want to say you were with someone else when I kissed you for the first time?! How could you...?"

He knew he was probably overreacting, and that it was the alcohol speaking, but he was angry at you. He couldn't wrap his finger around what was going on in your head at that time when he kissed you for the first time, and then the second, and then another... And you were always kissing him back, despite having a boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, Loki... I didn't want to hurt you... I just didn't know how to tell you..."

"I wanted to know the truth, it's my fault," he laughed darkly, almost histerically, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again, trying to calm down, to build a wall between you and him, his hurt feelings, and sarcasm was his way to do it. "I can't believe I actually thought I did something wrong."

"I know you're angry, but let me explain, please..." You wanted to make him understand, but it'd be very hard without telling him all the details of your previous relationship, without admitting how fucked up it was, how much you wanted to escape it. To the point that when Loki made a move... you didn't fight it.

"What, y/n? What do you want to explain? I already know everything," he half snarled, half laughed at you, and you could feel hot tears stinging your eyes.

"I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up, I know..." your throat was tight as you fought the tears, the clearly audible crack in your voice threatening to break your ability to speak. But you swallowed the lump in your throat, bravely looked up at his face, and continued, "You have all rights to be angry, but just listen..."

"You cheated on your boyfriend with me, y/n," he interrupted you once again, and suddenly, you got angry as well, "Prove me wrong."

You knew he was right, that he was hurt by your actions, by you ignoring him for a week, you really knew and understood... But something about him not listening made you so, so angry in that moment, because he knew the feeling of being misunderstood, he knew how it it feels when no one listens, no one lets you explain.

"I didn't cheat," you snapped at him, all those bottled for weeks feelings finally finding their outlet, and you felt good and bad at the same time, but it was too late to stop, so you continued, "I can't cheat on someone who's never here when I need them. I can't cheat on someone who's just using me as a stress relief and never listens to what I want! You think you know everything..." you smiled with sorrow, your brows knitted, folding arms on your chest, "But the truth is you know nothing about me. And you definitely know nothing about him," you finished with an angry huff, unfolding your arms and walking around Loki to your doors to open them wider. "You should go."

"Y/n, I had no idea," he muttered, turning around to face you, but you've had enough, you've made your mind.

"Yeah, but you decided to judge me anyway, so go. I already told you it's not a good time," your voice was cold, firm, he never heard it before, he didn't even know you were able to sound so aggressively. "He'll be here soon to pick up his shit. I have enough problems without him knowing about you."

You were no longer looking at him, and the entire anger clouding his mind faded away when he noticed how your shoulders trembled under the weight of anger, guilt, and sadness.

"Y/n... I'm sorry... You should've told me..."

"I want you out of my house, I won't repeat myself," you threatened, glancing at him, your eyes flashing red for a second, but you managed to control the fire spreading through your veins, only your fingertips were burning, foreboding flames that were soon to burst out of your clenched fist. "Don't come here again."

He wasn't going to challenge his luck, knowing that with your powers you can easily hurt him very badly, even kill him if you really wanted. So he walked passed you, his lips pursed, as he took in the sight of your broken face.

"I'm sorry," he only said again, and then left you alone, the sound of slamming of your front doors echoing long in his ears.

So after all, he was the one who fucked things up. And only because he didn't listen.

Tag list: @someonekeepstakingmyusernames

So... first of all, sorry it took so long, I'm struggling with a writer's block, but I really wanted to finally finish and post this. It turned out more angsty than I intended, and I promise the next parts are gonna be better. I have no one to check for mistakes and grammar errors, and I typed it on my phone, so I'm sorry if there are any. Dunno when I'll write the next part, hopefully sooner than later. I hope you enjoyed it anyway! <3

[shawnpetermuffins]

I Miss You

A/n: I hope this is good because I put this off for so long wanting to do it justice. And this is based very loosely off I Miss you.

Summary: you two broke up recently, and it's not sitting well with Shawn, even though he's the reason you broke up.

Requested by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: Hi, I recently listened to the song 'I Miss you' (Clean Bandit, Julia Michaels). Maybe you could write a fic based on the song, angsty but with a fluff ending? Thank you... ❤️

***

Kinda_yourname

2,158 likes

Kinda_yourname Cabo sunsets >>>> anything else

•

It may have only been a week, but I'm missing it here! 😭

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I shut my phone off and toss it to the end of the bed. I should have been with her on that trip, but tour got in the way. I got in the way. It's crazy to think that if you asked me three weeks ago, I would have said that my girlfriend and I could overcome any obstacle thrown at us. But ask me again a week later, and I would tell you I was wrong. That being away from her for months at a time was too much for me and I broke it off because I thought it would be what was best for both of us in the end.

Now ask me if I still believe that.

I don't.

I haven't told anyone about us yet. I mean, everyone probably suspects because there haven't been Amy preshow FaceTime calls for good luck, and I'm not texting like a madman during dinner or when we're on our way to the venues. And I know she hasn't said anything to anyone either. How? Because for one, she hasn't blocked me on any social media - I know, I've checked at least ten times just within the last two hours. And two, she hasn't deleted the three pictures of us that she has on her Instagram. They're still there for everyone to see, me included.

Now my fingers are hovering over the keyboard and I'm staring at her name on my phone which is still My Love 😍, and I'll probably never change it. Because she is my love, and to strip her of that title because I'm an idiot just isn't fair.

Hey... I miss you

I type and backspace and type and backspace at least ten times. Because I want to text her. I want so badly to text her, but what if she doesn't want to hear from me? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to. I was the worst. Breaking up with her over the phone, no less because I was hurting being away from her. Never once did it occur to me that, yeah, she was hurting too. Or maybe she's with someone else. Maybe she's found somebody new. I want her happy, sure. But I selfishly still want to be the one that makes her happy.

Y/n I miss you.

I delete it one last time and open my photo gallery. I have an album saved for photos of us. Photos that I never got to post because she wanted to keep us as private as possible without being a secret. Which is why both of us only have 3 photos of each other on our Instagram. One for our six months, a year, and a year and a half. Two more months and we would have had a fourth picture.

I'm swiping through the photos landing on one I took of her when we were flying back to Canada after our first trip together. We're on a private jet because this was before we went public with our relationship. Andrew made sure that we weren't seen together in the airport or anything. She's sitting in the seat across the aisle from me, legs up to her chest, earphones in, head resting on her knees as she smiles brightly at me. There's another one of us curled up together on this tiny chair in a green room in the UK that Andrew sent me. She's literally curled into a ball on my lap, sleeping peacefully and my legs are spread in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around her body, head resting against the back of the seat.

The next one Brian took. We were at my place for a very impromptu new years party. It was just gonna be me and y/n, but she insisted we invite the guys over. And we did. It was one of the best nights of my life. We're watching the ball drop, with her in my lap, arm around my shoulder. I have one arm behind her back, the other on her thigh. I think Brian knew something was going to happen because at ten seconds to midnight he pulled his phone out and captured out first new years kiss. She's holding my face and I'm practically leaning her back against the couch. It looks like I'm seconds away from crawling on top of her, and it be honest, I probably was. She's just too perfect for me to resist.

Then there's one that Josiah took of us just a few months ago at the studio house. I had y/n on the kitchen counter, she was in these jean shorts that I loved her in and a button up that she'd stolen from my suitcase. Not that I was complaining. It looked far better on her than it did on me. I stood between her legs, my hands on her sides, slipping under the shirt a little bit, leaning her hips exposed. Not that either of u cared with her fingers threaded in my hair as casually as they were. My face is blocked by her figure, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I was smiling entirely too wide standing between her legs.

The video that follows knocks the breath out of me. She giggling like crazy, but the camera isn't on her, it's on me. On my back, more specifically. She laughs even more when I wince at the feel of her fingers on my red, raw skin that is now home of her fingernail scratches.

"Baby? What happened to your back?" She asked, amused.

"Don't know," I said, turning to face her, my cheeks still holding a slight blush. "But I think the real question is, what happened to your neck, missy?" I pluck the phone from her hands and turn the camera to her where she's trying to cover her face. I manage, however, to take her hands in my free one and the camera focuses on the flourishing bruises that litter her beautiful neck, my favorite place to rest my head.

I close my eyes, the memory of that night filling my mind. Watching her come down from her high, my face still buried between her legs. The weight and cold touch of her hands as she pulled me up to her, into her, because she needed me closer. I can hear myself murmuring the words 'I love you' all over her skin, still remember the way her back arched when I hit the right spot again and again and her finger ran down my back over and over, once more and she probably would have drawn blood. And I may not be home, but I can smell her on the sheets, that constant aroma of warm vanilla penetrating my nostrils. God, do I miss her.

I'm only making it worse for myself by doing this, I know that. But I should feel bad. I lost the greatest thing in my life and I didn't need to. So I got back to our messages, but instead of going to type a new one, I scroll through, reading through our old texts. There's countless paragraphs of us professing our love for each other. Lots of random pictures sent, most from my side. There's conversations about getting a home together, and a dog. And her telling me how much she loves my family and me telling her how much they love her, how much they ask about her. It's all hitting me too hard right now.

And it doesn't help that im literally sobbing at 2 in the morning, in Paris. The city of love. The place she told me was her favorite trip to ever take with me. Where we stood atop the eiffle tower and I gave her a promise ring, a ring that said I would love her and keep her forever. A promise ring that was now probably in the ocean in Cabo because I tore us apart so easily.

I sit up suddenly, struggling to catch my breath. It takes a few minutes, but I'm able to pull myself out of this empty bed that would only be comfortable with y/n laying next to me. I'm scrambling through the room, picking up the pair of jeans I threw off my body earlier and slipping back into them. I find a torn work out shirt in the bottom of my back and push my head and arms through before throwing my youth hoodie over my already overheated upper body. My passport is sitting in my guitar case, and I grab both things without a second thought. My suitcase trailing behind me.

It's difficult booking a flight and carrying a suitcase and guitar all at once, but I get along just well enough and adjust myself in the lobby while I wait for a taxi. I don't text Andrew until I've made it to the airport and am in my seat on the plane, ready for take off.

Emergency... had to fly home. Promise to make it back in time for the Paris show.

And I turn my phone off before he can text or call me back. Because there isn't a damn thing that he could say that would keep me there in a city that's meant for lovers, when my lover is across the world instead of laying in my arms the way she should be.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know there is someone out there who is better for her. Someone who isn't constantly on the move. Someone who can come home to her every night and help her make dinner. Someone who can cuddle her until she falls asleep when she's having a particularly bad day. I know there's someone who can do those things.

But I also know that he won't love her the way I do. He won't know all the little things that I do. Like how she only uses a blue toothbrush. Always has. And he won't notice the tiny scar that she has on her right middle finger from when we tried to make dinner together one night and she cut herself. He probably won't know that she wakes up at 3:34 every single night, because she hasn't been able to sleep fully and soundly through the night since she was four years old. And he'll mess up the way she likes her tea, using tea bags instead of leaves. (She like the herbal taste that you get when you use the leaves. And she likes when you do two scoops of them, and two scoops of sugar, but just cane sugar, the rock sugar makes it too earthy. And of course, she drinks it on ice because she hates burning her tongue with hot drinks.)

I'm thinking way too much as I get off the plane, reluctantly turning my phone back on only to see texts from just about everyone I know. They're all asking where I am, but I ignore them, because what I'm about to do is far more important than anything they threaten me with. I have to make things right.

Standing in front of this door that I've stood in front of hundreds of times should make me feel at ease. Remembering all the times I had her pressed against the other side of the door because I just couldn't wait to have her all to myself. But if anything, it's making me more nervous. So nervous that my hands are shaking, palms sweating, my breathing is jagged and I know if I don't knock right now I might never get the chance again and I can't lose her for real this time. So without giving myself the chance to rethink, I knock on the door three times and I wait, handing in the pocket of my hoodie.

I wait a solid thirty seconds, which feel like an eternity, before the door finally opens and I see my beautiful girl. Her face is bare, hair only halfway straightened, and she's in those shorts I love and my old Led Zepplin t-shirt.

"Shawn," my name still sounds like heaven spilling from her lips. "What are you doing here?" She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other before standing completely straight.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I sniffled and heard my voice crack with just three words, "I miss you."

"Shawn," she shook her head.

"I tried not to," I insisted, still standing like a fool on her door step. "I swear I did. But I couldn't stop. I looked through all our pictures and texts, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. And I know I have no right to because I broke things off. But I was in Paris and I was miserable because Paris was your favorite place, and that was where I promised to love you forever, and I'm still keeping that promise. I was an idiot," I continue to ramble. "If there's a better word for that, then I'm that too, because I thought it would be easier if I broke things off. This tour was going to be so long and to go that long without each other, I was scared that it wouldn't be enough for you. But it's not what I wanted, y/n. It's not, and I just-"

"Shawn, stop."

I shut my mouth instantly, ready for her to tell me to leave. But what she does instead throws me completely off guard. She pulls me into the apartment and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head deep in my chest.

"I miss you, too." She mumbles and I exhale slowly, only to inhale that scent that I love so much. The scent that is naturally her. She starts to pull away, and even though I don't want her to, I let her but she only leans back enough to take my face in her hands and before I even have time to blink, her soft lips are on mine and I'm whole again.

She's mine again and I'm never letting her go.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel

This took me longer to write than it should have, but I kinda really like it. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you Wednesday for more content! 💙

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

[musicalluna]

what needs, part v

warnings: for unethical medical practices, graphic descriptions of injuries

part iv | part iii | part ii | part i

thank you to @onemuseleft and @samurljackson for their help getting somewhere!

--

"Peter," Steve whispers, and then flinches when that beckons him forward. He makes a noise that can only be called a whimper and backs up again. Clint smoothly releases Steve to step around and intercept Peter before he can get to Steve.

"Hey, why don't you go wait downstairs in your dad's lab?"

"What?" Peter cries, the betrayal stark on his face. "No! I need to be here with—"

"Peter," Clint says again, cutting off his line of sight. His voice lowers, but Steve can't not hear it from this distance. "I know you want to help. I know you do. And I'm not saying you can't. But right now, Steve needs you to not be here."

Peter's eyes are glassy and red from welling tears as he stares at Clint. "But..." he says, and it's so heartbroken that Steve has to dig his fingernails into his own arm to keep from pulling him into a hug. He doesn't deserve it though. Clint's right, Peter doesn't need to see the wreck he's become.

Clint hugs him instead and Steve gets only a bare second of eye contact before he lowers his gaze to the floor. His teeth creak from the force of clenching them together and he swallows rapidly to keep the words behind them.

After what feels like an eternity, Peter shudders and sniffles and shuffles off toward the elevator.

Except just as Clint turns back to Steve, Peter turns as well and he bolts past before anyone can stop him, latching onto Steve and immediately soaking his shirt. "I love you. I'm sorry. I'm not mad. Please be safe. I love you."

Steve barely has time to process it and just as Clint's hand touches Peter's shoulders he lets go and heads for the elevator once more at a quick pace, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched up around his ears. The sound of him stifling his sobs and JARVIS quietly telling him that Jane is waiting for him in Tony's lab are cut off by the doors closing.

Steve huddles there for a frozen eternity, shame and disgust and exhaustion swirling inside like a toxic tornado of every mistake he's ever made until a hand on his arm brings him abruptly back to reality. It's Clint, gently prying up his hand.

Clint looks about as old as Steve supposedly is—and right now he feels every one of those years—but he manages a smile and squeezes Steve's hand. "Come on, let's get this thing off. Post-modern science lab chic is not your style. Let Tony pick out your jewelry in the future okay? He's got questionable taste in ties, but he knows his wrist accessories."

Steve doesn't have anything left to respond to that so he just nods and lets himself be helped to his feet. He doesn't know where they're going, but he really doesn't care either. He just wants everything to stop.

His leg won't take his weight, but Clint doesn't say anything about it, just carefully puts Steve's arm around his shoulders. Bruce snakes an arm around Steve's waist and gingerly cups his ribcage, offering support.

Tony is talking. "Yeah, I'm gonna join the conference call Jane's got going, so— Hey, let me— Real quick. Steve?"

Steve stops and bites his lip against the sigh—or maybe sob—and instead says, "Yeah, Tony?"

"We're going to fix this, okay, sweetheart? You just keep being your usual stubborn self and hold on for me. That's an order, you got that?"

Steve's eyes close and he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it. I love you," he adds, hating how desperate it sounds, but he might not get another chance and he has to— Tony has to know, he has to hear it at least once more because he doesn't always believe it if Steve doesn't say it outright. "I love you. I'm sorry."

"I love you too," Tony says, quiet and sincere and Steve gasps for air, the words like a fist to the gut. "I'll be home soon," he says and the call cuts out.

They start moving again, cautious as they pick their way through the ruin Hulk made of the penthouse.

“I'm— sorry,” Steve manages between labored breaths. “That you...changed.”

Bruce's fingers tighten slightly around his ribs and Steve winces, but he bites his already raw lip and keeps quiet. “Steve,” Bruce says, low and harsh, “shut up.”

It doesn't make Steve feel better, but he doesn't suppose he deserves to anyhow.

The journey down to the lab is a difficult one and Steve's breaths are coming in sobs by the time they get there. He's been injured much worse, he's sure of it, but the exhaustion has made it impossible for him to manage the way he normally might. He's never wished so badly for sleep and it feels like every bit of him is hypersensitive; the light hurts his eyes and Clint and Bruce's hands hurt where they touch him, despite no injuries in those places. Everything is agony.

Knowing that everyone is seeing him like this makes it that much worse.

“Hang on, Cap,” Clint murmurs and he and Bruce help guide him onto the couch in the corner of the lab. Peter and Jane are at one of the benches, heads bent together.

Steve can't help the noise he makes as he sits, pulling the stitches on his ribs and accidentally gripping Bruce's shoulder with his broken fingers.

When he opens wet eyes, Nat is there, kneeling next to him on the couch. He cringes and immediately hates himself for how sad she looks.

“I know you're hurting,” she says as though he hasn't just broken her heart, “we're going to be gentle as we can, but we want to look you over, okay?”

Her hand is just a whisper on his face. He gives her the faintest nod and she kisses his forehead.

That's when Sam and Bruce join them.

“You look like hell,” Sam says. His face pinches when Steve doesn't say anything in reply. He sighs. “Let's have a look at you.”

“All right, Steve,” Bruce says, voice deliberately and carefully steady. “Tell us everything. If something hurts, even a little, you're going to tell us.”

“Everything hurts,” Steve rasps and the three of them exchange a look.

They cut Steve's shirt open so they don't have to put him through the process of removing it, which he's equal parts grateful for and mortified by.

The second they pull the fabric away from his body, Bruce's jaw clenches so hard Steve can see the muscles stand out in his cheeks. Sam's eyes go wide and he sinks down to his knees on the floor at Steve's feet. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” he breathes. Natasha's eyes go dead.

It makes him want to cover back up.

Steve hasn't taken a careful look at himself, but he knows it can't be pretty. There are bruises on the inside of both his elbows and a few needlemarks from the blood they've been taking nearly every day. More on the back of his hands from IVs. He has two six inch cuts between different ribs on either side of his torso, each stitched up with at least fifteen stitches apiece. He has another ten below his bellybutton where they did the exploratory surgery. It shouldn't still have stitches since that was nearly a week ago, but it's healing slowly. There are at least half a dozen spots scattered from his scalp to his toes where he's got two or three stitches where they did some of the larger biopsies. Then there's his broken fingers. The pinkie and middle finger on the right and the ring and pointer on the left—so they could splint them with the neighboring fingers.

That's only the stuff that's left visible marks.

“I see why you said everything hurts,” Natasha says, voice nearly devoid of emotion.

Sam glances up at Bruce as he pulls on a pair of gloves. “You all right?”

“No,” Bruce says, voice reverberating deeper than it should. He jerkily puts on his own pair of gloves. Steve feels wretched for putting them through this.

They each start at either end of his body, inspecting his wounds one by one. Despite his rage, Bruce's fingers are meticulously gentle.

“Well,” Sam says when they meet in the middle, “looks like they did patch him up right at least.”

Bruce snorts darkly. “They weren't expecting Tony to get back for another week or so, they probably thought they could get away with it without him knowing. When Tony sees—”

“When Tony sees what?” comes Tony's voice. Bruce turns toward it and over his shoulder, Steve sees Tony on one of the lab's video screens. He sees the moment Tony spots him and then the way his eyes go wide, horror stealing over his features. “Steve,” he breathes.

Steve's first instinct is to tell Tony he's fine, but he bites down on the words knowing it will only make Tony angry. He can't stand the thought of Tony being angry at him right now.

Tony swallows and looks between Bruce and Sam, his face pale. “Is he— How is he?”

“Fucked up,” Sam says honestly, “but he'll be all right. It looks like they've taken care of the wound sites pretty well.”

“Once we get the cuff off and he gets some rest, I think he'll improve quickly.”

“Then let's figure out how the hell to get it off.”

Peter slinks over as Bruce, Sam, and Natasha go to join Jane by the video display. Steve can see Tony watching him between their bodies, worry etched on his face.

“Can I...sit with you, Dad?”

The backs of Steve's eyes burn. “Of course you can,” he says hoarsely and lifts his hand to draw Peter closer.

Looking relieved, Peter leans over and grabs the blanket on the other end of the couch before sliding carefully down next to Steve, folding his long limbs underneath himself and spreading the blanket out over the both of them. He's careful not to put too much pressure anywhere they touch.

He looks like he could use a hug, but Steve's not sure he won't black out if he tries. Real reassuring, he thinks.

“I'm sorry, Peter,” he says.

Peter gives a one shouldered shrug. “Yeah, you should be. Pretty stupid.”

Steve huffs and then winces.

Peter pulls out his phone and then spritzes his knee with a little bit of webbing, sticking it in place.

Steve makes a noise of disapproval. “Peter. You'll muck up the blanket.”

Peter waves off his concerns. “Dad can get it cleaned. What do you want to watch?”

Honestly, Steve's too exhausted to even consider it. “You choose.”

With a few deft gestures, Peter picks something out and gets it started.

Steve tries to pay attention, if only to keep his mind off his discomfort, but focusing on anything for more than a few seconds at a time takes more effort than he can spare. His hip aches where the bone marrow biopsy needle had gone in and his hands feel like burning stumps at the end of his arms. He can forget about the cuts, but only in between every breath.

Glancing over at where the team is huddled together around a hologram of the cuff around his wrist, Steve hopes they'll figure something out soon. His body is screaming at him to sleep and putting it off just gets harder and harder.

[mysynthfetish]

Um, Yeah.

Well it's damn near March already. What the hell? Where does the time go?

The whole world is in a huff about COVID-19, and here in Japan too, obviously, but people are in full-on freakout mode. First thing they did was go on a panic-buying-spree of masks, like surgical masks, you know, the ones everyone here wears when it's either flu or hay fever season. So, there's a shortage of masks now. "ONE BOX PER CUSTOMER!!" signs at the shops with any remaining stock. For me, the funniest thing is that masks do not prevent the wearer from catching a virus. The seal around the face is not perfect, so guess what, shit don't work. Unless you strap on a military grade chemical warfare motherfucker of a mask, like with the filter cans and shit? Nope. I mean, even the homepage of the WHO where you can find a coronavirus FAQ says so ("BUT THE WHO IS CONTROLLED BY THE UN AND THEY'RE SECRETLY OUT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD SO YOU CAN'T TRUST THAT!!!!" yeah yeah yeah. Shame. On. You). But nahhhh who cares about actually using your head and thinking about how viruses spread. See, the masks work (sorta) when worn by people already infected, as they trap most of the fun stuff ejected by a sneeze or a cough. Not all of it. We can still hope for some fun to be shared among the general populace can we not? Ahhh but it's easier to be a total idiot and follow the herd mentality and panic-buy useless shit. Then there was the fiasco with the cruise ship and not letting passengers disembark, and then it turns out a number were let off without having to go through screening, but the Chinese are still being confined to quarters blah blah blah. Jeeezus Fucking Christ EVERYTHING is made in China anyway, from rubber dog shit to the (probably) fake ICs in your military hardware to your beloved smartphones and related devices, shit, even the incessant machine-diarrhea geyser of clone synths too, so what the hell is the big deal about a potentially pandemic-level megavirus every few years? Chinavirus. Next in the ongoing series. Personally, I don't really care where the viruses originate, and to tell the truth, I get a warm feeling inside when people lose their shit over stuff like this, and even warmer when the death toll rises and rises. Can't think of a better species to get a good culling than the old homo sapiens. Heh. Mister Misanthrope at your service! But anyway.....

Found this ancient beast sitting forgotten and forlorn in a closet at work. It's a Luxman 38FD "High Fidelity Stereo Integrated Amplifier" made around 1970 (like me!). It is in near fucking mint condition. HEAVY. AS. FUCK. And the winningest part of the whole thing besides it being destined for the Big Garbage pile and as a result free for the taking? IT WORKS. Oh, and even better...

IT'S A VACUUM TUBE AMP!!! Those are the main tubes, 50CA10, pretty much but not totally unobtanium. Yeah, they fucking glow a warm orangey red, and after a bit you can see blue vapor inside. Well, if you turn off all the lights and take the top cover off. It runs hot as fuck too. I was just shocked the thing worked. It's sitting comfortably atop the desk in the lair, where you'd normally park a printer, with a pair of Yamaha NS-100X speakers on risers above it. Sounds great. There's considerably more noise (hiss?) than a modern amp, but with the volume knob raised to about 10 o'clock, it's already loud enough that the hiss isn't even a consideration anymore, and any louder would be asking for trouble with the neighbors. I can't believe it because the amp is supposed to be a mere 30 watts per channel. I guess 30 watts from vacuum tubes is a hell of a lot different from even triple that from a modern amp. LOUD!!! So yay me.

Oh and speaking of viruses....

I was watching this one on the auction for about a month and a half. The opening bid started out at around $1700 but nobody bid, and the auction ended, and one option here on the yahoo auction is for an automatic re-listing with the opening bid discounted by a certain percent. I watched for a while, then just when I'd forgotten about it, it came up in the look-at-me feed and the price was down to a grand so I bid on it and won. I had one of these before and regretted selling it, thus the TI Polar in my arsenal now, but the 61-key TI has THE BEST keys ever. Feels so good to play. Fatar! I thought yeah ok I'll just say see ya to the Polar and call it even. But... Hmm... Wait... One thing led to another and in the end I decided to keep both the viruses and... and...... and...... sell the ION. Say WHAT?!?! After all the work and repairs and maintenance and customizing LEDs and and and and.... Yeah. It's a hell of a synth, no doubt about it, but I think anything with the Alesis logo on it has a very definite shelf-life. The pots are gonna go, a few are acting up already, and those are unobtanium unless you wanna shell out the dosh and buy from syntaur. You can't get NOS pots either. So... After some serious deep-thinking and careful consideration and deliberation I had to say to myself, "self, it's a wonderful machine capable of some great sounds, but it's only 8-voice polyphonic, there are barely any effects to mention, ok sure the mod matrix and plethora of filter models and waveshaping are fantastic, but you know how ridiculously MORE powerful the Virus TI is almost every respect!" And I admitted defeat. To myself. Weird, I know. But there you go. I don't think I know anyone with two Virus TI (or TI2) synths in their collection. Maybe Anthony Rother. I know he has two IONs. 

Ahhhh but this 61-key virus wasn't without problems. Uh, well, OK one BIG problem. The power supply shat itself when I turned it on for the first time. The LCD sorta flashed, there was a brief sign of life with some of the LEDs, but then blip! Nothing. Aaaaargh! Unseat the power cable, reseat it, try again. Nothing, just a high-pitched whine that was getting louder. I put my head up against the front panel, listening for where the whine was coming from, and figured out it was the far right side. That's where the PSU is. Then suddenly the sound changed to a higher pitch that swept downwards over the course of a few seconds, all the while sputtering like it had a downward sawtooth filter on it, then POP! No more sound. When I opened the case up, I immediately remembered that for whatever reason, Access decided to go with a PSU like you'd use with a laptop computer, the big brick-like deals, and that they'd carefully bracketed the brick in so that the eyeglass-socket for the plug lined up with the hole in the rear panel. OK so all I needed to do was find a same-rating PSU and then go about modding the bracket so cosmetically it would look from-the-factory. Incidentally, I contacted Access and asked about parts, but the rep said they don't have any more PSUs for the TI series, only ones for the TI2 series, and that they aren't the same size so when they do the repair, they put a DC jack on the rear panel and the PSU gets left out—goes from internal to external if you catch my drift. Well, no thank you, I do not care for that approach, no sir, I didn't wanna go that route at all. So, thanks to having access to a drill press and diamond-saw dremel tools at work, I made the necessary mods to the bracket, padded it a bit so it would securely hold the new PSU in place, and in the end you can't tell it isn't a factory PSU (from the outside). Yay me, part two.

This is the bracket, post choppy-grindy. Yeah so I "secured" the cabling with Scotch 33+... Hey, from the factory it was held down with hot glue!

Yeah that's where it attached to the PCB. CHEEKY!!!!!!!

Not bad, right? You'd never know. But I've told you, so now you know. Oh and the PSU was $22 from a local parts chain (Marutsu). I think Access wants about $50 but I think that includes free shipping anywhere in the world. I'm just glad it's working fine now.

Other goings on... I've sold the Timeline and Space pedals, and used part of the proceeds to pick up a Sony DPS-D7 delay and a DPS-R7 reverb to use in their place. But the D7 had a wonky input knob that actually broke off in my fucking hand the second time I went to use it. That pot is super unobtanium, so I thought I'd just epoxy the broke-off-bit and not worry about separately controlling the input levels for the L and R channels (does anyone even DO that?)... Here's the pot.

Even after it was epoxied back together, it was fucking bent as fuck. Red line shows the angle, blue arrow shows where the epoxy ghetto fix went down. I saw another D7 listed as-is for $10 and nobody bid so I won it, and I had intended to just cannibalize the pot, but it turns out that it has a newer OS and it works fucking fine, so that was kind of a head-scratcher. People are weird. This delay is stupid deep. There's a multi-tap algorithm that has like 40 separately programmable taps, each with its own level, pan, feedback, and all that. The reverb (R7) is just as insane with parameters... Dudes, and dudettes, seriously, you need some deep-sea rated scuba gear to really get to grips with these Sony DPS motherfuckers. DEEEEEEEEEEEP AS FUCK. I've owned these before too. Had the F7 Filter too. That thing had a 40-band vocoder and a multi-part digital drum synth in it!? Man I think the engineers at Sony had access to some GOOD drugs back when they were working on this line of effects processors. Seriously. I mean, I love programming, but even I was intimidated by the sheer amount of programmability in these things. The ones I had before were a bit noisy, but these aren't at all. Strange. Fun shit though. Oh and there's this:

Ah fuck, looks a bit out of focus. That right there is a TOA DE-1000 delay. Rare as shit, and this one is in NEW condition. Insane! I've had this one on my radar for a while. Why? Because it's fucking WEIRD!!!! So the max delay time is 255ms or something really not that long at all, but you've got three to control: Left, Center and Right. Individual times (LEDs) and levels (white sliders), plus global wet/dry and feedback, AND modulation time and depth sliders. SLIDERS!!?? Ok it only has four memory slots, and no MIDI, but you can get up to some good mischief with this thing. Last two goodies to blab about:

Top: SONICWARE ELZ_1. What a weirdo synth. I heard that it's a raspberry pi under the hood but really? Who cares. It can do some off the wall shit. A handful of wacky synth engines, topped off by four effects processors at the end. And it has a speaker. My only complaint is no DIN MIDI, just USB and you have to buy a class compliant dealie. I suppose I should do so before I forget. Sounds pretty damn good though, and it does things that I've not heard other synths do. Built well. Fun to play and fun to program. Runs on batteries. Worth looking into. I was so impressed with this that I backed their next project (a groove box type thing it seems). Bottom: KORG AM8000R. This fucker does some WEIRD SHIT! I had one before (and its delay counterpart, the DL8000R) and for whatever reason didn't hold on to them. I think I was looking for more bread and butter, set it and forget it type effects. This was really cheap and it's in great shape. I don't think so many people know about these. Relatively easy to program, and you can get some really good, usable stuff as well as some super far out WTF stuff. The WARP! knob is good fun too.

Oh I suppose it's worth mentioning that I had an album released by Anti Gravity Device out of Tokyo a few weeks ago. Let's see if I can find a link...

https://anti-gravity-device.bandcamp.com/album/black-rainbows-agd036

Have a listen. It's stuff I recorded from about November through December last year, maybe even the first week of January this year. Live jam format, no master sequencer, wish I was an octopus because two arms and ten fingers just wasn't enough type stuff. All hardware. Fun!

So, my invisible tumblrpeeps, it's been a busy 2020 so far here. More things in the works. Keep your eyes peeled. Stay well. Watch out for number one, and don't step in number two. (thanks, Carlin!)

[mickleach]

Top 10 Food Myths

these are the possibly false truths we convinced ourselves to believe in regards to our food an apple a day keeps the doctor away and you're wondering is that really true welcome to watchmojo.com and today we're counting down our picks for the top ten food myths at the end of the day if we compare them side-by-side there are pros and cons for each for this list we're focusing on popular adages about food or common diet tips some of which have merit some of which don't and some of which do but not for the reasons you'd think then I would probably consider limiting or avoiding gum until the child gets a little bit older but as always be sure to consult a medical professional when it comes to your health stay lean and stay strong number 10 microwaving food destroys nutrients myth we're talking really bad we begin our list with the big bad microwave any new technology attracts its share of critics and the microwave was no different why don't you build something like he does stead of all your empty deals it's just like your science oven you know I read that it takes all of the nutrition out of our food empty just like your deal it's long been suggested that cooking food this way can rob it of its healthy properties but for the most part that's just not true it's actually the cook time and heat level that is most likely to destroy nutrients and since a microwave takes less time than most conventional cooking methods in many cases it might actually help retain more of the healthiness and cook for three to four minutes until the salmon is flaky pro tip try steaming vegetables in a sealed microwave safe ditch with a small amount of water for delicious and nutritious veggies it's also very important to choose glass cookware or microwave safe cookware that doesn't emit or leach different plastic compounds which can be toxic number 9 pop rocks plus soda equals kaboom miss thirsty what's wrong something you might have heard about mixing pop rocks some soda well you there stomach and your intestines everything first coca-cola hit the market in 1886 pop rocks hit the market in 1975 rumours claiming that ingesting these junky products at the same time would cause your stomach to explode due to excessive carbon dioxide from the combo of the fizzy candy and the carbonated drink weren't far behind I'm a little afraid I can't say oh let me see let's all see okay oh crap everyone heard this urban legend when they were growing up and many of us may have actually believed it the people of Seattle believed it so much the US Food and Drug Administration had to set up a hotline to calm them down oh but the truth is the worst thing you could likely do to you is cause a nice satisfying belch ah odd then number eight eggs are bad for your heart if this food factoid has been debated for years but here's what we know eggs contain cholesterol and too much cholesterol can lead to health problems like heart disease so how is this amiss well contrary to what you might have been told eggs are one of the healthiest foods you can consume as they're full of vitamins minerals and protein if you're healthy and don't have a history of heart problems you can likely eat an egg a day without it adversely affecting your cholesterol levels as your body will offset it by producing less cholesterol itself so will that be scrambled or sunny-side up there was a widely spread study that eggs were not good for you this just doesn't simply make any sense number seven red wine is good for your heart fact yep I don't care what the scientists say I'm just gonna keep on drinking all you wine drinkers out there prepare to rejoice scientists have been studying the connection between wine consumption and heart health for years after looking at the French diet and noticing relatively low rates of heart disease even though their traditional foods are fatty and if they want to drink Merlot we're drinkin Merlot know if anybody orders Merlot I'm leaving I am not drinking any more low but it's true red wine features heart-healthy properties that can possibly protect against heart attacks or strokes among other things however like most things when it comes to your diet moderation is key oh no no no I'm driving about two glasses a day for men and one for women is the optimum amount to drink for your health will drink to that number six a gluten-free diet is better for anyone myth clues a vague term it's it's something that's used to categorize things that are bad you know calories that's a gluten gluten is a rather new buzzword in the mainstream but boy has a gained steam fast gluten intolerance is described as the fastest growing food intolerance category selling over ten and a half billion in the u.s. in 2013 and only growing since then and while those suffering from celiac disease are unable to digest gluten only about 1% of the population suffers from it and therefore should follow a gluten-free diet and your body responds in a lot of ways to it stomach pains swollen lymph nodes skin rashes a whole host of things that will progressively get worse as you keep having to gluten in your diet doctors recommend that anyone without this condition can and should include whole grains in their balanced diet for help with digestion lower blood pressure and cholesterol maintaining a healthy body weight and more so why is it so bad well it's not in fact it's neither detrimental or essential for your health and there's very little evidence to suggest that cutting it out is the healthier choice for the average person that's the whole wheat toast please is better than the previous bite you gluten number 5 it takes seven years to digest swallowed gum miss name something you put in your mouth but don't swallow Oh Amanda gum we've all been there one minute you're chewing some gum the next something startles you and you swallow it better hope your mom's not around to lecture you about how swallowed gum will not be digested by your system for seven years and we'll just fester in your gut until it's finally excreted okay gross and patently untrue while gum has been described as indigestion that doesn't mean it stays in your stomach it just means that when you do pass the gum through your sister in the regular amount of time it'll be in pretty much the same shape as when you swallowed it I know what and get go mamas go but we don't suggest checking it out to be sure number four eating turkey makes you sleepy miss Oh Monica that was the best Thanksgiving dinner ever was so good I think he killed us we were surprised about this one too considering how lethargic we are after Thanksgiving dinner every year so why do you feel tired after you stuff your face with turkey a common assertion blames tryptophan an amino acid found in many meats that's connected to the sleepytime hormone melatonin but the holiday bird actually contains less tryptophan than a food like cheddar cheese for example so experts point to other culprits when it comes to after meal exhaustion it's probably the combo of carbs and booze that cause you to snooze whatever bring it on jelly those are my maternity pants no no these are my Thanksgiving pants number three boy stirs are an aphrodisiac miss have you ever had a wasters did you know boy stirs are an aphrodisiac well it's probably a myth anyway the oyster has long been considered a vital food for love partly because of its vague resemblance to female sex organs and partly because the legendary lover Casanova was set to eat 50 of them each morning but there have been many studies over the years none of which has proven the oysters roll as a definitive aphrodisiac what they have found however is that oysters are so rich with zinc and amino acids that they may increase the sex drive maybe there's something to this one after all but no matter how you eat them they're sure to enhance the romance of your Valentine's Day evening number 2 acne is caused by chocolate greasy foods etc miss people think that I told my name chuckling ba or that I don't wash my face call them pimples call them zits but whatever you call them they're an unfortunate part of life and they often crop up at the worst possible time my chocolate my beautiful chocolate now the uninformed might blame things like chocolate or greasy foods for their facial blemishes while others might cite poor hygiene but they'd all be wrong acne is caused by bacteria excess oil or clogged pores and there's not a ton you can do about it Chocolate Rain a baby born will die before this in Chocolate Rain stress and hormones may trigger a breakout as can some medications and there are even some studies that suggest diet can be an aggravating factor but all in all zits are a rite of passage we all must deal with amaz it get it before we unveil our top pick here are some honorable mentions today there are over 900 published studies revealing the detrimental effects of aspartame migraines are the most reported aspartame reaction like they're coming thank you contact even though artificial sweeteners don't raise your blood sugar they may put you at greater risk for diabetes calories consumed after say 10:00 p.m. won't make you gain weight any faster than calories consumed at 6:00 p.m. research shows that what matters is how many calories you eat and not the time that you eat them the bottom line is to be aware of what you're eating margarine can vary so drastically that looking at the label to understand what is or isn't in it will help you make informed decisions number one organic food is always healthier myth organic food is grown without synthetic pesticides fertilizers antibiotics or hormones today it accounts for more than thirty 1 billion dollars in sales a year in the United States many people think the organic label gives food some supernatural nutritional value but it actually refers to the way the farmers grow or raise their products is that USDA Organic or Oregon Organic of Portland Organic it's just all across the board organic in many cases organic farming might encourage soil and water conservation while decreasing pollution it's also more likely to be free of preservatives and synthetic flavors now I'm on the inside looked in my list organic chicken kale salad in a lemon twist however thus far test results have gone back and forth on whether or not organic food is healthier if you want to support small farmers and sustainable development then by all means look for an organic certification however an apple is an apple no matter how it's grown so as long as you're eating a healthy balanced diet you should be fine his name was Colin curious papers okay just quick he looks like a happy little guy runs around a lot of friends other chickens as friends putting his little wing around another one kind of like howling around I don't know that I can speak to that level of intimate knowledge about him do you agree with our list that is so good what's your favorite food myth for more enticing 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