#which is fine if you are familiar with it but if you're a brand new driver obviously not...

[hussyknee]

Made in the USA: Wage Theft, Fraud and Hidden Sweatshops

Unrolled twitter thread by derek guy (@dieworkwear)

4 Oct 24 • Read on X

ALT enabled on all images. Video has closed captions but is not transcribed.

Not trying to create a pile-on here. But let's talk about why something might still be made in unethical conditions even though it bears a "made in USA" tag. 🧵

The first thing to understand is that not all workers are covered by US labor laws. You might assume that workers get paid a minimum wage (after all, it says "minimum"). In fact, many garment workers in the US toil under what's known as the piecework system.

Piecework means you get paid not by the amount of time you work but the number of operations you complete. This system should be familiar to many of you. As a writer, I get paid per word. The pay is the same whether it takes me 100 or 10 hours to write a 1,000 word article.

My situation is fine bc I get paid enough to eat. But for a garment worker, the pay structure can be peanuts: three cents to sew a zipper or sleeve, five cents for a collar, and seven cents to prepare the top part of a skirt. These are real numbers for LA-based garment workers.

Piecework is how companies skirt minimum wage laws. Among labor organizers, the term "wage theft" refers to the difference between what a worker should have earned under min wage laws and what they actually earned through the piece rate system.

This system is incredibly common. A 2016 UCLA Labor Center study showed the median piece-rate worker in Los Angeles scrapes together $5.15 per hour—less than half the state’s mandated minimum wage. Labor conditions are also very bad: poor ventilation, dusty air, rats and mice.

A Federal Department of Labor investigation the same year found that 85 percent of Los Angeles garment factories were breaking labor laws. In 2016, these violations amounted to $1.3 million in back wages owed to 865 workers in a sample of 77 factories. This is wage theft.

In 2021, labor organizers won a fight to get piecework banned in California. But two years later, it's still incredibly common. I interviewed an LA-based garment worker who toils 12 hrs a day for $50. She sleeps in the corner of a kitchen. From my article in The Nation:

Currently, there's a new fight get piecework banned nationwide through the FABRC Act. I would link, but Twitter throttles threads that have outbound links, so I would prefer if you Google how you can support this legislation. Or follow @GarmentWorkerLA for more info.

The other reason why a "made in USA" tag may not mean much has to do with how the label is applied.

When you see this label inside your garment, what do you assume? Think about this before moving on to the next tweet.

The Federal Trade Commission has pretty strict rules on who gets to apply that label. For clothes, the item has to be cut and sewn in the US using materials that were made in the US. The FTC tries to match its rules with the common understanding of what "made in US" means.

If you're a giant company like Levi's or LL Bean, you may have lawyers who are advising you on these rules. This is why you see labels like "imported," which means the item was made abroad. Or "made in the US from imported materials" when they can't meet the MiUSA standard.

But it's incredibly common for companies to violate FTC rules. In 2022, the FTC fined the pro-Trump brand Lions Not Sheep $211k for labeling their t-shirts "made in USA" when the shirts were actually imported from China and other countries.

The company was basically importing blanks from China, ripping out the "made in China" label, screen printing the shirt in the US, and then applying a new screen-printed "made in US" label. CEO Sean Whalen claimed he was being persecuted for his pro-Trump views.

But the whole thing started bc Whalen made a video about how his customers are price sensitive, so he imports blanks from China. That's what kicked off the FTC investigation. So while this mislabeling is common, it's hard to get caught unless you make a video about your crimes.

The truth is that making a t-shirt in the USA according to FTC standards will result in a relatively expensive garment. Heddels and Velva Sheen both produce shirts in the US from US grown cotton. The first is $26; second is $90 for a two-pack.

Once you add things such as screenprinting—or if you want a more unique cut and not just basic blanks—the costs go up. This is why Bikers for Trump sourced their merch from Haiti. They knew their customers would not pay an extra $8 for true made-in-USA production.

Today, there are countless companies that make merch for other organizations. They source their t-shirts from a variety of places—some made in the US, most not—and then screenprint a design and fulfill orders. This way, the other org doesn't have to do any work but marketing.

When you see a screenprinted t-shirt for $20, ask yourself: Where was the material grown? Where were the yarns spun? Where was the cutting, sewing, and finishing performed? Where was the screenprinted done? What were the wages and labor conditions along these steps?

I'm not a nationalist, so I don't prioritize American jobs over foreign ones. But I do care about fair wages and labor protections. Just because something was made abroad doesn't mean it was made in a sweatshop. Just because it was made in the US doesn't mean fair wages.

Paying more for a garment is also no guarantee of ethical manufacturing. But when the price of a garment is so low, you leave little on the table for workers. Just because you see a $20 t-shirt that says "made in USA" doesn't mean it was made fairly.

Please don't harass the person who posted that original tweet. My intention is not to cause harm or stress for anyone. Only to help shed light on what goes into garment manufacturing, fair labor, and labeling. Hopefully, you will consider these issues when shopping.

For the inevitable question: "How do I make sure my clothes were made ethically?" This is very difficult to answer in a thread. My simplest answer is that we should elect pro-worker politicians, fight for pro-labor laws, and empower unions so workers can advocate for themselves.

--------------------End----------------------

TL; DR: Doesn't matter if it's the US, if it's not union it's probably a sweatshop. And not all merch is priced high because of fair labour conditions (looking at Taylor Swift and Beyoncé). Look for supply chain transparency.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 6: Fireplace

Pairing: Sky x Reader

Warning(s): N/A they cuddle

Notes: Dedicated to @sunflowersunnyl and every other Sky simp I've unknowingly deprived <33

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Previous Day | Next Day

The house's front door groaned when you pushed it open, stopping just long enough to wipe your snow-caked boots on the rough mat just outside of the awning before stepping inside, signing when a rush of warm air caressed the exposed skin of your cheeks, pink from the chill and several accompanying gusts of biting wind. The bag of groceries was placed in the foyer, and you rejoiced in the loss of weight.

"Beloved? Is that you?" A voice called from the kitchen, and you grinned under the thick material of your scarf.

"The one and only!" you responded, shrugging off your heavy, frostbitten cloak, thick mittens, and scarf sturdy enough to strangle a man. Your boots came next, leaving you in a set of soft woolen socks, a corded tunic, and some leggings. "Did you miss me?"

A dark blonde head poked through the doorway, revealing the smiling face of Sky. The hero's bright cerulean eyes seemed to shimmer as he looked at you, and his dimples were on full, brilliant display as he walked over to envelop you in a god-tier embrace. "Every minute," he murmured into your hair, hands fanning over the covered skin of your back.

"Flirt," you teased, cheeks rosy from the onslaught of heat. Sky nuzzled his nose against the crown of your head, hands drifting down to take yours--

"By Hylia, you're freezing!"

--only to freeze (ha ha) when his fingers touched the chilled tips of your own, immediately wrapping them against the warm skin of his palms, desperate to inject some heat back into near-frozen flesh. "My love, we've talked about this," oh no, not his mom voice. "You need gloves. The Surface isn't as forgiving as Skyloft."

"I know," you rested your cheek against his chest, just barely able to keep from tilting your head further to listen to the rhythm of his heart. "I was in a rush to go to the market before another snowstorm hit."

One of your hands was released. Sky touched your cheek, expression hardening when he realized just how cold you were. "You'll catch your death if you're not careful," he warned, but you knew it was all born of concern. His thumb stroked your flesh, like a sizzling brand against pure, driven snow. "Go to the couch for me? I'll make tea."

Aww, wasn't that sweet?

"You don't have to," you said gently, not wanting to be a burden. Not that he had ever called you one, but you still tried to avoid it. "I'm not that cold. Really."

His response was a silently-raised eyebrow, and you caved quicker than you cared to admit.

"Fine, fine," you raised your hands in surrender, already beginning to backtrack to the couch. "You know what else helps? Cuddles."

"Coming right up," said Sky before he leaned forward to tenderly peck the apple of your cheek. You returned the favor with a chilly kiss to his nose, and the two of you parted, with you scurrying to the couch and him slinking back to the kitchen.

With a pleasant sigh, you settled onto the soft cushions, snagging a nearby blanket to swing over your lap in an attempt to assuage the chill, which had already begun to fade. Before you, the fireplace crackled warmly, looking as though it had been recently stoked.

It wasn't until your eyelids began to droop that you felt a familiar weight join you on the couch. A heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you to Sky's chest, and you snuggled against him with nary a sound, a wave of contentment lapping at your heart like the gentle waters of Lake Floria.

"Here," murmured the hero as he placed a steaming mug in your hands, which immediately closed around the object in an attempt to suck its warmth like the leech you were. Sky's grin was encouraging. "Try it; It's a new blend."

"You spoil me," you murmured, lifting the cup to your lips, uncaring of the nearly scalding temperature of the liquid within. It was all the same to you, and he knew it. You smacked your lips, surprised by the hints of mulberry contained in the blend. "It's wonderful," you shot him a small smile, hoping it was enough to convey your appreciation more than words ever could. "Where did you find the recipe?"

Sky's eyes crinkled at the corners and he held you closer, fingers stroking a delicate rhythm on the fabric covering your arm. "Actually, I've been experimenting. I think I'll keep using this one, though."

Your smile widened; you had nearly forgotten about his tea-creating endeavors because, really, when one had explored the entire world, it was only natural to move on to lesser-known mediums, which, in your boyfriend's case, happened to be tea. Obviously, you had no complaints, except when he attempted to use lizalfos talons in one such concoction, but you shut that down quicker than PDA at the Academy.

"Well, it's amazing," you praised, taking another, larger sip. Fuck, that was good. "Let me guess: pine stems?"

There was nothing but pride in Sky's eyes. "Yes, actually! I didn't think you'd notice."

"Oh, so you dare underestimate my tea-detection skills?" you chortled against his side, prompting your boyfriend to press the first of many kisses against the crown of your head. "My tastebuds and I expected better."

"My deepest apologies," the Chosen Hero chuckled, bringing his hand up to card through your hair, further warding the chill that lingered in your bones. "I suppose I'll have to make it up to you."

"You're damn right," you teased, nuzzling the tip of your cold nose into the junction between his neck and shoulder. "How about some cuddles? I hear they warm the soul just as good as cuckoo noodle soup."

Sky responded by hugging you tighter, the words 'as if you have to ask' going wholly unsaid. His head dipped, cheek resting against your hair. "I love you," he said; softly, like a promise. Like a vow.

"Me too, Link," you murmured, just as quietly. Anything louder felt like a disturbance in the fragile, perfect peace developing the two of you like the softest blanket. Darkness crept into the edges of your vision.

You sipped your tea, and the fireplace crackled softly.

The fire was out.

You stared at it, cuddled in the unyielding arms of your lover. Your tea was gone, the mug having been moved to the nearby couch-side table, and a chill was beginning to creep into the room.

An involuntary shiver wracked you, likely nothing more than a half-baked reaction to the cold sweeping over your toes, but the trembling movement still prompted Sky's eyes to crack open, mere cerulean-and-white slits that shone in the glimmering moonlight. It was late, and you knew better than anyone how much he needed the sleep. How much you both needed it. "...Cold?"

"Just a bit," you admitted, using the last remnants of strength in your body to bring your feet off the freezing hardwood, letting them rest on the slightly less chilled cushions. You yawned against the side of his throat, hoping it would be enough to convince him to drift off once more. "...'M fine, you can go back to bed."

But Sky was already shifting, peering at you with a groggy expression. "No, no," he said, sounding more awake by the second, and you half-heartedly cursed his ability to read you like a book. "I'll get the fire going and we can head to bed."

Fuck, you could already feel him beginning to sit up. In a last-ditch effort, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself as close as you could. "Don't leave meeee."

But Sky was not to be deterred. With a grace you'd only witnessed on the battlefield, he gathered you in his arms, maneuvered your legs around his waist, and held you there with an arm under your bottom in a gesture that had you feeling far warmer than any fire. You squeaked, and he chuckled, looking prouder than you'd seen in a long time. "There. Now I'm not leaving you."

Your mouth opened. Then closed. By Hylia, he wasn't even breaking a sweat! "I–" you paused, realizing that nothing you were about to say would be remotely helpful to the situation at hand, and let yourself be carried to the fireplace, where he bent, STILL carrying you, and refilled the logs, using a match to reignite a blaze. With one hand.

What the fuck??

Per usual, you were deeply impressed. "Link," you breathed, almost in awe. He turned his head to look at you. "You're amazing. Completely, utterly amazing."

"So are you," Sky said softly, like a promise that you would have given anything to keep. "Let's get you warmed up."

"Scandalous," you couldn't help but joke, heart fluttering when he chuckled, pressing a warm smooch to the side of your face, making for the bedroom with unhurried steps.

"Ah, so you were fibbing when you called me the perfect gentleman yesterday?" the Chosen Hero shot back, just as teasing, bumping the door open with a deft flick of his hip. You tried not to recall the other things those hips could do. "I'm appalled, beloved."

"Oh, I'm sure," you rolled your eyes playfully, clinging a bit tighter to his neck. "How outrageous of me, truly."

He hummed, trying and failing to set you down on the bed. Your expression morphed into a smirk, and you tightened your legs around his waist.

"Oh nooo, I'm stuck. Whatever shall I do?" You bemoaned, repeating a line that was typically only reserved for pretending to get stuck in various nooks around the house.

Sky's response was a wide grin that sent droves of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well..." he trailed off, letting the moment drag on. "I suppose you'll have to spend the night with me, my love."

As if you didn't already!

"Whaaaat?" You gaped in faux horror. "How cruel! And you said you were a hero!"

"Mm, I did, but there's only so much I can do," he began to lean forward; until your back hit the bed and you had one very sleepy hero covering you like a very heavy, very affectionate blanket.

"Link!"

"Hm?"

Your lips pursed in what you hoped was a very convincing pout, because you were just about to die of laughter. "You're squishing me."

A fauxly-unsympathetic face buried in the junction between your shoulder and neck. "Oh, my dear, that sounds like a 'you problem'."

"Rude!" You huffed, though it held no real annoyance.

Sky waited a few seconds, then grunted, releasing you and rolling the two of you over so you were lying against his chest. Satisfied, you snuggled your head just under his jaw, legs tangling as sleep gripped you in an unbreakable hold, heralded by the heavy wrap of his arms over your back and the gentle, thudding pulse beneath your ear. "I love you," the Hero of the Skies murmured, holding you like you were something precious, because, to him, you were. "So much."

"I love you too," you lifted your head just enough to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. "Always."

The word 'forever' was left unspoken.

I need a man like Sky IMMEDIATELY. Regular men just ain't going to cut it anymore.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Cat in the Kitchen

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel) | Part 10 (ft. Jack and Vil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Ready for a short supplementary cooking class?🌟 A day in the life of Prefect Gordon and his familiar Grim, told in three parts: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After all, food is tastier when it's shared with friends and family~

Imagine this…

Gordon Ramsay stirred before the rats and the ghosts of Ramshackle dorm did. He was up by 5 am most days, first exercising and then rustling around in the kitchen fighting the gas stove to light (and stay that way!) and taking inventory of the dwindling ingredients in the pantry. At 7 am, the delicious smells would start up, rousing his housemates from their slumber.

This was the magic of a human incapable of spellcasting or sorcery.

"Mm... You're up super early again," Grim muttered from the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes. He yawned, still struggling to shake off the last remnants of sleep that clung to him. "I dunno how you do it."

"Not so hard once you've got the hang of it," he grunted in response. Gordon wiped his hands off on a dish towel before sliding a plate toward Grim. "Eat up now, we don't have much time before classes start."

"I dunno, I'm not too hungry."

"You? Not hungry?" Gordon's brows raised. "That's new. You feeling under the weather?"

Grim leapt, looking as though he had been caught with his entire body stuffed into a cookie jar. "N-No, I'm not! Yup, there's my hunger comin' back to me!"

He hurriedly yoinked a tuna sandwich and chowed down.

"See?! Ah'm jus' fine," Grim insisted, cheeks stuffed.

"Hmm, alright." Gordon tucked into a small bowl of oatmeal--prepared with baked bananas, almond milk, and dried cranberries.

"You got class today too or what?"

"Yup. Ashengrotto and the smaller Shroud this time."

“Think they’ll drive ya mad like the rest of them did?”

“I’ll hold my tongue until I’ve seen how they are in the kitchen for myself.”

“Keh, you’re no fun.”

The beast’s ears flattened. The blue fire that burned so brightly seemed to dim. Something weighed on his mind—of that, Gordon was certain.

“That means you'll abandon me before lunchtime again..." Between chews, Grim complained, "How come I gotta be just a student and you get to be a teacher too? The great Grim-sama oughta be showin' these newbies a thing or two!"

"I only teach what I know. I'm still a student in some ways, learning new things about food every day." Gordon shrugged, giving his friend a rough ruffle on the head. "You can be a teacher when you've mastered everything there is to master--neither of us is quite there yet."

"Why can't it be? I wanna fast forward to the part where I become an archmage already!!"

"Don't be impatient about making progress. I’ve made hundreds of dumplings in a day and still came nowhere near the level of perfection of a dim sum master.“

“Tsk, that sucks. Didja at least get to eat the bad dumplings?”

“It was all I had that day. They weren’t fit to serve to customers.” Gordon shook his head. “My point is, you’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He spooned up the remainder of his oatmeal, then deposited his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink. Gordon plucked up Grim, who still had a mouth full of tuna, and tucked him under one arm.

“M-Myah?!“

“Right then, let’s head out. Brisk morning jog to wake up the senses—it’s a brand new day!”

“Lemme finish my breakfast first, sheesh!!”

Three classes before lunch, and they all went about as well as Gordon had expected them to. (That was to say, not well at all.)

During first period Alchemy, Grim had earned the ire of Crewel by disregarding the potion recipe. In spite of Gordon's reminders and warnings, Grim had taken one too many missteps. The wrong ingredient, the incorrect amount, the temperature too low or too high, the stirring too much or not enough.

He was then caught catnapping during Magic History and extensively told off by both Trein and Lucius. (The meowing had gotten very intense.) Gordon had apologized profusely in Grim's place.

Flying had not fared any better--Grim struggled to concentrate, his unsteady magic causing his broom to wildly buck, attempting to chuck him off. Gordon had to stop his rep of 100 push-ups to fetch his friend out from a shrub. Twigs poked at him, leaves caught in his fur.

By the time they were dismissed back to the locker rooms, Grim had melted into a furry puddle on Gordon's shoulder. "Maaan, I'm beat!! That was rough!"

"Rougher than usual." Gordon crunched on an apple. He had taken to the habit of eating small platters or snacks throughout the day over whole meals—it was more efficient for his lifestyle. “Something you want to tell me, or…?”

“N-Nothing’s up!” Grim snapped. "Quit worryin' about me. It's the boss's job to do that for their minion."

The chef rolled his eyes as he set Grim down on the floor beside him. He handed off a boxed lunch wrapped in a checkered cloth. "I'm off to teach. You'll be fine on your own, right? Find Trappola and Spade, settle down with your food, and don't cause trouble."

"I got it already!" Grim huffed. "Catch ya after...?"

"Always." His smile was strained, a bit tired but true. "Maybe I'll bring back some disastrous stories to share with you over dinner."

One last pat on the head, and then he was gone. Hustling down the hall, the white of his pristine chef’s jacket vanishing behind a corner.

Grim managed the rest of the hike to the cafeteria, balancing his lunch in his paws. He squeezed past the legs of various mob students, emerging safely on the other side. They rushed to line up for trays of food.

Suckers, Grim thought, paying in cash for food. Luckily for me, I’ve got something way better than whatever they’re serving.

“Oiiii, Grim! Over here!!” someone called to him. He looked—and there they were, the duo of troublemakers, marked by a heart and a spade upon their faces.

“Ace! Deuce!”

He scampered over to the two Heartslabyul freshmen. They had already secured their lunches, as well as an open seat for him.

“Hard night? Looks like you didn't get much sleep," Deuce commented. A fluffy omelet wobbled atop a mountain of ketchup fried rice on his plate.

“He's right, you really do look awful," Ace added cheerily--blunt as ever. He had opted for a slice of some savory pie, vegetables and meat oozing out from a buttery crust.

"Sh-Shuddap! The great Grim-sama was up all night cookin' up something big!" He slammed a paw down on the table. "Just look at your sorry lunches. They can't compare to what I have!"

"Did Prefect make your meal again? You should try to not trouble him too much.”

"’S not like I tell’m to! He does it on his own!” Grim snickered to himself. "He takes all these cheap ingredients and throws'm together to make these tasty dishes."

"Well, don't keep us waiting in suspense," Ace groaned. "Show us what you have already."

“Let’s see, let’s see!”

Grim undid the fabric knot that held his lunch in a swathe. The checkered pattern peeled back and the lid, once removed, yielded a creamy, cheesy bed of tuna bake.

Gordon had taken his beloved canned tuna and fried it down into flakes. It was then combined with a special mixture of seasonings, pasta shells, melted cheeses, onions and broccoli, and topped with bread crumbs. After a generous bake in their ancient oven, the dish had come out golden brown and bubbling.

“Whoooa, smells delish!!” all three of them drooled.

“Lucky bastard,” Ace muttered. He quickly put on a cheeky grin, his spoon prepared. “Ne, ne~ Lemme try some, Grim!“

“D-Don’t be cheeky, Ace! You can’t demand to mooch off of someone else’s lunch,” Deuce scolded his peer. “… Even if it does look really good.”

“Paws off!!” Grim shielded the box with his body. “My minion made this for me and me only!”

“Tch.” Ace’s expression dropped. “You get to eat like a king for free while the rest of us have to shell out and make do with whatever’s on the school’s menu.”

“It’s not that bad,” Deuce pointed out. “It’d be nice to be able to eat for free but I’m happy with the quality of food we get for the price.”

“This comin’ from the guy who was running low on pocket money for a snack the other day?” he smirked.

“H-Hey, I need to budget, okay?!”

While the duo bickered, Grim had started to shove his face into the box (silverware was too difficult to maneuver) and wolf down his meal. Cheese sauce painted his fur, bits of broccoli and tuna dotting his jaw.

It was heaven—or as close to heaven as he could get on the earth.

He licked his lips appreciatively, mopping up what was left on his face. Not even a little could go to waste. Grim was determined.

As he went back in for another mouthful, he felt a phantom hand cascade across his head, his back. Advice from that morning filled his mind.

“You’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He shut his eyes, making a silent vow.

I’ll definitely… definitely pay ya back for all the hard work you’ve been puttin’ in too, partner.

Gordon bid farewell to the ghost chefs on his way out of the kitchen. The day’s leftovers and unused ingredients overflowed from his arms—a perk of the teaching gig, which helped to feed him and his feline roommate. He mentally parsed through what was available, dreaming up new dishes for the days to come.

There was a nice chunk of fresh tuna (Grim would love it) in his brown paper bag. Perhaps he’d sear it with a sesame crust, then drizzle the seafood in a yuzu-lime dressing to brighten it. He’s plate it with a microgreens salad. Chives, arugula, celery, radish, and ruby sorrel to encourage Grim to eat a variety of vegetables.

He made his way out of the school building and down the long, winding path to Ramshackle dorm. The sun was still out, warming the worn Prefect.

On the front porch, he rustled around in his pants for the keys. When he finally fished it out and inserted the teeth into the lock, Gordon swore he heard a series of suppressed giggles from beyond the door.

Odd.

The door swung open, and he was immediately accosted.

"Welcome baaack," the Ramshackle Ghosts chirped. One ushered him in from behind, another too his groceries off of his hands, and a third tugged him along by the arm.

"Come this way! Grimmy's got a treat for ya!"

"He's been working hard on it the second he got back from his last class."

"Oooh, you're gonna LOVE it!"

"What about dinner?" Gordon protested, watching his beloved ingredients sail off.

He was thrusted into their dingy kitchen--which doubled as the dining room, thanks to the table and chairs set up in one cobwebbed corner. The same old Ramshackle he woke up to every day. Rusty knobs and hinges, chipped cupboards, electricity and running water that blinked in and out.

But there, set on a table with uneven legs and splintered wood, was something extraordinary.

It was a stout cake, iced in light blue with a layer of dripping white and several lit candles stuck into the top. Black frosting formed the vague shape of a fish, TUNA piped over it in white. A single lollipop--pale blue, and in the shape of a paw--casually rested against the cake, as if it had been tossed on top for an extra flair.

A furry mass tackled and hugged Gordon's leg.

"Grim?!"

He was suited up in his own little chef's uniform. It was deep gray, verging on black, his apron tied with a striped-purple ribbon. A tiny toque--a chef's hat-- sat between his ears, a bandage over the bridge of his nose. A smear of white icing decorated his left cheek, and he carried with him a telltale piping bag squeezed thin.

Gordon blinked. "You did this?"

"Nyahahah! Were you surprised?"

"You told me you couldn't cook to save your life."

"He can't," a ghost piped up as he deposited the groceries onto a counter. "He's worse than I was when I was alive!"

"That's why Grimmy's been getting up in the dead of night lately. Been, what? Gotta be a few weeks now."

"He's been practicing his baking and then cleaning up the traces of his crime before you get up."

"What..."

"I wanted to pay ya back, yanno! For all the cookin' and cleanin' and whatever," Grim mumbled shyly, kicking at the ground. "So I figured I'd treat ya for once! I was thinking of a sticky toffee pudding at first since that's your favorite, but... it gets so sticky, it was hard to work with!"

He patted his stomach. "I couldn't put my stuff in the trash can or else you'd notice, so I had to eat up all my mistakes too! It was a lotta effort and way harder than it looked, so you'd better be grateful!!”

Grim looked away, rubbing at his bandage.

“… It helped me better understand and appreciate all the things you do on the daily.”

It clicked.

Everything suddenly made sense. Grim's tiredness, lack of focus, decreased appetite, defensiveness—it was all for this very moment.

"... I see." Gordon bent down, a smile taking shape on his mouth. A steady kindling in his chest. “This is your way of saying ‘thank you’.”

“M-Maybe! An archmage has gotta take good care of his minion,” Grim muttered.

The prefect laughed softly. “And you’re doing a great job at it. Hang tight, I'll get the stove going and whip us up some seared tuna to go with the cake."

“Myah?! Y-You’ve got tuna? Like, the real stuff?!” Grim’s eyes were wide and sparkling. A line of drool ran down his chin. "Fancy tuna...!!"

"Yeah. We can plate some for the ghosts too--so they can join us for a meal in spirit." Gordon nodded at their other roommates. Their pale faces brightened with excitement.

"Can we really?"

"It's been so long since I was last invited to a celebration like this!!"

"Oh, but we can't eat... Ghosts don't have digestive systems. The tune would pass right through us."

"... Grim, you have eat their shares. More importantly, it's being together for the occasion that matters, right?"

"Whoo-hoo!! You're the best minion an archmage could ask for!!" Grim cheered, leaping into the air, furry fist pumping.

“Let's get this dinner party started…!”

[shojizbae]

Just take yourself back to 2006

Tom Kaulitz x Reader

It's the later days of MySpace and the early days of YouTube, and Tokio Hotel is starting to take off. Fan girls are really beginning to amass, and the world getting very familiar with Tokio Hotel. One young German girl had since seen the band and their aesthetics and decided to change her appearance almost entirely. One walk down to the convenience store later, she locked herself in the bathroom for the night. She pulled an all-nighter, and when she emerged from her bedroom the following day, her mother jumped at the sight.

Gone was the good little Jewish girl she had raised. Drugstore eyeliner was coating your waterline. Different locks of your hair were bleached or had been dyed neon pink. Your once sensible collared shirts and khaki pants had been exchanged for a pair of low-rise bootcut jeans you accidentally bought when out with your great aunt. A lack of cool bras was exchanged for a leopard print bikini layered under a white camisole, which you had tied around your waist. You had taken a sharpie to your nails, and your lips were drenched in strawberry glaze lip gloss.

"Oh, good morning, liebe!" your mom quivers behind the batter bowl. "Do you want pancakes?"

"Nein, I'm going to the mall with some friends." you look disinterestedly at your pink razor. Just then, your mom notices that you're dragging a bag of clothes behind you

"What are you doing with those?"

"I'm not going to wear them anymore, so I will sell them to one of those charity shops. Yeah, and I think I will go to the music store, so can I have 50 euros?"

"Why don't you ask your father?"

"Ugh, fine." You sling the trash bag over your shoulder, and your mother is not happy when you return with a hundred euros in your hand. God dammit, you have your dad in your back pocket, your mom remembers. You walk into town, sell your old clothes, get another hundred euros, and then take your new look for a spin. The bus ticket only eats up two of your euros, and when you get to the mall, you instantly grab the attention of some emos.

They take you under their skinny wings and drag you around Hot Topic. You're dragged through Victoria's Secret, and the girls show you the most natural push-up bras in the subtlest shades of neon magenta and bedazzled turquoise. They show you the matching G-strings and outfit you with all the best.

All your brand new best friends take the bus home with you and show you all the best music. Your parents aren't home, so you drag four random kids to your apartment. Your parents were horrified when they got home. Sure, it was natural to experiment at your age, and sure, 15 was a little old to still have horse posters up in your bedroom, but this was a real change.

Posters of men in tight leather pants with piercings covered your bedroom walls. Your sensible synagogue clothes had been smushed in the back of your closet to make room for miniskirts and ripped-up band tees. Your father nearly passed out when he saw that not only was your tongue pierced but also your eyebrow on your precious face? When they asked you what spurred on this change, all they got was

“What? I’m not your little girl anymore.” Your new friend may have overstayed their welcome, playing loud, trashy metal and eating all your snacks, but it was with you when Jax, a tall, spindly emo with purple highlights, said he would teach you how to make out with someone. You were just barely getting to second base when your mom walked in with a plate of carrots and hummus and sharply kicked all the kids out.

The next few months were a living hell of wresting you out of baggy jeans so your parents wouldn’t be kicked out of Temple. For that, you would abide because you did enjoy faith and your relationship with god, but as soon as you got back to the apartment, you would smear makeup on and practice with your new shitty Yamaha.

Getting more immersed in alternatives styles and culture you started posting covers of Metallica and eventually Tokio Hotel. Your covers start gaining traction some for your musical finesse and others for your looks. Accidentally you get really famous in almost a few months. When you start making money off your live shows, your mom takes over as your manager. She didn't like her 9-5 anyway.

When your gigs start making enough money to pay the bills for your dad, he lightens up on his disdain for your art. Slowly, you begin jotting down poetry, posting short videos of you noodling on your old acoustic guitar. Slowly, you sign a one-album contract with Universal Music Germany. While you juggle school and micro-fame, you spend every weekend at their recording studio.

It's one warm May Saturday when you meet him. You're both reaching for the same bottle of Coca-Cola when you brush his hands.

"Oh, entschuldigung!' you chime and continue reaching for the glass bottle.

"Entschuldigung," his slightly deeper (although still mid-pubescent) voice echoes as he reaches for the bottle. Your hands wrap around the neck as you stand together. Twin eyes flick from the bottle to each other. You relinquish the bottle and take a step back.

"Oh, I just wanted some soda." You offer kind of weakly

"Yeah, it was getting hot in the recording booth." He replies

"Oh, you're an artist. I thought you were some spoiled singer kid." You bend over to look for a different soda in the refrigerator and find that all that's left is carbonated lemonade. You ignore the gut feeling that the boy with your soda is checking your ass out. "So, are you a soloist?" You crack off the lid and flick it into a nearby trashcan

"No," I'm the guitarist at Tokio Hotel." You choke on your drink. "You don't know who I am?"

"You're Tom Kaulitz?" Your voice cracks as you point at him. You give yourself a chance to study his face, the lip piercing, the dreads, the eyes. He looks more normal than his usual promotional photos.

"You've probably heard this before, but I'm a really big fan." His face shows a wash of emotions before he settles on a bit of a snide smile.

"Really?" He steps a little closer, turning up the charm

"So are you some rich spoiled little nepo-girl. Usually, they make pretty hot babies." with his soda at his waist, he lifts your chin to look him in the eyes. "I mean, you're pretty hot, so you must be." you lean against the wall and tilt your hips toward his.

"Nein, I'm an artist. You're not too bad looking yourself, Tom Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel." You slowly take the Coca-Cola from his hand and take a sip. He gulps at the sight of you holding eye contact as you swallow. Slightly, you hand him back the bottle and duck out of his hold. He watches in awe as you strut to your recording booth. Tom rakes a hand down his face as he watches your ass move, and his band members join him in the break room.

"Who's the babe?' Gustav slings an arm over his shoulder

"My future wife." Tom holds back from a whimper exiting his mouth

[ggomos-maribat]

1 | a perfect day

Part 1 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

The place they reserved was beautiful: the greenhouse-type of dining with ferns and orchids hanging from the glass ceiling and walls, a lush green against the pristine white of their chairs and table napkins. The day was blessed with fair weather so just the right amount of sunlight was cascading down on them which fit the light hum of the festive music from the speakers. Even the hostess herself was a sight to behold—a flowery off-shoulder dress, curled brown hair, and pastel manicured nails.

Sabrina truly felt she was in another world.

Their hostess stood up, holding her wine glass in one hand. "I'd like to make a toast." She beamed. "To everyone here, who accepted my invitation for a humble reunion."

She looked at them on by one, first at Alya who seemed to cling at her every word, then moved down the table to Nino, Rose, Juleka, Max, Kim, and so on. These were faces of now acclaimed people, successful in their respective fields. "It seems it was just yesterday when we were only students in Ms. Bustier's class," she continued, "But in reality, we've been through a lot. Ups and downs, pains and losses. But I'm proud of us for sticking together, for keeping in touch after all these years."

A star in the social media field, and a proud founder and CEO of her brand. Lilia Ross. That was the alias she had been using when she was stepping into fame. But to Sabrina, she'll always be Lila, the charming girl who once was a transfer student in their class.

"To us!" Lila cheered, raising her glass up in the air. They all followed suit, some laughing a little and others bursting into lively conversation.

Sabrina took a sip of her drink, turning to her left. "It really has been so long, hasn't it, Chloe?"

The blonde appeared to be in some kind of stupor, but her friend's words shook her out of it. "Huh?"

"I said it's been so long."

Chloe rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Uh, yeah, you're right."

"Are you okay?"

She gave a smile of reassurance. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, it's just . . . stress from work."

Sabrina was about to suggest she get some rest first when the wooden doors opened, revealing another familiar face from their teen years. Large sweater over a collared piece. A priceless watch. Golden hair fixed to look stylishly unkempt.

The man greeted them, "Hey, I hope I'm not too late?"

At the head of the table, Lila's jaw dropped open. "A—Adrien?"

"That's me," he chuckled lowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Long time no see, everyone."

The others, too, couldn't mask their shock—understandably so. Adrien Agreste had been out of the public eye for the past seven months, halting his modeling career and laying low in god knows where. Even Sabrina couldn't remember when she had last seen him.

It was Alya who stood up, grabbing a seat for their new guest. "It's been so long!" She said. "Come here, sit. Where have you been and why were you so unreachable?"

"Yeah, man, I even tried visiting your old house in Paris. They said you weren't there." Kim, meanwhile, passed a plate to him.

"I'm really sorry for that." Adrien gave a sheepish look. "I was too focused on taking time for myself. I'm on hiatus from modeling—I didn't mean to cut everyone off. But I wanted to make it to this reunion!"

At that second, Sabrina's phone began to buzz a notification.

"It's alright to take a break sometimes," Mylene consoled. "Are you going back to modeling soon?"

Adrien shrugged. "I'm not sure yet; I might try out other things and see what works for me."

The phone vibrated again, a few times in succession this time.

"What about working with me?" Alix offered. "I need some extra hands around the museum. Minimal experience needed! I'll teach you everything I know."

The nth buzz sounded and Sabrina pulled out her phone from her purse to completely silence it but then she caught a glimpse of Chloe. She looked pale as a sheet, staring down at her unfinished plate.

Sabrina leaned. "Chlo—"

Buzz. Buzz.

Frowning, Sabrina unlocked her phone to check what the incessant ringing was all about. There were tweets, articles, posts, and messages filling up the screen like something had blown up. And something might as well have.

Her eyes widened when she tapped on an article.

Alya's voice rang out. She, too, was looking at her phone. "Hey, Lila, what's this all about?"

"Hm? Is it about my magazine feature?"

"No, it's not," Sabrina whispered.

There in bold letters the words were summoning up a storm: 'The Truth About Lilia Ross: She's Not Who You Think She Is' .

***

Saturday morning saw Jason Todd at the Wayne manor's dining table, munching on a piece of toast with jam. He stayed the night after patrol upon Alfred's insistence, and then remained for breakfast after some more badgering.

The second eldest raised an eyebrow when Bruce strolled into room wearing office clothes.

"Event at WE today," Bruce explained, making a coffee for himself. "Tim, feet off the table please."

Tim, who was stuck to his phone, let out an incoherent mumble before putting his feet down.

"Lilia Ross," uttered Bruce. "Does that name ring a bell?"

"French-Italian, founder and CEO of Lilia Designs, sells clothing and cosmetics," Tim supplied in a monotonous voice. "She's more famous as an influencer though. In the past few days, there have been a lot of rumors popping up about her. Why do you ask?"

"PR at WE asked me. They wondered if I knew her."

"What does she have to do with Wayne Enterprises?" Damian chimed in.

Celebrities and trends never piqued Jason's interest—he focused on eating, debating internally if he should purchase more handguns to replace a couple that he lost.

"She's been promoting our products even if she's not legally affiliated with WE," Tim explained whilst gulping down his daily dose of caffeine. "She's just trying to fish for a real sponsorship or partnership. Her brand's getting famous in Gotham, you know."

"It's not much of a concern for the company then. Our lawyers will be able to handle it if her so-called scandals affect WE," said Bruce.

"True, but it's still weird. This is her first major backlash on the internet and there's a lot of—" Tim did air quotes with his fingers, "—'anonymous witnesses' coming forward to show her 'true colors'."

"How is that different from the usual celebrity rumors?" asked Damian.

Okay, maybe Jason was a little curious.

He discreetly pulled his phone out to check the articles popping out online. And there were many, as if testimonies were spewing from a never-ending fountain.

'eiffelparis12: don't fall for it. she bought all those views and likes. fake *****'

'coffeecake: I worked as a stylist in a studio once. She was at our show...I didn't expect her to be so two-faced! She was so rude to the producer's assistant and kept bossing her around. The poor guy didn't even get to eat.'

'seaasss: her products arent even that good. lol.'

'venusred: she bought her way to be in our blog's feature. i'm pretty sure she has an anonymous sponsor.'

'harpyre: OMG! does she even pay her employees enough?'

'silverberry640: no way, lilia doesn't deserve this! there's no proof.'

'ngc5195: this is what fame does to all of them......sad.'

Jason looked up again when Bruce spoke. "For now, WE isn't obligated to proceed with legal action and we're not actually involved anyway. I'm sure this will pass on its own."

He wasn't wrong. Scandals came and went; people liked to throw stones at one person then move on to the next after the damage was done.

"Or not," Tim suddenly said, staring at something on his phone "Shit."

"What is it?" asked Bruce.

Tim read the words aloud. "Influencer Lilia Ross, accused of murdering former classmate." 

[queenofallimagines]

Meet cute~

Isagi x fem Reader

A/N: Morning to all the baddies✌🏿Nothing gets you in the mood to write than starting something brand new and not working on WIPs😘 based off a rly cute TikTok I saw I think isagi would be one of the ones to meet his S/O in a super cute way

CW: black reader but not rly focused on, bad grammar it’s like 4:45 am sorry,foreigner reader, was gunna sneak in like artist reader or something but the way it’s so ambiguous is cute, Bachira the pot stirrer, he also knows Spanish a little,U-20 captain isagi?? polyglot reader, She’s afro latino, Isagi falling in love at first sight. Let me know if I missed anything!

TAGLIST: @priv-rose

"Did you see the way shidou kicked rin?” Bachira could barely breathe as memories of today’s practice filled his mind— he looked over at isagi, who was shaking his head in faux disappointment, trying to hide a smile.

“Course i did, poor rin.” Isagi chuckled, running a hand through his hair. the striker was about to add onto his sentence but the feeling of someone bumping into him distracted him. he peered over his shoulder, a small smile on his face when he saw who it was. “mm… you good?”

Looking up at him with apologetic eyes she anxiously rushes out her words.

“Ah, im Sorry!”

“It's fine, it was an accident, it happens." Isagi smiled softly, and that smile would remain on his face even as he noticed her hair. his eyes lingered on it for a moment too long, taking in the way it was pushed out of her face, the colour of it.

“Nice hair."

“Huh?” He watches as she brings a hand up to her hair reflexively fidgeting with it. “oh uh thanks. I like yours too….”

“You do? thank you, it's nothing special." He smiled still staring down at her hair. he realized he was staring and cleared his throat. After a brief moment, he spoke. Trying to clear the awkwardness.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, where are you from?" He fumbles out awkwardly internally wincing at how nervous he sounded. But he was curious as to the way she spoke. her accent sounded familiar to him, almost foreign.

“I guess but it really suits you! Shapes your face really well. And, I mean… if you’re asking where I was before Japan I’m from America.”

“Oh you think so?" Isagi's cheeks had begun to turn red, he could feel the blood rushing to his face as he smiled sheepishly Rubbing the back of his neck.

‘America? He was right, he thought. She spoke differently.’

“Ahh, you're an American, yeah? Is that why you speak funny?" He teased playfully, smiling down at her. Watching her wince a little at his words and he immediately felt embarrassment wash over him. Saying she talked weird wasn’t really polite was it? He watches as she chuckles nervously at him.

“ah, kinda? America has a lot of different accents depending on region so I’m not sure which one takes precedence when I speak Japanese. Nodding his head in relief she didn't deny it, so isagi decided to continue with his questioning.

“Okay, but what region are you from? Are you from the South?" Tilting his head slightly, his eyebrow cocked, curiousity sparking in his eyes.He tries to hide his smile as he watches her face morph into shock. Her eyes were really pretty from where he was standing…

“That easy to tell huh?”

“Yeah." Isagi snickers, he continued. "The way you speak….it's different— a lot more laidback, but not like the Tokyo-y, or Osaka accents. The American accent isn't quite heavy, but not super light either. There's no way it’s something like Texas, Florida, or California, but I'd guess somewhere in the South, closer to the South-east. Am I right?" Looking at her expectantly he can’t help but get lost in her eyes.

“….. Spot on again. I moved from Texas but I was born and raised in the east coast so sometimes I’m New York sometimes I sound more like Houston or New Orleans. Depends on the words I’m saying and how fast I’m talking.” He was actually surprised that he'd managed to guess correctly not one, but twice! With the way the corners of his lips crept upwards, he didn't realize how much he liked talking to her. As the conversation continued, he found himself smiling.

“Wow, so you're just all over the place huh, like a rainbow?" His heart fluttered hearing her giggle reach his ears. It sounded so melodious.

“yep!” Humming in thought he shoots her a smirk. “It'd be interesting to hear how you speak, like if you were super angry or something." The black haired boy teased, not realizing the flirtatious implication it could have.

“I’ve been told I talk faster and with more force so probably New York. And then I speak Spanish too so definitely that.” At the mention of her being able to speak a third language, Isagi's eyes widened. He leaned closer his curiosity growing.

“You can speak Spanish?"

“Mhm. My family is Latin American so Spanish fluency runs through my family.”

Isagi's eyes twinkled with an undeniable sparkle of curiosity. he was definitely intrigued. He’s only heard some of the players on opposing teams he’d play curse at him in Spanish but never actual full on sentences. his lips curved upwards slightly. "Can you speak it right now? If you don't mind." He watches as her eyes far around for a second before letting his again. He felt a little bad for putting her on the spot like that but not bad enough to take it back.

“Oh uh sure. Uhh” She hums for a second before clearing her throat.

“Hola, isagi y bachira. Encantado de conoceros. Los dos sois muy guapos.”

(Hi, isagi and bachira. Nice to meet you both. You are both very handsome)

Isagi's eyes widened with amazement, a look of pure joy on his face. he clapped his hands together. “That's amazing! You speak it so well!" His face flushed at the compliment.

“You know what, I have a question for you." His grin grew into a bigger, brighter smile. Her way of speaking had a certain musical quality to it. He watched her closely all the while, his eyes taking her in, and listening to the way she spoke. She'd said something about them being handsome he thinks? He looked at Bachira who'd been witnessing the conversation the entire while, he noticed his friend's eyebrows raise slightly, and a small smile come onto his lips.

‘Did she just call us handsome?’ Bachira mouthed to him. He knows Bachira definitely isn’t fluent playing in Spain and spending time around Lavinho he must’ve picked up on some. He understands it better than he does English anyway. Feeling his heart racing he looks at her without missing a beat.

"Can I try something?" His gaze didn't waver from the way her lips curved at the sides, her smile being a mere testament of her good features.Quirking an eyebrow at him she looks at him confused for a second before cautiously replying.

“Okay?”

“Say my name." Isagi said, his words laced with a soft breath. Taking half a step closer he watched her lips closely, taking in how each syllable looked as it left her lips. He heard her breath hitch as those beautiful eyes widen looking up at him.

“Yo- I mean Isagi Yoichi.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the way she said his name. he'd told her to do so, he'd expected it, but the way she'd said his name had his heart beating out of his chest..

"Say Bachira." She chuckles smiling at him confused but obliging him anyway.

“Bachira.” Isagi's gaze remained fixated as he watched her lips form each syllable. He was enjoying this and his brain hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he was enjoying this.

“Say your own name." She smiles at him before speaking her own name. He can’t help the shiver that runs up his spine. The way the words flowed out of her mouth like honey, her tongue curling around every vowel. He would do anything to hear her talk forever if he could. The way her accent was almost hypnotic to his ears. It seemed even her name had no special effect on him.

“I have to tell you, your accent is so cute." He tilted his head slightly as he continued.

"One more thing." The stunned look on her face had him biting back a smile. That deer in headlights look was absolutely precious. It wasn’t until then did he notice the difference between them. The way she looked up at him made something inside him go absolutely wild.

“Oh. Uh thanks.”

“How about you say... isagi yoichi is an absolute cutie?" He teased playfully. He knew when saw her flustered face he had to tease her just a bit more. Like if he’s gunna try and shoot his shot he’s going to put himself at an advantage. Grinning, he was having so much fun, he forgot Bachira was watching the two of them carefully now. His eyes darting back and fourth between the two.

“Yoichi Isagi es precioso.”

The athlete felt his heart stop. He wasn't actually expecting her to do it! And so quickly without any hesitation. He was stunned into silence. His jaw had dropped and his cheeks were blazing bright. Bachira hadn't missed or misread what had just happened. He laughed quietly, a smile tugging at his lips.

‘Damn.. Did that really just happen? Talk about matching energy.’

She laughing seeing his flushed face. He looked like he was trying to find words but forgot how to speak at all.

“Uh,you ok?” Isagi who was was still blushing, lifted the corners of his mouth tilted upwards in embarrassment and joy. Bachira was just barely holding back a laugh. When he found his voice he finally managed to speak after a moment.

“Y-yes. I'm very okay." Isagi's voice was still laced with embarrassment, but he continued anyway. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?" His voice still laced with embarrassment, but there was genuine curiosity behind it now. He tries to steady his heart as he looks at her expectantly. He watches as she looks at him surprised stuttering out her words.

“W- I- no?? Like I don’t. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Isagi nodded, his mind reeling. This day was wild already, she was flirting with him, he was flirting with her– it was really something else. He couldn't deny that the idea of her not being taken was something that gave him the confidence to continue.

"You don't?" He asked again, this time a little slower just to hear her say it. His eyebrows rose, his cheeks were hot with embarrassment, his mind began to race. Deep blue eyes remained on her, he couldn't help staring. He didn't need any other confirmation other than this. he smiled softly, trying to hide just how happy her answer made him.

“Oh, So that means there's no one who'd come and beat me up if I asked you out?" He asked her jokingly, but his voice still remained soft.

“o-oh uh no that wouldn’t happen….” Smiling wider as he caught onto the fact that she'd blushed. She was too adorable, the way her eyes were looking at everything but him. Her hands nervously pulling at her shirt. That, and her soft, smooth voice was sending him into a state of bliss.. And he was starting to get carried away. His grin grew.

“Wellll... Can I ask you something then?"

“Y-yeah?” Shyly looking up at him he noticed the tips of her ears looking red.

“Would you like to go out with me?" He had put all his cards out on the table now and was waiting in anticipation as he asked her. He could hardly believe that he'd gotten to the point of asking her this. His heart was beating out of his chest and there was something happening in his stomach. It wasn't pleasant... The nerves were eating away at him.

“Mhm….i would.” Isagi felt his breath catch in his throat as she agreed. His cheeks were heated, his palms were sweaty, his fingers were trembling. He couldn't breathe. Everything about this felt surreal, there had to be a catch. But, no. It was really happening, he really just asked her out on a date and she agreed.

“Really?" He watches intently as she rocks on the heels of her feet looking away from him. “Mhm.”

His heart was still beating out of his chest. His whole body felt tingly as his cheeks grew hotter. Her answer had taken him by surprise, it'd been a lot easier than he thought it'd be to ask her. His eyes were drawn towards her lips, they were so cute and looked so soft…

Just before he could say anything though, Bachira coughed.

"Isagi?"

Jolting she glances over at him flushing in embarrassment forgetting he was there. She’d completely put all her focus on the boy flirting with her. Bachira looked more like an amused observer, his lips curled up into a small smile. Isagi was flustered to have been caught staring, he snapped out of his thoughts to glance over at him. He felt his face grow even more hot.

“W-what?"

He felt a wave of embarrassment slack him in the face as his friend’s laughter rang out. he'd been enjoying watching what was going on behind the scenes. Bachira's teasing was usually directed towards Isagi, who was easy to tease. So, seeing him be the one getting teased for once and being affected this much by was entertaining.

"You're all red, man.." Bachira teased, the corners of his lips remained curled upwards.He whips his head around to hear the girl snickering at him, hand over her mouth.

“Shut up." Isagi tried his best to sound annoyed, but his voice came out sounding flustered. He was very flustered, he was still red like a tomato. His mind couldn't seem to come up with anything else.. The only thing his body was focused on was her. Her pretty face, her soft voice, her sweet smile, her laugh…. Flinching he felt her grab his hand and he froze.

“Here.”

His heart skipped a beat as she grabbed his hand and held it firmly. He couldn't help, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. Was she really holding his hand? Her touch was so soft... her grip was gentle, yet firm.. He found himself trying not to close his eyes in that brief moment. She steps closer to him turning to hold her hand in front of him. He was hoping she couldn’t feel his heart beating out of his chest as her back pressed up against his chest. He feels frozen where he stands as she writes her name and number across his wrist.

“How about you can decide after you win your next game yeah? I’ll be watching so don’t disappoint me.”

His eyes remained on her as she wrote her number down on his wrist, their thumbs grazing together and sliding together for a brief moment. The feel of her grip on his wrist had Isagi's body tingling and his mind racing. He was taken aback by her gesture, but his mind was only focused on one thing right now. She wanted to watch him? She'd be there... watching him? Isagi couldn't help, he grinned, his pulse was rising. Once she finished she moved away from him letting his wrist fall. Capping the pen she held she tapped the end on his nose smiling at him.

“Don’t disappoint me now pretty.” Isagi was startled by her words. For the first time in his life, he was called pretty. His cheeks went red and that one word alone caused his entire world to stop moving around him, he felt so warm.

“I don't plan on it. You'll see, I'll be impressive." He said, his tone was much more confident than he'd meant to sound. She rolled her eyes at him letting a huff leave her lips.

“I’ll definitely hold you to that Mr egoist.”

“Oh?" Smirking he was aware that she was teasing him.He chuckled as it was his turn. “You have no idea..I'm gonna do my damn best to go all out in the game and win." He was already confident. His ego was growing, but he didn't mind that. He had every right to be confident with the skills that he had. His cocky smile remained on his lips.

“I expect to see you there?" He watches as she swallows hard looking up at him. She felt her face heat up at the look of determination in his eyes.

“y-yeah definitely. I’ll keep my eyes on you the whole time….”

Now isagi could feel the adrenaline running through veins. This was all so new to him, the way she was acting so flirty, the way her eyes were on him and her cheeks were flushed just by his look.. The way she was talking right now was making his whole world spin again. Smiling he was enjoying the feel of all those butterflies. He let go of her hand finally and he looked away for a second.

“Okay, then. I guess I'll see you there." He finally said as he turned to leave. Clutching his jacket in hopes to stop his heard from beating so loudly in his ears. He was on cloud 9 and he couldn’t even process this moment being real.

“Yeah… bye yoichi. See you there.” Isagi waved at her, turning to exit. He felt her eyes still lingering on him as he went. His mind was filled with so many thoughts right now. He couldn't believe that he'd done that, he couldn't believe that it had happened... But, it did happen. He had got a date. He had a date with the prettiest girl he'd ever met. That didn't seem real, and he couldn't be happier about it. As he left the gym, Bachira was waiting for him with a smug look on his face.

“You got a date?" Bachira asked, watching him as he approached. Isagi's cheeks were glowing bright red, his grin was infectious. "Shut-up." Isagi snapped back, clearly feeling flustered still. His hands were trembling ever so slightly and he was aware that it was all over his facial expressiosn. He attempted to hide his emotions but to no avail, he was just too excited for his own good.

“Awwwww Come on, you can't lie! I can see it all over you, your face is bright red and your lips got this dumb grin on em. You're down bad when you're flustered, and the way she was looking at you? Yeah, you got a date." Bachira said excitedly as he watched his friend trying his best to hide his emotions.

“Shut. up." He said, a hint of frustration in his voice. Isagi didn't want to acknowledge that his friend was right, but he had a point. He was right. Isagi could still feel her hand on his wrist. He felt like he could still feel her breath on his skin. His cheeks were red, his hands were shaking. All because this damn date.

[crabsnpersimmons]

Hello there!

I'd like to know your advice on drawing tablets?

As in, what do you use for your digital art? Is there any you suggest?

I'm planning on getting one, but there are so many options, and I'd like to know your opinion and preference.

Thank you ^^

hi anon! thanks for the question!

i draw with a samsung galaxy tab s7!

BUT if this is your first time drawing digitally, then it's a good idea to test out if you like it with cheaper options first (so you don't drop a whole lot of money on a hobby/medium of art you don't enjoy)

some suggestions:

if you have a smart phone, try drawing with your finger using free to use drawing apps like ibispaint X or HiPaint (i recommend HiPaint cuz the UI is a lot simpler and less overwhelming, but both have a good selection of tools. i wanna say ibispaint has better text tools tho and there's A LOT more tutorials and resources online) drawing digitally with your finger is different from drawing digitally with a pen AND drawing traditionally, but this is a good way to familiarize yourself with digital art tools. a very simple entry point if you already have a smart phone.

if you don't want to draw with your finger (understandable, i personally couldn't stand it) you can try simple drawing tablets, which are the tablets that you plug into your computer/laptop, come with a pen, but they don't have a screen you draw directly on. they're actually a lot more affordable nowadays (i saw some for under $50 CAD, which is WILD), so that’s a good starting option if you want to draw with a pen. with a pen, you have more control with line weights than you do with your finger, but it takes practice to get used to. it also takes some getting use to drawing on a tablet and looking at your monitor, but this is where i started haha. i still have my old bamboo wacom create drawing tablet. but nowadays, other brands like xp-pen and huion are very comparable to wacom, so definitely consider getting a cheaper one to try out first. of course, if you go with a drawing tablet, you'll need an art program on your computer. i've used photoshop and clip studio paint and they're very good, but probably overwhelming for people who are new to digital art (they are loaded with tools and you have to really familiarize yourself with the menus and everything). there are probably simpler options available... but i'm not as familiar with them. oh wait, i think there are some drawing tablets that can also connect with your smart phone too nowadays. man, that's so cool. that's probably a better option instead of purchasing photoshop or clip studio paint right off the bat.

if you REALLY want a screen display experience, try a cheaper general tablet. iPads are a popular option if you're comfortable with the Apple ecosystem (i'm not 😅) but they can be pricey PLUS you have to buy the Apple pen separately. for Android, I'm pretty sure even the Samsung Galaxy Tab S6 is a solid choice and it comes with a pen unlike an iPad. the SPen is built with Wacom tech, so you know it's quality. and while iPad has Procreate, HiPaint is available for Android and it's basically a Procreate clone (i explain more about HiPaint here) otherwise, ibisPaint X is also good and infinite painter is probably the most sophisticated free to use drawing app i've encountered (sophisticated as in it does a pretty good job at imitating traditional media in their brushes. it's cool, but the free version is very limited).

also if you like watching videos, Brad Colbow and Teoh on Tech on YouTube are great resources. they specifically review tech from an artist's perspective.

why i suggest testing it out is because if you're used to drawing traditionally, then switching to digital is a different experience. some artists can't get used to drawing digitally, and that's fine. that's why it's a good idea to test it out with a cheaper option first to see if you like it and to give yourself time to familiarize yourself with drawing apps/programs. i actually kinda hated drawing digitally at first. i didn't have the same level of control that i was used to with drawing traditionally. and overtime i made a lot of bad habits with my digital art that i had to unlearn by switching back to traditional art for a couple years (some bad habits like: relying on the Undo button to make "perfect" lines; trying to draw really fast because the pen glides over the screen unlike a pencil has friction against paper) so... give it a try and just let yourself have fun. don't worry about making anything perfect, just have fun!

[luneariaa]

Hi there! I hope you're doing great! Could you write hc of ash lynx x fem reader? Which reader is exactly like gus fring in breaking bad. She is kind to people close to her but not with people like dino. She looks innocent and cute but not inside.

Sorry it's long. Please take your time. Thanks!!

HIII-!! 💜 thank you so much dear anon, hoping you are too! 💛🌻 you're fine,, and this is the first Ash req that i received actually,, (o´▽`o) ✨

honestly, i'm not too familiar with breaking bad, but did some quick research on the charac and stuff,, also, this is my first hc type of post so i hope this is alright! ( oh and Ash might be ooc here as well,, ) and i may have stray too far.. XD LMAO THIS TURNED OUT TO BE LONG AND OFF TOPIC AS IT PROGRESSES MY BAD--

also tagging : @bagelbanana and @r-e-m-i !! i've seen you both commenting on my old Ash post bef 💜🌻

- dividers by @/cafekitsune!! 🌻

to start with, your looks could deceive most people. some would assume that you're just a cute, regular girl roaming down the streets, when in fact, you weren't.

so this leads to some guys ( or so ) flirting and trying to make a move on you. as disgusting as you find them, you had to agree in a oh-so-sweet manner, giving them a certain location as to where to find you.

of course, when they arrived there expecting for some sort of a 'date' with you, they're receiving their dead end instead.

guys like that don't deserve any mercy, or that's how you have it personally set within your own mind. ( totally not projecting )

but also i think since you can't just carry a gun with you all the time, you instead carry some sort of a small switchblade.

i imagined that you, despite your quite young age ( maybe around 16-17 or so ), are able to manage your own restaurant, to which originally was owned by your father, who is a drug dealer of some sort. your mother is unknown.

because of how successful your father's business is with the drugs, you became the main target of the ones who planned to take down your father.

due to how busy he is, he wasn't that close to you. so you were left to fend mostly by your own.

he did train you a bit for some time, but eventually, he let a certain Kazakh professional assassin; Blanca to train you instead.

and i feel like Blanca lowkey wants to go a bit softer at you during training, and of course, you didn't want any of that honestly. your relationship with him is pretty alright, and you both pretty much respected each other at some point.

and there you met Ash himself, when Blanca was also assigned to train him by Dino Golzine.

okay so, i'd like to think that at first, you and Ash are quite skeptical towards one another. not being too familiar still.

but that changes over time, of course.

it started by that one, random sunny day; you and Ash accidentally arrived early at the private training grounds where Blanca was supposed to train you both.

the two of you ended up conversing with each other-- Ash being the one who possibly initiates the convo first.

perhaps it started with a compliment. maybe the brand new shoes that you're wearing? the view; weather? or even just random small talks. it's still an effort nonetheless.

you're highly aware of the current reputation he holds as the gang leader of the city. it doesn't faze you much, as long as he remains nice to you.

and because of this, you sometimes do heard about Dino himself. back then, you didn't really pay any mind, but did recall that one time where your father said that he did some sort of a drug business with him etc..

but by the way he is regarded, you feel downright disgusted. selfish, ruthless even. but is well aware not someone to be provoked on.

so despite all of that, you remain well-mannered in a way. for the time being, that is. ( unless something or he crosses the line )

but i can't deny the fact that i imagined that you might be finding yourself doing the side-eye at him while he speaks with others; even having the urge to throw some insults or sarcastic remarks at him. but refrain from doing so just yet.

you hate him so so much because of what he did to Ash too.

overall, you despised people like Dino for existing on the surface of the Earth.

SOME BONUSES ( bc lowkey low on idea rn HAHA ) :-

Shorter seemed like he would probably flirt with you at times, but you just laughed it off because it's like a normal thing now.

but Ash def isn't impressed.

knowing how long you and Ash have been training with each other, he silently grew fond and protective of you, despite you can handle yourself fine. i mean, you did manage a whole restaurant by yourself, after all.

oh and yes, Eiji's a precious boy!! you would 1000000% get along with him! <3

but be careful when hanging out around Eiji every so often; Ash might've steal you away from him. ( totally not jealous at all )

all of them def will hang out on your restaurant often when they're able to! 💛

also, random but i can see Ash is the type of guy to let his arm rest around your shoulders; doesn't matter while you're sitting or even standing. he would still do it out of habit.

i couldn't think of a proper confession or anything further romance related rn, but he will 1000000% take you out for a ride on his bike pretty often, especially during late nights <33

stargazing together?? heck yes!!

sometimes you just wanted to join Ash in whatever mission thingy or stuff he has to do or so; and of course, he would agree, but still deep down worried about your safety in general. ( maybe at some times, he would straight up refuse your offer. )

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[vibratingskull]

Can I request a human f-reader x Thrawn. Reader is a famous HoloNet actor. She is intrigued by Thrawn and flirts with him a bit. He asked her to go to an art gallery with him and she does. I leave the rest to you🙂

You certainly expected some fluff, but instead you'll get Thrawn realizing he needs therapy

Thrawn x f!reader

You wrap a part of your expensive coat over your figure while checking the time.

Any minutes now.

You readjust your sunglasses on your nose, careful to hide your identity. You got so much paparazzi after you lately. Not surprising for an actor of your standing but still as annoying. 

Nobody should have followed you to an art museum, you’re more known to frequent the high restaurants and private clubs, not galleries. It should be a breath of fresh air for you, changing you from the daily routine.

The idea comes from the gentleman that you're waiting for, a polite Grand Admiral with blue skin and burning red eyes. He titillated your curiosity, he was truly an oddity in the system, how an alien could have become a Grand Admiral? You desperately wanted to know more, especially considering that he was a new face in this old and familiar gotha, a little bit of fresh blood. He was the only gentleman to not indulge in your cleavage the night of your meeting, which you appreciated and tried to get to know him better, although the press immediately labeled you a man eater for coming after the rising star of the year.

You sigh.

This stupid reputation is impossible to shake off, just because you found a new boyfriend too quickly after a rupture in the eyes of the public. Now every man under the sun expects you to sleep with them and is just waiting for their turn. 

Idiots!

But not him.

He just patiently talked to you like he would have done anyone else, explaining his passion for art in minute details. He was calm when he talked to you but you could see the fire of his passion in his eyes as he spoke. You listened to him all night… When you revealed you didn’t know much about art he seemed a bit disappointed, but he smiled when you accepted his proposition to discover the latest art exhibition.

So here you are, waiting on the front steps of a museum with large sunglasses despite the rain, waiting for a mysterious gentleman for a delicate soiree full of knowledge and delicacies.

Or at least you hope. 

You shiver with the wind and wrap yourself in your coat. Your stilettos are killing you, but your agent would kill you even more if you were surprised outside not wearing the latest trend of the luxurious brands.

“Lady (F/n)?” ask a deep melodic voice.

You raise your gaze to meet deep red orbs.

“Ah! Grand Admiral Thrawn, you’re right on time!” you praise him.

You check back your chrono, he’s in time down to the second! You blink, incredulous.

“Shall we go inside?” he proposes, offering his arm for support.

He ditched the white uniform for a burgundy turtleneck and white jacket, much more casual and, thankfully, discreet. 

You take his arm with a smile, it eases the pain in your feet a bit.

“Yes! And by the way, I’m not a lady, I’m an actress, “miss” would do just fine.”

“But you are a famous actress, some call you a treasure of the cinema. Would it not be impolite to refer to you as anything else than a Lady?”

“Well, you have my explicit permission to refer to me as "miss "."

“Very well.” he nods, understanding.

He guides you inside the Museum with warm light and cold marble. You take off your glasses and hat.

“Is it wise?” he asks, concerned.

“Nobody expects me here, so they won’t see me.” you explain “Plus, out of the two you’re the most noticeable one!” you tease.

“You are probably right, miss.” he smiles lightly.

“So? What are we going to see?”

“You did not investigate the subject of the exhibition?” He raises an eyebrow.

You pout then smile at him, if you were a child you would have stuck your tongue out to him.

“Of course I know, but you were so passionate the other night when you talked about art, I was hoping to ignite the fire again.”

“I am passionate when I speak about art? I always thought I remained calm and collected to not disturb others.”

“You are calm and collected, but something immediately ignited in your gaze when you spoke about it, like a spark of a flame. It was fascinating to see!”

He tilts his head and holds his chin like he’s thinking.

“I never saw myself as fascinating, I am surprised you would define me in those terms.”

“Well it was very much the other night. You spoke all night long, we didn’t change the subject once!” you laugh.

“I… I am sorry if it bothered you. I will try to remain focused tonight.” he says almost pathetically. He seems genuinely surprised to have his demeanor pointed at, even in positive lights.

“Don’t be. I came here to see the art nerd that you can be. Now let’s go!” You grasp his arm firmer and pull him into the gallery.

___________________________________________________

He never shuts up.

He always has something to say about a piece.

He’s really lucky you find this absolutely adorable.

Even though, to be fair, you’re not helping him to shut up with all your questions. Each time he finishes speaking you ask something, putting a coin in the machine again and he goes for another 15 to 20 minutes of explanations.

You ask as much because you're curious than because you revel in him talking. He has such a voice… you refrain from biting your lips in front of him.

At some point you sit down on a bench, in front of a painting he’s explaining to you, but you have eyes only on his haughty profile, such majesty in his features, such fineness… 

“You are not listening.” he finally lets out.

“I have never been so focused in my life.” you breathe.

“Despite that, you are not looking at the paintings.”

“I have found another piece of art, much more interesting.” you whisper with a sugary voice.

“Really? Where?” he asks with sparkling eyes, looking over the room to find it.

You can’t help but giggle.

He’s so cute.

“I am talking about you, Grand Admiral.” your lips caresses his ear and you put the emphasis on his title.

He turns back to you with… Surprise? Concern? You don’t know but he certainly gots an expression right now.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” you insist.

Maybe he’s just a bit headstrong.

“I do not follow.”

You purse your lips. What? He’s playing with you?

“What do you not follow? You proposed to me on a date in an art gallery and here I am! As you wished! I’m just going with the flow.”

“I…” now he does seem surprised “I wanted to show you the exhibition.”

What is he…

Oh.

Oh….

“You…” you let out “You didn’t… You wanted… You were just interested in the gallery?”

“Yes.”

Ouch.

This one hurts.

You feel the wave of shame of rejection washing over you. You cross your arms to hug yourself.

“I am sorry if you thought it was something else.” He says infuriatingly gently “It never crossed my mind, I-”

“Yes, okay, no need to twist the knife!” you answer abruptly.

He seems taken aback, but you can’t look him in the eyes now.

You’re so embarrassed!

“You do not understand, it didn’t cross my mind because… I do not define myself outside of my work. Such prospects and opportunities… evade me constantly.” He tries to explain.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow. What is he on about?

He seems as embarrassed as yourself, like a deer between headlights.

“I just work constantly to reach my goals. And outside of that my life is empty.” He continues.

You open your eyes round.

“Do you realize how sad that sounds?” you finally ask after a minute of embarrassed silence.

“It hitted me as I spoke, yes.” he simply says, eyes in the void “But that is how it is.”

You would have never imagined that, him who was so full of confidence the other night, seemed like someone with a life full and exciting, meeting people at every corner. 

“You have nothing? Absolutely nothing? Not even a friend?” you inquire.

“I do have a friend, several even.” he says quietly.

You’re not convinced at all.

“What do you do all day?”

“I work.���

“And during your leisure times?”

“I work… and go to art galleries”

“You don’t meet people?”

“People rarely want to be disturbed when at a museum, and I am often absorbed by the pieces.”

So it’s none? Nada? Zero? You’re suddenly very worried for him now.

“So you never go to a cinema with your friends? You don’t go on coffee dates? You don’t lounge with a loved one?”

“No.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” you press him.

“No.” he responds, but it looks like his situation downs on him.

“You-”

You’re silenced by a flash that burns your eyes.

“What the?”

Then suddenly, an armada of flashes crackles around you as you try to protect your eyes.

Paparazzis!

You curse yourself, they find you!

As you're about to shout at them to leave you Thrawn seizes your hand and starts running. You follow him the best you can with your heels through the long corridors of the gallery, you hear the crowd of journalists following, their steps thundering behind you.

Hurry!

You’re being thrown into a dark room with Thrawn following. You hear the army of journalists passing by the door as you try to catch your breath from the sudden sprint. You’re in some sort of space for brooms and vacuums, a staff only area.

“It was an error to come here.” Thrawn finally says, having recovered his stern and calm demeanor. He looks at you with a hard gaze, making you shiver.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“You tricked me. You knew I do not navigate well in politics and took advantage of it.”

“Wha- What are you on about?” you’re completely lost.

“I have heard the Ministry of propaganda is pulling the strings between certain entities of the State to strengthen the message and offer an appearance of coalition to the population. A Grand Admiral and a famous seductress actress on a date must be perfect for them.”

You look at him with round eyes.

So that’s what he truly thought, that you manipulated him to go on a date for journalists to take juicy pictures of two famous figures of the Empire happy together. You’ve heard of that last communication campaign of the Propaganda Ministry, but you didn’t pay it any attention. Now you understand better the enthusiasm of your agent when you told them you had a date with Thrawn.

Maker damn it! How could you have been so blind?

“Listen, I am sorry. I never planned for it to happen, I swear the only hope I had when coming here was to know you better.”

He looks at you like he’s gauging you, but you don’t back down.

“It’s true, I would have not trapped you like that. I know how annoying it can be to have them on your back and having your image manipulated to fit a narrative.”

He raises an eyebrow after a long minute of silence.

“You do not seem to be lying.” he finally admits.

“I am not. I am as surprised as you are.” you insist.

“Alright, I will concede you this point. I-”

He cuts out, grasps your arm again and pulls you against his broad chest, pressing you both against the wall. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when the door opens, letting light enter the dark room, but you’re protected by the back of the door and invisible.

It’s a paparazzi, still looking for you apparently.

“Hey! That is a staff only room, get out!” you hear a voice behind them, and they close back the door leaving you both alone.

You let out your breath, but you don’t budge from your position, pressed against his large chest, maybe a bit cheekily you let your palm on his breast. You feel safe in his arms.

Strangely he doesn’t release you, but he seems too concentrated on the sound of steps out of the room to even realize it, maybe he thinks the danger is not away enough.

You raise your head to admire his profile, his shining red eyes in the dark. You can smell his cologne, a mix of chemistry scents, lavender and honey. He smells really good.

He finally lets you go, looking down at you from his height.

“I am sorry for this abrupt reaction.” he presents his excuses.

“No, it’s nothing. You got really sharp reflexes.” you praise him timidly, a bit intimidated by his stature. “Hum… You know, I can teach you, if you want?” you try.

“What do you mean?”

“To take time for yourself, to relax properly. If you trust me enough, of course…”

It’s been a while since you served such bad pick up lines, but something tells you he won’t pick up on that.

“I told you my life pleased me like that.” he blocks you with.

“Really? You did not seemed that certain back on the bench, in all honesty you seemed more lost than anything else.” you counter.

“It is just-” He says angrily but he instantly calms down.

Clearly he’s not used to having his life dissected like that by someone else, contrary to you.

“I am content with this situation.” he finishes more gently.

“You are content, but are you happy?”

“My happiness does not matter.”

“Wha… Of course it does!” you say furious.

“No, it never has and it never will, my goals are more important.”

“Do your goals take you so much time that you can’t even indulge yourself with a friend?”

“I told you I have friends here.”

“Really, how many?”

“Two.”

You never heard something that sad in a while.

“Let me guess, those plentiful two friends are also your colleagues?”

“Yes.”

You have the sudden urge to shake him violently.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you TRULY hear yourself?”

“I do. But what I fail to understand is why you care so much about my life.” he answers placidly.

“I don’t know?! Maybe because I met a nice gentleman one night and he seemed polite and gentle? And I hoped to know him better? Maybe more? And then he just dumped on me the most heartbreaking situation I ever heard off and he says he’s contempt with it? What I know for sure it’s that if he didn’t clumsily propose to me on a date we would not be in this situation in the first place!” You shout.

He seems to bite the inside of his cheek, looking straight into your eyes.

“It is useless.” he finally says and extends his hand towards the knob of the door.

“WAIT!” you stop him. “Wait. I shouldn't have said that, but you telling me your happiness didn’t matter got to me.” you explain trying to hold him back.

He looks at you once more, gathering the pros and cons of staying with you in this closet.

He finally turns fully to you and clasps his hands behind his back.

“I am listening.”

“It’s just… It’s heartbreaking to hear. How could you say that about yourself?”

“You know nothing of my situation.”

“And nobody will if you don’t let them reach you. Why would you say that? Why would your happiness not matter? You’re a Grand Admiral of the Empire, you have the right to be happy too.”

“It is interesting that you list my standing as a condition, would my happiness not count for you if I was not a Grand Admiral?”

You wince, he’s really gonna fight you on semantics right now?

“What I mean is everyone’s happiness matters. Why yours would not?”

“I already told you, my goals are far more important.”

“But why would one have to clash with the other? Why not reaching your goals and be happy?”

“Maybe my future happiness depends on my success in reaching my goals, did you think of that?”

“What kind of grand goal are you pursuing to neglect yourself like that?”

“Security. Absolute control over the uncertainty of the universe to protect each life from greater evil.”

“For the Empire?

“For everyone.”

“But you do realize it is impossible, right?” You try reasoning him “You will never be able to control each parameter to the degree of perfection needed to provide security as you envision it? You’re just running a race you’re bound to lose.”

“Maybe. It will not prevent me from trying.” He doesn’t let go.

“You will just burn yourself, consuming your soul to complete annihilation. It is not sustainable.”

“Somebody has to.” He simply remarks, but you hear a touch of sadness in his voice despite his clear gaze.

“It doesn’t have to be you.”

“It might as well be. I was the only one worrying about it back there and I am the only one worrying now.”

“Back there?” you remark.

“Forget it! My point is: I am the only one capable of doing it, I am the only capable of carrying the weight of what it entails, I am the only one capable of paying the cost.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” 

Now you’re just sad. Does he truly have to bear all of that or did he convince himself he had a higher mission than everyone else?

“Be not mistaken, I am aware of my own capacities and limitations. That is why I am the only one fitting the job.”

“You speak so highly of yourself for someone who looked so shaken back on the bench. Do you have to bear this weight alone?”

“But I am not alone. I have my two friends, or “colleagues” as you called them with an acid tone.”

You purse your lips. He gots the thickest head you ever met! 

“Are three people really sufficient to save the universe?”

“I have got a whole system behind me to help me in my quest.”

“And that system will still be here for you once you’re done?”

“It will welcome me back with open arms.”

Welcoming back ? Then he's not talking about the Empire ? Then who ? His people that exiled him ? 

"And while you're here ? Who takes care of you ? Who dresses your wounds ? Who hugs you during hard times?" 

"I take care of myself. Like I said, I alone can bear the weight of that mission." 

"And why do you do it ? For a medal ? For recognition ?" 

He shakes his head. 

"Sometimes hard work bears its own fruits. I do it because it is necessary."

You lower your shoulders. He doesn't budge whatever you say, you can't get to him. 

It's disheartening to see.

“So that’s all? You’re just gonna let yourself fall as long as you win?”

“Who says I am falling?”

“You did, when you negated your own worth as an individual being and right to happiness.”

“Are you not a tad dramatic?”

You pout.

“I’m an actress. That is my job to be dramatic, but that also means I’m good at picking up when someone is masking and playing a comedy.”

“So you hypothesize I am masking and playing a comedy to the rest of the universe?”

“I don’t hypothesize, I affirm it and you’re playing it to yourself.”

He remains silent.

“I don’t know how you manage to do it, but you convinced yourself that your worth was measured by your success in your career and your capacities to carry out your duties…”

He raises an eyebrow without stopping you.

“But that is not how things work, you matter as an individual being and your worth exceeds your success and failures. I don’t know how to tell it for you to take it seriously but you need therapy. A LOT of therapy.”

He holds his chin, pensively.

“Well, we got therapists for post traumatic stress in the Navy.”

You shake your head. Well at least he didn’t outright reject the idea.

“No. It’s deeper than post traumatic stress, you must be carrying that since far longer.”

“Oh, you are a therapist yourself?” He slightly grin.

You give him a black look.

“I’m serious, Grand Admiral.”  

“Let us say I follow your advice. I go on therapy and then what? Will you be happy?”

“And then I don’t know. Try gardening, write a book, fuck someone and dump them the next day, try all the coffees of Coruscant, collect dvd’s, find yourself new hobbies. Live for yourself for once.”

“And find new friends?” He teases again.

“Yes! Plenty of friends, build yourself a new system dedicated to your well being.”

“And you hope you will be among them?”

You shrug.

“Why not? You stayed to listen to me in this little closet, why not continue over a beer or a coffee?”

“Well, it is an interesting proposition.” He grins “You got some boldness to suggest a Grand Admiral of the Empire needs therapy and friends.”

You grin back.

“Keep me in your circle and you’ll see what I am truly capable of.”

His grin vanishes as he recovers his collected attitude. You see a touch of pain in his gaze.

“What you suggest will take years of unmaking.”

You extend your hand to him with a comforting smile.

“Taking care of one self is a battle of every moment. And that is why having friends is important, to support you through your inner changes.”

He looks at your hand, considering it.

“Is it a pure proposition, or are you hoping for more?”

You wince, he didn’t lose track of that little point. He’s less clueless than you hoped.

“No, you’re right.” You choose honesty, you don’t want to tell him lies “I have hopes it leads to something more.”

He remains silent once more, lowering his head.

“I can not promise anything.”

“I know, but aren’t you willing to try too? To see for yourself, what life can offer you?” you graze his hand with your pinkie finger.

He opens his mouth to close it again.

“We can start as simple friends, and see where it leads us. Maybe nowhere, maybe to something great....”

“I do not like uncertainty,” he counters.

“It is the spice of life.” You smile comfortingly.“I can accompany you through it.”

He hesitantly takes your hand and you squeeze it. His skin is warm and soft.

“It will be your first step towards a healed self.” 

And you oh so gently came to press your lips on his cheek. 

He doesn’t reject you.

“Well!” You exclaim “We still have to escape those raptors of journalists.”

“You have a plan?” He asks.

“Trust me, I became a master at escaping them. Follow me!”

And you burst out of the closet together, holding his hand firmly, ready to take up any challenges.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics

[angie-long-legs]

TW: Drugs, relapse, trauma/flashbacks, emotional abuse (technically it's happening in his head - think that scene in ep 2 when he's going through the voice notes) This is a part 2 to this drabble but can be read as a standalone piece.

Fuck it.

Angel didn't care anymore. He was done. He tried, and he felt so fucking stupid for it, for thinking that this might actually work. He was an idiot for entertaining the notion that, all along, all he needed was to talk about it, that Charlie's moronic, touchy-feely bullshit was anything but that - bullshit. Nothing was working. Nothing was worth it.

Two weeks. That's how long he had been clean. And, fuck, if it hadn't been miserable. Reality crystallised with a brand new clarity, time became cohesive and linear, familiar emotions felt guttural and raw and revolting. The worst of the physical symptoms had been contained to the initial withdrawal, which had been a hazy Hell within Hell of shaking and sweating, screaming and sobbing, throwing up and passing out and begging for something, anything, to make it stop. All that remained now that Angel had seen the other side was the trembling, an ever-present reminder that his body wouldn't so quickly forget what it had been through. Spoiled rotten on a century of chemicals, it shivered - a gentle, persistent nudge to be fed.

But the tremor was merely background noise. The thoughts and feelings that hijacked Angel's newly lucid brain were less easily ignored. Without the emotional anaesthetic provided by the drugs, there was nothing to dull his tender wounds, nothing to stand between the spider and the reality he refused to look in the eye. The past stained the present, vibrant and intrusive - old blood that wouldn't dry. There was no euphoria amid the sickness, no hope of relief from the memories that bombarded Angel with unrelenting cruelty.

Oh, it infected everything. Sobriety truly emphasised that there was not a single part of Angel's life that the cracks did not extend to. The smell of his perfume transported him from the hotel to his dressing room, the clouds that formed around smoking sinners had him grabbing at his wrists and his throat in search of the chains he felt manifest around them. He stripped the silk sheets from his bed and shoved them in his closet, collapsing onto the bare mattress in exhaustion, but it still felt soft and smooth beneath his touch.

He hated who he was like this. He hated feeling weak and on edge, feeling helpless. There was no escaping it. He was stuck fast and fading as the world around him rolled forward. No hope of receding, no signs of softening. Time marched on, but the dust would never settle.

Angel was on his feet before he had time to register what he was doing, autopilot driving him to the loose floorboard under which he had stashed the last of his supply. Inside, he felt placid - indifferent. He had done this a million times. It wasn't like anyone expected him to stay clean, right? It was understandable, wasn't it? He would be forgiven.

Wouldn't he?

It was fine. One hit, that's all he needed. One little bump. Just to make the thoughts go away.

Carefully, Angel lifted the floorboard and extracted the stash. He watched himself tip out a line of powder along the back of his hand, his trembling causing the substance to spill. He felt cynical of himself, almost laughing. He's doing it again. 'Course he is. Knew he couldn't hack it. Fucking pathetic.

The disconnected voice that mocked him in his mind warped and shifted, adopting the familiar Latin lilt that dripped with venom. Stupid junkie. Dumb, worthless addict. Did you really think you were better than this, amorcito? Oh, Angel, that's so funny. It's adorable. You really thought being sober was something you wanted? To impress your little friends, make them think you were someone you're not? I know you, baby. You're not better than this. You're nothing more than a drugged-up whore. That's all you are, and you love it. Why are you fighting it, angelito? You know you can't fight it. This is who you are.

Angel's teeth gritted, swallowing the angry, hateful lump in his throat. He couldn't fight it. This was who he was. He couldn't do this sober.

The dust wouldn't settle. The blood wouldn't dry.

The wounds wouldn't heal.

Without another thought, Angel brought his hand to his face and inhaled.

[chil-aglia]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 |ROTTMNT| (Leo X Male OC)

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐳𝐞

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

It was dark out in the city of New York, but that didn’t stop the turtles from having their own fun. It was a suggestion from Raph that they head topside tonight and maybe try out their mystic weapons. Adriaen wanted to quickly deny the suggestion, but he couldn’t, he did want to see what the others could do with their weapons.

And so, here they all were on one of the many rooftops in New York, Mikey swinging his kusari-fundō as fire blazes in the air.

“Oh, yeah, check this out! Power fun jitsu!” 

“Not bad, not bad. But check out these puppies!”

Raph punches his tonfās together, making a red wave of energy around his forearms, Mikey looks on in awe and even Adriaen was a bit impressed.

“If you guys wanna see real skills, look right here. I'm gonna make a portal to New Jersey.” Leo suddenly jumps in, taking their attention before swinging his mystical ōdachi, but nothing happens.

“Come on, power portal jitsu!” He was frustrated, groaning and slicing his sword around. Adriaen crossed his arms and watched on with a deadpan look. It seems that Leo was the only one who couldn’t quite control his mystic weapon.

Leo once more, tries to make a portal but only a tiny hand-sized one opens, which caused Raph to laugh at it.

“That's not going to get you across the street, let alone to New Jersey!”

“Okay but...” Leo scoffs before he sticks his hand in and another portal opens behind him, using it to scratch his own back.

“See. It's practical, which makes it better.”

”For scratching your back?” Adriaen blinks, before shaking his head. Mikey jumps up onto Adriaen’s shoulders, almost knocking him down but he gained his balance.

”Show us what you can do Adri!”

”Nothing special really.”

Leo glanced at him and used the portal to suddenly rub under Adriaen’s chin, making the latter almost fling his entire body back, it startled him and now he just felt weird that Leo was rubbing under his chin like an animal.

”Come on now, don’t be so modest.” Leo encourages, taking his hand away with a smirk plastered on his face. Mikey jumps off Adriaen to stand beside his brothers as Adriaen sighs and took his kama’s out.

“Fine.”

He walks over to the edge of the rooftop, feeling that familiar connection between him and his mystic weapons as he breathes in and threw them into the air, watching them fly off.

He used his hands to point in the direction of where he wanted them to move and they listened, moving left and right, up and down, he even did a 360 circle around them, when the weapons were coming back to him, one of the kama blades sliced a TV antenna off with ease, like it was butter.

Adriaen caught his kama’s and looks at the others who clap at the mini performance.

”Whoa! Those are sharp blades.” Raph muses, glancing at the broken antenna before staring at the kama’s. Mikey notices Donnie standing off from the group, Donnie looked to be analysing a purple crystal since he had his goggles over his eyes.

“Hey, Donnie, what are you doing, bud?”

“Well, while you guys took flashier items from Draxum, I, on per brand, took a more cerebral one. See, this crystal, combined with the elements...”

Leo cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Get to the pooooint.” He whined before retreating back to his position. Donnie scoffs and inserts the crystal back in his goggles and puts his goggles back on.

“Now I can see all of the mystic energy hidden around New York, you're welcome and thank you.”

Donnie has a look around, seeing if he could spot any mystical energy. “Whoa, that's awesome! What about that laundry mat?” Raph gawker before pointing over at the said laundry mat.

“It looks…like a laundry mat. But what do we have over here?”

Donnie grins and focuses on a little old lady pushing a shopping cart. He switches to the mystic filter and instead sees a fiery horned humanoid with roughly the same proportions as the little old lady.

“Whoa...underneath that old lady's skin is some sort of fire mutant thing.”

Adriaen raised his non-existent brows and leans over the edge slightly to get a better look; he saw the lady that Donatello mentioned but he didn’t see anything wrong with her. That was until this lady looks around surreptitiously and enters an alley. Then she makes a gesture at a brick wall covered in graffiti which activates a portal, and it appears on the wall, quickly stepping into the portal, leaving the cart behind and the portal closes again.

“She just disappeared into that wall!” Mikey exclaims the obvious, “I believe she went into some sort of cool mystic pizza place.” Donnie noted, making Adriaen blink owlishly at him. “What? How did both gather that’s where she went?” He tilted his head and shrugs his shoulders, silently telling him, ‘don’t worry about it’.

“Pizza! Guys, my blood suggie's getting low. I need to eat bad!” Mikey complains, rubbing his stomach with a pout. Feeling hungry themselves, the turtles jump down from the rooftop and stand in front of the brick wall in the alley. 

Leo jumps to the front of the group, “Step aside. Let's put the handsomely face first.” He grins, dramatically slicking back his non-existent hair. ”I thought you said Adriaen had the most handsome face?” Mikey innocently spoke up, shocking Adriaen who looked between the two brothers.

”I’m sorry what?”

Leo shakes his head and quickly clears his throat, “No, I said I have the most handsome face. Adriaen has the prettiest one.” He smirks, before turning to the black masked turtle who was still standing in bewilderment.

”Prettiest…?”

”Well, yeah. I’m not gonna call my brothers pretty or handsome. That’s weird. Plus, I think we can all agree that you do have a pretty face.” Leo tried to explain, coming off as cool and collected as one can be.

Nailed it.

Adriaen didn’t quite understand but he just shakes his head and decides to drop the topic. “Just…get on with it.” He exhales but then Raph seemed a little nervous.

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why? The one who’s gonna get us inside is me!”

Leo turns to the wall and makes the secret gesture with his hand, but the skeleton graffiti blows a raspberry at him.

“Nice try, handsome boy.” Raph teases, pushing him aside and makes the same gesture, instantly the portal opens for him.

“Awesome!”

Raph, Mikey, Adriaen and Donnie leap in.

“Don't leave me!” Leo shouted but none glanced over at him, instead they were all gasping and looking around in awe, finding themselves in an amazing mystic pizzeria. “Alright, alright. Everybody be cool. This is our first time in a classy restaurant, uh…establishment.” Raph noted out loud but was interrupted by Leo who was groaning. “Hey, guys, this wall is definitely broken.” He called out, the others turning around to see Leo was stuck in the wall, only his top half made it through. 

Adriaen walks over and grabbed Leo by his arms, pulling him through, it was difficult, but he managed, and Leo stumbled out and onto Adriaen. The two falling down on the floor.

”Ugh…”

”Ow…”

Adriaen looks up, finding Leo laying on top of him, “Leo, you're crushing me.” He grunts, moving to sit up, Leo automatically sliding off him. “Whoops, my bad.” Leo chuckled a little awkwardly, standing up and helping Adriaen up to his own feet.

Once that situation was taken care of, they all gather together and look around, unsure of what to do.

“A table! What do we do?” Raph announces, noticing a free table for them. “Okay, be cool. I think we just sit at it and ask for stuff.” Donnie slowly says, a bit unsure himself before he and the others make their way over.

“Like regular people?” Mikey inquired which earned a delighted chuckle from Donnie himself. 

“I think here, we are regular.”

Huh…say isn’t this the pizza place that Leo wanted to bring everyone here before when we went to the hidden city? 

Adriaen followed Raph, Mikey and Donnie, unaware that Leo had wandered off somewhere. 

No, I don’t think it was. This place doesn’t look like it’s actually in the hidden city.

When they sat down, Adriaen notices a familiar skeleton guy. What was his name again? Ah, he couldn’t remember since they only met once and that was during the time Donnie’s tank got stolen by Splinter.

Ah, I guess this is the pizza restaurant that we visited once back then. We all seemed to have forgotten about this hidden gem. 

They had soon ordered some pizza; it looked pretty good, and Mikey was no doubt going to chow down to fix his sugar levels. When their pizza came over, smelling tasty that it even had Adriaen’s stomach rumbling, Mikey picks up a slice and smiles.

“Sweet Salvation.”

Before Mikey could even take a bite, Leo suddenly appeared and swats the pizza out of Mikey’s hand, which lands on a lizard mutant, but the mutant quickly eats it up.

“Hey! My salvation!” Mikey cried out in horror, Adriaen was baffled by Leo’s actions and turns to him. “Uh, wanna explain why you did that?” He interrogated, to which Leo stands up straight with proudness.

“What are you all doing? Don't eat that run of the mill garbage when you can have the world's greatest pizza!” 

He led the group over to a different room, it was darker compared to the main entrance, hallway was smaller too, but Adriaen did notice the pictures on the walls of different mutants. Leo gestures at a golden archway to who knows where, Donnie rolling his eyes and crossing his arms together.

“Oh, please. Every place in New York claims to have the world's greatest pizza.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but this pizza is behind a velvet rope. Velvet rope, guys! Velvet rope! You know that means quality!” Leo quips in, touching the velvet rope that stood there in front of the golden archway. Adriaen didn’t really seem to be convinced and looked around the place again, he paused on a picture and narrowed his eyes before widening them in surprise.

”Isn’t this…Ronin?”

He called out, quickly having everyone gather around him to stare at the picture. He wasn’t wrong, it was indeed Ronin, holding a slice of pizza as he winks into the camera, his sword resting over his shoulder, he sat on top of a Minotaur.

”Okay, now we have to go in.” Leo spoke up first with determination, the boys weren’t sure why Leo so badly wanted to try this suspicious pizza that was apparently behind the rope, but no one questioned it and decided to humor him.

The five make their way over and enter, they step through a portal, when they all made it to the other side the portal closes behind them. From a distance there was a maze shaped like a pizza. Raph, Adriaen, Donnie and Mikey look confused while Leo looks excited.

“Leo, what is this place? I thought we were gettin’ pizza.” Raph narrowed his eyes in suspicion of this place, “It's nothing. We just got to solve an easy straight forward maze first.” Leo assured making the others groan and become annoyed.

“Wait, what? I didn't sign up for a pre-meal maze.”

Adriaen nods in agreement with Raphael, “I agree. Let’s just get pizza from the table we were at earlier.” He suggested, Mikey perking up and complaining briefly.

“Yeah. This looks really hard. My tummy just wants easy food!”

“Don't worry, just follow me. Onward, boys!” Leo waved off their comments and marched forward, the others grumbled and followed after the slider.

-----

They enter the maze where Leo was giving directions, turning corners and such.

“Left here, just follow my lead. Left again.”

Leo leads the group to dead end after dead end, at one point Leo and Raph start to argue about what directions to take.

"No!”

"Yes!”

Adriaen ignored them and strolled up to Mikey who was leaning against the wall, pouting in hunger. "Hang in there Mikey." Adriaen gave him a brief smile, patting the youngest of the turtles on the head. Once again, they got lost, Leo over-confidently dragging them onwards but Raph had enough and snapped.

“No, we're lost!”

“Guys, trust me. It's this way.”

Adriaen narrowed his eyes, "You said that before and we just end up in dead ends." He states, but before anyone else could pitch in and say something, a strange gurgling noise echoed out to them.

Adriaen, Raph, Donnie and Leo turn to look at Mikey who was just as confused.

"That's not my tum-tum. Nu-uh.”

Leo perks up and beams in delight. “No, no, no, no, that sounds of baking! We must be close.” He excitedly declares, following the noise, as did the others. They walk around the corner and see a quartet of anthropomorphic cooking tools: a furnace, rolling pin, pizza cutter, and a cheese grater. Together, they seem to be making a pizza.

"Wow, look at this! They make the pizza right in front of you! Can we get four extra-larges? One meat lover and one definitely not hawaiian.”

Leo looks back at the others who stare in bewilderment at the utensils.

“Okay how does everybody feel olives?” Leo asks but the four anthropomorphic tools pause their work and growl at them.

“Looks like they aren't a fan of olives.” Adriaen mumbles, Leo tilts his head and looks back.

“Huh?”

The tools charge the turtles, making them turn, run and defend themselves.

"Okay, okay, we don't need olives!”

Leo blocks the Pizza Cutter with his mystical ōdachi, Adriaen running in and slashing his blades at the cutter to help out Leo. Donnie got punched by the Cheese Grater, and Mikey gets hit by the rolling pin as Raph punches the Grater with his tonfā. He ducks as the Grater launches at him and Raph’s red bandana tails get shredded.

“Oh, come on! Nice try, Shred head! Time for my mystic punch jitsu.”

Raphael grins and goes to change up his mystic tonfā to deal a magical blow but out of nowhere Leo leaves Adriaen to defend himself, "Leo!" Adriaen hissed in annoyance, flinching when the pizza cutter charged at him, he holds up his kama's and blocks.

Leo leaps sideways in front of Raph to stop him from using mystical powers.

“No mystic powers!”

“No mystic powers?"

Raph was baffled by his younger brother before getting pinned down by the grater, in which Leo cuts the Grater in half with his ōdachi.“Help! Help, help, help!” Donnie's frantic cries was heard as the oven was trying to force Donnie into its fiery maw to cook Donnie alive.

Leo and Raph rescue Donnie and vanquish the oven, Raphael turns and glared at Leonardo.

“What's up with this maze, Leo? I almost got my cheeks grated.”

Leo spies the center of the maze, before casually smiling, "Relax, we solved it! The pizza is just over—" He went to say but the walls of the maze start to close around them, blocking their route.

“Oh no, it's closing!”

Adriaen jumps out of the way from the pizza cutter, where the tool was thankfully separated when the walls move in. Leo punches the wall blocking their easy route in frustration. “Why can't I use my power punch to take down this wall?” Raph questions in puzzlement, Leo sheepishly smiles, rubbing the back of his head.

“Funny story. But I may have left one thing out. The only rule in the Maze of Death is no mystic powers.”

Adriaen flinched and turned to Leo wide eyed at what he just heard.

"Come again? Maze of what now?”

"Okay, two things.”

Spikes pop out and flame throwers activate from the walls of the maze around them, the said walls begin to slowly advance towards them, if they’re not impaled or burnt to a crisp, they will surely be crushed.

Mikey and Donnie face back-to-back at the encroaching walls.

“Uh, guys?”

“Not now, Donnie. What's going on here, Leo?” Raph refocuses his attention to Leo, annoyed with him. Adriaen standing beside him, just as annoyed. Donnie and Mikey duck a jet of flame but the top of Mikey’s head catches on fire. He doesn’t notice at first while Donnie covers his mouth and stares in shock. Then Mikey feels it and screams, running around in a panic.

I should probably help them…

He glanced over and sees Donnie switching his tech-bō into a fire extinguisher mode and extinguishes Mikey’s head with some sort of foam.

Guess not.

"Nothing, we're just here to get the pizza…and to get my photo on the wall of champions.” Leo mumbled the last part in hopes Raph and Adriaen didn't hear him, but of course they did.

"What?!"

“Aha! I knew we weren't here for pizza! You wanted to come here so you could get your picture on the wall. To prove you're the best at something.”

Adriaen recalled the pictures they saw, Ronin's picture in particular. Leo and Raph continue to argue at each other.

“That's what I just said.”

“Don't try to deny it, Leo. I got you!”

“I'm not trying to deny it.”

Adriaen quips in and rubs his temples, "Wait a second. Is this because you saw Ronin's picture?" He inquired, Leo wincing and shaking his head with a scoff.

"No way! Why would I care if he was on the wall of champions? You think just because of that, I wanted to best him at something, show him he's not special because of a picture? Thats, just…uh, insane."

Leo was terrible at lying to Adriaen, it was very obvious that was his goal. "Unbelievable." A mutter from Adriaen before Mikey yells out to them in a panic.

“We're gonna get skewered!”

The walls get even nearer as the turtles huddle up.

“We're trapped, how are we gonna get out of here?!” Leo gulps, causing the others to glare and shout angrily.

“Make a portal!”

“I can't, it's against the rules. I'll never get my picture on the wall of champions.” Leo tried to reason, but none cared for his goal.

"Who cares about some picture when we're gonna be crushed!” Raph logically shouts, Leo sighs and whines.

“Fine."

Leo tries to make a portal with his ōdachi but nothing materializes, he clicks his tongue before his shoulders dropped. “I can't do it. I got no mystic mojo. I'm useless!” He morosely exclaims, Raph steps closer to Leo and gently puts a hand on his brother's shoulder.

“Hey, that's not true, brother. You just got to believe in yourself." He kindly assured, but he wasn't done. "And know this: If I die in this maze, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.” He darkly threatens, “Well, in theory, you'd both be ghosts, so I'm not sure how you would—" Donnie began as Adriaen nudged his side, "Donnie you're not helping." He deadpans, turning to Leo who gave everyone puppy dog eyes.

“You know it'd really help me if you guys said that I was your champion."

All four of the turtles yell together in unison.

“Just open it!”

With a groan, Leo turns around to make another attempt as the walls close in, he whispers to himself and braces, managing to make an escape portal.

“I did it! I really am the best at—"

Raphael wasted no time, grabbing everyone with his big arms and launches the group into the portal at once. He manages to squeeze them all through before the spikes impale them.

From above, the turtles pop out of Leo’s exit portal screaming and land in a pile on the ground. Adriaen groans, being squashed in between Mikey and Donnie. Leo however was the first to jump up, delighted, as he gestures to the giant Minotaur statue holding a large pizza box on an open palm.

“We're at the center of the maze!”

The others untangle themselves from the pile and stare up at the statue. Adriaen crossed his arms, not all that impressed.

Leo climbs up the statue and grabs the pizza box, holding it up triumphantly.

"We got the pizza! I am the champion!”

While Adriaen wasn't feeling all that victorious, Raph, Mikey and Donnie however cheer and celebrate the victory. The statue's giant head slowly turns to face Leo standing on its arm with a grinding sound. Adriaen was first to notice, "Uh, Leo…" He called out for his attention, until a new voice of an angry woman echoed into their ears.

“Cheaters! Who dares to try and eat my pizza without following the strict customer agreement?”

The turtles stop celebrating, Donnie stepping back slightly, "That cannot be good.” He states as green vines appear from nowhere and lunge at them, quickly they scatter.

“You can't escape me! I am the assistant manager of this maze, and the maze does what I want, pending corporate approval.”

Mikey gets tossed into the air by a moving pillar and gets wrapped up in vines. Donnie runs but hits a dead end and the vines catch him, too.

“No, no!”

“Uh oh.”

Leo’s leg is grabbed by the vines, and he’s hurled into the air, followed by Raph. Adriaen dodged the incoming vines, using his kama's to slice and deflect, but he left his back open, a vine sneakily grabbing his waist and lifting him in the air, he drops his weapons on the floor as he grunts and struggles to free himself.

Captured and bound, the turtles are brought forward to the statue and a real Minotaur appears on top of the statue, she looked furious.

“You cut up my maze! You cheated! Now you will all pay!”

A magical hand of fire bursts into the air above the maze, coming down to smite the group.

“Wait!" Leo shouts, the fire going out as Leo uses this chance to explain himself.

“I'm the one who cheated. I created the portal to save everyone. Punish me, their champion.”

While it was certainly heartfelt, the four others nod in agreement, all shouting the same thing.

“Yeah! Punish him!"

The minotaur scoffs with narrowed eyes, "You all tried to cheat out my world's greatest za!" She humps, powering up to happily smite them. But thankfully Leo was quick to think of something. “How can you call it ‘world's greatest’? How do you know we haven't had better?” He taunted lightly; the others were confused but Adriean swiftly knew what Leo was trying to do.

The Minotaur’s fire goes out and she looks annoyed.

“What do you mean, better? You're not talking about Famous Minotaur Pizza on 19, are you?”

Adriaen clears his throat, playing along to help out Leo. "Oh, that place is pretty good. Probably the only pizza place I go to on the daily." He lies, Leo smirking in response and adding his own comment.

“Ohhhhh, man. You talking about FMP on 19th? I love that place!”

The vines crush Leo a little, making him squeal in pain, but then the vines put all the turtles down and release them.

"That garbage that's called pizza? Wait until you try mine!”

The Minotaur lady opens up the large pizza box to offer a sample, the turtles stare in hunger, when the vines shove a piece of pizza each into each turtle's mouth, who all savor it.

Adriaen choked a little bit when the food was shoved into his mouth, but he recovered and chews on the pizza.

Damn…this is actually pretty good.

"This pizza good!" Mikey sighs in delight, the Minotaur lady smirks triumphantly.

"Best you ever had?”

“Really appreciate you letting us go, it was the right thing to do.” Donnie looks up at her, but the moment was ruined when Leo smugly points to himself.

“Who's your champion, guys?”

Adriaen, Raph, Donnie and Mikey all glower at the red eared slider.

"They'll come around. First, where do we go to get our picture taken for the Wall of Champions? Cause I wanna make sure they capture my good side.” Leo perks up in excitement at the lady Minotaur who grins mischievously and closes the pizza box.

“Wrong wall.”

One of the vines punches square Leo in the face, knocking him out. The others gather around him before smirking. After being released, the turtles head home, Adriaen carrying the unconscious Leo on his back as he maneuvered his way across the roofs and to the sewers.

He glanced over at Leo's face that was resting on his shoulder, he softly chuckled and smiled, whispering under his breath, so no one could hear him.

"Your my champion, Leo."

-----

Back at the pizza restaurant, under a sign on the wall that says ‘Cheaters,’ a photo of the turtles enjoying their ill-gotten pizza is pinned to the wall, with Leo passed out on the ground. The group are the only ones in the ‘Cheaters’ section.

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

A/N: I APOLOGISE FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT WERE MADE, I TYPE REALLY FAST AND OFTEN DON'T SEE THEM UNTIL I ACTUALLY PUBLISH THE CHAPTER.  

The end of it was cute y’all! Too bad Leo was passed out—

First Chapter here

Next Chapter here

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Fic request:

Camila takes kid Philip to the park. Philip spends most of the time making flower charms and crowns for everyone. When he's finished, he goes back to Camila to crown her queen of all mom's.

The Queen Of All Moms

(Fic is au based).

Camila's smile complimented the sunny weather outside as she prepared lunch for the kids on a picnic blanket in the park under the shade of a tree with blooming cherry blossoms.

Since spring had finally sprung and the temperature outside was just right, she figured today would be the perfect day for a picnic with her kids.

After a frigid winter, all of them, including herself, needed some balmy, fresh air to breathe and bask in.

Using her plastic knife to spread some peanut butter evenly across the bread slice for the third PJ and J sandwich she was making, Camila heard a familiar voice call out to her in the gentle breeze.

"Mom!" The voice belonged to none other than her biological daughter.

Speaking of Luz, she, her friends, and Philip were on a pink and yellow plaid mat under a large cherry blossom tree that was just across from Camila's tree.

Piles of some of Willow's best flowers, which Hunter and Philip helped her pick today, laid flat on the group's mat.

As Luz and her friends joyfully weave flower crowns and create flower charms for each other, Philip, sitting criss-crossed with his hands resting on his lap, actively watches them.

The young boy's cheeks are rosy as his blue eyes sparkle under the dappled light cast by the towering flower tree as he delights in their floral artistry with a blossoming smile.

Camila, turning her head to face her daughter, smiled at her. "Yes, Luz?" she asked.

Luz placed her finished flower crown on Amity's head as her amazing girlfriend sat still under her. "You need help with lunch?"

Camila gives Luz a gentle head shake, putting two pieces of bread together, forming a sandwich.

"Oh, don't worry, mija, I'm fine," she told her, setting the sandwich down on a plate as she reached her hand into the picnic basket beside her and pulled out a reusable snack bag filled with freshly cut apple slices.

Camila then reached inside the basket a second time and pulled out a pair of poly gloves.

She applied them on her hands and got to work on plating the slices.

"In fact, lunch is almost ready," she said cheerfully, carefully placing five wedges on a plate and lining them up.

After Luz places a light forehead kiss on Amity's head, her face and cheeks light up from the affection.

Her facial appearance is reminiscent of a spring rose.

Luz then walks over to Philip, crouching down to his level.

"Alright, little dude," she began in a kind and caring voice, placing a hand atop the brunette's hair and rubbing it, fingers running over his scalp soothingly.

This caused the little boy to giggle.

He liked getting his scalp massaged by Luz.

"Are you ready for us to help you make a flower charm and crown of your own?" she gently asked him, turning to her friends and gesturing for them to come over.

When they do, they all gather around Philip with smiles on their faces.

Philip was so pleased to see so many people who cared about him surrounding him as he smiled and nodded. "I am!"

Luz formed a grin at that response, enjoying his enthusiasm.

"Alright, let's get started then," she said as she and her friends pulled out the supplies and materials they needed for the charm and crown.

...

"I hereby crown you the queen of all moms!"

Philip proudly proclaimed in a regal tone as he placed the flower crown that the Hexsquad had helped him craft on top of Camila's delicate head while wearing his recently made flower charm bracelet.

"For me?" Camila asked with a gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.

As her lips trembled, her eyes began to water.

The Hexsquad all smiled fondly at Camila's reaction to her brand new crown while eating their lunch on her blanket.

"Mm-hm!" he replied with a hum before continuing.

"You're the bestest mommy ever, Ms. Camila!"

Philip gave Camila a hug. "Thank you so much for taking care of me."

"Oh, mijo...," Camila whispered softly with a sweet smile, returning his hug.

"You're welcome, and thank you for the very thoughtful gift. Te amo mucho."

Philip didn't understand the last words Camila had said, but he's glad she said them.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Tentatively trying my hand? at? Magnus Protocol characters? :o. Gwen/Alice but with very strong hints of Alice/Sam.

It irks Alice that she's almost relieved to see that, despite her brand new shiny promotion, Gwen is still at her desk past her work time, same familiar little frown between her brows, mouth curled into a pout that really shouldn't be that cute. Alice's been trying very hard to keep things light and carefree when it comes to Gwendolyn Bouchard, because she, contrary to some people she knows, has, you know, a bottomless reserve of self-preservation in her. She doesn't want to care about Gwen, because if she starts to, she's only going to get more problems and headaches and not that much more sex out of it. It's just not a good deal.

So she doesn't care. Except with Sam off with Celia in the early hours of the morning again, and Colin's out, and no news of Luke, well the sight of good old boring, stand-offish, annoying Gwen is just -

"Hey, Gwen," she calls out. Then, when Gwen predictably doesn't raise her head: "Gween; Miss Gwendolyn Bouchard, ma'am -"

"Well, I don't hate that," Gwen cuts her off, pensive, which makes Alice snorts. 'Course she doesn't. "What do you want?"

"Wanna fuck real quick?" she asks.

"No," Gwen replies then goes back to her computer and Alice's teeth ache. God she dislikes her; maybe she dislikes herself a little bit too, for asking, knowing what Gwen was going to say - whenever this happens, it happens on Gwen's terms, 'cause Gwen's got some pent-up energy she wants to get rid of, or because Gwen's got pissed off by Lena again and wants to take it out on someone. And it's fine, Alice can deal with that, they are good at meaningless, quick, angry sex, but for once, just for once, today, she wishes Gwen would learn a little thing that's call reciprocating -

Alice doesn't realize she hasn't moved 'til Gwen looks back up again, eyes narrowed. "Is this about Celia and Sam?" she asks.

"What about the little lovebirds?" Alice retorts back, all too aware of the hint of bitterness stuck at the edge of her throat.

Gwen nods like she hears it too. "If you're not over him, you should work to get him back," she tells Alice, like she knows a single thing about Alice and Sam, about what they lived through, about who they once were to each other, about -- anything at all. God, screw her, screw her -- "Fucking me is not going to accomplish much." Then, her frown deepens. "Unless you want he--"

"God, shut up, you self-righteous asshole," Alice spits then swallows back her anger as fast she can. It's fine, it's fine, it's all good, it's all chill. She's fine. She's good. "I'm just horny and bored. That's literally it."

"...Right," says Gwen, after a beat. She leans her head on the side, lips pursed, looking like Alice is the ban of her existence, and then goes, abrupt as ever: "I'll take a break in ten. Be there or not. I'm not letting you call me another name, I do have some pride."

[randomvarious]

Snap! - "The Power" 1990 Eurodance / Eurohouse / House / Hip Hop / Hip-House

OK, folks, strap in, because we're about to dive *deep* into a *very* convoluted history behind this legendary Eurodance-hip-house classic that most people, I'm willing to bet, are actually completely unaware of. German dance group Snap!'s momentous debut single, "The Power," may have set the world aflame in 1990, but the version that you're probably most familiar with isn't actually the initial iteration of this spacious jam 😯.

The first ever version of "The Power" was released in 1989 in Europe, on Logic Records, the Frankfurt-based label that was founded and owned by Snap!'s own two producers, Michael Münzing and Luca Anzilotti. And the biggest difference between this rendition and the one that you've likely come to know and hopefully love over the past three-plus decades is that every single lyric on the original was actually sampled, including the rapping.

Those lines happen to come courtesy of an a cappella version of rapper Chill Rob G's song, "Let the Words Flow," which appeared on the B-side of his 1989 12-inch, The Court Is Now In Session. And the bits of addled sax that were used in "The Power" were also lifted from the full version of that song too, which appears on that same 12-inch, as well as Chill Rob G's overlooked, classic-in-hindsight 1989 LP, Ride the Rhythm. But Snap! never asked permission from either Rob himself or his label, Wild Pitch Records, to use any of his music.

But Wild Pitch doesn't actually seem to have really minded the unauthorized use of their songs. Owner Stu Fine even wanted to release "The Power" Stateside, and seeing how successfully it had managed to perform in both Germany and the UK, Chill Rob G thought it'd be beneficial to his own career too. So, on March 5, 1990, Wild Pitch released "The Power," which seems to have been the same exact version as the previous one, but rather than being credited to Snap!, the artist was listed as Power Jam featuring Chill Rob G instead; and somewhat inexplicably, although hip hop legend Mark the 45 King had produced every song on Ride the Rhythm, the production credit for this release of "The Power" was given to him too 🤷‍♂️.

But a much bigger label than Wild Pitch, Arista Records, also wanted in on some of this action as well. And for legal reasons that I'm not really able to fully comprehend, they were barred from releasing the same exact song on their own label in the US, so they decided to just have it re-recorded instead. And this is where the version of "The Power" that you're most familiar with comes from. The sampled Chill Rob G verses were replaced with the intimidatingly deep, clogged-sinus bellows of frontman-rapper Turbo B, and other brand new additional vocal wrinkles, like the "he will break my heart, he will break my heart of hearts" portions, which were inspired by Chaka Khan's 1978 song, "Some Love," were supplied by singer Penny Ford. But not all of Chill Rob G's lines were erased from this new version either; the famous refrain of "it's gettin' kinda hectic" managed to stay, even though it would be mouthed by Turbo B in the music video.

However, the funniest part of all of this is that Turbo B, who wasn't even in Snap! when they first released "The Power" in 1989, still warns everyone in one of his verses that they better not try to steal *his* words—which is exactly what Snap! did to Chill Rob G—or there will be some serious hell to pay! 😂

Copy-written lyrics, so they can't be stolen If they are, "Snap!", don't need the police To try to save them, your voice will cease So peace, stay off my back Or I will attack, and you don't want that

So, while Wild Pitch and Chill Rob G tried to capitalize on "The Power" with their own US release of it, just a few weeks later, Arista would drop their own re-recorded version of it in the States too, and then that one would fully succeed as the most popular version in the world.

Now, something else that you may have never realized about this song is that, although in the music video Penny Ford appears to be the one who's singing the song's most iconic line, "I've got the power," those are not actually her vocals. From jump, that line was sampled, and it belongs to an a cappella version of Jocelyn Brown's terrific mid-80s post-disco tune, "Love's Gonna Get You," which Snap! also wasn't first authorized to use either. And to go just a little bit off-topic here with another fun fact: another super popular early 90s dance classic, Bizarre Inc's "I'm Gonna Get You," also uses lines from that same song too; "Why waste your time? You know you're gonna be mine" and "I'm gonna get you, baby, I'm gonna get you, yes I am!" originate from that very same track. But rather than sampling the song, Bizarre Inc just had those lines re-sung by soul vocalist Angie Brown instead.

Anyway, to add more to this already pretty tangled web here, Chill Rob G also shot his own video for "The Power" too, which, again, was just the same song that Snap! had originally released in 1989 and then Wild Pitch had released as their own. So, absurdly, you get to see Rob rap the *same exact* small verse two times in a row, because those are some of the only lines that Snap! actually sampled from his own "Let the Words Flow" 😅. And that video also uses a different woman to mouth Jocelyn Brown's "I've got the power" line too!

And in addition to that, all future re-pressings of Rob's Ride the Rhythm *also* included "The Power" as well, starting in 1990. But *that* version was also *different* from every other version that had been released prior too! And *this* version replaced the Jocelyn Brown sample with vocals by someone named Kim Davis, who sounded *nothing* like Brown. And other than some additional lyrics from Davis, the song was almost the same as Snap!'s original version, but not quite, so an additional production credit was given to someone named Nephie Centeno too.

Now, to go back to literally any of the versions of this song that have been released, they are all anchored by another classic sample that Snap! also didn't receive permission to use at first: Mantronix's brilliant piece of 1988 hip hop-breaks, "King of the Beats," which gives "The Power" all of its great and constantly ring-jing-jinging bells. But Mantronix actually sampled those bells from something else, a 1975 song by smooth jazz keyboardist Bob James called "Take Me to the Mardi Gras," which is an instrumental cover of a song from 1973 of the same name that was originally released by Paul Simon. And those bells from that Bob James song can be heard in a whole bunch of other tunes too, including Run-D.M.C.'s "Peter Piper," the end of Missy Elliott's "Work It," a fantastic early 2000s Bad Boy Records remix of pop group Dream's "This Is Me," Boys Noize's "Rock the Bells," and so many other songs.

And for someone like me who can really never get enough of those Bob James bells, I really appreciate the person who edited and lengthened this video for "The Power" here, in order to have it match the long, eight-plus-minute extended re-recorded 12" version that stars Turbo B and Penny Ford.

So now you know pretty much everything that there is to know about this late 80s-early 90s dance classic. And when it comes to a lot of these Eurodancy jock jams that I've been posting a lot more of recently, I happen to love them in a bit of an ironic and rose-tinted, nostalgic kind of way; but "The Power" is one that I know, for a fact, I would still love, even if it was just some obscure song that I'd just discovered recently instead. It's much chiller than a lot of the other more maximalist and intense commercial dance fare that was out at around that same time, and I think it's a genuinely brilliant tune. So, hopefully this thorough post has helped you develop a deeper appreciation for it too 😊.

More fun videos here.

[nightguide]

SARCOLOGY: UNWITTED DEALINGS WITH MICROABRASION (HEARTBREAK FINI)

WHAT YOU'RE GOING THROUGH IS A SARCASTIC TAKE ON A CURE WHICH DEVELOPS ON YOUR LIFE IF NOTHING EVER HAPPENED. (YOUR INTUITION IS YOUR BELIEF IN A GOD (WHICH IS ACTUALLY POWERFUL IN TV SHOWS THAT 'MADE YOU', SO YOU'RE NEW ON EARTH (NEW HUMAN) FROM A TRAUMATIC RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE THAT LEFT YOU COLD BLOODED (YOU HAVE BOUNDARIES) LOOKING FOR A HOME (YOU DID NOT COME ALONE (YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND EQUIVALENT) TRANSFORMING LAND TO PEACE (JEHOVAH'S WITNESS ATTACK (thank you for coming to me for help)

PSYCHOPATHOLOGY: ANYTHING CAN BE CAPABLE TO HURT YOU (NEW EXPERIENCES SOLVED WITH REAL LIFE GOALS (WHAT YOU'RE DOING IS WHAT YOUR PAST YOU (7 YEARS AGO) ALWAYS WANTED TO DO (SHE'S HAPPIER THAN NORMAL) WHICH YOUR HAPPINESS NOW (25 YO YOU) IS GOING TO BE EXPERIENCING ANOTHER 7 YEARS (32 YO YOU IS THE STARLET OF HOLLYWOOD YOU'RE WALKING TO BE (CURSE BROKEN: THERAPIST AP)

BARBARISM: YOUR MOTHER KNEW WHAT YOU WERE GOING THROUGH (AS SHE SHOULD, BUT THERE IS NOTHING ABOUT 'KNOWING TOO MUCH' DEAD FATHER'S NARRATIVE AND THE FACT THAT SHE DOES NOT WANT YOU HERE (PEACE ON YOUR OWN IS HOW SHE FAILED BELIEVING YOU (HEARTBREAK STOPS LOOKING AT HER FOR HELP WHEN NOTHING DONE IS YOUR EMOTIONAL FUTURE (WOUNDED PAST, SHE HURT YOU BUT 'HURTING YOU' WAS THE ONLY WAY UP)

PI (NOT ANYTHING AS YOU THINK)

HERBICIDE: YOU'RE GOING TO GET FAMOUS FOR YOUR HANDS IN WORTH (PREDICTION FROM THE 'YELLOW FAMILY')

REGICIDE: YOUR WORTH IS MUCH MORE FUTILE IF NOT, SPEECHLESS BY YOUR MOTHER (REGENT QUEEN BEFORE YOU STEPPED IN: QUEEN BECOMING AND MADE ON HER OWN (WORLDVIEW REINSTATED HER TREASON AGAINST YOU BY SUBMISSION SLIP (HEARTBREAK DORMANT (SHE CANNOT 'TRY' YOU ANYMORE (PINKETT TERMINATED FROM FUTURE APPOINTMENTS)

ACTIVISM: TOON POLITICS ROOT FOR YOU (INVENTOR STATUS SHOWN ON TV)

PHONOCAMPTICS: YOU MIRROR FINELY WELL WITH YOUR PRIVATE LIFE IF NOT, ANYTHING (SEPERATION FROM THE FORMER ALIAS OF HOLLYWOOD TO ACHIEVE OWN SYMBOLIC STATUS IF NOT, ANYTHING (PERSONAL REGRET: NO FAMILY COMES BETWEEN HER AND HER 'WORLD' (WITNESS LOCKED)

PNEUMATICS: SUDDEN DEATH IF NOT DONE PROPERLY

ROBOTICS: SOCIETY GONE ROGUE TO 'FIND INFORMATION' (ONLY YOUR JOB)

PEPTICS: SONG ON REPEAT (FAVOURITE FAMILIAR BECOMES REASON TO ACHIEVE WORLD PEACE (ACTIVE GRUDGES FOR POPULARITY OF GLAMOUR (70'S ROGUE ACHIEVED)

SEMIOTICS: STUDY OF THE (UNIVERSE TITLED (PERSONAL BUSINESS)

SYNECTICS: HEARTBREAK OVER JUDGEMENT DAY NON-EXISTENT (YOU VS. KEANU REEVES)

SEMITICS: VALUE UNDERSTOOD AS A PROFESSOR BIAS (FIND HIM INCLUDED IN YOUR REPORT FOR TREASURED HEALTH (DUE LUCK BY A CARTOON PREROGATIVE KNOWN TO YOU BY HEART)

HELPS TO END BODY TALK (AGONY EMITTING PERSONAL VENTURE: MOTHER KNOWS BEST)

WATCH PROFESSOR LAYTON

WATCH THE ENTIRE SIMPSONS MOVIE (CURE TO HYSTERECTOMY)

20TH CENTURY FOX WANTED FOR THE EMITTING HEARTBREAK:

SEPHORA BEAUTY BAY (PRIMAVERA): ANNOTATE BRAND LABELS FOR DEFINITION OF THE ARTS (NEW ALIEN KNOWING WORLD LOVE (HIGH SCORE IN MOTION)

BODY TALK DnD GROUP TAKES OVER

BODY TALK DnD GROUP:

ROBYN

PROF. LAYTON

ZAINAB S. (ROGUE)

ANSON SEABRA

SCULLY

PI RE-INSTATED: ONE CALLS TO SPARK A WILDFIRE

ZOE LEWIS

COUSIN NARRATIVE SEEN BY INTUITION

COUSIN RECKONED JUDGEMENT DAY ON A BABY

LITTLE BROTHER

[minhosimthings]

Hold me Without Hurting Me

Chapter 8: Crab blossoms and Curt kisses

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, jay comfort, nothing much but it's a bumpy story.

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

SERIES MASTERLIST

"For the last time Jay-" a shrill shout echoed through the house, "-Im fine!" "The fuck you're not." The stout boy holding you up by the waist, as you slumped onto his shoulders, deposited you on the couch. Parties were great. High school parties on Halloween night when you found your boyfriend cheating? Even better.

Jay sighed heavily and checked your forehead. Thank god, he thought, you didn't have a fever.

"Y/N?" Jay cooed, holding a glass of water, always the best way to calm down underage teenagers who drank illegally, "Sweetheart, you've got to drink up. Come on get up now." You felt your head being supported by a gentle hand. A rather familiar one, you thought, as you traced the other hand with your free ones. You felt your lips being pressed gently by the glass as Jay coaxed you into drinking water. "There we go." Jay set the glass down, wiping your mouth with a towel, "Now let's- Y/N?"

Jay took in the sight before him, as you leant closer, staring vividly at his lips. You wondered whether they felt as soft as they looked. And you wanted to kiss them. You wanted to kiss them and never let go. "Y/N wha-"

Jay's sentence was left unfinished as you crashed into him, holding his hair in your hands as you sunk into an epiphany. Was this how the kiss between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth felt in Pride and Prejudice? It probably was.

Jay, although overcome with shock, couldn't bring himself to pull away. This was wrong, oh so wrong. He knew that if he did this, he would leaving the only girl he's ever held inside the crevices of his heart, heartbroken. But something about the kiss, about the way you held him, and about the way his arms automatically made way to your waist, it prevented him from pulling away, instead sinking deeper and deeper.

"Jay-" you whispered against his lips, as you pulled away, suddenly feeling sleep hit you. "Come on sweetheart." Jay spoke in a deep voice, quite unusual to his, "Let's get you to bed."

As Jay tucked you safely under your covers, putting a bucket near the bed incase you needed to throw up, he felt an emotion of guilt overcoming him. Where it came from exactly, he was unsure about. But as he planted a sweet kiss to your forehead, and whispered, "Sleep well my yarrow." Into your ear, he thought to ignore the feeling, knowing it would goad him from doing what he should have done years ago.

"Do we really have to attend the meeting?" You whined, rubbing the champagne stain on your dress as the car moved at a faster pace than usual. Jay sighed, and picked up his phone, running his fingers through his emails. "What are you doing." You leant closer to Jay, trying to annoy him. He had 'accidentally' spilt champagne on your brand new dress and even though it was black and it could easily be washed off, you were mad. You poked his cheek with your finger, in a failed attempt to capture his attention.

"What the fuck." Jay spoke, leaning forward in concentration. "What is it?" You responded, peeking into his phone. "They moved the time of the fucking meeting two hours earlier." "What?" You snatched the phone from him, frantically searching your eyes through the open email. "7 pm? But that's-" "Right now." Jay looked at you with fury in his eyes.

"Fucking assholes." He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, "They come from the valley, and they think they can do anything." You meddled with your fingers, almost clawing the skin off of them as you stared ahead, not being able to get a word out of your mouth. It reminded you of your childhood days, when you'd be late to school and your mind would race through all the excuses in the world.

"Y/N calm down." Jay looked over, a comforting expression on his face, "No one's going to scold you." "Yeah." You scoffed, "of course, you wouldn't know anything about it. Jay Park, all fancy in his suits, not a single rumour about him fucking himself to the top. And when they find out what we are doing, you're not gonna be the one in the fire pit Jay." Jay didn't respond to your quip.

"Oh fuck it." You adjusted the straps of your dress as you stood in front of the wooden door of the meeting hall, "Are they really going to be seeing me in this stupid dress?" You raised an eyebrow at Jay, who was browsing the files Kayla had handed him. She looked much happier than she did in the morning. According to Jungwon, the impromptu date had gone well.

Jay pushed a hand against the door suddenly, the creaking noise slightly startling you. The door opened slowly to reveal a scene of quiet men in suits sitting together, smirks appearing on their face as soon as their eyes fell on you.

"Good evening gentlemen." Jay swiftly moved across to his seat, with you following behind to your seat, next to him, since all the other seats were filled. The universe seemed to have done everything to be against you. "I hope you don't mind the tardiness. We weren't exactly informed properly about the change of time." The way he spoke, you thought, there was something about it, that commanded the entire atmosphere of the room, bringing even the dust under his control.

"It's quite alright." The man you thought was Mr Hwang spoke up, "we weren't discussing anything, since there isn't much to discuss about anymore. We waited for you, incase you and Miss Yang wanted to add anything onto the train." Jay gently shook his head before glancing over at you. You copied his action, looking gently over to Mr Hwang, who smiled and clapped his hands together. "Well then-" he said, unusually cheery, "the meeting is adjou-" "What exactly was the reason for your tardiness, Miss Yang?"

You snapped your head towards the man sitting on the other side of Jay. Choi Minho. Asshole, in your opinion, but apparently a very great leader in Jay's eyes.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Choi?" You curtly responded, even though you had heard his words very clearly. Minho smirked as he swivelled his chair in your direction, with Jay sitting with tightened shoulders in between. "I meant-" He leaned forward, "It's a bit of a coincidence that you and Mr Park managed to show up at the exact same time isn't it?"

"We were on a date, Mr Choi." Jay responded instead of you. You could see his fingers tighten around his rings, "Nothing wrong with a date is there." "Oh no no." Minho let out a cold laugh, which wasn't copied, "No, because I was wondering why Miss Yang put in such a dress. Maybe she was betting on pulling one of us to the bedroom lat-" Minho's words were cut off but a shattering noise, as the vase of tiny crab blossoms, which was very close to Jay's hand, fell to the ground, breaking into a million crystalline pieces. You winced as of the glass shards hit your ankle, blood decorating the seams of the wound.

"You won't lay a single atom of your disgusting being on her, you understand?" Jay had his hands on Minho's collar, as Minho shivered in fear, pressed tighty against his chair. You were slightly taken aback, as you looked around the room, to see the other men equally shocked. Never before had you seen Jay in such a state of anger.

"Jay-" you put your hand on Jay's arm, effectively calming him, and putting his hands far away from Minho, "-we should go." Your whisper rang like a dagger through wood in Jay's ear, as he fixed his suit trim, and put a hand around your waist, almost dragging you out of the meeting hall, leaving everyone stunned and scared.

"Jay what the fuck was that? And why the fuck am I here?" You exploded as you sat down on the red couch. Jay had basically carried you the entire way to his suite, instead of yours and plopped you down on the couch as he rushed around finding something. "Jay Park, answer me!" You whined like a child. The glass shard stuck to your foot hurt now, as the blood seeped all over the carpet.

"Would you let a man work first?" Jay grumbled as he got out of the bathroom with what looked like a first aid kit. He leant down in front of you and gently took your foot in his hand, to which you shuddered af his cold touch. "I'm just gonna pull the glass out alright?" He cooed, searching the injury carefully. You closed your eyes shut tightly and tightened your shoulders, preparing for the rocket impact. "And we're done!" Jay let out as you snapped your eyes open, surprised at feeling no pain. "Oh." You widened your eyes, "it still hurts though, Dr Park." You giggled, calling him 'doctor'. Jay rolled his eyes and dressed your wound gently with cotton.

"Ow Jay." You grumbled as he tightly wrapped gauze around the wound. "If you stop moving, maybe it won't hurt dumbass." Jay packed up his items and shoved them under the couch. "Oh shit I forgot to call Jungwon." You reached for your phone, but Jay was quicker to grab it from the table. "Nuh uh young lady." Jay shook his head as he slipped the phone into his pocket, "I already called your assistant and him and Kayla are gonna be sleeping in your suite tonight. Quite romantic I know." He looked smug as he said that, "You're tired as hell, and not to mention, injured. Plus I already ordered food and you are going to eat it and sleep until the morning and then you can do whatever you want."

You stared at Jay's long speech as he rushed to the door on the ringing of the bell. Did he really care for you?, you thought as he returned with what looked like bags of food. Knowing that there was no fruit to be gained by arguing with Jay, you silently accepted the food, and started eating, sneaking mischievous glances at him every now and then.

"Please tell me we are not sleeping in the same bed." You grumbled as you moved up the staircase to the bedroom. The suite was very similar to yours,with the difference of the color palette. Jay's was red, while yours preferred the colour of the ocean.

"I would rather die than sleep in the same bed as you." Jay stopped infront of a white door, "This is Kayla's room. You'll be sleeping here." You crossed your arms and Jay slid his card into the slit of the door. The door didn't open. One try, then the other, and then another, all the tried went to the ditch as Jay's card didn't succeed in opening the door. "Shit." He cursed, turning to you, "I think Kayla has the card to her door." "Obviously dumbass." You shifted your weight to your uninjured foot, "Why would she give her card to her boss?"

Jay didn't respond to your quip, instead reaching for another door next to the white one. "Wanna sleep in my room?" Jay offered, as the door opened to a magnificent bed with an equally matching wardrobe. Oak, you though as you ran your hands over the material. "Where the fuck will you sleep then?" You questioned Jay, who scoffed. "there's a thing called a couch Y/N. I'll shower in the downstairs bathroom. You can use mine. Oh and-" he threw open the wardrobe door, "just wear one of my shirts." He took a shirt out of the wardrobe and quickly disappeared out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You plopped down on the freshly made bed, realising only now how tired you were. As you slowly fought sleep and made your way over to the shower, you noticed a lingering disappointment in your brain, that Jay didn't talk to you longer.