#where's you buy your intelligence? at the stupid store?

[starlit-mansion]

there's something so poetic about coyote vs acme being the thing that causes wb's 'the producers' ass scheme of shitcanning movies for tax breaks to blow up in their face and cause them to turn to the camera, blink twice, and dissolve into a little pile of ash that their eyes fall down into with a little bounce

[monamipencil]

— jealousy, jealousy | k.mg

“want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 

synopsis; a trip to the convenience store with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn.

pairings; mingyu x fem! reader | genre; slight angst, smut, established relationship | w.c; 800+ | warnings; mentions of food, marking kink, possessiveness, exhibitionism, fingering, overuse of 'baby', slight dry humping, orgasm denial (f. receiving), a mention of punishment. | a/n; yea.. my old blog was deleted and im reposting.. dont mind me.

you’re jealous. quite jealous. 

The taste of iron greets your tongue when you lick your lips. The bruise he had given you. You lift your hand involuntarily to touch the blooms of hickeys that sit on your neck, discreetly covered by your boyfriend’s hoodie. He marked you up in all ways. For everyone to see. to know. That you’re his. But him? 

Your eyes reluctantly dart towards mingyu and the part-timer, who is clearly hitting on him. You can’t help but roll your eyes and scoff. The annoying knot in your stomach tightens when you hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke she just made. You resort to picking on your nails, trying to drown out everything. 

But you know you have to address this someday. And it might be today. Address the fact that your boyfriend will never be just yours. Your heart uncomfortably twists at that. It was indeed true. 

Mingyu is an eye candy. The heartstopper. No matter where you go, the limelight will always be on him. Good looks, personality, intelligence. He’s got the whole pack. It’s as if God took his sweet time sculpting his heart, mind, and body.  

“Hey, baby,” you flinch at the sound of his voice and sigh, placing a hand over your heart. mingyu eyes you in confusion, and with a small smile on his lips, he apologizes for scaring you. Sending a half-hearted nod his way, you bring the food closer to your side. 

It was your idea. To go to the nearby convenience store to get food after an intense love-making session that left you tired and hungry. You didn’t accept his offer to cook, knowing that he was tired too. But frankly, you lost your appetite. You toy with your food, drawing shapes in the sauce. 

With a loud sigh, you stand, muttering to him that you want to buy something. He nods and tries his best to reply with his ramen-filled mouth. You groan as soon as you’re out of his sight. A part of you knows it’s not his fault. And the other part reasons that he should know how it would feel since he, himself is the possessive type. 

You take something random from the aisle after a moment of consideration and turn to return to the table when a hand roughly pulls your hips back. You gasp, hearing mingyu’s hushed voice, “want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 

You bite your lip, swallowing the moan that the lewd thought elicited in you. His fingers dig into the exposed skin of your thigh, and he grinds his clothed crotch against your hip. You let out small gasps and bated breaths as he continues to grind himself harder. Your (his) hoodie is unzipped halfway to expose your neck, which he marks yet again. 

“I’m yours, baby. don’t you know that? hmm? I can prove it.” he whispers, his hands slipping into your panties. His other hand keeps your mouth open, and a moan escapes your lips. The cool wind hitting your skin makes you shiver, and him toying with your clit adds to it. 

“mingyu,” you mewl out his name, your hips grind onto his fingers, chasing friction. 

“God, you’re so wet. And we just fucked a hour ago.” 

He pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt, pushing them in and out at a comfortable pace. mingyu stops his ministrations and curls his fingers against that spot. It forces you to gasp and tug at his hair. He removes his hand from your mouth, and the saliva-coated fingers find your nipple under your shirt. 

Your body hasn’t yet recovered from the previous carnal venture. Every touch has you seeing stars, and you can feel the orgasm ripping through already. But it stops when he removes his hands from your needy core. “Not here. Can’t have my baby walking with wet shorts back home,” he laughs at your needy figure and kisses your strained neck muscles. 

Mingyu holds you against him till you come down from your high. His hands massage your body, and he softly whispers that he’s only yours. It brings a smile to your face, and all ugly feelings are thrown out the window. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispers against your cheeks with a love-sick look in his eyes. You chuckle and whisper the same back to him. Reaching to hold his face, you lean in, but you’re cut off by the part-timer. 

Annoyance runs through your veins, but you’re satisfied to find her shocked state at your intimate position with mingyu. You press a kiss to his lips, eyes still on her. A cocky smile plays on your lips, and your heart feels light when you pull back. Mingyu shakes his head when you shoot him a sickeningly-sweet smile and laughs, playing into your game. 

You pack the food, not wanting to waste the money, and leave the store. But not before you flaunt the love bites gifted by your boyfriend. All exhaustion seems to have left you as you happily skip in the street. He skips along with you, blushing and laughing at the scandalising act you both pulled. You let him do so while he can. And your boyfriend links hands with you, oblivious to the punishment awaiting him. 

a reblog?

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia

[donnerpartyofone]

Does anybody have that post of a Twitter thread where the tech guy explains that your phone isn't listening to you, but ads are generated using aggregated information about the consumer habits of people whose phones are in regular proximity to yours? Like he visits his mom, who regularly buys a certain toothpaste, and now he gets ads for that toothpaste? I'm having a paranoid moment because I'm starting to get ads for things I just bought in person from a store, not online, not things I've Googled, not things I necessarily said out loud even. A facial product I bought on impulse at the pharmacy, a household tool we need for our move. Of course it could all be a coincidence and I'm just going to have to learn to live with the new modern state of permanent suspicion that Someone or Something is scrutinizing everything the individual does, but I'm extremely annoyed. Part of what annoys me is the absolute stupidity of the apparent use of this technology: I bought something, so the relevant need has already been filled, and the algorithm or whatever is treating me like I'm a COLLECTOR of that thing, like I enjoy having a lot of the same exact thing and I will buy i.e. a tape measurer every day, all the time, as long as I'm reminded about it. All it's doing is violating my privacy and letting me know it, in order to advertise things that I specifically do not need to buy and will not shop for in the foreseeable future. So much for science. I have that vexing class tonight where the singularity expert tells us how AI is the same thing as freedom of information and all it does is augment our intelligence so we can become more enlightened and evolved at a faster rate and everything is going to be perfect so long as nobody regulates AI or AI-adjacent technologies, and if you disagree then you're a fascist and a caveman.

[llostwriter]

系统错误 | SVSSS Fanfic

CHAPTER 4

【ǫᴜᴇsᴛ ᴀᴄǫᴜɪʀᴇᴅ: ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ ᴋɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴇʟᴅᴇʀʟʏ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ. ᴜsᴇʀ sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ 'ʏᴇs'. ɪғ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ɪs sᴜᴄᴄᴇssғᴜʟ, ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ sʜᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏɴᴜs ᴏғ 𝟸𝟶𝟶 ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs】

Xuan Ji seeps onto the green tea that was offered by the old woman. The elderly woman guided them to a tiny store and offered to buy them drinks and food in exchange for their assistance. Just two cups of green tea were ordered by Xuan Ji: one for himself and one for Xiyin. She supposed the actual Xuan Ji would also act in such manner. Knowing that the villagers are already impoverished enough, she also doesn't want the elderly woman to spend any more money. She looked down her long sleeves, making sure to pull the golden hairpin further inside to keep it from falling.

"Where was the last time you saw your son?" Xuan Ji inquired in an effort to learn more about it.

"I'm not sure..." Xuan Ji raising an eyebrow as she carefully listened to the elderly woman’s statement. "How are you not sure, about your own son?" she asked.

"He's always a reckless young man, he never listens to me, he goes wherever he want without telling me anything"

Yes, so the man was killed by his own stupidity. That will most likely also be waiting for Xuan Ji in the event that she is unable to alter her destiny. "Don't worry ma'am, I and Jiejie will find your son!" A startling voice surprised Xuan Ji, it was Xiyin.

Isn't it premature to commit to such promise? Her son might have passed away already, for all we know! Don't make any such promises—especially ones you can't keep—because it's difficult to bring someone back to life!

"If that is the case, I will no longer disturb you two young girls. This old woman shall take her leave," the woman got up from her chair and walked out of the restaurant, leaving Xuan Ji and Xiyin alone with their thoughts. "So Xuan jiejie, what are you deciding for us to do?" Xiyin said, gazing at Xuan in anticipation of a response. If nothing else, at least she knows when to take business seriously.

【+𝟸𝟶 ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴜsᴇʀ's 'ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴘʀᴏғᴇssɪᴏɴᴀʟ'】

Xuan was annoyed by the notification that showed up in front of her since she could see the system was making fun of her without much thought—not that she isn't intelligent.

She honestly has no idea where to go after she leaves the restaurant. On the left, Xiyin is standing as usual next to her. Ma'am, even though I'm grateful you trust me to keep you safe, I don't think I could do the same for myself! You are usually by my side, so if a beast attacked one of us, it would probably hit both of us!

"YOU SON OF A BITC-"

Xuan and Xiyin are alerted when they hear a loud cry that seems to have come from a dark alleyway across the street. Oh no, Xuan has seen too many scary movies to be naive enough to believe that entering would not yield any positive results. "Should we checked it out?" Xiyin innocently pointed her index finger in the direction of the location and questioned.

It was unnecessary since a larger, stronger man pushed a well-known little child out of the alleyway. That boy was the same one who had run into Xuan Ji earlier. The boy had two other men standing beside him. The younger lad is lifted off the ground by the larger male who grips his collar firmly. A gorgeous blue floral pattern on a small pouch bag with a white tassel dropped from the boy's pocket.

"Xuan Jiejie, isn't that the same exact pocket that usually hanged around your waist robe?"

Because Xuan Ji had just recently "reincarnated" into this body, the pouch bag was absent from its original location. If Xiyin hadn't just now informed her, Xuan Ji wouldn't even be aware that she held the pouch bag. Now it was clear that the youngster had intentionally run into Xuan Ji and taken the pouch bag without her knowing. Since she had never even realized she had a pouch bag on her until now, Xuan felt a little ashamed.

The bigger man picked up the pouch bag after noticing the dropped object and threw the small lad to the ground. "Look, it wasn't even that difficult! If you would have been a good boy and hand over your pouch bag, it would had probably saved you some punches”, The larger male grinned as he eagerly opened the pouch bag in the hopes of finding some precious items, only to be disappointed at the sight of simply herbs.

"What the hell is this?!" The man apparently did not like what he saw because he threw all the herbs onto the ground and then stumped on them with his foot, reducing them into ashes and rubbish. He then tossed the pouch bag away. "You must think this is funny right?!" The youngster yelped in pain when the stranger grabbed hold of his hair.

"Stop this instant!" The man and his lackeys were alarmed by that voice. Xuan looked at Xiyin with an expression of skepticism, as if she were doubting Xiyin's sanity. In addition to the fact that Xiyin's attempt to assist Xuan is unlikely to be successful, both Xuan and Xiyin are likely to become involved in the conflict. Worst of all, the current Xuan Ji is completely untrained in battle, and Xuan has little faith that Xiyin will know how to defend herself. Why couldn't Xiyin see the situation and decide it would be best to remain silent? Xuan now regrets not leaving with Xiyin right away.

Goddammit, even though it's definitely not on purpose, Xiyin really enjoys making issues for Xuan. May the Lord have pity and spare her from assigned to a trouble-attracter!

The man let go of the younger youngster and said, "Look at what we have here," before approaching the two women. One of the lackeys grabbed the small boy's wrist and stopped any attempts at running away when he made an attempt to do so. "You shouldn't treat a little boy in that way. He still has a bright future in front of him”. Where did Xiyin get the bravery, Xuan wasn't sure. The comment was ignored by the buffer man as he licked his lips, drawing an unpleasant response from Xuan. The man tried to grab hold of Xiyin, but Xuan stopped him by twisting his wrist, causing him to grunt in agony. The man stared at Xuan as he withdrew his hand. Xuan looked down at the wrist the man had been twisted by. Muscle memory, perhaps?

"Xuan jiejie look out!"

The man hoisted Xuan off the ground while tightly grabbing her throat. Her nails left scratches on his arm. “What on earth are you moron waiting for? Grab the other female as well!" The boss, who appeared to be the leader, roared at his henchmen who flinched and quickly obliged.

[throped]

The Weeping Queen // Weeping Monk x OC // Chapter 1

.~ PROLOUGE ~. I'm not sure how many chapters there are gonna be but I'll let you know after the story is finished! This is an OC one but I'm also going to make a reader insert the same, but just the names changed.

Also, you're about 13 in this part, it is the part where you become involved with the Fey.

This world is messed up. Every little bit of it. People don’t listen, people don’t talk, people are mean while some people are too nice. I just don’t get it. My school doesn’t get much better though, not when there are little twats running around like they own the place. I have but merely two friends and one whom I never even asked to be friends with. Stupid people running this stupid world. This place would literally be in shambles if my anger could be expressed physically. But sometimes I find it amusing, people going about in their daily lives while having arguments over little things. I’m working on a plot, a plot to make everyone’s lives miserable. I enjoy their twisted eyes staring into my soul, almost like they could kill me. But they can’t. Nobody is capable of killing without being angered enough. They all think they’re above one another, but they just don’t realise that they are all exactly the same.

My part-time job also sucks, the fact that the person who runs the place makes me feel like I’m dumb also annoys me. Intelligence can come in many forms, whether it be academically or just survival skills and logical thinking. I prefer the one where I don’t have to waste my time studying, I simply don’t get the logic in that, study your WHOLE life just to get a paper and a handshake from a person who just went through the same thing? That just doesn’t sit right with me.

PRESENT

My parents and I decided to go to a cash converters store where we could buy things given by other people for a downgraded price. As I made my way into the store, my breath was immediately contaminated with the stench of bicycles rotting so I put up my hand to cover my nose from that foul odour. “Don’t exaggerate so much, Dae! Let’s be in a good mood today, shall we?” My mother encouraged, the words flowing into one ear and out the other.  “Huh, oh yes, good mood. Got it,” I replied with. As I walked deeper into the store, leaving my parents and little brother, I made my way to the paintings area. My eyes floated around, clearly mesmerised at the sight in front. How could one sell such an exquisite painting for FOUR DOLLARS? That’s literally nothing compared to what stood right in front of my eyes. The waterfall and garden looked extremely captivating but there was something else that caught my attention… There on a stand, laid a sword, a majestical sword one would say, it was simply magnificent. My fingers carefully brushed through the blade of the smooth sword. There was also writing, writing that looked quite ancient. I was wondering why a sword like this would be in a painting isle. But my thoughts were short-lived as my parents called me for suggestions on the quilts they had seen. I sighed and made my way over.

That night I went home and ate dinner, which was rice, my favourite! I put my laptop in my laptop bag while grabbing the keys from the back pocket and putting it into the front which would ultimately be easier for me. My body thumped against the bed because of the sudden pressure added. I yawned as my body melted into the soft bed. The relief of the night washing in on me.

***

My head felt like it was getting pierced by branches while the whole of my lower body felt like it was resting against a stone. The only problem was that when I woke up, a whole forest surrounded me. “What? Where am I, is anyone there!?” My restless voice yelled out. My body jerked into action, and I quickly stood up at the sound of sticks breaking and leaves rustling around me. I don’t know where I am. Is this a dream or what? Some kind of unexplained reverie? I’m not sure but all this seems pretty real to me. The rusting only continued to come nearer and nearer as my breath suddenly quickened. What a morning, is this even a morning? I’m not sure about anything anymore. Tall green trees and traces of flowers growing on the soft garden bed of the woods. Now that I think of it, it wasn’t the best idea to yell out in the woods where literally anything could pounce at you and supposedly end you. As the rustling still continued, I pressed myself against a tree to make myself less visible. But to my surprise, a feminine voice suddenly rang out, “who’s there!? Show yourself!” Seemed to be a girl, probably young, her voice didn’t sound as developed as adults. But the real question was, what was this girl doing in the woods alone? She was likely alone as an adult wouldn’t let her out here herself. Although, for all I know, this could be a fantasy world where pigs fly. I’m not really sure.

I relaxed a little as I saw the face of the voice. She was young, probably as old as me, if not, younger. Her brunette hair contradicted with her icy blue eyes as her attire looked quite different from mine. I stared at her for a solid five seconds and finally broke out of my trance, “who are you, where am I?” I questioned. “Uh, I’m Nimue, and this is the path to our village, do you not know where you are?” she looked puzzled to say the least. “To be honest, I was sleeping in my world, and I suddenly woke up and ended up… here?” I spoke as my panic seemed to arise. Was this the past, another world, another universe!? “Also, why are you dressed like that?” The girl or should I say Nimue asked. “I’m dressed perfectly fine thank you very much. But the real question is, why are you dressed like that,” I said as I compared our clothes. She had braids and it seemed as if she was wearing a black and white outlines cloak, probably with a knee length dress inside as her legs were visible. I looked down at myself and my white fur puffer jacket which always kept me warm, I was wearing long cargo black pants that were of good quality and a simple t-shirt inside. I’m happy that I didn’t change into my nightdress. “I always wear this, everyone wears this. And why are you wearing white? It looks stuffed,” Nimue said. “Well, this may sound crazy, but I think I’ve been transported from my world to yours because of something I’ve done… Also, my jacket is stuffed with something called jute, it’s meant to keep us warm in our world,” I replied to her questions. “I’m sorry for annoying you with my stupid questions but I can take you back to the village if you wish?” Nimue asked. It hadn’t even been a split second before I answered, “of course, I desperately need a place to seek refugee until I can get back to my home.”

It was prohibited to follow a stranger in my world, but this time it felt fine, I need somewhere to stay and this girl doesn’t seem like the kind to kill me in cold blood. Also, I want to get to know more information about this place so I just wanna ask her some questions to know my way around this place. As we were walking, I didn’t have the courage to utter a word, but I was awe-struck at the beauty of the forest as we were walking down the trail. Considering Nimue is using the term ‘village’, I determine that this place must not be as well developed and is probably not modern at all. Even looking at her clothes, in my world, they’d be considered shabby. “So, do you think the village will like me?”. “Maybe, I don’t really know, those old shriveled up onions that are considered elders may like or hate you,” she shrugged. But she suddenly changed her demeanor, “are you a human?” she quickly asked. Wondering why she asked me such a weird question; I nodded my head instead of answering. She gasped, “I’ve never met a human before and I’m pretty sure they may not accept you.” “Aren’t you a human too, Nimue?” I replied with clear confusion. “Well, no. I’m Fey, we have powers, and we can connect with the Hidden!” She said. This was too much for me, I didn’t understand anything. What is the ‘Hidden’? And what is ‘Fey’? All I can hope now is that the village will be welcoming since I’m a human. Or maybe… I just tell them I’m Fey.

[scum-aimbot-q1]

CHEAT REPORTING :: SCUM General Discussions

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The SCRAM is a small device that is secured around a person's ankle and continuously tests them for alcohol usage. The game is not available through Epic Games although it does share a very similar aesthetic to Fortnite. New version of hashcat is out. Another risk of free cheats is the increased likelihood of detection. IWantCheats is proud to introduce our new Ring of Elysium Hacks with 40 amazing features to help you win every round. Your app's client libraries may not support scram-sha Upgrade libpq on the application end and try again. No other Ring of Elysium Hack is undetected and updated as fast as ours. Zwift addresses weight-doping hack, and temporary ban of a user who flagged it Entering a dishonest weight affects game performance. SRAM saves costs with its plastic body, which is paired with a forged aluminum shifter for improved ergonomics and durability. First and foremost, SRAM designs the explainer video to help riders decide what brakes they need. This site is not affiliated in any way with Microsoft, Sony, Sega, Nintendo or any video game publishers. You can also read our Health and Safety. Identities do not need to be injected into the chip. You can report either online or by phone at TTY: All codes will be reset when user loads a new game Load only or Load And Start. The goal of each level is to rescue collect a set number of cats in order to unlock subsequent levels. You can do a blank letter search now by using '? So what is Bleeding Edge? If your DWI or intoxicated-related case is pending or you are on probation, a court may require that you wear one. How do these hacks happen and what can you do to mitigate the risk? The Di2 cable runs in a groove in the underside of the 3D-printed plastic head of the brake lever, so it's retained and can't get snagged or wear. Sram Eagle 12spd to 7spd DH hack? It wasn't supposed to be this way. I arrived at the office at and walked right past my home base. Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitoring SCRAM ankle bracelet is a type of alcohol monitoring device used either as a condition of a persons bond, or as a condition of probation. SRAM static random access memory memory, the main theme of this blog post, has to do with logic gate flip-flops or rather gated D latches. Today, SCRAM is used by 18, jurisdictions throughout North America, their central database monitoring the daily alcohol consumption levels of over , individuals, and around in the UK. Very pro! Check out the list from SRAM and let us know if you want to upgrade to the newest in shifting technology - eTap wireless. Royal Enfield launches Scram for daily commuting. Description: This patch is designed to add a simple save function to Final Fight 3. Leveraging the legendary history of SRAM shifting, the X4 rear derailleur provides great shifting performance. The ability to carry a spare battery and replace on the go is a nice feature. RE Scram will be propelled by Himalayan's cc single-cylinder engine that is capable of developing 24 bhp and 32 Nm of peak torque. Cosmic Cheat is a homebrew cheat system for the PS2. Likely, you already have this on the bike to start. Note: This procedure involves editing a game file; create a backup copy of the file before proceeding. Geometry Dash Hack is a unique cheat tool that you can download for free only from our website. Phishing emails to Microsoft users warning of Moscow-led account hacking have started to make the rounds, looking to lift credentials and. The Crossword Solver finds answers to American-style crosswords, British-style crosswords, general knowledge crosswords and cryptic crossword puzzles. It is a challenge-response scheme that prevents password sniffing on untrusted connections and supports storing passwords on the server in a cryptographically hashed form that is thought to be secure. The patients that use Soberlink are making an active effort to be accountable in early recovery. The original Red AXS cranks use direct mount rings using the same spline connection. Input the code so you can get all 8 Gym Badges even without beating any of the Gym Leaders. The court may require you to wear a SCRAM device as a condition of your pretrial release if you have been charged with an alcohol-related offense such as a DUI. Being a relatively new technology, and almost exclusively purchased by the government ie big government contracts , SCRAM Bracelet broke all the time. A jilted London woman allegedly hacked into her ex-boyfriend's his new sweetie to scram after he ended their relationship of two years,. P The cybersecurity company helped Microsoft identify the flaws being used by the. So to do this hack, here is what you'll need. You need at least psql 10, or pgAdmin 4. Unfortunately, that is the extent of information we have about the Scram 's launch details; now, on to what we know about this new bike in the country. UK woman allegedly hacked into ex's Alexa to scare off new girlfriend. These sites typically claim to offer many features for your Wii, while in reality they just provide a collection of freely available software, illegally. Each powered component has an indicator light that provides a guideline for time remaining. You could try to resell the powermeter crankset. SCRAM provides security benchmarking and return-on-security-investment data so organizations can better protect their networks, prioritize their security investments, calculate their risk, and improve the state of global cybersecurity. False Positives in the State of Texas. Often, the person's alcohol levels are checked once per hour by the ankle bracelet. There are two ways to look at this. Whether you need any help or just want to learn new words or perhaps you want to cheat a little :- , with such word games, this website will save your time and frustration often. DTI Registered Bring back your childhood memories with our creamy ice scramble. In one of the most anticipated launches - and least well-kept secrets - in recent cycling history, SRAM made public its eTap groupkit. Nobody wants to get banned hacking Scum, so our priority is keeping you safe. Add the following line under the "[Engine. The cheat code has existed in gaming since as far back as the Nintendo Entertainment System. SRAM introduces backward compatibility for speed eTap users. Word scramble solvers are designed to be easy. If you continue to have issues with noise or performance, please contact your local authorized SRAM dealer for evaluation. When a person drinks alcohol, a certain amount will be metabolized and emitted as sweat through skin pores. Tip: You should be able to consistently clear your own levels without ever relying on tools like savestates, slowdown, fast-forward, and so on. Applications Extended! There's still a chance for you to enrol to study for your Undergraduate and Graduate Degree programmes. Enter the length or pattern for better results. Hackers breach thousands of Microsoft customers around the world. Pick up a high-frequency pest control device and watch those mice scram. Schurter and Courtney Renew Scott. It doesn't have graphical capacities, but it decodes and modifies the essential information contained in the battery backup file and corrects the checksums after modifications. First, decide which users to migrate to scram-sha You are not logged in, this activity will be deleted after one month. This RAM type stores data using the six cells of transistor memory. Get the desired Score, Stars and Gold with couple of clicks. Forget the car, safe and garage hacks displayed at the DefCon and Black Hat This is not good in scram world. First there was X01 and then X1. Avid and SRAM both hold a fairly wide range of disc brake models, which all work under very similar technologies. How can I drink with a scram monitoring. When a battery dies on a component, that component stops working. I wrote about these last month. Over our decades of experience providing alcohol monitoring products and services, we've received our fair share of questions. And I'm switching to a rigid fork anyway: 1kg saved on the bike and the added robustness the compression damper on my Reba gave up working after km of race will outweigh the few seconds lost on the descents. Web Media Network Limited, - The upcoming RE bike in India, which has been spotted on test runs plenty of times so far, is essentially a more road-focused iteration of the RE Himalayan. These cheat codes make free-roaming the world so much more elevating. For example - you can use the BlipBox as a temporary shifter when working on your bike. Givisiez, Switzerland, March 15th, SRAM realized that and compiled a list of 11 hacks and tips to get the most out of eTap. Several years ago, I started to get concerned about hacking and data venture, Scram Software, in , specializing in cyber-security. Our staff can meet you at the court, jail, probation department, home, school, work, or any other location. Still being in early development you may come across more reasons than you'd like where cheats could save. The bike was setup with a 1x drivetrain. This powerplant will be offered in combination with a five-speed gearbox. In this article we'll show you how to enable the console commands and what cheats are usable. Since SRAM has a single block of memory, including six transistors becomes necessary. Saving: Game saves after the level complete screen. SRAM is low in density and rarer. Scram definition, to go away; get out usually used as a command : I said I was busy, so scram. If you ever find yourself stuck in solving the jumbled words, then Unscrambler is the App for you. I think you forgot to include. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the scram program it is a alcohol monitoring service for those with convictions such as low grade DUIs, public intoxication, things to that nature. The size of the SRAM block in the snapshot can. SRAM does not currently sell it as a spare service part. Additionally, the device routinely malfunctioned. Almost every single known SMB glitch has been fixed. Word Unscrambler is a simple online tool for unscrambling or solving scrambled words, typically useful in generating valid words for word games such as Scrabble, Words with Friends, Wordle, Wordfeud, Wordscraper, TextTwist, Word Cookies, Anagrams etc. I can't think of a better way to end the year than to be a. Our monitors are very reliable and dependable. Select a tab below to see some of the most frequently asked client questions and answers about our monitoring technologies. The SCRAM Remote Breath is a device that is portable, hand-held, and cellular that tests for alcohol as it takes a high-definition photo as well as detecting any abnormality with the tests or photo that is taken. Criminals are going to love this one hack which can disable ankle bracelet. The bracelet is usually attached to your ankle. The company was very good about coming to change the battery, which worked until about month 5. Since the device tests for alcohol consumption automatically every thirty minutes, wearers cannot cheat the system. The Homebrew Channel and the Twilight Hack are strictly distributed as a free download from this website. Royal Enfield Scram India launch details revealed. Lots of people have expressed the views shown in this video by Path Less Pedaled and with good reason. It was only a few weeks ago that I was asking the bike. Trade help please? Generator turned on; Computer System rebooted. Wearers are forced to comply with sobriety orders during the monitoring period. Here are all the cheat codes in Grand Theft Auto 5. Henry has developed a neat Hack to minimise this wear and get your Sram lever working tip top!. A free word unscrambler to unscramble letters fast. Someone who is on probation or awaiting trial may be equipped with an ankle monitor, or what is commonly referred to as a SCRAM. Hack someone's text messages without having their phone Text messages hacking is the primary function of any spyware. SRAM states the batteries are good for over kms with a charge time of 45 minutes. With free cheats, you can never trust that you're getting a legitimate piece of software or it isn't packed with a virus or malware. With a global community buying, selling and connecting to make fashion more inclusive, diverse and less wasteful. The left shift lever was modified to actuate the dropper seat post, similar to early hacks on MTB. SCRAM devices detect the presence of alcohol at the surface of a person's skin in the area where the device is located the ankle. Where language is for revenge but with basic plain top and as intended. The ideal is to migrate everyone, all at once. If that sentence didn't make sense to you, you're not alone. NOTE: Game will produce a black screen if no prior save is detected. If unsure, please check the SRAM website. Shimano: What's The Difference?. True Mullet hack since you are likely converting and upgrading an existing drivetrain with minimal changes. Inputting certain buttons in a game would unlock extra lives, unlimited ammo, and infinite jump and so much more. Patching Instructions can be found in the readme. Frequently Asked Questions. This engine belts out a maximum power output of 24 bhp and a peak torque of 32 Nm. Just 12g separates the two models. Post by TimmS on Tue Nov 23, am. Use a text editor to edit the "BIOInput. The collected materials are then analyzed by an electrochemical sensor in the bracelet housing. Another cost-conscious hack, the engineers at SRAM employ a bushing instead of a bearing used in the X01 and XX1 shifters, which isn't noticeable on the trail, considering it still has X-Actuation and Zero Loss. The best 26 synonyms for scram, including: hightail-it, depart, scoot, scat, decamp, flee, lam, shoo, skedaddle, vamoose, wait and more Find another word for scram. If you block and seal the bracelet it will probably detect that abnormal transpiration condition are present and assume a hack. With these genius hacks for mouse-proofing your home, you'll be free of these freeloaders in no time. Hi, my last sram hack is for Wonderboy in Monster World and his incredible password 45 cars longdamn - Continue auto load your save saved in password house. The latter is the top of the range, with a carbon cage, while the XO1 is the 'entry level' option with an alloy cage. A word or phrase that is commonly used in conversational speech e. The Crossword Solver found 20 answers to "Scram! Caution - Risk of Explosion if battery is replaced by an incorrect type. Hacks o'Clock: How to set up scram. The scram bracelet started off very quiet, however, with daily showers, by around weeks you could hear the scram bracelet go off every half hour. A security researcher has figured out a way to hack a rather mundane device that is used to keep a watch on people under house arrest, the ankle bracelet. When paired with our wide range t cassette and GX 2x rear derailleur, GX 2x11 provides the widest range of gears ever offered on a 2x drivetrain. This patch is designed to add a simple saving mechanism to Toy Story. PostgreSQL's current password-based authentication mechanism is old and weak by today's standards. It's likely not a hack of the game at all. Scram Hack - Other FPS Games Hacks and Cheats Forum [Release] Scram Hack We strive to provide all our services for free and not interrupt your visit with intrusive advertisements or restrictions - support us by disabling your ad blocker or whitelisting our site. Step 2 Make sure to put something about rating up and favoriting the guide. We've begun to assemble our affordable XX1 hack, but before we get into the details, here's a bit more background on why you should even give a damn. Sram brake levers can often get a little bit 'sticky' becoming slow to return due to wear and tear of the brake lever. Whether you are looking for an upgrade or want to check out a new bike's component specification prior to purchase this is the place to find out about brake features, prices. Be the first to get Todd's latest hacked recipes, sent to your inbox every week. Cheats edit and apply sequence: 1 Select the game Load only 2 Open Cheats menu 3 Ether the codes 4 Select Apply when exiting from cheats editor It is possible to go back in to the cheats editor at a later time, and enter more codes. The Royal Enfield Scram will come powered by the same cc single-cylinder engine as the one that powers the RE Himalayan. If no save is present, launch new game. My electronic monitoring officer, aka Satan, always thought I had somehow figured out how to hack the device and was disabling it on my own. Information: This asm lets you modify the conditions and items you start with when beginning a game. The bracelet continuously monitors your alcohol consumption by testing the alcohol content in your sweat. Shifting performance and weight is negligible. A single transistor can form a memory block with only a single transistor. Posted: Sun Aug 27, pm. If you get a mysterious link sent to from a close friend over Facebook messenger, it might be wise not to click. The SRAM speed chain is narrower and is not compatible with the speed rings on Ultegra, it won't be taken up by the teeth. Will be a Virtual Festival on August 15th! Take the ham warm it up to body temperature Do this by sticking the ham between your butt cheeks for minutes. One: That it's a remarkably inexpensive product to develop and make. Royal Enfield Scram India launch may be round the corner. Please realize that this is a rather big assignment, you will not finish if you don't files , or sas. The program trains you to operate the plant, then provides a qualifying exam in the form of a game.

[dancingamongstdust]

Can you write a tsukishima kei X reader where they both tease eachother but don't realise that they have feelings for eachother. Then tsukishima says something really offensive to reader and she gets really upsets and ignores him, he then realizes his feelings for her?

I struggled writing this but it was actually quite fun! Thank you for the request.

Teasing was something fun. The tumbling words were light and playful, hinting at something more but never letting their secrets free.

You lived for the flash of annoyance in Tsukishima’s hazel eyes; a small smirk always betraying that he enjoyed the banter. Whether you were speaking to him or commenting loud enough to draw his attention, he would turn to you fully and respond in kind. Though his words dripped in sarcasm, you never took them personally.

Perhaps you should have. Your comments never held any malice and you always strayed away from actual insults.

Tsukishima didn’t quite understand that part of your game.

Some of the things that he said stung. In those times, you’d just flip him off and pretend to go about your day without a second thought. But they did bother you.

Enough to find you standing in front of your mirror and glaring at your reflection as though it could give you the answers. Everything about your relationship with Tsukishima was frivolous. You had never held a real conversation. He was just a stupidly confident man with a sharp tongue and honeyed hair. His glasses were ridiculous, his taste in music was poor, and his eyes were the type of golden brown that snatched your breath from your lungs.

You groaned and turned away from your reflection.

Why did you have to fall for him?

Was it because of his voice and the soft edge that lay beneath its harsh words? Perhaps the gentleness of his movements had drawn your attention. He never looked out of place and you envied him that.

You contemplated telling him initially but decided against it. Getting a better feel of his attitude towards you would help before any misguided confessions slipped out.

That lasted until the next day.

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything intelligent to come from you but think things through a little more before you speak.”

Tsukishima glanced down at you as he passed, the hint of a smile on his lips. The insult wasn’t meant. He had often mocked your intelligence before to little response – after all, he knew that you didn’t get easily offended.

This time though, you didn’t immediately respond and when you did, it was just a slight jab about something trivial.

He turned around to look back at you but you had hurried off somewhere.

Shrugging that off, he continued on his day until the next time he saw you. When he did, he waited for the retaliation.

And waited.

And waited.

He was so focused on listening out for your snide comment that he didn’t even pay attention to his other conversation. Yamaguchi, thankfully, didn’t need an active participant in his discussion. He only seemed minorly confused by Tsukishima’s confusion before continuing.

Once you’d left, he sighed and said, “Maybe it’s been a bad day.”

Tsukishima glanced over his shoulder to confirm you hadn’t walked back in. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t, like, call her a bitch, right?”

“What? Obviously not.”

Yamaguchi shrugged. “Then don’t worry so much about it. She’ll be back to normal soon.”

Tsukishima scoffed, electing to pretend the conversation was unimportant. He changed the topic onto something that was more in his area of expertise but his thoughts kept hanging on you. It irritated him to no end and he spent the rest of the day snapping a little too harshly at everybody.

The next day went no better.

He waited to hear your voice, having never realised before how well he knew it. It was something missing from his day and he didn’t even know why.

“It’s not my fault if she’s going to be sensitive about stupid stuff,” he stated when Yamaguchi next commented about your unusual silent treatment.

“Nope. Some people are just soft.”

“You’re one of those people,” Tsukishima had retorted. He meant it mockingly though any kind of rudeness had little effect on his best friend. It was part of who he was… he had really believed you understood that.

Yamaguchi tried to move on but Tsukishima continued with his complaints.

“Why would she just suddenly start taking offense to things?”

“Maybe you hit a nerve.”

“How was I meant to know she was touchy about her intelligence? Anyway, it was days ago. She should be over it by now.”

“If it’s bothering you that much, just say sorry.”

“It’s not bothering me.”

He wasn’t stupid – of course, it was – but he was hardly about to tell somebody that. You were nobody to him and your lack of comments was an absolute relief. In fact, he was rather happy that you had decided to finally take the hint.

A whole month passed and he stopped waiting to hear your voice. His stubbornness kept any apology away from you, even though one accidental meetup in the hall had nearly drawn one out. It was honestly ridiculous, he had nothing to apologise about.

He could apologise just to have you speak to him again… Tsukishima quickly chased away that traitorous thought. It was rare for him to apologise for things that actually required it, let alone for nonsense like this. A simple fact that everybody he complained to seemed to directly refute.

Just apologise. Just apologise. Like he cared enough to do so.

It took him another two months to realise why he minded so much. Why he was still hung up on you despite your supposed non-importance.

He had been walking with Yamaguchi when they passed a flower store, the place having a special on roses for your loved ones. Yamaguchi had decided to get some and for a split second, Tsukishima had touched the petals and considered buying some for you.

He pulled his hand away as though it had been burned.

“Normally you get fifteen for a situation like this.”

He scoffed at Yamaguchi. “You really need to deal with your obsession about this woman.”

Tsukishima didn’t buy fifteen roses but he realised then what it was about you that bothered him so. And he absolutely hated the conclusion that he came to.

He stepped in front of you the next day, drawing your attention to him (though he didn’t know that it rarely left). “Why are you ignoring me?” he asked.

“I’m not?” It sounded like a question, even to you.

Tsukishima wasn’t going to argue with you about it. He just raised an eyebrow and waited for you to sigh and continue.

“I’m just… I…”

“Wow that explains it very well.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Would it kill you to say something nice?”

“Since when have we ever been nice to each other?” he asked.

Of course you didn’t have an answer for that. You had never been ‘nice’ to each other – at least not in the way most people would consider nice. But the thing was, those moments still came to your memory fondly.

“You know, I always made sure never to actually insult you,” you said.

“I never actually insulted you.”

“Yes, you did,” you pointed out. “You’re constantly pointing out how stupid I am or how uncoordinated I am or whatever!”

“It’s not like I meant them.”

That tripped you up a little. Tsukishima’s height had you looking up at him, his expression entirely unchanged. Why would he have said things that weren’t true? It wasn’t like you had even initiated this entire taunt exchange way back when you had first met. Sure, you had responded but it was his comment on your hair that had gotten to you.

“You didn’t… what?”

Tsukishima stared at you like you were stupid. “It’s not my fault if you choose to take things personally but get over it a bit quicker, would you?”

It wasn’t an apology, not by a long shot, but it was enough to explain something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint yourself. Tsukishima wanted to talk to you. Even if he thought you were being childish, his main problem lay in your sudden silent treatment.

“We’re not friends,” you said.

“No.”

“So why do you care if we’re talking or not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t.”

He did. Of course he did. Part of him wanted to say that but his pride just wouldn’t allow it. Thankfully, the message seemed to get through to you regardless.

“Do you want to go out for lunch?” you offered.

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

You smiled, noticing the small smirk’s appearance on his face. “Tomorrow. At 12.”

“Fine.”

Tsukishima left you standing there, refusing to glance back even if he wanted to. He told himself it was because he didn’t care and it had nothing to do with the uncharacteristic smile on his face.

[marsbutterfly]

Birthday Boy

Summary: Zeke doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday but you are too stubborn to let the day go to waste.

                              Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

The rule was simple: No birthday talk. As a child, Zeke had never known the joy of being celebrated for a whole day for his parents were always forcing him to study so he could be the Eldian Salvation.

But all he wanted for so long was to have someone, anyone, that would celebrate this day with him. Eventually, when his parents were sent to Paradis, he stopped caring for birthdays because it was a constant reminder of what he had done to his family.

This year, for once, you decided to ignore his rule completely. Zeke has always made sure you have the most special birthdays of all time so it is only fair for you to retribute the favor at any chance you get.

It’s hot in Liberio, the warm breeze rushes through your skirt lifting the cloth gently and you feel the humid weather against your skin. It’s been five hours since Zeke has been looking for you, completely unaware that you have been following him all day.

In the morning, he yet again told you not to make a big deal about his birthday but for once, you want to show him how loved he is. By the warriors, the warrior candidates, his grandparents and especially by you.

You love him with every inch of your body. A burning passion that could only be compared to the hot depths of hell. You love the way his beard tickles your cheek when he nuzzles himself against you, or how he always goes out of his way to buy you your favorite flowers.

One time, he bought you your favorite candy bar, which unfortunately is quite hard to find in town but it is available on the other side of the city. When you asked him about it, his answer was: “I got it on the way home.”

“Zeke, we live so far away from that store.” You reply, unwrapping the candy and eager to begin devouring the sweet bar in your hands.

“I took the long way home.” Is all he says in response before sitting by your side on the couch. He didn’t even ask for a bite because he knows how much you love it.

The look in his eyes when he sees you after coming back from a mission is the most precious thing you have ever seen and it fills you with a sense of worthiness and love. The least you can do is give those feelings back to him.

He has looked for you at the market, where the warrior candidates “coincidentally” offered him a slice of his favorite pie flavor.

He checked his grandparents' house, who “happened” to have cooked his favorite meal, not knowing he would be joining them.

Zeke also went into his office, where the warriors and Colt were drinking an expensive bottle of whisky they obtained from one of Willy Tybur’s guards. 

When he was about to give up, he decided to check the place he took you on your first date and there you were. The place where you shared all of your firsts together. First kiss, first time having sex, even his first titan transformation.

The vision that welcomed him was stunning. You, sitting in the back of a car, completely naked. Your skin is wrapped much like a present and he can’t help but blush at the sight.

“You know I don’t like to celebrate my birthday.” He says, walking closer and gently touching your hips. You wrap your arms around his neck, your breasts touching his chest through the ribbons.

“Baby, you’ve been celebrating all day.” You respond while moving your hands from the back of his neck to his face. Your thumbs gently brushing his facial hairs and he shivers in response to your touch.

“What do you mean?” He asks and you have to remind yourself that this is the most intelligent soldier the military has ever seen. He is the War Chief for fuck’s sake but still so stupid when it comes to basic things such as these.

“All the random encounters you’ve had all day weren’t random at all.” You say, pulling him into the car with you, “I ordered the pie you had with the kids weeks ago, your grandma asked me how to make your birthday special and I told her to cook your favorite meal. I was also the one that managed to get the expensive bottle of whisky from Mr. Tybur.”

“And you did all of this for me?” His voice quivers and you can see a few tears in his ocean blue eyes. You nod, pulling him in for a kiss. You lose yourself in his lips, forgetting time, space and everything else existent.

“Of course baby and I have some more presents for you at home. Actual presents.” You say and he laughs.

“This is by far my favorite present though.” Zeke replies, “Thank you, Y/N. Really. This has been an amazing day with all my favorite people.”

“If Mr Ksaver was here, he would be proud of the man you became.” You whisper against his lips and he nods, a smile stamped on his lips in such a way you have never seen before.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, touching your foreheads together. “Maybe I will let you celebrate my birthday from now on.”

“I promise to make every year better than the last baby.” You say and he nods, closing the car door behind him before steaming up the vehicle. 

The rule is simple: Zeke will only celebrate his birthday if you are by his side. And you don’t plan on going anywhere.

[wgc-productions]

Small Victories E105: Resume Blues

We are now past the halfway point of the series! I think this episode holds a lot of tender moments and gets us to see Marisol outside of the bubble she’s been nuzzled in for the past four episodes. 

Also, as someone who is very passionate about cooking and food (because it’s delicious and cooking for yourself and others is a top tier activity) it was fun to write an episode that gets to highlight Marisol’s own knowledge about food. 

It was important to me that Marisol not come off as a totally clueless person. Like she makes a lot of choices that could be constituted as dumb. There are even several moment throughout the show where she is shown to be highly sensitive to being perceived of as stupid or dumb. And that sensitivity and acknowledgment that she is sensitive to being seen as dumb was significant because, often times, drug addicts are treated as if they are unintelligent. 

This idea tries to separate the non-addict from the addict (i.e. “that could never happen to me. I’m too smart to do that.”). Not only does this type of thinking sand away the nuances of addiction, but it’s also deeply untrue. Being a drug addict does not mean you are unintelligent it just means your judgment is impaired. And while compromised judgment can lead to stupid decisions, it doesn’t make one fundamentally incapable of intelligent thought. 

All this to say, that when Marisol is showing up and showing off all her food knowledge, remember that she is a smart lady with an approximate knowledge of many things.

Anyhow, you can listen to the episode here:

Podchaser | Apple | Spotify | Google Podcasts | RSS Feed | Website

An, if you’d like to financially support us, you can join our Patreon or buy a sticker or T-shirt or mug or something from our store

[passivenovember]

And Everyday was Overcast.

Part One : Hammers and Nails

Billy needed someplace to go when the grave was desecrated.

When his eyes unglued themselves, peeling off eyelashes in their wake, when the earth was overturned, torn and left hanging like shreds of old fabric; Steve had been there. By some miracle he had been consumed like he always was, sat thinking by a plot that had grown yellow flowers to blanket Billy in his eternal sleep. And maybe it was those small visits sheltered between morning runs and eight hour shifts stocking the horror section that Billy had come back.

From the grave. From the brink.

The Earth started vibrating, spidery cracks turning volatile, and Steve was met with ocean blue. Red rimmed eyes locked on his face, hands reaching and gripping. Nails digging in as Steve wrapped Billy's grime covered shoulders in his own jacket. Rubbed the chilled skin of his arms, looked in his eyes, and took him home.

Someplace Billy could wash the day from his skin.

--

The blonde haired boy who had turned from human to creature and back again deserved something more than what he was left with. He deserved warm meals, and sunshine on his skin, and soft bed sheets that opened like a celestial sky when Billy felt like shelving the enormity of what he had discovered. What waited after death.

Steve wanted that for him.

Not happiness, not closure, exactly, but something close to it.

At the root of it all, Steve knew Billy should feel safe. Welcome and warm and comfortable, in the house that Steve’s father had built for his mother all those years ago when she was plump and round with child. Steve felt like his father that day as he carried the last box over the threshold and took in the rigid, tense line of Billy’s shoulders.

He let the moment rest. Let it breathe, as his father always instructed. “Do you think you could feel safe here, Billy?”

The air sat heavy. Cold and wet and warm, somehow, like the morning after a night of heavy rain. Billy sucked in a sharp breath and pivoted slowly, face reverent, as if standing barefoot in a cathedral among gods and heroes. Met with divinity.

Instead he got Steve.

Just Steve, trying not to stare at the lone curl hanging over Billy’s forehead when he offered a tight, controlled smile. “It’s fine.” Billy said, only.

Steve tore his eyes away. Focused on the second story banister to stop his gut from falling through the floor. ”Fine? As in, I would rather eat my own toenails than live here, fine or, like. It's okay, I don't mind it here, I might even like it someday, fine?"

Billy adjusted the strap across his shoulders. “It’s just what I expected it would be.”

Steve shook his head. “What’s that mean?”

"Relax, Harrington, it's." Billy turned again, eyebrows scrunched together. “Its. Pastel. And huge. Obscenely decorated—“

”My mom had it professionally done before they—“

”It was built for a happy family with lots of kids. Lots of love, but now it's. It feels. Lost.”

Billy had started saying things like that.

Heavy, saturated, impossible things that left Steve scrambling. Wishing for the intelligence to absorb the meaning rather than question it. Steve rested the box at the foot of the stairs and offered a smile to the second story. Runoff for the pools of blue that looked on.

"That's a lot of adjectives. I can get you a hotel, maybe. Or an apartment. I could cosign, I know they gave you a pretty penny and you could probably afford your own, but. I could. I would." Steve said harshly. "For you. I would."

"It's fine here. It's okay."

Steve felt like a science experiment. Egg boy with three heads and ten legs or something. Suckers on the tips of his thumbs, the way Billy studied him. Steve counted the freckles on Billy's nose--one, two, three, four--trying to stay afloat.

--

Dinner was made every night though Steve never saw it happen.

The cookbooks sat alphabetized over his mother's antique bar cart on that little periwinkle blue shelf. He'd come home, every night, at six on the dot, to a set table. The mixing bowls were always clean and put away, counters wiped and ingredients stored neatly on the shelves his pantry, but the wooden spoons spelled it out for Steve, still shifting from dark to light as they lay drying on the dish rack.

"You don't have to make dinner, you know." Steve took another bite of Salisbury steak, furious that it tasted so good. Like love soaking into his skin.

Billy shook his head. "I want to."

"I know, I'm saying it's okay if you decide not to, one day. Like if you get caught up reading. Or if you can get Max to drive you to the history museum, or if you--"

"It's the least I can do."

Steve hated that. He let his fork clatter to the table. "I'm not expecting repayment for this."

"I'm not a freeloader."

"And I'm not an asshole." Steve deadpanned, lifting a finger that sewed Billy's smug lips together. "Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"Whatever you were thinking, with that clever glint in your stupid blue eyes."

Billy cracked his knuckles, clearly fighting a smile. "Never thought you noticed the color of my eyes, Harrington."

"Yeah, sure." Steve stood, gathering the plates and forks and knives from the table, his own eyes counting primary threads. "Can see those things from space, Jesus." He finally looked up, at Billy's curiously pink face.

Pink lips, cheeks, nose.

Steve gripped ceramic. Swallowed against a swell of guilt. "You don't owe me anything, Billy. I like having you here. I want you here."

Billy gave a simple, controlled nod.

Steve got used to it.

--

The shack wasn't built until the doctor told Billy that he'd probably wouldn't remember all of what happened. The big things would stick out, neon greens and blues against the forest head, but Billy shouldn't be too hard on himself if the important things got thrown away.

And some of those jagged little pieces were there. The bad things. Anger and hatred, both for self and world, left hanging on the cliff of who he was now. Everything that had formed Billy Hargrove--the person he was, the person Steve had pretended not to notice--were packed away. Soft, silky emotion covering knives left dull and rusted in their drawer.

Billy remembered like flashes of lightening across the summer sky--sudden and then gone. Here and away. He remembered Hawkins high and Max who'd grown six inches in three years. Dustin who had been wearing that stupid shirt when the mall burned down.

And Steve.

Always Steve, sat next to him. A foot away at first and then holding his hand, later, when Owens said Billy should be kind to himself. Gentle.

He wasn't.

And he didn't come out of his room for three days after that, after the wall was placed in front of him. The crack under Billy's door always keeping Steve at bay. Trapped behind the starting line. He paced around on the carpet, lifting his fist and letting it fall again, never breaking up the silence.

Billy was crying.

Billy never cried, anymore, but he cried that night and Steve felt helpless. Pathetic and stupid and useless, locking himself in his father's study and trying to formulate a plan, just like Owens had told him to when the sun fell on a world without Billy Hargrove and then suddenly rose again, set anew.

Set crooked when Billy stormed from the hospital room, slamming doors that echoed like rolls of thunder in his wake.

Figure out a way to help him.

Sterile, eerie white walls stared back at him as Steve shrugged his shoulders on the third day, aluminum hospital chair groaning beneath his weight.

I'm not sure how to do that.

You don't have to do anything. Owens said. Just help him get the emotion out. Let him write, draw, sing, dance, whatever he needs to assist in telling us his story.

--

Potato casserole and red wine bore witness to Steve's leap of faith. Billy turned away from the novel he had tucked under his arm when Steve got home from work that day, eyes curious. "Spit it out, Harrington."

"I'm not sure what you--"

"You've been giving me the side eye since you got home." Billy turned the page in his book, still managing to read both it and the room as he urged, "Tell me what's wrong."

And nothing was wrong, and.

Everything was wrong. Steve leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Do you want to come with me to the art store tomorrow?"

Billy frowned. "I don't need anything from the art store."

"It's not always about what you need," Steve reasoned, patting his mouth with a napkin. "We could get stuff you want. That's all, just pretty things. Nice things. It could be a treat."

"Paper and scissors are considered a treat?" Billy cocked an eyebrow. "I do love touching shit, it's one of my favorite hobbies."

Steve scrubbed at his mouth, swallowing down against a big, fat, crooked smile dripping with affection. "C'mon, it'll be fun. We can get whatever you want; clay, oil pastels, acrylics--"

"I wanted to check out the library tomorrow."

"You go everyday, blue, you're a regular bookworm."

"So?" Billy demanded, taking another bite of casserole. "I like to read. Just 'cause you can't doesn't mean the rest of us have to hold back." He grinned, low and slow. "Don't let your jealousy turn you into a tyrannical landlord, pretty boy."

"God, you're the absolute worst."

Billy turned back to his novel. "The art store will just inspire me to paint nudies."

"So paint them." Steve challenged.

Bait. Hook and line.

"You gonna pose for me if I let you buy out the joint?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe once, if you look at the easels while we're there."

"No shit?" Billy leaned forward, biceps flexing in his cutoff as he stuck a polaroid of a smiling blonde woman between the pages of his novel. "The fuck is this about, Harrington?"

"I'm worried."

"That you'll take me to a crafts store and I'll put you out of house and home? Reasonable concern, I guess."

"About the diagnosis, dipshit. About you." Steve gulped down the rest of his wine. Made sure every last drop had seasoned his words before any were said aloud, where they might do damage. He let the glass rest on the table between his fingertips, stem rolling from pad to pad. He took a deep, steadying breath. "You haven't been the same since--"

"I got hijacked by a space demon or crawled out of my own grave?" Billy shrugged, picking at something in his teeth. "Be more specific."

Steve fiddled with the handle of his fork. Hand picked his words. Refined the meaning. "Yes, and. Both."

Billy didn't say anything for a while and the room finally settled. Falling fast asleep, thick with inertia and silence until the book was opened once more and Steve went back to digging through his casserole, picking at the spring onions.

Letting the moment breathe.

Until, finally. "I feel like I could crawl out of my own skin."

Steve tripped over himself to get those blue eyes on him once more. "That's understandable--"

"I feel fucking useless." Billy snapped, voice cracking in two, and. Suddenly Steve couldn't look at him. Couldn't bare to see his face. "I'm trying to replay what happened. Every second, I'm trying to figure out why. Why me."

Steve counted the primary threads in the table cloth. One, two, three. "You can't go on asking yourself questions like that."

"I can do what I--"

"It wasn't your fault, Billy. Any of it."

"I'm not talking about the Fourth of July, I'm talking about. Death. I'm talk about what comes before and what comes after and how they're the same." Billy turned the page in his novel furiously, eyebrows scrunched together. "I never thought they'd be the same. It's like I've started over."

Steve couldn't possibly understand, but.

He watched pools of blue scan the page. Took measured breaths, never pushing until Billy was ready to share more. Until he tossed the book on the counter and sighed, head buried in his hands. "I don't understand how I got here."

"Easy," Steve whispered. "That's easy. You were born from love--"

"My parents aren't in love anymore."

"But they were, once." Steve shook his head. "When you were made. They loved each other, and they loved you, and your life was full of love that never made sound but it was still there." Steve willed Billy to look at him. Willed the skies to turn blue again.

They didn't.

Billy sighed, low and slow. "Did love bring me here again?"

"I guess so."

"Who's love?" Billy demanded, leaning forward into the table and crushing his novel where it lay against light oak tabletops. "Who loved me enough to bring me back here? To wish for me."

And.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to say. Lines he wanted to map out, directions that lead from A to B and back again, but it didn't seem useful. Didn't rest important, as Steve took the novel from its place on the table and smoothed worn pages, tucking the polaroid in its place. "I'm sorry things feel weird for you." He said softly.

Billy grabbed the book, staring down at his casserole. "'S not so bad, I guess."

And, for Steve, that wasn't good enough.

--

Billy worked mostly in charcoal. He painted nightmares, and doorways into the past, delicate, swirling lines telling a story that made Steve's heart ache to see. To hear, with every drag of material across fruited canvas'.

Steve asked him about it, once. Over dinner, with the lights turned low. "Why do you paint such horrible things?"

And Billy had smiled. Bright and true. "How's that?"

"Y'know. Black scabs and eyeballs melting out of skulls and sliding down the ridge of people's faces, and--"

"It's what I see." Billy replied, voice soft. Measured. "It's what follows me around."

So Billy spent every hour locked in his shed, curls tucked over a growing body of work. Fingers turned rotten with charcoal soot as he made sense of what happened.

Steve liked to watch him work.

Liked to see the tension ease more and more from the strong shoulders that travelled beside him up the stairs each night. Steve felt the dig of each pencil in the crevice between his ribs when Billy finished masterpiece after masterpiece.

Still, it wasn't enough.

Along the ridges of creation, therapy lay half buried in the sand. It was state mandated, that Billy go and learn how to deal with the things charcoal couldn't straighten out for him. Like the nightmares, and the migraines that kept him from eating dinner at the table when June gave way to July.

Steve worried. Constantly, fervently, but Billy refused to go, always wiping his hands on the powder green apron Steve got for him at the art store, and insisting, "This is a form of therapy." Billy gestured around the room. To the mountains of loose sketch papers and half finished canvases that lay strewn across every surface. "This is how I cope."

And it was.

And it happened the same way every time.

Things got bad for him and Billy would disappear into his shed. Steve would come home from the office to find that his mother's prized Thomas Kincaid collection had been replaced by Billy's work. It was haunting. Sick and twisted and so, so beautiful.

He found himself standing and staring at it for hours, eyes tracing over the swirling lines of purgatory.

It made Steve feel helpless, but.

Still, Billy refused to go. Still, he buried himself in his work. Still, he painted himself into a hole.

The path toward recovery was littered with charcoal drawings until it wasn't.

Until Steve came home one afternoon to find Billy talking with a little boy who had his throat cut open.

[mandoinevarro]

NO REFUNDS

Words: 5.1k :))

Rating: E, baby

Warnings: Smut (surprise surprise), bad words :0, masturbation, a biiiit of praise kink, face fucking, cumplay? let me know on the comments, etc. etc. 

a/n: Happy Star Wars day!! The first few lines of this are an attempt at dumb comedy, but humor me a little and you’ll get a reward (smut) along the yellow-brick road

Finally, the lanky kid behind the counter stops air drumming with two chicken bones gnawed dry and trails his dopey eyes from the gloved fist on the table, up a bracer, and along a flexed arm, until they settle on the Mandalorian helmet staring him down and waiting for an answer. The employee removes the music bandeau from around his ears and settles it down, its noise so loud Mando can hear it from where it lays. The kid scratches the whiskers of facial hair growing patchy on his cheeks and thoughtfully nibbles on one of the bones, trying to figure out what one does when a client shows up.

“Uh, what?”

“I need to speak to the owner,” the Mandalorian repeats slowly.

“Oh, uh.” Mouth gaping like a fish too stupid to know it should fear hooks, the kid calmly turns his attention to the four walls of the hardware store, searching for guidance in the fluorescent signs hanging around the room and dictating the store’s rules like they’re ancient scriptures:

NO CHILDREN

WILL BUY STOLEN GOODS FOR LOWER PRICE

NO IMPS

NO REPUBLIC OFFICIALS

NO REFUNDS

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

“You, uh,” the kid continues, lingering on that last stanza and flicking open a dusty agenda that probably hasn’t been touched since the war ended, “you got an appointment, uh, sir?” He drags a greasy finger down the planner, squinting at nothing and pretending to read the page that Mando can clearly see is empty.

The bounty hunter sighs, holding on to the last reserves of patience that hang precariously on the cliff of his self-restraint, threatening to let go and leave him to his own anger. “No. But she’ll see me.” You better. You better fucking see him. “I was sold equipment here a few days ago, some of it faulty. I need to speak to her.”

The navigator. The fucking navigator. Of all the bunch of overpriced, black market scraps you’d somehow convinced the Mandalorian to buy from you last time, it just had to be the navigator. He still has his old blasters. Pumps are cheap. Even the deflector shields he could’ve done without for a couple of months. But the fucking navigator. The lack of droids on the Crest means that Mando relies solely on the navigator to set coordinates. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of a system, let alone make hyperjumps. Even worse, the model is so old, its glitching isn’t recognized by the control panel, so he had to hover around the atmosphere of this damned planet for three days before figuring out what it was, throwing off his schedule and losing track of two bounties in the process. All because you sold him a damaged version of the one part he can’t do without.

But your gaping-mouthed kid worker seems too unused to visitors to really care about Mando’s request, too entertained nibbling on a bare bone and eyeing the costumer in front of him as a knowing smirk cracks his lips and he says, “I dig it.”

“You…you ‘dig it’? I don’t…”

“The whole, y’know.” He draws circles in the air with the bone, signaling the beskar armor while he wipes the sauce around his mouth with a sleeve. “The, uh, Mondolarian vibe you’ve got going on. Very retro, dude. I dig it.”  

Mondo…? Bewilderment overshadows irritation for a second, and Mando focuses all his energy into searching the kid’s vacant eyes for a sign of intelligent life. “I…I am a Mandalorian.”

Fucking stars above, it’s never easy with you. If not your endless teasing, it’s the exorbitant prices, your unwillingness to compromise, or your scurrying around so he’s forced to play cat and mouse with you. Your latest impossible challenge for him to tackle is, apparently, getting a straight answer from the obtuse employee you must have handpicked from a catalogue of idiots to torture Mando. Maker, he’s surprised your store hasn’t gone bankrupt yet. He can’t imagine anyone else in the galaxy putting up with your whims. And he only does it because…well, because…

After dedicating a couple of seconds to crafting the perfect response for what appears to be his very first client, the kid muses, “Well, shit, what do I know.” He flashes a toothy smile as he rereads the dogmas on the walls. “Says nothing about Mondolarians here, but, uh—”  

“—Look,” Mando bargains with your gatekeeper, trying to level the exasperation escaping the vocoder, “I only have one faulty part. Let me talk to the owner, and—”

“—Shit. I bet it was the microvalves.” Your staff of one hangs his tuff of hair in shame, swaying it limply from side to side, before staring straight at the visor apologetically. “My bad, dude, I’ve been trying to get them right, but I always fuck them up. It’s hard, y’know? Red with red, white with white. Why not red with white? Or—”

“—No. What? No. Listen to me. You sold me a busted—”

“—I sold you?” the kid scoffs, his eyes suddenly snapping wide and offended, ignoring Mando’s clenching fists, which usually make normal people cower. “Excuse me, mister Mondolarian sir, but I don’t, uh, don’t recall selling you shit, in fact—”

“—Not—not you personally, the store, look, just—”

“—in fact, I’ve never even met a Mondolarian before and you’ve, uh, no right—no right— to judge my microvalves that I worked hard on—”

“Let him in.” Your voice carries its usual amusement as it cuts between the Mandalorian and the kid, breaking off the bickering from both ends and drawing their attention to the melody’s source. You lean on the doorframe leading to your workshop, holding a pair of pliers in one hand and a wrench in the other. Grease is smeared on your face, where teeth bite down on a playful smirk and the twinkle in your eyes speaks of terrible intentions—like always. You tilt your head back to the room behind you. “C’mon, Mando. Let my receptionist work.”

With a sigh, the hunter moves towards the separate room, not before glancing back at the receptionist, who throws him one last disapproving look and wraps the bandeau that never stopped blasting music around his ears.

“Why do you keep him here?” the Mandalorian grunts as you push yourself off the doorframe to move inside your studio.

You shrug. “It’s him or droids.”  

Mando trails after you inside the cramped workshop, filled to the brim with piles and piles of sensors and motors and all the other scraps from dubious origins you collect, fix, and resell. He closes the door behind him and pushes a large tube hanging from the roof to the side to walk closer to you.

Facing him, you plummet on your wheeled chair with a sigh, your arms dangling off the armrests, still holding the wrench and the pliers, like you’re the monarch of your little kingdom of junk granting him an audience.

There, Mando finally gets a good look at you, and—much to his annoyance—you’re as lovely as always. Glistening and greasy, you’re still beautiful with oil stains on your skin and fat droplets of sweat trailing your temple. You beam at him from your squeaky throne with that faint grin that attracts nothing but trouble. Maker, no wonder you always manage to talk circles around him. But not this time. This time he won’t fall for your little games. He won’t, he won’t, he won’t. Tonight he’s walking out of here with all of his money, no matter how much you bat your pretty eyelashes at him.

The Mandalorian squares his stance and straightens his back in a futile attempt to intimidate you, strutting ahead firmly and pointing an accusing finger at your face.

“You sold me a—”

“—a busted navigator.”  You roll your eyes and push yourself to your legs abruptly before the hunter can get any closer. He stops dead on his tracks. You wave the wrench and the pliers in the air like the conductor of an orchestra. “I sold you a busted navigator.” The vowels are dragged out with an exaggerated tune to make fun of him. “Yeah, I heard you the first four thousand times, Mando.”

Without looking, you drop the pliers to the side. They land dead center on an open storage box. Perfectly. Almost rehearsed. Something clicks. The Mandalorian suddenly finds the missing piece of a puzzle he didn’t know needed solving, and he feels his shoulders deflate and release some of the anger that drove him to your store in the first place.

You peacock closer to him, one foot in front of the other and swaying your hips as you look down to the wrench in your hand. “But, you should know by now,” you murmur once you find yourself only inches away from the beskar, your voice morphing its earlier mock exasperation into the tone you only use whenever you two aren’t talking business. You look up at him, failing miserably at masking the mischief in your eyes. “I don’t do refunds.” You lift the wrench and grin as it taps the beskar breastplate lightly with a tink.

And before you can blink, Mando’s hand flies to your wrist to clutch it roughly, squeezing without hurting you, but with enough strength to force your fist open. Just like he knows you like it. The wrench falls to the floor with a bang that makes you jump. It’s Mando’s turn to smile when he pulls you by the wrist to press you closer against him. The cocky glint in your eyes dulls into confusion.

“I never said it was the navigator,” he informs you lowly.

You tense under his grasp and shift your jaw. “You knew I’d come back,” he continues, encouraged by your grimace. Staring at your feet, you half-heartedly try to wriggle away from his grasp, but he grabs your other wrist instead and holds you flush against the cold beskar. “Okay. I’m back. Now give me my money.”

But his satisfaction is short-lived, because if there’s anyone in the universe who knows no shame, that’s you. So you simply bite your lower lip and move your head from side to side to shake hair and embarrassment off your face. When you look up at the visor again it’s with that brazen insolence that secretly gets the Mandalorian going like nothing else in the galaxy.

“A girl gets lonely in here,” you purr. Your wrists relax, and make no attempt to pull away. “Can you blame me for wanting you back a little earlier?” Your plush lips curl into the perverse smile of someone who’s holding all the cards, making heat rush involuntarily to his crotch. And it drives him fucking insane. He could have you tied, shackled, or bent over, and you would still sneer at him like you had him wrapped around your finger.

At his silence, you wedge a leg tightly between his thighs and massage it against the bulge between. Your gasp in fake surprise when his length hardens at the first hint of a brush, too unused to any sort of physical contact to remain neutral to your bold caresses. He bites down hard on his lip to suppress a moan. He won’t give you the satisfaction.

Mando’s learnt, though, that his restraint only feeds your audacity. Only makes you taunt him more. His lack of response spurs you on, and you crane your neck forward to lick a slow line along the beskar of the chest. You blink at him playfully as you go, stuffing your tongue back into your mouth once you reach the top edge of the breastplate.

You must find it funny. How his ribs expand and contract in anticipation. How he tends to roll and unroll his fists in an attempt to suppress the instinct to throw you on top of the table so crowded by clutter that he can barely see the surface beneath and fuck the smirks off your face. How he always gives in. How he stiffens both scandalized and impossibly aroused every time you introduce him to some newer, filthier act. You must think it’s so fucking funny.

And as much as the bounty hunter wants to shove you back against your crumbling wheeled chair, he knows you’ll only enjoy it more. So he simply lets go of your wrists and steps back.

“I’m only here for my money,” he lies.

The vicious grin grows wider. “Oh, so you’re making me work for it tonight.” You step back and lean against a table with your arms crossed over your chest, purposefully pushing your tits against the cleavage. Mando shifts in his place. Licking your lips until they glisten, you give him a once-over. You study him inch by inch, and an uncomfortable rope knots in his stomach when he realizes that this is how his bounties must feel when he watches them wordlessly.

Your eyes settle on his visor, and a decision seems to cross them as you walk over to sit on your creaking chair. “Or maybe you just want to hear me beg.” You part your legs wide and clutch the armrest with one hand while the other disappears under the waist of your pants. The contour of your hand shifts up and down slowly inside the crotch of your trousers, and your lips crook into a full O as they release a deep, foul moan. “Is that it?” Your eyes are glossy and malignant, trained on his visor. “You want me to beg for your cock?”

His leather gloves ball into fists, trying to coax blood into his head and away from his…well, his other head.

Yet you hold him in place with that sinful stare and the lewd whimpers that you know get him off, and yes, fuck yes, he wants to hear you beg and sob for him all night as much as he wants to clog your throat with his shaft and make you swallow your teasing.

But he can’t let you win. You can’t scam five thousand credits out of him and expect him to throw himself into your arms no questions asked. He wants to put an end to your little tyrannical rule on his cock. And he wants his fucking money back.

So the powerful Mandalorian watches helplessly as your hand quickens under your clothing and you throw your head back in ecstasy. That fucking smirk doesn’t leave you, though. Even less so when your palm picks up some speed and you hear his breath hitch involuntarily at the visual, loud enough to override the vocoder.

“C-come on, Mando, don’t—” Your hand sinks deeper into your pants and you hum at the adjustment. “Don’t you wanna teach me what—what proper cos-costumer service looks like? Huh?”

His cock jumps in his pants when you say his name in a wanton gasp, and Mando can see you’re sweating and moving your hips faster against your palm. He’s so hard it hurts.

Your smile falters and you frown impatiently as the pent-up tension threatens to snap in your body.

“Don’t cum,” Mando blurts before he can stop himself.

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t give you what you want.”

Your movements halt on command, and the hunter almost envies the control you have over your own body to be able to backtrack on the very edge of your release. You hold your hands up in triumphant surrender as you watch the Mandalorian approach and stop just a breath away from your body. He stands tall before you, crowding you with his size and turning down the volume on the nagging voice that reminds him that he’s letting you win.

Eyes on the prize ahead of you, you lick your lips and snake a hand beneath your sit. You pull a lever and the chair plummets a few inches until your mouth is directly in front of the rigid tent growing in his pants. Expert fingers undo his belt and lower his fly, but, stars, nothing is fast enough when Mando already feels the veins of his cock growing thicker and thicker. Skipping all formalities, your hand sneaks inside, cups his balls, and pulls all of him outside. He groans when you grab his shaft and squeeze hard from base to tip, your bare palm catching awkwardly on his equally dry skin. Mando melts into the sensation all the same, but you seem displeased with your palm’s lack of fluidity.

“Fuck. Hold on.” A pair of fingers disappear into your mouth and down your throat as far as they’ll go. You choke on them dramatically and your eyes water slightly, but they shine when the two small intruders drag outside your mouth, pulling a thick string of elastic spit with them and dropping it on his shaft, pulsing with anticipation. You lean forward and look up through your lashes as you unroll your tongue slowly and more gooey saliva dangles from it. It’s too dense to spill onto its target, so you pluck the heavy ropes from your mouth and smear it manually on his cock, while a thread of it hangs on your chin.

“Fuck.” Your tiny clenched fist wakes up every nerve in his body as it drags up and down his shaft, obscene and perfectly lubricated. Mando’s hips buck into its grasp involuntarily, so suddenly that you flinch at the unexpected jolt. It’s a small comfort for him, to see that he can also surprise you. But then you’re giggling again, locking him in place by grabbing the buck of his belt with your free hand.

“Eager,” you remark. You lean forward and place a chaste kiss on the tip that digs into his spine. Maker, it was barely anything, but he’s so hard and your mouth is so close. “Aren’t Mandalorians,” you tease, “supposed to have self-restraint?”

Mando’s only answer is a low groan and a gloved hand that tangles on your hair and pushes you forward. You resist, though, instead wrapping a fist around his base and dragging your hot tongue up his underside, stopping just before the tip. A tortured whimper echoes around the helmet, and the Mandalorian is not sure if you could hear it because his muscles pull tighter, drawing his attention to his cock and your mouth and the fact that the latter is not wrapped around him for some reason. As if you could read his mind, you suddenly engulf him whole. Spit gathers on the edge of your lips as you suck on his length, swallowing around the tip and swirling your tongue around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re so—so fucking g-good at this.” You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft that make his knees buckle. He always forgets how good it feels with you. He forgets that you take him perfectly like all your holes were made for him to fuck. That you make his blood run hot with every swing of your tongue and every spasm of your cunt and every insolent remark that escapes your lovely mouth, now busy pleasuring him.

You settle on his head and suck on the bulb, hollowing your cheeks to let him feel the delicious inside of your mouth. Mando grabs handfuls of your hair with both hands, still trying to extinguish little whimpers before they leave his throat. And you can tell. He knows you can tell because determination clouds your eyes as you yank him closer by the belt. You drag your tongue in a circle around the ridge of the head, before dipping into the slit on the tip and finally earning a punched out groan and some beads of precum as a reward. Somehow, you moan and chuckle at the same time, opening your mouth as strings of spit fall to the floor.

“You’re hard, Mando,” you coo, pumping his length while you rub it on the side of your face, “throbbing and so, so hard. You should’ve come to me sooner, baby. You’re desperate.” You suck on the head again, and the Mandalorian’s grip on your hair turns to steel, pulling you into him and no longer asking. Moaning, you let him, taking him as far as you can and wrapping a fist where you can’t reach. Your other hand releases his belt and snakes down to your lap, fumbling with the waistband of your pants.

Somewhere in the swamp of sensations drowning his thoughts, an idea flashes in Mando’s head, and he holds on to it before you can suck it out of his tip. One glove lets go of your hair and quickly grans the hand lowering into your heat to resume touching yourself. His cock still in your mouth, you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a silent question.

“You can’t c-cum,” he explains, forcing words out of a throat that right now only wants to moan, “un-until you give me my—my refund.”

You groan and roll your eyes, taking your mouth off him with a pop. “Fuck no,” you breathe as you pump him faster and harder, almost making Mando lose his resolve. Almost. His hold on your wrist tightens. “It’s store policy.”

“Y-yeah?” You continue sliding your fist along his shaft, as you lean forward and lower your face to start lightly licking his balls. The room spins around Mando, and his grip on your hair pushes you into him until you suck on one ball gently. “Is—is it store p-policy to—ngh—to f-fuck your clients?”

You chuckle against his taint. Your head straightens to set your attention back on his tip, where he’s leaking an almost embarrassing amount of precum. A thumb brushes over his slit, gathering the pearls and bringing them into your mouth to taste him. The way you rub your core slightly against the chair is sneaky enough, but the Mandalorian catches the movements and tugs your hand and hair tighter as a warning. Your shoulders slump.  “I’ll give you half,” you offer.

Mando guides your hand lower and curls it around his swollen cock, silently begging for your attention. His hand wraps over yours as he squeezes your fist and drags it along his shaft at a pace of his liking that sets his insides ablaze. “Eighty.” The helmet falls back as he revels in the wet sounds of your hand sliding back and forth his cock and giving him a nice enough memory for when he inevitably goes back to the Crest and is forced to take care of his needs himself.

You let him guide you, cupping his balls with your other hand and swirling your tongue around his darkening tip. Mando’s chest trembles with a long moan at the toe-curling feeling of your warm spit and your clenched fist working so hard for him, until you drop him from your mouth and answer, “Seventy.”

“N-no, I—”

“—Seventy,” you repeat and twist your hand away from his grasp, leaving his seeping cock throbbing and abandoned, “or you don’t cum.”

Fuck, he was close. He was so fucking close, before you turned the tables. Like fucking always. A part of him cradles his already bruised pride, shaming him for—yet again—not being able to hold it together around you. But his cock tugs harder. More insistently. It pulls every fiber in his body and screams at him to give you whatever the fuck you want.

“Fine.” He nods his head once, before his better sense can convince him otherwise. “Seventy.”

A full, beautiful smile that almost makes Mando forget he’s getting scammed graces your plump lips. You waste no time shoving your hand inside your underwear again and moving your arm frantically as you give him a couple of throaty whines. You open your mouth as wide as it’ll go and blink up at him, inviting him to take you however he so pleases. He tangles his fingers on your hair and shoves you against him as you wrap your lips around his cock and muffle your mewls on it.

The Mandalorian starts fucking your face, getting his money’s worth as he moves you back and forth. Your eyes water and you gag with every shove, but you work earnestly for him, hollowing your cheeks and moving your tongue and pulling just about every trick on your toolbox to make Mando’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

And stars, even through your pants and his helmet, he can still smell your arousal. He hears the wet squelching of your fingers working your pussy fast and if he could only get a look. One look is all he needs to cum, he’s sure, one fucking look at your clenching cunt and he’s done.

“F-fuck, l-let me see,” he pants, “let—let me s-see you—see your p-pussy cum, just—fuck—just a mo-moment, please, j-just…”

Tears from all the gagging fall out of your pretty eyes as you open your mouth and stand up, taking your trembling hand outside to fumble with your trousers. Your thumbs are hooked under their waistband and push down slightly before you suddenly stop and stare at the Mandalorian gulping all the oxygen he can get and waiting for you. “Sixty,” you say carefully.

Too intoxicated with you and too focused on the blood beating hard on his cock, Mando couldn’t care less. He doesn’t give a shit about percentages or money or parts or whatever half-forgotten excuse he had to come here tonight. All that matters and all that’s real is whatever he needs to climax, and if it means letting you win, so be it. “S-sixty. Yes. Whatever. Just—just take your fucking pants off.”

One swift movement and your pants and underwear pool around your ankles. Yanking hard on the hem, you manage to pull the right leg off your boot. You don’t bother with the other one, letting it hang on your left leg as you climb back on the chair, spreading your legs and hooking one thigh over the armrest to offer him the best view possible.

Mando’s cock threatens to spill at the sight. You’re fucking soaked. Your folds are blushed and slick and swollen with all the blood accumulated on your cunt. Three fingers rub your aching clit and everything around it with messy strokes, as you stare at the bounty hunter with raw lust and moan for him loud and clear, and this. This is worth the fucking navigator.

As soon as his shaft ghost over your face you lean into it and reach for him with your mouth. Mando takes your head between his hands and resumes his previous brutal pace, his eyesight now directed at the way your cunt spasms and seeps more juices with every circle you press against your lips. And, fuck, you’re taking him like you’re hungry for his cock. Pushing harder and further and faster despite the gagging, you’re making Mando see blotches cloud his vision and feel how his muscles turn into hot, thick magma. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can’t hold it in anymore. His balls start pulling up as a warning and you’re sucking harder and mewling around him.

“I—I…I’m gonna—I—”

Mando can’t find enough words to put together for the life of him, but you nod and manage a chocked “Mhmm” and bob your head to the pace of your quickening fingers and stars oh fuck—

The wave of his climax hits him hard on his back and makes him curl around you. He braces himself against the top of your chair and the change in position makes his cock slip outside of your mouth, but his vision goes completely black and all he can feel is the rush of pleasure crushing his bones into dust. Maybe your name is falling from his lips, but he can’t be sure. The never-ending spurts of cum falling somewhere hoard most of his attention, and he focuses on that thick and heavy release, so rare for him that he puts his mind into savoring every second.

It’s not until the echoes around his ears dissipate that the Mandalorian hears you’re still whimpering. Hunched over you, he opens his eyes just in time to see you gather some of the seed that he spilled on your neck and bring it down to smear it over your bundle of nerves, rubbing it one, two, three, four times, before you’re sobbing long and loud. Your hole tightens around nothing, your forehead resting on his cuisse, and Mando thinks he could get hard again just from the image.

You both stay like that for a while, curled into each other and panting in turns, until Mando gathers all the energy left in his system to pull himself upright and shove his softening shaft back into his pants. It’s only then that he sees just how much of a mess he made: Cum landed everywhere. It hangs thick all over your face, on your neck, on your hair, on your clothes. He blushes darkly and he’s about to open his mouth to apologize, but you sense it. Somehow. You wink and brush off his shame with a smile and a wave of your hand, standing up to get dressed. But Mando’s quicker. He kneels in front of you and gently raises your underwear until it hugs your hips, wishing for a fleeting second he could press a kiss on the supple flesh there. You grab his pauldron for balance to sneak your foot into the pantleg that Mando holds open for you.

For once, it’s he who breaks the silence. “I…I do want my sixty percent, you know.”

“Of course.” You smile sweetly at him, reaching back to your work table to grab a clean rag, rubbing it against your face and neck. “I’ll even throw in some free microvalves for good measure.”

—

Taglist of two so you can keep each other company :) : @rosetophighlander​ @hellomothermoon

[obae-me]

The Demons Inside- Part 3

Part 1 (Lucifer)     Part 2 (Mammon) 

Word Count: 2185

Description: Levi’s Part of the request “The brothers reacting to an MC crying suddenly in front of them and then trying to act as if nothing happened”

Levi had been waiting for tonight. He’d been antsy about it for days, anticipating it so immensely, he was jittery. Although, it’s entirely possible his twitches and little shakes were thanks to the many energy drinks he had downed today. No matter. He needed to be fully awake and aware in the present. Today he would be spending every hour with the resident human. His Henry, MC. 

Envy had nearly driven him mad these past few weeks. MC had done nothing but spend seemingly every precious moment with one of his brothers. Everyone but him. And he knew why, it wasn’t hard to guess. Lucifer was perfect in every way. Mammon--despite his general scumminess--was fun to be around. Satan was vastly intelligent. Asmo was gorgeous and friendly. Beel was strong and supportive. Belphie was relatively calm and clever. And him? Well, he was an eccentric shut in. But despite all that, MC had made sure to hang out with him today, on a day where they both knew no one would be around to bother them. 

He jolted out of his frantic thoughts as soon as a knock could be heard from the door. Usually, he’d have his visitor answer, but he was aware of who it was, and he was so excited to get on with their activities he had no patience for his many passwords. Swinging the door open with quite a wild look in his eyes, MC appeared a bit startled. Levi, feeling embarrassment seep into his bones over his eagerness, had his face flush a bright red. Adjusting to his normal sheepish behavior let MC smile, holding up some grocery bags he could see were filled with a plethora of snacks and drinks. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” MC apologized as Levi held the door open for them to enter his room. “Not only did I buy some snacks, but I had to shoo away my chauffeur.” 

Levi shook his head, his long bangs threatening to cover his vision. His core sin threatened to burn at the thought of, again, any sibling other than himself hanging out with MC. Maybe he had wanted to go to the store to buy snacks, so why did MC not ask him? You hate the grocery store, you know that, he reprimanded himself. “No worries, it gave me time to clean my room a bit!” Levi pushed his intrusive thoughts to the back of his mind as he gestured proudly at his now immaculate room. Trash was devoid from the floor, old clothes were put in the laundry bin-- “And I even dusted off all my figures!” To prove his claim, he snatched a frilly figure off one of his many shelves, holding it out to MC as they observed it. 

They beamed at him, forcing a persistent flutter in Levi’s chest. “It looks great!” Levi noticed something lacking from their expression, like they seemed a bit drained. This urged him to take the items from them and shut his door before the human could think of leaving. Was that faded smile due to him? Had they not been looking forward to this as much as he had? Did they not want to be here? Panic made it hard for him to breathe, but he handled it as best as he could as he pulled up a second chair to his desk for the human to sit in. MC’s eyes flickered over his fancy monitors and equipment, slightly transfixed by all the pretty lights. 

“I’ve got lots of things planned, if that’s okay,” Levi told them, the confidence in his voice wavering. The last thing Levi wanted was for himself to blow this fun day with something stupid. 

They nodded to assure him, and while their smile might’ve still shown hints of something more, Levi’s panic melted away. “Of course! What’re we doing first?” 

Too giddy for words, he opened a game on his desktop, doing his best to explain the rules to MC as he handed them a controller. It was some kind of online fighting fantasy game, and while there were many like it, Levi promised that this was the best of the bunch. They both settled in, picking their characters. Without a second thought, Levi picked his; a bright colored female character with a glowing staff and too many bows on their clothes to be considered natural. 

“This is Luma, she’s my main! Who’re you choosing?” Levi squirmed in his seat, ready to get started. 

“I don’t know...there’s so many to select from...I’ll just pick someone random for now,” MC shrugged, clicking on the first character that caught their eye. Not wanting to waste any more time, Levi set up a lobby for their matches. 

Everything had gone fine...at first. Of course, MC kept dying, but Levi assured them it was their first time playing the game, and the character they had picked was set at a larger difficulty than others. The human nodded and pushed forward. The first match ended with MC getting no kills, stacking up the most deaths, and looking at Levi’s score in shame as the demon had racked up more K.O.s than any other player combined. 

MC laughed sheepishly, letting the controller settle languidly in their hands. “Guess I’m no good at this game.” 

A pang of something familiar flashed through their eyes, and Levi felt the pain. “Not true! Here, try this character, they’re ranged and a little op, so you’ll be just fine!” They started again, Levi bursting forward from the starting point, already landing a triple kill. Meanwhile, all MC got ten seconds away from base was a magical explosion to the face, killing them rather instantaneously. The further they went forward, the more MC’s shoulders slumped. The more they died, the more the fun light they had started with drained in their eyes. At one point, after MC had gotten nuked right after they respawned, their character stopped moving. Levi glanced to the side, watching as MC placed the controller away from them on his desk as they used their hands to cover tears starting to drift down their face. 

Panic flared in his chest again, his skin prickling. He practically threw his own controller away from him, turning in his fancy gaming chair as he placed his hands on their knees. “What?! What happened? What did I do? Oh no, you hate me now, right?” As they sniffled and sobbed, his lungs felt themselves shrink smaller and smaller, air struggling to get in. The match ended, and before it could automatically have them play again, he turned to the screen to leave the lobby. Fumbling with the cursor, he ended up closing the game altogether instead of trying to remember where the Leave Match button was. Swiveling back to look at the human, he blinked in confusion when their eyes were dry and their grin was fully repainted on their lips. 

“MC? But you were--” 

“--Oh, it was nothing, I had an eyelash in my eye. Want more snacks?” They interrupted him as well as quickly changing the subject. They lied to him, right to his face. Something was up, and yet they would rather do anything else than tell him. Despair overtook his thoughts as MC refused to look at him, opting instead to reach for a bag of puffy chips. 

Speaking low, the demon of envy clutched the fabric over his heart as he felt it breaking. “You can’t stand me now, is that it?” Levi brought his arm up to cover his eyes as his mind swirled in dark reasoning, coming to the wrong conclusions out of self-depreciation. “You didn’t even want to hang out with me in the first place?! You came to my room out of pity?! You’re so ashamed to be with me you had to cry?!” His demon form slid into view, his tail slinking against the cold tiles of his floor. Hot salty drops of tears streamed down his own cheeks, his fingers moving up to wrap themselves in his hair as his Envy began to spiral out of control. “Of course you’d rather be with my brothers, of course. Why would you want to hang out with someone like me when...when…” 

“When you’re a demon? When you’re a powerful ruler of hell? When you have extraordinary powers?!” Levi lowered his hands and opened his eyes at MC’s escalating volume. Their lip quivered, the bag of snacks fell from their grasp, now abandoned on the floor. “These past few weeks since I’ve been hanging out with your brothers really just drove home how...useless I am. I’ll never be as put-together as Lucifer. I’ll never be as cool as Mammon. I’ll never be as smart as Satan, as pretty as Asmo, as strong as Beel, as witty as Belphie. And I--and I thought maybe hanging out with you would make me feel better but--” Their voice cracked, resulting in the demon nearly flinching as the pain in their voice almost physically hurt him. He expected them to list the many reasons they couldn’t stand to be around him, how he had done everything wrong. Expecting the worst, he curled up in his seat. “But I can’t even play a game correctly...I can’t do anything...I just wanted to be fun like you…” 

He had seen so many shows and anime, read so many perfect fantasy romance novels, played so many dating games, he knew exactly what to do. He’d wrap them into his arms and say some gushy poetic speech that would make sparks fly and every bit of doubt in each of them flow away. And yet...all he could bring himself to say was, “H--huh??” A few lingering tear droplets let themselves drift down his face as he attempted to process the words he had just heard. They both sat in a painful silence for a moment, both blubbering messes, both ashamed to be looked at by the other. But as Levi finally comprehended what MC had told him, he began to laugh. “You were envious of me?!” Falling into a giggle fit, MC stared at him, jaw agape. “I was worried that--that you thought I wasn’t good enough for you!” 

MC briefly wondered if they had broken him. “But you’re a powerful demon!” 

“You’re an amazing human! You watched me dance in cosplay for four hours the other day!” The mental image of the situation bubbled in MC’s brain, causing their tears to transform into laughter alongside Levi. The two of them chuckled uncontrollably, drying their cheeks, thankful they were alone in the room, far from judging eyes. 

“You made a cute magical girl,” MC grinned, no malice or intent to harm behind the teasing words. “But...I still don’t see how you can possibly think I’m amazing. I have little talent, no grand prospects for my future, no powers to speak off, a plain personality, and I have the obvious penchant for crying over silly things.” 

Biting his lip, Levi slid his own chair closer to theirs, the armrests brushing side by side. “Umm...well...the--the way I see it, you have things that are almost impossible for demons to have. Compassion, empathy, an open mind, it takes a lot of effort for demons to feel those things. It’s something that is rare to find in any living being nowadays, except for maybe angels, but even then you’ve heard Luke’s opinions on demons. Angels do like to condemn. I don’t know what’s typical in the human world but you seem rather extraordinary to me.” Taking a deep breath, he gently used his thumb to wipe away the last stray tear on the human’s face. With a single finger, he rubbed absentminded circles into MC’s knee. “Anyone different would’ve taken one look at my brothers and I and ran away as fast as they could...and yet you stayed. We’ve done everything we can to push you away, and yet you never gave up on us...on me...You’re wonderful, more than I could ask for, I--” He cut himself off, cheeks burning red as he bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking. He’d almost let something embarrassing slip. Racking his brain for something else to say, he felt the tips of his ears start to burn as MC grabbed his hand and let it settle in their palm. “I don’t think,” Levi blurted, recalling and nearly quoting a line from a Ruri-Chan anime, “that worth is defined by power and popularity. I like you just the way you are, isn’t that enough?” 

MC initiated it first, almost fully sliding into his lap as they moved from their chair into his to hug him. To prevent them from falling since his seat was only made for one person, he wrapped his arms tightly around their waist.  Both of them felt the heat and warmth from one another. It made Levi want to melt and yet explode at the same time. MC pulled him close, his face pressed against their shoulder. “Thank you, Levi.” 

[anambermusicbox]

September 29 Day Countdown (27/29): 2021/01/15 Interview with iFeng Entertainment 凤凰网《非常道》

(11:20) Interviewer asks whether he’s more affected by hurtful words or kind words; Zhou Shen then goes on to talk about his relationship with his fans:

ZS: After all, I’ve now debuted for 6 years now- (*more subdued*) my skin has gotten thicker. Before, hurtful words had a very big impact on me. I’d see these words and think (*gasps*) What did I do wrong? Why do they have to say this about me? Do I have to change something? If I do this differently would they not say this about me? 

But later I realized, no (*waves his hand dismissively*) To them, the people that don’t like you, as long as you exist, they won’t like you. So before, I would be affected a lot more by hurtful words, but now its about 51% and 49%, with that 51% being the hurtful words. But I’m working on flipping the percentages. This way, I think, I’m also doing right by the people who support me.

Interviewer: I think there are actually a lot of people who like you. (*ZS bows and thanks her awkwardly*) The other day, I was online and saw your fans professing their love, fussing over you. (*ZS laughs*)

ZS: Oh that’s right, because- a few days ago, I was doing a performance and- I don’t know if this is just what this fan says to singers they like, but they said (*cups hands around mouth*) (*extremely high pitched shout*) “Rest for a bit!! You’re tiring!!! Yourself!!! Out!!!!” (*laughs*) (T/N: It was after he filmed the winter-themed Happy Camp with the Onmyoji movie cast; there’s a video of the exact moment—super hilarious, I’ll put the link in the notes.) [...] I want to tell them, I’m doing fine here, don’t worry—I can take care of myself.

Interviewer: I think the way they talk to you is quite 没大没小 (referring someone to being disrespectful and talking to someone their senior the same way they talk to their peers; Zhou Shen looks quite shocked at her choice of words) They really treat you like (ZS, interjecting: a friend) someone they can throw jokes at, a kind of idol that is very close to them. How do you view the relationship between you and your fans?

ZS: Oh, I really don’t know. To be honest, I really don’t know. [...] Even now, sometimes I think they’re quite stupid. I say this because, sometimes, even if it’s just to see me sing one or two songs, they’ll stand outside the venue waiting for four to five hours on a harsh winter day. I feel really bad for them. But it’s like, to them this is one way they feel that they can give me strength, and I can’t tell them not to, because that would hurt them even more. 

So sometimes I look at them and think, oh look at this stupid group of people, so idiotically supporting me. This kind of stupidity is really quite touching. I want to put forth my best effort to reciprocate what they do.

(14:55) Interviewer: “Do you have moments where you feel pretty rotten?”

ZS: Oh, too many. (Interviewer: Tell me about it, from the past to the present) Wow. Okay then we have to delay the program recording scheduled next (*laughs*) there’s a LOT. I mean, since my childhood, my classmates unintentionally- it was really unintentional, they didn’t have the maturity to know that their words would be hurtful. But to me, they were very hurtful. But you can’t blame them for it, because they didn’t understand anything at the time. (T/N: no you can totally blame them for it, you’re just a nice person shenshen)

And more recently, as an artist, I had my own “cold bench period.” I felt like, I was working so hard but no one was willing to listen to me sing. Not only that, I felt I didn’t have a way to be heard. Because there was a period of time when I didn’t really have any work and, wah, everyday I felt so purposeless; I was just a rain cloud, I was so discouraged (*laughs*)

Interviewer: What about now, now that you’re so busy?

ZS: If I’m tired, I’ll be happy because I’m happy that there are stages that *want* me to sing on them. [...] I worked so hard to stay in this profession because I wanted to be heard by others, and now that this day has finally come, with so many stages I can sing on, why wouldn’t I go?

(16:40) Talks about how he doesn’t mind labels, because that how someone remembers you; ZS: “I saw this one comment I really liked, this person was saying they always thought there were two Zhou Shen’s—a male one who was funny on variety shows, and a female one that sang deep emotional songs—until one day they watched a show and realized, what?? It’s one Zhou Shen???”

(18:30) Interviewer: As I’m conversing with you, I can feel very relaxed, very happy—that’s the feeling you give people. (*ZS bows and quietly thanks her*) But I know from looking at your past that your childhood was quite lonely. What makes you be able to still be so warm—that is, to go and bring others... happiness. 

ZS: I think it’s because I’m really fortunate. Because... (*looks up in thought*) I... I grew up in a very remote mountainous village, but I’m really fortunate to have so many opportunities—coming into the city, being able to learn and come in contact with all the culture I love, and later even being about to devote myself to a career I love. I feel very fortunate.

And I know that, when you feel extremely alone, if you suddenly feel something like a beam of warmth, the joy or the kind of hope that can bring—when you receive it, you’re so happy. I think, I want to do that, if there’s a possibility I could have the honour to do that for someone else. I think it’s so important.

(21:00) Talks about his parents:

ZS: Even now, my mom and dad are still wanting to- still are running their small business that they love; I think it’s very laborious. I keep telling them, you both are getting older, you should take advantage of your age and go relax, enjoy yourselves. They say, no, we want to take some burden off of you, to which I’m like eh? (*leans over and covers mouth to whisper*) Mom you’re losing money every year. *laughs* 

Especially with the pandemic, their lifestyles have had the most obvious impact. Because they’re not like the younger generation that can continue doing things online. All they’ve known is getting up early to open their storefront, staying there until it’s time to close at nightfall.

Interviewer: (21:55) Your parents, before they didn’t support you going into music. What about now?

ZS: They think it’s great now. But they worry because they feel they have no way to help me in this career. [...] They once said- I asked them something like this one day, how they want to help me now. They said they can give me their storefront. I told them, then don’t help me (*laughs*) Because I’ve used to help them watch the store all the time growing up! I used to be doing my homework at their storefront. Ever since I was little, I’ve always really disliked doing business. So I felt like, oh mom dad, no. 

I’m really lucky. Even though my mom and dad don’t have very high education—it’s really quite low to be honest—they still chose to understand me. I’m very grateful to them.

(1:45) Interviewer asks what his first job was:

ZS: After I graduated from high school, my first job was selling phones. (Interviewer: Were you standing all day?) Yup, standing. [...] (Interviewer: So you have experience in the workplace?) Well, to be honest, I didn’t converse with people much in my so-called workplace—I have a very introverted personality; I’m not too fond of or good at talking to people.

Interviewer: Would someone who doesn’t like to talk to people be able to convince people to buy phones?

ZS: That’s why I didn’t sell any. (*bends over laughing*) You really had to say it so directly. (*laughs*) Zhuang-laoshi, you’re an accurate judge of people! (*gives her two thumbs up*) (*Interviewer laughs*)

(3:30) Interviewer tries asking him a question related to emotional intelligence (”qing shang”, 情商) but gets her words mixed up and says romance instead (”qing chang”, 情场); ZS: “Well, if we’re talking about romance, that’s an area I don’t have much experience in (*gets up and pretends to leave*) (Interviewer, laughing: To be honest, that’s the thing I really want to ask about.) Zhuang-laoshi, I really don’t have any experience with romance (*laughs*)

Interviewer: Okay what I was going to ask is, do you think EQ is important in the workplace?

ZS: Super important! For one thing, every workplace involves getting along with people, and part of the way you interact with people depends on your EQ.

Interviewer: But some people say that part of EQ is a skill, a means to an end—would it come off as insincere to others?

ZS: ?? (*blinks*) Can you give me an example?

Interviewer: Like for example, if I compliment you like “oh you’re such a great person (*half-hearted clapping*)” when I don’t truly mean it.

ZS: Oh that was so insincere (*makes faces*) (*Interviewer laughs*) I’m starting to question myself (*laughs*) I don’t think that’s a problem for me though. That’s why you shouldn’t force compliments. I think it’s important to be genuine with what you say—then people won’t think you’re being fake. If people think you’re being fake, that in itself already isn’t a display of good EQ. Be sincere, but try your hardest not to hurt others.

Interviewer: I want to ask another question-

ZS: Is it about romance? (*laughs*)

Interviewer, joking: We’ll talk about romance in a moment.

ZS: no nO NO LET’S NOT DO THAT (*laughs*)

(6:10) About how Zhou Shen didn’t expect to get along so well with everyone else in “An Exciting Offer”《令人心动的offer》:

ZS: On the first episode, every time I put in my own two cents, I had to work myself up just to speak up. My heart rate was through the roof, it was like- (*takes a deep breath*) (*raises hand*) “Laoshi? (*exaggerated suppressed panic*) Can I aSK a quESTION? (*pretends to look back and forth between the others*) (*Interviewer giggles*) I think this is just like, you see, I believe in the workplace, people who are have this personality-” How was I supposed to converse like this? (*laughs*) 

So that was how I was for the first two episodes, but now in the later episodes, I got used to just casually interjecting whenever I felt like it. It was quite wonderful. The other teachers were very approachable, very friendly—it felt like, something you imagined before, but when you really are in such a group, it was like, oh this kind of goodness is something that actually exists. You feel very fortunate, very happy.

(8:50) Interviewer asks ZS if he ever lacks confidence; ZS replies that, even now, he’s not very confident:

ZS: Every time I’m on stage I get extremely extremely nervous. I’ll fear that, I won’t live up to the expectations of those who want to listen to me. But I’m slowly learning to- to get along with, to come to terms with this nervousness.

Interviewer: Then this year, you would’ve been so nervous all the time. Have you counted how many performances you had just this year?

ZS: I haven’t counted, but Shengmi, they compiled them all together and, excluding the ones that aren’t aired, there were over a hundred. Every single one of them, I’m behind the scenes like- (*makes loud deep-breathing-for-anxiety-reduction noises*) But I can’t let people see that so- (*dissolves into laughter*)

[etherealluminescence]

Shdjdjjddjjs okay but, more buff cat hcs when ?? But seriously, i know it probably counts as crack hc but i enjoyed it way to much i cant get it out of my head anymore, i havent laught so much in a while now sjdjchdj. I sure hope the buff cat saga will continue !!

You know what? I’ll give you some buff cat content now. 😤 my school work can wait. And trust me, the buff cat saga WILL continue. I just tend to work on requests first rather than my own wants haha.

I’m really happy you like buff cat! Buff cat is my life now. Constantly haunted by buff cat. Maybe one day I’ll introduce a girlfriend or friends for buff cat too 🤔

Maybe I’ll do a background about buff cat and how they met MC?? And why buff cat is so attached to MC? I don’t know. 👉👈 maybe if someone requests, otherwise I’ll just do whatever I feel like in the moment.

Anyone can also feel free to request any buff cat scenarios!! If not I’ll think of some up. THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY. I WROTE THIS LIKE 1 HOUR OR SOMETHING STRAIGHT AHA.

The boys react to buff cat teaching you

Lucifer

Lucifer had noticed your grades were improving recently, and wanted to take you out to eat for working so hard to both keep up with your class.

When he came to your room, he saw a scene that honestly shouldn’t of surprised him, but did anyways.

You were sitting at your desk, books sprawled across the entire surface area of it. On top of a book pile was buff cat, wearing a pair of glasses, and he was using a pointer to show you important parts you should remember.

He watched in awe as you two never exchanged any words, but you were scribbling down definitions and important notes, while buff cat turned the pages and reviewed your work.

He’s gotten fairly use to buff cat cooking, cleaning, intimidating others, but he has never seen buff cat act like a teacher before, it was sort of new, and he even had a teacher outfit.

He swears that he never sees you buying these outfits, or that people in the devildom actually sell muscular cat clothing.

Buff Cat is the first to break the silence, looking over at Lucifer and positioning his pointer at Lucifer’s head, and then to in front of your desk.

You were still focused on your studying, knowing that you were steadily improving. Buff Cat got out a notepad from one of your desk drawers, and wrote “Leave what you require on this note, I am instructing MC right now, and when we are done tutoring I will give this note to them.”

Lucifer ended up having to take a rain check on taking you out to eat, and learned that your cat has really advanced vocabulary.

Mammon

He was failing the majority of his classes, and ended up asking you for help. You were his best shot, and you seemed to be passing all of your classes with flying colours.

You said you were happy to help him! Except that someone else was actually helping you study. They were a very efficient teacher.

He was relieved to hear that you’d introduce your teacher to him, until he found out it was that fucking demon spawn from hell.

He screeched so hard and ran out of the room, crying like a girl. “aAAAAaaaaAAAH”

Mammon is terrified of buff cat, and now you’re telling him this cat has the intelligence of a genius? You came to the devildom like a few months ago how is this cat tutoring you and making you pass your classes with ease??

He swears your cat is trying to plot for world domination or something. Will NEVER ask you to study with him again.

Leviathan

You walked into Levi’s room trying to find buff cat. It was a Sunday, which was typically a boys night out between them, but it was getting pretty late and you need to study.

There was a test tomorrow on devildom history, and you wanted to review one more time with buff cat, as to make sure you’ll do well on it.

“Mr. Kitty, are you here?” You called out, as soon as you said that Buff Cat paused the game and ran up to you. Levi was slightly annoyed as Buff Cat was beating a hard level for him, but he is your cat above all else.

You smiled as Buff Cat greeted you, and apologised for interrupting them. You explained to Levi how you wanted to review for the test, and if it wasn’t an issue could he spare around 20 minutes?

Levi huffed and agreed and called you a normie, and was about to pick up his switch when your words finally set in.

You put down the book you were carrying and got out a pencil, and took a piece of paper out of the book. You began writing down all of the important stuff on the paper while Buff Cat watched over your shoulder.

When you were finished, he went into the book with you and showed you a couple things you’ve missed or had forgotten, and then got you to write it down three times each as to remember. He even wrote a few essay questions for you which you got.

Levi was impressed. Not only did Buff Cat seem to know the whole devildom history by heart, he knew the exact pages and lines, and even how to write.

He didn’t really care as long as Buff Cat beats the hard level for him. He just considers it to be cool.

Satan

Satan was impressed with your high grades. It must be hard for a human to suddenly learn about a whole new realm, right? So if you had Cs he would understand, but you were getting 97s and 94s.

He understood everything when he started to notice what kind of books Buff Cat had been reading in his room, recently.

You all were having a test on curses soon, and Buff Cat came by his room and began looking for books about curses, and similar ones to what you all had been learning about.

Satan ended up chuckling to himself and found it amusing. It was amazing how your cat even spent his free time coming to someone’s room, finding books for your tests, and reads them before going back to you to help you understand the content.

He likes to get coffee with Buff Cat and talk about the stuff you’re learning in classes, he never directly said it to you, but he helps Buff Cat find specific books when Buff Cat comes over.

Asmodeous

Lucifer decided to punish the house of lamentations by taking away all of their electronics after they did something stupid again. The only way to earn it back, was through getting an 80% or higher on their next test.

You and Asmo suffered because you would normally look up answer during your test, and Asmo had no social media or contact with any of his friends with benefits.

You two weren’t ashamed to beg Buff Cat for help to pass your next test. He was probably the smartest in the house. He goes to Satan’s room almost every day and purchased books when he goes out. Your cat even tutored you when you were in elementary school.

You and Asmo barely needed to convince Buff Cat, as he was ecstatic to help you again. He’d do anything to help you, and was even willing to help Asmo out as well.

Asmo thought that Buff Cat looked REALLY adorable in his teacher’s outfit. A suit, tie, glasses, and his claws were so shiny from their manicure earlier.

Buff cat even slicked his fur back to look like he gel’d his hair. He was a literal fashion icon. Asmo could do some sewing, but nothing to the degree Buff Cat did.

Buff Cat had so many outfits he made himself, and he even did them so quickly. They all turned out perfect. Oh right, this was about studying wasn’t it?

Asmo never really asked questions about why your cat could just be so smart, and more so focused on how cool your cat looked. Priorities.

Beelzebub

Beel and Buff Cat are gym buddies, so naturally they’d walk home together from the gym. Everything was fine until Buff Cat’s MC senses were tingling, and began to walk towards you, crouching down in a store trying to figure out which notebooks to buy.

Beel thought it was pretty cool Buff Cat knew where you were, like how he and Belphie were that close to each other.

Brel asked you what you were doing, and you explained that you wanted to get some new notebooks because your old one is messy and confusing. You just scribbled whatever you could down, and were having a bit of a hard time in class.

Buff Cat immediately perked up, and you two seemed to have a conversation. He meowed and you happily said “I’d love that!”

Apparently, Buff Cat had offered to tutor you. Beel wasn’t so sure how well your cat could teach, though, considering he still is a cat, and offered to help you as well, since he wouldn’t like to see you sad from overworking yourself.

He was scribbling notes alongside with you five minutes into your first session together. Buff Cat wrote such simple explanations, and even prepared notecards ahead of time, Beel forgot he was supposed to teach you.

He is pretty fine with Buff Cat teaching you both, and once again forgets that Buff Cat is a “normal”? cat and not some weird creature that knows the answer to life.

Belphegor

Is really fucking terrified of your buff cat. Like TERRIFIED. So when he sees your cat in a teacher’s outfit sitting at the dinning room table, teaching you math, he was frozen.

He came down to get a glass of milk but what is this. Do you- do you have to do it in the living room?

There is no other reaction than physical fear coursing through his body his adrenaline is at the highest and his fight or flight instincts kick in.

He’s already fought once and that caused Buff Cat to exist in constant Buff form around him, so you can bet he is running.

Probably has a group chat with Mammon and Luke. “Buff Cat Conspiracy”. They talk about how scary buff cat is.

Diavolo

Buff Cat told Diavolo he was the one who helped you study. They were having conversation (buff cat used a notebook) and the topic of your studies came up. He mentioned how he had been helping you study, and understand the terminology in the Devildom better.

He was happy to hear that you understood it, and that it wasn’t too complicated for either of you too.

He actually asks if he can watch your study sessions, to see if he needs to lighten your workload just in case you’re pushing yourself too much.

You two allow him to watch, and he’s giving soft claps and smiles as the two of you give it your best.

Is honestly very happy with how much you two get along, and how you say it’s very simple since Buff Cat explains(meows) it in a very efficient manner.

He already knew Buff Cat was smart, but haha. Maybe he should hire Buff Cat to be a teacher or support class teacher for RAD?

Barbatos

You had grown accustomed to the devildom these past few months, and with Buff Cat with you, you were allowed to freely explore it when you want.

Buff Cat also happens to have a spare key to open the castle when he wishes.

Exam/testing season was coming up, and you knew you couldn’t study at the house of lamentation.

It was very distracting, and so you decided to go to the castle. No one will be screaming there, or trying to convince you your cat is a weird entity trying to plot world domination.

Barbatos was sort of used to seeing Buff Cat come and go as he pleases, but why were you here? Before he could say anything, you told him that you were visiting to study! And that you hope he didn’t mind that Buff Cat was going to tutor you.

Alright, so you’re studying, but why at the castle? You had to explain that it was very distracting at the house of lamentations, and Mammon was trying to convince you to get rid of your cat 24/7.

Ah, he could see that. Your cat isn’t exactly normal, and Mammon does occasionally scream like a girl. I promise I love Mammon. But it’s not like he minded, so long as you two were quiet and actually studied.

He left to clean for a bit, and when he returned to the guest room he saw you wearing a headband, violently writing down and muttering definitions at an insane pace. Buff Cat was in a teacher’s outfit, and holding out flash cards.

He’s slightly taken aback, but doesn’t show it anywhere on his face. He has never seen you so serious before, and neither has he seen Buff Cat so focused on you, as well.

He’s quite proud of you two for your hard work and dedication. He doesn’t interrupt but instead pours you three cups of tea, Buff Cat thanks him, and watches over you two.

Solomon

Solomon invited you over for a study session. He may be a little shady, but he does care for you, as a fellow human.

He was ecstatic to see Buff Cat come with you, because he still wants to dissect your cat.

He was about to talk to you about letting him research you cat, but you made yourself comfortable on his bed, and Buff Cat began to put on glasses and take out a pointer.

He didn’t have anytime to talk beforehand, as you were highlighting certain areas of your book, your cat pointing to certain parts, and you patted the bed beside you for Solomon to join.

Solomon’s plans to dissect your cat are set back another day, but he takes great interest in the way he teaches. Your cat is very methodical about how to remember things, and explains(meows) it rather simply.

He swears that your cat is not a normal human cat, but why can he sense literally zero magic power from it? If only Buff Cat could teach him that.

Solomon also gets 100% on the next test by remembering everything the way Buff Cat had taught you two.

Simeon

Absolutely chaotic man, when he sees you and Buff Cat in a classroom when school was over, he approached you two, and said hello.

You greeted him, and so did Buff Cat. He asked what you were doing after school so late, and that it was dangerous for the two of you. Buff Cat not so much but could still be in danger.

You told him you were studying for the upcoming test, and that Buff Cat was helping you.

Simeon was like!!! 💖👉👈💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥺🥺 could I join?? This sounds so fun!! Buff Cat is so smart!!

He does not question the fact he’s studying with a cat, learning from a cat, or just how nice your cat can write on paper, like perfect handwriting.

He has such chaotic energy that he’s just like you, what a cute cat!

Luke

no.

just no.

he’s fine with your cat but does your cat have to be in buff form when you’re being taught?

he is happy you are getting good grades but please get him away from buff form buff cat.

[allfourthefoxes]

Things kevaaron have posted about each other before going public with their relationship

Kevin

A photo of Aaron playing with no caption.

A photo of Aaron looking bored at practice with the ‘🙄’ emoji.

A photo of Aaron at a team dinner where he stacked the creamer cups with the caption ‘he’s like a five year old’.

A video of Aaron drunkenly singing karaoke with Nicky captioned ‘this video is muted for your safety’.

A photo of Aaron on the bus looking out the window. It’s actually quite a beautiful picture. In fact Aaron had it as his pfp for a while. The caption is just ‘beautiful, isn’t it?’ People don’t know if he’s talking about the sunset or Aaron.

A photo of Aaron, passed out with his head in his textbooks. He captions it ‘making sure nobody draws a mustache on your face while you sleep’.

A photo of Aaron walking around what seems to be a mall, he’s glaring at the person behind the camera. ‘This is what I deal with every day’

A video of Aaron walking down the sidewalk. It’s a weird video, it starts abruptly with Aaron talking passionately about something. Then he sees the camera and flips it off. ‘This asshole won’t let me show you what he’s really like’

A picture of Aaron flipping the camera off with the caption ‘I’m frequently asked who my favorite teammate is. Well I can tell you it’s definitely not Aaron.’

A picture of Aaron watching some movie. It’s clear that the person who took the picture was sitting rather close to Aaron. ‘He’s pointing out all the medical mistakes and it’s hilarious’

By this point people are very suspicious about their relationship but nothing is confirmed. After Kevin graduates he posts these.

A picture of Aaron on the way to the airport. ‘Shit… I might actually miss this guy.’

On his story he talks about how he saw this blond kid at the store and he thought they were Aaron for a second.

He posts a picture of Aaron on an airplane, it’s similar to the sunset picture from before. He captions it ‘I actually do miss this guy :/‘

He posts a photo of Aaron flipping the camera off. ‘Now that he’s here I suddenly don’t miss him again’

A picture of Aaron passed out with his head in his books. ‘Some things never change’

Aaron in a stupid pair of sunglasses. ‘We tried to hard to make him buy them’

Eventually he posts a few pictures. One of two hands I intertwined, one of Kevin kissing Aaron’s cheek, one of Aaron on Kevin’s back biting Kevin’s ear. There’s also two photos that were takin in a photo booth. One of them kissing and another of them smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths. He captions it ‘really missing my guy right about now’.

Aaron

Kevin passed out in the middle of the hallway with the caption ‘I’d like to report a fire hazard.’

One of Kevin checking his hair in the mirror. ‘Busted’

A video of Kevin tripping over a curb then flipping off the camera with a ‘fuck you’. Aaron adds the caption ‘long legs end lives.’

A photo of Kevin playing with a super serous face then another of him laying on the floor looking exhausted. ‘Same guy.’

One of Kevin at team dinner looking disappointed in the person behind the camera. ‘Just found a senior citizen.’ Kevin comments ‘five year old’

Kevin at practice with his mouth open, clearly giving critiques, but Aaron writes in ‘blah blah blah’ coming out of Kevin’s mouth. ‘No caption needed.’ (Andrew really likes that post)

A post of Kevin playing. ‘All jokes aside he is a really talented player and a really passionate guy. I respect his work ethic and intelligence. No he’s not forcing me to write this.’

A photo of sleepy Kevin with thin bands of morning light making his eyes look impossibly green. ‘We just got up and this guy thinks he’s at a photo shoot’. Fans fixate on how Aaron said we just got up.

A photo of Kevin rolling his eyes at the camera. ‘One day your eyes will get stuck back there.’

A photo of Kevin in a museum. ‘He’s like a kid in a candy store.’ Only Kevin knows he means that in a good way.

At this point people are very suspicious about their relationship but nothing is confirmed. Once Kevin graduates Aaron posts these.

Kevin in the airport. ‘If I ever miss this guy remind he of how annoying he can be.’

On this story he talks about how waking up without Kevin to to wake him up is weird and feels wrong.

He posts an old photo of Kevin on the bus. ‘Now would be the time to remind me how annoying he can be.’

One of Kevin yelling about something with the caption ‘… so I lied when I said I missed him.’

One of Kevin excitedly looking around a museum. ‘The more things change, the more they stay the same.’

One of Kevin hanging upside down on some monkey bars. ‘His head is touching the ground… tall people make me sick.’

Eventually he posts the same set of pictures Kevin posted. He captions it ‘have you ever felt like you’d do anything to see someone smile? Well I miss that smile.’

[godsqeed]

( mother dearest. )

i. May 4, 2005.

‘ Hey, Kihyun! I heard your mother sleeps with other men to earn money. ’        ‘ My mother said your father left you because of that! ’

( shrill laughter )

‘ Maybe she just doesn’t want to spend time with him. ’       ‘ That’s so embarrassing! ’ ‘ Where is Alec? did he leave you, too? Are you hiding because of him?' 

In his chest, Kihyun's heartbeat rises. Adrenaline is quickly pumping through his veins, knuckles turning white from anger. Their laughter intensifies, and regret washes over him like a tidal wave. This is exactly what they had been aiming for; getting under his skin. The angrier he got, the more satisfied they’d become. He knew all of their games, wary eyes shifting from one person to the next. A physical reaction was what they were waiting for—but exactly what could he do, when he was all by himself, and they were three?

‘ I am so sorry you inherited your father’s brains, ’ The young demigod finally tells the first person, and then eyes the second one, ‘ And you, your father's looks. no wonder you’re dead ugly and all the girls run away from you. Is it true, ’ he continues, bravely facing the last person, ‘ that your father beats you up at home? ’

One, two, three. A light smirk breaks through on his face, and then he swiftly turns on his heels and starts to run. With that, so do the rest of them. ‘ Did you learn to flee from your father? ’ One stupid mistake; he stops in his tracks and clenches his teeth. Keep running, his mind tells him, they want you to fight them.

‘ Did you learn to fight from your father? How scary. ’

A fist is thrown into his direction; he swiftly ducks to the side. ‘ I do hope he’s got a better aim than you. ’ Far too cocky for his own good, that he is indeed. Fast, but not invincible ( yet ). another insult or three gets thrown at him, and he never seems to be able to keep his mouth shut. It costs him this time. The metallic taste of blood is overwhelming when it dares to slip past pink lips, but the child doesn’t do as much as flinch. He bites back any signs or sounds of pain, eyes narrowing dangerously at the small group in front of him. ‘ Just wait. ’ Their laughter fades the longer he runs, and this time, he doesn’t come back.

ii. May 6, 2005. 10.50 am.

‘ I didn’t do it. ’

Three pairs of eyes are burning into the back of his head, one pair stares right into his own: the principal. Anyone his age would have been uncomfortable in his position—but not kihyun. He has no reason to be. If anything, he can still feel the hatred sparking within, and he refuses to let the others get away with it. instead, his gaze is unwavering.

‘ He’s lying! It has to be him! ’

Feigned innocence ( practice makes perfect ); he merely shakes his head at the woman in front of him. ‘ My mother was with me the entire day, you can ask her for yourself, ma’am. ’ He can hear the whispers behind him; a stern voice telling them to quiet down. They do not listen. ‘ It can’t be a coincidence! my father thinks i put the green dye in the bottle, and now i’m grounded for a month! i didn’t do it! ’ Kihyun resists the urge to snort; it must have been a hilarious scene to witness. ‘ He called my father ugly right before it happened, it has to be him! ’ a shake of his head—he remains calm. ‘ How could I possibly even get into their house? ’

For a moment, there is silence. The next boy speaks up not much later. ‘ I didn’t gift my dad that book either! He called my father abusive, and the next day my dad got a present signed with my name! ’ Children of abusive parents; a classic. Kihyun had easily been able to purloin the book from the store, but again, his features betray no such thing. ‘ I don’t even have the money to buy these things, ma’am. ’ Sugary sweet once more. It’s hard not to smile with the protesting scholars behind him, but he manages to refrain himself regardless.

Here’s his advantage: he’s much more intelligent than most kids his age, and if he can use this in his favor, he most certainly will.

‘ Why would I ever do such a thing? ’ There is absolutely no evidence that could track back to him—it was their words against his. ‘ I would never call anyone’s father ugly, or misbehave that way. Wouldn’t it be stupid to fight three kids by myself? Why would I do that? It seems to me that they are just trying to set me up, ma'am. ’ This seems to catch the principal's attention, gaze now shifting towards the three of them. One speaks up, but the others silence him just as quickly. Tthey’re trapped. Kihyun knows it, the kids know it, they all know it. If they speak the truth, not only will they expose themselves, they also still lack any kind of evidence to point his way. If they remain quiet, even more so.

‘ You can call my mother, ’ he urges, ‘ and ask her where i was yesterday. ‘ The only times we weren’t together was when i went to the toilet. unless they want to go ahead and accuse me of having superpowers, I would have never made it. ’ He snorts this time ( his own jokes have always been hilarious, he thinks ), but the woman simply nods. ‘ I’ll contact your mother in a bit. You can go back to class now. ’

And with that, satisfaction finally creeps up on him and he finds his way back towards the classroom.

iii. May 6, 2005. 9.50 pm.

‘ You did do it, didn’t you? ’

He doesn’t even get the chance to swallow his food, his mother's piercing gaze boring straight into his eyes.  ‘ What? ’ This time, his surprise isn’t quite as convincing. It’s got less to do with his acting skills and far more with her undeniable talent of seeing right through him. She’s well aware of his powers, just as much as she knows about his mischievous nature. Unfortunately, hateful comments are no news to her, either. Perhaps that’s why she never truly gets mad at him for acting out. Guilt, for exposing him to such cruelty; pride, that he’d go as far to protect her. Pride, because even at his young age, he never once questioned anything she did, and had always been the first to stand up for her. And yet, she did not want him to get in trouble over petty situations as these. It wasn’t worth it.

‘ Kihyun, sweetheart, please ignore them next time. You know i don’t mind it if they talk about me, I still— '

‘ They didn’t talk about you. ’ Another lie she can see right through, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want her to feel guilty, when she is the only one that has always been there for him. Even as a kid, he can realise as much. ‘ You’re the prettiest mum of them all, their mothers must just be very jealous of you. ’

She parts her lips again, but this time, he doesn’t wait. ‘ I’m finished. can we watch a movie? It’s been a long time since we did. ’ The answer comes in the form of a smile and a nod. Not pushing the matter any further had seemed wisest indeed.

’ Sure, let’s watch one in a bit. ’ Another smile. ‘ I love you, Kihyun. ’ ‘ I love you too, mum. ’

And that, for one, was the most truthful thing he had said in a long time.