Part 3 of the American Diner, a collaboration project by @daer0n and me. All the stuff that we used in the previews is part of this set, so if there’s anything you want, but is not included in this part, check out part 1 & part 2.
Some of the items have slots so you can put things inside / stack them up. A few bar counter islands are “empty” so you need the glass blocks and place them inside.
Included items in this set are: Checkered Island counters (4), Glass for the island counters (2), Tray (stackable, slotted), Coffeemaker (non-functional, slotted), Coffeepot, Counters (5), Coffee can, Island Ceiling blocks (2, rounded and squared) (deco), Round barstool, Spoon, Coffeecups (3), Glasses (8), Menu cards (2), Straw Holder, Neon sign coffee, Cake slice, Soda dispenser (non-functional, slotted), Wall shelves (5), Bottles (2), Black and white ceiling block, Fridge (non-functional, slotted) and plates (3, 1 of them is stackable).
And, that’s it! It’s seems like Lance died but like…psssh, he…he’s sleeping, kay? Yah… btw LONG. POST. Translations: Ae-in (Sweetheart), Amor (Love)
Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me.
One, two, three blinks and then –
Lance’s eyes stay closed.
“No.” Keith whispers horrified, his hand aimlessly patting the glass powerless, “No, no, no, no, no. Lance, please, no.”
There’s nothing at all. There’s no flutter of eyelids or a steady breathing or even a twitch.
There’s nothing but a ghost smile in those pale half parted lips.
“L-Lance.” He chokes out weakly, barely acknowledging the tears running down his face, “Ae-in?”
Lance just sits there, body heavily pressed against the glass, right in front of Keith, mouth frozen in a permanent silent sigh and Keith snaps.
“No!” He screams, “No, no, no! Lance! I-I love –! Lance, please! Come back! Come back, please! I-I didn’t –!” Keith’s voice breaks, words still falling out of his mouth without his consent, “I love you too! Please! I didn’t get the chance to –! Don’t do this, please! I’m begging you! Lance!”
This can’t be happening. Keith thinks as his fist pounds at the glass that block his way to get to the brunet. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be –
“Please, please, please, break. Break goddamnit, please!” He shouts, standing up and activating his bayard, not hesitating a tick before he’s lashing and stabbing the glass, “Break, break. Please, please – BREAK!”
It doesn’t and Keith can only slash out at the damn glass over and over again. His vision gets blurry as more tears keep gathering in his eyes and suddenly there’s no air in his lungs and he can’t breath, he can’t hear, he can’t - he can’t –
“No!” He yells as soon as someone grabs him from behind and pulls him away, “No! Get off of me! Get off –! Lance! Lance, please! No!”
Lance’s figure just keeps getting further and further away from him. He’s basically slipping through his finger and he can’t do a damn thing.
“S-Stop.” Keith sobs out desperately, dropping his entire body in defeat against the strong hold he’s trapped in, “S-stop, p-please, I-I can’t–I didn’t tell him –!”
Faint black spots start appearing in his vision. He tips to the side exhausted as he look straight into the only blurry blue dot he can see.
“L-Lance.” He whispers brokenly, “L-Lan –”
Keith hears the sound of something shattering as he loses conscience but he’s just not sure on what exactly.
Summary: It is that time of the year when your husband disappears behind his office doors, stacks of papers piled high on his desk, and fails to return home until the wee hours of the morning-if he returns at all. As the days pass by and his side of the bed grows colder, you decide that if he is too busy to come home, you’ll just have to go to him. Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Smut, romance || Husband/CEO! Yoongi Word Count: 3,900+ Warnings: office (desk) sex, riding, oral, etc. For Prompt #2: “Shh, let’s just see how quiet you can be” which was requested by @baepsaewhalien and an anon. || This was meant to just be a drabble… → Other Drabbles
The door falls shut with a gentle clink, the noise resounding in the small office space and you blink back the nerves and excitement as Yoongi peers up at you from where he is seated behind his large, oak desk, glasses falling gradually down the bridge of his nose. He says nothing at your presence, simply cocks a brow in muted amusement and motions for you to take a seat on the leather couch that is nestled in the small corner of his work space. You follow his instructions silently, heels clicking along the tiled floor as you move over to take a spot on the plush cushions, hands coming to rest on your lap. There is a familiar itch that comes with these meetings, a pleasant buzz of eagerness that lingers just below the surface of your limbs.
Hey friends!! This fic is from a collab with the amazing and wonderful @angstymelon who is a fabulous writer and all around good person :) It’s based off the fact that there was a wall stopping Morality from hugging Thomas and the other sides during the Making Some Changes video. Anyway, it was very fun to write!! Also, it’s very angsty. Enjoy!!
Morality sunk to the floor, feeling the all too familiar cold surround him as he landed outside his door. The emotions of the last video hanging on his shoulders. So much negativity. It really wasn’t resolved by the end either… It left a sour taste in his mouth. The few times he gets to hang out and… actually hug the others? Well, he ruined by upsetting Anxiety and stressing out poor Thomas.
Patton sighed, one hand pressed against the invisible wall that surrounded him. Closing him off. He was alone again. Trapped in his little ‘bubble’ of mindscape… The conversation from mere hours ago looping in his head as he looked longingly down the dark hallway beyond, searching hopefully, desperate for someone else to appear. To look back at him, to see him, to simply try interact with him. If only that was possible.
His heart sank further. The other doors were all shut, no lights beneath them. Eerie shadows were cast against the glass that blocked Morality, isolated him from them, stopped him from having any interaction with the other sides.
The wall that separated them all. Fragmented, as they ‘should’ be, trapped in their own chunks of Thomas’s mind. The wall that split them off, kept them alone and away from one another. Left them confined to their own rooms, to singlehandedly be the characteristic they’re supposed to embody. To do all that work with zero help… zero support… zero love.
Morality knew how to fix it. He knew the one way to beat the solid inviable mess that he was currently leaning against.
The wall would only disappear if he transformed into something he wasn’t.
His chest ached at the thought. But just… to have someone’s, anyone’s arms wrapped around him. To have them embrace him. Providing a warmth that only that touch could give. A warmth that he longed for in his cold being. Patton’s heart was so frozen of late, the recent interaction only enhancing the loss that he felt. So untouched, so under loved. Touch starved. Even Thomas pushed him away when he put on his friends face to pop up beside him.
Patton let out another low breath, trying to hold back the swell of emotions slowly clouding his mind.
To have someone simply talk to him, he still longed for it! To be able to have a conversation with somebody else, in his own form, in the mind. To… to be able to hang out with somebody else. Maybe watch a movie together, sing along together. To be with somebody else.
Morality sniffed, hand falling from the ice cold wall. He slid down it. Sitting and staring at his own door that was ajar. The soft light spilling out and blinding him. Cold droplets soon followed, dripping onto his shirt as they spilt from his eyes.
He tried to hold them back. Honestly, he just wanted a hug.
And yet, he couldn’t have one. Unless he changed himself, shapeshifted. Had his limbs move and stretch to become another face… Another being. Not him. It was that, that only ever made him feel worse! Because if the only time Morality could ever interact with someone else was if he was in somebody else’s body, looked like another person, then was he truly the one getting the hugs? Was Patton really the one holding the conversations?
Theoretically, yes. In his heart however, no. The warmth from the hugs didn’t transfer when he shifted back. The joy of having a conversation faded as soon as he became himself again. The overall feeling of any love that transpired when he was not himself only served to force him deeper into a pit of sadness and loneliness.
Morality was not one to hate, but his anger and loathing of the wall that blocked all the trait’s from one another, the wall the sectioned them off into their own separate parts of the mind, was indescribable. It was the one thing that kept his upbeat personality from ever being more than that, the thing that stopped him from ever being genuinely happy. It tore him down, it made him cry, it made him feel sadder and lonelier than anything else could, it made him despair and sob, and it never went away.
Patton slid his knees up to rest his arms on them, and his head soon followed as he watched the swirling grey pattern on the floor. Watching as tears mingled with the weird surface. He could feel the sadness shift, being replaced by a deeper emotion.
He slowly began to recognise the emotion. Anger bubbling behind his eyes, growing as he stared at the ground. Forcing him to try to breath through clenched teeth. The rage was as consuming as his loss, blinding him as he further curled up against the cold surface that he so longed to be rid of. The substance of his mourning and suffering. The source of everything that kept him from what he needed, from what he longed for. The one thing that kept him from true friendship, from any interaction at all.
More tears dripped and slid down his cheeks, the aching hole in his chest seeking only to be filled by conversations, by touch, by hugs and friendship and human interaction. A hole that was unfillable. It was like a void. Sucking every inch of happy thought away, replacing it with the emptiness.
It was beginning to feel like Morality would never be happy again. He wanted to scream. But his throat was clenched as he tilted his head back, bashing it lightly on the solid behind him with a wince. The pain didn’t matter though. Why did anything matter?
He was alone after all. It hurt. Indescribably so. As if acid was in his lungs. Burning, searing, hot. There was a hole in his heart, piercing, aching, broken. Destroying him from the inside out. Morality was alone, left in that dark hallway. The negative thoughts just got worse and worse, until he was finally completely drained. Morality was empty, hollow and cold as he succumbed to the desolation, to the unendurable pain. There was no reprieve, no end to his suffering, not even when he was found in the morning by one of the others, the other traits only looking at him in silent sadness. Patton was never even sure if they truly shared his burden, if they ever felt the same pain he did.
No, the pain would never truly leave… but for now his mind was empty, limbs limp, eyes shut… For now, he was passed out against the torturous wall. Once again waiting, still hoping in vain for a fleeting interaction.