#but it takes dozens of hours to reach the finish line

[empressofmankind]

I always like this stage of painting.

The very first stage, where its just soft blocks of colour, mapping out hue balance before I start ramping shading. It looks dreamy and fragile. And often, I think about stopping right here.

Because none of this will be visible in the end, except as small highlights. Noticed only when they'd be absent.

Because after this, every other stage is a hot mess until I arrive at the final one and it suddenly comes together.

If I arrive at the final one.

[grasshoppergeography]

Hey All,

I've been away for some time, as we've been working really hard on something quite exciting:

let me present to you the world's first ever global ocean drainage basin map that shows all permanent and temporary water flows on the planet.

This is quite big news, as far as I know this has never been done before. There are hundreds of hours of work in it (with the data + manual work as well) and it's quite a relief that they are all finished now.

But what is an ocean drainage basin map, I hear most of you asking? A couple of years ago I tried to find a map that shows which ocean does each of the world's rivers end up in. I was a bit surprised to see there is no map like that, so I just decided I'll make it myself - as usual :) Well, after realizing all the technical difficulties, I wasn't so surprised any more that it didn't exist. So yeah, it was quite a challenge but I am very happy with the result.

In addition to the global map I've created a set of 43 maps for different countries, states and continents, four versions for each: maps with white and black background, and a version for both with coloured oceans (aka polygons). Here's the global map with polygons:

I know from experience that maps can be great conversation starters, and I aim to make maps that are visually striking and can effectively deliver a message. With these ocean drainage basin maps the most important part was to make them easily understandable, so after you have seen one, the others all become effortless to interpret as well. Let me know how I did, I really appreciate any and all kinds of feedback.

Here are a few more from the set, I hope you too learn something new from them. I certainly did, and I am a geographer.

The greatest surprise with Europe is that its biggest river is all grey, as the Volga flows into the Caspian sea, therefore its basin counts as endorheic.

An endorheic basin is one which never reaches the ocean, mostly because it dries out in desert areas or ends up in lakes with no outflow. The biggest endorheic basin is the Caspian’s, but the area of the Great Basin in the US is also a good example of endorheic basins.

I love how the green of the Atlantic Ocean tangles together in the middle.

No, the dividing line is not at Cape Town, unfortunately.

I know these two colours weren’t the best choice for colourblind people and I sincerely apologize for that. I’ve been planning to make colourblind-friendly versions of my maps for ages now – still not sure when I get there, but I want you to know that it’s just moved up on my todo-list. A lot further up.

Minnesota is quite crazy with all that blue, right? Some other US states that are equally mind-blowing: North Dakota, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming. You can check them all out here.

Yes, most of the Peruvian waters drain into the Atlantic Ocean. Here are the maps of Peru, if you want to take a closer look.

Asia is amazingly colourful with lots of endorheic basins in the middle areas: deserts, the Himalayas and the Caspian sea are to blame. Also note how the Indonesian islands of Java and Sumatra are divided.

I mentioned earlier that I also made white versions of all maps. Here’s Australia with its vast deserts. If you're wondering about the weird lines in the middle: that’s the Simpson desert with its famous parallel sand dunes.

North America with white background and colourful oceans looks pretty neat, I think.

Finally, I made the drainage basin maps of the individual oceans: The Atlantic, the Arctic, the Indian and the Pacific. The Arctic is my favourite one.

I really hope you like my new maps, and that they will become as popular as my river basin maps. Those have already helped dozens of environmental NGOs to illustrate their important messages all around the world. It would be nice if these maps too could find their purpose.

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

[lou-struck]

Cancellation Comfort Part 3

Obey Me! Datables (minus Luke x MC!)

Featuring: Simeon, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos

Part 1 HERE

Part 2 HERE

One of the things I hate the most in this world is when the same person repeatedly makes plans with me and then flakes on me the day of. One of my primary Love Languages is Quality time, so it really stings to get all ready and excited to go somewhere only to get a call an hour later than they said they were gonna pick me up to bail on the plans. 

This is how the Obey Me Boys would treat you after you were flaked on. 

Simeon

One of Simeon's favorite things in the Devildom is the wide variety of groceries he can find in the aisles of the various supermarkets. 

Having the evening to himself, the Angel would like nothing more than to spend the evening trying something new and delicious for dinner and getting to work on the latest novel in his series.

At first, he thought he would be content in his loneliness until he ran into you, and his heart skips a beat. Your bright smile beckons him to you, and he can't help but ask what you are up to. 

If you were free, he would gladly abandon his original plans to spend time with you.

You show him your basket and eagerly explain that you are getting some snacks for a movie night with a new friend of yours. Apparently, they have a report on human world cinema soon and wanted to pick your brain, so instead of just telling them about certain movies, you spent the afternoon selecting some of your favorites. 

Although he would want nothing more than to occupy your time for the evening, he is delighted to see you looking so excited.

Your DDD starts to ring and Simeon kindly takes your basket of groceries so you can finish through your many pockets trying to find the device. When you finally do raise the device to your ear, Simeon picks up on the static conversation. 

Your 'friend' on the other line coughs weakly through the speaker and says they are not feeling well and they just don't have the time to watch any movies with you. But they would really appreciate it if you could text them the details of the movie so they don't have to do the report. 

Ouch!

Simeon's gut tells him that this demon had been planning on flaking on you since the beginning, and his heart tells him that you are absolutely crushed by this revelation. You wish your classmate well and say kindly that you hope they feel better soon, but he can tell you are absolutely crushed. 

You look down at the basket of snacks, still sitting prettily in Simeon's hand, and reach for it, saying that you will just put them back since you won't be needing them, but the Angel moves it just beyond your reach. 

His smile is all kindness and love as he meets your gaze. "You know, Mc, I haven't had many opportunities to watch movies from the human world. Would you consider watching one with me?"

"You wouldn't mind?" you say; hope shines brilliantly in your gaze as you look at your guardian angel whose smile only grows. 

"Not at all; spending time with you is a blessing. I would be a fool to throw away something so precious. 

Solomon

When Solomon heard that you, his adorable apprentice, were going on a weekend camping trip with some classmates, he was up all hours of the night thinking of things you may need for the trip.

After carefully going over a few (dozen) maps of the area, he learned that there is quite a bothersome population of devil mosquitos that would love to bite something as precious as you, and he immediately got to work brewing you up several bug repellant potions and crafting an enchanted lantern designed to kill any pesky bloodsuckers that get close to you. 

Unfortunately for him, the sorcerer tends to lose track of time in his workshop. And by the time his tired eyes glance at the clock, he realizes that you are to leave the House of Lamination in less than a half an hour. 

He tears through his laboratory like a madman, shoving all of your gifts into his bag before running out the door. The cold morning air and his adrenaline waking him better than any cold brew he's ever chugged.

His hair is a mess, and his cape is inside out, but he made it. 

The flames of his triumph are quickly smothered when he comes across you sitting on the cold, stone steps of the House. Your camping bag at your side as you frown into your DDD. 

"MC, I'm glad I got to see you; I made you a few things for your trip to keep the mosquitoes off of you." He holds out the potions and lantern, and you regard them with interest. 

"Thank you for going out of your way, Sol, but I won't be going on the trip," you say, disappointment written all over your face. 

He looks to you for a bit more context, and you explain that your classmates decided that they didn't want a human slowing them down on the hikes and stuff like that, so you were uninvited at the last moment. 

Solomon clenches his fist tightly as he tries to understand how some demons are able to function without their brains. "I'm sorry you have been treated so poorly, MC, but if anything, they would only slow you down. Perhaps you and I could go camping together sometime instead."

"That would be nice," you humm, resting your head on his shoulder; his arm wraps around you as he raises his other hand to the sky. Green tendrils of magic dance around his fingertips. But you are too preoccupied with his embrace to notice. 

It's for the best,' he thinks to himself. After all, he knows you would not approve if you learned about the itching curse the sorcerer had just cast on your classmates' sleeping bags. 

Barbatos

The royal garden party is only weeks away, and Barbato's shopping finds himself searching antique shops for the perfect centerpiece for the dessert table. 

He steps out of another shop empty-handed, but his sour mood is quickly rectified when he sees someone walking across the street with two large shopping bags in their hands.

Although he has a job to do, he can't just walk away without at least saying hello to his dear human. 

As he approaches, he catches your eye and you give him a big smile. "Barbatos, it's good to run into you, I haven't gotten to see you at all lately."

"My apologies; I truly have not been giving you as much attention as you deserve. Once the garden party is over I promise I shall make it up to you every way I know how." He says, lowering his voice. With you so close, he sees the contents of your shopping bags full of baking ingredients.

Noticing his observant nature, you explain that you and your friend are going to bake treats together today.

As if fate wanted to toy with you in that very moment, you receive a message and whatever joy you were feeling was extinguished.

"Is something the matter?" He asks gently. In response, you showed him the text message you had just received.

They canceled on you. 

And not for any particular reason; the demon you were supposed to spend your valuable time with tells you rather bluntly that baking doesn't sound like fun, and they would rather do something that doesn't sound like a chore.

Barbatos is rightfully appalled at this rude behavior and scoffs at their narrowmindedness. You look down at your bags and frown, "I guess I'll need to return these.

His hands shake with his poorly concealed rage as he gently takes the bags from your hands. "Nonsense, it would be a shame for you to ruin your afternoon due to the actions of someone unworthy of your attention. Perhaps we can bake together?"

You eagerly accept his offer, but shyness and concern lace your voice as you ask him if he really has time to stop what he is doing.

He just smiles and tells you that there is nothing in this moment that requires more attention than you. In the back of his mind, however, he wonders if the demon who cancels on you needs a reminder that there are things way worse than baking. Perhaps they will miraculously get assigned cleaning duty in the RAD sewers for the next event.

Diavolo

He heard through Lucifer that you were really excited to go with friends to a new exhibit at the devildom historical society, and The Prince was absolutely over the moon.

This is exactly what he envisioned when he thought up the exchange program. Humans and demons get along and learn about the past together to create a stronger future.

In his excitement, he worked through his mountain of paperwork so he could slip away and observe the interaction from afar using the best disguise at his disposal.

Just as he was about to climb down the rose trellis, Diavolo receives a message from Lucifer that has his fake mustache falling to the ground in shock. 

Your new friends had just canceled on you, and the Avatar of Pride suspects that it may not have been on the kindest terms.

Rightfully, Diavolo is furious on your behalf. Although he is unfamiliar with the concept of getting canceled on personally he understands that it is a slight.

The idea of you, his beloved human, being treated so horribly causes his blood to boil, and he feels his horns emerging from his head.

His first instinct was to have the insulting demons imprisoned for their behavior, but Barbatos politely reminded him that he cannot simply arrest everyone who commits a social slight, so his mind went to the next, much better option.

He must comfort you,

No one can stop him as he poofs off to the HOL to find you sprawled across your bed, listening to sad music in the dark. His heart breaks at the sight of you looking so down, and he gets to his knees, ready to apologize on behalf of the devildom for your mistreatment. 

Once you get over the fact he just magically appeared in your room, you assure him that you are fine and you wouldn't hold the cancellation against anyone, but you may not want to see those demons for a while. 

Relief hits the royal like a ton of bricks, but he still wants to cheer you up. Especially since you and him have uninterrupted time to spend together. Even since you came into his life, the Prince has been researching as much as he can about humans, and he knows exactly what to do when they are feeling sad.

"Oh my, Mc, I seem to have developed a craving for something sweet. Would you care to join me for ice cream?" He is a terrible liar, but seeing him try to cheer you up makes your heart feel full as you lightly laugh and join him for an impromptu ice cream date.

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network

[mythrilthread]

My magnum opus, the jewel of my Binderary round-up, the result of four months of hard work (that is to say, a lot of force applied over distance), the project affectionately known as The Motherfuckers (because it was rather unclear if I was going to finish these books or if they were going to be the end of me).

Force over Distance by cleanwhiteroom. It is currently also on AO3.

I was first introduced to this incredible story by a dear friend, who first sold me on actually watching SGU, and then said that they remember this fic since like 2011, which is always a promising sign. I went digging and found out I was in luck - the story was being rewritten and reuploaded on the author's blog. The next two weeks are described by the same friend as "one of the scariest moments in our cohabitation" as I'd spent literally every waking moment injecting the story directly into my eyeballs, and let me tell you, I'd not been doing a lot of sleeping at that time.

Then I gathered up my courage and reached out to CWR re: my burning desire to bind this story. And the rest, well. Let's dig into it, shall we?

This was my first time typesetting 540k words. Considering I tend to prefer larger font sizes for increased legibility, it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a multivolume project. I settled on three, as it's the relationship between three individuals that forms the core of the story.

I also knew I wanted to keep the typeset in black and white, but play around with light and dark a lot. So I did. One of the first design idea I actually had was the way I wanted to handle projected speech. Mental link between Young, Rush and Destiny is THE most vital part of the story, and I wanted to make it immediatly obvious. I also wanted to be able to take one glance at the page and tell how much of the action is actually just two guys staring each other down :) Hence the blackout effect of thoughts being represented as light over darkness.

I also wanted to preserve as much of my reading experience as possible. So I saved all the chapter quotes/summaries in the TOC, and hid the chapter content warnings in the frame of the gate that marks the beginning of each chapter. For most of the chapter the warnings stay the same, so after a while you stop really noticing them, but then you open a new chapter and see that the familiar shape of the words has changed, and get this UH-OH feeling. Which, I think is very much how it works in my design, because when the warnings change there's usually another line of text added.

For flashbacks and dream sequences I switched from italics to a lighter shade of gray. I woudn't say it's more legible per say, but it's in keeping with the overall light/dark theme.

There are instances of people using handwritten notes in the story. I collected more than a dozen of assorted handwriting fonts, with each character having their own "handwriting". So when, for example, someone begins writing in someone else's hand, you immediately know it.

The most insane, labor-intensive part of the typeset, however, was the way I decided to handle the Ancient translations. CWR's gone through the trouble of setting up hover-to-discover for it, which gives you a very different reading experience than, say, having the translations in the endnotes. So, naturally, I said to myself that I want to replicate that, and footnotes just won't do the trick. So. Every instance of Ancient in the text has an underlay of light gray Ancient script. And an OVERLAY of paper vellum with the translation printed in blue. Now, not to toot my own horn too much, but if looks SICK AS FUCK. You also MAYBE SHOULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. For the two copies of this work I had to cut up 10 sheets of vellum into strips, and then spent from 20 minutes to an hour per volume tipping the strips in their proper places. I then had to wear kinetic tape on both my hands to help with the joint pain. (It was worth it.)

Now for the title spread. It is also paper vellum that you see as soon as you turn the first page (the half-title), and see it covering the title of the book and author's name. And then you turn it. And the shields sing the matter wave of Destiny through the black. And yeah, I think that's very, very clever of me, actually.

Then, of course, were the endpapers. All 12 of them are unique abstract paintings done on black cardstock by hand with brush pens and correction tape, I scanned a sample of each set for posterity. All of them are my interpretations of characters' midscapes. For volume 1 I went with the fire wind of Rush's thoughts. Volume 2 was for Young, and I went for the reverse blackout poetry effect (because for all the mental talking they do, the unprojected thoughts are opaque to their counterparts) and all the loops, hairpins and blocks he does. Volume 3 is for the combination - Rush's fire wind, changing its color to match the circuitry pattern of Destiny's AI.

The rest, in comparison, is easy. All volumes are stitched with 3 strands of embroidery floss, a combination of black, blue and silvery-gray. The French double-core endbands are sewn in the same color scheme (though with a different shade of blue and gray switched for white for added contrast). The edges are painted and splattered to look like space.

The covers feature my (signature at this point, I guess) half-cloth river pattern, with the base being dark blue linen and the printed parts being Spitzer telescope images of the W51 star forge, Jack-O'-Lantern Nebula and the Eagle Nebula (courtesy of NASA), waxed by hand for added sheen. The spines are foiled in silver with a foil quill.

Each set is 5 pound of solid hand-crafted book, with one set being my personal copy, and the other sent as a gift to the author.

And that's it, folks! This has been an incredible project to work on, and I'm very proud of what I achieved with it.

[slayingfiction]

How I push through writing when I don't feel like writing.

Here are some of the techniques that I use to help me write more often or more consistantly when my laziness/depression/anxiety starts to take over.

I watch TV. I don't do it with the purpose of zoning out though. I watch something popular and well-liked such as the LOR or Harry Potter to get new ideas on how I can develop my story and apply their in-depth world-building ideas to help develop mine. Without plagarizing of course!!!!

Zoning out and daydreaming. As I have mentionned before, daydreaming is a huge part of my story outlining and world-building process. I'll stand in the shower, or take a walk and think about how my charcaters would act/react/behave in situations, mundane or not. Doing this gives me a better sense of my characters, and sometimes gives me ideas for scenes I use later on.

Work on writing related projects. These work well at keeping me distracted while still being productive on my writing goals. Example, I have one story I am working now, I made a new language (alphabet and numbers included) to include as a cool and fun component for the book. So, at times when I don't wan't to write, I continue creating the dictionary (very fun, 8/10 would recommend). Also, for the same book, my characters don't work off the Georigian calendar and 24 hour clock, so I've been working at creating a new calendar (harder than it seems, 2.5/10 dont recommend). These are side projects that help my story, without having to write.

Reading. You saw this one coming, I know. Reading is great, especially when you're editing, your writing style will unconsciously change to be more similar the author you were just reading. Also, most importantly, I'll be reading and think, "this story is really good, but you know what story I like even better? Mine." then change to writing.

This one is my biggest life saver!! I learnt about a year ago that sometimes I'll get bored of writing a story, and have difficulty keeping on track. That's why I finished my first book in 2016 and just started editing the first draft last week. The solution for me was to work on multiple projects at once, because it was much harder to be bored of multiple stories. I stick to 2, but will sometimes add a third. This is easy for me, because I have a list of over a dozen series I want to write. Don't abandon one project for another, use them as a distraction/ motivation for each other, so you're always furthering at least one project. I've never heard someone say, "oh no, i accidentally worked on this other writing project for three months instead of the other writing project I was doing. Dammit." No, we're just happy we have written something. Be sure to have well outlined story lines before starting, don't just start writing randomly or you'll reach a point where you don't know where to go from there.

Author/ writer projects. Maybe this is building a following, or community to share your projects and engage with. Tumblr, Insta, Reddit, whatever it is. My hope this year is to start up my website to offer publishing services (editing, graphic design, short writing courses) and build a following as a writer. (See what I did there? Never a bad time to self-promote ;) ) Having your own projects like this will help you in the future when you're going to try to publish and sell your books!

Talk with friends and a writing community. Never underestimate the passion that will burn inside you when talking about your story, or when others are talking about theirs. Surrounding yourself with a positive writing community can be the best thing for you as a writer.

Write or read (your story) every day. I'm not going to be one of those people that say you need to write 1000 words a day, that's a lot. But maybe try for 100? That could maybe only take 5 minutes, and at the end of the year that's still over 36 thousand words of a novel. Or just read your story, and I've always found it helped me get in the creative mood.

Make a playlist of songs that remind you of your characters, your story, or just puts you in the mood to write. Then play it ONLY when you're having trouble writing. Playing it while writing will not help, you'll get annoyed with the songs.

Just really can't do it today? That's okay, take a break. You deserve it. There's always tomorrow.

Does anyone else have ways they push themselves to keep writing? Let us know in the comments!

Happy Writing!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello hope ur having an amazing day/afternoon/night

So for the "if you weren't alone" how about the Hunting dogs with a GN reader? Take your time and make sure to take care of yourself

If you were not alone

Part III

Characters: Self-Aware! Hunting Dogs

Reader: Adult! GN! Reader

Warning: English is my second language

_______

🐕‍🦺You were tried. Today, you and Hunting Dogs were having one of your traditional camping trips. Thanks to Teruko's and Fukuchi's training, you have become tougher. Still, you were tried and were thankful, when you finally set up a camp.

After dinner, you go to your tents and fall asleep

You were the last one to woke up. A familiar redhead looked inside the tent. Tachihara looked worried.

"[Y/N], you are awake, good... Listen... My dear Hyacinth... You probably should take a look at that..."

You climbed out of the tent and looked around. Your gaze immediately stopped on the familiar Statue of the Seven, standing on an island in the middle of the lake.

You were in Starfell Valley, on a Cider Lake shore.

The rest of the Hunting Dogs were not only up, but already were in their uniforms. A fire was burning and aromas of porridge and tea were coming from a pot and kettle, that were put above the fire.

"[Y/N], does this place look familiar to you?" Teruko passed a bowl with porridge and a cup full of hot tea to you.

You braced yourself. Explanation will take time.

🐕‍🦺 You tried your best to answer questions about Teyvat. About nations and elements. You answered questions about the game. That nothing strange was happening in your game. No insane luck, no new voice lines, no new menus, no new characters (that weren't announced), no reaction to you talking or petting the screen, no strange emails, no gifts. Genshin Impact looked like absolutely normal game.

After the breakfast was done, Hunting Dogs got the most basic information about Teyvat and were as confused as you were about Teyvat being real.

But you can't get answers just staying in one place. After you collect your belongings (with tent, sleeping bags), Hunting Dogs and you start walking. To Mondstadt.

Just to make sure, that you stayed safe, Fukuchi asked you to walk in the middle of the group, while he was walking before you, Tachihara and Teruko were walking on the sides and Jouno and Tetchou were walking behind you.

Your journey has begun.

🐕‍🦺 Mondstadt greet your group with yelling, Knights of Favonius with their weapons out and a mob who wanted blood.

"HERETIC! IMPOSTER WITH A HERD OF SINFUL CULTISTS!" You didn't know, that Kaeya could yell. Or even use 'heretic' negatively. You could see, how Hunting Dogs slowly drew their swords. In a last attempt to explain yourself and try to resolve the conflict, you carefully put your hand on Fukuchi's arm and stepped before him. Dozens of angry eyes stared at you. You cleared your throat.

"I am not an imposter. My friends aren't cultists! We got lost and just wanted to find a way home... AAA!"

"SILENCE YOUR LIES, CREATURE!"

A small stone hit you on a forehead. The hit was painful, but, thankfully, not strong enough to cause serious damage.

But was strong enough to cause damage to the person, who threw the stone.

🐕‍🦺 You left Mondstadt. With Klee as your guide, you were going to the Dragonspine to find Albedo. And Mondstadt was left with beaten up knights, scared civilians and a new baby, who just an hour ago were an adult, who liked threw stones.

Still, no one in Mondstadt realized, that you weren't an imposter. In their eyes, you became an Imposter with a horde of demons under your command.

After you left, Jean reached to Fatui delegation. Maybe, Harbingers could help to capture you.

Meanwhile, you and Hunting Dogs, together with Albedo, finished planning your next move. You would move from nation to nation, searching for Alice. Albedo promise to keep in touch with her, asking her to either stay as long as she can in one nation, or go to you, if you find a safe place somewhere in Teyvat.

Time to move forward.

🐕‍🦺 After Zhongli's and his adeptis attack on you and Hunting Dogs, you decided to stay away from the city.

Still, the situation wasn't as bad as it can be. You had quite a good number of helpers (you, Jouno and Fukuchi had to make sure, that Tetchou won't try to cook for Xiangling as a 'thank you for help'. You didn't want to get on kind girl's bad side), and, while being accused and hunted was terrible, you had your friends with you.

Right before you decided to move to the next nation, your camp was attacked.

By Fatui.

And by Tartaglia, Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

⚔️ While Teruko and others were protecting you from Fatui solders, Fukuchi was fighting Childe. Fukuchi has to admit, that Childe was a dangerous enemy and a skillful warrior. Fukuchi knew, that he shouldn't underestimate him. And Fukuchi won't underestimate himself either.

Especially, after Childe transformed into a Foul Legacy.

Childe tried to focus on a battle and ignored that tiny quiet voice, that begged him to stop attacking and believe "Impostor's" words. He must destroy the old man and the rest of your horde and capture you.

Childe raised an eyebrow, when the old man picked up a small stone from the ground. Was he desperate enough to start throwing junk? The old man threw the stone. And hot, white pain filled Childe's senses. His left shoulder, where the stone hit him, was burning with pain. The bone shattered, skin was broken. Transformation was cancelled.

Childe, in his human form, was laying on the ground, howling with pain. Behind Fukuchi, the remaining Fatui soldiers finally surrender. They collect their fellow soldiers and Tartaglia and left you alone.

You hopped, that you won't run in other Harbingers.

🐕‍🦺News about Childe's defeat spread through Teyvat. And almost everyone were terrified of your group. Now, instead of 'Sinner' and 'Heretic' you were greeted with 'Begone, Monsters' and 'By the power of Holy Creator, return to the depth of The Abyss you have crawled from!'.

People were now afraid, but, thankfully, Nahida was helping your group. Staying with Aranaras was fun. For some reason, they start adoring Jouno and Fukuchi, and it became a current occurrence, when they were sitting on the ground, discussing something, and Aranaras were climbing all over them.

Unfortunately, harbingers didn't give up yet.

You didn't know about most of the attempts.

You didn't know about Fukuchi fighting with Pierro and winning.

You didn't know about a bird-like mask in Jouno's bag. About Dottore, who was unfortunate enough to ran into Jouno and Arabalika and demand Hunting Dog to give aranara and you to him.

You didn't know about Arlecchino's and Teruko's quarrel that ended in child Arlecchino on a doorstep of House of the Hearth.

You didn't know about Tachihara destroying Sandrone's robot, when she was searching for you.

You didn't know about Tetchou's fight with Capitano. The moment Tetchou got his grip on Capitano's claymore, he got an advantage over the strongest warrior in Teyvat. Because "controlling a blade that was making loops and barrels" wasn't one of Capitano's abilities. Tetchou was victorious.

But four Harbingers still remain. And Cryo Archon was still here.

🐕‍🦺 When you got a letter from Albedo (through Alhaitham) about Alice whereabouts, and Nahida, thanks to her powers, confirmed it, Hunting Dogs and you left Sumeru and start your trip to Snezhnaya through Fontaine's port.

🐕‍🦺 Unfortunately, the delegation was waiting for you in Fontaine. Tsaritsa, healed Childe, Columbina and Pantalone with Fatui troops were waiting for you.

The battle has begun.

Hunting Dogs tried to keep you away from battle. You followed their plan, until you noticed Pantalone, who was aiming a musket at Tetchou, while he was facing another direction.

You acted fast.

You and Pantalone, both gripping one musket, as a small tornado rushed through the battle. Each of you were trying to get the musket solely to yourself. Your fight were good enough destruction, Fatui's troops were jumping away, trying not to get in your and Pantalone's way.

You growl. You hated being in Teyvat. You hated being afraid for Hunting Dogs life. You missed others. You were tired of Fatui's ambush.

You wanted to go home.

The portal opened under your feet.

______

🪢🦀🐁 It's been almost a month since you and Hunting Dogs have disappeared. Everyone was looking for you. While Hunting Dogs would never let anything bad happening to you, there is a chance, that you were separated. And the fact, that there were no trails left, made everyone worried. Fyodor and Dazai weren't sleeping. They were discussing, what to do next. And thinking about the ways to make Katai and Higuichi stop to share their "theories" about your disappearance. Because, if Fyodor heard another "[Y/N] and Hunting Dogs get secretly married and then run away from home to who knows where" from Katai, he will do something drastic to Katai. Same story was with Dazai and Higuichi's "They built a bunker under the forest and hid there from aliens, I know for sure!".

Suddenly, they have heard the loud crash coming from the barn.

🐕‍🦺 Sounds were loud enough to wake everyone up. When everyone got to the barn, they saw a bizarre situation.

You were trying to take away a strange gun from a rich-looking guy, while Hunting Dogs tried to get you away from each other.

🐕‍🦺 Pantalone, startled by the appearance of other people, lose his grip. You immediately pull the musket from his grip and hit Pantalone on the head with the butt of a musket. Pantalone, unconscious, fall on the ground. Only then you realized, that you were back.

🐕‍🦺 It would take time to explain everything to others. One thing for sure. You were very grateful, that you and Hunting Dogs were together. You had a feeling, that the Teyvat journey would be much worse, if you were alone.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

[caraetdeul]

If It's All In My Head, Tell Me Now

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

The third time you forgave him.

TW: angst, angst, angst!!! Hurt/no comfort, somehow toxic relationship

A/n: third part is finally here! Hopefully I can finish this whole series before Scoups' birthday next week cuz I don't really want to celebrate it with this fic hurting my heart 😭 fair warning, this wasn't proofread in any way. it was just me and Grammarly against the world so I'm sorry if there's any discrepancies or mistakes throughout the story. Anyway, if you want to be tagged in the last part, feel free to tell me! Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

Btw, it can be read as gn!reader but there are descriptions of feminine clothes and things.

~Main Masterlist~ | ~Series Masterlist~

If you could sum up the last few days ever since you had that dinner date, it would be somber.

You never thought your relationship with Seungcheol would ever reach this point. In fact, you never even thought there was any chance of your relationship actually coming to a point like this. If someone were to come up to you a year ago and tell you that all of these would happen to you, you would’ve laughed in front of their faces and carried on with your life. That’s how much you trust the foundations this whole thing was built on. But now, seeing the cracks forming on the walls of your desolate home, you doubt if the both of you were ever on the same side of the fence in the first place.

Sipping on your coffee, you sat quietly in one corner of the cafe you stumbled upon on one Monday afternoon. You honestly had no idea how you ended up here as you lived on the other side of the town. But you really only have your wandering thoughts to blame when you decide to take a stroll to take your mind off of things. In which you clearly failed to do so based on your current predicament.

You don’t know how much time has passed since you first sat down. But based on how the lights from the restaurant across the street were significantly brighter than the dark skies and the fact that you started strolling when the sun was still shining down on you, it was safe to say that you’d been there for hours now.

Putting down your mug, your eyes wander to your phone on the table which has been left unattended ever since you sat down. You slowly reach out for it, trying your best to suppress the hope of seeing a specific notification pop up on your phone. But even then, you couldn’t help but feel the disappointment settle deep in your bones when you were faced with a dozen notifications, and not a single one was from him.

You sighed dejectedly, turning it off and putting it back on the table face down. Checking the time on your watch, you realize you haven’t eaten anything properly since breakfast. Thankfully, the cafe you were in also offers whole meals on their menu.

You then stood up from your table—thanking the heavens that the cafe wasn’t bustling at the time or else your table would’ve been stolen the moment you left it—and stepped in line with other paying customers. It wasn’t long before you reached the front of the line and finally got back to your seat with a receipt for your purchase.

As you waited for your order, you went back to staring out the window, ignoring the distinct ping of new text messages going through your phone. You continued nursing your almost emptied-out mug as you watched droplets of rainwater racing each other down the window.

You were in a limbo.

The grey area between life and death.

No up or down. No left or right. You can only move forward at this point but how do you expect someone to do that when you can’t even see ten feet in front of you. How can someone move forward when the comfort of the life behind you latches on to you with the promise of a life you’ve been praying for for as long as you can remember? 

But with the struggle of a drowning body, you gasp for air at the realization that maybe you were the only one grasping for any semblance of the previous life you once had with him. Maybe you were the only one in this relationship that has no clue of its inevitable demise while he was already safe and sound in a bunker house somewhere you don’t know. Maybe, hoping it’s a maybe, you were the only one in the dark as you tried to resuscitate the dying embodiment of your relationship when he had already signed the dotted line on a DNR order.

While your shaking hands and watery eyes were fighting with the urge to fall apart in the middle of an unsuspecting cafe, you could hear Seungcheol’s unburdened laugh echoing into your ears. You were then slammed with the thought that maybe you were losing it with the amount of caffeine you consumed throughout your stay. You were about to slap your face into reality when you heard his laugh again. This time, it was clear enough that you realized it actually came from outside the cafe and not from your muddled mind.

With wide eyes, you searched for him through the window. It didn’t take you too long before your gaze reached Seungcheol’s distinct figure across the street, internally grateful for the rain that minimized the number of people walking around at the time.

In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to be actually here right in front of you. By all means, you were pretty far from your home, and as far as you know, this was even farther from his place of work. But here he was, laughing with some of his friends in front of the restaurant.

Probably his coworkers, you thought, recognizing some of the faces that he was with. There were 4 of them entering the restaurant including Seungcheol and by the looks of it, they were probably celebrating something with the way they were patting each other’s backs with smiles plastered on each of their faces.

As if on cue, your order arrived just on time as your phone rang, your brother’s contact flashing through your screen. You thanked the waiter before answering the phone once she was out of range.

“Hey,” you answered, connecting your Bluetooth earpiece so you can continue the call while eating, “What’s up?”

“Did you hear about the news?”

Confused, you put your utensils down before replying, “What news?”

“Your little boyfriend just got promoted.”

Your eyes widened as shock and pride coursed through you. So that’s what that whole thing was about, you thought looking back to their group who were currently seated at the restaurant where you conveniently have a direct line of sight from your place at the cafe.

You focused back on the call, your lips curling into a smile as you replied, “Oh my God, that’s great news!”

“Yeah, I know!” he exclaimed, “The whole thing was honestly in the works for quite a while now and everyone’s just basically waiting on the announcement. So it was really only a matter of time before Cheol got promoted and now, it’s official!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. Your brother has been a big fan of Seungcheol ever since he started working alongside him. In fact, his random stories about him as you both nursed some wine after a long day were what made you interested in Seungcheol in the first place. So the night you invited Seungcheol to a dinner with the family as your new boyfriend, it was safe to say that your brother was probably the biggest fan of your relationship. So much so that you weren’t even that surprised when his usual “my little sister’s new boyfriend should be scared of me” talk was still filled with compliments towards his so-called idol. And as you listen to him rant about how much Seungcheol deserved this promotion from the other line, there is no doubt he is still his biggest fan.

“By the way, I’m about to meet up with him along with some of our coworkers to celebrate,” he shared, “You should come with us! I’ll text you the address.”

Swallowing the last of your food, you answered, “Oh, sure!” You heard your phone ding with the new message from your brother, sharing with you the location of the restaurant which was unsurprisingly the one across the street.

“Should I pick you up on the way? I’m already down at the parking lot,” he suggested.

“Oh, no need. I’ll just meet you up there,” you replied, hearing the sound of his car door closing through the phone call.

“Okay then, see you there. Love you!”

“Love you too!” you responded before hanging up. You finish up your meal as fast as you can, buzzing with excitement from the news. Scrolling through your contacts, you pressed call on Seungcheol’s contact. As the phone rang, you watched through the window as you waited for him to answer your call. You wait with bated breath as he finally looks down on his phone. From your point of view, you can barely see your photo flash through his screen when he silently presses the red button before going back to the conversation he was previously in.

Scrunching your eyebrows, you flinched away from your phone as you heard the automated response enter your ear from where it was placed before. You don’t know what to make of that. You swallowed down the undesired thoughts that you were struggling with just a while ago which were currently resurfacing. You decided then to finally stand up from your seat with your bag on your shoulder, crossing the threshold towards the cafe’s doors.

Stepping out under the night sky, it then dawned on you that you currently didn’t have an umbrella on you and the rain was pouring down harder than it was an hour ago. You looked around for anything that you could temporarily use as a cover but all you could see were the sign stand indicating today’s specials in the cafe and a trash bin near a lamppost. You debated whether or not you could borrow the sign for just a moment but decided against it. It was a really cute sign with flowers and manually drawn drinks all over it that you didn’t have the heart to ruin with rainwater and frankly, you weren’t in the mood to try and outrun any of their employees once they saw what was happening.

Taking a deep breath, you put your bag over your head before making a run for it. You almost slipped twice as you ran and you probably look like a mess now with your drenched clothes and your hair sticking to your body but you were just thankful that there weren’t cars speeding down the road at the moment. You then successfully managed to cross the street safely, puffing as you took cover under the restaurant’s canopy.

Making sure you were still decent-looking enough even though you could already feel the cold of the rain seep through your clothes, you were about to step into the restaurant when you were stopped by the scenario in front of you. Blinking, you stood idly as you watched the group before you. Between the time that you finished your meal and got out of the cafe, their group got bigger with more people joining them. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue for you as you’ve already met some of them before whenever you accompany Seungcheol at a company event, but right now, you were having a hard time accepting what was happening right in front of you.

You knew deep down that you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions because either way, you knew there wasn’t any desirable outcome from doing so. But seeing the way a woman was snuggled onto Seungcheol’s side and him not doing anything about it was certainly not helping your raging thoughts.

You immediately hid yourself on the side of the door, a panel of wall separating the huge window from the glass door. Glancing back inside, you bit your lip despondent at the sight of the woman laughing wholeheartedly at something Seungcheol had said, her hand reaching up toward his hair and sweeping the front strands away from his face. As if that wasn’t enough to destroy your heart, you watched with a shaky breath as Seungcheol faced her, the most dazzling smile gifted from him to her. The very smile you thought was only reserved for you.

Shock and betrayal were written all over your face as you slowly stepped away from the wall. The sight in front of you feels like a sticker on your favorite book with how hard it was to take your eyes away from it. You gripped your bag tighter, white knuckles showing as you felt the heavy downpour finally meet with your body once again. It was hard but you were finally able to feel your legs, enough to have the energy to walk away from it all.

You felt your lips quiver and your eyes blur with pain and heartache, the cold from the rain deciding to have a duel with the cold from your chest that was rushing through every part of your body. Fighting with their every breath to take the place of being the harshest thing to happen to you tonight.

But even then, both lost the minute your phone pinged once again with a new notification. It was a group picture showing Seungcheol in the upper right corner with his arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulder as everyone smiled, their happiness seemingly doing their absolute best to wrench the life out of you. You didn’t have any fight in you left to react to the picture. You can only shut your phone off and traverse your way back home with a heavy heart and ruined makeup.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela

[kinardsevan]

Evan grumbled underneath his breath as they walked down the frozen vegetables aisle, grabbing supplies as he did.

“Babe, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy chuckled, rubbing a hand over his eyes. The last thing either of them wanted to be doing right now after coming off shift was shopping, but the fridge was completely empty, and the cupboards were sorely lacking too after their schedules not lining up for the past two weeks. Still, they were on a long turnaround now and had a few days together.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Evan replied, a bit snarky. He turned on his heel to look at Tommy. “This is three now. Three weddings cancelled where I lose out on the reception.”

Tommy smiled at him. He knew Evan was being ridiculous. Evan knew Evan was being ridiculous. Still, there was an unspoken knowledge between them that sometimes Evan really relished in the open PDA with Tommy around their friends. It made him feel seen, and loved.

And for the third time, it wasn’t going to happen.

Granted, Maddie and Chim couldn’t help that their reception ended up being in the hospital. And then one of Evans friends from the training academy had invited him to their wedding, only to decide to postpone their wedding and then elope. And now Eddie and his fiancé had just decided to do something small in their back yard, no major celebration. He wanted something calm with just him, his fiancé, and their kids.

And Evan understood that. Eddie, Chris, even the fiancé and her daughter, had all done a big to-do before in their previous marriages. When he’d finally found someone who understood all his quirks and the way Shannon would always be a part of things, even though she’s gone, Eddie and his fiancé just wanted to settle in. And Evan, nor Tommy, could blame them for that.

But it was still the third time Evan was losing out on dancing at a reception with the love of his life.

Tommy grabbed a bag of frozen broccoli out of Evan’s hands—they had more halloumi and broccolini on this weeks menu—and settled it in the basket before grabbing Evans hand and turning the younger man towards him.

“You know we have our own reception in just a few months,” Tommy reminded him before pecking him quickly on the lips.

Evan couldn’t help smiling into it, even if he was a little annoyed.

“Months away,” Evan retorts a bit cheekily. “And I’ve gotta throw the party in order to do it.”

Tommy just laughs at him before grabbing his hand and placing it up on the cart, pushing them forward.

“Come on, Ev. I’m hungry, and you promised me dinner,” he teases.

They finish shopping fairly quickly—Tommy has a system to keep him on track after their first half-dozen trips took more than three hours—and then head out of the store, into the darkness of the parking lot. It’s almost 9 PM on a Wednesday night, so there aren’t many cars in the parking lot as they fill the bed of Tommy’s truck with their food. Evan returns the cart, and when he walks back over to Tommy and the truck, he’s setting his phone on the ledge of the truck bed, extending a hand to Evan.

“Come on.”

Evan furrows a brow at him as he takes Tommy’s hand, but Tommy reaches out and taps on his phone screen, and music starts to play. Tommy slides his hands down to Evan’s hips, fingertips slipping just inside the pockets on the back of his jeans.

“What are we doing,” Evan says with a giggle—a giggle—as he slides his arms up around Tommy’s neck. Tommy leans forward and nuzzles his face. He waits a lull, until the lyric comes up on the song, and then sings it softly at Evan.

“Making the most of whatever we got Even if it’s just slow dancing in the parking lot…”

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Next

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

[twodogs-twocats]

Sleep Token as Roomates

For whatever reason, my Sleep Token fixation has chosen to lodge itself in my brain in the form of a New Girl-esque scenario…

Translation: You and all four band members are roommates. Annnd there is definitely romantic tension with every one of them.

Content Warning: very little justification for any of this. Just my 🌈imagination🌈

POV: fem reader

Vessel:

- the one everyone thinks is in charge.

- the most fun one to do chores with. he will get them done, but have a good time along the way. car karaoke on the way to get groceries, dance parties in the kitchen while cooking, playing the floor is lava while vacuuming. he will always try to make you smile even during the most boring of tasks

- workout gear everywhere. he’s got a pull up bar installed above his door, where he does shirtless pull-ups every morning. you only watch sometimes…

- honestly, probably always shirtless in general

- the best smelling of the bunch. lights incense and candles on the reg

- always doing little things to impress you. like as soon as you come home, he starts playing piano, or doing pushups. and then will pretend he didn’t know you were home when he catches you watching

- likes to come up behind you. if you are standing at the kitchen counter, he will reach around you to grab something, with his chest pressed up against you. he uses his size to his advantage, and he gets the sense you like how big he is

- paints your nails sometimes. and sometimes wants you to paint his. black polish only

- a very good cook. often cooks family dinners

- a bit unhinged, but I could see vessel borrowing your clothes and jewelry. like going to bed in your tshirt or stealing some of your rings for his shows

- honestly, I just picture roommate vessel as a generally soft goof

II

- the one who’s actually in charge

- very clean and organized. keeps everyone else in line (if you know the show new girl, to me, II is a quieter, scarier Schmidt lol)

- he’s the best listener. when you have had a rough day, he will listen to you vent for hours. or if you need help making a decision, he will help talk you through it. he gives 100% attention to everything you say

- he will surprise you with finishing little chores for you. you’ll come home to a freshly washed car, or your laundry already folded

- a plant guy. always brings home plants and takes very good care of them. runs your little family garden

- morning person. this man is up at the crack of dawn and has already accomplished about a dozen things before anyone else is even up

- enjoys learning about your hobbies. if you are a reader, he wants to know what you’re reading. if you’re trying to learn something new, he will help you practice

- toxic trait is that he would be the most jealous if you ever brought someone home. like very openly hostile

- light touches. like he tries so hard to keep it platonic, but you’ll feel his hand on your back when he walks around you, or his fingers will linger on yours just too long if he hands you something

III

- the messiest of the bunch. like he will help out with cleaning, but if anyone is leaving laundry or dirty dishes around, it’s this man (often causes little spats with II)

- loud and fun. he is always singing, dancing, playing music. when you get home he will greet you with a big hug. his goal in life is to make you laugh

- likes to braid your hair. and you help him with his space buns

- takes the longest in the bathroom for sure. He enjoys regular bubble baths, and often teases you that you are welcome to join him

- when III’s energy has come down a bit, he is a master at chilling. Im talking movie nights with popcorn and candy, building blanket forts with lots of pillows. (he will sometimes try to sneak an arm around your shoulder. Not unusual for you two to end up *platonically* cuddling on the couch)

- the best dancer. You always bring him when you go out dancing or to a concert.

- the most openly flirty. will always compliment your outfits and tell you how beautiful you look.

- he will also find any way possible to touch you, even when it’s completely unnecessary — hugs when you come home, putting his hand on your knees when he’s talking to you, and occasionally even kissing you on the cheek. he especially loves to see you blushing and flustered

- tinkers with his guitar into the late hours of the night. the sound often puts you to sleep

IV

- the most “bro”-y of the roomates

- like the only one of you who will ever put sports on tv (and you all complain and tell him to put on something else)

- the house barista. makes great coffee and is very particular about his process.

- you like to take naps with IV. You both will pile on the couch and fall asleep watching some stupid comedy. you often end up with your head in his lap and his hand resting on your waist.

- has a bit of a staring problem. he is the most obvious one about checking you out, and he does not seem to care if you notice. when you get dressed up, he will give you a full head to toe scan, and then proceed to stare at you like he wants to eat you (and he probably does, of course)

- enjoys going on walks with you. might not say much, but he always has a good time

- adds lots of artistic touches to the home. buying art or cool knickknacks to add around the house. this man has excellent taste

- the most protective of you. makes sure he knows where you are at and who you’re with. installed a lock on your bedroom door so you could have some privacy. (but he kept a key for himself, you know, just in case)

Etc.

- you definitely have a black house cat, and II is definitely the cat’s favorite

- your living room has been taken over by musical instruments. there is always, always music playing in the house

- all the boys are great at comforting you when you are sad. I could see any one of them holding you while you cry

- big family movie nights. all the boys love movies, so you will all regularly get together to watch something

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Just a Broken Ankle?

Hi there!  This is my first post ever…and it’s not proofread because I knew I’d go back and completely change everything, so I’m just throwing it on here.  This one is for all my Steve girlies, and it’s loosely inspired by my current obsession with Grey’s Anatomy.  Please take all the medical talk in here with a grain of salt…I know nothing!

18+ – MINORS DNI

pairing: fiance!steve x florist!reader

summary: you rush to hospital when you find out steve’s been taken into surgery for an unknown reason…

contains: fluff, fluff, more fluff, stress, mentions of surgery and injury

word count:  3.7k

You lean back against the desk behind you with a huff.  The tips of your fingers ache after being poked and prodded by the thorns of the many, many red rose bouquets you’ve just finished putting together.  Your back and neck are sore from your position over the last few hours, and you can feel a dull throb starting in your feet.  

Owning the best flower shop in Hawkins around Valentine’s Day was doing wonders for your business, but damn what you wouldn’t give for a hot bath to soak in right about now.  

Your angel of an employee, Phoebe, has been manning the register and some smaller orders all day long while you worked in the back, answering phone calls and chipping away at the massive order for twenty dozen assorted roses.  The two of you have been doing a great job at keeping up with the business since you opened two years ago, but you’ve been considering hiring her girlfriend for some extra hands around the shop.

“Hey Boss?” Phoebe calls from the front register.

“What’s up?” You drag yourself from the back area of your shop to the front register while stretching your sore muscles.

“I’m finishing up on these corsages and boutonnieres for the nursing home order, they’ll be labeled and ready to go for the pickup tomorrow morning in a minute,”  Phoebe steps aside to let you see her handiwork.  Her attention to detail is really what makes her the love of your life, aside from your fiancee Steve of course.  She’s arranged red and white roses with baby’s breath so beautifully, you’re positive the people at the nursing home will be tickled pink this Valentine’s Day.  “I was wondering if I could maybe cut out a bit early after I’m done.  Ally is planning this romantic dinner and I wanted to go pick up some wine to surprise her on my way home.”

You give her a warm smile and reach out to place a hand on her shoulder.  “Anything for my favorite employee.  You did a beautiful job on these!”

“I’m your only employee, Boss.  Thank you!”  Phoebe chuckles and turns back to finish up her labels.

You turn to go back and add some finishing touches to the rose order.  “What would I do without – “

You’re cut off by the shrill ring of the shop’s phone.  “I’ve got it!”  You skip over to the phone to answer.  “Hi, thank you for calling Lavender Lane!  How can I help you?”

“Hello, may I speak to (Y/N) (L/N) please?”

You feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach.  “Uh - yes, this is she.”

The woman on the other line clears her throat.  “Hello, ma’am.  I’m an ER nurse here at Hawkins Memorial and I’m calling in regards to Steven Harrington…”

You hear your blood rushing in your ears as the nurse's words start to fade out.  All of a sudden it becomes exceedingly difficult to breathe normally.  The only words you’re able to catch are “...ambulance…surgery…emergency contact…”

You feel Phoebe’s hand on your shoulder, and you think you can hear her ask if you’re alright, but you’re too busy trying to figure out whether your heart is still beating inside of your chest.  Steve?  Your Steve?  In the hospital?  You feel yourself beginning to panic as you drop the phone and run to grab your purse and keys.  

Phoebe struggles to keep up with you as you flitter around the back in search of your keys.  “What’s wrong?  Who was on the phone?”

You’re throwing papers around frantically, looking for your keys in the mess on your desk.  “Uh, Steve is – Steve is i-in the….the h-hospital.  Have to get there..have to get to him.”  It’s becoming harder to see, you can’t figure out why your vision is suddenly so blurred until you realize that you’re crying.  You’re terrified. 

Phoebe takes a firm hold of your shoulders and spins you to face her.  She shoves your keys into your hands and looks you dead in the eye.  “Take a deep breath.”  You follow her breathing as she inhales deeply, then exhales.  “Good.  Now keep doing that, I don’t want you driving if you’re going to freak out the whole time.”  You nod shakily and hurry to the front.

As you reach the door, you remember that Phoebe wanted to leave early.  You turn to apologize but she beats you to it.

“Don’t even think about it, Ally’s wine can wait.  I’ll take care of everything here, you go check on your man.”

You nod as tears run down your face.  The bell on the door rings as you push it open and sprint to your car.  You can hear Phoebe shouting at you to drive safely, but all you can focus on now is Steve, Steve, Steve. 

Your engine revs and your tiles squeal as you peel out of your parking lot and onto the main road.  You drive way too fast, thinking all the while about all of the possible situations that await you.

Was there an accident?  Did someone try to rob the house?  Was he shot?  Stabbed? 

What if he’s dead?

You shake your head to expel such a dark thought, and push down even harder on the gas pedal.

Break

You don’t remember much about your journey to the hospital, but you realize that you’ve probably parked very illegally as you run inside to the desk.   The poor nurse sitting behind it looks at you with wide, scared eyes as she takes you in.  Your mascara is running, you’re sweating and trying to catch your breath as you unload your panic onto her.

“S-someone called me about my fiance.  Steve, S-Steve Harrington,  where is he?!  Where is he, please, I need to see him.  I need to know if he’s alive I-”

Your panic-induced rant is interrupted when an older man with a kind face, who most definitely could be a doctor, approaches where you’re bent over the front desk.  You figure maybe he knows something about Steve’s condition and rush towards him. 

“H-Hello, my name is (Y/N) and my fiance is here and I just want to know what’s going on please.”  The feeling of helplessness starts to creep up on you, and you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks.

The man introduces himself as Dr. Prichard and assures you that Steve is being well taken care of.  They’re in the middle of his surgery right now and he has to get back to the operating room, but he’ll come out with an update for you as soon as he’s able.  

You feel like there’s cotton where your brain should be as you watch him retreat back to the double doors he came from.  How were you just supposed to wait?  What is even happening right now?  You look to the nurse behind the desk, hoping to get some answers out of her, but she immediately ducks her head down before catching your eye.  You let out a sigh of defeat and trudge over to the waiting room.

As you sit down in a chair for the first time all day, you couldn’t feel any farther from relaxed.  Your head swims with possible outcomes and what ifs, and your shoulders start to shake from the force of your cries.  You drop your face into your hands and cry quietly for what feels like an hour, but was probably much shorter than that.  You sit up and take a deep breath as you lean back in the surprisingly comfortable chair, looking around at the room.  

You see an elderly couple walking the halls of the hospital, the woman assisting the man in a hospital gown as he uses a walker.  He stops to peck her on the cheek, and they carry on.  You can’t help but to picture you and Steve at their age one day, and you think about how magical your engagement to Steve has been thus far.  He’s the love of your life, your absolute, without-a-doubt soulmate, and you couldn’t wait to marry him.  You would’ve gone down to the courthouse to get it down the moment after he dropped to one knee, but he insisted on giving you the wedding of your dreams.  Money wasn’t a problem, thanks to Steve’s fancy marketing job and his trust fund, and he’s made sure to do his fair share of the wedding planning.  Together you’ve picked out the perfect venue, tried all of the cakes (much to Steve’s delight) and of course arranged for all of the flowers you could dream of (though Steve let you take the lead on that one).  Now all that was left was to walk down the aisle in three short months, say I do, and start the rest of your lives together.  

You feel yourself begin to cry again.  What if those plans have to change?  What if you don’t have as much time left as you thought?  You’d marry Steve Harrington right here in this goddamn hospital if you had to.  Screw a big white wedding, you’d do anything to be bound to Steve in as many ways as possible. 

You decide to stand and pace, maybe some movement could help calm your nerves, you want to be as level headed as possible when the doctor comes out with an update.  

Your mind races as you think of all the plans you had with Steve.  All the things you still had to do together.  You still had to get married, honeymoon in Italy, buy a house, get a dog, have kids, grow old and senile together until you eventually die in eachothers’ arms at the old age of 100.  It’s been the plan all along, and what if everything is about to change?  What if your entire life is about to get flipped upside down?  What if -

“Miss (L/N)?”

You whip around and see Dr. Prichard, the same doctor you spoke to earlier.  He has a vague expression on his face, and you’re terrified yet eager to hear what he has to say.  You walk towards him slowly, almost in a daze.

“...Harrington…” you say shakily under your breath as you approach him.

Dr. Prichard leans forward, having not quite heard what you mumbled,  “I’m sorry?”

You stand a bit straighter.  “My name, i-it’s Mrs. Harrington.”

Dr. Prichard then looks at you with a warm smile.  “Of course it is, Mrs. Harrington.  Walk with me.”  He gently holds your elbow as he leads you through double doors, towards Steve.

Break

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Dr. Prichard chuckles at your disbelief, after telling you that Steve is in fact just fine.  “Not at all, ma’am.”

You open and close your mouth like a fish, unable to find the words.  “B-but…they told me about an ambulance…and the surgery!”

“Yes ma’am, Steve was brought to us by ambulance, but that’s because it would’ve been unsafe to drive himself here.  We were told that an older woman, Ms. Gertrude, I believe, called 911 for him.”

You’ll thank Jesus every day for your nosey 71-year-old next door neighbor Gertie.  “And the surgery?”

Dr. Prichard sighs and you prepare yourself for the worst. “I’m terribly sorry if our nursing staff led you to believe anything extreme,” Dr. Prichard leans in closer as though he’s sharing a secret ,”Just between you and I, the nurses here have the people skills of pre-teens.”  He chuckles while you give him a look that says tell me already!!! 

 “Steve’s surgery was to repair a broken ankle.  We had to go in and place a few plates and screws to get everything back where it’s supposed to be.  Other than a couple bruised ribs on his left side, your fiance is okay.”

You could feel the stress melt off your body as you pull Dr. Prichard in for a bear hug.   He laughs, startled by your sudden affection.  “Oh my god.  Thank you.”  You want to cry, laugh and sleep all at the same time.

Dr. Prichard rubs your back as you begin to finally calm down.  “There, there.  Everything is A-OK.  His room is just up ahead if  you’d like to see him now.”

You release the older man from your bone-crushing hug.  “Yes, yeah, of course.”  He leads you up the hall a bit further until reaching a room and knocking softly with one knuckle.  

Dr. Prichard turns to you before opening the door.  “He should be awake by now, we put him under for the surgery and he might be a bit loopy still from the drugs.”  

You nod eagerly, just excited to see Steve for yourself and make sure he was alright.  

As Dr. Prichard opens the door, you hear girlish giggles coming from within the room, followed by the deep, hearty chuckle that could only belong to one man.  You trail behind Dr. Prichard as he enters the room.  “You have a visitor, Mr. Harrington.”

You emerge from behind Dr. Prichard and see Steve’s face light up entirely.  

“There she is!  My beautiful wife!” he yells, quite loudly.  You discover where all the giggles were coming from as you see two middle-aged nurses laughing at Steve’s antics.  “Just look at her ladies, isn’t she gorgeous?  I told you she was gorgeous!”  You look down trying to suppress your own girly giggles as you feel your cheeks heat up.  “My god, honey.  You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“And you’re higher than a kite right now, Steve.”  You don’t think you’ve ever been happier to see him as you approach his hospital bed.  You take in his heavily wrapped left ankle that’s elevated off the bed, and you survey the rest of his body for other injuries.  He has some small scratches on his arms and one just above his left eyebrow, but nothing major catches your attention.  He really is okay.  Your heart stops as your eyes meet his.  He’s giving you that smile, the one that scored him a second date all those years ago.  God, he’s so handsome.  

“The only thing I’m high on is love, baby.”  You laugh at this and sigh as you turn to look back at Dr. Prichard, who is also chuckling. 

“You sure weren’t lying about him feeling loopy.”

“He’ll be back to normal before you know it.”  Dr. Prichard puts a hand over his mouth and whispers “, Your guy is quite the character.  He’s got all the nurses on this floor charmed half to death and giggling like school girls in the halls.”  

You both turn to look at the nurses, who are failing to conceal their blush after a flirty wink from Steve.  You shake your head and laugh, “Typical.”  

“We’ll give you two some time.” He says as he ushers the nurses out of the room along with him. 

You turn back to Steve, doing your best impression of his ‘angry mom’ pose and fixing him with a stern look.

He looks right back at you with round eyes, “What?” he whines.  

“Don’t ‘what’ me Steven!”  He winces at the use of his full name.  “Do you mean to tell me that I was losing it out in that waiting room scared out of my mind while you were in here flirting with nurses?!”  Steve’s mouth opens but no words come out.  You’re not actually mad of course, how could you be when he still manages to look sexy in a hospital gown?  You felt obliged to give him a hard time after you cried for hours over what turned out to be a broken ankle.  

“Baby I – how else was I supposed to get the good Jello?”  Steve nods towards the discarded tray next to his bed where you were able to count five empty Jello containers.  You laugh incredulously and sit next to him on the bed.  

“Unbelievable.” You find it hard to muster even the slightest bit of annoyance towards him when he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.  Steve wraps his arms around your waist to the best of his ability and squeezes.  You lean down to brush some hair out of his face and you rest your hand on his cheek.  He feels warm, a little prickly from his stubble, and alive.  You take a deep breath, relieved that everything is going to be okay, and he leans into your touch.  

“I love you…so much.” 

Steve sighs dreamily, “I love you more.”

You slide your hand to grip his chin, squishing his cheeks together playfully as you lean in for a little peck.  As you pull away, Steve whines, “Aw come on, what was that?”  You laugh and look at him, confused as he yells,  “I just survived a major surgery, baby!  That deserves a real kiss!”

You throw your head back and laugh loudly.

“C’mon woman, plant one on me!” 

You’re still giggling at his slightly slurred words as you lean back down to press your lips to his.  He reaches up to hold your face with both hands as he slips his tongue between your lips.  You make a surprised sound at the welcome intrusion, and to this Steve lets out a loud, borderline pornographic moan.  The kiss is passionate and messy as your tongues mingle together and you both smile through it.  You can’t help but to laugh as he kisses you dirtily in his hospital bed, high off his pain meds.  He breaks apart from you with a loud “mwah!” and falls back onto his pillow with a shit eating grin on his face.  

“You’re so beautiful, baby.  C’mere.” Steve holds his arms open to you, and you lie down with him.  The blanket he covers the two of you with is surprisingly soft.  Maybe all of his flirting actually paid off.  You make sure to rest your ear over his heart, to ensure that it’s beating as it should be.  

You’re quiet, and Steve notices because he notices everything.  “I’m okay, baby.”  He rubs circles onto your back soothingly, as if you were the one who got hurt.

You lean on an elbow to look down at him with tears in your eyes.  He winces, the thing Steve hates most in the world is to see you in any sort of pain.  “I know.  I know that.”  You reach up to toy with the gold chain that lays against his collarbone.  “It’s just…it was just really scary Steve.”  A few tears slip out as you recall how terrified you were just hours before.  “All I knew is that you were in surgery a-and no one would tell me anything else and I…I was just so afraid to lose you, Steve.”  You were full on crying now, and Steve held you tightly to him as he rocked the two of you back and forth.  

He smooths your hair down and presses a kiss to your hairline.  “I’m so sorry, baby.  That must’ve been so scary.  I know if I were you I would’ve torn this place apart brick by brick until I got some answers.”  You laugh wetly into his chest.  “So, good on you for not turning into Godzilla.”  Steve pats your back and this only makes you laugh more.

You lean up on an elbow again to look at him. “You gonna tell me what even happened?”

Steve throws his head back and groans dramatically.  You can see a blush start to creep up his neck and onto his ears, so it must be embarrassing.  You poke him in the cheek to spur him on.

“Okay, okay.”  He looks at you and takes a deep breath, readying himself.  “You know those trees we have out front?”

“...Yes?”

Steve squints, like it pains him to say this.  “Well, I was just lookin’ at ‘em and lookin’ at ‘em and I said to myself, ‘Steve, you’re a man.  You should be able to take care of your own yard.’ you know?”  You try to hold back a laugh, knowing where this is going already.  “And so I thought, why would a man, such as myself, have to hire someone to take care of his very own yard?”

“--Oh my god, Steve.”  You put your head in your hand, shaking it in disbelief. 

Steve laughs through his next words as he continues on, “And then, I remembered that I’ve seen Mr. Sanders – you know, the man who lives a few doors down from us – I’ve seen him trimming his trees before.  So I walked on down there and asked him to borrow his gear, and he said yes!”

You’re struggling to hold back your laughs as you listen to Steve’s storytelling.  Steve is also holding himself back from bursting into laughter, which makes the whole thing that much funnier.

“He did offer to help me out, but he was on his way out to run some errands and I didn’t want to bother him of course, so I told him not to worry about it.”

You gaze at him fondly as he tells his story with animated hands and facial expressions.

“And then, y’know, I started out alright.  But then I was trying to reach the higher branches and I guess I just lost my balance or something because the next thing I knew I was flat on my back staring up at the sky, babe!”

“That sounds crazy, honey,”  You slide your hand into his hair to scratch your nails along his scalp.

Steve moans, he loves when you do this.  You see his eyes start to get heavy and his head falls back a bit.  He’s so adorable when he gets all sleepy.

“It was sooo crazy.  Then Gertie was there and then the ambulance guys were there and then I went to sleep and now I’m here,”  You push up on the bed so that he can lay on your shoulder.  Steve snuggles in as best as he can while not disturbing his wrapped up leg or bruised ribs. “Do you think it’s okay if I sleep for a little bit?  I’m kinda tired.”

His eyes begin to flutter closed, and he feels heavier on your shoulder as he falls deeper and deeper into sleep.  “Yeah baby, get some sleep.”

Steve grumbles a bit, just on the cusp of his impending nap ,”Mmm…I love you so much.”

You squeeze him tighter against you and lean your head back to try and get some rest as well.

“I love you more.” 

[rubberizer92]

The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of sweat and musk, the air thick with anticipation and desire. A dozen rubber-clad bodybuilders stood shoulder to shoulder, their chiseled physiques glistening with a sheen of perspiration. They had just finished a grueling month of intense muscle growth routines, pumping their bodies full of steroids while enduring endless hours of workouts and continuous mind control sessions that kept them in a perpetual state of arousal. Now, as they surveyed the room, they couldn't help but feel a thrill coursing through their veins.

The centerpiece of the room was a long, polished table adorned with an array of intricately designed toys. At its head, a tall, commanding figure stood, their face obscured by a full-body latex suit that gleamed like liquid mercury in the dim light. The figure raised a gloved hand, signaling for the bodybuilders to approach. With a collective gasp, they all knelt down on the plush red carpet, their massive, rippling muscles straining against the tight latex as they obeyed the unspoken command.

A row of kneeling, sexy rubber gimps lined the edge of the room, their supple bodies encased in shimmering, form-fitting suits. Their heads were bowed submissively, hands clasped behind their backs as they waited eagerly for the bodybuilders to arrive. The tension in the air was palpable as the bodybuilders slowly began to make their way down the line, each one taking in the sight of the gimps with hungry eyes.

As each musclebound behemoth reached the end of the line, they paused for a moment, taking in the submissive figure before them. They could feel the power emanating from their massive frames, the unyielding control they wielded over these helpless beings. And then, with a low growl, they reached out and grasped the gimp by the collar, pulling them roughly towards them. The gimp eagerly arched their back, offering their lips to the bodybuilder as they were dragged closer. The anticipation of what was to come hung thick in the air, making the room feel electric with desire.

[miguelschamp]

Hey can you please write a stiles/reader fic where they buy a ton of paczki since Stiles is Polish and the reader is part Polish

cravings

pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!polish!reader

summary: only one place can kill your period cravings

warnings: none

a/n: hii !! thank you so much for the request. i am american, so if there’s anything i have wrong or missed please let me know. i hope you enjoy :)

your period had actually come out of nowhere. it was usually a little later, but it seemed like mother nature wanted to visit you early.

of course, you had your usual cravings like every other girl. chocolate or sometimes really spicy things. but this time, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted and it was driving you insane.

everything you ate, was okay tasting, but it didn’t hit the spot.

then it hit you.

“stiles ?” you say into the phone

“yeah, y/n/n, everything okay ?”

“no.”

“what’s wrong ?”

“i need you to take me to hanna’s bakery.”

“hanna’s bakery ?” he exclaims, “baby, that’s an hour and a half away.”

“i know, but i really want pączki.” you whine

“pa- what the hell is that ?”

your eyes widen, “you’ve never had pączki ?”

“no, what is that ?”

“they’re kinda like donuts.” you say, “stiles you’re polish, how do you not know what that is ?”

“i don’t know. when i went to that bakery, i just got regular donuts.” he says, “can’t we just go to another one closer ?

“no. it needs to be hanna’s.” you say, “please.”

stiles sighs over the line, “i’m on my way.”

•••

stiles would’ve never driven an hour and a half out of his way for literally anyone. but seeing as he’s heard you complain about how you couldn’t find what you were craving, he would do it for you.

as you soon as you guys arrive, you jump out of the jeep. already up on the curb as stiles gets out of the car.

“stiles, come on.” you say reaching out for him

“i’m coming.” he chuckles as you grab his hand and pull him into the bakery.

you ended up ordering a dozen of the donuts. a huge smile on your face as you guys got into the car. as soon as you’re seated, you open the box.

you sigh as the wonderful smell fills the truck. stiles eyeing you as you look down at the box.

“you look crazy.” he says.

you immediately roll your eyes, “shut up these are amazing.”

you pick one up for yourself before holding one out to him.

“no, i’m okay.”

“stiles.” you groan

“i don’t want any.” he laughs

“just try it please. i promise it’s good.” you say, "my grandma used to make them all the time when i was a kid. this is the only place that tastes close to hers."

he sighs as he watches you pull puppy dog eyes. he takes it from you and his brows furrow. it looked like a regular donut to him. he couldn’t understand what was so special about it to you.

“ready ?” you ask. as he nods, the two of you take a bite. your eyes roll back as the delicious treat fills your senses. “oh my god, this is exactly what i wanted.”

you look over as you notice stiles’ silence. your eyes widen at the donut being half gone.

“oh my god, stiles.” you laugh

“what ?” he says. his mouth was full of pączki. powdered sugar sitting on his lip as he looked back at you with wide eyes.

“do you like it ?”

“definitely.” he says as he sits back. your laughter intensifying as he finishes the rest of the donut in one bite before reaching for another.

[6okuto]

WANNA GET BREAKFAST?

time skip + gn!reader | fluff (?), mutual pining w no resolution. Lol.

the first time atsumu shows up at your house this week is for a movie marathon. he moves through your home as if it was his own—no hesitation in opening cupboards he knows have bowls and cups, grabbing his go-to blanket from your closet, and taking up more space on the couch than you until you shove his legs away.

he falls asleep during the third movie, head on your shoulder and arm across your lap. when he wakes up, he denies your claims of him snoring and drooling on your shirt.

the second time he shows up is the morning after, 30 minutes after calling to ask if he left his charger in your living room.

you open the door to find him wearing pyjama pants and a shirt you bought him years ago as a birthday gift, hair still messy in a fluffy, you really want to reach out and touch it way. “mornin’.”

“good morning.”

otherwise wordlessly, you offer his charger and he wraps it up to fit nicely in his pocket. he thanks you, and you shift on your feet to lean against the door frame.

a beat passes where neither of you move to say goodbye.

“do you wanna grab breakfast together?” he asks suddenly.

“you want to spend another day with me?”

“woah, i never said that. just breakfast.”

it isn’t just breakfast. though you guessed as much hours ago.

you’re back in your room that evening laughing over things that happened years ago—things you’ve talked about a dozen times but never seem to grow tired of. your head is on his chest, and you can feel his laughter run through you while you reenact a god awful sex ed class that haunts you to this day.

atsumu stays until your eyes droop and you keep yawning, and he figures he should head home to make sure nothing somehow caught fire while he was away.

you manage to walk him to the door, and his hands find their way to pull the blanket tighter around your sleepy figure. “you sure you can make it back to bed?” he teases.

“goodnight, ‘tsumu.”

the third time, again, the morning after, atsumu doesn’t bother calling to check if you're home before you hear the doorbell ring.

“‘tsumu? did you forget something again?”

he doesn’t respond at first. he isn’t even looking at your face when he snickers. “yeah, actually. the sweater someone that isn’t me happens to be wearing.”

looking down, you see the familiar MSBY logo on your chest and feel your face warm. it hits you then that when you reached for your hoodie, it had been in the laundry, not at the corner of your bed.

maybe that's why you fell asleep to the smell of his cologne.

“...shut up.”

you move a little too fast to take it off, if only to cover your face by pulling it over your head. “didn’t say y’had to take it off.”

you freeze, and just like the day before, the both of you stare at each other for a second.

maybe two.

your hands let go of the sweater edge, clenching and unclenching your fists instead. “good. it’s comfy.”

“mhm,” he hums. “it suits you.”

ignoring the compliment, this time you’re the one who asks, “do you wanna get breakfast?”

he shoots you a smile. “sure. you paying?”

the fourth time that atsumu shows up, you’re the one who called.

“are you missing something?”

“what? am i s'pposed to say you?” he answers, voice still groggy.

yes, a part of you thinks. “no, idiot. you left your headphones here.”

“...oh.” there’s shuffling on the other side of the line, and you imagine he’s looking around to confirm as if you weren’t holding the headphones in your hand. “guess i did.”

“i’ll come over then. breakfast after?”

the question makes you smile. “yeah, but i’m too lazy to go out. wanna cook something?”

“fuck no.” atsumu lets out a breathy laugh. “how is cookin' any less work than going to a café?”

“okay, baby, do you want cereal?”

“woah, woah, woah, baby?” he asks loudly. the grin on his face is audible. “i knew y’had a crush on me.”

“that’s not—god, i’m hanging up on you.”

you don’t hang up. not until he finishes laughing and you hear him confirm, “be there in 20.”

it’s the fifth time atsumu comes over that really confuses you.

“why are you here?”

“that's how you greet your best friend?”

“stop it, you know what i mean. i didn’t find anything you left behind, we even double checked before you left,” you point out, brows furrowed.

“yeah, i know. kinda ruined my plan.” he pouts at you.

you blink back at him.

“what plan?”

atsumu, jokingly aghast, softly says your name. he drags out the last syllable in that teasing, endearing way that makes your stomach do a flip. “you think i’d just forget things i use regularly at your house 3 times in one week?”

“i—well,” you start and sputter. it sounds stupid to say now but, “i mean, yeah, i guess?”

a laugh escapes your best friend and even as your face warms in embarrassment, it's a nice sound. he leans in slightly, tilting his head. “and you call me the idiot?”

looking at the grin on his face, witty remarks, statements, any words at all flash in your head, none staying long enough for you to figure out what to say. your eyes flicker between him and anywhere, everywhere else.

cute, atsumu thinks.

maybe if you weren’t looking at the tree behind him, you would have noticed his eyes flicker between yours down to your lips.

they stay there, on your mouth, a little longer than he expects. only by a second, but whatever confidence atsumu has falters as his face starts to go red. clearing his throat, he moves back a breathable distance away.

“nevermind, you'll figure it out. you, uh, still wanna get breakfast?”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[signaloursomething]

Had a dream last night that I was on a train, mostly naked, blindfolded, tied to the grab bar…

So, I thought I’d channel that and got all dressed to meet you for lunch, hoping you’d be able to beg off for the afternoon… when I got to your office, past the receptionist, workers, and behind closed doors, you pushed me into the wall, pulled my hair, kissed me hard, and then said you had to do a few things first... seeing the want on my face… you thought it’d be fun to torture me a bit… torture you… so you said to have fun, find a man, get fucked while you did a few things… to tell you about it… let you watch, if I could…

I was so surprised… you reached your hand up my skirt though, and I was soaked just thinking about it… you pushed two fingers in deep, pulled em out, and had me lick them clean… then told me to come back even wetter…

I sashayed out, hair a little messy, dress unbuttoned one too many to show my lingerie…

I had already picked my mark… he eye fucked me on the way in, and why not, so, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into a windowless conference room, dropped my dress to the floor to let him look at me, take me in, close his mouth, and then kiss me…

Hands everywhere, lips kissing, tongues wandering, tasting, fingers grabbing, pinching, teasing… then I fell to my knees, unbuckled his pants and he sprang to… I began licking his tip, and sliding up and down as he put his hands in my hair, reached for my tits, and seemed both excited and confused by the whole situation…

Then I remembered you wanted to watch… I took a picture with his dick in my mouth and sent it before he realized, he panicked, then you called the conference room, on video… he answered… I kept sucking… so here we are, on an 80” TV, his boss, my love, watching as I deep throat his cock…

You tell him it’s okay, just go with it… then you tell me to stand up, drop my panties, and to lay on the conference table… I oblige… you tell him to start licking my pussy and pinching my nipples… I’m smiling, at you, at him, and you watching him watch me… within minutes an orgasm runs through me… he makes a move to stand up… you tell him to smack my pussy with his cock a few times, don’t go in, just tease her… you know how much that makes me weak, how good it feels so good on my already swollen clit, I spread my legs wider push my hips up further, willing him to push it in…

We all want this…

At this point there’s really no turning back…

My love didn’t mean “don’t go in…” He wants This too… possibly more than me?!

Realizing he’s about to fuck the bosses girlfriend, the door unlocked, anyone could walk in, anyone could hear… see it on screen… knows the boss is watching… and not 100 yards away…

You tell him to kiss me, and with that change in angle, and my dripping wet pussy willing it so, he slips inside… with a gasp, a moan, and a pretty instant third orgasm pulsing on his cock…

He stands up, thrusting hard, my tits bouncing, his balls slapping, then he pinches my nipple-hard… you tell him to try biting them, and with that I wrap my legs around him, riding up and down, about to cum again….

At this point my love realizes he’s not actually getting any work done, so he asks to be filled in on the rest later, and tells to have fun, and if I finish with what his name, to find another eligible man, that they should each leave a mark so he can see how big of a slut I’ve been…

What should have taken an hour, took three… word of the chance to fuck the bosses girl spread quickly, and at times there was a line outside, at times a line inside… I fucked a dozen men that day, some once, some repeatedly, by the end I was sweaty, used, with cum dripping down my legs, pussy swollen and pink, nipples so tender, smile so big…

And I returned to you, yours, full of stories and cum… ready for whatever else you had in mind…