#dog name suggestions welcome i suck at names

[can0fwworms]

doodles your bbgs

close ups

Horangi with the dog is based off of this tweet

[dimepdf]

★  𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. Eren fucking hates babies, which is why he feels so confused sat the feeling he gets in his stomach seeing you with one.

─── ☆ notes. i blame tiktok for giving me the worst baby fever while also making me so digusted with them as well, i saw a tiktok where this mother was like "oh yeah i suck the snot out of my toddlers nose!" ??? . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 1.1k (10 min read) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. domestic fluff | babies | babysitting | baby fever | readers niece | bluey slander | Eren lowkey wanting a kid | suggestive ending | this is all tiktoks fault.

Eren hates being around kids, especially the ones that scream and cry with their snotty noses and run around throwing tantrums just because they could get their way, type of toddlers, mostly just to be even more clear.

He excuses the hatred with him growing up an only child, coming from a small, close-knit family where he was the only baby raised around older relatives that had refused to plant their own roots so he wasn't left with many cousins around his age to interact with.

Eren's parents were the only ones to really expand their family tree when having him, which was why he was just so spoiled rotten with attention and gifts, and if there was one thing that Eren loved more than you, it was attention.

"Woah, when did you multiply?" was the second thing you heard, followed by the sound of your shared apartment door swinging open and the rustling of bags.

His arms were occupied with a huddle of grocery bags, all carried on his forearms. That last thing that your boyfriend expected to come home was the sight of you and your uninvited guest, your young niece, lounging together on the couch.

Eren didn't want to scoff and complain about how she was practically neglecting the 40-inch flat screen instead of cursing the screen with some cartoon with a blue fucking dog with an accent, using his surround system setup that he was plotting on coming home and ending his day by playing GTA on.

"Oh my bad baby, I forgot to text you." Taking your eyes off the show for only a quick minute to give him a small greeting smile from your comfortable looking spot on the couch.

Right next to the beaded haired little girl giggling and clapping her hands at whatever nonsense was playing out on the screen, "My sister had something to do today, so she just dropped the baby off for a bit."

Eren hummed in acknowledgement of your response while dropping the bags on the counter. Not really knowing what to say, he tried his best to hide the fleeting glances he would give from the kitchen every once in a while as he put away the food. 

Eren was convinced he was fighting some sort of demon after seeing you being all motherly with someone else's child. 

His thoughts spiraled about his lovely future with you, conflicting with the stupid smile he tried oh-so-hard to repress while opening cabinets at the thought of him coming back home to you and his own child one day.

Obsessed with how it would feel to swing open the front door and be greeted by his future loving wife while holding a little human who would call him dad.

Eren had been so caught up in his own fantasy world that he hadn't even noticed you walking up to him, standing right beside him with a questionable glance. Having called out his name so many times, you were down to using his full government, yet not even that would break him from his trance.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging against his back, to finally catch his attention. "You okay, baby?" you chuckle, feeling his muscles tense for a split second before flinching back to reality with a drawn-out sigh.

"Yeah, you know, just thinking about shit—stuff," he mutters, caressing the arm you had slung around his torso with the brush of his thumb, as he tried to figure out just what was going on in his mind. "Just seeing you around babies and stuff, it kinda just fucks with me a bit, I guess."

It was as if the child could feel eyes on her, taking a break from sucking on her finger to turn and stare bug-eyed at you two all snuggled up in the kitchen. Watching her struggle a little to slide off the couch and waddle over to him was just another heart throbbing scene.

He almost clenched his imaginary pearls too. "I think she wants you to pick her up." you laugh, both glancing down at the toddler that just stood there looking up with her arms reached up as if she were stuck in place.

"Oh," Eren hesitated for a moment, his glance shifting from you to her almost as if he were second guessing whether it was really okay to pick her up.

He first wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans, then reached down and lifted her up by her sides as gently as if she were some glass doll.

Eren had first handled her outstretched in his hold, as if he were presenting the child to someone in front of him. "Uh hello…" He muttered, almost melting at the smile that spreads across the little girl's face as she shyly tucked herself into his chest, muttering something close to a greeting reply.

"Not you charming the entire family tree." You teased him from beside, smiling at the adorable exchange.

The day continues on without much issue, you were able to actually get some rest with the little girl actually attached to Eren’s side for the entirety of the night.

The little girl even convinced him into watching some more toddler cartoons alongside her, having Eren wrapped around her small little finger as he nodded his head at whatever nonsense baby blabber would come from her mouth.

Spending the time together drained whatever childlike energy the kid had left in her. Once you had given her a bath and given Eren a much-needed lesson on how diapers work, the little girl was out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow.

Leaving you and Eren with a bit of a cautious peace period alone in the living room, you two were able to finally enjoy each other's silent company.

"You're not as bad with kids as I thought you’d be," you said in a quiet, gentle tone while snuggling by Eren’s side, not wanting to make much noise despite being a whole room and hallway away from the sleeping baby.

Eren’s face scrunched slightly in a slight teasing appearance of offense, but he quickly glanced off in the direction of the baby in a trance of his thoughts.

"I would be cool with a lot more of them if they didn't shit and cry all the damn time." He shrugs honestly, not wanting it to show that his baby fever alarms were blaring at full volume as his hands traced over the exposed part of your stomach that peeked from your shirt.

"Would you... like to have kids?" He was finally done tiptoeing over the big question, the hitch in his breath telling you all you need to know about how nervous he was about even suggesting getting you pregnant.

"I mean, yeah," you answered a little too simply, "babies are cute." And then quickly followed the look—the dark puppy pouty eyes staring back at you were all too telling as to what his true motivation behind the question was. 

"Eren." 

"We could always practice too!"

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[dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai]

Welcome to the AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!

Thoughts below the cut, ID in alt!

SO: Caine is still the ringmaster, and the others may or may not be there, but for what I was specifically thinking, this is a sort of replace-the-cast thing. The most obvious two are Gordon as Pomni and Coomer as Kinger. I was thinking Bubby could be a Zooble equivalent, Benrey as Jax, and Tommy as Ragatha. Darnold would be left in Gangle's spot (though the two are nothing alike), and Forzen would have been Kaufmo.

I picked and chose names based on how weird they were GFDHJSAK

So, normal names like Gordon or Tommy got replaced, while unconventional ones like Benrey and Bubby are the same.

Leodoll is a play on Leo, meaning lion, and doll, which is. obvious.

Asher Blau literally means "happy blue." They're both Jewish names (from what I understand, PLEASE tell me if I'm wrong here), and of course Asher is a double play on Ash, like fire.

Beybend is a play on "Beyblade," while also suggesting Tommy's new flexibility

Benji Calzone is funny

Gotcher is a play on tamogotchi and Kinger's name (or, the last part of Coomer's original name)

The designs are also a play on their personalities, going off the theory for the show that that's the case (like Ragatha being a bit of a doormat and Jax being a jackass)

Gordon: Plush lion. Fierce, brave, and strong, but also a huge softie. Makes others feel better and/or safe.

Bubby: Mime action figure. Going off the idea of him being in the tube like how mimes usually start their routines pretending to be in boxes. Also his joints CAN detatch and re-attach, so something something symbolism somthing he was built instead of born something

Tommy: Heavily inspired by Betty Spaghetty. Literally really flexible, playing into the idea of him having really good instincts/adaptability.

Benrey: LEGO ass. Wanted to play into the idea of his shapeshifting, and also stepping on LEGOs sucks and you KNOW he'd find that funny. Moves like Queen Whatevawanabe (how do you spell her name?) from The Lego Movie 2. Also I liked the idea of he and Gordon being opposites: Gordon is soft, Benrey is hard. You cannot really change Gordon's appearance at all, Benrey's is MEANT to be changed, ect. I like stuff like that idk

Coomer: Tamogatchi. Easy. You ever seen Wreck-It Ralph? He moves like the Nicelanders from that movie, but with a lot more casual glitching. His speech pattern is basically identical to canon. My guy has ADHD and a terrible memory, so although he's kind, he's not super reliable. He's been here for a LONG time.

I do not know what Forzen and Darnold would look like.

Sunkist is one of those lil ducklings on wheels little kids play with, but ofc a dog instead of a duck.

If/when Joshua shows up, Gordon would be SO upset. Relieved as well, but mostly concerned. I was thinking he could either be a lion, too, cuz the idea of a lion cub is SO CUTE, but I think him being a horse makes more sense for his personality. Cowboy horsie!

Before anyone asks, yes, Gordon DOES run on all fours if he wants to be faster

I have zero idea as to where Gman fits into this. Maybe he MADE the program, I don't know.

Anyway, yeah! :)

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Ultimate Writing Masterlist

Hi! This is my masterlist of all my writing I’ve posted. Enjoy!

Sanders sides fanfiction:

(in order of oldest to newest)

Of Stars and Earth — Logan is the main character, god au, logicality, unfinished, Ao3 link. 3/? Chapters and 4,920 words.

Hey bbg — Prinxiety, heavy angst, it’s whump really, completed, Ao3 link. 1,963 words. [Disclaimer: i don’t really like hey bbg, but you are welcome to read it regardless. Once again— i don’t like this one 😭]

What if we cuddled in the tech booth — Prinxiety, hurt/comfort, completed, Ao3 link. 518 words.

Just Fine — Analogical, hurt/comfort, Logan angst, completed, Ao3 link. 1,198 words.

Complimentary — Logan is the main character, Orange is a character here, some light angst, unfinished(?), Ao3 link. 2/? Chapters and 2,018 words.

A Cup of Cold Tea (and a Warm Heart) — Whump, heavy angst, Whumpee Patton, caretaker Janus, post-whump, completed and also unfinished at the same time, Ao3 link. 746 words.

You Look Like You Could Use a Hand — Analogical, accessory swap, fluff, as in pure tooth rotting fluff it’s insane, completed, Ao3 link. 538 words.

Caught in the Cobwebs — Moceit, Virgil is a bitch, Janus is a bitch, Post Anxceit, completed, Ao3 link. 2/2 Chapters and 932 words.

Helpless — Patton whump again, it’s tied into a cup of cold tea, whump, Whumpee Patton, failed escape, completed, Ao3 link. 593 words.

Alone — Whump, Whumpee Patton, tied into a cup of cold tea, solitary confinement, completed, Ao3 link. 359 words.

(Not) a Dog — Analogical, Janus is a bitch, Virgil is a bitch, they both kind of suck here, dehumanization, hurt/comfort, completed, Ao3 link, 976 words.

i dont wanna be your friend — Prinxiety, genderswap, drunk confessions, love confessions, the two are named Rose and Victoria (roman and Virgil) and are absolute dorks of lesbians, completed, 4/4 chapters, Ao3 link, 4476 words

the hand that feeds deserves to be bitten when it beats— Whump, Virgil is getting beat up, self-insert, you are the one hurting him, please mind the warnings, dehumanization, muzzles, biting, blood, completed, Ao3 link, 1107 words.

Remember Your Place — Whump, Roman is getting beat up, please mind the warnings, dehumanization, pet whump, royal/manor whump, ballroom whump, incomplete, 1/? chapters. Ao3 link, 1454 words.

Original writing

The ivory isle — Uncompleted, Royal Road link, 1/? Chapters.

To Be Hated — the ivory isle snippet, takes place after the story, tbh you can read this but it probably won’t make much sense, Tumblr link. 2045 words.

Oh no. — snippet for my #blessed ocs, Tumblr link. 735 words.

Weaknesses and Trustings — Whump, generic whump, nameless characters, intoxication, creepy Whumper, nothing suggestive or nsfw though, Tumblr link. 1027 words.

There Isn’t Any Music — Whump, generic whump, death, nameless characters, Tumblr link. 357 words.

[agency-against-he-hims]

FEMDITOR PINNED POST

welcome to the femditor roleplay blog, i have a fewthings to iterate before we have fun with things;

this is a ROLEPLAY blog; nothing we do here is meant to be taken seriously were just having fun with it.

this is based off of a list of headcanons which you guys arent required to agree with so have fun

feel free to interact with your other roleplay blogs yayayya: just know, this exists within its own universe of wildly wacky things, including liberal quo (status quo but liberal)

below is the rules, tagging system, headcanons you should expect, and "about the admin" or whatever

RULES

DONT BE A BIGOT. i know my entire roleplay blog centers around auditor being a "men suck, feminism for the win" joke blog but you should under no circumstances endorse this; so, KEEP YOUR RACISM, FATPHOBIA, ABLEISM, MISOGYNY/MISANDRISM, HOMOPHOBIA, TRANSPHOBIA AND GODKNOWS WHAT; OUT OF HERE!

we dont do nsfw here. this is a sfw blog, and we will probably softblock any "interaction" (asks, comments) with nsfw accounts. there will be mildly suggestive jokes but nothing bad, just kids humor

hey. if you ever feel like a joke is being taken too far, or you dont like certain content on this blog and think it isnt kind or respectful; do let us know! sometimes we can say things in joking ways that arent actually funny. its not a rule, but id love to have people just be cool with that.

do not bring discourse to this roleplay account. blinks my beautiful eyes at you

be respectful to the people who interact or i will smite you with my swords.

TAGGING SYSTEM

#reblog -> reblogs

#askaudi -> asks

#ooc -> out of character

#slayteraction -> interaction with other rp blogs

#womentalkinghere -> genera talking

#femditorforpresident -> blog tag

HEADCANONS TO EXPECT

ladytor. the gimmick of this entire blog is that auditor is a woman and will kill you because shes cool

divorcee twice to phobos and voltrix

does a nasty trump impression

dog named gestalt (yes that one)

thats it ill add more as the lore builds

ABOUT THE ADMIN

WAVES!! hi we're Kyforyel, you can find our blog at @kyforyelsystem i make cool art and even cooler fanfics.

we are cool

we like the beatles

we are a did system, an autistic narcissist so i apologize if we come across as weird sometimes

we use they/it/mer pronouns and would prefer masc/neutral terms

if this blog dies feminism dies with it

[ramonahblog]

Things I Wish I Could Do But Have No Idea* Where To Start

*or minimal idea. Am very confused. Suggestions welcomed.

This post is exactly what the title says.

This was supposed to be posted ages ago. I have started the first one on the list so yay!

Drawings. No idea how to draw. My best drawing is a shitty mountain landscape that you can at least tell what the objects in the drawings are. That's not me being demeaning, it's objectively bad because complete beginner over here. Lost the sketchbook (hahaha) so now I have pencils but no paper. (I have sketchbooks now, they're getting filled) I also have watercolour pencils because also watercolour drawings.

Doll clothes I can make clothes. Heck, I can make corsets (if I had the budget). So logic dictates that I should be able to figure out how to make doll clothes right? Apparently not. I am so confused.

Painting Whenever I have a day off, I still end up awake before sun which means no matter the season, I watch the first rays of light peaking over nature shit and a dog bouncing around in what can only be called frolicking. If the day feels like being a Pleasant Fairy Tale~ Setting, sometimes Dog is frolicking after a BUTTERFLY. Which is the most adorable thing. Dog is a large breed so it's adorable and funny and cute. Dog is not named Dog. That is his penname, And I just think the scene deserves to be painted. That's all. Also genuine question for painters: You know how some writers make it up as they go, do some painters do that as well?

Cross-stitch I did this once as a kid (single digits). And despite the fact that I was interested, I had a shitty teacher who yelled at anyone who didn't perfect it on the first time for "not trying". Which as you can image was all of the fucking kids. She was such an asshole. So that's a great reminder every time I want to try cross-stitching. Unexpected block and annoying one. My brain is letting the asshole teacher win and that sucks. 5. Embroidery. I'm just confused. At this stage, I know embroiderers work very hard making their pieces but it's still "??? this is just pure magic" to me. I don't know how to do the magic.

Bonus list because it's less "no idea where to start" and more "some other shit is in the way":

Corsetry. No budget for the boning.

Aerial acrobatics Okay, this one is just pure wish fulfilment for me. Even if there was lessons nearby, I've been vetoed on this because of medical issues. So sadly, only pure wish fulfilment. At least I'm a writer so I can add one or two that have the skills.

Ceramic This is just a lack of time on my part. And also space. But mostly time.

[ajoytobeheld]

Food review: North America 2010, volume one, part two

May 14th, 2010

Welcome back to another instalment of us eating our way across America.

28th April Covington, Kentucky.

Covington hadn’t provided us with that much during the day.  A trip across the Ohio river into Cincinnati led to a market research interview in a bagel shop, which included false names and the impracticality of bottomless coffee mugs.

We did find a sports bar in Covington that included a whole variety of rock inspired Mac n’ Cheeses’ including Nirvana, Cream and Green Day.  Now I don’t like Green Day, but I decided to go for their take on Mac n’ Cheese.  I’m not sure if Billie Joe had had any input into it, but if he had his ideas were pretty good.  The Green Day contained spinach and sun-dried tomatoes, this created a better flavour to the Mac n’ Cheese and also a bit more colour.  I find Mac n’ Cheese a bit bland and not the most attractive of meals, but the spinach and the tomato changed this.  It was a nice size, the perfect amount of a quick meal before the show.

29th April, Madison, Wisconsin.

The last time we played Madison, whilst we were annoying the students in their beer hall, I decided to ask some of them where was good to eat.  We were kindly sent to the Top of the World and had an amazing meal.  We decided we would go back there.  Top of the World is a Himalayan restaurant serving dishes from Nepal, Tibet and India.  I had the Goat Curry last time and it was so good, I had it again.  With the meal you were given a dhaal or a salad.  I went for dhaal.  This one was more of a soup, normally it is a lot thicker, but the spices and the spinach created a lightly balanced soup that was refreshing.

The curry came and the meat just fell off the bone.  It was so tender and the spices created an amazing flavour, the spices dancing on my tongue.  Despite it being quite dense, it felt really light, and I felt contented at the end.  I was left sucking the bones to get all the flavours off.  Despite it being one of the more expensive meals of the tour (average plate cost $16), it was definitely worth it.

30th April, Chicago Illinois

No visit to Chicago is complete until you’ve gone to Intelligentsia Coffee; probably my favourite coffee shop in the world.  Unlike Gimme Coffee in New York, it doesn’t have the snobbery and the staff were really helpful in suggesting different beans for my espresso. Me and Tom both came away bearing some beans.

Today’s meal was eaten and then I realised I hadn’t taken a picture.  Sorry fans, my stomach comes first.  I went across the road to Azteca De Oro and got a couple of tacos.  First tacos of the tour and they were great.  It’s hard to muck up a taco and these were satisfying and full of flavour.

After the show I crossed the street again to a hot dog place called Wrigleyville Dogs.  And though it was a great meal at 1am, it wasn’t as good as a Pink’s in L.A. The chilli sauce had made the bun go too soggy and this led to it all spilling out.  Nonetheless, after a show and a massive thunder storm it was satisfying.

1st May, Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Some of us ended up in a Tequila bar for dinner called Barrio.  As well as having a massive selection of tequila, which we failed to try, they served Mexican “tapas”, which was basically small mexican dishes mainly tacos.  I had a carnitas taco and a crab taco.  Both appeared well presented with a few extra touches such as fresh coriander.  The crab taco was very good, when were in Mexico we had tuna sashimi tacos and they were amazing.  The crab created a different feel to the taco, the lightness of the crab meat contrasting really well with the lime and the coriander.  Despite being in a fancier place these tacos didn’t cost that much more than anywhere else so it was still excellent value, and being served a man called Machete also helped.

2nd May, Billings, Montana.

So how many of you have been to Billings?  Well, we’ve been there twice.  Both times we’ve been to a restaurant called Walkers, which serves pretty fancy food in a town that doesn’t seem that big.  With a vast beer and wine selection, they have a very appealing menu.  I had the confit of duck which came with Cannellini Beans, pancetta, fried garlic and asparagus.  The duck was so tender and had been cooked really well; the meat falling off the bones.  The beans had been cooked in a creamy sauce.  The fried garlic was very good, and that with a bit of duck meat and the beans lit up my mouth.  The asparagus had been cooked very well, it was still a bit crunchy and the creaminess of the beans really complemented it.  It was pretty expensive but well worth the price.

In part 3, we reach the West coast and hit up some of our favourite food establishments.

[needyoucap]

I posted 2,930 times in 2022

That's 2,069 more posts than 2021!

67 posts created (2%)

2,863 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@iam93percentstardust

@catchclaw

@tedrakitty

@compo67

I tagged 1,550 of my posts in 2022

Only 47% of my posts had no tags

#stony - 593 posts

#stevetony - 559 posts

#tony stark - 205 posts

#spn - 55 posts

#winteriron - 53 posts

#geraskier - 49 posts

#steve rogers - 43 posts

#lmao - 39 posts

#bucky barnes - 30 posts

#mass effect - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 115 characters

#is that my dog is completely blocked from the bathroom so there's zero chance of her accidentally poisoning herself

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I saw a screenshot of a tumblr post saying "sam winchester and bella swan dress the same" and in my attempt to find the original post I stumbled upon a sam-and-bella-being-exactly-alike conspiracy that I'm now obsessed with

9 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#4

As an old Big Time Rush fan who recently went to a concert and is remembering all my previous fics and getting sucked back into the fandom, I would just like to complain very quickly about the lack of distinction AO3 users seem to have between the Big Time Rush (TV show) and Big Time Rush (band) tags.

I'm probably not the first or only person to complain about this, but I'm 99% certain that one was intended for RPF and one was intended for fic based on the show only. Tagging both for your show fic only confuses and makes it harder for people trying to search specifically for RPF, AND for people wanting to exclude RPF, for that matter. Because now if you want to hide anything featuring the actual real life band members, without missing out on any show fics, you have to type all their names in the exclude box, and who has the time for that?

10 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

#3

Everyone was panicking. The Avengers had just received a ransom video showing Tony in the hands of some HYDRA kidnappers. They were currently rewatching it, hoping to find some clues to where HYDRA was keeping Tony, as JARVIS couldn't locate him.

"What'cha watching?" a voice over Steve's shoulder said, startling him.

Behind him stood Tony. Steve couldn't do anything other than gawk at Tony, who, other than a few scrapes and bruises, looked completely fine.

"I guess you didn't want to wait for us to rescue you," Bucky remarked.

Tony grinned. "Where would be the fun in that?" he said.

12 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#2

So due to tumblr's recent addition of "community labels" and my inherent suspicion of anything tumblr does, I'm here to remind you that Pillowfort is literally exactly everything tumblr users have been asking for, without the censorship. There are many, many, features and I can't even think of them all right now but the main one is that they aren't funded by advertisers; currently, I believe they're fully user-funded by donations with plans to implement some kind of optional subscription for premium features in the future. Because of this, they fully allow NSFW content. Basically if it's legal to post on the internet (in the USA, anyway, where Pillowfort is based) its welcome on Pillowfort. You can mark your posts as , if you're worried about minors being exposed to anything unsavory. In fact, looking at their post toggles right now, you can change the privacy of individual posts so that only logged-in users, followers, mutuals, or even yourself are able to view it. Pillowfort has privacy controls galore.

Literally the only thing that tumblr has that Pillowfort doesn't is the user base. Which is where this post comes in. If you, too, are suspicious of these new community labels and the fact that tumblr is being super vague about their policies and the fact that anyone can just "suggest" a community label for a post (which might then be permanently slapped on your post, with no way to take it off without appealing to the tumblr mod team), please, please consider joining Pillowfort. At the moment, you can sign up by donating $5 to them for a registration link, OR you can ask me or anyone you know that has a Pillowfort account for a free registration link: each user gets three free links generated every week, which means if you end up liking it, it's pretty easy to let your friends also sign up for free.

In case this post somehow blows up and I end up having more than three people wanting to join per week (which I'm doubting at this point) here's a link to Pillowfort's official Twitter profile, where they regularly start threads for people to drop their registration invite links for anyone looking to sign up.

Please just consider trying it out because at this point I really don't see NSFW coming back to tumblr any time soon (and literally neither does the CEO of tumblr), and we all deserve better than the buggy updates and "features" they keep forcing on us over and over.

Pillowfort.social

15 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

With every new fandom I join, I inevitably end up reading some type of "soulmates are real" fic

And yet no ship will ever give me the same feelings that Sam and Dean being actual, canon soulmates does

20 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[s-wave-entertainment]

You're my friend now, we're buddies now :)

Hey, a lot of unneeded character psychoanalysis is exactly what I exist for and these silly little robots have been the source of my serotonin for like a good 8 months now HAHA

I'm surprised more people don't think of them as sisters tbh? I understand that a lot of people like to ship them (any Jessa shippers on my page absolutely no shade, you do you bestie <3) but to me it's a very familial bond. Like, Tessa said herself that she's "only ever ever yakked to robots," which has lead me to two conclusions:

A) Tessa was homeschooled and Literally had no human friends because she Never Got Out Of The Manor, and

B) The drones were literally the only people she knew how to talk to, how to confide in.

Now we all know that the Elder Elliots™️ Sucked Ass (though there's apparently evidence to suggest that James sucked slightly less) but we know at the very least Tessa was straight up scared of her mother - with decent reason, because she fucking CHAINS HER UP IN HER ROOM for minor grievances (SHE'S LITERALLY YOUR KID WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE CAN'T TAKE HER FRIENDS INTO THE BALLROOM WHILE IT'S ALL BEING SET UP-). And when your parents suck but at least you constantly have three people around you like All The Time, my brain perceives this as "Ah, Tessa had a sibling relationship with all four of them."

And yes, I did say four. Tessa loved Cyn once, but we're talking about Tessa and J rn. I'll get to Cyn's whole thing later.

What I'm trying to say here is that Tessa actively feared at least one parent, and shit hit the fan all the time. Who do you talk to when you can't talk to your parents and shit hits the fan? Your siblings (if you have them). So in my little brain, they were sisters. ...And I've got a little more evidence, if I may present to the court:

Your honor, what we have here is the drawing from Ep. 5 that N pulled out of the dog encyclopedia as the quote "Us as lizards. J drew herself." left his mouth.

Lemme harken on that last line. "J drew herself."

Do you see what's wrong with this picture, good jury? That's right - take a good look at J. She isn't a drone in this drawing. She's human.

Now this might very well be just a silly gag from Liam, but me and my delulu, we gotta use this to get a good look at J. Everyone else drew themself as a lizard. J drew herself as human. In my personal opinion, I gotta admit - I think she wished she was one.

HEAR ME OUT, hear me out - her parents, namely Louisa, looked down on her because she's a drone. A scrapped drone, at that. She was insulted, scoffed at, and all around held in low regard. I mean, need I remind the court of Louisa's quote "We will not entertain your dumpster pets."

She doesn't see them as anything more than tools in her own possession, pets under Tessa's. And she said they specifically wouldn't "entertain" them. Call me crazy, but I think that implies TESSA was more than welcome to be "entertained" that night (initially, anyway-), but her drones? Hard no. And J, hates this!

She cares,,, So Deeply for her. This is a personal headcanon, but in my mind she was found by Tessa first - hence their bond, since she does seem closest to J. And not being allowed to do things with her - on top of being downright hated - may have made J wish that she could be human. That way, no one would mind if she was always around when Tessa was. She could be there for her all the time - whenever she needed her, not just when she was "allowed" to be about. Maybe she'd even be able to stand up for her - to keep her from being chained up and hurt so often. Too true that Louisa orders drone decommissioning for the simplest of offenses, but a human isn't so easily killed. And certainly then, if she lived as Tessa did, maybe her words would hold more gravity. And maybe she could really truly help her.

Anyway all this to say I KNOW J has a heart, I know she has one. It isn't so easily shown, like N's is, but it's in there. If for no one else, than for Tessa. And the second she realizes that Tessa is really gone, we may finally see that heart again. Ablaze with vengeance, yes, but it would give her what she's been missing: a good, solid character. Something we need to root for her.

Come on Liam, you brought her back for a reason, let me see her for who she really is-

Talk of Murder Drones Ep. 7 for new watchers if you find yourself on my page!!

Alrighty Tumblr user kit-kat-jo, your wish is my command.

You're exactly right - the only thing I think could PROPERLY redeem J is the realization that she was wrong and she has been duped, that that is not her Tessa; that's not the girl she thinks she loves. And J does love Tessa, I will die on this hill. The only person we've ever seen J soften around is Tessa back at the mansion - Tessa is the ONLY PERSON that we've ever seen J look concerned about. And that's totally valid - the only reason J was even in the mansion (the way we saw her anyway) is because Tessa saved her. She was marked for disassembly; whatever last strike she could have had was already done. And we all already know any drone with a "marked for disassembly" band is one that Tessa saved from the scrapyard.

If J realizes that this isn't her (it would be even better if she realized that she's the one who killed her), that it isn't the company she's been serving and it never has been, then JUST MAYBE we'll see that spark - the 180 we need to finally root for her as a character. Now knowing the truth, she'll reject the Solver and her old ways in hopes of blowing the bastard to smithereens - and finally avenging her fallen sister, whom she hadn't realized she'd lost.

And I do genuinely hope I get to see that for her. I WANT to like J, I WANT to want to see her succeed, but right now? She has no character. And I'm sorry to say it (no I'm not), but literally all J has done for the series is antagonize N, antagonize Uzi, become Solver Lite™️, Die, and serve as a minor plot device via the arrival of the ship that N will likely hijack in episode 8 since he now has the keys; and serve as a teeny bit of comic relief via Equity Partnership. She is a Literal Corporate Drone, and while that's hilarious, it has little to no effect on my feelings for her as a character (or lack thereof).

I beg and I pray that J will realize the truth one way or another, and we finally get to see her for who she could be. We know she cared about Tessa, there's a fucked up little heart in there somewhere. And that's not even an edgy teen hyperbole a joke, y'all remember episode 2.

Anyway. Yeah. I really don't like J right now but if Episode 8 finally lets J realize all that's happened, all that she's done and been forced to do, that will likely change in a... Heartbeat-

Okay sorry I'm done-

[sagechanoafterdark]

Turn that Frown Upside Down

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

Warning: Language, suggested sexual situations

Word Count: 585

Synopsis: Ransom's in a mood and that just won't do.

A/N: Hope you guys like this little snippet that I've had sitting in my drafters forever. It's got no spoilers for my Held For Ransom series but I've been thinking about Ransom and Marshmallow for a few weeks now and I'm working on their final chapter now. I'm looking forward to sharing it with everyone soon!

Haven't read Held For Ransom? Check it out here.

You’d been calling his name for the last five minutes but Ransom was nowhere to be seen, you’d expected to find him preening in front of the bathroom mirror given his interview with GMA was at the top of the hour. But he was strangely absent, finally, you’d found him in the study.

Brow furrowed as he glanced between pages, a pen in hand as he went over sections of his newest manuscript and huffed.

“Hey handsome,” you cooed, sliding onto the surface of the desk. “What’s got you in a tizzy?”

Ransom scoffed, hands throwing the pen down on the table and dropping the papers in his hand. “I’m not in a tizzy,” he snapped, wincing once he’d heard his tone.

Pursing your lips you gave an unconvinced hum, leaning forward your fingers trailing over the soft blue material of his sweater as you slid into his lap. Ransom's hands sliding up your thighs and lifting the hem of your shirt before the chill of his pinky ring met your warm skin.

“I know what will put a smile on your face,” you said with a note of childish glee in your voice. Leaning forward against him your hands slid over the planes of his chest, noting the twitch of a grin at the corner of his mouth as your lips hovered over his own.

“What’s that,” he breathed, naturally leaning up to kiss you but you pulled back at the last moment making Ransom grunt in disappointment. But those blue eyes didn’t leave yours as your mouth hovered teasingly over his own.

“Let me suck your dick.”

The sputtering laugh he gave made you grin from ear to ear, your arms wound around his neck as Ransom tried in vain to escape your pecking mouth. “Please Ransom,” you pleaded in between kisses that just missed his mouth. “Please let me suck your dick?”

“God damn it! I don't have time for this Marshmellow,” he grunted, feeling your soft lips press against the corner of his mouth over and over again but not giving him what he wanted.

Putting on your best puppy dog face you pulled back, looking at him with a pouty mouth and your best doe eyes. “Please Ransom? Promise I’ll suck you so good.”

He didn’t stop you as your hands began to unbuckle his belt, sliding to the floor in front of him on your knees and pulling at the zipper on his slacks, “We have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Oh sweetheart,” you teased, hand stroking up his firm length through the material and smirking up at him. “I only need three.”

“Our next guest is joining us live from his New England home. Most of the country knows him from his break-out novel, Last Rights. His greatly anticipated new novel, No Day To Die, set to be released later this year and is already climbing the literary presale lists, please welcome New York Times Best Selling author Hugh Drysdale!”

There was a pause as applause filtered into the study before the host continued.

“Thank you for joining us Mr. Drysdale it’s a pleasure to have you.”

Ransom was the picture of casual professionalism as he smiled back at the webcam. Sure to slide forward a little more his belt jangling around his ankles as his eyes cut to you briefly. Catching your finger dabbing at the edge of your mouth off-screen as you blew him a kiss and left the room.

“I assure you the pleasure is all mine,” he replied with a smirk.

[lustbile]

Xiaojun wanted nothing more than to listen to what you were saying, and with his friends drunk bodies scattered pass out around the living room, you’d think he’d had nothing to distract him now. But unfortunately for you both, he had gotten a little dizzy so he had chosen to sit on the floor, and after you had taken your pants off while complaining that it should be a crime to be forced to wear pants after drinking, you perched yourself on the edge of the kitchen table with a soft peach stuck between your teeth.

Which should be fine, he had no issue having to strain to hear your happy rambling, but the placements had given him a perfect view of the soft space between your legs.

Your relationship with him had always been a little different, you’re not sure when it happened, but one day you and him started exchanging flirty glances. Flirty glances turned to flirty words, and eventually even suggestive jokes and taunts. And once that threshold was crossed, Xiaojun couldn’t get making the jokes a reality out of his head. His current view, wasn’t helping.

“Are you even listening Dejun?” you ask, the addition of his name pulling him out of his trance and making him jump. Even through your rambling about how you’ve been thinking about finally getting a puppy, the sweet fruit filling your belly had sobered you up enough to notice that his eyes had gone blank right in the middle of your sentence about where you’d be able to fit a dog crate in your apartment.

“Huh what? Yes!” he shakes his head as the words tumble out, his sudden raise in volume making a body that’s laying close by turn. Whoever it was, the darkness of the room making it only a shadow but based on the size maybe Lucas?, only shifted a bit before settling back down.

“Yeah right. I can tell when I’ve lost you,” you state so matter of factly it through a mouthful of peach that it throws him off. He didn’t think you’d be able to tell something like that, “so what is so important on your mind that you don’t wanna listen to me talk about puppies?”

“No no it’s.... it’s nothing,” he shakes his head again before his eyes shift down, the idea that whatever it was would make him not want to look at you making your chest tighten a bit.

“Bull, it’s not nothing. Tell me what’s up.”

‘Easy for you to say,’ he thinks to himself, the idea of having this conversation getting even more stressful when he chances a peak up and sees you had your lips wrapped tightly around the pit of your once existing fruit, your tongue working the get any remaining pulp.

“Do you know how distracting you are,” the breathless what he speaks tells you that the words weren’t said with total intention.

“How am I distracting you, from myself?” you ask with a soft laugh, you hand lifting and your tongue peaking out to lick at the left over juice left on your skin.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” he asks, his voice falling soft again as he sits upon his knees, the skin of his cheek brushing against the knee of your leg that hangs off the edge of the table.

“You can tell me to stop,” he locks his eyes onto yours as his hand begins to trail up your other leg, the gentleness of his touch making a shiver wrack up your spine, “but I don’t think that you’d want me to.”

“Dejun...” you trail off, not interested in telling him to stop in the slightest, but still unaware of what you should say.

“So pretty” he mutters to himself, his lips brushing your skin as his fingers get closer and closer to the warming space between your legs.

Your breathing is shallow, your brain doing leaps as it tries to catch up to its surroundings. Your hand moves without you even thinking, and it only clicks that your brushing the tips of your middle and ring finger over his bottom lip when, at the same moment his middle finger pushes against the wet spot forming on your underwear, he take the digits between his lips and laves his tongue over them.

“So um, ... is this what was distracting you?” you want to kick yourself for asking, but it was hard to get the words structured out in your brain when you have a boy you’ve been smitten with for so long sucking on your fingers and petting at you through your underwear.

“Everything you do is distracting,” he says blatantly and without thought after letting your dampened fingers fall from his lips, “do you think you taste as sweet at the peach on your hand?”

His question makes your heart race, you almost feel like you’re not even still on planet earth as everything happens so fast, the only thing that pulls you back down to earth is a quiet cough from the living room and his teeth gently nipping at your palm.

“I dunno,” you want desperately to play along, be as naturally alluring as the boy knelt between your thighs, but instead your flustered and hot, your ability to keep up with the flirting being thrown in the trash now that your being hit with a reality check.

“Will you let me find out?”

“Yes, please,” you nod eagerly as your hips start to tilt towards him, the stuttering motions making the fabric catch on the wood below you and start to tug them down.

“So sweet asking so politely,” his praises make your face warm even more, your nails digging into the table as he curls his middle finger around the fabric and pull the garment down your thighs, “but promise you’ll be nice and quiet cause wasted or not, their ears still work.”

“I promise,” you squeak quietly before you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, your legs falling apart and bruising against the edge after he shoves the fabric into the pocket of his pants.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he looks at you with a soft smile. His hand pulls away from his pocket to push his index finger against his lips in a shushing motion, before he leans in a places a soft kiss against your skin.

The muscles of your thighs twitch, a sharp gasp pulling into your lungs at the tingling brush of stimulation. He immediately looks up, a faux look of disappointment on his face at the noise you make, and with a pouting smile, you mirror his shushing motion in hopes to get him to continue.

He only shakes his head in endearment in response before he’s back to the task at hand, his hands grabbing and pushing your thighs open before the flat of his tongue is pushing against you and dragging against your dripping entrance.

“Fuck Jun,” your brain feels like it melts, as well as the muscles winding up your back, but your still aware enough to keep your words quiet so he won’t pull away. But the way he licks slowly over you clit before pulling the flesh into his mouth and sucking, makes holding back even a squeak almost impossible.

The soft wet noises that raise from below you makes you incredibly aware of how quiet the house had gotten since everyone had passed out. You had turned the music down to only a rumble, hoping the soft rhythm would help the guys sleep better regardless of their bed for the night being couches, recliners, and the floor. There was also a soft uneven rumbling of a few of their snores and grunts here and there, but without the whispers of your and Xiaojun’s conversation, it felt like the universe could hear him indulging in your arousal if it would only strain its ear.

The moan you let out is comparable to a purr, and as you rock you hips against his face, your fingers sink into his hair and you slowly lean back until your laying flush on the wooden surface.

He follows your movements with ease, his shoulders raising as he puts his whole body into lavishing every inch of your sensitive skin.

His hands tickle at the skin of your stomach as they trail up your sides, the sensation making your breathing pick up and your body start to squirm. He doesn’t seem effected by any of your moving though, as he welcomes you squeezing his head gently with your thighs with a deep groan and his hands squeezing roughly at your swelled chest.

You whine into the thick air of the room, bordering on breaking your promise to be quiet when he continues to groan into you and scrape his blunt nails down your skin and against your stiffening nipples.

Your eyes begin to roll back as you feel the promise of an orgasm start to crawl up your spine, the flat of your foot pressing into the table top while the other pushes against his back with your toes curling into and tugging at his shirt.

“Please, please,” it’s only a whisper, but it’s enough for him to pinch at your side in warning. Though his disappointment is obviously faux, when you meet his eyes and they sparkle playfully as he silently begs you to let go.

He knows you staying silent is lost cause, and he’s come to embrace it, when you back starts to curve away from the table. A grumbly moan shakes your chest and he only laps at you faster and you start to shiver against him.

Your head is still a bit fuzzy from the night that now lived behind you, but it only adds to the overwhelming amount of pleasure that takes a hold of you. His tongue feels like heaven and the orgasm that rocks through you is one of best you’ve ever had. You can’t help but scold yourself for taking so long to let him take his claim between your legs.

It’s not until you harshly pull at his hair, his thick eyebrows scrunching together in response to the dull pain, does he finally pull his lips and tongue from your skin, a lewd popping noise following as he detaches from your sensitive clit.

You don’t let him speak before your pressing your still glossy lips against his, the taste of your arousal mixing from his mouth with the still lingering taste of the peach in yours as your tongues brush one another’s, and the flavor makes you both happily groan.

“Let me take you to my room,” it’s not a question but a plead that he lets out against your lips. A plead you answer with a fast nod of the head and desperate hands that grab at his clothes.

And with clumsy feet and groping fingers, you run with him to the room, the scattered drunken bodies of your friend tripped over, but mostly forgotten.

[can0fwworms]

Id like to think that Ghost retires and adopts a retired military dog

[musette22]

Local museum volunteer Chris explaining all the items and history facts to teacher Sebastian and his 20 kids on a school trip or to single dad Sebastian and his twins (one who is really into it and ask a lot of "but why?" And the other one who just sticks his fingers up his nose and yawns lmao)

Okay so I was just on a walk and I started thinking about this ask again (I am so so so sorry for how long it took me to reply to this, I suck wow) because I couldn’t get that new pic of Seb looking like a literal DILF out of my head, but I couldn’t remember the specifics so what came out is slightly different from what you suggested but not much – hope you still like it (I personally screamed into my fist multiples times while thinking about this – I’m furious at how cute this little scenario is, thank you so so much for this!)

Disclaimer: I literally wrote this just now so it’s unbeta’d and probably riddled with nonsense, but I hope you guys like nonetheless!  <3

*********************

“Hi, guys! Welcome to the Concord Museum. My name is Chris and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.”

Chris eyes the little family – a father and two young kids – standing in front of him in the entrance hall of the bite-sized museum, then makes a show of looking around the otherwise empty hall. “Seems like it’s a quiet one today, so you’ll have me all to yourself!”

The father smiles, his sparkling, blue-grey eyes crinkling in the corners in a way that Chris shouldn’t be thinking of as ‘adorable’, but does nonetheless.

“Fantastic,” the man says warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris. This is Margot,” – he gestures to the girl of about eight standing next to him – “and this little guy here is David,” he adds, lightly bouncing the three or four-year-old, curly haired boy on his hip. David gives Chris a wide eyed look before promptly burying his face in his father’s neck. “He’s a little shy,” the dad says fondly.

“That’s fine,” Chris tells them. With a smile, he ducks his head to try and catch David’s eye. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. I’m a little shy myself sometimes, you know.”  

“I’m not shy,” Margot pipes up.

“No,” her dad agrees with a chuckle, “you certainly are not.”

Chris turns his eyes back to their father’s face. “And your name..?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man says, “I’m Sebastian.” He holds out his hand for Chris to shake, warm and dry with long, elegant fingers that fit nicely against Chris’s own, studier ones.

Sebastian, Chris thinks. Perfect name for a perfect guy. The term ‘DILF’ flashes unbidden through Chris’s mind – wildly inappropriate, given the circumstances, but oh so accurate. Sebastian has a sweet, charming smile, incredible bone structure, and dark, wavy hair, swept up in a quiff-like style that manages to make him look both sophisticated and a little boyish at the same time. There’s a hint of grey at his temples as well as in his beard that has Chris placing him at maybe two or three years older than himself.

“New York?” Chris guesses, as he reluctantly lets go of Sebastian’s hand.

“That’s right,” Sebastian nods. “Well, formerly, anyway. We just moved to the area, actually.”

“Oh, really? What brought you all the way out here?”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair; a nervous habit, perhaps. “Oh, um. My ex-wife got a job in Boston last year, and I didn’t want to be too far from her and the kids, so I decided to follow suit. Only moved down here last month. This is my first full weekend with these guys at my new place, so I thought I’d take them out to do something cultural, learn a little about the local history, y’know?”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of that here,” Chris assures him. “In fact,” he adds sheepishly, “that’s kinda all we've got.”

Sebastian laughs, causing Chris’s brain to glitch, which is probably why the next thing that comes out of his mouth is – “Divorce, huh? I’m sorry, that must’ve been tough.”

When Sebastian doesn’t answer straight away, Chris wants to kick himself for running his big, stupid mouth. As usual. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes hastily. “That’s none of my business. Just tryin’ to make small talk, but I always seem to forget I’m really bad at that. Just forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian assures him, flashing Chris a quick smile. “Thank you. These things are never easy, but it’s better this way, you know?”

“They’re not fighting or anything,” Margot chimes in again, from a few feet below. “Mommy and daddy only got divorced because mommy’s a girl and daddy likes boys better than girls. Right, daddy?"

Well. Chris tries not to be too obvious about glancing at Sebastian’s face to see his reaction to that bombshell his daughter just dropped, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

Sebastian closes his eyes for a moment as if praying for strength. “That's right, sweetheart,” he says with a grimace. “But I'm sure Chris doesn't need to hear about all that."

Chris begs to differ – he’s actually extremely interested in hearing about all this, but before he has a chance to say anything in reply, Margot squares her jaw and crosses her football jersey-clad arms.

“Why not?” she asks defiantly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Some girls just like girls and some boys like boys, it’s totally normal. It’s not prola- probu –" She sighs in frustration, looking up at her dad, who’s watching her with something like pride on his handsome face.

“Problematic?”

“Yeah,” Margot concurs, “not probametic.”  

Chris hums in agreement. “It’s not, you’re absolutely right. I’ll tell you what,” he tells her conspiratorially, “I happen to like boys better, too.”

Margot’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You do?”

“I do.”

Suddenly, Margot’s little face lights up, her shrewd eyes flitting to her dad’s face for a second, then back to Chris. “Do you like my dad?”

“Margot,” Sebastian cuts in, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “That’s enough, honey.” When he tuns back to Chris to give him an apologetic look, Chris can’t help but notice the slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry about that. She’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find me the perfect man ASAP, or I’ll waste away or something.”

Chris laughs, throwing back his head in genuine mirth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” he assures them, then claps his hands together to change the precarious subject. “So, who’s ready to learn a little bit about what living in Concord was like over a hundred years ago?”

******

Chris always enjoys volunteering at the museum – it’s nice to give something back to the community that’s been his home for his entire life, and to chat to visitors from all over who have come to visit the land of Little Women, among other things – but what Chris likes best is when he gets to show kids around the place. Some of them need to be won over (after all, a dusty old museum isn’t quite as exciting as a trip to Disney World), but others are instantly captivated by the strange objects and old-timey atmosphere – Sebastian’s kids, fortunately, seem to fall in the latter category.

There’s one room in particular that’s an invariably a favorite with kids – the one that houses the old children’s toys. Trains, dolls and dollhouses, most of them made from wood, all arranged in a colorful parade, with a few screens set up in front of the glass display cases on which kids can watch animations of the toys being used. To Chris’s delight, Margot and David are both immediately taken with the display, David pressing his nose against the glass while Margot fires off question after question that Chris answers patiently and to the best of his ability.

“You sure know a lot about them,” Sebastian remarks, not without a hint of admiration, once Chris has finished explaining the mechanics of the miniature train set.

“Ah.” Chris rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m something of a toy enthusiast myself. I’ve actually got a carpentry workshop – that’s my real job,” he explains. “I’m just a volunteer here – and I dabble in some toy making sometimes, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding. I used to want to be a toy maker when I was a kid, you know,” he says wistfully. “Probably just saw Pinocchio one too many times, but it just seemed like the best job in the world to me, at the time.”

“It kinda is,” Chris grins at Sebastian, getting lost in his dancing grey eyes for a moment. “So what did you end up doing for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a journalist. I love it, don’t get me wrong. It’s enriching, challenging. But there’s just something about working with your hands, creating something tangible, something useful…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Chris nods. He bites his lip, hesitating for just a moment before deciding to bite the bullet. “Hey, I don’t know if you guys have plans after this, but my shift ends in a few minutes. I live pretty close, maybe a ten minute drive – if you want, I could show you my workshop? Maybe the kids can try out some of the things I’ve been working on, see if they’re actually any fun to play with?”

There’s an excited collective gasp from the kids, both of them immediately turning big, hopeful eyes on their father. “Oh, daddy,” Margot pleads, tugging on his sleeve. “Can we go see the workshop, pleaaase?”  

Chris tries to ignore the way his stomach drops when Sebastian visibly hesitates.

“I don’t know, guys.” Sebastian looks back at Chris. “I don't want to intrude. It’s almost dinner time on a Saturday. I’m sure you’ve got plans, maybe with your partner..?”

Oh, Chris thinks, chest expanding with hope. He shakes his head. “No partner,” he says, holding Sebastian’s gaze. “Just a dog.”

“A dog?” Margot squeals. “Oh my god, daddy, he’s got a dog. We have to go.”

Sebastian chuckles, rolling his eyes. "They've been hounding me about a dog for months, excuse the pun. I want one too, but I'm just not sure I'm home enough.”

Chris nods sympathetically. “Yeah, it can be tricky if you work full-time, but there’s usually a solution for this kind of thing, in my experience.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Margot interrupts, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“He’s called Dodger,” Chris tells her, unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he talks about his beloved, four legged-rescue.

From Sebastian’s other side, a small voice suddenly joins in. “Like the one from Oliver?” asks David. His big, brown eyes are wide as he stares up at Chris.

“That’s right,” Chris confirms, dropping to his haunches to level the playing field a little. “Exactly like the one from Oliver. You like that movie, huh?”

David nods, looping one arm around one of his dad’s long legs while clearly fighting the urge to hide behind him completely. “It’s my favorite,” he mutters, then quickly sticks his thumb in his mouth to signal the end of the conversation.

“Really?” Chris asks, beaming at him. “It’s my favorite, too!”

David actually smiles at that, doing an excited little wiggle on the spot. “Daddy, can we go see Dodger, please?” he asks his dad, not bothering to remove his thumb from his mouth.

From his spot on the floor, Chris looks up Sebastian too, probably looking just as hopeful as the kids are – maybe even more so.

Smiling, Sebastian shakes his head. “Sure, buddy,” he laughs, ruffling David’s hair. “How could I resist all these cute little faces, huh?”

There’s a chorus of cheers from the kids that gives Chris a much-needed moment to recover from the euphoria of hearing Sebastian call him cute. Well, sort of.

“Alright,” Chris says, getting to his feet again. “I’ll just go grab my things. Meet you guys in the parking lot?”

“Sounds good.”

Chris nods and is about to head in the direction of the staff room, when Sebastian halts him with a hand on his arm. Chris stops in his tracks, swallowing as he tears his gaze away from Sebastian’s elegant hand on his bicep, back to his face.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, giving him a look from under his eyelashes that can only be described as coy. “I really appreciate this, you know.”

Holding Sebastian’s gaze, Chris lifts a hand to cover Sebastian’s with his own, giving it a quick squeeze. “It’s my pleasure,” he replies honestly. “Trust me.”

Smiling, Sebastian bites his lip, no doubt noticing the way Chris’s eyes flicker down to his mouth when he does. “I do.”

Chris’s foolishly romantic heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“See,” Margot says suddenly from beside them, breaking the moment and sounding awfully smug about it, too. “Not prolametic at all.”

Chris barks out a laugh while Sebastian covers his eyes with his hand. “Whatever you do, never have kids.”  

“Oh, I dunno,” Chris chuckles, giving Margot a wink and David’s hair a quick ruffle. “I kinda like yours.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “Alright, guys. Let’s go find your jackets and we’ll go see what Chris has in store for us, huh?”

[bubblyhoney]

picnic bitch

warnings: crude language duh, suggestive (not explicit) content, an eminem reference

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 1156

A/N: a continuation of a detail from my boyfriend!sapnap head canon :D

-

The breeze wafts across your face, moving a lock of hair to tickle on your cheek. You swat a hand up at your cheek and furrow your brows.

The weather today has been fairly pleasant and not too sweltering, thank God. The park is busy this time of afternoon, but you both snagged a spot underneath a huge tree in the southwest corner of the field.

“Pass me a strawberry, please, baby,” he mumbles from above you. You glance up at him, one eye squinted, and reach for the container of strawberries. “Feed me.” He smirks and drops his mouth open, tongue out. You just roll your eyes and place a berry into his mouth, careful to not get his spit on you. You settle back into his lap, content.

Today was the designated picnic day. You try to have a couple during the summer just because it’s so lovely to sit outside, relax, and eat, but you’d already had about six since the start of summer. They mostly consist of you feeding Sapnap fruit and laying with your head on his lap, stretched out and comfortable. Today you were sporting clothes all loose and blue as the sky, wanting to be stylish but not too sweaty. He’d gone for sweat-shorts and a green flannel over a white shirt: cute. Very cute. So cute you can’t help but stare and feel your cheeks flush.

Shuffling his legs, he readjusts his arms and hums as he settles back into the bark of the tree. Sweet music plays lightly in the background, courtesy of your portable speaker sitting perfectly on top of the picnic basket.

“You look ethereal,” is what you can’t help but to whisper. You peek one eye open and stare up at his relaxed face. He rolls his eyes but smiles down at you, tips of his ears pink.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, shy. You just huff and roll up onto an elbow, reaching for your lemonade. It’s tart on your tongue and you make a pleased noise at the taste, swallowing. He just watches you.

“What time are you making dinner?” You fold up onto your knees, raising your eyebrows as you screw the cap back onto your bottle.

“Oh, am I making dinner now?” Teasing, he reaches for your arms and you accede, letting him tug you onto his lap. “It’s salad night.” Making a face, he strokes up and down your bicep, both soothing and causing goosebumps.

“I thought you liked salad night, babe.” His hair is soft and nice on your palm when you reach a hand up to pet his hair. He stills and lets you, but shrugs after a moment.

“I like salad, but never as a full meal. Can we make spaghetti?”

“Okay, yeah,” you agree, shuffling forward on his lap. “That sounds good. I’ll be expecting homemade pasta, Chef.”

“Oh, yeah?” He brushes a wind-disturbed tuft of hair out of your eyes. Full lips split into a smile as he leans back into the tree, eyes closed. “Sounds like a lot of effort, sweetheart.”

Your skin tingles brightly at the pet name. A beam of sunlight breaks through the green leaves of the tree and stripes diagonal across his calm expression. When you said ethereal, you meant it.

The serene mood, all breezy and gentle music, breaks when you open your mouth. As usual.

“Hey, are you Mom’s spaghetti?” You pause for a second and let your hand drop onto his collarbone. “Because you make my knees weak and my palms sweaty.” The pick-up line takes a second to hit before his eyes snap open. Bowing forward, he makes a retching sound into your lap.

“Oh my God,” he breathes, cheeks puffy and strained as he holds in a laugh. “That was actually awful. You should be ashamed.” Shrugging, you relax back into his thighs with a sigh.

“I thought it was pretty good, actually. You’re in love now; I just beguiled you. Get beguiled.” Your voice is teasing, poking, as you play with the bottle of lemonade in your hands.

“I don’t think an Eminem reference has as much power as you think it does,” he says simply, and tugs you closer into his lap. One hand slides up to your neck, just resting, before he’s pulling you forward, inches away from his mouth. “But I do love you.” His lips slide easily against yours, tasting your chapstick and breathing you in. You taste like lemon and sugar. His other hand rests comfortably in the curve of your waist, squeezing intermittently.

You take a few minutes to just kiss. Not making out, not grinding or teasing. It’s peaceful out here, away from families, so you take your time.

It’s the second a drop of water plops right onto your shoulder that you tense. Pulling away, you raise an empty palm up in the air. Drop. Drop.

“It’s raining,” you practically wail, and clamber out of his lap. The sky has turned an ugly grayish blue, dark clouds that came out of seemingly nowhere looming in the distance. He huffs, irritated, and starts to gather your stuff up. The strawberries go into the basket, as do the sandwiches, and you toss your lemonade in as well. You stand to fold the picnic blanket and shove it down into a tan tote bag.

The park is rapidly clearing of people. Teenagers at the skating park hop on their bikes, adults walking their dogs scatter in the parking lot to their respective vehicles, and you two scramble to collect your things and make a dash for your car. It’s full on pouring when you yank open the passenger seat and climb clumsily in.

“This sucks!” He yells over the downpour, and slams closed the driver’s door. It’s much more quiet in here, you realize, and tilt your face up to the sunroof. You’d peeled back the covering on the way here “to let the sunlight in” and now it’s getting pelted with large, warm raindrops. Sapnap moves in his seat, getting situated, and starts the car with a rumble. It’s also fucking hot in here.

“This is not how I was thinking our picnic was going to end,” he pouts. “I thought we would actually make it to the cake.” A cartoonish frown appears on his lips and you melt, aw-ing. You reach a thumb to rub at his bottom lip.

“It’s okay, we can finish the cake when we get home. Spoil our dinner.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he huffs out a laugh, pulling his seatbelt to its lock.

“I doubt we’ll make it home without pulling over and shoving our faces with it,” he scoffs. A smirk grows on your face and he glances warily at it, shifting to reverse out of the parking spot. “What’s that face for?”

“Are you familiar with the idea of whipped cream play?”

Yeah, the cake doesn’t make it home.

-

A/N: ask or send me stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments are extremely welcome and even encouraged

[taeescript]

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au 

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!) 

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (:  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it 

part one || part three 

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

  You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

  “So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

  Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

  You tip the shot back with no chase.

  “You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

  The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

  “It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

  “You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

  “I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

  “And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

  “Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

  He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

  You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

  “I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

  “You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

  Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

  You shake your head.

  “Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

  Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

  He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

  “What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

  He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

  The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

  “Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

  “No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

  You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

  “Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

  “God help me.”

  The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

  His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

  You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.  

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

  You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

  “She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

  He offers you his water to drink.

  “I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

  “Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

  “We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

  He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

  “Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

  At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

  Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

  “It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

  “Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

  She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

  Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

  You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

  She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

  You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

  He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

  Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

  Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

  “Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

  He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

  You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

  Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

  Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

  “Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

  Seokjin blinks to refocus.

  “The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

  “Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

  “The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

  Junho grumbles something intelligible.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

  Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

  “It’s been going...”

  Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

  10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

  10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

  10:18pm “Real good**”

  Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

  10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

  Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

  10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

  The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

  “Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

  Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

  “It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

  His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

  Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

  10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

  A moment of silence.

  10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

  10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

  The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

  Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

  10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

  “What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

  The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

... 

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

  You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

  “Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

  In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

  “I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

  He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

  “Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

  You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

... 

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

  Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

  “You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

  He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

  “Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

  A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

  Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

  He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself, 

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

  “You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

  He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

  “You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

  Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

  The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

  Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

  Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.  

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

... 

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

  You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

  “No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

  “You suck at metaphors.”

  You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

  “As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

  He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

  “No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

  There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

  “Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

  “Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

  “My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

  “Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

  “Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

  You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

  “I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

  Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

  “So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

  “Please stop reminding me.”

  “Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

  Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

  “Um… I, uh…”

  “What?”

  You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back. 

  “I’ve got plans tonight.”

  “Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

  “Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

  “He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”  

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

  “He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

  Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

  “Sorry again,” you apologize.

  “Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

  The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

  Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

... 

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

  “You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

  There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

  “The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

  He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

  “Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

  You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

  “Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

  Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

  “Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

  He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

  You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

  “No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

  The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

  “Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

  You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

  Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

  Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

  You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

  Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

  “Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

  Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

  “You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

  “I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

  Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

  The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

  “You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

  He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

  Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

... 

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

  “He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

  Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

  “A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

  Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

  At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

  The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

  Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

  There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

  Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

  On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

  You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

  11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

  Smiling, you type in your response.

  12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

  12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

  12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

  12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

  12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

  12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

  You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

  Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

  Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

  “Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

  There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

  “You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

  Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

  “How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

  You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

  He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

  You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

  “You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

  You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

  Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

  Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

  “Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

  “Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

  And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

  “Are you a secret alcoholic?”

  You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

  Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

  “It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

  Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

  “Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

  “Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

  You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

  He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

  You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

  He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room. 

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

... 

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

  “This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

  Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

  “Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

  You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

  He smirks from the spot.

  You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

  “You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

  Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

  “Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

  “It’s still a stupid last name.”

  “It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

  “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

  Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

  He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

  You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

  “Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

  “Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

  He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

  He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

  Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

  You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

  You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

[kuronanox]

Accept MY Love - Zenon Zogratis

(Authors note: First off I really wanted to say thank you to everyone that has stuck around and enjoy my book! I’ve reached 20k! I know it may not be a lot but I’ve enjoyed writing black clover and it’s always nice to have support! And second this is my first time writing Zenon so if he’s a little OC... mind ya business haha)

She was given to him as a toy, his servant, slave. She didn't want to be labeled or cared for it, all she wanted was an escape plan. She was weak, a girl picked off the streets for her looks as she was told.

(Your Name) was sitting hugging her knees staring out of the window. The pale snow falling onto the ground effortlessly. "Women." Zenon says from across the room but she refused to look at him. After a few more minutes he roughly grabs her face and she struggles to pull away. "Don't touch me!" She screams as he quietly loses patience with her.

Zenon strikes her right cheek as she gasp and fell to the floor. The blood spilling from her mouth as she looks up to him in fear. "You monster, just get rid of me already! Kill me if you must!"

"Clean yourself up and lay in bed." He says before walking out.

Sniffling she cleans the wounds and takes a bath, the warm water was welcoming especially since the snow had been falling all day.

Taking the only belonging shes had left which was a few clothing and a personal journal she set it hidden under the bed.

Zenon doesn't say a word as he calms his head a bit.

This women had the nerve to defy him and all he could do was snap her neck to end it all.

"It's time for bed." He tells her as she carefully walks into the bed before he stops her. "This isn't the attire I gave you."

A fear comes across her face as she backs away from him. Zenon roughly tears her clothing off, they fall one by one as she picks up the pieces. "These were all I had left of home." She whispers as he hands her something more revealing to wear.

"You are to obey me."

(Your Name) angrily looks up to Zenon and slaps him across the face. "This gives you a reason to kill me now."

Zenon darkly smiles to himself. Oh how he liked to torture her.

"Bedtime." Is all he says and drags her into the bed next to him.

Zenon happened to walk past her home when he saw her. She was shining in the snow and her beauty was mesmerizing.

Carrying the fire wood for some elderly she was smiling kindly to them. Zenon was surprised how gentle he was feeling. He hated it. Why did this women make this affect on him?

He wanted her... no he needed her. For what? He had yet decided but he got what he wanted.

The way she smiled and effortlessly showed kindness was something he could never do. Zenon wanted that from her. That's when he decided she was going to be his.

Zenon was one to rarely sleep these days, he wasn't known to having a women in his bed unlike his brother. The first few nights she refused to sleep so he had to knock her out. Looking at her reflection from the moon her weight had drop dangerously low. The cold wind blew into the room as she shivered and turned away from him.

His body moved unwilling from his mind as he covered her with more blankets.

Zenon craved love, he didn't know how to describe the feeling. To be cherish or a warmth that was never settled in him. He wanted that affection from her yet everything he asked of her she refused.

Tracing her hair to her shoulders he kissed it softly till he craved her body and bit down harshly.

(Your Name) yelled in pain as he held her body close to his. Removing his teeth from her shoulder the thick blood fell as he licked them away. The look in his eyes scared her. He was enjoying giving her the pain.

"You are tempting women." Zenon lustfully whispers as she throws the covers off and tries to find the closest exit.

"At this point I don't even care how I die."

(Your Name) looks towards the window and back at Zenon. She tries to run out the window to end her misery in this room of his. Zenon wouldn't allow it as he grabs her back knocking her out cold.

That night Zenon dreamed of them as they happily lived together and how she was happy with him. He dreamt that they were making love from the pureness of their hearts. How hot she felt around him and the ecstasy they both felt from the closeness of their bodies.

Until it turned into a nightmare of her blood running thick in his hands as she laid lifeless in his arms. Her cold eyes staring up at him, blaming him for her death. She was trapped.

Zenon wakes up in cold sweat as he looks around to find her sleeping soundlessly again next to him. She was uncharacteristically cuddled up next to his body for warmth.

The next morning there was food laid out for her but no sign of Zenon, this was the best part of the day for her. She was alone and not being watched like a hawk. (Your Name) chows down the food, she was starving. The only time she refused to eat was when he ordered her to.

(Your Name) was curious to why he picked her, his brother Dante had many beautiful women surrounding him. Everytime she hoped he would trash her out already but he refuses each time she brings it up or if Dante tells him his 'toy' was boring.

"There has to be a reason."

The door opens as he walks in and changes out to more comfortable clothes. (Your Name) avoids his eyes staring at her as she clears her throat and set the empty tray out the bedroom.

Walking back to the window seat she watches the snow fall again. There was nothing to do, no fun. Her family was gone and she wouldn't dare try to talk to Zenon like she knew him.

"Are you not happy?" He asks her making his way to the window as she softly laughs and grits her teeth.

With venom in her voice she says "clearly I'm a prisoner and there's nothing to do here."

Zenon gently grabs her head and kisses her neck softly from behind.

"Stop it." She whispers as he lightly sucks on the precious skin.

"What will make you happy."

Her eyes widen as she turns her head to look back at him, he was emotionless. The look of his eyes held no warmth or comfort. It was as if he lived everyday to die.

"I want to leave! I want to go home! I'm sure there's other girls who would rather be in my position!" She raises her voice to Zenon as it slightly cracks from fear.

"She wants to leave me, I can't understand why she is so unhappy? I give her food, shelter and all the attention but she refuses everything!"

Zenon eyes grew dangerously dark as he kicked the chair across the room and dragged her to the bed wrapping his hand around her neck. She protested the whole way.

"Do I not give you everything you need?" He asks in a low voice as she swallows the lump in her throat and he finally loosens the grip around her neck massaging her bruised hickey.

"I don't want everything Zenon." She whispers back with tears falling from her eyes.

He lets go and kisses her tears away as he leaves the room locking it behind him.

(Your Name) finally manages to pull herself together when he left the room, her hands were shaking from the anxiety she got from his close they were. Truthfully she was scared he was going to choke her to death. Even though she wanted him to kill her she didn't have the guts for it.

Zenon was with his other two siblings as they mocked him in his misery.

"I told you to get rid of her, she obviously a nuisance to you." Dante says with a smirk as he shakes his head in disappointment.

"Or she can be my toy and I can torture her till she's crying to just end her life." Vanica suggest with amusement in her voice.

Zenon mentally rolls his eyes at his siblings, he was always the different one from the three.

"Don't tell me she's already begged you to kill her." Dante smiles deviously at Zenon who doesn't usher a word but let his silence speak for itself.

"Ahaha brother you sure are a cruel one!" Vanica says licking her lips before leaving the two behind.

"So what are you going to do? I suggest throwing her out in the snow and let the starving dogs get her."

Zenon gives Dante a icy glare as he makes his leave. Going to his sibling for help was not the brightest idea.

Back in the room (Your Name) was laying in bed and reading a book that Zenon had in his shelfs. It wasn't completely boring, the story she was reading at least but being trapped was driving her crazy. He walks in as she tenses up a bit.

Sitting beside her on the bed she backs away from him slightly.

They stare at each other in silence as she turns towards her book once more.

"You can't leave." He tells her as she covers her face with the book. She wanted to avoid his sorrowful gaze.

"Why me?" She whispers as Zenon lowers the book from her face and traces her facial features.

"You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on. I have been enchanted by such beauty. I mean no harm to you but you refuse to accept me."

She looks at him sadly and holds his face.

"I can't give you what you need, I am terrified by you, if I am to be the light of your life it is not a gift but chosen by the heart."

Zenon holds her hand on his face before giving it a light kiss.

"Your fate as been determine, if I let you go my siblings will kill you but if you stay with me here in this room I can give you the ever most love in the world."

(Your Name) eyes fell, the light shining in them were gone. Did she want to be set free but die in the hands of his siblings are be in his company till she accepted his love.

She felt disgusted with herself as she answered him.

"I'll stay with you."

With a shaky voice he pulls her into his embrace as she fought to keep her tears in and he devilishly smiles to himself.