#i get worn out from just drawing at my desk with my tablet

[jawd]

i wish there was a way to draw that didnt involve drawing

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

teeth | i. rin

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader, marking, sexual tension, dry-humping, cumming through clothes, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.5k

✮ a/n ; a flash comm for @1bananabread. thank u for your patience!!! i tried to focus as best i could on tension.

this is a snippet so it won't show up in the main fic at any point!! it can be an extra in that way!!! and it is from the fujoverse tag on this blog - a blog au abt fujoshi + recovering neet reader and rin.

Across the room, you give Rin a look.  

One that he’s starting to recognize without trying to. It makes his jaw clench when he sees it. Big, wet eyes like a baby deer and the soft undertone of desperation. He’s becoming good at knowing your ticks, mostly against his will. How you chew your lip, how you tap the pen of your tablet, how you draw in a frenzied anxious way when you want something from him and don’t know how to open your mouth and ask.  

It’s irritating. But it’s going to get under his skin even more if you keep it up. 

“What.” He grits. You startle. Jump in your skin like you’re surprised he even noticed you, as if you’re not staring at him. You open your mouth, then close it. “Spit it out.”  

You look flustered. You always look that way. But right now you embody it. He can’t imagine what your request could be at this point that would incite this much embarrassment.  

By now, Rin has “helped” you with a number of things. Too many to recount and all of them too close, too personal for plausible deniability. Helping you take photos for references takes up a majority of your requests - but it always ends in something more. Rin tries mostly not to think about it. Not to think about where its led and how normal you still seem to act despite it.

The fact you keep making these requests reason enough to make him seethe. Just a little.  

You take a shaky breath and give Rin a look from above the frames of your glasses.  

“C-can I give you a hickey?” 

Rin pauses. Opens his mouth before he can even think about what the appropriate reply might be. His words come out like a hiss.  

“Why?”  

You seem surprised that he asks. That he cares to. That alone feels reason enough for him to shake some sense to you. Grab you by the shoulders until it clicks.  

(He doesn’t interrogate what it is that he wants to click for you. Just that he wishes it fucking would already.)  

“Well. Uhm.”  Your feet rub together under your desk. Woolen socks worn until they’re matter as you fidget endlessly. Rin holds his stare until you crumple just slightly under the weight of it. “There’s n-not a particular reason. It’s not for my book or anything, I just uhm—wanted to do it. To you,”  

There’s a brief moment there where the world stops spinning entirely. Rin breathes. A sharp, steadying breath. Chest tight, dizzy with an emotion that wells up from the depths of him. He can’t think of anything clever to retort with, or really any good way for him to respond. He sits across from you at a complete loss.  

The next words that come out of his mouth leave before he has a chance to make sense of them. He swallows a lump in his throat.  

“Fine,”  

Your eyes go wide again. Shocked like you weren’t the one who ask. Tension lingers in the air, but Rin can’t figure out what to do about it. How to settle it. He doesn't know if he fucking can.

“A-are you sure?”  

That’s the first time you’ve asked him that. Most of the time, you’re shameless in your asks. You do it for work, just work  - and it’s always Rin who ends up….going further. Because it frustrates him to see you cower over it. Rin is used to you, by now. How you have the demeanor and general anxiety of a small shelter dog. He’s been over it all already one hundred times but—

It’s like something clicks hearing you ask him that. If he's sure. You can be so thick. It’s not like Rin doesn’t fucking know. But it’s the first time it he realizes the brunt of it.

You two are on completely different pages about your relationship.  And he's pissed about it, but not at you. Not really.

“I wouldn’t say it was if it wasn’t,” 

You look so surprised for a minute he wants to bite you. Take his teeth and dig them into the place your pulse is just to see you squirm. It’s always like this with you but right now it feels like something searing. Pressed up right against his ribs and threatening to puncture his lungs.

“Are you gonna do it or not?” He snaps, meaner than he wants. You nod, movements stiff, and clamber onto your feet before walking his way. Rin watches as you approach him nervously. Your eyes meet and you hold his gaze.  

Then, without word, you crawl into his lap. Straddling him - just barely fitting over his wide frame as both of your knees end up on either side of his thigh. Rin watches you silently. Piercingly. Your movements are trembling.  

You kiss him first. This shocks him into total silence. He returns it just so you don’t pass out from nerves. It’s clumsy like he knew it would be but it’s the first time you’ve done completely of your own accord. Normally you ask him to kiss you, beg with teary eyes.  

But you’ve got both of them squeezed shut now, kissing him with your hands fisted at his chest. Something stirs in his jeans, and you yelp when it presses against you. You gasp, low and quiet.  

“You’re—“ 

“Shut up.”  

You nod. Keep kissing him, opening his mouth up to slide your tongue in. It’s sloppy and unpracticed. You have no grace whatsoever.

Rin feels himself get so hard he’s lightheaded.  

You pull away, gently kissing the corner of his mouth. Down the line of his jaw. Mimicking something he’s sure you’ve read in your stupid doujins at one time or another. He can feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves, feel the way your body shakes in his lap. How uncertain you are. There’s that feeling again. Gnashing, possessive, mean. Not that Rin has ever been someone especially saintly.

But it’s not cruelty he wants to expose you to. It’s something else, far more demanding.  

His hands find your hips in a single breath. Pushing you down onto his lap until your full weight is rested over his hard-on. You whine when he presses up against your core, clothed cunt protected through ratty PJs. Rin doesn’t say anything, buy you know better than to stop now.  

Kissing down slowly, sweetly - you scrape and lick along his skin until you’re just underneath where his jaw and neck meet. Your eyes flutter open to look at him. It's too much for him.

Rin grinds his hips up in retaliation until you whimper. He does it over and over, steadily until you’re both rocking against each other in tandem. All clothes and hot heaving breaths, layers of fabric acting as barrier for what he's after.  

You’ve done everything under the sun aside from sex. This barely counts as foreplay by now. Even so, he’s bucking up into you with every ounce of his strength, unspoken desire shredding his sense. His hands gripping your hips, jaw grit - pleasure coiling in his stomach and wound so tight.  

“Fuck,”  

You’re crying out against his shoulder before you remember what you were trying to do.  

Your lips find his neck again trying not to be too noisy. Latching on with a soft kiss, Rin hisses as your teeth finally sink into the flesh. Your mouth is small. It’s all he can think about. He feels your incisors scrape against the skin, tongue tracing a vein. Before long, you’re sucking hard on the same spot. He can feel it. A bruise forming, broken capillaries blooming in deep dark hues of purple and red. Rin groans at the feeling. You give it every ounce of effort, holding onto his bicep tight when you do. It aches in a pleasant way.  

Pleasant enough to make his hips buck. A jolt of desire and want rips through him like a shockwave - until he’s pushing you down against the hard outline of his cock and forcing you to grind against it. It’s hard and sharp, fingers bruising. 

He cums hard. Seconds later, like a flash of lighting. His stomach flips and something rips through him and—

It’s the first time he’s cum before you. Fuck, h can feel his own cum seeping through his boxers and jeans. It’s so intense his vision blacks out for a minute before returning to him, chest heaving as you pull away and stare.  

“You—“  

Horror washes over him. Rin puts a hand over your mouth, angry and irritated. Red up to his ears to his ears and internally having the worst crisis of his life for the third time over.

He looks at your face and there's that feeling in his chest. But he recognizes it this time. Knows exactly whats making him like this, forced to confront it for the first time.

“Shut up,” He hisses, breathing heavily. “Not a fucking word,”  

You nod at him docile. Rin forces himself steady as he thinks of pinning you down and taking you.

Like he knows you'd let him. Like he fucking knows he wants to.

[narraboths]

I really like the idea that whenever Supergirl and Lena Luthor are in public together their world just narrows to the two of them and they absolutely cannot act anything other than enamoured even with eyes and cameras on them

When they enter the Tower, Alex is pacing around the main hall with such heavy steps that Kara wouldn’t be surprised to find she’s already managed to bear her trail into the wooden floorboards. Her sister looks worryingly worn and morose, her heartbeat erratic as she waves them over to her desk.

“We have a problem,” she states gravely. She leans forward, palms resting on the desk as if she was bracing herself, and Kara’s brain goes into overdrive.

“Is it Cadmus? Darkseid? The Dominators?” She’s rocking back and forth on her feet, adrenaline coursing through her body. Her eyes light up for a second. “Do I get to fight a dragon again?”

Alex shakes her head with a heavy look and Kara deflates a little. Lena, however, picks up right where she left off.

“If it’s my mother, I swear to God,” she huffs, and Kara forgets her eyes on the adorable little blush on her cheeks, the angry snarl of her lips. The tension in her body melts away in an instant, and despite the situation, Kara can feel a smile tugging on her lips as Lena presses on. “That woman can’t even leave us in peace when she’s on the run–”

“No, no, none of those things,” Alex cuts her off. She gives an inexplicably vehement side-eye to Kara before she’d flip her tablet open and push it in front of them. “It’s you,” she declares, crossing her arms. “Both of you.”

They both stare at her in confused silence, then look down at the tablet at the same time, to be greeted by the loud, garish headline, fittingly typed in bright red: 

Super-Pals? Supergirl and Lena Luthor Getting Cozy at Charity Event.

There are photos, of course, of things that Kara would swear are only cozy, good-natured moments of fun between two friends who like to save the world together. Lena is leaning up to whisper something in Supergirl’s ear in one (definitely 100% work-related, Kara could vouch for it), with Supergirl’s hand resting on the small of her back in turn. Alex lets them mull over it, then scrolls down, wordless, to another segment of the same article. Trouble Seeing Eye To Eye? it asks, cheeky, accompanied by photos of the two of them talking, Supergirl’s eyeline clearly not on Lena’s face. Kara blushes.

“It’s just a gossip rag, you know this,” she says, not entirely managing to hit the dismayed tone she was aiming for. Beside her, Lena shifts on her feet and crosses her arms, like she tends to when she gets defensive. “They’ll do anything to drive up their numbers.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alex rolls her eyes, then flicks to a new tab. “Daily Tribune, last week.” A photo of Lena gently wiping the soot from Supergirl’s face after a press conference fiasco. Alex switches tabs again. “National City Gazette, How To Catch A Super.”

“As if I’m some sultry seductress,” Lena scoffs. There’s a little blush on her face again, and in spite of the scornful tone, there’s an impossibly fond look in her eyes as she takes in the photo below the headline: her cradled in Supergirl’s arms, one hand pressed against bright red S with Supergirl’s hand laid atop hers, their fingers interlocked. Under the desk and out of sight, Kara reaches out to link their fingers together, and Lena’s hand meets hers halfway through. They lean closer as their hands intertwine, their shoulders brushing together, and Kara won’t even try to smother her giddy smile as Alex carries on.

“Daily fucking Planet, Supergirl and Lena Luthor: A Timeline of a Relationship.” She slams the tablet’s cover shut with a huff. “Brainy has a whole batch of them, and he surveys more social media accounts than I’d ever have liked to know about, too. So, care to explain?”

Kara takes a deep breath.

“We’re just friendly!” She complains, exasperated. “You can’t expect me to act like I don’t know her!”

“We are long-time partners in making the world a better place, after all,” Lena adds. Alex raises an eyebrow.

“And you act like you’re long-time partners in marriage.”

The only reason why Kara doesn’t cross her arms, scandalized and irate, is because the gentle, comforting warmth of Lena’s hand wrapped around her own is too nice a sensation to end just for this. She makes do with an angry stare instead.

“Do you have a problem with that or something?”

“Are you asking me if I hate Lena or if I’m homophobic?” It’s the first time a smile appears on Alex’s face during their conversation, albeit a very tired one. Her tone turns softer then. “You realize that if people think Supergirl and Lena are involved with each other beyond a simple partnership, there’s gonna be a bigger target on her back than there already is, don’t you? That whoever would try to harm or abduct any associate of Supergirl’s would go at her first. Is that what you want, Kara?”

“No, of course not,” Kara mumbles, ducking her head. Lena doesn’t interject, either, only squeezes Kara’s hand in support and Alex must clearly take her silence as agreement. She draws herself up and clears her throat.

“I would like both of you to pay more attention to acting more professional in public for your own sakes,” she declares, in the Director Danvers tone. Her face is so strained that Kara has to hold back a giggle.

“Understood,” she quickly says before she’d ruin it, and Lena nods along.

“Loud and clear.”

“Great.” The tension in Alex’s shoulders visibly eases. She snatches up the tablet and starts towards the door. “See you both at game night.”

Kara waits until her footsteps die down in the hallway before she’d slump against the desk.

“We are so bad at this,” she whines, tugging on Lena’s hand, and Lena laughs, letting herself fall into Kara’s arms, tucked against Kara’s chest. She leans up, kissing the pout off of Kara’s lips, her free hand cupping Kara’s cheek, gently stroking along the line of her jaw when they part. Her eyes sparkle, happy, mischievous, and Kara can feel her heart growing three sizes in her chest. It’d be worth it to endure millennia of dressing-downs from her sister just to see Lena looking at her with such love.

“I don’t think today’s the day to break it to her, darling,” Lena whispers, nipping at Kara’s lips.

“No,” Kara agrees, pressing their foreheads together with a sigh. “I’m gonna make that photo from the Gazette my screensaver though.”

[funtimebunnyblog]

Me: *receives this request*

Me: *sips my 3rd coffee of the day from my raccoon mug in the pitch dark of my room* 

Me: My time has come...

Pillarmen (separate) with a coffee addicted, sarcastic, career focused s/o (who doesn’t get enough sleep)...

(under the cut for length!)

Kars:

"Have you eaten today?" The Pillarmen questioned you, looming over your desk in the dark of your Office.

"Yes." You answered simply, not bothering to tear your eyes from the laptop screen or the sea of words it held sitting before you. Kars however knew better than to leave it at just that, folding his arms across his chest as he cocked an eyebrow.

Kars frowned to himself as his eyes took in your workspace, trying not to focus on the fact that was littered with disorganized papers, food wrappers and a few empty mugs.

He would never let his desk degenerate into something even close to this mess.

"Alright. What did you eat?"

Kars clicked his tongue, letting out the sigh he knew he was going to make upon making the decision to check in on you in the first place. He had known very well this conversation would be steered into a direction like this.

A silence fell over the room, your the clicking of keyboard keys stalling for the briefest second before resuming.

"Coffee." Came the answer.

"Coffee is NOT a meal." He said curtly.

"I know it's not a meal, it's a vegetable." You replied without missing a single beat.

He pursed his lips, "Now what makes you say that?"

"It came from beans."

"Something to eat first, then you may finish your work. And then it's straight to bed with you." He ordered, carrying you downstairs to the kitchen. It was late and he knew that if he didn't set these boundaries you would be hunched over, typing away at your messy little desk all hours of the night.

Without another word you were picked up out of your office chair like nothing more than a common house cat and thrown over his shoulder, the massive man rolled his eyes as you whined that you had only a couple more pages to do and you were trying to finish.

He ignored your protests as much as he disregarded the sluggish pounds of your fists on his backside.

Needless to say, he didn't want a repeat of last time that happened. Coffee and redbull brew was a potent mixture he wanted to keep out of your reach from now on, no matter how tired you claimed to be.

"Ok, Mom." You bit back, finally giving up on your futile squirming for the night. You shot him your best glare as he set you down on the kitchen counter, the rings under your bleary eyes only becoming more prominent as he once again ignored your words and your stare, getting right into fixing you something quick to eat.

Kars wasn't a person to be spoken to in that way by anyone (they never usually lived long enough to get such remarks out) but you were much different of course. In fact, your sharp tongue was easily matched by his quick wit; it only made you an even stronger pair to be reckoned with in his opinion.

With only a quirk of his lips as a response to your sarcastic quip, a cookie was shoved into your mouth.

"Here. Perhaps this will sweeten up your sour, my child." He said, now fully getting on your level as he busied himself making you a sandwich.

A smile curled at the corners of your full mouth as you chewed away, your demeanor just a little lighter as sweet chocolate goodness tickled your senses. However, chocolate did little to coat the silver of your tongue.

"Bite me." You spat playfully, a few crumbs escaping your lips along with the words.

"You know better than to threaten me with a good time, dearest." Kars responded, not even lifting his eyes from the cutting board as he sliced away at a cucumber.

You nearly choked on the sweet you were savoring as you doubled over in laughter, making Kars smile to himself in triumph.

Esidisi:

"What are you doing?" Esidisi watched you with curious interest as you began to depart from the kitchen, just seconds after making your entrance, the entire pot of black coffee he had just prepared in your hand.

The steaming pot of rich and buzzing Caffeine was snatched from your grasp in a fraction of a second, you blinked to find squirming tendrils of veins spiriting it away back to your Husband.

"I'm flipping oyster burgers for the King of Spain, what does it look like?" You asked without even a thought, an impressive feat as it seemed like you were mere seconds away from falling over.

Disheveled wasn't even a word to describe your appearance. Your hair in disarray and wearing the same clothes as you had yesterday; you looked like you had been put through the ringer not once but a few times.

"Hey!" You cried, fully turning on him. It only made the smirk at the corner of his mouth grow as you advanced on him, stomping angrily as you went; inevitably you were only making yourself more adorable in his eyes. "Give that back! I need to get some work done!"

Taking the entire pot with you was the most elegant solution in your eyes rather than coming back downstairs every so often to refill your mug. You definitely needed the quantity of this pot if you wanted to stay awake any longer to complete your workload.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast little oyster flipper!" He laughed, holding the pot far out of your reach and pushing you at arms length as you attempted to make a grab for it.

Esidisi was always amused by your fiery determination when it came down to your work and the lengths you went through to get it done but he knew when enough was enough.

"What I want to know is, did you get any sleep last night?" He questioned, a bare brow raising; a look betraying his genuine concern for you in the midst of his jest.

The Pillarman was not going to let you take the pot of coffee all the way back to your office to chug like an oversized movie soda as you pushed through more piles of papers. You had been up there practically three days straight, basically just surviving on the stuff at this point.

If you weren't going to take care of yourself, he supposed he'd just have to do it for you.

"Er... uh..."

You blinked slowly, the raw stinging of your eyes didn't quite help you in forming a convincing response.

You could've swore you nodded off once, maybe twice, at your desk sometime in the middle of the night but you weren't sure for how long exactly. It probably didn't even come close to qualifying as "sleep" in terms of rest.

"Mm-hmm. That's what I thought." He hummed, putting the pot of coffee back in its rightful place. A sound of surprise managed to escape your lips as he picked you up, carrying you out of the kitchen like you were nothing more than a toddler.

"Wh-Where are we going?" You questioned, blinking stupidly and trying to recover from your slight shock.

"Hmm, not Spain. Sorry, you won't be flipping any burgers today, my little spit-fire." He responded, his tone fluid enough to rival your second-nature sarcasm.

Your lips came together, squirming in his hold as you connected the dots. "I can't go to bed! I still have woooork!" You whined, pushing against him as if that would do anything in his powerful grasp. "I'm not tired!"

"Really? Oh, you could've fooled me." He chuckled, the rumbling of his chest against yours only making sleepy shivers dance through your body.

"I just need some coffee! That's all, c'mon!"

"No more coffee for you. You drank enough to last you a fortnight, yesterday."

He was so warm and comfortable, a much better feeling than any sized mug of coffee you could guzzle down would leave you; your fidgeting had come to a complete stop without you realizing it.

"I just..." You were cut off by a yawn forcing its way out of you. "...just a few more... p-papers..."

"Not today you're not." He chided softly, a hand rubbing tender little circles into your back with heated fingers. You knew that he knew it was only making you more sleepy (not to mention more frustrated) by the second. "You're having a sleep, something proper to eat later and a shower and then you can work and drink all the coffee you want."

Just a few more papers. Just a few more papers.... Just a few more papers.... Just... a few... more...

By the time Esidisi had reached the top of the stairs, your struggle had ceased all together and you had fallen limp in his arms; completely and utterly asleep.

The litany in your head fell silent as your eyelids drooped, losing yourself in the warmth of your Husbands embrace as the swaying of his movement rocked you as he walked along.

So many cheeky things you wanted to say died like flickering embers in your brain, unable to escape your lips this time.

Wamuu:

"Beloved?" The Warrior pushed open the door to your office, peering into the dark room with a frown. "Are you in here?"

"No. I'm on the Moon." Your voice (sounding a little worn but still holding that familiar pinch of playfulness) cut through the dark, coming right from your desk where you were hunched over and drawing away; the dim light from your tablet was the only thing cutting through the shadows of your cave.

He couldn't help but notice it was the exact spot he had left you when he departed early this morning to go do some training.

Warm, golden light shrouded you and your cluttered desk area, making you blink in surprise. You hadn't really realized that it had gotten dark at all and for the briefest of seconds you wondered how late exactly it had gotten; you shook your head quickly as you regained your focus on your work.

Nonetheless, Wamuu smiled softly and entered your workspace. It was an easy feat for the Pillarman to make his way through despite the darkness cloaking the room as he had most excellent night vision.

However, upon reaching your side, he reached over and flicked on your table lamp. He knew that the dark wasn't exactly doing your Human vision much good.

"Thank you." You mumbled, swiping your digital pen across the screen with slow and careful movements.

Wamuu hummed softly, leaning over you with a curious eye to see your work better.

"That looks very nice." He commented, the corners of his full lips tugging into a sweet smile as he admired your handiwork. You never ceased to amaze him with your little drawings and sketches.

You needed to get this piece done by the weekend and you wanted it done today so it could be out of your way. Each slip up of your hand or a line only made you feel more exhausted and more picky, lines overlapped and blurred and you could no longer take in the picture anymore; just your mistakes and its flaws.

A tired sigh escaped your lips, "I just can't get the shading right. I think I've had to redo it 8 times now..." you grumbled, only getting increasingly frustrated at the setback, a hand unconsciously reaching up to scrub at your eye.

Your eyeballs were starting to burn from focusing on the screen too long, a feeling much akin to being rubbed raw with sandpaper.

"Have you been drawing all day?" He questioned, turning his gaze down to the crown of your head with worry.

The Warriors smile fell as he took in your awry state more closely, he definitely didn't miss the umpteen mugs of coffee littering your space (some of which were only half-finished and long gone cold by now).

Did you even move at all while he had been gone? When was the last time you showered? Ate? Changed your clothes?

Really it was the best answer you could give, all you knew was that it was dark and you were sore and tired and your hand was cramping... so it was more than likely you had spent the entirety of the day working.

Once again, your movements stalled before slowly regaining focus, your movements slothy and lacking your usual grace.

"I guess..." you answered lamely.

Again.

Wamuu shook his head, you had been drawing all night last night and you had promised to go to bed after he kissed you goodbye this morning. It was obvious you forgot your promise and kept working.

The drawing tablet was easily plucked from your grasp, making you jump in surprise and reflexively make a grab for it.

"Wamuu-- wha--?!"

"This won't do." He said, quickly hitting the save button on your piece of art as he pulled the tablet further from your reach. "You're done for today."

"What? No! I--" You made an attempt to snatch it back but the hulking man wasn't having any of it, gazing down at you with stern double-ringed emeralds.

For now, he was taking matters into his own hands.

"No. You've worked far too long. Look at you beloved, you've become nothing but a shell!" He chastised, walking past you and placing your tablet on the highest shelf of your office; far, far from your reach.

You would only get it back once you were rested and cared for.

He pushed open the bathroom door with careful ease, not even struggling as he held you and set you down on the toilet.

You were picked up with ease, cradled in the Warriors arms like he was rescuing you from the battlefield as he marched out of the room. Your whines and cries and pleas to be put down went ignored, even as you pounded weakly on his chest.

You had originally thought he was taking your straight to the bedroom to put you down for a sleep but no, he walked right past the room without even a passing glance.

"Sit there." He told you, pressing a tender kiss to your head; the softness of his actions rendering you silent. "Let me handle this."

Your previous protests, your frustrations and any and all thoughts to your work had died all together by the time you two had stripped and were sitting comfortably in the warm scented water.

You blinked, watching him as he puttered around the bathroom; filling the tub with warm water and adding a generous portion of your favorite bathsoap, making a luscious and soothing scent fill the air and your senses.

A warm bath together would do you both some good, he was a little rumpled from training all day himself and you were worn down from your own work. Wamuu always enjoyed washing your hair and bathing together was always a good de-stressor in his eyes.

"You're too persuasive," you remarked, the words coming out as more of a sigh as he combed his fingers through your damp hair.

You hated to admit it but this was just what you needed; you could literally feel all the stress and overwork just washing away with the water rolling over you.

Wamuu chuckled softly, squeezing some of your favourite shampoo into his huge palm. "And You're negligent of your own needs. But don't worry, that's why I'm here..."

Santana:

"You are tired."

"I'm not tired!" You groaned, the exasperation in your voice was short-lived as the corners of your lips quirked up into a teeny grin. "...I'm y/n."

Santana tilted his head, pursing his lips. Usually you would chuckle at his obvious confusion (Santana still couldn't quite grasp puns and dry humor like sarcasm well, despite it being something you used more than often) but today you were too busy to sit down and explain it, let alone spend any time with him.

You still had work to pick at upstairs and judging by how things were going, you weren't going to be done anytime soon.

It didn't help the fact that Santana was becoming increasingly worried about you; he had caught you pouring yourself a bowl of orange juice and a glass of cereal this morning when you begrudgingly trudged downstairs for breakfast. The growling of your stomach neglecting its needs had become too unbearable.

Either way; you weren't going to let the fact you haven't seen a bed (or a fresh change of clothes) in days stop you.

"I just need to get some work done, Santana..." you sighed, emptying the pot of coffee into your mug. "I have a deadline at the end of the week."

"Sleep is for the weak." You replied, bringing the steaming mug to your lips for the first sip.

"You have not slept in days." He pointed out, the deep timber of his voice rumbling around the room. You could feel his eyes staring into your back as you fumbled around the kitchen.

Damn him for being so perceptive.

"Your kind is very weak." Came the immediate and factual response. "You require sleep to function and survive."

Like it or not, he was spitting straight facts.

You nearly choked on the gulp of hot liquid, it burned in your throat as his words hit you. Your mate watched as you opened your mouth and fumbled with a response to conteract that statement; ultimately having nothing.

It was always hard to argue when you felt so sluggish, your brain running just as well as an old windows computer, let alone when Santana stood there blinking so innocently.

You groaned, shuffling out of the room; mug in hand and the migrane you had been trying to rid of slowly regaining its pounding pulse in your temples.

"Oh honey, I'll be fine..." you whined, trying to ignore his eyes still watching you as you began your slothy trek up the stairs. "I may be a 'Primitive lifeform' but I can handle a little work."

The Pillarman watched you go, frowning to himself as you disappeared up the stairs; the hard shut of the door to your office the only sound following your exit.

Your energy was very low, he had only seen you eat a handful of times and it seemed like you were running into walls and doors more often than the average Human lately.

Santana was getting worried.

The hours of the morning ticked bye, eventually Noon rolled around and then passed and you didn't come down for lunch (or more coffee). The primal instincts of protecting you as his mate inevitably kicked in and Santana found himself at the door to your office, peering in with a curious eye.

There he was met with the sight of you slumped over at your desk, your back rising and falling slowly and rhythmically. The sounds of your soft breath hit his sharp ears, even from all the way across the room, and he found himself wandering in, coming right up beside you where you lay crumpled.

You stirred slightly, making his hair stand on end as a groan barely passed your lips before you settled down again, resuming your quiet snoring.

Upon further inspection he found your eyes were closed, cheek smooshed right against the wood of the desk and papers sticking uncomfortably to your face. Even your pen was still gripped in hand.

His eyes skimmed over some loose papers, nothing but meaningless words and numbers scrawled across the white without rhyme and reason to him but always it held some deeper meaning to you; your supposed work.

Your coffee had barely been touched, gone cold and sitting quite forlorn among the foodwrappers and empty water bottles and papers scattered across your workspace. Santana reached for the mug, sniffing curiously at the coal black liquid sloshing around inside. Throughout all the time he had known you, you always had a strange attachment to this drink; you claimed it was what kept you functioning.

Curiosity got the best of him and he brought it to his lips for a taste, wondering the exact appeal of it. He shuddered, growling, almost spitting the shallow mouthful of it out and turning his head away as the bitter and cold liquid overwhelmed his senses as it slipped down his throat...

Disgusting.

He brought the mug to his mouth again, unable to stop himself as he dove in for his second taste; doing the very same thing as before.

Not bad, actually.

The red-haired Pillarman pulled the mug close a third time, throwing his head back gulping back the liquid as if his life depended on it. Licking his lips and blinking rapidly, he cradled the now empty mug to his bare chest as his nostrils flared and toes curled, riding out the waves of it overpowering his senses.

It was so terrible but so good at the same time; so good he didn't want it to end but so terrible he wished the bitter and overpowering aftertaste would leave his tongue.

He turned his attention back to you, with a tilt of his head. You were still sleeping, nonethewiser to his very presence; it was likely you would stay that way for some time.

With only a moments thought he shuffled out of the room quickly, returning just moments later with a blanket and pillow in tow.

You needed your sleep to function, as he had told you, so he would leave you to it as he went downstairs to prepare more of that delicious "coffee" for when you woke.

With all the carefulness in the world, a massive hand slipped under you, lifting your face just inches off the had desk as he slipped the cushy pillow under you and let you down softly.

Gently, he draped the blanket over your back before leaning down, smoothing your hair and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

He planned on having another mug himself.

Or two mugs.

Or five.

Or maybe three pots worth...

[dreamescapeswriting]

Aftershock ~ PJM [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 3.1K

↬↬↬Genre: ANGST!

↬↬↬Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

↬↬↬TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions death, Earthquakes, cheating, no happy endings in this one guys, yall really trying to kill me off with the angst here.

It was no secret that Jimin was growing distant from you but you were putting it down to the pressures of his job that was drawing him away from you but lately it had gotten worse.

"What if me and Yerin flew out with you? We could have a family trip in London?" You'd tried suggesting multiple options to Jimin but he shot you down all week telling you about how busy he would be in London, that it wouldn't be any fun for both of you to just sit in a hotel room while he worked all day.

"I can't, it won't be fun for either of you." You sighed looking at the back of his head while he packed up his suitcase for the weekend ahead of him.

"It's just three nights, I'll be back before you know it." He turned around and for a split second you thought he was going to embrace you but he turned to walk out of the room going towards your 10-year-old daughter's bedroom to say goodbye. He kissed the top of her head while she slept, pulling the covers over her body wishing her goodnight before he came back out of the room and came face to face with you.

"But I'm going to miss you," You whispered pulling his tie so he would move closer to you, it had been so long since you'd been this close you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be next to him.

"My plane- I can't do this Y/n," He stared at you as he placed his hands on your arms the usual heart skipping he got whenever he was close to you had faded, the fact that he could look into your eyes and no longer stutter confirmed everything he'd been feeling over the last couple of months. He was falling out of love with you and into love with somebody else,

"When you come back I'll make sure we have some time together as a family, Yerin missed you." You lied to him, Yerin had been growing distant from her father telling you that there was something off she couldn't put her finger on.

"Sounds like a good idea, I'll have Areum find some places for us." He lied again but you couldn't tell when he was lying to you anymore, it used to be so easy to detect but now it had become so normal for him to lie to you there were no telltale signs anymore.

"That sounds good, are Areum and Jungkook going with you this weekend?" You knew Areum and Jungkook really well since they were Jimin's personal assistants at work but Jimin froze as her name fell from your lips, you even smiled as you said her name.

"Areum is but Jungkook isn't, he has some work to be doing in the office. I thought I mentioned that-"

"You did! I'm sorry, I just forgot." The thought of Areum and Jimin being alone in London didn't scare you, your husband loved you so you and you trusted him so you saw no reason to worry about it. Plus Areum was young enough to be Jimin's niece or if you'd had Yerin a few years sooner old enough to be his daughter. She was only 25 while Jimin was 35.

"Oh will you tell her I got us some face masks for the next time she comes over, I remember her mentioning that she loved them before." Jimin hated the fact that you and Areum had bonded it meant what he was doing with her behind your back would hurt all the more if you were to ever find out...Which he wasn't planning on happening until he'd figured out his headspace. He'd felt himself falling out of love with you, after 18 years of being together it was bound to happen eventually.

"I'll tell her when I see her at the airport darling, I have to go." He leant closer to you leaving a small kiss on your lips as he went back into the bedroom. For you the butterflies never stopped, every time he looked at you it was like the first time all over again. Your heart would skip a beat whenever he said your name or came close to you, it was always going to be that way for you.

Areum was waiting in the black SUV outside his house, the driver - Jung Hoseok - was growing more and more impatient with how long Jimin was taken but kept his mouth shut since he liked his job. Jimin was one of the fastest-growing CEO's in the business and everyone wanted to work for him even if it was just a driver or just a cleaner.

"Mr Park, lovely to see you this evening." He greeted as Jimin got into the back of the SUV and sat down beside Areum, as soon as the door shut and you could no longer see Jimin he slipped off his wedding band and placed it into the cup holder of the car - it would be there when he came back from London but he didn't need that holding him back.

"I was thinking we could start our weekend at the natural history museum, they have this exhibit on at the moment that you're going to love." Jimin groaned at Areum tilting her head up to look into her eyes before he laid a gentle kiss on her lips, the butterflies flew into his stomach instantly giving him the feeling he'd missed with you. Hoseok put his head down so he wouldn't have to watch the display happening in the back of his own car. He'd known Jimin for the last 11 years and to see him throw away his marriage with you like that wasn't a nice feeling for him, especially since he'd been close with you as well.

"A little traffic sir, will that be a problem?" Jimin looked away from Areum and to Hoseok who was glancing at him in the mirror,

"No Hoseok that's fine, I'll just close this. We have some business to attend to." Hoseok clicked the button that shut the glass window that saw into the back of the SUV he knew what ''business'' meant it was always the same with all of the CEO's. They'd cheat on their wives without the poor women knowing about it all.

As Saturday rolled around you began to miss Jimin more and more, he'd only been gone one day but it was one day too many to you.

"Jungkook, I've been trying to get hold of you all night," You breathed down the phone as Yerin was at dance practice while you sat outside trying to get Jungkook on the phone.

"I've been swamped in paperwork, Areum is with Jimin so I'm alone at the office. What can I do for your Mrs Park?" You smiled at the fact that he still continued to call you that despite your constant pleas for him to just call you by your first name.

"I want to fly out and surprise my husband so I was hoping you could tell me what hotel to go to and which flight to catch," You'd never been good at this sort of thing which was why Jimin normally had his assistants do everything for the both of you.

"I can organise all of that Mrs Park, but that'll be nice for you both. A weekend away in London," He began clicking through his laptop to find the details on where Areum and Jimin were staying that weekend.

"I hope Jimin sees it that was Jungkook, he'd been so busy lately I barely see him." You laughed softly trying not to rant to the boy who worked for your boss.

"Looks like there's a flight tonight and he's staying in the Clinton hotel so I'll have everything booked for you under your name Mrs Park." He smiled ordered everything right away before looking around his desk, scattered in bits of paper.

"If you're going maybe send Areum back, I need help I'm drowning in paper." He chuckled to you,

"I'll have Hoseok pick you up to take you to the hospital, Mrs Park." You thanked him and hung up the phone waiting for your daughter's practice to be over so you could go home and pack.

"Mrs Park." Hoseok greeted as he opened the door to the black SUV that had been parked outside your house yesterday,

"Thanks, Hobi," You smiled helping Yerin into the back of the car first, it was late at night so she was probably going to sleep throughout the whole flight which was a good thing. You hadn't told her that you were going to see Jimin just that you were going on a girl's trip and wanted everything to be a surprise for her.

"How was your day?" He questioned walking around to the front of the car to start driving towards the airport,

"It was good, I spent most of it packing up though." You frowned looking into the cupholder and Hoseok caught what you were doing, he knew the ring was in there he'd just forgotten to move it.

"Mr Park took it off yesterday, he didn't want to lose it in London." He hated that he was lying for Jimin right to your face but he had no other option, his life depended on keeping his job,

"Oh. Right, that makes sense." You whispered trying not to overthink the small detail but all the other times Jimin's had been away with you he'd worn his ring.

"How was your day Hoseok?" You asked trying to do something to distract yourself from the gut feeling that something was wrong, he was about to answer when he groaned hitting deadlock traffic.

"Looks like we're going to be a little late." Yerin looked up from her tablet to see what was wrong,

"Deadlock, get some rest sweetie I'll wake you up when we get there." You promised her as she started yawning, the tablet was slipped into her bag and she laid her head down on your shoulder to get some rest.

"WATCH IT!" A workman screamed at his friend as he travelled through the airport carrying a glass window panel with another workman, you pulled Yerin closer to you. The feeling that something was wrong hadn't left you since you left the car and nothing felt safe to you right now,

"Walk in front of me, don't wander off." You made her promise you that she wouldn't go anywhere and she nodded at you watching as you held onto her arm tightly trying to make your way towards the terminal you needed.

"We're going to London? With dad?" Yerin questioned as she got a look at the tickets as the flight attendant took the tickets from you. You wasted no time in waiting for her to fight you on this and you walked through the terminal with her, holding onto her hand.

"It'll be nice for us all to just get out for a while." You whispered but that was when you heard screaming, the ground started to move and the sounds around you sounded like thunder.

"Yerin get between a doorway now!" You screamed at her pushing her towards the plane as you saw an elderly woman struggling to stay upright.

"Here." You called out walking with her towards the airport instead of the plane, it was closer for her.

"Shit!" You screamed as she finally made it into the airport but the door slammed shut on you, locking due to the emergency systems in place,

"MUM!" Yerin screamed out watching as you tried to make your way over to her but the ground began to shake rapidly, screams filled the air as rubble began to fall around you, the terminal wasn't structurally sound enough hide inside of and there were no tables for you to hide underneath.

"Yerin! Go and get under something!" You yelled at her, as you went to rush towards the plane to join her it came away from the door as the ground shook some more. The small shakes began to turn violent and the glass windows inside of the terminal smashed, you made your way over to the poles to try and keep yourself from falling but the whole place wobbled.

It stopped, the shaking stopped and everything seemed to calm back down you looked around at the destruction that had been left behind, shards of glass everywhere along with pieces of the building that had begun to cave in on itself,

"Yerin?" You coughed as you inhaled rubble coming from the ceiling,

"Miss, please stay there, there could be-" Before the flight attendant could even say the words aftershock the ground rumble once again and the terminal shook falling towards the floor below you, you screamed out loudly as people watched in horror. Yerin was clutched by a flight attendant so she wouldn't have to watch what had happened.

Areum laughed as Jimin told her that he loved her, laughed. They'd been out to dinner the night before when he finally told her that he was planning on leaving you for her.

"Jimin, I don't do love." The words rung through his ears as she continued to laugh hysterically at him, he'd remembered her telling him that she'd only been sleeping with him to get to a higher place in the company. She'd done the same with all of her other jobs and nothing about the weekend they were spending together meant anything to him, she'd do this with multiple men if she could.

"We will be arriving in Seoul Private Airstrip soon, please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare to land." Jimin frowned coming out of his daydream to hear about the private airstrip, he took the attention of a flight attendant,

"Why are we landing in a private area?" She frowned at him turning on the news on the small TV in front of him, images of an earthquake at the main airport in Seoul filled the screen. Names were running along the bottom of those that had lost their lives, he felt no fear though. You were home waiting for him and he was going to confess everything to you, how much of a mistake he'd made by sleeping with Areum. He was going to come clean about the affair instead of holding it away from you.

"Mrs Park?" You looked up through blurry eyes as a torch was shone into them,

"I'm cold," You whispered looking into the paramedic's eyes as he tried to talk to you,

"We're working on getting you a blanket, can you tell me where you are?" You hissed trying to sit up but you were forced back down into place but it wasn't by a pair of hands, something was pinning you to the floor.

"W-What's that?!" You whimpered out feeling pain spread throughout your body whenever you tried to move,

"One of the beams fell on you Mrs Park, I need you to look at me and focus on me okay?" You were too tired for this, you stared at him trying to focus on what he was saying but you didn't understand anything. He sounded far away from you and everything was too cold,

"Tired." Was all you managed to say to him as you looked around you, bodies were laid on the floor being covered by sheets and you frowned.

"Yerin! My daughter!" It gave you a little fight but you still couldn't move thanks to the beam pinning you to the ground,

"We're working on that Mrs Park but I need you to look at me while we help you," You shook your head begging him to go and find your daughter instead.

"P-Please." Your voice came out croaky as you spat blood out onto the spot beside your head, the paramedic swallowed the lump in his throat. Everyone knew what that meant when someone was throwing up blood in drastic ways like this,

"Mrs Park I'm going to give you something to make the pain go away, okay?!" You nodded your head laying it back against the floor as he pushed a needle into your arm, you hummed as you felt numb from it the second it worked it's way into your blood.

"M-Mr Park is in London, someone has to call him." You mumbled looking at the paramedic as you realised what was happening, the man was holding your hand and had his other hand on a cross around his neck.

"You have to tell him that his assistants know when all the dance practices for Yerin are." The paramedic opened his eyes and sighed at you,

"You should rest-"

"There's too much he needs to know," You cried out tears rolling down your cheeks, you weren't in pain you were just sad that Jimin was never going to hear you tell him you loved him one last time.

"I'm sure he'll know," The paramedic whispered that was when you started to gasp for air and he knew it was coming,

"Shh, it's okay." He whispered stroking hair out of your face as you whimpered, it didn't hurt like they made it sound like it did in the movies. It felt like falling into a deep sleep, almost calm as you looked up at the paramedic trying to comfort you.

Jimin got home to find police knocking on the door Hoseok was talking to them with his head hanging low,

"May I help you?"

"Mr Park." Hoseok panicked looking up from the floor as the police turned to Jimin,

"What's going on?" Jimin felt panic rush through his body as he realised that the police were slowly taking off their hats and holding them across their hearts,

"Mrs Park and Yerin-"

"No. No, they're at home!" He didn't even give the police or Hoseok time to stop him as he pushed through the front door screaming out your names for you to come and see him but you didn't come out.

"Hoseok! W-Why?! Why would she go!? I told her-" He dropped onto his knees as the policemen informed him that you and your daughter had both been involved in the main collapsing of the fifth terminal at the airport.

"We're sorry for your loss Mr Park." He said nothing as they walked out of the house leaving him alone with Hoseok,

"Sir-"

"Leave. I-I need to be alone." Hoseok nodded placing the three rings he had down onto the coffee table beside Jimin who weakly looked at him. Your wedding ring, engagement ring and his wedding ring were together making him feel even worse about everything he'd done to you that weekend and over the last months. He'd ruined his whole relationship over someone that didn't even care for him, he'd lost everything he'd ever loved in a matter of days because he'd been too foolish to see what was right in front of him was perfect.

Tagline: 

@snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @fan-ati--c​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​

[remywrites5]

           Remus looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He really needed to get more sleep, the bags under his eyes had taken up permanent residence there, and his roots were starting to come in. He spat into the sink and then rinsed his toothbrush off. When he glanced back up at himself, there was the same harrowing reflection staring back. He needed to at least re-dye his hair pink or else pick a different colour.

           He’d dyed it pink on a whim after his last breakup. He thought maybe going from his usual tawny curls to something else would make him more exciting, more cheerful, more something. “Why are you never smiling?” Benjy had asked Remus all the time. As if Remus should just constantly be smiling like some kind of insane person.

           Remus walked over to his desk and flopped into his rolling chair. He sat with one leg bent up towards his chest and hunched over his tablet. The thing was so old it was practically a dinosaur. The program he used to draw on was always crashing – causing Remus to do almost constant saving. Drawing web comics wasn’t exactly the most lucrative use of his art degree, but it paid the bills.

           There was some sort of ungodly sound outside and then the distinct clatter of something breaking. Remus jumped to his feet in surprise, wondering if someone had climbed up to his flat to murder him. Two shadows appeared at his door and then one of them knocked. Well, if they were murderers, they were of the polite variety.

           Remus walked over tentatively, his pen for his tablet still in his hand as his only means of defense. He figured at the least maybe he could poke a few eyes.

           “I don’t think anyone is home.”

           “He has to be home. I haven’t seen him leave the house in days.”

           “Hmm, paying close attention, are we?”

           “Shut up, Jamie.”

           “Ow!”

           Confused, Remus opened the door to find two guys standing on the other side. The dark-skinned one with glasses immediately smiled, while the pale one with long dark hair kept his face neutral.

           “Hiya! I’m James and this is Sirius,” James said, moving what was in his hand so that he could wave. “We run the bakery downstairs. We just came to introduce ourselves and bring you these!”

           Remus took the container when James offered it, still a little bit stunned by the whole thing, and opened it up. Inside was an assortment of baked goods. “Oh. Thank you,” Remus said, a little bit at a loss for words. “This is really nice.”

           Remus was suddenly struck by the fact that two very attractive men were on his doorstep and Remus was wearing the same hoodie he’d worn for three days. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d put on deodorant. Embarrassed beyond belief, Remus felt his cheeks flush.

           “Aren’t you going to say anything?” James prompted his friend, shoving at Sirius’ shoulder.

           “Hi,” Sirius said, running his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

           Remus swallowed thickly and quickly put the container of goodies down. He didn’t trust his shaking hands not to drop them. “Nice to meet you.”

           “Whoa, are you an artist?” James asked, noticing the pen in Remus’ hand. “Do you think you could design something for us?”

           “James, don’t impose,” Sirius said, crossing his arms over his chest.

           “I’m not imposing!” James insisted, turning and shooting Sirius a look. “We’ll pay for the work. It’s just right now our menus are so bland! They don’t really say ‘Padfoot and Prongs’ Patisserie.”

           “That’s a fancy name,” Remus said, tucking the pen behind his ear so that he could shove his hands in his pockets. Suddenly they’d gotten all sweaty.

           “Yeah well, this wanker is half French, so he wouldn’t let me call it a pastry shop,” James said teasingly. “By the way, you haven’t told us your name.”

           “Oh,” Remus said, realizing that James was right. He shuffled his feet slightly and kind of wished James and Sirius would leave. He hadn’t had such a long social interaction in months. This was getting to be a bit much, and James’ enthusiasm was draining. “Remus. Remus Lupin.”

           “So do you think you can design something for our menus?” James asked excitedly, his hazel eyes big behind his glasses.

           “Um, sure, I’ll take a stab at it,” Remus offered, even though he kind of didn’t want to. He had deadlines to meet and he was already a little behind. But then James and Sirius had brought him baked goods without having even met Remus before. Besides, how hard could designing a menu be?

           “Great!” James said, slapping Sirius on the back. “Isn’t that great, Padfoot?”

           Sirius sighed. “Sure is.”

           Remus pulled out his wallet and handed James one of his business cards. It had been Benjy’s idea that Remus get them. This was only the second Remus had even given out. The first one had been given the Benjy. What a waste of money.

           “My email is at the bottom,” Remus explained, pointing to it on the card. “Just send me the details of what you want and I’ll work something up.”

           Sirius tilted his head to the side. “What are your rates?”

           “Um…” Fuck, Remus hadn’t exactly thought about it. He knew what he charged per page on his web comic but this was completely different. “How about you just, um, let me get a free baked good from time to time and we’ll call it even?”

           “Of course!” James said, nodding emphatically.

           “Hold on,” Sirius interjected, putting his hand up to stop James. “For the rest of time you want free shit from us? Just for a doodle?”

           “Sirius –“ James cut in, his face slightly aghast at his friend’s harsh tone.

           “I – I won’t abuse it or anything,” Remus said, feeling his face heat. Christ, the way Sirius was looking at him made him nervous. “It won’t be every day or anything like that.”

           Sirius huffed and turned his face away. “Fine. But I reserve the right to cut you off.”

           “Okay.”

           “Perfect,” James said, tugging on Sirius’ arm. “We should get back downstairs. We’ve still got a lot to do before we open. I’ll email you later, Remus!”

           “Sounds good,” Remus said, waving after them as they started down the fire escape. The moment he closed the door, he felt like he could breathe a little easier. He didn’t know what Sirius’ problem was, but the fewer interactions Remus had with him the better.

                                                           ***

           Remus finished up the latest update for his comic and sat back with a groan. It was already 10:30 at night and Remus hadn’t had any dinner. For once he had been in a good flow and hadn’t wanted to stop. Now his stomach was so empty it hurt. He couldn’t remember eating breakfast either.

           He walked over to where he had left the baked good James had dropped off and carried the container into bed. He sat munching on them as he scrolled through his phone. He had eaten about half of them when he remembered James was supposed to contact him. He pulled up his email and sure enough there was a message from James Potter.

           Apparently they wanted something kind of classy involving a buck and a black dog. Remus was intrigued, and popped a custard crème into his mouth. Their stuff really was mouth-wateringly good. Remus was glad he had asked for pastries instead of cash. While he could use the money, he tended to live on instant noodles and bacon sandwiches. Having something from the bakery from time to time would be a real treat.

                                                           ***

           Remus’ flat was on the top floor of the building and it meant he had almost exclusive rooftop access. He hadn’t done much with it except put out a table and two chairs. He really only went out there to smoke anyway. He stood by the side of the roof with his elbows on the ledge, watching the street below, his cigarette resting between his lips.

           Sirius exited the bakery and walked down the side alley of the building. He seemed to be having a heated discussion with someone on the phone. Remus felt himself tracking Sirius with his eyes, even though he didn’t mean to.

           “Damn it, Reg, I already told you –“ Sirius seemed to be cut off by the other person on the phone. “I don’t care if they cut me off. I’m not going on a blind date that my mum set up with a woman! I haven’t lived in that house for five years and she still thinks she can control me. Now she’s even roping you into it.”

           Remus felt a bit bad for eavesdropping, but the street was relatively quiet at that time of day, so it was difficult not to hear. Remus wondered why Sirius had said woman like that, as if he were offended by being set up with someone female. Remus didn’t want to get his hopes up that Sirius might also be gay. Thinking that was a dangerous route to go down. He tried to finish up his cigarette and go back inside before he was spotted, but it seemed Sirius was done with his conversation. He dropped his phone by his side and looked up at the sky. His eyes seemed to immediately land on Remus and Remus felt his cheeks heat up in response. He took a slow drag of his ciggy and let it out, letting his eyes drift away as if he hadn’t just been staring.

           He wasn’t wholly surprised when he heard footsteps making their way up the fire escape. He finished his cigarette and lit another one. He usually didn’t chain smoke like this, considering all the nicotine often made him dizzy, due to how little he ate most days. He turned when Sirius made it onto the roof and somehow managed to meet Sirius’ accusing stare.

           “How much of that did you hear?” Sirius asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.

           Remus scratched his cheek with his free hand. “Uh, the whole thing?”

           Sirius sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Can I bum one of those?”

           Remus opened the pack and shook one out towards Sirius. Sirius slid it between his lips and leaned in when Remus flicked the lighter to light it. Remus hadn’t noticed it the first time they met, but Sirius had grey eyes. Remus had never seen someone with eyes like that before.

           Remus had no idea what to say, so he just continued smoking, watching Sirius out of his peripheral vision. It was a little awkward, but not unbearably so, and it seemed Sirius was happy to smoke in silence. Sirius’ apron was covered in flour, and what Remus hoped was jam of some kind. not something more nefarious based on its red colour. The last thing he needed was a Sweeney Todd situation in his building.

           Remus and Sirius finished their cigarettes at the same time and both killed them in the ashtray. They were standing so close, should to shoulder, and Remus had no idea why that made his heart race. He turned towards Sirius in order to say his goodbyes, and suddenly Sirius was even closer.

           “Well, I should –“

           Remus didn’t finish that sentence as Sirius was leaning in. He was moving with intent and his lips just barely brushed against Remus’. Remus gasped, the sound getting swallowed up as Sirius’ lips pressed more firmly against Remus’. Remus let himself enjoy it for a moment, Christ, it had been so long since he’d kissed someone, before he brought himself back to his sense.

           “What are you doing?” he demanded, pushing Sirius away.

           Sirius’ eyes searched Remus’ for a moment and then he took another step back. “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I don’t even have an excuse.”

           Remus grinned as he watched Sirius flounder for a moment. He decided to let Sirius off the hook. It was just a little kiss after all. “Hey, I’m almost done with the menu design. Do you want to see it?”

           The tension in Sirius’ shoulders ebbed at Remus’ offer. “Yeah, sure.”

           Remus told Sirius to sit down at the little table while Remus went inside to get his tablet. He brought it out and sat down across from Sirius. He opened up the menu design and placed it in front of Sirus. He was actually a little nervous as Sirius looked it over. It was a buck and a dog running through a forest surrounded by berry bushes. James had explained in the email that their homemade jam was a huge selling point for them and they wanted the menu to emphasize that.

           “It’s not too dark, is it?” Remus asked, chewing his bottom lip.

           “No, I think it’s perfect.” Sirius glanced up, and for the first time Remus had seen, Sirius smiled. “We’re doing a soft opening in two days. You should come.”

           “Will I have to pay?” Remus teased, resting his chin in his hand and looking at Sirius.

           Sirius laughed. “Fine, you don’t have to pay. What kind of pastry do you like best? I’ll make it for you.”

           Remus considered it for a moment. “Jammy dodgers.”

           Sirius’ grin widened. “You got it.”

                                                             ***

           Remus went to the soft opening, even though he hadn’t been around that many people in a while, and it put his social anxiety through the roof. He met James’ wife, Lily, and their son, Harry. He also met quite a few of James and Sirius’ closest friends. Even though everyone was very nice, Remus couldn’t help feeling a bit like an outsider.

           However, Remus didn’t miss the way that his jammy dodgers seemed to be the only ones with little hearts in the middle. That knowledge alone was enough to make him stick around.

                                                           ***

           Remus was in trouble. His web comic was about a werewolf and a vampire that fell in love with each other. The werewolf character struck a striking resemblance to Remus, although the character had Remus’ original hair colour. The idea had come to him based on his name. The vampire character, however, had short dark hair and red eyes. Yet, whenever Remus found himself drawing him, his hair seemed to be getting progressively longer for no discernable reason and his eyes seemed to be grey.

           It didn’t help that Remus saw Sirius pretty much every day. During his lunch break, Sirius would bring up something from the bakery, and they would sit together at the little table and eat and smoke. Remus had gotten to know Sirius, little by little, cracking away at Sirius’ shell to the gooey center underneath. Despite his first impression of Sirius, and his original cold exterior, Remus found the man himself was mushy and romantic and sweet.

           Remus told Sirius about the fact that he’d always meant to make a little rooftop garden, but as of yet hadn’t really gotten around to buying any plants. Sirius showed up the next day with a little tree.

           “It’s called Dogwood,” he’d said with a knowing grin. He had continued to buy Remus several flowers and plants since then. He’d even brought some herbs for cooking, even though Remus insisted he didn’t really cook. Every time Sirius and Remus found a place for the new plant, Sirius would get that same smile. A smile that had started to cause butterflies in Remus’ stomach.

           There was no talk about the conversation Remus had overheard or of the kiss they’d shared. Remus figured both topics were off limits.

           Maybe that’s why he couldn’t get Sirius out of his head.

                                                           ***

           Remus dropped his head back and groaned. “I told you if you didn’t stop me I would eat all six éclairs.”

           “An impressive feat,” Sirius said, grinning behind his wine glass as he took a sip.

           “I hate you,” Remus said, scrubbing his hand over his face. He was starting to sweat a bit from overeating. “I’m going to put on so much weight.”

           “You could use some more meat on your bones,” Sirius responded with a shrug. “You barely eat as it is.”

           “I was right, this is a Sweeney Todd situation, you’re fattening me up to put me in a pie,” Remus bemoaned, clutching his stomach. That last éclair had really done him in.

           “We don’t even serve meat pies at the bakery,” Sirius said in amusement. “I think you’re safe.”

           “I’m not buying it,” Remus said, staring at Sirius accusingly. “Why else would you bring me all these sweets?”

           Sirius glanced away, twirling his wine glass between his fingers. “For an excuse to come see you.”

           “Oh,” Remus said, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Really?”

           Sirius stood up and walked over to Remus, placing his hand on the back of Remus’ chair, and leaning into him. “So, I made a mess of our first kiss. Think you might let me try again?”

           “Um.” Remus stared up at Sirius and let out a shaky breath. “Yes. W-we can do that.”

           Sirius slid his fingers through Remus’ curls until his hand came to rest at the back of Remus’ head. Then he guided their lips together into a soft kiss. Remus opened his mouth first, and Sirius was quick to follow suit, their tongues meeting in a mixture of chocolate, wine and cigarettes. Remus eagerly chased the taste from Sirius’ mouth.

           Sirius pulled back after a few life-altering moments. Remus felt his eyes flutter open to find that Sirius was smiling at him. God, Remus loved it when Sirius smiled. “I could eat you up, I really could,” Sirius sang softly.

           Remus busted out laughing. “Do not sing Sweeney Todd at me when you’re trying to be romantic.”

           Sirius chuckled and pulled Remus up into a hug. “Noted. Should I just tell you I love you then?”

           Remus hugged Sirius back, burying his face in Sirius’ neck, ignoring the deep blush currently on his face. “I-I think that would work.”

           “Well?” Sirius asked expectantly, turning his face and pressing a kiss to Remus’ forehead.

           Remus hugged Sirius tighter. “I love you too.”

           Remus stood there, in a moment so like a fairy tale that he didn’t want it to end, wishing he could freeze time. He stood in the moonlight, embracing the man he had come to adore, surrounded by all the plants Sirius had bought just for him. It felt like more than Remus deserved, but he wasn’t about to let it go. He could only hope the next moment would be just as sweet.  

[stardancerluv]

When Gotham Almost Won

Summary: You are Roman’s weakness.

Arthur’s Note: This is after Creative Fervor & Sugary Kisses and Broken Glasses, but is before Roman’s Luck is His Lady & Gotham Lockdown 2020

A glass went sailing past you. “Why don’t you fucking understand ?”

“No one fucking cares about me!” You hollered back.

He came around his desk. He grabbed you before you could draw a breath. His gloved hands wrapped around you, and he shook you. “Yes, they fucking do.”

You could not bite back, the sound the pain it pulled from you. He barely flinched. Roman was in the midst of one of his blind angry tirades. Sometimes, you couldn’t even get him out of them.

“Fucking listen.” He shook you again. “I am in a war to gain the upper hand for Gotham.” His breath was hot in your face, when he exhaled. “You are my only weakness.”

That echoed in your heart. The screaming hadn’t, him holding you as he was which would most likely leave bruises didn’t but those words did.

You wilted, you stopped fighting.

“If anyone fucking grabbed you it would be over.” He stopped, and finally noticed that you gave up. “Y/N?”

“Alright.” You finally said. Your voice was scratchy from screaming. “I believe you. I won’t let them get the upper hand.”

He sighed and smiled. “That’s my girl.” His hands released you. But he wrapped his arms around you. As he held you, you could feel how hard and fast his heart was beating. You weakly hugged him back.

******

You waited till you heard his breathing deepened and evened. Very carefully, you slipped out of the bed you shared with Roman.

Grabbing a small bag, you packed a silly tshirt he bought you at The Booby Trap. Across the front, in bright colors it exclaimed that you both survived, its famous roller coaster.

Next, with tears in your eyes, you grabbed Millie and Max the stuffed cows he had won for you. Those two days at the Booby Trap, it felt like you were just a normal couple in love. Not of one where you were dating the infamous Roman Sionis

It had just been you and him, no fancy suits, and no fake smiles. It was a special time for the two of you, away from all of it.

All the while in the back of his mind, you were his weakness. No wonder, he had laughed when you were scared in the haunted house. The real threat, you should have been scared of was the Joker or Scarecrow. Unlike the fake monsters in the haunted house, one of them could snatch you away and kill you.

You loved him enough to not be what could bring him down, after all he had worked for.

Quickly, you slipped warmer clothes over what you had worn to bed. With tears sliding down your cheeks you watched, as Roman grumbled something incoherently in his sleep before be grew silent once again and you zipped up your boots. Grabbing, your purse you then went over to his office.

Looking, through his stuff you found sheets of paper with his initials embossed in an elegant black script.

Roman

I love you.

But that is why I have left.

Your club, your life should not be brought down by me, your only weakness.

Don’t go looking for me.

Let me read in the papers how you made them pay and how you became the king of Gotham.

I love you, goodbye.

Y/N

Your hand shook writing this. It really hurt. You had not expected to love him ever this much. Damn, you never thought it would last more then a month. Eight months of being with Roman had been amazing.

His darkness and his surprising tenderness was all you had ever needed. He cared and loved you the way you wanted.

Grabbing another sheet of paper. You quickly scrawled the following.

Roman Sionis is becoming fucking unstoppable.

You all better watch out.

Sincerely the girl who once got to love him.

You put that note into his fax machine. You didn’t care if that would severe any future job prospects with any of them. You also made sure it was emailed to all the important people.

It would be for the best if they all knew you were over and who’s side you were on.

Instead of taking the elevator, you took the stairs. As the frigid air pulled hard on you. But you managed to hail a cab to your studio.

It was ice cold in your studio. You no longer kept anything important there, except supplies. You would have to make it your home again. Right now, this was seriously more painful then you ever imagined it would be.

Going, over to your sofa you practically collapsed onto it. You pulled down the knitted blanket. You got Millie the purple cow out of your bag.

Opening, the drawer of the end table by the sofa. You felt around. It was where you kept your melatonin, feeling the small jar you smiled.

Sometimes when you worked hard, your excitement over a new project it would steal sleep from you. So the melatonin helped! You took two tablets.

Now you wanted to sleep to forget. You wanted to not feel any pain. Maybe when you’d wake up, knowing you made the right decision, perhaps you then would not be in so much pain.

*******

Roman, rolled over and pulled you close; still half asleep. “I’m sorry I got so angry. Let’s stay in and forget the world baby.” He squeezed you. “Watch bad tv, maybe have a pizza made and not even chan...” His eyes snapped open. He pushed away the pillow, he had mistaken in his sleepy state as you.

Panic seized him, he took a breath. Maybe you were you up and working in your temporary studio or perhaps you were making breakfast.

Stretching, he ran his fingers through his hair. Wondering where you were he went in search of you.

You were nowhere. Hot anger and worry filled him. He had thought, you finally realized you couldn’t just run off. You needed Zsasz or someone with you. Or at the very least tell him.

Going, to his office he didn’t care how early it fucking was, he needed a drink. Never did he think, this would happen to him. He fucking, cared for you as much as he cared about himself. Well, if her were to be honest, he cared for you more.

He knew what he was capable of and he was fully aware what he’d do to maintain his control. You did not deserve to suffer anything because he was a cruel man.

He stopped, when he saw a bunch of faxes coming in fast. Some had had already fallen to the ground pushed aside from the faxes that came before it. The single sheet of paper in the middle of his desk made him curious. This was not how he had left his office.

A scream erupted from him before he even finished reading the fucking note. He crumpled it and ran back to the bedroom.

Once in the closet, he saw that you had taken Millie and Max, this was serious. He tore off his pajamas, and pulled on some clothes.

Opening, a drawer he took out his wallet, a set keys and one of his custom made hand guns, which he made sure was loaded. Eyeing the elevator, he decided to take the stairs. He took the stairs two at a time.

******

Leaving the parking garage, the sun momentarily blinded him. Blinking he watched the traffic and merging, he was off to get you back. He knew exactly where you’d go.

It did not take long for him to get over to where your studio was. He remembered that first time be went there with you.

There he had watched as you remained strong. You showed him the aftermath of what a former friend; a now serious competition had done. Your studio had been destroyed. You had not let it destroy you.

At that point, he had been incredibly sexually attracted to you. It was easy you were by far loviest girl he laid his eyes on.

Though watching you as you took in all the damage; especially to those prized scissors he thought you could be the one. Over the course of these eight months, you knew now that you were the one.

With every fiber of who he was, he wanted to protect you from all that he was. You were the reason why finally felt fear. He knew what he was capable of, so he was keenly aware what they could do to you. The idea caused bile rise in his mouth, he swallowed it down.

Cutting the engine, he got out of the car. He hoped that maybe you had left the door unlocked.

You had not. Good baby, he mused at least you had done that.

He remembered you had a spare key, luckily it was still there. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he saw you.

Once, inside he locked the door behind him. He walked over to your spiral staircase. He wrapped hands wrapping around the cool metal of the railing.

A soft sigh, came from behind him. He went over to the sofa, looking over he saw you there.

The blanket barely covered you, you held onto Millie and anguish was splashed across your face. Usually when you slept, he always had enjoyed seeing how peaceful you were. He hated seeing the pain.

He came around, and knelt beside the sofa. He watched you longer.

“Y/N,” He finally said your name. “Wake up we have to talk.”

You didn’t stir. “Y/N, baby wake up.”

You stirred.

“There you are.”

Blinking your eyes opened, as you saw him and turned away. “What are you doing here?” He heard you ask, despite being muffled by the sofa cushions.

Taking a breath, he reached and turned you to face him. You fought. “Listen, we have to talk.” He tried again.

Your eyes burned, when you finally relented and faced him. Your hair was a wild, he would have pulled you close for a kiss if it had been any other time.

“Y/N.” He still didn’t know what else to say, he honestly thought he had said it all yesterday.

“You made it clear, I am your weakness. So I left.” Your voice was clipped.

“You are.” He agreed. He saw the fire in your eyes flicker.

“So then let me go.” You swallowed.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, because I could ruin everything.”

“How would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Now look,” You had really ensnared him as he looked at you. He couldn’t imagine not having you at his side. “You are my weakness because I care about you. You don’t make me weak.”

Confusion crossed your face.

Finally, he was sure he understood. “Before you, there was nothing they could use to fight me. Blow up my club, my car? I can replace all of that.”

Swallowing, he had thought you knew that. He thought you knew how he felt. The words lingered on his tongue.

“Listen,” He inhaled then exhaled. “Fuck,” He barked. “If they did anything you, I wouldn’t want anyone else after you.”

“Roman!” You cried and launched yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around him, you held on tight. Your breath was warm as it tickled his throat as you exhaled. “Really?” You whispered.

“Yes, you silly girl. I want you by my side as I take over Gotham.” He chuckled and you held onto him tighter.

*****

Once outside, beside his car he pulled your woolen cap down further on your head. You smiled up at him as he did. “Let’s get you home where you belong.”

“I promise I won’t leave. And I’ll be careful when I do.”

“You better not.” Tilting your head up. He watched as the sun danced across your face. He pressed a kiss to your lips, as a gust of icy wind swirled around the two of you.

******

He had been eyeing that last piece of the pizza for awhile. You had not made a move for it and neither had he in case you also wanted it. From now on he’d have to tell the chef, equal pieces. This just wasn’t fair.

Leaning over holding your legs in his lap, he grabbed the remote. He paused the movie.

You looked over at him. “Should I grab us some ice cream?” Your eyes were playful.

He pointed. “But there is still a slice of pizza.”

“After that big bowl of popcorn and the pizza, I really have a hankering for ice cream.”

“You’ll get cold.” Whenever you ate it, you ended shivering even before you’d finish a bowl.

“You’ll just have to warm me up.”

Smirking, moving he easily came over to your side of the sofa. As he looked down at you, he brushed aside you hair that fell into your face. Damn, he loved looking at you. He pressed a kiss to your lips.

“What about the pizza?” You giggled, lightly.

“I think I found something tastier.”

He kissed you again this time as he did you easily deepened it. He smiled against your lips when he felt your fingers nestle in his hair.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r

[blishwix]

❝ WE ARE ALL WEARING MASKS. THAT IS WHAT MAKES US INTERESTING ❞

huh, who’s LUKE MITCHELL? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually JIMBO “WICK” BLISHWICK VI. he is a 35 year old PUREBLOOD wizard who is CEO OF A WIXEN TECH & MEDIA COMPANY. he is known for being CALCULATING, FRAUDULENT, HEDONISTIC, CONCEITED, and AMORAL but also CHARISMATIC, AMBITIOUS, INNOVATIVE, METICULOUS, and PERSONABLE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song IT’S LONELY AT THE TOP BY BIG BAD VOODOO DADDY and STYLISHLY RIPPED JEANS AND SUEDE SHOES, PURELY AESTHETIC AND MISLEADING SOCIAL MEDIA FEED, NEATLY TRIMMED BEARD AND SANDALWOOD MUSK, HORN RIMMED GLASSES WITH SMUDGES ON THE LENS, MOLESKIN FULL OF ENDLESS CODE AND FUTURE TECH INNOVATIONS, EXTRAVAGANT PENTHOUSE OVERLOOKING THE CITY, WHISKEY STONES AND EMPTY DECANTERS, and CHARMING PERSONABLE SMILES WITH MALICIOUS INTENT HIDDEN UNDERNEATH THE SURFACE. i hear he is aligned with THE DEATH EATERS, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Jimbo Dashiel Bartholomew Blishwick VI NICKNAME(S): Wick, Jim, Dash, Bart (yes he legit will go by any of these) AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 35, 02/16/1994 OCCUPATION: Tech & Media Mogul GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him/His HOMETOWN: Dallas, Texas CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, I guess ALMA MATTER: Ilvermorny, Horned Serpent BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

BIOGRAPHY

MEET JIMBO BLISHWICK: THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHANGING THE WIZARDING WORLD ONE STATUS UPDATE AT A TIME. 

I’m not sure exactly what to expect when the invitation comes in. It seems archaic to be communicating over owl. There was even a part of me that thought I should revert to the “email” form which my subject is so fond of. What if the wixen tech mogul’s fondness for typing meant he had poor penmanship? To my delight not only was Mr. Blishwick’s handwriting clear as day, but it came with a gleeful acceptance to be interviewed. So it was on that high note that I made my way to Blishwix HQ in London to meet with the illustrious CEO. What I had expected was some pristine corporate office with dark leather and wood accents, sterile and admittedly cold and disconnected from the world. What I was met with was surprising. Blishwix is anything but old school in its style. Much like the young hip branding that accompanies its many products and services, the corporate HQ of Blishwix is sleek, modern and very accessible. It’s a open space of mostly glass walls, the bull pen dotted with standing desks and stability balls replacing wheeling chairs. Towards the entrance to the main floor there is a food bar, one which changes weekly I’m told. This week it’s a cereal bar, last week it was a sushi bar, the next week it’s expected to be a pho bar. Employees are scattered around it with tablets and laptops, giddily conversing around mouthfuls of rainbow marshmallows and corn flakes. There’s also several corners tucked away with velvet cushions where some team members curl up with headphones and e-readers or handheld video game consoles. Designated comfort zones, the tour guide describes them as. It’s the Blishwix goal to make sure the employees are all comfortable, so whenever they get stressed out or overwhelmed, there’s always a little place they can escape to in order to calm their nerves. In truth, Blishwix looks less like a company and more like an urban hang out for pretty hipsters in crop tops and flannels. Surely the big man on top would have a more professional set up, right? 

Even the display in the bull pen did not prepare me for Jimbo Blishwick’s personal office. It’s one of a few closed off areas to the side of the floor, wide with tall glass walls over looking the bull pen, and predominately empty save for another bean sack, a slim desktop atop a standing desk, and a row of bookcases displaying dozens upon dozens of novels, all of which I can’t place and among the only print media to be found anywhere in Blishwix. “They’re muggle books,” says a voice from behind. When I turn and get a first glance at the figure leaning casually against the glass door to the office, my gut instinct is that this is just another one of those twenty something year olds squeezing stress balls on the work floor. He’s tall, wearing a handmade beanie in a burnt orange color -- One that is, frankly, not a good pair with his golden hair. His neatly trimmed beard and horned rimmed glasses speak of an elegance that doesn’t exactly match the acid wash tattered jeans or the faded t shirt worn under an oversized cream cardigan. The shirt is colorful and bears a phrase that doesn’t come easy to me. Woodstock. Perhaps this is another “muggle thing”. It isn’t until he draws close enough that I recognize the bare footed man. It’s Jimbo Blishwick himself. “Call me Wick,” he easily responds to my surprised expression, knowing full well he wasn’t what I expected. Instead of holding out a hand in a formal handshake and then pulling up a chair for the interview, he engulfs me in a hug and ushers me into the love sack. It’s awkward at first, but eventually I melt into it. It’s just as comfortable as it looks, and their use in the designated comfort zones make more sense to me now. Wick opts to sit crosslegged on the floor, a large coffee in one hand and a bowl of granola balanced on his thighs. He sips the coffee as my eyes wander the space, finding small and interesting little things to ask him about. 

The first thing that draws my attention is a set of crystals sitting on the top of his desk, and when I ask he lets out a howling laugh that echos throughout the office, surely drawing the attention of his hard playing -- and hardly working -- employees beyond the glass walls. “Oh, I had a bit of a headache,” he says with a somewhat amused grin. “My wife said they might help.” The wife in question isn’t some darling stay at home mom you might expect. In Wick’s own words: She’s the reason the “Boss Girl” phrase was invented. Selene Blishwick is as shrewd a business person as her husband is, and perhaps a bit more progressive. As I attempt to shift a bit in the cushion, Wick relays some confidential information about some of their upcoming branding collaborations. Each is more unconventional than the last, and they all have one vital thing in common: Selene Blishwick is the one that found them. I’d go into detail, but Wick swears it would become a marital problem if I spill the big secrets before they’re due to come out. Instead he offers a sly grin and taps a single finger to his lips. “Our little secret, then you can be the cool hip one among your friends who knew all about it before it came out.” An exciting proposition, though I realize that I do need something I can share with the public from this visit, and as Wick’s bowl of dry granola gets emptier I fear I’m running out of time. So I set out to do what I’d planned: a profile on the CEO of Wizarding London’s premiere tech company. 

When I ask Wick what was the event that kickstarted his long journey to bringing the wixen world into the 21st Century, he answers in one simple phrase: “A pen pal program.” I was surprised to say the least, but it all became more transparent as I urged him to elaborate. What ensues is a story about the overweight son of a MACUSA politician who was teased and bullied all his life and struggled to maintain platonic connections. “I had no friends,” he says, a sad truth but it comes out with a light and airy laugh. “But I didn’t make it quite easy for people to be my friend.” Despite his laid back and easy going charm, Wick reveals a disabling shyness and insecurity that kept him from engaging with the world. The only one privy to his thoughts and personality was the journal he carried with him wherever he went. “I always thought I sounded better on print than in person. I could be whoever I wanted to be on paper -- Handsome, smart, clever and fun. I just could never bring that outwards, you know?” I think we can all sympathize with the young Blishwick’s plight. It didn’t help that he had quite the shoes to fill. Sixth in his line, the Jimbos that came before the media mogul were all tied to American politics. They’re all charming and ambitious men, but Wick says he just didn’t have it in him to be a lawmaker. “Big Daddy” -- yes, that’s the moniker his father, Jimbo the fifth, goes by -- “He’s just built to be a Senator, I’m just the apple that fell a little too far from that tree.” Secluded and distant, educators began to worry that Wick’s development would be halted by the lack of socialization between him and his peers. So one Ilvermorny professor had suggested Wick be one of a handful of students elected to partake in a cross continental penpal program. “Fabricating friendship,” he called it. What they didn’t know is that the program would lead to a lot more. When I ask him who his first penpal is, if it’s someone he still has direct contact with, he lets another one of those amusing grins slip. “Oh yeah, very much so. I’m actually married to her.” 

A fifth year at Ilvermorny, Wick was matched with a Hogwarts student a handful of years younger than him by the name of Selene Rowle. According to Wick, their correspondence lasted throughout both of their schooling and beyond, until he had taken a chunk out of his trust fund in order to travel to the United Kingdom to meet in person. He says that’s the only time he used his family’s money to get where he is now -- literally using it to transport across the Atlantic. Leaving behind his family’s estate in Texas and the promising job at MACUSA his father had acquired for him, Wick came to London in order to meet his long distance friend for the first time. The only person “who really knew what he was about” he says. I ask if it was for romantic reasons. He thinks about it while he sips his drink. “I guess in hindsight it does seem a little romantic.” Whatever his reasons, Wick came and he never turned back. He said that one of the first times they interacted in person, he and his future bride had lamented on their past communication and the long waits between letters. “We felt like we’d left things off on cliff hangers so often, and you’d have to wait forever just to get some kind of answer to those burning questions the last letter gave you. It was one of the most frustrating things.” The pair wondered what it would have been like if there had been a more instantaneous way to talk with wizards across the globe. After all, Wick had concluded, the muggles did it just fine. During his teen years, the Texan said he had grown very interested in what nonmagical civilization was like. A “No-Maj Studies Class”, as they call the Muggle Studies program in the states, had a unit on the technological advances of the nonmagical community during much of the modern era. The professors tried to teach the students that this was all building towards a very dangerous threat to the magical community: exposure and the fast spreading of information over the internet. Wick saw something different. “As I thought about how I wished I had a better gateway to my penpal during my teen years, I just kept thinking about how muggles had that already figured out. They could instantly send letters to anyone anywhere in the world. No long wait times for traveling owls or anything like that. It was instantaneous.... And why shouldn’t we be like that?” 

It was this very thought that birthed the company the Blishwicks lead now. 

So how do you bring the magical world safely into the 21st Century as dictated by the nonmagical? That was no easy feat. For his part, Wick said he had to learn all about something that didn’t exist in their world, something that didn’t interact well with magic. And how do you study muggle tech without magic interfering? Simple: You “become a muggle”. That’s when I realized there was a book I recognized on his eclectic shelf of reading material. Daisy Hookum’s best seller My Life as a Muggle. It’s the first book on the shelf, in the most pristine condition. A first edition, and it’s even signed by the author herself, though Wick doesn’t remember the meeting. It has a simple message in it: I hope you enjoy the time you spend in the nonmagical world and make memories as fond as my own. “Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I did tell her I was also voluntarily giving up magic in order to help kickstart my company.” He says it with an air of unfamiliarity, like he only vaguely remembers the moment. Still, he presses on with the story. A controversial choice for the son of a self proclaimed “conservative-traditional” pureblood senator, Wick was shortly disowned by the American Blishwicks for his choice to give up his magic for two and a half years to live among the muggles. But it had purpose. “I may have lied my way into an internship with a tech company in Edingbrugh. I was trying to learn as much as I could about this muggle innovation. If I wanted to create something similar for our community, I needed to master their version.” He says it took more than the two years he gave himself to live among them, and he’s still studying it to this day, but after that amount of time he had the ground work he needed to then create his tech and media empire. The biggest obstacle wasn’t even in creating the highly secret magically encrypted network which allows smart phones to be used in the wizarding world. No, for Wick the biggest hurdle to pass over was the longstanding traditional values the community had. “I think there’s an innate fear in not just advancing the community, but in mirroring any sort of progress than the muggles have done. There’s nothing wrong with it, I mean we have adapted enough of their inventions into our own world already so why not take it a step further?” He refers to radio and electric hook ups that appeared in a lot of wixen homes in the past century. 

Blishwix started out small, creating and selling smart phones and desktops primarily with the idea in mind to change the way we communicate. Email was one of those first muggle digital contraptions that made its way into the wixen mainstream and has stayed, but within a short decade the company’s offerings expanded to mirror exactly what the digital world of the muggles looks like now. It’s becoming more and more rare to see wixen without a Loquix* in hand, or a Blishwix desktop at home. The Wixpix social media app, in which users post photos taken from the cameras on their cellular devices and add witty captions which can then be “liked” or “commented” on by users across the globe, continues to grow in popularity. And now the media and tech giant is rolling out a “streaming platform” -- a sort of home theater in the form of an app that catalogues film and television programs created by wixen for wixen. There’s Accio, an application that allows you to ask random questions and receive an answer instantly; Portky** which allows users to request forms of transportation when they desperately need it, including ministry-approved portkeys (or so it claims, we haven’t used it yet here at the Prophet). There’s even applications for those lonely wixen looking to find a love connection. Erised is one such app where user profiles are made with a handful of photos, a small ‘about me’ section, and a few small details that can be provided to prospective dates in order to help connect those with similar interests and hobbies. The married Wick does not have an Erised profile, but his assistant allows me to scroll through her’s and even swipe a few times on other profiles. I accidentally match her to someone she admits she can’t see herself interested in, but we all have a good laugh about it. These are only a few of many “experiences”, as Wick refers to them, offered by the company in order to branch the magical people from across the globe. “What is more beautiful than seeing people from different cultural backgrounds and walks of life coming together and sharing ideas and thoughts so quickly?” I realize as I’m sitting there in that bean cushion, scrolling through a prototype of the next Blishwix tablet that I know so little about the world beyond my little corner of it. I suddenly understand Wick’s enthusiasm about expanded communication. 

It’s all pretty exciting to see coming together, it’s almost impossible to understand what more could be done by Blishwix. So when I ask him what’s next, Wick gets a very eager look in his eyes. “There’s a lot of places we still don’t have our tech in that I think would be all the better for it,” he solemnly reveals, and I’m shocked to hear it. Since visiting Blishwix, I have seen their product seemingly in every corner of Wizarding London I explore daily. Who isn’t using connected to their expansive network at this point? “I would love to do a partnership with the Ministry. As the governing body, I feel like we can offer them so much that could continue to further develop the community and continue progressing us into the future. If we could get our desktops in every Ministry Department, we can further the sort of work that keeps our world moving. Just imagine how we could expand Law Enforcement, Education or Wellfare departments if we can make all the relevant information they need all the more accessible to their employees? Think about how much easier it would be for them to process information on our fast and reliable network.” 

On the topic of Education, Wick reveals his ambitions don’t stop with the Ministry. “I would love to see Blishwix in schools like Hogwarts,” he says, revealing what may be the biggest bombshell yet. “This whole dream started because of a chubby boy who had no friends in school and wanted a faster way to communicate with the one he made far away. I think a lot about that and how my life would have been different had I had this kind of technology available to me. If there are lonely kids like me who could have that, or even kids who are just struggling to get the information they need to be successful in school, and I could give them what they need to advance in life? Then I could say I’ve done what I initially set out to do. Until that day, I would say that Blishwix hasn’t been a success yet. Even teachers could benefit from the use of the internet and all the resources we have out there which we now have access to.” I begin to wonder if the technological genius is actually more of a philanthropist. “I don’t know, you tell me,” he quips when I muse out loud. Our interview comes to a halt by this point, and I’m left with so many more questions. What is Blishwix cooking up for the wizarding world next? What kind of innovations will define the company’s next decade? These, and so many more, questions are left unanswered as I walk out of Blishwix HQ, a takeaway bowl of fruity cereal in one hand and my previous generation Loquix in the other (scrolling through shopping apps in order to find that “love sack” I spent much of the afternoon lounging in).

The same day I begin writing this piece out, Blishwix has announced the Loquix VI, their most advance smartphone yet. They livestream details of their upgraded OS and hardware reveal on the company’s social media, an event I watch while typing this article up on my worn out typewriter. Halfway through and I’m out of ribbon, and I silently curse myself as I order a new set online. All the while the Blishbook Pro is being revealed on the stream, its sleek wireless keyboard and slim expandable monitor shimmering under the stage lights. I join in with the loud gasps from the shareholders crowding the conference room where the event is being held. The irony of this isn’t lost on me, and as I sit here writing out these last few paragraphs with a quill in my cramped hand I begin to realize exactly why I admire Jimbo Blishwick and his forward thinking. At least he’s not sitting here with ink blotches in obscene places, running to his editor’s office just barely before deadline with a mess of typed and handwritten article. I remember in that moment, drenched in the rain while rushing through the offices of the Prophet, the first line in his owl response to my inquiry for the interview: 

You should have just emailed. 

Touché, Blishwick, touché. 

*Portky app idea comes courtesy of Kim ( @strvngemagics​ ) **Loquix phone name comes courtesy of Vic ( @cfdiggorys​ / @moodyparis​ / @aarlingtons​ ) Both gave permission to use / mention these galaxy brained concepts in the intro and credit for their conception goes to them. Thank you guys so much!!

TL;DR: Wick is full of shit. What can I say? Here’s the ‘Murrican lad who claims to be some hip and cool CEO of a wizarding tech and media company. Okay he’s I guess apple meets zuckerberg. Idk I’m not galaxy brained enough for this afheiahfpea hence the very oddly written bio. Wick’s a pureblood from america who supposedly forsake his family’s purist ways and then decided to create a company modeled after muggle tech in order to “bring the wizarding world into the modern era”. In actuality? He’s a fucking bigot who created a network that he could use to spy on people who may be enemies of the cause. At least that’s how it’s being factored into the DEs. His theme song is “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell bc he’s always watching you. Gives off this very laid back and down to earth and charming persona just so he can gain your trust and meanwhile he’s leaking your information to the DE and helping them further their agenda. Some extra tidbits not seen above: 

He’s got some daddy issues which are leaking into his parenting. Aka he is not exactly excited to be a father but you wouldn’t know that from his Wixpix feed which feature so many “cute” dad photos with his baby boy. In order for him to become his best self, his dad had to make his life a living hell and he believes that’s how he’s gonna have to handle Zephyr as well. 

He is smart, yes, but he’s not some brilliant innovator like the world thinks he is. His empire is built on stolen material which he simply “adapted” to the magical world. He’s not original, but he is clever. 

He’s not a fighter, clumsy with a wand, had a severe stutter as a kid which made it very hard for him to cast spells etc, so he avoids battle often and instead offers up his company more for espionage for the DEs. He’s better suited to behind the scenes mayhem, and that’s kind of the way he likes it. 

He’s a coward. He’s hiding behind computer screens and tbh if things get really sticky he’s likely to try and sell out the DE in order to save his skin. Has an escape plan to the states if things get really sticky but the likelihood of him succeeding are slim to none. 

He acts very charitable and humble and kind but he’s conceited as hell and he’s a real shady bitch sometimes. Talks shit on everyone behind their backs

He’s had a few affairs here and there despite being married. Even with that, he is in love with his wife and feels a sort of fealty towards her. She’s a very important part to the company, she’s pretty much the brand of it and so he relies on her a lot to help manufacture their image even just as individuals to help the rouse. 

BODY IMAGE TW/EATING DISORDER TW. Wick has some body image issues due to his past tbh. He got bullied a lot as a kid for being overweight and quiet, his solace was in food and he was a binge eater. As he got a bit older, he made some desperate choices in order to lose weight to gain a slimmer figure. It wasn’t healthy, it landed him in hospital a few times, and eventually he had to meet with nutrition specialists and therapists in order to work out a more healthy mindset on food. He’s still harbors body imagine issues, but he’s learned to be better about it. Still, he maintains a very strict diet and work out regime because he feels his image is one of the most important things about him. He did meet Selene when he was slim and athletic and therefore thinks it’s best he maintain the figure even just out of fear she wouldn’t find him attractive otherwise. 

is any of the stuff he said in this interview true? Idk, idk

Idk, I hate this man and this bio afheuiahfpea I’ll end up rewriting it eventually. 

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic LANGUAGES: English FAMILY: Jimbo Dashiel Bartholomew Blishwick V (but they call him “Big Daddy”; father), Cricket Blishwick née Berkeley (mother), Beaufort Harland Blishwick (younger brother), Cora-Lou Blishwick (younger sister), Selene Blishwick née Rowle (wife), Zephyr Blishwick (infant son), and by extension all the fucking Rowles I guess PETS: TBD FACE CLAIM: Luke Mitchell ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aquarius MBTI: hm PINTEREST: (coming soon)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

interns - a couple new grunts at the blishwix HQ. they can be any affiliation, but if they are DE affiliated then they’ll know a little bit more about what is going on behind closed doors at the company. could be fun for future plotting purposes. 

co conspirators - other DEs who similarly to wick lead a double life in the public eye. philanthropists, media stars, all sorts of “do gooders” who are banning together in order to break “harmful stigmas and stereotypes and join the wixen community globally”. blishwix mission statement aims to create a platform for wixen of all types across the world to interact free of prejudice and judgement and to bring the magical community into a modern era free of harmful ideologies. of course that’s a fucking lie, so if you play a baddy bad who’s pretending to be goody good then this could be a fun collaboration. 

partnerships - alternatively, let’s see some honest to good people and groups get schemed by these fuckers. this would involve some potential screwing over but no worries, at the end of the day blishwix will tank and then your character can get their sweet revenge on this man and his corrupt business. 

idk hmu with ideas. 

[minsugapie]

Mary’s Song: part 16b (3034 words) - Fighting

• • • • • •

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t just your anime-loving, manga-drawing, hair-pulling, ex-neighbour. You hadn’t even spoken to him since he had moved away. But the world worked in funny ways because...

He was probably the reason you were still alive. 

• • • • • •

“And our daddies used to joke about the two of us

Growing up and fallin' in love

And our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

And said, "Oh, my, my, my””

• • • • • •

previous // current \\ next

masterlist 

• • • • • •

Tags : @minhyuksfatgf @igotarmyofarohas @dixonsbugaboo @thealexalcala @salty-for-suga @worshiphoseok @okaysoplshelpme @jeonlovers @acupfullofsuga @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @hannahdinse8 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dammit-jjk​ @dreamcatcherjiah @xxxanimangxxx @wrmnssoul @ephyra1230 @imynnow @prdshobi @klverse @butterflylion @fuddyize @ahnneyong @nanie5 @squidyelmosquidbutt @uxwi 

• • • • • •

I feel so much internal embarrassment after writing this but yolo I guess… but uh yeah, this is SMUT so do with that what you will. 

**also this is unedited so sorry for mistakes. we all know im the queen of typos as it is...oof

• • • • • •

You’d just finished messaging Coven about what your plans were for tonight, and how you would go about it. However, your nerves were still on high-alert. Jungkook had denied you a few times now, and you knew that if this didn’t persuade him, then you’d be devastated. 

You realized he had his reasons, but you wanted him now. He was making it extremely difficult to continue being friends. There was just a point where you needed to evolve. At least you were sure that you’d go crazy if you had to keep pretending like you hadn’t been head over heels for  this boy since you were six…even with the large speed bump in between your meetings.

You sighed, finally getting up from the bed and deciding to do something. Jungkook was working at the desk in the living room, so you knew you wouldn’t be interrupted by him as you got the room, and yourself, ready. The first thing you did was make the bed tidy up the space, making sure that it was tidy before heading into the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at yourself in the mirror for a white a few minutes. You listened to a full song that Jungkook was drawing to before you took a deep breath and started the shower, getting your razor, shampoo, and body wash. You wanted it to be as perfect as possible; you wanted to look as perfect as possible. The shower that only normally took you a few minutes took longer than usual, and you hoped that he hadn’t realized. You spent extra time brushing your teeth and blowdrying your hair, too. 

Who were you kidding? He didn’t notice anything when he was drawing. 

You were again staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you should’ve put on makeup or not. You decided on makeup (but not an aggressive amount) because you wanted to have the whole experience of the beautiful lingerie that Cherry bought you. You thought it would look incomplete without it. 

Rushing back into the bedroom after you finished getting ready, you only briefly took a peak into the living room to see what Jungkook was doing. He hadn’t moved. Maybe he’d slouched over slightly, but that was it. 

Digging into the back of one of the drawers in the dresser that Jungkook bought for you, you found the box with the present inside. You took it out carefully, pulling it out and taking a good look at it. You wondered if you could even pull it off…if he would even like it. However, before you could back out, Cherry’s voice floated into the back of your mind, telling you that you were beautiful and that he’d love it. It was enough for you to drop the towel and put it on right then and there. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing you’d worn, but it wasn’t too bad. You let your fingers feel the fabric draping down your body and you hummed it approval. It looked exactly like the first time you’d tried it on, if not maybe slightly better after all this mental preparation that you did. 

You hung the towel on your hook before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. Yes, this would have to do. Taking your thousandth deep breath of the day, you made both your hands into fists and whispered, “Fighting!” 

There was a change of plans because you decided that calling him into the room wouldn’t get his attention like you wanted, so you changed tactics. Instead, you tiptoed out to where Jungkook was sitting, trying to be as quiet as you were able. Instead of just walking in front of you, you peeked your head over the side of his shoulder, taking a peak at what he was drawing. It was Honey, not that you figured it would be anything else. She was the main character of his webtoon. Yet, you’d noticed recently her becoming even more realistic…

“You smell nice. Did you have a shower?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the tablet. 

“I got ready…are you busy?” you asked, moving one of your hands around to his front and resting it on his chest. You briefly felt his heartbeat increase, giving you a slight boost of confidence. 

“I’m just drawing,” he answered, but you noticed his pen stop moving as your hand moved down his chest to feel his muscle. “What are you doing?” He added before you could answer. He grabbed your hand from on his chest and pulled you around so he could see you from the front. As soon as you came into view, he froze. 

“What do you think?” You asked, waiting for any sort of reaction from him that wasn’t only his face the was void of emotion. 

“What is that?” He asked, clearing his throat. You noticed his eyes wander around, stopping briefly on your breasts before forcefully moving back to your eyes. 

“Cherry bought this for me for Christmas,” you admitted, taking a small step towards him. He hopped out of his chair so quick that it almost fell over. He was acting as if you touch would set him on fire. 

“Cherry…” he swore, taking a step back again. Licking his lips once, he continued, “But why are you wearing it right now?” 

You cocked your head to the side, pushing some hair behind your shoulder. “What? You don’t like it?”

“No!” He answered a little too quickly. Realizing his betrayal, he added, “But shouldn’t that be saved for when you’re going to do something?”

Now you took another step towards him, grabbing his hand. He didn’t move; it was like he had no idea what to do. “What if I told you I was going to do something?”

“What do you mean?”

“…with you.” You finished, pulling him backwards towards the bedroom you shared. 

“Wait, what exactly is happening right now?” He asked, looking around the apartment like he needed to look at anything else but you. 

“You’re a smart boy, Bun, can’t you figure it out?” You asked, knowing you would eventually succeed when he tightly closed his eyes and threw his head back while still letting you drag him to the bedroom. 

“Honey, I can’t,” he said the dreaded words again, running his free hand through his wild hair. 

“If I hear that one more time,” you warned, pulling him closer to you. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, eyes still closed.

“D-do you not want to? Don’t lie to me, either. I can tell when you’re lying.”

He opened his eyes and made a face. “That’s what you’re worried about? That I don’t want to? Look at yourself, Honey, of course I want to. This is just so complicated.”

You took his arms and spun him around, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. “It’s really not…just stop thinking so much about what you think I want and do what you want for once.”

He stared up at you with his lips slightly parted. He seemed to be paralyzed for a minute, so you grabbed his hands again and led them to your hips. His eyes snapped to his hands, and he started to move them across the soft material. The material bunched under his palms as his hands move up towards your breasts. You stepped closer to him, making it easier for the both of you until he unexpectedly pulled you down onto his lap. “Is this what you wanted?” He whispered, moving in towards your lips. 

“I want more,” you confidently admitted before kissing him. 

“How much more?” He asked after moment, moving your hips to tell you to grind into him. 

“Do I even need to answer that?” You asked, taking his bottom lip between you teeth playfully. 

He groaned into your mouth, and you smiled in response. 

“Fuck, Honey, you don’t even understand how much I’ve thought about this moment,” he revealed, flipping you over and pushing your back into the bed. “Remind me to thank Cherry unnie next time I see her…This thing is not coming off tonight.” His eyes roamed freely around your body now, and you let your arms fall to your side, allowing him to do whatever he wanted for a minutes. 

His fingers lightly traced from your lips down your chest and between your breasts, lips following closely behind. 

“She knows it’s being put to good use already,” you breathed, trying to remain steady as his hot lips started to press kisses on your hips. 

“She knows what’s going on?” He asked, spreading your legs apart and brushing his nose over the lace underwear. 

“Why do you think Jimin and Tae left in a rush?” You struggled to concentrate as he played with you. “I asked them to leave.”

You squirmed, trying to keep focused. In a second, Jungkook stopped all movements and hovered above you. “What exactly did you say to everyone?”

You bit your lip to try to stop yourself from laughing at his confused expression. But now you wanted some power over him. Before you answered, you pulled at the bottom of his hoodie, trying to tug it over his head. You flipped him over, taking the chance to admire him for once. “I told them that I wanted to have sex with you, so they needed to be out of the house,” you shrugged, watching in delight as his skin got goosebumps from your light touches. 

“You’re naughty,” he groaned.

You leaned back down to his face and whispered huskily, “Have you thought about me when you’re all alone before? In the bed? In the shower?”

You heard him visibly swallow.

“Have you thought about me taking you? Or my tongue stroking you?”

He still couldn’t answer when you dipped your hand between your bodies and into his sweatpants. You watched his facial expression in curiosity when you cupped him, simultaneously palming him and rolling your body into his. 

“Answer me, Bun,” you demanded, wrapping your fingers around him harder as leverage. 

“Holy fuck yes, ok, I do,” he managed, and you loosened your grip slightly. 

You kiss his collarbone and neck before putting your lips against his ear, “Are you sure?”

“Yes! And it’s only you every damn time.” His hands were holding your hips to keep any sort of stability. 

“Because I’ve thought about you before,” you continued, starting to pump him. 

“Y-you have?” He was breathy, letting you do whatever you wanted to him. 

“Sometimes when you’re not home, or when you are, I like to imagine it’s you and not my own hand…” Jungkook’s digits slipped into your panties, pushing them aside as he started rubbing you.

Your lips found his again, and he eagerly pushed his tongue against yours. It was a sweet moment, both of you letting the other do what they wanted, but Jungkook pulled back sooner than you’d hoped when you felt him start to buck his hips into your hand. “You have to stop,” he said before throwing his head back and pulling your hand from out of his pants.

When you finally take a look at his face, you see his flushed cheeks and red lips. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“Oh not at all. I just want this to last to the actual sex part,” he admitted, rolling over to find a condom in a drawer near the bed. You were under him, smiling as he seemed frustrated at not finding the box right away. 

At his distracted state, you let your fingers slip into the waistband of his sweats, guiding them down the curve of his bum and hips…and you did let your fingers linger on the hard muscle for a little longer. 

When he finally acquired the little packet, he pushed himself off you to take his sweats all the way off and put on the condom. You watched in fascination as Jungkook’s was illuminated by the last bits of sunlight, pinks and purples from the sunset giving him a beautiful glow on the already gleaming skin. His hands deftly put on the protection, hands not missing a beat as if he’d had a lot of practice. 

When he finished, you let your eyes linger on his stomach. He really was one of God’s favourites. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take this off?” You asked, gesturing to the garment that admittedly didn’t actually cover much. 

“It stays on,” his voice was lower than it had been a minute ago. He’d regained his composure. “But these come off.”

His fingers hooked into the sides of your panties and pulled them down your waist. 

“Listen, Bun, if I forced you into something that you didn’t want…”

“I’m literally already naked and wearing a condom, and you’re going to ask me that…just shut up,” he laughed, positioning himself between your legs. 

You waited, already having a better time with Jungkook than you had with Nic. When his hand  went around your back, you took him in and grabbed his back to hold him close. 

“My seventeen-year-old would not have believed what’s happening right now,” he admitted, looking down at you. 

You couldn’t focus on any of his words again, trying to adjust to him as quickly as possible. You knew he was uncomfortable as you forced him to stay where he was for a moment longer, but as soon as you told him to move, he obeyed. Slowly, he began his thrusts but sped up soon. You didn’t mind, having gotten a lot out of him earlier.

Jungkook’s hands removed yours from his back and he pushed them down beside your head, linking his fingers with yours. His thrusts were successful in winding you up, knowing that neither of you were going to be able to hold out much longer. 

“Honey, I can’t hold it much longer,” he breathed into your shoulder, teeth gently biting the skin. 

You let yourself go as soon as you heard his voice, not able to effectively breathe or answer him. All you were able to do was breathily moan his name. 

“Fuck, it’s over,” he groaned, thrusting into you a few last times, effectively riding out his own orgasm. 

Jungkook’s face during this most vulnerable moment was a blessing to see. You said it once, and you’d say it again, he was one of God’s favourites. There was simply no way that one man could look so deliciously appetizing at every moment. You were exhausted, but if he asked, you’d go right into a second round…you were in no position to deny him. 

But he didn’t. He immediately fell beside you on the bed, catching his breath. 

“Fighting,” you whispered.

“What?” He asked, looking into your eyes. You stared back at him with equal intensity. 

“Doesn’t matter.”

Jungkook grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face to his. His lips found yours, and he smiled. Three long kisses were placed on your mouth before he asked, “Should we order some food?”

• • • • • •

“When was the last time you had sex with Nic?” Jungkook asked out of the blue, playing with your hair. You were laying together on the couch, and you were comfortable positioned half between his legs, half in front of him. There was a movie playing on the tv and the finished takeout on the coffee table, but you were barely paying attention. 

When you hesitated, he clarified, “I mean enjoyable sex.”

“Maybe eight months…it was too long,” you revealed, hiding your face in his sweater, which you’d gladly changed into afterwards. “So I guess a thank you is appropriate.”

You felt his chest move in laughter. “There’s no need to thank me, Honey. It was good for both of us.”

When it was silent for a minute, you shyly asked, “When was the last time you had sex?” Why were you being shy around him all of a sudden? “Be honest with me, Bun. I know you’ve gotten around.”

“I don’t get around that much, but the weekend before you called me was the last time,” he admitted, shifting so the blanket was covering you better. 

“How many people?”

Jungkook breathed through his nose hard before saying, “Why are you asking questions that you won’t like the answer to?”

“I’m just curious,” you answered, playing with his hand that was around your waist. 

“A lot.” He thought he’d get away with that but you were adamant about knowing for some reason. You knew you shouldn’t have been so curious, but you were…

“Bun…”

“I’ve hooked up with a girl every time I’ve gone out, okay. I don’t know how many I’ve had sex. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you mad? Disappointed? Disgusted?” He huffed, seeming frustrated. 

“I’m not any of those things. I was just curious because Cherry and Yoon told me that you’d never been in a serious relationship.”

“They’re right.”

“Why? You obviously have enough people that find you attractive…”

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. There may have been someone in the back of my mind that I couldn’t stop thinking about. She’s kind of a pest and asks too many questions, but she’s cute.” He cuddled closer into you, spooning you. His lips were pressed to the back of your neck and you realized that he was done talking. Actually, in only a few moments, his breaths became deeper. 

He’d fallen asleep. 

Had you been on his mind the whole time? Even after he said those mean things to you? You’d managed to repress your feelings for him while you were with Nic, but now that he was gone and Jungkook was your present, you knew that they were deeper than you’d anticipated. When the heated feelings of tonight wore off, and you two talked about what had happened more seriously, you wondered what he was going to say.

Jungkook was your past. Jungkook is your present. Hopefully, Jungkook would be your future. 

[poptod]

Latibule (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahk’s time at Cambridge.

Notes: Takes place in 1942. Can be read as Male!Reader or F!Reader disguised as a male (40’s wasn’t the best time for female students.) Either way, gender neutral!

Professor Wilkins’ record collection is filled to the brim with classics, you note, filing through them for the perfect music. Rain patters outside, and the dusty library is alight with a nearby fireplace. Two student sit opposite each other, reading their own separate books and sparing glances at each other every now and then, the fire casting dancing shadows along their faces. You, on the other hand, are still looking through Wilkins’ collection, ranging from Beethoven to Glenn Miller and Ella Fitzgerald. The worn corners of the cases are soft against your calloused fingers, and at last you pull a random vinyl out, setting it on the old phonograph you’d been allowed to use for the evening. Copland comes on, an orchestral piece - not one you know, surprisingly. With that the rain outside mutes under the tones of the vinyl and the crackling of the fire, and you set out in search of books covering your study topic.

You’d come to Cambridge for exactly one reason: to study Egyptology. But, with Egyptology comes a massive range of other historical components, including Greece, Rome, and a good amount of the Middle East in general, as well as India and China. They all connect, like an old world trade, and though all that interests you is Egypt, the other subjects are ones you are required to learn. Much like your technique with the records your fingers skim along the binds of the many books, dust falling off them to coat your fingertips a duller shade. From the phonograph a woman begins to sing, and it draws you deeper into your search - through sections D to F, till you reach the author you’re looking for.

It’s a decent sized book, about as thick as your arm, and bigger than your face. This one, however, is recently used, the bindings flimsy and worn but mostly clean. When you open it, the cover slams down on the table with a crack, striking you for a moment as odd before you dig out your own notebook from your leather satchel. Pencil in hand, you take notes as the sun sets invisibly behind the amassing clouds, and the rain grows heavy with thunder striking its’ occasional beat. It isn’t long till you’re flipping the record over, and the students previously reading in front of the fire tap your shoulder, and helpfully inform you that the library is closing soon. Blearily, you nod, half hearing their words - university brings a level of exhaustion unknown to any other student or worker.

Reading over the inventions of Rome and their connection to Egypt, you don’t notice when the fire dies away, and you don’t notice the needle slipping off the record while it still spins. This specific library, in this specific wing of the building, is filled with artifacts from the various cultures you study - perhaps it’s a show of achievement, or a weak attempt to make students feel closer to their classes and studies, but all it does is unsettle you. Unopened mummies stare blankly ahead, golden skin reflecting in the dimming light, jewelry shining and various weapons hanging in their simplistic design.

There was one exhibit, however, that held a very special place in your heart purely because of how much it terrified you. Comparably it’s recently discovered, around five years ago - you can’t remember the exact date, but it’s set in the introductory plate in front if it. Glass protects it from being stolen, and dust gathers on the golden tablet; dubbed the Tablet of Ahkmenrah. Not very much is known about Ahkmenrah, not even his age, nor if Ahkmenrah is his real name, and no one can quite pinpoint the era either. If the name is correct, that places him more around the twelfth dynasty of the Middle Kingdom, but the wrappings and tomb design place him in the era of the Old Kingdom. Names aren’t everything, you know that, and you’re one of the believers that place him in the Old Kingdom, though which dynasty exactly is unknown.

The library closes as evening approaches, but you don’t notice, enraptured in the history of Rome’s invasion of Egypt. A light shines behind you, the only thing to bring you out of your reading. Turning around, you see the tablet glow - you squint your eyes, wondering if you’re hallucinating, or if there’s a play on your eyes, but no. It’s definitely glowing, humming almost, an ethereal tone so unearthly you’d never be able to recall it without hearing it again. In one final burst of light that fills the whole of the small library there’s a sudden breath in the air - fresh, and living, and a deep discomfort settles low in your stomach.

From the corner of the library you hear a moan, sounding pained and confused, which only makes you panic more. On instinct you go to the doors, your heart racing at a dangerously fast pace when you find them locked. The moaning gets louder, accompanied by a dull thudding, and the explorer in you takes hold of your nerves. There’s something there, something undiscovered, you just know it - all you need to do is step forward.

Easier said than done - a fight or flight response has decided to opt out, and what you’re left is a petrified, tense stance, which you’re fully aware is a reaction of prey. Like a deer in headlights. An especially loud thump breaks you out of the trance, which you’re half thankful for, but the noise increases and you’re left with more fear. Your steps are slow, cautious, and unbalanced - all the necessary things for a growing student. You make it to the exhibit without trouble, and somehow unsurprisingly, it’s Ahkmenrah’s casket, locked away in a glass case.

Twice you knock on the glass, gentle, and the rattling of the coffin stops. Then, two knocks, mimicking you. Your breath catches as you realize there’s something in there, some thing alive and well enough to recognize patterns, enough to recognize that you’re there without seeing you.

This is a cruel trick, you think to yourself. You’re not exactly important enough to be bullied at this school, but it’s not too far of a reach to say some math students could pull this off. All of it is too good to be true; a pathway into history, a skeleton come to life. Fumbling to your pockets you search for a paper clip, anything you could open the glass case with, and you come up empty. Once more you knock on the glass, the same pattern, and it is returned. With a calming breath, you go in search of paper clips.

There’s one on your desk, keeping some of your loose paper together, and faster than you can think you whip it off and put old skills to use. The illegality of it all doesn’t hit you, not even as your fingers trace over the gold plated sarcophagus, over the lapis design and black outlining. Twice you knock, and the thing inside responds in kind. One more shaky breath, you fiddle with the different knobs at the side, and with a click it opens.

Slowly, the door opens, and half what you expected and half what you were afraid of comes out - a man covered entirely in centuries old wrappings. His hands, fingers forced together, paw at the back of his head as he attempts to undo the restricting cloth. A million thoughts cross your mind, including that this has to be dangerous, and that he won’t understand you, and that he might kill you if your professor doesn’t.

“Uh…” you try to speak, but he’s still very clearly busy trying to unwrap himself. Hesitantly you move forward, reaching to help him, but he’s finally got it. Like a gift he pulls his mask away from his face, and what you see is nothing within the realm of what you expected.

“Oh my. You look surprisingly normal,” you blurt out, knowing full well he won’t know what you’re saying. He narrows his eyes, confused and more innocent than you expected - this boy can’t be older than 18, which is only a year younger than you. He says something in his own language, a dead one you’ve never heard before.

“Do…” you try to think of a word he knows, something he’ll recognize, when it comes to you - “You’re from Kemet… right?”

To your knowledge and your teachers’ knowledge Kemet is what they call their home, Egypt, and you pray to God he understands you. A spark shines in his eyes as he smiles, pointing at you when you say the word.

“Kemet!” He says in a joyously childish tone, grinning brightly with teeth much cleaner than what you expected. For another moment you stare at each other, him trying to decipher who you are, why you look the way you do, and what clothes you’re wearing, while you try to think of a way to tell him where he is.

“Kemet,” you say, pointing at him, “England,” you say, pointing at yourself.

“Enlan,” he replies, trying to mimic you. Giggling, you shake your head.

“England,” you say again, over pronouncing it. He nods, furrowing his brows in concentration.

“Enngland.”

Enthusiastically you nod, smiling just as bright as he is. Stuttering you take his hand, leading him to one of the cushy chairs in front of the fire place, which is now barely glowing red, the remaining embers buried in ash.

“Ahkmenrah?” You ask, gesturing to him. His mouth opens slightly - he’s confused, but he nods. He says something odd, but it ends in his name, so you assume that historians are correct; his name is Ahkmenrah.

“I,” you point to yourself, “am (Y/N).”

Once again he tries to repeat you, and it sounds like a bastardization of your name, which you quickly correct. Second time around he gets it, and the two of you smile. As he looks around the room, marveling at the number of books and the architecture, you sit staring at him, wondering how it’s possible. The golden tablet catches his eye and he stands, his hand still bandaged drags across your arm as he walks in a trance towards it. You follow close behind, gauging his reaction.

His fingers drag across the glass, leaving no imprint in their wrapped state. Again he says something to you, a breath barely coming out of him as the words are whispered.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” You murmur, glancing at the tablet still half glowing, then back to him.

“Ahasu bey,” he whispers, going over every hieroglyph carved into its surface. It doesn’t sound quite right, but you studied Arabic for a time, which as close to the Egyptian language as it gets - it sounds like an odd version of ‘mine.’ So you repeat the word, in the version of the language that you know.

“Alkhasu bi?”

He turns to you, clearly surprised. For a moment he goes quiet, contemplating his words, a frown apparent on his face. He says something, something even you can’t understand, unlike Arabic or English.

“I can’t understand,” you say, feeling more lost than ever.

He sighs, forlorn as his fingers once more trace over the glass. Throat tight you attempt to swallow, reaching for his hands - someone has to untie them, and the only person is you. At first he jumps, startled by your touch, but he soon realizes what you’re trying to do. Slowly, you unravel the ages old cloth, careful not to tear anything.

The first thing you notice is how soft his hands are, unmarred from the labor his subjects faced. Your own fingers trace along the lines of his palm, reaching the tips of his fingers, holding them and curling them into his palm. You do the same with his other hand, and he pats your hand thankfully. Nervously he looks into your eyes and says something, something you can’t understand, but you take it to be a thank you, and you smile in return.

To pass the time locked away in the library, the both of you barred from leaving (though, he’d be a suspicion, wrapped up in all that cloth), you go over textbooks filled with different items. You point at an image of the night sky, and you say ‘night,’ while he says what you assume is night in his own language. Several things happen that night - you realize a lot of titles of things in Egypt aren’t the actual titles, they’re just the general name for something. The Great Nile is really called the Aur; Nile means river in their language. Even though you know you’d never be able to share the information without being accused of either witchcraft or stupidity, you revel in his guidance, and quietly adore the sound of his voice.

When the first light of dawn strikes a shadow down the book the two of you are examining he inhales sharply, turns without a word, and stands in front of his sarcophagus. Confused you turn to him, watching as he wraps his hands once more.

He says something, something you know is important information, but you still can’t do anything about it. Something relating to night, and life, and as you help him back into his wrappings entirely confused as to why, it hits you. Struggling to put the mask back on you assist, muttering to yourself, “you only live at night, how convenient,” while wondering when anything had been less convenient. You hold his hand as long as you can, till the first rays of sunlight settle into the library, and before you can see his form you close the coffin, seal it shut, and lock him away in the glass case.

Every evening you come back, even though you really can’t afford to spend time talking to him. For the most part he understands, you point at your books and your studies and try to communicate that it’s important. As you stay under the green table lamp, pen in hand and a dozen sheets of questions out in front of you, he sits beside you, and tries to decipher your language. Sometimes he asks questions, and it’s not long at all till he begins to understand basic phrases, items, and gestures. Over Christmas Break, you only have one essay to write (granted, it is supposed to be 4,000 words long), thus allowing for a bit more time to spend with the young King.

“You call Kemet, Egypt?” He asks one day, looking at the map spread out on your unofficial desk. A typewriter sits to the side, half your essay written, lit by the glow of the fire.

“Yes. It’s here,” you say, and as always, you attempt to use simple phrasing, even if he’s learning English at an alarming rate. Pointing at the upper are in which Egypt rests his eyes follow, and he frowns.

“It’s… small,” he murmurs, his own fingers tracing the path of the Nile, barely visible on your map.

“No, not really. The world is big,” you say with a soft giggle, watching him as his eyes dart around the map - there’s more land than he can fathom.

“Lots of world,” he says with a nod, straightening his back from the bent down position. With a smile you nod, and he takes a seat. From the desk beside your own you pull another chair, and sit close to him.

“We are here,” you tell him, pointing to the little island of Great Britain.

“Also small,” he notes with a giggle.

“Yes… but powerful. Like Kemet.”

In understanding he nods, almost enthusiastically; there’s little you know about him statistics wise, such as birthdays or number of wives or children, but you know he’s curious, a fast learner, and almost… excitable. It seems, all around, an odd word to refer to an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh as, but it suits him well - when he learns he smiles a brilliant smile, and his eyes light up, crinkling at the edges in delight. His lips pout in a soft confusion when he’s still learning a topic, and they part just slightly, dimples appearing when he frowns. There’s a lot you know about him - nothing informational, but you know him, and he knows you just as well.

You’re just as joyful as he is when he learns something. The linguistics of a dead language is hard for you to understand, which is fair enough he thinks, but you get it anyway, every now and then. However, you do have an advantage, which is knowing a language similar to his own; he doesn’t have anything like that in his arsenal of learning. Still he manages to bond with you, over the knowledge of the stars, the shared mystery of the universe, and the marvel of life on Earth.

“Do… your work, is it done?” He asks, gesturing to the typewriter in the desk corner. No, it’s not - you’ve got a ways to go.

“Yes,” is what you tell him instead. Time with him is such a precious thing, so precious you’d begun debating on getting a job at Cambridge University once you graduated. At your lie he smiles, soft and barely there, and takes your hand, leading you to the fireplace.

The two red velvet chairs that sit in front of the fire have been getting slowly closer to one another during your visits, to the point where he can now hold your hand, notice each pattern in your fingertips while you both sit in separate seats. He does this exact thing - the fire heats your cheeks as he stares at your knuckles, his thumb brushing over them as he notes the smoothness of your skin. Your heart races painfully when you stare at where your hands meet, so instead you watch his face, and admire the cold glow of his eyes in the firelight.

For a while he continues doing this, examining every bit of your hand, and for some reason you let him. Even if it’s not a newfangled invention that he’s doting over it’s a sign of affection, which is only further proved when he breaks the silence to speak.

“Mrr i Twn,” he says, the words as odd on his tongue as any other - you’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to hearing a language so starkly different from your own. Despite how strange it sounds, you actually know what he’s saying, though by the expression on his face, he doesn’t think you do. Your mouth falls open, your heart thundering in your chest, and a deep need sparks within you to touch him.

“Say that again,” you breathe out, unable to break the eye contact he’s made. Hesitantly he does so, saying the words quieter and faster. Gingerly you trace your fingers across his palm, till they’re wrapped around his wrist - he holds your wrist just as firm and gentle.

“You… know, don’t you,” he mumbles, his face darkening in a strong blush.

“I know,” you say, a smile cracking across your face, warmth fluttering in your chest. “In English it’s ‘I love you.’”

“I lub you,” he tries, and again you correct him, till it comes out clear as day - “I love you.”

He tries to speak, takes a breath to do so, but nothing comes out - he stares at your intertwined hands, the way you stroke over his veins, the love that warms your touch, before looking back up at you - and only then you notice the tears glistening in his eyes. You hold him tighter and lean in.

“Are you alright?”

“I am… bad,” he answers, and it’s clear his limited vocabulary is hindering him from expressing himself. So you lean in closer yet, till your noses nearly touch.

“I adore you,” you say, your tone a melodic dream that closes his eyes in a rapt sigh.

“I don’t know what that means,” he says.

“Sorry. I love you,” you clarified with a smile, one that he copies, leaning into you till your foreheads press together.

When the giggles recede he smiles, spellbound by your closeness as he leans in closer. It only feels natural to follow, revering his love as a deep fondness settles in your stomach, admiring till the last moment comes and your lips meet. You haven’t ever kissed anyone before - which has always been a source of shame for you - and it’s what you expected; a golden glow courses through you, and there’s a strong desire to deepen the kiss. What you don’t expect, and what you could’ve never expected, was how safe it all felt, and the warm comfort that tingles at your fingertips. You move on what feels right, using your free arm to tangle your hand into his hair, tugging gently on it as you press yourself closer to him. With a weak hum he pushes nearer to you, and somehow you end up in his lap.

How, exactly, you got here escapes you for a moment, and the oddity of it all doesn’t ever occur to you, even years later. In truth, the circumstances are very strange - you happened, by chance, to stay too late in a library, then a magic tablet brought a dead Egyptian King to life, and now you’re kissing him with more fervor than you’ve felt for anything or anybody. He goes as far as to slip his hands underneath your coat, shirking it off your back and pulling at your suspenders till they fall off your shoulders. Every stroke he makes on you, skin or cloth, electrifies you and you half expect him to be leaving a glowing path where his touch strays.

While he drags his hands anywhere you’ll let him touch, over your shoulders, down your chest to settle on your hips, you keep yours in place - one on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. Desperately he searches for your touch, longs for you to make a move but your techniques of love and worship are far different. He moves consistently, constantly, moving deeper into your kiss, tugging at your hair and pulling at the buttons at your shirt - you stay in place, too enraptured in each and every touch that his method nearly sends you into overload. Yet, even as your shirt is thrown to the ground, you can’t find yourself able to part from him. Sensory overload or no, there’s nothing more heavenly than his touch, and there’s no greater show of reverence and exaltation in any life, in any time than there is that night.

You stay with him as long as you can, as long as you dare. Love is a newfangled wonder, not one you easily let go of, and you thank God and His angels that Ahkmenrah loves you dearer than anything - just as you love him.

[pbandjesse]

Day number 3 at this new job. Again I have mixed feelings!! It wasnt bad but I was pretty uncomfortable and that made it harder. But it wasnt a bad day overall. 

I didnt sleep as well last night. Waking up was a lot harder. I did wake up at 8 like I wanted but I didnt get out of bed until almost 9. And really I only got up because James made crepes and I was excited about that. 

I got dressed, but just in leggings and a sweater. I would change into my overall dress later. I had my crepes and felt pretty good. I worked on some drawing. I chilled. I wandered around the apartment. I had lunch. It was a nice morning. James went for a bike ride so I was alone for a while. Did some cleaning. Need to do more. But It was a nice morning. I felt productive. I also just skated around the living room for a few minutes. But not very long. Im trying to skate at least a few minutes every day. Im getting more and more comfortable. I hope to go outside in them this weekend. Well see how the weather is. 

I left for work a little after James got back. I got changed into my work shirt, that I hate, and my skirtoveralls. Felt cute. 

But apparently not everyone thought so. Because when I got to work the supervisor made a comment asking if I had something I could change into. Because she felt like my dress was to short. I was really surprised. Like I have worn this to work for a long time. Never had a problem before. And I said as much. But I was embarrassed. Everyone else in the room said I was fine because I had leggings on. But I was super uncomfortable for the rest of the day. Like I felt like a spot light was on me. And even though that probably wasnt true, I just felt really bad. I honestly think that its because Im chubby. That it just looked like I had my thighs out? I dont know. The dress was only slightly shorter than my fingertips.  When I got home James said he didnt think it was to short and that I was alright. But it wasnt fun feelings so self conscious all day. 

But being with the actual kids was great. I was with 2nd graders today and that class was bigger with 8 kids. But they were sweet. I sat at a desk and watched them. Had to keep reminding them about focusing on class and not on me. I know I'm fascinating but you got class. Its funny though because this class understood who I was the least. It was all good. 

I spent a lot of their class time drawing. I did help them with some work but mostly I just drew. I am really excited about how my drawing came out today. I figured out I can zoom in when I draw! A game changer. And Im getting better with coloring in so its not so flat! Im really excited with how it came out but now I feel like I have to go back over the other drawings. But I think thats just how its going to go. Working on those drawing muscles that I dont use all that much. 

Around 3 we all went out to the lunch area to hang out. Its a weird system to me but its alright. I set up a table for drawing and for painting and the kids were so pumped!!! That was nice to see. I was very popular. And it was a lot of fun seeing what they drew. A lot for Valentines day, because they are having a door decoration contest. 3rd grade really wants me to be in their class tomorrow to help with that so Im going to see what supplies I could bring to help make stuff for that. Im thinking my poster board markers? Well see. 

I was there until 545 again. Letting kids draw on my tablet. Its fun to show them how to draw digitally. It reminds me of me playing with MS paint back in the day. Its a lot of fun. 

I was happy to go home though. I left there and was happy to see my James when I got here. He was making us falafel. I was bummed because he had wheat pita but then he had regular ones and I was super happy. 

It was a good dinner. And then I spent the next hour retooling my drawings from yesterday. Im excited to see how this drawing comes out. I hope to have more ideas for drawings. Because I want to get better at this and it feels good to learn a new thing. 

I had breadpudding and then James made us cookies. I had one, saved the rest for tomorrow. And then I took an excellent bath. 

Now I am in bed. Hanging out. Waiting for my hair to dry. And soon I will sleep. 

I hope tomorrow is good. Its the kids half day and Im not sure what the rest of their day looks like. So wish me luck. I dont know anything about the day! But I just gotta hope that its just a good time. Goodnight everyone. Sleep good! Be happy!

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

Overrated Love Stories

Summary:  Joe knew very well that Jay didn't like cliches. He didn't give flowers, he didn't think long walks on the beach were romantic, but that was nothing. That didn't mean he didn't love Joe any less. And Jow knew that. But it didn't mean he didn't want something every once and a while.

Read on Ao3

Jay had never been one for romantic gestures, be it towards him or doing it for his partner. He preferred to just tell him that he loved him, or slyly flirt with him rather than doing something big and romantic. Joe understood that. He was sometimes the same way, not wanting to have someone skywrite something for him or anything like that. But there were times where he wanted to have that feeling, the fuzzy warmth, and embarrassment of course, at knowing that the person whom he loved was thinking about him. He always made sure to let Jay know that he was thinking about him, sometimes with a little doodle or by making him food before he left for work or class.

He was lucky, he got to work from home, and all his classes were online. He could spend all day if he wanted on planning something romantic for Jay. Though, of course, there were days where he wanted to be told he was cute, or to be given flowers, or even just a note saying that Jay was thinking about him. But that wasn't how their relationship worked most days.

Jay came home to find Joe curled up on their couch, his laptop on his lap and drawing tablet pen barely being held in his hand. Soft snores came from his lover, his glasses askew. The blonde sighed, walking over to him as gently as he could. He saw a little doodle on the screen, his avatar giving flowers to Joe's, and he paused for a moment. Did Joe want him to get flowers? He'd never been one for such a thing.

He sighed, taking the pen from his partner's hand, saving the picture, and closing the laptop. Joe had a very bad habit of falling asleep on the couch where he often drew, or at his desk. Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, he picked him up carefully. It wasn't too much of a burden, Joe wasn't particularly heavy, and Jay had brought him back to bed on many occasions. Once he was set on the mattress and glasses removed, Jay pulled the covers over him. Now, he would go to bed with him under normal circumstances, but he was curious about what he'd seen on the computer screen.

Did Joe want to be romanced? Did he want flirting and flowers and all that junk? They'd been together for almost two years and yet not once had this come up before in their relationship. Usually, they communicated all their wants and desires as soon as it happened, so they could make sure to keep one another happy and be sure they were taking care of each other. Why was this different?

Jay knew why this was different. It was because he had always found such things irrelevant, they were a waste. He liked to live in reality, where violets were purple, people died when their hearts skipped, stars only existed in the sky and in drawings, flowers weren't a good symbol of love because they just died in a week or less, and there was no way in hell one should eat breakfast in bed as it would just get crumbs all over the bedding.

It was so stupid. He'd always thought so, and Joe liked to laugh with him at some of the sentiments. It was fine with him. And as much as he hated the thought of it, Joe was more important to Jay than whatever prejudice he may have against romance, so before he could go to sleep, he got to work.

When Joe woke up in the morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was still dressed in the same clothes he'd worn the day before. Great. That meant he fell asleep on the couch again, and Jay had to carry him back to bed. It was a habit that Joe was ashamed to say that he was all too deep in, with most nights of his week ending on the couch and mornings still starting in bed.

He really loved his partner, and always made sure to thank him whenever he could. Speaking of, where was Jay? He sat up and blearily glanced around, reaching out for his glasses case on the bedside table, only to come into contact with a piece of paper that had definitely not been there before. When he pulled it closer so he could see it, he was slightly shocked to see what it really was. A note, from Jay. With a heart. A simple good morning message, but it was enough to send his heart all aflutter.

Something smelled amazing, he realized as he put his glasses on. Was Jay cooking? He never made breakfast. Lunch and dinner, sure. But not breakfast. What was going on?

"Jay?" He called out as he exited their room, heading down the hall towards the kitchen, "Jay, you there?"

"In here!"

Joe looked into the kitchen and his jaw nearly dropped. Jay was cooking pancakes, chocolate chip pancakes by the smell of things, and had already poured out a glass of chocolate milk for him. They almost never had pancakes. Always eggs or oatmeal, or some other thing which was healthy and supposed to give them energy. But something just decadent, like pancakes? No way, that wasn't how they normally operated, even if it was Joe's favorite breakfast food.

"Okay, what gives? You never cook breakfast."

"Nothing, really, I just wanted to cook for my boyfriend before I headed out to class today." He shrugged, handing him his plate with a kiss when he came over. "Because I love you."

"What the heck? Did I forget some holiday? Is it our anniversary?" Joe whispered to himself, glancing at the calendar, and realized that their anniversary wasn't for another two months. It wasn't February, so not Valentines, and it wasn't either of their birthdays. So what was going on?

Jay's expression was unreadable, as usual. Either angry, neutral, or happy. Nothing new there.

"Do you really think that it only takes some holiday or special day to be shown you're loved?" Jay asked, his tone expressionless as he flipped the pancakes. "Is that really what you think?"

Joe sighed, setting his plate down on the table next to the glass of chocolate milk which had been set out for him. Jay was not a chocolate type of person, preferring orange juice with his breakfast in the morning. All the little things which made him, well, him. Those were what Joe loved the most. And he knew that Jay hated cliche romance, he hated it with a fervent passion. That was fine, Joe knew that, but he was also weak for those same cliches which his boyfriend detested.

"I just know you don't like this sort of thing, and the note was nice, but it doesn't seem like you. And knowing you, it doesn't feel like you want to really do this unless it was for my sake."

"You're right, I don't like doing this. But I love you more than I despise these stupid, overdone cliches, so it's whatever."

Joe wrapped his arms around Jay's waist, resting his head on his partner's shoulder after giving his cheek a soft kiss.

"I know you love me. You don't need to do anything big to prove it, you do that just by spending time with me."

He felt Jay sigh more than heard it, and the way he leaned into the hug only served to prove his point. Oh, he was sure that he'd find plenty of little notes telling him how much he loved him, or how cute he looked, or just of encouragement, and those were fine. He loved those kinds of notes, Jay would sometimes write them for him whenever he saw him having a hard time and didn't want people around. Jay wasn't a people person, but there was one person he loved more than his own biases, and that person had him in his arms then.

"C'mon, let's get some breakfast, you did put all this effort into making it after all."

"Eh, it's mostly from a box. I'm calling in sick from class today, I'd rather spend it with you."

"Well thank you very much," Joe laughed, "I'm honored."

"You sure you don't mind not having all the big romantic gestures?" Jay asked as he set the final pancake onto a plate, grabbing the butter and syrup to go with it as Joe released him so they could go sit at the table.

"Mhm, I don't mind. I've got you, and that's what matters to me. Sure, sometimes I'm bit by the romance bug, but that's the same as getting a craving for chocolate or whatever."

Jay couldn't help but laugh. This domestic romance, without the big gestures and cliches, as just the two of them together, that was all they really wanted. Because dear god, as much as they disliked cliche romances, they loved one another twice as much.

[killervibe]

Hate to See Your Heart Break

Summary: Barry notices Caitlin's quiet suffering. He's been there before.

Note: The title and lyrics come from this song !! Strongly suggest taking a listen! Also, minor spoiler for Love Is Blind. 

For: @manjehaal

Tag: @staroflightning

~.~ 

Love, happens all the time,

to people who aren't kind

And heroes who are blind

~.~

“Hey Caitlin.” Barry sped into the Med Bay with the evidence he snatched from CCPD not even six seconds ago. “I need you to run tests on these before officer Voogavitch notices I stole them off his desk.” He slapped the hat left from the crime scene in the plastic bag on her table and frowned at her hiss.

Caitlin’s chair swivelled so slowly, Barry had to double check he wasn’t in flash time. “Uh,” he said when he got a proper look at her face. “You’re wearing your hungover sunglasses.”

“I don’t have...hungover sunglasses.”

Barry stared at her. The acetaminophen tablet bottle was right next to her elbow.

“Fine,” she grumbled. Barry backtracked to the light switches and turned them all off. Caitlin let out a little sigh of relief and removed the accessory. “I’m a little...hungover.”

Barry grabbed one of her stools to sit. “Why?”

Caitlin shrugged as she took the forensic sample he had left her and slowly put on her gloves to start the analysis in the dark. “I guess I was a little too indulgent at my pity party.”

“Pity party?” He frowned as he watched her boot up one of her machines. “Why would…” He trailed off at her glare. It wasn’t that it was cold but...weary. He remembered that look. He’d worn it often and would notice as he passed by the mirror at the precinct back when Iris was dating Eddie.

...Oh.

“Caitlin,” he said empathetically. “They broke up.”

“I know,” she snapped. Caitlin folded her arms as she sniffed back her tears. “I know they broke up. I knew they weren’t working. I knew he kept coming to me to talk. And I let him.” Her processor pinged. Caitlin took it out and walked over to her monitor to read the results. “We talked so much. All night, sometimes. Just me and him over the phone. When he was away—After he came back. I just stupidly let myself think that…”

“He’d come back to you,” Barry filled in when she went silent again. “You thought he loved you, didn’t you?”

Caitlin bristled. “Well he doesn’t. Your meta has abnormalities that suggest a similar polymer composition to Ralph’s.”

She turned curtly and returned the evidence. “You need to bring this back before officer Voogavitch notices.”

“Caitlin.”

“Voogavitch. He’s old and grumpy and already hates you.”

“Caitlin.”

“I’ll be fine.”

And Caitlin never says she’ll be fine. Usually she won’t say anything at all. Usually Barry would get the cliff notes version from Cisco when she was finally ready to open up about what was bothering her because as close Barry and Caitlin were, they could never in a million years resemble the delicate intimacy that rested in the quiet conversations those two could have with their eyes. “Caitlin,” Barry said again, touching her arm. “He does. He does love you.”

“Yeah,” she responded faintly, sliding the sunglasses back on over her eyes. “And so do you, right?” She collected her purse and wobbled a bit in her heels. “If he asks, I went to visit my mother. He knows not to bother me for a full day then.”

“What are you going to do?”

Caitlin pushed past him lightly. “ What I was doing before you interrupted me. Sleep.”

~.~

Barry’s conversation with Caitlin left him rattled for the rest of the day. At dinner, he picked at his third plate, which made Iris raise an eyebrow.

“Did you eat those calorie granola bars Cisco made for you after work? You’ve hardly touched your food.” She sipped her drink. “I didn’t make it you know,” she teased.

Barry let his fork scrape against the rice and peas listlessly. “I know you told me not to stick my nose in others relationships again—” “Uh oh—”

“—But don’t you think we should try to fix the rift between Cisco and Caitlin?” “What rift?” Iris picked up her plate to put in their dishwasher, kissing his cheek as she passed him by. “They’re the same as always.”

“I know!” he complained. “That’s what’s so weird!”

“You’ve lost me, Barry.”

He sighed and picked up his own plate, wrapping it in a container to store in their fridge. “Caitlin is in love with Cisco, she has been since like, I don’t know, Iris...Since before we were engaged.”

“Wasn’t she with Julian then?” Barry rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. Julian was her distraction from Killer Frost and Cisco.”

Iris put a hand on her hip. “Barry. Are you sure this is all factual or just how you’ve been seeing it the last couple of years?”

He scoffed as he closed the fridge door, leaning against the tacked up drawings Jenna had made for them that they had put up with magnets. “Caitlin is in love with Cisco. Cisco has been half in love with Caitlin since day one, too. They just sucked at timing and now that Kamilla is no longer around...I think they just need a push.” “We don’t push our best friends into romances they don’t want, Barry!”

“Oh my god, but they do want it, though!” He ran his hand through his hair with a stressed out laugh. “Both of them!”  

Iris took his hands in hers, dragging him to their couch. She folded herself against the cushions, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles. “I get that these are your two best friends and you really want to see them be happy, but Barry—for the love of god. Let them work it out on their own. Please.”

He pouted a little, falling backwards onto the sofa and covered his eyes with a groan. Iris laughed.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whined through the muffling of his sleeve. She snuggled up against him until Barry couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her waist. She queued up Netflix. “How about getting you hooked onto the latest season of Love Is Blind?”  

Barry perked up immediately. “Do you think there’ll be another Messica?”

“There’s always another Messica.”

~.~

Barry watched Cisco and Caitlin be themselves for a whole other week with little to no development. He still stole her fries when she wasn’t looking and she nagged at him when he’d do something stupid only to get a fond eye roll and an arm slung over her shoulder. She’d tease his meta name of the week and for that, would earn a new nickname rolling off his tongue of her own. She’d let him hug her and she wouldn’t say anything different. And if her eyes darted over to Barry every once in a while after he’d be obliviously, painfully affectionate, well Barry seemed the only one to notice.

My friend, Cisco would always say when talking about her. My friend. My friend.

It made Barry cringe.

Another week turned into a month and then it was Spring. Iris began inviting Caitlin over to go shopping as a distraction. Cisco would turn down Ralph’s offers to hit the town.

Halfway into April, Barry got too distracted to keep score of Cisco and Caitlin’s stalling by a new crop of moderately dangerous alien attacks targeted around Central City. After a call and elaborate takedown with the help of Superman, they managed to put an end to it, content to send some alien children back to their homes.

Team Flash watched the news segment that relayed on Central City News Network in the Cortex as they fixed up the last of the technical difficulties in corresponding with the DEO to send the last aircrafts out to the alien planets, all wiped out and exhausted.

The news reel caught a quiet moment between Clark and Lois in the aftermath, Superman nowhere near in sight. The news headline captioned the footage of them grabbing onto each other in relief as 

“Couple Reunited After Alien Scare—Saved by Superman & Team Flash!”  

“Damn,” said Cisco around a Twizzler. “I want something like that.”

Caitlin clenched her clipboard tighter and forced a smile. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Duuuude!” blurted out Barry, slapping his hand against the whiteboard he’d been cleaning off from their language decodes and translations. Cisco might as well have been the one from another planet.  “Dude! Come on!”

Cisco startled in his seat at Barry’s volume. “What?”

“Stop it with the utter bullshit! You do have that! You’ve always had that!” He gestured wildly at their best friend. “Hello!?”

“Barry,” Caitlin warned.

Maybe it wasn’t his place. Iris had told Barry not to pry, but this was pushing all of them too far. He couldn’t stand to see the look on Caitlin’s face. It’s been weeks. Hell, it’s been months. This had to end.

It was too late to salvage what he’d done, anyway. Cisco turned to look at her. “What is he talking about?”

Caitlin’s cheeks flared up as she muttered something incomprehensible, setting the clipboard down.

Ralph took a long sip of coffee, watching the scene above the rim of his mug.

“It’s just a crush,” she said at last, as if she were commenting on the weather. “A silly little crush, Cisco. It’ll pass.” She ignored Barry as she briskly walked across the room, her eyes flickering for a moment as her hands shook.

“Stop,” she said to nobody in the room, in a hushed, direct tone. It must’ve been for Frost. “Stop it. I’m fine on my own.”

They all watched as she left.

“Okaaaay,” said Cisco. “I’m very confused. What the hell just happened?”

Barry kept his mouth shut already knowing Iris would kill him.

Cisco sat up on the monitor desk and dropped his candy. “Barry, I mean no offence, but how is it that—again, no offence—”

“—Little taken.”

“ How the hell does Caitlin have feelings for someone suddenly and she decided that you’re the first to know?”

“Does that bother you?” Barry countered.

“That she told you first!? I just said that!”

“No, it bothers you that she likes someone.”

That took Cisco by surprise. “What—No?”

“You hesitated.”

“No.”

Barry shared a glance with Ralph, who merely rolled his eyes. “Yes, you did.”

“So what does it bother me?” he lamented. “Why wouldn’t it? I don’t even know who this person is!?” Cisco frowned deeply, brushing a hand over his hair. “Do we know him? When did this happen?”

“Buddy,” said Ralph with feeling as he stretched his limbs, deciding to follow Caitlin in case Frost turned up after all. “Listen to yourself.”  

“I’m listening to myself just fine!”

“Uh.” Barry squinted at him. “Are you, really?”

Fine!” Cisco yelled, jumping down. Barry blinked. That was easy. “Maybe I’m concerned that Caitlin is falling in love again!”

“Why would that be a problem? You love Caitlin and want her to be happy.”

“I know!” Cisco shouted. “I love her and I want her to be happy but god for once, why can’t she just be happy with me?”

His words roared in Barry’s ears. Cisco himself blinked at his own outburst, shocked.

Finally. Finally!!!!!!

A ridiculous grin threatened to split Barry’s face, tremendously relieved that he didn’t have to suffer through this anymore. He reached for his pocket to text Iris about this new development with about a thousand exclamation points and a fireworks screen for emphasis.

“Cisco.”

The men turned on their heels, horrified to find Caitlin back in the entryway of the Cortex.

Cisco’s face went ashy. Barry nearly dropped his phone.

“Caitlin—“

She shook her head, cutting Cisco off, a dangerous look in her eye. “Do you know how selfish you sound? You don’t want me with other people but you don’t want me either!?!”

“What!?”

“How many times have I heard you talk about wanting someone normal? How many times did I have to spell it out for you? How much you mean to me—How many more ways am I supposed to!?”

“The clearest way, Caitlin,” Barry cut in quietly. “It’s not that he’s not interested. He doesn’t know.”

Cisco was now in front of her, imploring. “I don’t know what?”

Caitlin swallowed, tearing her eyes from Barry back to Cisco. “I want to be with you,” she confessed. “It’s not just a crush. It’s not going to pass. I’m so in love with you I'm sick with it.”

It seemed as though Cisco’s mind churned and churned until any coherence jumbled into alphabet soup. “You—? Me?”

Barry smiled.

Caitlin nodded and tugged on Cisco’s shirt hem as he stumbled closer. Barry remembered the weary look in Caitlin’s eyes when he’d caught her hungover weeks ago. It was making its reappearance.

“I’m not normal—“

“—Caitlin.” That was all it took to  snap Cisco’s brain cells back into formation.

“—I’m not wife material anymore, I get that.”

“Caitlin!”

“—But I’m happy with you. I’m so happy with you, Cisco—We don’t need anything else. We don’t have to change or be any different—You’re enough for me and that’s all I’ve ever really cared for—

“Caitlin.”

“—And I understand that you see me like a sister and how this is a total shock but I really thought—You were calling me Cait and sometimes you’d look at me and I’d let myself think—“

“Caitlin!” Cisco held her face in his hands to get her to stop talking. She seized, her words stolen away at their proximity, at his touch on her skin. Her eyes caught in his gaze.

“Cait,” he said much more softly, reverenced. He thumbed her cheek and leaned forward until their  foreheads were pressed together. Caitlin closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping as he slid his hands down her face, her neck, the curve of her shoulders. Arms wrapped around her entirely as they stilled in the hallway.

Barry couldn’t dare move if he tried. He was mistaken, what he thought he saw before. The lines of pain etched into her face, the guarded stiffness in her posture when she finally told him what she wanted. There was something different in the way she held herself and looked at Cisco now. It was not weary and miserable, but yearning and delicate. A heartsickness that despite all the fatigue he’d seen it carry over Caitlin now rested in the same place that signalled newfound strength.

“I don’t expect you to suddenly develop feelings for me overnight—“ she whispered.

“Well that’s impossible,” Cisco murmured into her hair. She stiffened in his arms but he simply held her tighter, continuing. “I already love you more than anything in my life.”

Caitlin startled backwards, covering her mouth with her hand. She made a noise like a yelp. “I thought I was imagining it. I felt like I was going crazy!”

Barry sighed, folding his arms across his chest as he took a seat by the monitors. “I told you!”

They both turned to glare at him, but only for a second. Cisco was immediately drawn back to Caitlin, walking backwards to lead her into the Cortex from their spot in the hallway. “No. No, no, no.” He promised. ”This is my fault, I’m sorry. Every time I was hurt or worried or upset when I was with Kamilla—I just wanted to speak to you. And when I finally admitted to myself it wasn’t working...I was too scared to admit to myself I just wanted to run directly to you, then too.”

Her breath hitched.

“But I didn’t know,” he said. “That it was the same way for you. You told me in Antarctica that you didn’t want to get in the way of me starting a family—I assumed…” Cisco paused abruptly. “You were in the way,” he realized breathlessly. “You were always in the way—Mmph!”

Barry’s heart flipped for the both of them, a dumb smile lighting up his face when Caitlin kissed the hell out of Cisco.

The meta alert dinged on Barry’s phone. He slammed down on the space bar to silence the building alarms before they could jolt them apart. He leaned his chin against his palms as his elbows relaxed against the keyboard with a happy sigh.

Lois and Clark were in town. Superman could get this one.

~.~

For all the air that's in your lungs

For all the joy that is to come

For all the things that you're alive to feel

Just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

[antigenius]

Hello! I hope you’re having a good day during this time of shut-in! Is it alright if I ask for a BNHA matchup? I’m a 5’5 artist and animator that stays up through the late, late hours of 6 in the morning to get drawings done but doesn’t raise a finger at schoolwork because my mind is too creative for y=mx+b. Long dark brown hair with probably a gigantic hoodie because hecc shirts. I am a Leo who honestly just wants to be cradled as I draw or have a funny or lovely conversation. Have a good day!

Alright, again, two people came to mind. I think this time, I’ll write two scenarios, just shorter. I hope you don’t mind! (Also, I’m doing great, thank you for asking! I hope you yourself are doing well in these times.)

I think you’re best suited for…

Hatume Mei or Mashirao Ojiro!

Now hear me out, yes, they’re like opposites, but I HAVE GOOD REASONS I SWEAR-

Hatsume Mei!

I think Mei compliments your work ethic perfectly. You’re both hard working and love working on your passions endlessly. I think she’d also enjoy watching you work, it’d make her really happy.

Mei is really energetic and bouncy?? That’s how I describe her anyway. She’s someone who’d probably bounce off the walls in pure hyperactivity as she works, and I think you’d suit her well since you come off as someone who can put her in her place.

I do wish you had put more about your personality rather than just tell me your sign, BUT I think Mei WOULD be compatible with your sign. She’s an aries, headstrong and determined. You already compliment each other already in that section too, so it’s a win-win!

A date with Mei

It was late, about three in the morning specifically, but you were still hunched over your desk, scribbling on your drawing tablet with creativity flowing through you. A knock comes rapping on your door. You freeze mid-sketch. Either someone was here to kill you, or you were too loud (maybe you knocked something over?) or your humming was louder than you thought it was? Either way, you unlock your door.

“I knew you were still awake (Y/n)! Your light was on really bright, I could see it from the cracks in your door!”

A blush scratches its way onto your cheeks at the mention of your nightly presence being so noticeable.

“A-ah, was it too bright or something? I can turn off my room light-“

“I wanted to show you my newest baby!”

From behind her back came a small box. It was wrapped in old newspaper that crinkled in her hands. She gave you a wide grin.

“Go on then! Open it!”

Curious and confused, you rip the newspaper off the box. The box itself was a sleek black colour, smooth to the touch. You open it, only for your mouth to hang open in shock.

It was your first drawing stylus that had broken due to tear and wear. The tip of the stylus had been completely worn by your never-ending excitement of drawing, you were quite sad when it broke.

Unlike most of Mei’s inventions or moderations, this one wasn’t over the top or really out there. It was simple, a cap had been placed on the tip of the stylus as well as a pretty light on the end.

“With that cap, it should last… Almost forever!” Mei chuckled. “I also put that light so that if it’s ever lost, you can just say ‘Baby!’ and it’ll light up as well as make a small noise.”

You glazed your eyes over it, not saying one word. Mei noticed your silence, blinking and looking at you.

“(Y/n)…?”

“Thank you.”

You tackle her into your arms and hide your face in her shoulder. She stumbles back at your sudden affection, falling onto your bed, causing the both of you to yelp and laugh.

You were so lucky to have her.

(And now… the other person I thought you’d be suited for!)

Mashirao Ojiro!

I thought Ojiro would make sense for you since Ojiro’s just… a big softie.

Ojiro is a really affectionate guy who would love to just let you sit in his lap and cuddle you as you work. He’s just a big babie like-

He’d also be able to nudge you to do actually work and tell you to go sleep. He’s so caring it hurts like imagine this man as a dad-

He’s also an Aries!! (I never even knew both of these characters were Aries, ig I’m just talented-) So your compatibility horoscope-wise is pretty high!

A date with Ojiro

Bags sat beneath your eyes as your gaze trails towards your clock. 10pm.

You had to hand in this project at ten ‘o’clock, and you hadn’t even started.

“Let’s do this.”

With countless papers thrown in the bin, a grotesque amount of coffee in your system and lofi music in your headphones, you get to work. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you scribble intently on your tablet.

A soft knock comes through your room. You blink, you weren’t expecting anyone, were you?

“It’s me, (Y/n).”

Ah, Ojiro; you always had your nightly conversations at about this time. You bite your lip. You felt bad that today you couldn’t talk to him properly with you trying to do your assignment. Nonetheless, you open the door, ready to tell him that you weren’t able to talk tonight.

He ruffles your head. “Still working huh?”

You blink rapidly in confusion and shock before realising your room was probably in such a mess that his conclusion was drawn simply from your messy desk. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“I don’t think we can talk today.”

He waves it off. “That’s fine. Can I just sit here?”

“Of course!”

You let him into your natural disaster of a room, stepping over the overturned trashcan. He decides to sit in your seat, tail thumping gently against the floor. You huff at him.

“How can I get my work done if you’re sitting there??”

He laughs. “Just sit on my lap.”

He said it so casually that you were almost a little embarrassed, but you did it either way. You curl onto his lap and he hugs you close to him, almost acting like a seatbelt. You continue your work in that position, finally finishing at about two in the morning. You glance over to him.

“(Y/n)…?”

“Thanks for staying here.”

He nuzzles your cheek sleepily. “No problem.”

[hypnosthemindmaster]

Weekend Away

Alan and Elizabeth sat talking as they had a drink on their balcony, taking in the surprisingly cool summer evening.

"Alan, it's been so long since we've gotten away for a few days. With the long holiday weekend coming up, what do you think about driving in to the city for the weekend?"

"That'll be to expensive for us Elizabeth. Especially trying to find a room this late, its already Thursday."

"Actually I was using this new app a friend mine told me about," Elizabeth replied as she reached for her tablet. "The app has ads, I usually just ignore them but one caught my eye," she continued as she unlocked the tablet. "Check this out," she said as she handed the tablet to him.

Allan reluctantly took the tablet and looked at the screen. The website was one of those bargain hotel sites with an ad for a new resort about 4 hours west of where they lived. They were offering a multi-room suite for only $75 a night. "You know this is a scam right? They can't afford to rent that room for that price."

"Actually it's totally legit. I called the hotel directly and talked to the manager. They're new and trying to get the word out with how competitive the market is it has been hard to draw from other places. So they're putting this rate out there on the discount sites to put them ahead of the competition and get extra attention."

"You're serious?"

"I already booked the room, checkin is noon. We leave first thing in the morning."

"You're serious aren't you?"

"My bags are already packed, I started a bag for you of the basics necessities. All you have to do is pick out a couple shirts and a couple pairs of pants. I've already got swimwear for both of us in my bag."

Alan couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he knew her well enough to know she wasn't bluffing. "Then I better for finish my bag I guess," he replied before finishing his drink and heading inside.

As the balcony door closed behind him, Elizabeth opened the new app on her tablet, clicked a few keystrokes and closed the app. Then she got up and headed inside to help her husband pack.

With the long drive in the morning, the couple went to bed early. Alan curled up around his wife and whispered, "How did I get so lucky?" before closing his eyes and they drifted off to sleep.

In the morning he awoke to find Elizabeth already dressed and doing her makeup. "You get dressed and take the bags down to the car. I'll make us a quick breakfast before we head out," she said as she closed the last of her makeup containers and got up from the tablet.

Alan took a quick shower and dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, he had just returned from the garage when Elizabeth announced that breakfast was ready. He walked in to the kitchen to find a plate sat out for him of eggs, toast and bacon along with a mug of coffee sitting at his place on the breakfast bar in their kitchen. They sat and discussed things they could do while they were away for the weekend as they ate. They made a small list of things to try to so but decided it would be more fun to try to let the weekend happen rather than over schedule it and get frustrated if problems arose.

The drive to the resort was pretty uneventful, Elizabeth had connected her tablet to the car hotspot and was looking up shows in the area. "There's a couple of shows at the resort that look interesting, one is a magician and another is a ventriloquist. They don't do advanced tickets though so we will have to take our chances."

"Are they expensive? "

"$40 a seat for general admission, it goes up if we want reserved seating."

"We'll see what the lines are like."

"Sounds good Honey."

They grabbed a quick lunch when they hit town and headed to the resort to check in.

The desk clerk gave them a full schedule of the amenities and events. When the clerk saw that their room had been booked through the app ad she also gave them a card for a discount to attend the shows and restaurants. She handed them their key cards and said, "Enjoy your stay in the Castle Suite, its #69 on the top floor. If your phones have NFC chips in them, there is a reader in the living room by the tv. Make sure your NFC chip is on and set your phone on the reader and it will setup the locks to be opened with your phones as well as the card keys."

"Castle Suite?"

"One of the things about the deal was we didn't get to pick our room theme, they just assigned us one that was available," Elizabeth explained as they made their way to the elevators. "I would have had one of the others but this should still be fun," she added as they got on the elevator.

They discussed ideas as they rode the elevator. They decided to change into their swimsuits and check out the pools for a couple hours, then explore the hotel. Elizabeth went to the bedroom area to change while Alan went and changed in the bathroom. Elizabeth came back out of the bedroom wrapped in a wet look black one piece swimsuit as Alan emerged from the bathroom in his loose knee length trunks and a t-shirt.

"Maybe we should skip the pool," Alan said as he walked over and started rubbing his hands on the smooth fabric.

"As good as that feels, we'll have time for that later Honey," Elizabeth said as she slipped out of his grip and pulled a white t-shirt on over her suit. "I want to go enjoy the pool."

"Fine," Alan said as they each grabbed a key card for the room and headed for the pool.

As Alan closed the room door Elizabeth reached into the neck of her t-shirt and tucked her key card into the cleavage of her swimsuit. "If you're good, I'll let you retrieve my key when we get back to the room," Elizabeth said as they approached the elevators. "With one condition of course," she added as the elevator doors opened.

"What condition?" Alan asked as they got on the elevator.

"No using your hands of course," Elizabeth pretended to whisper in his ear but made sure she was still loud enough to be heard by the rest of the people in the elevator. She failed to stifle a giggle as she saw his face turning bright red.

About that time the elevator stopped and some more people got on the elevator so Elizabeth behaved herself for the rest of the ride down to the pool area.

Alan was sore from the car ride so he headed to the hot tub to relax, Elizabeth went to try out a few of the water slides. As he soaked and watched Elizabeth he noticed that the slides were causing her suit to ride up, allowing the folds of her womanhood to be seen through the thin fabric. A couple of guys on the ladder to the top of the next slide seemed to be enjoying the view as they followed her at a distance up the ladder. As they reached the top of the stairs the two men grabbed Elizabeth and pulled her to the floor of the platform. Alan was shocked to see the lifeguard doing nothing about this as Elizabeth called for help. He tried to move but his body was frozen. It wasn't long before he saw her suit, which looked like it had been ripped in several places was thrown from the top of the platform. Why wasn't anyone doing anything to stop this he was thinking as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Honey, are you alright?"

He turned to see Elizabeth with her hand on his shoulder and still wearing her swimsuit kneeling beside him with a worried expression on her face. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said as he couldn't believe it had been a daydream, it was so vivid. "Why?"

"I got worried you'd been in here to long. I tried waving at you from the top of the slide but you just stared blankly at me."

"Sorry, I was lost in thought," Alan said as he got out of the tub. "Let's go get something to drink," Alan said as he turned and headed for the drink bar at the edge of the pool area. The each got a bottle of sparkling water and sat at a table in the corner. They talked about how relaxing the afternoon had already been and thoughts for the evening as they enjoyed their drinks.

As they finished up and were dropping the empty bottles into the recycling Elizabeth spoke, "Why don't you get us each one more while I grab our shirts. We can take them up to the room and relax for a bit before dinner. I want to look at those discounts they gave up."

"Sounds good," Alan said as he watched her walking away, enjoying the view of her derriere in the skin tight fabric of her suit. She was half way to their shirts before he snapped himself out of it and went to the bar to get a couple more waters.

He handed the bottles to Elizabeth upon her return and took his shirt, pulling it on. She reached over and took his hand as they walked to the elevators. She didn't let it go until they were back in the room.

"Why don't you slip out of that wet suit, then see if you can find something to watch on tv. I'm going to take a quick shower so my hair can dry before dinner," Elizabeth said as she pulled her arms into her shirt.

Alan slipped out of his trunks and pulled off his t-shirt, tossing them in the bathroom. He wrapped himself in a towel before heading to the living room area of the suite.

As he picked up the remote and sat in the recliner he saw Elizabeth coming back out of the bedroom. She was still dressed in the t- shirt she'd worn as a cover up, her swimsuit was in her left hand and she was had dry clothes draped over her right arm.

"I figured it was easiest to just get dressed for dinner when I'm done with my shower," Elizabeth said as she headed into the bathroom and shut the door. It was almost 40 minutes later when she emerged from the bathroom and said, "Your turn Sweety."

"Sounds good Honey," Alan said as he got up and turned toward the bathroom. He almost dropped his towel as he took in the site in front of him.

"I take it you like?" Elizabeth asked as she did a slow twirl for her husband. She was wearing 3 inch heels, her legs were wrapped in sheer nylon stockings that disappeared under a knee length black skirt that was set off by a red belt that matched the cotton blouse she had on.

"Very much," Alan said as he approached her. "Maybe we should skip dinner," he added giving her a playful wink.

Elizabeth looked at her watch and said, "We'll have time for that later. Go take a shower and get dressed, I laid an outfit out for you on the bed. I'm hungry."

"It'll have to be a cold shower now," Alan said, giving her derriere a squeeze as he walked past her and into the bathroom. He emerged a short time later to see Elizabeth relaxing in the recliner with her ear buds in. "What are you doing?" he asked as he headed for the bedroom.

"Listening to that new app while you get ready," she said in a voice that sounded like she was half asleep.

Alan headed into the bedroom and found the outfit she'd laid out for him. Alan dresses in the clothes she'd laid out. He usually wasn't one for coordinating outfits but he had to admit that his wife had great taste. He was in a pair of black khakis, with a matching belt and a red polo shirt. He slipped on his black dress shoes and headed out to the livingroom are to join Elizabeth who still had her earbuds in and looked like she was asleep.

As he walked over to check on her she opened her eyes and stretched. " Oh that felt good," Elizabeth said as she removed the earbuds from her ears. "You look great Alan," Elizabeth said as she put her earbuds back in the case and dropped it in her purse.

"Thanks, so what felt great?"

"Remember the app I mentioned where I saw the ad for this place?"

"Yeah, what about it"

"It's a relaxation app, it is pretty sweet. Listening to it can make a person feel like they've been asleep for hours. It can be a great pick me," E lizabeth said as she dropped her phone in her purse.

"Oh," was the only response Alan could come up with.

"You look great Sir," Elizabeth said as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Let's go check this place out and get some dinner," Elizabeth said as she wrapped her arm in his and gently nudged him toward the door.

"Sounds good," Alan said as he grabbed their key cards on the way to the door.

Elizabeth seemed to be slightly distracted to Allen as they made their way around the impressive complex. They'd seen several shows that looked interesting but the resort had a policy of not selling tickets more than 30 minutes before a show, regardless of the performer. They had this policy to combat the problem most other venues in the area had with scalpers, with such a limited window between tickets going on sale and the start of the shows it was just to risky for them.

The couple saw some possibilities they wanted to check out as the showtimes got closer, they were discussing options when they came across a restaurant called The Cove that seemed to be set apart from the rest of the food establishments. The place seemed quiet and cozy so Elizabeth pushed Alan to check it out.

As they entered they were greeted by a woman that seemed to be in her mid 20s and was dressed in a black dress that hugged her almost like a second skin. The skirt around her legs prevented her from talking much more than an 18 inch stride, which caused her to appear to almost glide across the floor a she approached them and said, "Welcome to the cove, I'm Alexis. Will it just be the two of you tonight?"

"Yes, and if it matters we were given this at checkin," Elizabeth said as she showed the Alexis the discount card.

Alan felt a chill at the grin Alexis gave at the site of the card. He couldn't be sure because her head didn't move but he could have sworn he saw Alexis looking Elizabeth up and down with her eyes as she smiled and said, "Actually that does get you a 15% discount on your bill as well as you get free access to one of our more private seating areas." She grabbed a couple of menus and lead them toward some alcoves near the back of the restaurant. "Here you go," she said as she laid the menus on the table and pulled out one of the chains. "For the lady," she said, bowing her head slightly and offering her hand to Elizabeth.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said as she took it and sat down.

The hostess helped her slide the chain in before moving to the opposite side of the table and pulling out a second chair. "For you Master," she said as she again bowed her head and held out her hand, palm up this time.

Alan reluctantly took her hand and sat down. "Ah, Thank you," he said as the hostess slid his chair in as well.

She picked up the menus, turned to Alan and asked, "does she need a menu or will Master be ordering for both of you?"

Alan starred at her in disbelief for a second. Before he could respond though Elizabeth spoke up. Keeping her head bowed she said, "I don't need a menu, Master will be ordering for me."

"Excellent, she's well trained," the hostess responded, handing him a menu and gliding away before Alan could say anything.

"What was that about?" Alan asked.

"I don't know, they seem to have some kind of dominance theme going on here," Elizabeth replied. "Did you notice anything odd about the Hostess?"

"Besides the fact that I don't think they could have painted that dress on her any tighter you mean? She could barely take a stride in that thing."

"You're close but not quite. That material stretches well, I have a few pieces of clothing of the same material. That wasn't what was limiting her strides." Alan just starred at her so she continued, "I thought I heard a jingle like sound as we were walking to the table but I wasn't sure where it was comming from. So when she was walking away I took a look at her feet and that's when I saw it."

"Saw what?"

'There's some kind of chain between her ankles, I think she's wearing some kind of ankle cuffs."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. So when you combine that with her calling you Master, and then her asking if I'll need a menu or if you'll be ordering for me it just made sense. This place has some kind of dominance/bondage theme going on. I thought it could be fun to play along, that's why I said that you could order for me."

Alan wasn't sure what to make of this but decided it wasn't worth arguing about so he picked up the menu and began to scan it's pages. He wasn't quite sure what to order when he spotted her favorite. Having already picked out his own meal, he closed the menu and laid it back on the table. They talked until their waitress came. As she approached the table Alan noticed that she seemed to float across the floor just like the hostess did so he looked down. He couldn't be sure but he was fairly certain he saw a chain between her feet as well. He'd considered just saying their orders but inspiration struck as she approached the table so he waived the waitress in close. When she leaned in he whispered the order to her.

The waitress punched things in on a tablet as Alan spoke. When he finished the waitress stood and said, "Excellent choices Sir, will there be anything else?"

"That will be all."

As the waitress turned to walk away, Alan heard a very faint chain jingle and he confirmed his wife was right about the theme.

"So what did you order me?"

Elizabeth felt a surprising tingle down her spine as Alan responded, "You'll have to wait and see Slave." She was surprised to see him getting that into character. While they'd never experimented with that kind of thing in their relationship, nor had she done that with any of her previous boyfriends Elizabeth couldn't deny the tingles it was causing all over her body.

Their conversation returned mostly to normal as they discussed ideas for the weekend while they waited for their food. They were interrupted once by the waitress bringing their beverages, but otherwise it was a great conversation.

Elizabeth felt a shiver of anticipation as the waitress approached them with their food. The tray was set on a table behind her so she couldn't see what he had ordered either of them. The waitress brought Alan his food first, a sirloin steak and a baked potato. The shiver intensified as the waitress glided behind Elizabeth to retrieve the rest of the meal. The anticipation grew even more when instead of bringing her meal the waitress returned with a small tray of steak sauce cups and topping options for his baked potato. Her eyes grew wide insuprise as the waitress returned with a plate of grilled chicken and broccoli cheese pasta and placed it in front of Elizabeth.

As she stared at her meal the waitress turned to Alan and asked, "Will there be anything else?"

"That will be all, you may go."

"You're getting into this aren't you?" Elizabeth asked, flashing Alan a grin as the waitress walked away.

"Its not exactly my thing, but it's fun for something different," Alan replied as he started to cut his steak.

The two of them ate mostly in silence. They finished up their meal and theit plates had just been cleared when a man wearing a black suit and glasses approached the table. As he came to a stop next to their table Elizabeth felt a shiver travel up her entire body, as it faded she realized that she couldn't move from the neck down.

"Greetings, my name is Mr. Smith. I'm the owner of the resort. How was your meal?"

"Very good, thank you," Alan replied. "Its quite the place you have here."

"I'm glad you like it, mind if I sit down?"

"Go ahead," Alan replied as he gestured towards the open chair.

Elizabeth felt a stirring in her hips as the man sat down. Something just felt wrong about all of this, she tried to object but found her lips wouldn't move.

"Thank you," he said as he took a seat. "The hostess mentioned the card your wife showed when you arrived tonight."

"Its no big deal, just something they gave us at the front desk when we checked in," Alan responded.

"Actually it's more than just some card. The ad that offers that package only runs in one place. It's an ad that's part of a relaxation app I wrote a few years ago. This is the first time someone has booked a stay with us through that ad so as a taken of my appreciation I've decided to comp your check for tonight. Your dinner is on the house."

"That's extremely generous of you Sir, Thank you," Alan said as he reached out to shake the man's hand.

Elizabeth didn't know why but something about this scene made her want to scream "stop, don't do it" as their hands came together but her mouth wouldn't respond. She just sat their watching as her husband's hand slowly gripped Mr. Smith's hand and shook it.

"You're welcome you idiot," Mr Smith said with an evil grin as he saw the shocked expression semi frozen on Alan's face. He lowered Alan's hand back to the surface of the table and released it. "Much better, this goes so much easier this way," he added as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. He opened the bag and dropped the gloves he'd been wearing into it and sealed it. "I gave you a mild neural inhibitor, the effects will wear off in about 15 minutes." He turned to face Elizabeth and said, "I need to talk with your husband privately so I need you to sleep."

Elizabeth suddenly felt all the energy drain from her body, she was barely able to get her arms folded and lay her head down on her hands before everything went black.

Satisfied that she was out of the way, he turned back to face Alan and said, "That's better. Are you still able to blink?"

Alan wasn't sure what was happening but he tried to move his eyes and found that he could still blink.

"Very good, now blink once if your wife has mentioned the relaxation app shed been using lately."

Alan gave him a slow blink.

"Very good," Mr Smith said, giving an evil grin that make Alan extremely uncomfortable. "As you can guess it is more than a simple relaxation app. Its actually designed to hypnotize the listener and plant basic suggestions in their minds that slowly enslave them." He turned to face the sleeping Elizabeth and said, "your wife is an excellent subject by the way. Less than 3% of the app users surrender at all and are actually enslaved, most just find it extremely relaxing and the hypnosis doesn't do anything for them."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed me a short video my wife chanting, "I am your servant Master, I live to serve, use my body for your pleasure."

How did he get that video of her I wondered as I watched it. Looking at the video though I couldn't deny how hot she looked and even in my paralyzed state i felt myself getting hard from the image of her like that.

"She gave me the passwords to your computers and I've been snooping through your files for a while," he explained as he closed the video. "From there it was easy to get unrestricted access to all of your electronic devices," he continued as he pulled a different phone from his pocket, this one looked identical to mine. "Let me show you proof," he said as he unlocked the phone and opened a file browser. "Recognize these?" he asked with a wicked grin that made me want to wince. That was the least of my worries as he turned the screen to face me and I felt the blood drain from my face. The screen was showing the contents of what was supposed to be a secure folder on my personal phone, a folder absolutely noone knew about. "Judging by the lack of color in your face you do, am I right? Blink once for yes."

I gave him one slow blink as I continued to stare at the screen in shock. This folder contained all of the stories I'd downloaded from the net, stories I didn't want anyone else to see but that was minor compared to what he did next. He opened a password protected document file that almost caused me to faint. It was the document that I used to write my own fantasies down in, fantasies about my wife and several women we knew. Some of these fantasies made the other stories seem tame by comparison. They were all fantasies of my wife being controlled by other men. Even my wife didn't know about these fantasies, if the contents of this file got out I would be ruined. Not only would my wife leave me but it would be a severe violation of the ethics clause in my employment contract and any violations of that clause meant immediate termination.

"Now that you're grasping the situation better I'm betting you want to know what I want to make this go away, don't you?"

I gave him one slow blink, figuring that was the way he'd had me say yes in the past.

"Very good but let's start with the simple part first. I have a very basic set of demands. If you agree to them, your secrets stay hidden. If you defy me or don't follow all of the demands to their fullest, your wife and your employer will receive copies of everything saved on your phone. Do you understand? "

I blinked that I did.

"Good then here are the list of demands, I'll go through them one by one for you to make it easier for you to agree. 1st you're not allowed to leave the resort grounds for the rest of your visit here, I know you're booked through Monday morning. Do you agree to that?"

I wasn't planning on going anywhere anyway so I blinked once.

"You are forbidden from contacting anyone about what is happening in any way. If you even make an attempt the files will be released. I configured my clone of your phone to perfectly mirror your phone. I'll see every text or email message you send or receive. It is also configured for me to hear every phone call you make, my phone even has the ability to block incoming or out going calls from getting through to your phone. Do you understand? "

I gave him another slow blink to accept the condition. I was getting very worried about what his next condition when he spoke again.

"Your wife will be coming with me for the remainder of your stay here so I can continue to program and play with her however I want. If you're a good boy and follow the rules she'll be returned to you before your checkout time on Monday. When she is returned to you she won't remember anything that happened other than she had a great time. Do you understand? "

*Blink *

"Good, so do you agree to my terms?"

I didn't move, he had to be bluffing. There had to be a way out of this, I just needed to stall until the drug wore off. Sadly those hopes were quickly dashed by what he did next.

He opened my email on my phone and started a new message. He addressed the message to everyone in my contact list. He then attached my journal file to the message, then typed this in the body of the message:

You all need to read the attached file. I've been hiding a part of my life from you for to long. This document will explain everything. " he then gave them the password to open the attached file.

With that done he turned back to me and said, "You have a choice to make. In a moment I'm going to ask you a question and you'll have to decide between two choices. You'll tell me your choice by blinking once to pick choice one and you'll blink twice if you choose option two. Give me a single blink if you understand."

I didn't have much choice given my current situation so I responded with a single slow blink.

"Very good, now here are your choices. Choice number one, I hit send on this email and wake your wife as I'm walking away. She's been programmed that if this happens she'll ignore that your frozen and check her email. She will have plenty of time to read through enough of the file to be seriously pissed off at you before the drugs keeping you paralyzed wear off. Your second choices is you allow me to take your wife with me and use her however I want for the rest of the weekend. You will tell noone about what has happened and go about your weekend as if nothing happened. When I'm through having my fun with her, she'll be returned to you until I decide to summon her again. Give me another single blink if you understand these choices."

With no other choice, I gave him a single blink to acknowledge that I unfortunately understood the choices he was giving me.

Showing me that he still had the email up on his screen he turned to me and said, "Then make your decision now."

I just sat there and glared at him, he had to be bluffing. A look of frustration grew on his face which offered me hope that he was bluffing, until he spoke again.

"I see you're trying to play with me, you must think I'm bluffing or something dumb like that so let me be clear," he said as he moved his finger over the send button. "I'm going to count to three, if you haven't made your choice before I reach three, it will be a default to choice one and I'll hit send." He took a deep breath before saying, "one." He took another deep breath and said, "two."

He took another deep breath and started moving his finger towards the send button before Alan caved and gave him two blinks.

"I actually thought you were going to let me send the message," he said with an evil chuckle as he pulled his finger away from the button. "You made a wise choice," he said as he turned the clone phone off and put it in his pocket. "I'll take good care of her," he said as he reached over and tapped Elizabeth on the back of her neck three times.

She slowly sat up in her chair. Her eyelids fluttered a few times as she said in a monotone voice, "bootup sequence engaged, running diagnostics." She sat basically motionless for a few seconds before her eyes slowly opened. When they finally did it was a little freaky, they didn't have their usual life to them. She just looked straight ahead with a cold, blank stare for a few seconds. It was at least a full minute after her eyes opened before she spoke, "Fembot unit E44D is online, all systems are operating within normal parameters. How may unit E44D serve you Master?"

He got up and moved around to her side of the table. Taking hold of the back of her chair he said, "Stand up."

"Affirmative," she replied as he helped her slide her chair back and she rose to her feet.

"Follow me," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

Alan watched helplessly as Elizabeth followed him out of his line of sight. Frozen as he was, he had no real sense of how much time had passed before he felt his ability to move returning to him. The first thing he did was to grab his phone and try to call 911 to report Elizabeth's kidnapping, his heart sank when he got an error message on the screen that read:

That number has been blocked on this phone for the duration of your stay here. DO NOT attempt to call it again or you will face discipline.

"SHIT!" he exclaimed as the message faded off the screen. He tried to search for the direct line to the local police department when he received another warning:

Unable to display search results, you are not authorized to have this information. Cease all further attempts to interfere or else. This is your only warning.

This time there was a thumbnail image in the bottom of the screen, Alan nervously clicked on it. He almost dropped his phone in shock as the picture enlarged to fill the screen. It was an animated gif image of Elizabeth, she was kneeling over the leg of a hooded character. The hooded character lifted her skirt out of the way to expose her beautiful backside. He then raised his hand high into the air and held it there a few seconds. He suddenly brought his hand quickly down towards her but Elizabeth didn't move. The hand stopped mere inches before it made contact. The image faded to black as Elizabeth slowly stood up. The last couple seconds of the gif were simply the words "next time he won't stop the swing" before the image and the warning disappeared from his screen.

Alan reluctantly returned to his room to think of another way to get even.

[eckva-offical]

Alis Pastry: Alis meets the wall

By ██████ ███████

Final draft.

Enter scene one

The space is dark and smells of mold and rot. Office desks sit in various states of dust and decay, with a mix of abandoned personal and professional artifacts scattered around. Florescent lights flicker, painting the scene sickly green. There are, however, three desks that stand out.

A panning shot shows each desk

One holds an ancient looking box of a computer. Nearly organized and clinical with one photo frame, a small desk toy, a fountain pen set in a stand and a simple note pad. A desk lamp gives it a cool blue light.

One has a drawing tablet set to the graphics for a bright new show. There's a clutter of colourful trinkets and a half-eaten tart. There is a multitude of picture frames. It is lit by fairy lights and a small soft moon lamp. A more cream tone light

One has a sleek laptop, some notebooks, worn paperbacks and hardcover fiction books sit on a small shelf. There are no photo frames but there is a small painting on a tiny easel. A green-shaded lamp illuminates it a cozy yellow.

All is still, the only sound is the soft buzz of the lights and the whirring of the ancient cube of a computer. The silence goes on.

Suddenly, a loud thump sends the space into a flurry of action. Papers and dust fly up with urgency. A bright, bright silhouette is shown clashing with a fizzling crackling glitched out the beast. The glitched beast ducks it's head at the bright figure's neck. A loud high pitched tone is heard and the bright figure struggles violently. TV static plays loud and harsh as the glitch beast pulls back, light dripping approximately from where one would assume its mouth is.

The Light: F̧̝̣̪͘O͉̻̖͎̲̣͔̗͉͢O̷͏̬͈͇̱̤L͏͚̩̻̖̣̰̬͍͝I̷̤͖̳̘͠S̵̛͕̟̫͢ͅH̴͖́.҉̷̶̞̝̝̲͍͎̭ ͙̥̤̖͙͉̤̺F̝̤̞̟Ų̴͙̫̼͈͢T̷͖̣̘I̴̛̭͎̫̘̱͎͚ͅL̶̖͓͇̘͔E̢̯̞͈̦̗̮̦͕̦.̲͖̗̤̤ ̬̰̫̠̦̞̬A̫̩̟ ̶͖̖̞̺̮̣̣Ẉ̡̺A̖͕͠S̪͉̘͞͠T̘̺͘͢Ḛ̼̺͕̞̪ ̪̥̞̪O̪͔̺͔̹̹F̨͖̹̦̮̖͔͓̫̟̀ ͍͈̳͈M̻̭͓̠̲̺͟Y̩͡ͅ ͙͙̗̬̣̜̕͘͘E͖̜͡͡ͅF̧̰̘̰̺̪͎͖F̷̗̮̜̮̬̰̱͠O͇̮R̯̤̗T̡̛̯̲͔̭͎͔̠̕

Her: 01000010 01101111 01101100 01100100 00101110 00100000 01011001 01101111 01110101 00100111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110111 01100101 01100001 01101011 00100000

The struggle continues. The silhouette rakes violent claws across the glitches back and the static turns to a roar. The high pitch tone crackles. Viscous neon goo spills from gashes in the beasts back. It seems to grow more Savage with pain.

Her: 00100000 01101000 01101111 01110010 01110010 01101001 01100100 00101110 00100000 01001110 01101111 00100000 01100110 01100001 01101101 01101001 01101100 01111001 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01101101 01101001 01101110 01100101 00100000

The Light: Í̪̬̼͈̻͍͙̰Ņ͏̜̖̬̖S̸̨̞̟͕͈͉̠͠ͅO̮͇͈̟L̞̟̤͟E͏̺̯̪̱̥̹̖N͙̠̹̣̥̯̕ͅT̲̙̫͕̤̻̳̀ ͍̫̰͠C̗̦H̶̩͓͙̹̕Í̷͏̰̮͇̻̥̺̩̰L̨͍̥D͚͔͍͙͕̯͍̫

The fight becomes an indistinct mess as light tangles with neon signal loss. The camera drifts up to a vent and fades to black as the sounds of struggle continue

Enter scene two

The space is still dark but the light of a microwaves time creates a small spot of green. Three figures sit at a table. One with patches of dripping fuzzy rainbow static. One with black and white fuzz. One with no static or light at all. All humanoid. The distant sounds of the struggle are far off here.

Doc: please dear you're OK, we're here. She has a plan on how to escape she's been working very hard on it for a long time and we have Her

Harlot: won't work won't work too late too late too long. The Light is here. Too strong, too just. No no no this won't-

Bug: and. If we fail what then? We become part of it. But I want to hedge my bets on escape. If we lose we just cease. I'd rather go out on my own terms than its.

Harlot: punished. Will be punished violently with no mercy, no remorse. No end. Hell. On earth, there will be hell

Doc: I trust Her. She hasn't failed yet, she's too strong for it. That's how she escaped.

Harlot: let Her. Let go let go as deception-

Harlots' eyes start to glow. Doc slips his glasses off fast and presses them gently onto Harlots' face. The glow dims back to black and white fuzz

Harlot: won't make the cut won't make the cut won't make the cu-

Bug: is that reality or what The Light wants you to think

Harlot: don't know don't know. Too long here. Reality is fuzzy indistinct. Burnt burning ash

Doc: they could have lied to you

Harlot:...

The sound of an old TV cracking as it cools is heard

Harlot: possibly

Bug: we need to take what time we can and run while Her has The Light occupied

Doc: but, what about Her? She can't do it herself shes strong but-

Bug: she's aware of this.

Doc: No we can't, no she'll be alone-

Bug: I said we're leaving

A soft sniffle is heard as the regular human figure starts to cry.

Harlot: oh...

Doc: oh... Oh no, I'm so sorry. Yeah come on we can go.

The three figures stand and leave the table. The regular one takes the lead out the room sniffing and reading a rudimentary weapon. The one with patches of static holds the black and white fuzz's hand. The black and white fuzz holds a small tin lunch box. A pop is heard as they leave, along with a suddenly very loud high pitched tone. The camera goes to black as the microwave shorts out

Enter scene three.

Too dark to see anything but vague shapes. The camera is moving, following three running figures. The footsteps are loud and there's panicked breathing. The sound of a computers fan starts stuttering in.

Doc: come on dear just a little further then we'll reach the fire exit

Harlot: I know I know

Bug: shut the fuck up

The figures continue sprinting. With a sudden turn, the space is lit by a green emergency exit sign. The sound of static and the high pitched tone are soft but getting louder. The figure in the front gestures back making a grabbing motion. The figure at the backhands a tin lunch box forward. With the box in its hand, the leader crouches flipping it open violently. A loud pop and the static, the high tone become deafening. The bright silhouette and the glitch beast fly into the scene from seemingly nowhere.

One of the dark silhouettes screams, the crouching leader grabs something out of the tin and hurls it at the bright silhouette. Black spots appear on it and the high pitched tone becomes sporadic. The static roars again. The leader lets out a muffled sob and throws the lunch box at the two battling figures. The figures freeze. Then with the same pop that came as they entered they vanish and the lunch box falls to the ground glowing, and everything falls silent. The closest figure walks to it and flips it shut, closing the latch fast. The middle figure goes to the crouched leader and rubs their back mumbling soft apologies.  Bug: I wish it could be different I wish we could have-

Doc: I know me too. But this is what she wanted. I don’t know what Her life would have been like if she had made it out.  The leader sniffs and nods. The figure that closed the lunch box picks it up and walks to the fire exit door quietly, skirting around the two crouched figures.

Harlot: We should go...

Bug: Yes, sorry. Would you like to do the honours

Harlot: No. 

The leader and the figure by the door turn to the final figure, who nods with a sigh and gets up. They stand up and walk to the door, reaching out and pressing the handle. 

It opens with a click, daylight floods in.