#i want my computer back but have to wait till monday

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 5- Overstimulation

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 1.9k

Rating: 18+

Warning: Brief alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), desk sex, fingering, swearing, use of safeword.

Masterlist

The fact that Jack’s position as the CEO of Statesman Distillery demanded a lot from him always have been clear to you. The thing is: sometimes Jack didn’t know when to stop and put the work aside, and then you decided that it’d be your job to change his mind. Most of the time, just sitting on his lap and demanding his attention was enough for him to forget about the paperwork, but there were those times when that annoying workaholic manner showed up, those times when, after coming back home around 6 pm, he’d easily remain in front of his computer and pile of files until midnight if you didn’t stop him.

Usually, this behavior used to last only for a day or two, and was easy to take Jack out of it, but on that week, it was starting to get unbearable. It started on a Sunday night when he claimed he needed to give a last check on the paperwork for the next Monday, but then, he gave you the same explanation for the following six days, and you were getting done with all that.

Saturday, after a couple of glasses of wine, you decided that your limit had been hit. Being sitting on the couch watching a movie and drinking alone at 5 p.m. on a Saturday, while your husband was locked in his office for the last three hours was almost depressing.

Deciding to put an end to that, you walked through the hallway and entered Jack’s office without even bothering to knock on the door. When he noticed your presence, you were already sitting on the edge of his desk and closing his laptop with not much delicacy. Jack looked at you with a frown, still wearing his reading glasses, and raised one eyebrow while waiting for an explanation.

“We gonna stay on this ‘till when?” you inquired while crossing your arms.

“What are you talking about, honey?” he asked clueless, placing his forearms on the armrests of his chair

“I’m talking about the fact that seems that Statesman is your wife and I’m the third wheel here.” Judging by the silence and the tip of his tongue rubbing on his upper lip, you knew that he got what was the problem.

“Fair enough.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before looking at you again “But, honey, you need to understand…”

“Don’t you dare finish this sentence.” You interrupted him and rolled your eyes “Do we have any unsolved fight that I’m not aware of?”

“No, we don’t.” he sounded confused while answering.

“What’s the matter then? Middle age-crisis? Your testosterone levels are low? Are you banging your secretary? Do you want to divorce? What the fuck is happening to you, Jack?” you narrowed your eyes when he chuckled and shook his head.

“It ain’t nothing of that, sugar.” He assured, still having a smirk on his face.

“So can I have my damn husband back or it’s time for me to go to the sex shop?” Jack couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Your whole problem is just the fact that we’re not having sex?” he asked with that dangerously gorgeous cocky smirk.

“It’s not just that, but this is for sure a considerable part of the problem.” You shrugged.

“C’mere, sugar.” He said while patting one of his thighs and of course, you didn’t flinch before moving and getting mounted on his lap “You’re right, okay? I’ve been an ass with you these last days.” Jack passed his arms around your waist and kissed your collarbone “But I think you can forgive me, right?” he asked while kissing your neck.

“Depends.” You said while leaning your head to the side, letting your neck more exposed to him “What am I gaining for forgiving you?”

“Y’know I’m a fair man, honeybee.” Jack kissed your neck a few times before nibbling your chin and looking at you “I’ll give you exactly what you want.” You wanted so badly to make things more difficult for him, but you never have been able to resist when he looked at you with those puppy eyes, and his hands caressing your thighs for sure didn’t help you to resist.

“Fine, cowboy.” You said while approaching your face, resting your forehead on his “I think I can have mercy on you.”

“I knew my pretty lady wouldn’t be mean to me.” He bit your lower lip softly as his hands finally reached your butt under your dress, making him smile widely with the realization that you had nothing on under it. “You’re getting too naughty, Mrs. Daniels.” You chuckled and passed your arms around his neck.

“Well, why would I bother with panties when my husband wasn’t interested in taking ’em off?” you raised both of your eyebrows and knew you had pushed the right buttons when Jack moved his hand to hold the back of your neck.

“Oh honey, you’ll regret not controlling your pretty mouth.” He didn’t give you time to think and kissed you hungrily, just now realizing how much he had missed and was desperate for you.

Jack had no hesitation while moving his hands to the buttons in the front of your dress and opening them, getting you rid of the fabric in the blink of an eye. You were about to start to work on his shirt too, but he didn’t give you the chance, sitting you on his desk and moving from his chair to kneel between your legs, laying your thighs on his shoulders.

The amount of time without his touch made you even more desperate for him when he started to kiss your inner thighs and, at the very moment his mouth was just a few inches away from your cunt, you already were soaked, needing him more than ever.

“Fuck…” you whimpered with closed eyes and grabbed Jack’s hair when his tongue finally slid through your throbbing core. You were starting to get calmer and used to that sensation, but of course, your husband wouldn’t make things easy for you and his next move was cowardly lick and suck your already swollen and hipper-sensitive clit, giving you no choice but moan audibly and squeeze his head between your thighs.

Most of the time, Jack would take it easy with you, sometimes even making you beg for more, but the situation was a bit different that time. He didn’t give you a second to breathe or try to calm down, eating you relentlessly while his hands caressed your whole body, groping your curves handful. You tried with all your efforts to hold back a little more, not even noticing when your free hand crumpled a few papers that were on the desk, too carried away to care if they were important.

You moaned loudly when finally reached your orgasm, feeling your hips moving involuntarily, and sighing softly when Jack kissed your thigh. Your eyes remained closed, but the sudden touch on your sensitive clit made you open your eyes and look down, just to see Jack’s thumb rubbing your clit while his index and middle finger moved inside you, not allowing you to calm down before making you squirm and moan again. While observing you failing miserably to try to control yourself, Jack pushed everything on his desk to the side, making a few items fall on the floor, and, judging by the noise, you could swear that his laptop was among these items.

Carefully, he leaned you down, laying your torso on the wooden surface without ever interrupting his work between your legs, making you whimper and contort, not surprisingly feeling that it wouldn’t need much more for you to cum again. Jack leaned forward and braced himself in one hand to kiss your neck, aware of the effects it would have on you. The joint of the unfairly precise move of his hand and the delicious scratching of his mustache on your skin became too much in these circumstances and you gave up trying to control your body, just letting go and enjoying the feeling of another climax.

When you felt Jack pulling his fingers out of you, you were sure that now he’d give you a moment to calm down and you couldn’t be more wrong. Before you could even process that the low noise you’ve heard was Jack’s belt being undone and his fly being opened, he already was sliding his cock inside you, making you whimper and breath heavily; you were still unable to calm down the effects of all the previous stimulation and he was giving you more to deal with. With a ton of effort, you propped up on your elbows, looking at him with a pleading expression.

“Jack,” his name was moaned out of your lips “It’s too much.” The smirk on his lips just made you sure that his intention was exactly that.

“You wanted my attention, honeybee, so you’ll have it.” He mocked while passing your legs around his hips “Furthermore,” he caressed your lower lip with his thumb while speaking “I’m pretty sure my beautiful wife can take it.” You couldn’t hold back a defeated chuckle, sucking his thumb in a teasing way.

“You’re a cruel motherfucker.” you said with your breath irregular, making him laugh.

“Maybe I am, but, judging by your state, I’m sure you like it.” He teased, referring to the fact that, once more, you were pathetically turned on and wet.

“You know I do.” You admitted with a smile, giving up on trying to argue with him.

“The answer I expected.” His cocky smile was brighter than ever “Now come here, my love.” Jack grabbed your neck and pulled you to him, sitting you again on the desk and kissing you intensely while starting to slam his hips against you, resulting in you letting out a scandalous moan. He kept one arm around your waist while kissing your neck and whispering the sweetest compliments in this world with a calm tone as if he wasn’t railing you.

His free hand moved to between your legs again, destroying the crumbs of self-control you had recovered. You allowed your body to get filled with that good sensation that was growing on your lower stomach and sank your face into the curve of his neck, passing your arms around him and pulling him closer with your legs, making him let out a hoarse moan. It was the last straw, then, once more, you felt your body succumbing to the orgasm. Jack kept his steady pace, smiling while seeing you starting to move involuntarily even more, getting overwhelmed with everything. You were feeling too much, it was too much. Even loving every piece of that moment and being unmeasurably happy for finally having your husband back, you were too sensitive and overloaded with sensation to bear more of that.

“Yellow.” You mumbled one of the safewords you two have established and Jack promptly stopped everything, looking worried at you.

“You’re okay, sugar?” he asked while making you lift your head and look at him. You nodded softly while regaining your breath and self-control.

“I just need a little break.” You said after a moment, making Jack smirk.

“Oh honey, trust me, you’ll need a few more breaks before we’re done.” He answered in his usual convinced tone and held your face gently between his hands, kissing you softly.

Cowboytober Masterlist

[anonymouspuzzler]

Yay Yipee I Finally Remembered I Should Update Folks On Things That Are Happening

because hey whoops as some of you might remember Supposedly I Stream Sometimes! That Uhhhh Hasn't Happened In A While Has It! so I should probably let folks know what's goin' on!! the long and the short of it is

Around late November/early December I started having issues where Discord would crash and restart anytime I tried to screenshare my capture software with my friends who I stream with. This put console game streams (so 2/3 of the games we were streaming) on the backburner till I could troubleshoot and solve that issue

On top of that it was Fucking Finals Season for me at my Graduate School so at a certain point I had to be responsible and focus on getting my final projects & essays done, which meant sacrificing stream time till my break (where I would hopefully have time to troubleshoot and then do a ton of streaming to make up for lost time)

Except THEN literally the second I went home for the holidays my hard drive abruptly and completely died. It is very possible that this contributed to the aforementioned tech issues

I was able to replace the drive and get my computer working again but because I have a Fucking Curse a lot of tech-side things were lost or started experiencing issues due to the new drive, namely A) I haven't been able to get my capture software working yet and B) whoops my entire OBS layout is just gone now I guess

This whole saga, on top of juggling other life shit and work and the like, effectively ate up my entire winter break

so tl;dr! I have a computer curse and because of it streams are gonna have to wait till I can get both OBS and my capture software working again. I'm hoping to work on that this weekend so I can be back to streaming next week, but given my school & job workload I'm guessing it'll more likely be two or three weeks. On top of that, I won't be streaming most of March due to reason of "my partner is visiting then". all of this sucks cause I want to be streaming, both for reason of "i like spending time with my good friends doing this" and "haha whoops I'm not earning money now and oh boy there sure are a lot of expenses flying at my head like rocks huh".

I've already rambled a bit more than I'd like to now so here's da main points:

Streams will (HOPEFULLY) be back in February. When they are, they'll be Monday & Tuesday nights, 5:30pst/8:30est, for as long as my friends remain available at those times (we're all adults having to look for or maintain Day Jobs so availability could change. y'all know how it is). I may also do occasional one-off streams on weekends as my energy 'n schedule permits, most likely art streams

I'll continue to be around on Holly's streams Fri/Sat/Sun as her schedule permits, because I don't have to rebuild OBS from the ground up for that

There is a 99.99% chance I'll be totally absent stream-wise during March

Even though streams are facing The Troubles I am still taking art commissions! Those haven't been affected!! You can submit an interest form here and I'll reach out to confirm prices as soon as I'm ready to start work on yours

If, out of the kindness of your heart, you would like to toss some support my way during The Troubles (which would be much appreciated; as said I've got a lot of expenses coming my way and unfortunately my day job covers my rent and nothing more), here are some other ways you can do so: -- Tip me on Ko-Fi; if you pay $9 or more you can request a doodle that I'll do for you and post on here & twitter (and might stream the process of drawing once that's up and running again). Here's an example of some Ko-Fi doodles I did previously -- You can also tip through my stream page if you want but I probably won't see those till I start streaming again. Still appreciated!!! -- I have a Throne Wishlist that's mostly stuff like kitchenware, household goods, stuff for my kitty, etc. There's also a few Fun Things though, like vinyls and a billy big bass Jay insisted I add. Either way, if you wanna contribute to something on there it means a lot. You can also suggest items to make me laugh

an' above all: thank you for reading and for bein' around!!

[the-fiction-witch]

Hidding P2

Media Maze runner AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet

Concept Teachers

I sat doing some marking while the kids worked chatting among themselves as usual.

"Mr Newton," a voice asked making me glance up

"Yes, Peter?"

"I heard a rumour today" Sam laughed beside him

"Ohh? Keep me in the loop then boys"

"We headed a rumour about you Mr. Newton" Peter laughed

"Ohh what about me?"

"That you're dating Miss y/l/n, in the English department" Sam smirked

"Is it true?" Peter asked and the whole class perked up

"Question seven isn't going to answer itself boys," I told them going back to my marking not like I could give them an answer even if part of me wanted too, but we'd be in big trouble if anyone found out about us if I didn't like having to hide our relationship I'd love to be able to snuggle her in my classroom Inna free period or walk down the halls holding her hand but we and to keep hidden for the sake of our jobs.

Once class was over and they all emptied out I finished off some admin and paperwork making sure the kids were all gone home by now as the busses and parents blocked the roads up of not, I got up locking up my computer and my desk grabbing my stuff and headed out leaving the classroom unlocked for the cleaners I headed out signing out at the office

"See you on Monday Isaac"

"See ya Rachel" I waved before heading out to the car park throwing my stuff on the backseats and driving my car out the car park turning the corner and heading down the street stopping in the car park next door for the sports centre attached to the school, even though it was attached it's a private business and off school grounds, I know I researched this shit. I parked up and waited in the space until I saw her having walked from the office herself bag in hand she climbed into the car and threw her stuff in the back too

"Hi Newt"

"Hi y/n" I smiled pulling her into a kiss She happily kissed back and we honestly sat passionately kissing for a good few minutes till we pulled away "Home?"

"Home" she smiled nuzzling into my arm so I started the car up and we headed home, She got working on dinner and I did a load of laundry, We had our dinner and after I finished up the dishes I noticed her on her laptop so I snuck behind her checking what she was up to and when I saw I snapped her laptop down "Hey! Newt" she complained 

"No." I told her giving her a cuddle "Remember what we talked about? work-life balance?"

"Yes..."

"we said when the bell goes we go? that's it no more work."

"I know but-"

"Y/n. Stop worrying" I told her "You're the best one in the English department you have nothing to worry about"

"Easy for you to say, they can't get rid of you. you're the only person in the whole school who can actually teach the stuff in the back of the physics textbooks without just reading it" 

"Love, I teach theoretical physic's if anyone is useless it's me." I laughed "Noone even takes my class because they know it all theory, at least in the other science classes you get to set fires and mix chemicals, Hell even in normal physics you get too muck around with stuff" I explained "Everyone loves your classes, because you're the only person in the English department that seems to understand kids wanna read books published after 1945" 

"True, You know Erica is getting her advanced class doing their exam on the golem" 

"Oh my god... those poor poor kids"

"I know"

"What are you making them do?"

"The Silmarillion"

"Ooohh"

"I know should be good"

"I kinda wanna read their papers too"

"I'm sure you will" she chuckled "I wanted to do Good Omens because I thought it would make some really interesting papers but the exam board says the cut-off is 1980 so I'm not allowed"

"Awww I was looking forward to reading those"

"Me too, plus its nice these advanced kids are overworked as hell as it is, I wanted to give them something with a tv or film adaptation so they can at least mildly cheat"

"but exam board said no"

"Exam board said super no, No media adaptations allowed and has to be published before 1980" 

"1980 is the cut-off? I thought Sarah was doing Handmaid's tale?"

"She was, now she can't. Plus the exam board said she couldn't do Handmaid's Tale because it's 'not appropriate"

"For the advanced class?"

"Yep"

"They do know these kids are seventeen right?"

"Sometimes I wonder if they do, I'm just nervous is all I mean half the maths department is gone after there review, and the ones who kept there jobs now have classes three times the size to contend with"

"I know, but try not to bring it home okay?"

"Okay" she smiled 

"so what do you wanna do this weekend?"

"Take away, puzzles, wine and true crime shows?"

"Ummm I love you"

"I love you too" 

[anime-for-the-sleepless]

To all ends part 3

Aizawa x you

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

It didn't take long for Aizawa's resources to track the IP address down. What he didn't expect, though, was that you'd go as far as leaving the country to get away from him. His heart ached to the point he clutched his chest, trying to keep his breathing under control as his thoughts raced. You went to obviously great lengths to put so much distance between you and him, but the one thing he realized most was that since you left, he's been a mess. He loves you, and without you in his life, he feels incomplete. He went home, shower, shaved a bit, completely cleaning himself up before he made preparations to fly to the States to you. If when he got there and you told him you no longer loved him, he would leavSqpe you alone so you could move on and be happy, but hoped that you wouldn't turn him away.

It wasn't long till he was in the air, leg bouncing nervously.

---

Over the weekend, you completely forgot about the email you had left minimized on the work computer, unknowing that your co-worker hit send for you. Your weekend was uneventful, just restocking your groceries, doing chores around your apartment, and binge watching true crime shows.

The weekend seemed to drag since you moved out here, without work to distract you from your thoughts and the painful hole in your heart where Aizawa was. You couldn't help but ache thinking about him and how much you missed him, wondering if he's moved on? What you never would have guessed he was up to is searching for you.

Monday arrived, and you were back at the lab when one of the other assistants told you that you had a visitor. Curious who could it be, you didnt know anyone outside your job here. So you quickly made your way down to the lobby.

--

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. There at the desk he stood waiting for you. Hair pulled back in a bun, he hated wearing a suit and tie, but wanted to look his best for you, still wearing his capture scarf as always. In his hand, a bouquet of sunflowers and roses. His nervousness skyrocketed as he watched you step off the elevator, freezing in your tracks when your eyes landed on him.

To him, you were as gorgeous as ever. Even though he could tell you were exhausted, you were still radiant. His feet carried him to you before he could even figure out what he would say.

"Y/N.." Aizawa whispered, afraid if he spoke too loud, you'd fade away, the way you always did in his dreams.

---

Tears pricked your eyes. You couldn't believe he was here. How did he find you? Your thoughts swirled, but you couldn't stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck and start crying into his chest. You had missed him so badly, and thought he must hate you for leaving, but here he was.. looking for you.

---

As soon as you threw yourself against him, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing the crown of your head. You two stayed like this for a few moments before you led him to an empty conference room to talk. He kept your hand in his, even after you both sat down.

Both of you tried to talk at the same time, chuckling nervously.

"Please, Y/N. Let me say what I came to say, and then I'll go if you want me to." He pleaded, silently waiting till you nodded shyly.

" I am so sorry for making you feel uncared about, unloved, so badly you fled this far without telling anyone. That you felt like you couldn't even tell those close to you.. I am sorry for neglecting you and our relationship. I was just trying to earn money picking up extra shifts and jobs so that i could give you your dream wedding down to even the slightest detail. I wanted it to be a day you would remember as the happiest day of your life because I didn't want to wait too long before marrying you, and i wanted to surprise you. I should have told you what i was planning." He paused to try to calm his pounding heart.

---

You looked at him with more tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Shouta.." You breathed. "My dream wedding is you being at the end of the asile, waiting for me. I didn't need a big fancy wedding or an expensive dress. I just needed you. I would have told you this had I known all the added missions and patrols you were doing were for that. I thought you were picking up jobs to avoid coming home..to me." You couldn't stop the sob from escaping you before you carried on.

"I felt so alone, like i had become a buden to you. I missed you, i missed us. But it felt like all that was gone. I couldn't.. i couldn't keep living there feeling that way. And i knew that the best thing for both of us was for me to leave because if there was a chance, I'd run into you, and if i did, it would hurt too much. I didn't want you to feel like you had to be with me, so i came out here where there was zero chance of that happening. Or at least that's what i thought. But how did you find me?"

Silence, other than the clock on the wall that kept ticking.

---

He reached up and cupped your cheek, brushing away the tears that slid down it.

"Baby, you are not a burden. You never have been, never will be. I am sorry I was so preoccupied that i failed to notice how much you were hurting and how much you needed me to be there. How I let you down.. I love you and have been searching for you since the day you left. I would still be looking. Had you not sent that email." He smiled softly, thinking about the email that led him back to you.

---

You blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing that your co-worker must have hit send before leaving that night.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, a knock at the door stopped you.

The receptionist poked her head in and informed you that you were needed back in the lab.

You stood up immediately and thanked her, trying to figure out what to say to Aizawa.

---

He beat you to it.

"Let me take you to dinner tonight."

---

You nodded, agreeing to meet him back in the lobby at seven o'clock.

Taglist:

@tired-teacher-blog

[soo0mi]

When the sun hits .. — 17. human scum (written)

hey guys guess who’s back..

warnings ⚠️ — stalker ex bf ( weirdo 😒 )

wordcount ‼️— 1029 / 1.2k wrds

__ seven - eleven ( 1:58 pm )

beep beep — the noise sounded strangely familiar..

you firstly walked over to the chip aisle, looking for something savory you two could munch on. (ouu u a munch 🙈)

“ermm.. what should i buy..” you eyes wandered all over the shelves, looking for an appealing snack. no luck.

“nothing sounds or looks appetizing ..” you sulk, going thru your contacts to find the person who always came and confided in u ever since middle school.

the plan was supposed to be easy.. you go in the store, find snacks, then leave. you didn’t think you’d spend 20 whole minutes with nothing but your phone in hand and your wallet in your pocket.

ring.. ring.. ring.. waiting for him to pick up felt like an eternity.

“what” niki spoke slowly in a low, raspy voice

“dude, did you just wake up..” you check the time on your phone, 2:18 pm.

“and what about it, u got a problem w it ??” he sounds so hostile

“woahh i just asked a question, gang..” you scoff, “why are you so defensive” you say in a teasing tone.

beep beep — the door opened to an unpleasantly familiar face, that lame excuse for a human.

silence fills the air as you both face each other for the first time in god knows how long.

“yn..?? are you there?” the silence is deafening, “jesus fucking christ.” he mumbled as he hung up the phone.

“ynnie..” how dare he call you that after everything he’s done?

“dont call me that, dont ever think you deserve to say my name ever again.”

“can we talk please.” he seems to be desperate.

you look back at the selection of chips behind you.

a rough hand meets your arm from behind. turning around quickly, he flinched and took back his arm, “what the fuck do you want from me, Lee Jong suk.” (lets pretend hes not like old.. ☺️)

“i just wanna have a little talk.” he comes closer to you

“just say what you need to say, i bet its useless anyways.” you back away from him, “nothing useful ever comes out of your shit-hole mouth.”

he kept coming closer to you but you kept backing up. thud! you hit your head and backed into a corner, that was his fucking plan.

holding his hand out, he reached out to your face.

“jong suk.” you recognized the mans low voice

“..niki.” the scum turns around, “long time no see?”

as your childhood bestfriend drags your lowlife ex out the store, you dialed the police. you reported jong suk to the police after you accidentally stumbled upon his attic.

(flashback) — 10:37 am, monday

he always told you that the attic door was locked shut and that he couldn’t budge it in, you didnt think anything of it until you heard footsteps above his room. you gathered some tools you thought would help you open the door and waited till he went to work. jong suk worked a 9-5 job so you had plenty of time to try and open the attic.

it turns out it wasn’t that hard to open it, just needed s lil unscrewing and 20 minutes!

you opened the “abandoned attic” filled with pictures and information of girls your age. it was startling to know this side of your beloved jong suk.

you cautiously entered and wandered around the triangular room looking for clues on what the hell he made the room into.

what a fucking creep. —

you heard footsteps heading towards the bedroom, it seems like you lost track of time and stayed longer than you expected. you patted your pockets to look for your phone but it’s nowhere to be found, “oh my fucking god, i left it in the bedroom.” you run your hands thru your hair and scrunch it.

you carefully walked over, avoiding any creaking noises, to the computer near the erotic pictures of women, you felt disgusted.

time : 1:29 pm

wait, what the fuck.. why’s he home so early ? you started at the main screen Nd found a folder named ‘Huh Yun-jin.’

you were frightened by everything. the pictures, the folders, the information, and especially your boyfriend. You stood up and [bang!] knocked over a cup of pencils, you didn’t notice that it was there. the footsteps got louder and louder until it reached the attic door, you need to find a way to escape this psycho.

you looked around and found nothing but a window, your only exit. the attic door opened, jong suk grabbed your foot weakly and you managed to kick him down the ladder. you ran to the window and jumped, adrenaline was pumping throughout your veins, you didnt feel anything.

you ran to the nearest station and reported him for the criminal harassment of multiple women.

(which is like 3/4 years of prison idk 😣)

( end of flashback ☺️☺️ ) — 2:47 pm

“are you okay?” niki came back to comfort you

“yeah, but he just got my face dirty!!” you complained while looking at a mirror, “i just did my skin care + a mask and now he ruined ittt..” you say, sulking.

“bro.” he snickered, “just tell your millionaire boyfriend to take you to get a facial or something.”

he took your phone and dialed ‘soon to be malewife’ ; “what the hell is that contact name, noona..”

“hello?” even through the phone, jeongin’s voice was like an angels.

“hyung, your gf wants to go to a salon and do a facial.”

“yahh!! i never said that, he’s lying!” you snatch the phone out of niki’s hands.

jeongin giggles, “ill get you anything you want, just ask, okay?”

your jaw fell to the FLOOORRR. “im going to kiss u so bad, kys” niki cringed at your response.

“i love you too, what snacks u got so far?”

“oh.. abt that..” you both told him what happened (and who the guy is, duhh)

“what a fucking creep, i hope his balls slowly get eaten by a dog.” you and niki giggle at his response, “anyway, where do you guys wanna eat?? ill get you two food.”

(what a gentleman😢😢)

no hate to my bae jong suk 😢😢

<- || m.list || ->

[violetvelourr]

Ok so yesterday I had a huge scare.

It actually started a week ago when one of my artworks crashed, resulting in its loss. I posted about this a bit earlier…

I ‘recovered’ the artwork to the extent possible by doing the most absurd thing ever… it’s not ideal, but only I know exactly how much worse it got 🥲

So as I was working on this Frankenstein, I noticed that Procreate was lagging a little. I’ve been noticing similar behavior for a while and specifically before procreate crashed, but thought it might be just me overusing it and the device needing a reboot to reset the RAM.

Then something else happened: when I exited the artwork to check something in the gallery, I couldn’t open this very artwork again. Procreate just crashed every time while trying to load the artwork. But after it was flattened it wasn’t exactly my biggest artwork, I had around 20 layers (as opposed to 75+).

I wanted to turn on the screen recorder to share my continued mishap with this artwork because it just wasn’t funny anymore. Problems again and again this poor artwork… And theeeeen iPad finally admitted it didn’t have enough storage space to make the recording 🤯 until then - no complaints about space whatsoever.

Naturally upon seeing this, I decided to free up space. But the iPad was lagging as much as ever... So I decided to reboot it, since I still thought it was slow because of the general overload of its RAM.

When I rebooted it… it wouldn’t turn back on. It was just stuck on the Apple logo screen and kept restarting, going into the logo screen and restarted again.

I was surprised how calm I was 🙈 I guess it might have been due to my nervous breakdown on Monday at work… true horror of the realization came later, when it was alright again (spoiler).

So I tried hard reset and anything else that google suggested.

But my concern was that most likely this situation was due to the storage space shortage.

The only thing I had left to try was (1) get it to drain its battery completely then try to charge it and see if it turns on, and (2) wait till I get home and do the “connect to computer with iTunes and update it”.

The first one could work, but the second - if there wasn’t enough space, I doubted it would be able to update (and what would the update fix anyways?).

But I had to try.

So I just let it keep rebooting while I was busy getting through my working hours. I was already looking forward to my day ruined - I was going to review gym that day and then to get manicure. And I already imagined my being nervous the whole time… and then getting home at 11 pm and staying late into the night trying to revive it… and what if it doesn’t work?.. I tried my best not to panic…

So I checked it occasionally just to see that it was still rebooting and the battery was still alive. And then suddenly 3 hours later I discovered Kakashi smiling at me from the lock screen! 🙈 it was back alive!!!

I still don’t know wtf happened. There was only one time while I was rebooting it when it loaded up to the lock screen, upon which I rushed excitedly and tried to unlock it with the password, but then it blinked purple and went into rebooting mode again!

So this time I was super cautious and slow. No haste movements 🙈 And it indeed was back and I was able to get in and begin freeing up storage 😮‍💨

Oh by the way now it keeps notifying me that it needs specie even though I’ve already cleaned it up significantly… 🤦🏼‍♀️ very timely…

So… moral of the story: don’t allow this to happen. Check the available storage space and when you have 1-2% left - do take the time to free up space.

Not to mention backing up your device. I have trouble backing up mine, like for some reason the backup process can literally last a day, and since I need to have the iPad around me at all times (even if I don’t use it) I can’t just leave it for a day 🙈🙈🙈 so usually I put that off until the very last chance, like a mandatory backup before I go traveling… the last time was in February before I went to Mexico. You can imagine how much I could have lost 😖

Anyways… don’t repeat my mistakes… be wise 🙈

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1993 From what I now gather, Tom isn’t having sex with me till I get my pap smear results back and go to the GYN. I really doubt I’m infected. I also doubt things will change with that even if all my tests and appointments come up negative, but what can I do?

I fell asleep around 11 AM and got up at 6 PM.

Earlier Tom and I watched The Guardian. Boy, is he different than most guys. I asked him if watching me and another woman would turn him on and he said no.

Later…

Tom and I had a great night. He says, though, he’s not afraid I’ll give him anything if we have sex. He’s afraid to aggravate anything till I’ve had my appointments. He believes, like I do, that I’ll be fine.

After we watched the movie, he told me how he really liked this teddy bear I drew, among other things. I’m making drawings of things for him like flowers, ballet slippers, cats, and other stuff for computer programs. I finally got to scan in my best drawings. They look so cool. I’m sending two envelopes to Tammy, each with 7 pieces of paper in it. Each has 1-4 pictures.

I told Andy about my bastard brother. He was shocked.

I called Kim and she too, hasn’t heard from Bob. She agrees that something could very well be wrong. She says she’ll drive by his place in Turners Falls on Monday, her day off.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1993 I fell asleep around 10 AM and awoke at 3 PM. Tom was in a great mood. He left shortly after I woke up to go work on his brother’s computer.

I watched that movie and Jenny Seagrove was hot.

I fell back asleep around 9 PM and woke up about two hours later. Tom was working on the computer. Still in a great mood and very affectionate. Between his affection and the woman in the movie, I was so horny. I lay there slightly annoyed with him waiting for him to go to bed. I told him I had to relieve myself and after I did, I had no hard feelings. Hey, you can’t help your feelings. This guy just doesn’t desire me sexually. I don’t turn him on and he never cums anyway. The times he went down on me were cuz I asked him to. Before, I was hurt by all this, but I know you can’t help your feelings and I can take care of myself.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1993 After I last copied in all my entry dates for each journal, I got sicker than a dog all night. I couldn’t stop sneezing and I had a fever. I fell asleep yesterday at 2:30 AM and awoke at 4:15 AM.

Before getting sick I spoke to Andy and did some redecorating.

Today there was a message to call my doctor for my GYN approval. I’ll call either today or Monday. I want to make sure I’m over this cold. At least I’ve had one flu and two colds since I came here and not 1000 of each.

Well now, if moving here to Arizona, becoming a dancer, and having a relationship (with a male), and living in that person’s house are the most shocking things throughout these journals - here’s another. I called Tammy yesterday morning and she tells me Larry’s been at Mom and Dad’s! This surely blew me off my feet. Tammy doesn’t know much to tell, other than he called them last Friday and has been with them for 3-4 days. I guess he was in the area. She said something about owning a truck and something about computers. He’s still with Sandy, living in Agawam and I guess he still has two kids, Larry Jr. and Jennifer. Who knows what the hell is going on, but he is only 38-39 years old. Not 43.

Tammy said they only spoke for two minutes. She reminded him that she and I were also victims of Mom and Dad and that we never did anything to him. He said maybe he’d call her. Whatever, but I wish for no contact with my parents or Larry. Having no contact with them isn’t what I want, it’s what I need. It’s too late and there’s no hope of ever having a positive relationship with these people. These people are never gonna take me at face value and have brainwashed themselves and others with too much bullshit about me. They have their own minds made up about me, and Larry will only judge me by my past. I don’t need to explain or defend myself to either of them as they’ll never buy anything I say if it’s not what they want to hear. They twist my words. Tammy did defend me all on her own about one thing, though. Dad bitched about my moving so much. Tammy said, “So what? It didn’t affect you or cost you any money. She’s been self-sufficient and has money in the bank.”

In other news, last night on Unsolved Mysteries they profiled the Lisa Zeighert case in Agawam. Tammy saw it, too. She was working in a gift shop when someone came and raped her and then dumped her in the woods.

Later…

I just pulled out every single bookmark I had in all my journals. When I lived in S Deerfield, Kim had given me these tiny colored ribbons which I taped in. The bookmarks were a pain in the ass, so I removed them. I also had a few regular ones with tassels hanging from them. These I kept. I put them on my desk out in the back room. This way if I continue typing journals, I can keep my page with these.

Except for 3 days when the people next door moved in and had extra company in that trailer, they’ve been very quiet. They don’t wake me up and I hope this is how it stays. The soundproofing stuff Tom put in helps a great deal. I am very glad he put it in. Imagine how great it’ll be when it’s complete. He still is planning on spraying the gaps with something that dries up to be Styrofoam.

Andy’s gonna shit when I tell him about Larry. In a way, I think he should have just stayed away, let dead dogs lay, and not come around after all these years.

Yesterday I fell asleep at about 9 AM and slept until 7 PM. I sure needed to, but I awoke with a hell of a nightmare. Well, in a couple of days, I’m supposed to be off my probation. I sent in my last report form yesterday. In my dream, it was only around June or July of ‘93. Tom wasn’t in the dream at all. I supposedly violated my probation and was ordered to return to MA. By whom and how - I don’t know. Some guy (I don’t know who) was helping me pack. I pulled out an old pair of gloves. He said it was a good thing I kept them, cuz I’d need them back east. The situation obviously hadn’t hit me. I can remember thinking to myself how there had to be a way to solve this problem, clear up the mistake, and stay here in PHX. I thought of calling my parents for help but still refused to talk to them.

The next thing I knew I was in some large, bright, crowded room. People gathered around a big TV where some show was discussing people on probation from other states. It was mentioning what we all did wrong. When I was mentioned, it named all these people I was supposed to have burned and that I was ordered back to MA. I think even Stacey was there. I walked a few steps away and there was Andy. I asked if he saw the thing on me on TV. He said no. I asked him to “foresee” if and when I’d return. He said August 31st. I assumed he meant of ‘93 and I was relieved, but then he shook his head and said, “Of ‘94.”

Panic ripped through me as the realization of losing this weather, my gorgeous apartment (guess I was still single), palm trees and cactuses were unbearable. Then I woke up.

Later…

Tom got home at 7:20 and things have been going great with us. At 7:00 I got a great idea. I said I’d like to tell him and that if he didn’t agree, I’d compromise somehow. I suggested staying committed, but if we were to ever marry - shoot for one year from now. Perhaps December of ‘94. This will give us both the time to get over any fears and doubts. This way he can see that I won’t be violent or anything like that. And I can see that he’ll love me unconditionally. Occasionally telling me to put off something is fine, but here’s an example. He tells me I can be with him and be a singer. (big time or small) I believe him and take him at face value, but if I can ever get my damn foot in the door and I see him keep his word, I’ll be even more of a believer. Here’s another example. He’s never said to choose between him and being friends with Andy. With each passing month, I believe he won’t change that. He agreed.

I called my doctor’s office. My test results haven’t come back yet, but I’ll be called either way. My referral is being mailed to me.

Speaking of mail, I never get any anymore. It’s good, yet funny and weird and different not getting and paying bills in my name. No letters from Bob since the 15th. I hope nothing’s wrong.

I took a Pre-Sym pill for water gain, bloating and other PMS symptoms. At least I’m not a bitch. I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to see that movie tonight. It’ll be on in 9 hours.

I found a way to use my perfume without it bothering me. I sprayed it inside the back cover of this book.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1993 I just checked Prodigy and still no message from Tammy. She must be very busy. I’ll need to call her soon to see how she’s been and to tell her my not-so-good news.

My pap didn’t go so well yesterday. She is almost sure that the discharges are normal for me and she couldn’t see any apparent infections. The bad and baffling news is that my cervix is inflamed and also that there’s scarring right inside the opening. No other GYNs have told me this before and half of them say I’m of average size down there and the others agree I’m too small. Tom and I know there’s no chance of him getting inside there without my being made bigger by surgery. He accepts this and this is no problem for him, but there are times when I just wish I could function sexually as most women that are with guys do. The doctor says it’s unusual to be as small as I am and she doesn’t know why I am. She doesn’t know if it’s due to the DES.

As for the scarring, well, there’s Tom’s idea about it and then there are mine and the doctor’s. The doctor says it’s probably the times when I tried to “get Tom in there.” She says it doesn’t take much and even though it was only 3 weeks ago that we last tried, scarring can be there. I agree that this is the only possibility and no other doctor ever mentioned this before. Tom says he thinks I was molested as a kid. No way. No one in my family would’ve done this to me and it would’ve been medically evident a long time ago. He even was upset, saying that I was blaming him and protecting someone. It’s no one’s fault and I am not protecting anyone. If anyone ever did anything to me, I’m sure I’d be fully aware of it, it’d be medically evident, and I’d also speak up about it. I wouldn’t feel ashamed or guilty, cuz it wouldn’t have been my fault.

I just wish there was some way to make me bigger and less sensitive. The exam wasn’t painful, but it was very uncomfortable. Thank God I don’t want kids, cuz how would I conceive or even have them?

I’m waiting for the office to call me with the name of a specialist GYN. I hope, though, that there’s a problem with my insurance approving it, cuz I really don’t want to go. I’m tired of one thing after another and it’s really hard for me to believe this isn’t a punishment. After I have sex, with a guy or a girl, there’s some problem. What have I done to deserve this? I haven’t been on the phone or in any other trouble. I just want to be healthy and function normally sexually. I hope nothing’s wrong if I do go to a GYN.

Other than all this bullshit, things have been very good.

Thank God my parents still haven’t tried to call. But last night there was a hang-up call and I know it was ma. I could tell by the mannerism in which she hung up the phone. I’ve had enough phone fights with her to know how she hangs up on me. She was definitely frustrated and angry. My good pitch also helps me.

I’m gonna hold off a little longer on writing about the great idea Andy came up with till we discuss it more.

Not much else is going on. I think I’ve covered all the big stuff.

The weather’s hanging in the 80s here and the 30s to upper 40s back east. Fran called his local weather line and I called mine. When he heard it he said, “You bitch!”

Can’t wait until Friday night. A movie called The Guardian will be on and it’s got this hot English lady in it. I’m gonna tape her, alright.

I may or may not still get a binder the size of my journals to type in. I’d put blank note pages in it for if I’m out somewhere. I’m not sure I’m gonna continue copying my journals. Typing and printing them, I mean. Perhaps I will when I’m totally bored with nothing better to do. I will very soon begin editing for sure.

Kim, Phil and Alex oughta be home now. I hope Alex writes to me and that they all send some pictures. I can only imagine the look on Alex’s face when he read my letter. Kim too, as I sent her a copy of the letter I sent Alex, although Alex will probably show it to her.

I’m gonna write to Kim, Alex, Fran, Nervous and Bob. Speaking of Bob, what the hell’s going on with him? To not get a letter from him in two weeks is weird. Or almost two weeks. I think the last letter I got from him came on the 15th, so yes, it’s just about two weeks. I’ll send a letter bugging him and begging him to write and I’m sure he will. I hope nothing’s wrong and I wish he could get out here and be done with his court case.

In half an hour, the movie I taped will be over, so I’ll do a letter till then.

Fran and Nerv got my topless pictures.

Later…

I thought I was gonna fall asleep, but I guess not.

I just cut my index fingernail and already I must do so again. It digs into my thumb when I write. My nails and hair grow very fast.

Tom came in at 7:30 and we chatted for about 20 minutes. He’s gone to sleep now. I may not be awake till after he’s gone to work.

I told him if he’s ever in for a boring night at work, he can take along and read my book of letters.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1993 55 more minutes to go and it’ll be my 6th year journaling anniversary! I began my first journal 6 years ago. But this was back east, and it’s already the 27th there. There’s no time in my very first entry, as it took me a while to get organized. I know it was sometime during the afternoon.

Fran called at around 9:30 PM my time and we talked for about 45 minutes.

Before I woke up, that girl Andy works with left a message about cutting my hair. She didn’t leave a number, so I hope she calls back.

Things are still going great with Tom, but I’ll write more later.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1993 Today was a very nice day. Tom wasn’t home when I awoke, but we talked when he got home. We also talked late last night after I wrote my last entry.

I’ll only cover a few things now as tomorrow I have to go to my doctor’s. That’ll be a 2-hour deal, so I’ll remember to bring this book to pass time. The waiting time is ridiculous.

I now have that soft bed I like. I still want a soft foam double bed, but for now, I can make do. My twin bed has always been too hard, so I pulled out the foam mattress from my couch bed. Tom cut it to fit the top of my bed and it’s so much more comfortable.

We also played a few games of Crazy 8’s.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1993 I’m kind of depressed at the moment. It’s not like something’s happened to make me feel this way, but I guess I’m still struggling with the pros and cons of both staying and leaving here. I’m beginning to feel empty even when we don’t fight, and we haven’t for a week. I’m gonna miss never having one-nighters with women twice a year or so. I’ve come to accept this a long time ago and know I can’t be with women whether I tried to or not. It’s just not meant to be. I’m just not accepted by them and you know I’ve had no luck with the bars or placing ads. And when I would, it was only once a year or two.

Not having sex with Tom is no problem for me now. I’ve gotten used to it and I’m not gonna keep begging. It seems that 9 out of 10 good days when he’s in a good mood and well-rested he still never approaches me. The 10 times or so we’ve done it, I’m the one who started it. He only started it a couple of times and this was only after I told him it wasn’t fair if it were always me to start it. I’ve come to accept and do without and am now even a bit turned off by the idea. I think I’d refuse if he hit on me for sex. I’m also not gonna be easy. I’m gonna play hard to get. Yes, it’s my turn now to play hard to get. Only question is, will I get the chance? I doubt it. I think we’re now strictly platonic.

Here’s a list of the pros and cons of leaving/staying.

Pros of staying:

Happy and fun times with Tom Living in a house Private yard and pool Can blast music all the time Use the computer Save money Dancing’s not a must Transportation when needed The easiest place to sleep No neighbors attached below, above, or next door EC is healthier His VCR and couch are nicer Have washer/dryer Cons of staying:

The stress of when we fight Difficult compromises Not being able to have a yearly or bi-yearly one-nighter with a woman Missing our good times Dealing with the barking dogs Dealing with an older place (especially the kitchen), no dishwasher or garbage disposal No year-round heated spa or pool Accidentally leaving stuff around that I wish him not to see, like letters Fear of him deciding not to help me move and throwing my stuff out (although I doubt this) Pros of leaving:

No stress of any fights No difficult compromises Can have one-nighters with women My own place to decorate with all my stuff only No fear of him seeing personal stuff, like letters Modern place with dishwasher and garbage disposal Heated pool and spa year-round Fewer dogs barking Cons of leaving:

Probably couldn’t sleep Couldn’t blast music at all hours Connected neighbors Probably many more kids screaming Probably no washer/dryer in apartment Weekly early-morning lawnmowers and blowers No transportation Must always dance Probably less extra money My VCR and couch sucks No EC No computer No private yard and pool Dealing with overall apartment living Well, it looks like I oughta give it more time here according to those 4 lists. I know a lot of the stuff was materialistic, but that is a part of it, too.

Andy was over for a couple of hours. We both typed up a letter to Fran, then played about 6 games of Crazy 8’s, then he typed a letter to his cousin while I watched TV.

I have yet to write about his great idea, but I will when I get in the mood.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1993 Before I get backed up once again, I’m gonna mention today and then cover that 3-day fight.

Today was a good day, but I feel like I have a cold. I’ve been feeling this way for nearly a week.

Tom gave me some floppy disk labels that I’m using to cover the holes in my cassette tapes. It’s better than regular scotch tape. So, I spent a couple of hours reorganizing all my tapes and making their labels look a lot nicer. I’ve made them more understandable too, in a sense. Beside the number of each tape, I put either the letter E, M, or C (E-edits, M-music, C-convos). I still have to make Gloria’s medley as I said a few years ago.

I didn’t really do anything else today, so I guess I’ll get on with the fight. Well, let’s just say I was within inches of moving out. Again, let me first stress that there was no violence or anything like that. No one ever hurt anyone’s stuff either. We’re not like that.

It began the last night that my company stayed here. As I said, Tom knew damn well that they were. As I went to open the front door I noticed it was double-locked and I couldn’t get my key into the bottom lock. Alex used a credit card to pry open the laundry room door which was locked too, and I had left Tom a memo to please open it. When Alex got in he was able to go through the garage and open the front door.

I was fuming, and more so when I got Tom’s message on the voicemail. He said to let him know when he could have “his” house back, as he felt sick and tired and couldn’t sleep with the company there. He said he was gonna stay elsewhere (he wouldn’t say where not that I care).

I admit I jumped the gun on the lock issue but I wasn’t buying anything else we talked about when I called him at work. I called him at work as I was so mad and couldn’t wait. He insisted my key works both locks which he later proved to me. So there I was wrong and I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. He said he didn’t see the memo cuz he didn’t have time. That one I don’t buy, as he was busy with a million things that had nothing to do with me, so that wasn’t my fault.

So I told him they’d be leaving at noon on the 15th and he told me I needed to get another place to live. I was so pissed, cuz he knew this was coming, and I swore at him and hung up.

So when he came home after they left, I insisted that I couldn’t believe we woke him up when he’s slept through a lot of other noise. I believe he was jealous and felt left out cuz he had to work.

I asked him if he dumps all his girlfriends as soon as he has a beef with them and he said that I was dumping him. Well, it wasn’t me who thought of moving out. He brought it up first. Then he went on and on saying that whether I did this intentionally or not, I was killing him and abusing him. This really pissed me off and he said that I must truly feel guilty or else I wouldn’t be pissed or hurt. I explained to him the reason why I was pissed and hurt was cuz these words were coming from someone that’s supposed to love me and care for me and know me and my intentions a whole lot better. My mother, for example, said some pretty vicious things about me as a kid which wasn’t true and it hurt like hell as this was coming from my own mother. I also was fed up with him going back on his word. He said that he’d never suggest I move out. That fights and disagreements were part of relationships and that you stick together when you love someone and try to work it out.

Then he said he couldn’t remember any good times, I wasn’t helpful, and was using him. He did take that back, as we all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry. I have always paid my fair share and I do a lot of helpful things around the house that save him time. We also have had plenty of good times, as I wouldn’t have moved in here if we hadn’t.

So we agreed to make a list of things, as I won’t have him (or anyone) deny things I know I or they said. I also hate those that go back on their word without legit reasons. He’s gone back on his word about it being up to me whether or not to go back to dancing. He says that due to the risks being higher of me doing my type of work, he can’t handle the additional stress. This is cuz if he had to leave his job if I got hurt, he’d be fired. Shit can happen to anyone anywhere although his fears are acceptable and understandable. He fears me taking cabs. I’ve been lucky to have regular drivers, but you do never know and most cabbies carry guns. Of course, I’d prefer for him to take me to and from work if he could. Like if we worked at home. I’d also prefer to make money by working on the computer than by getting sore feet and having to give too much of my money away to the DJ, bouncers and bartenders, as much as I do love to dance. I’m sick of being used by the bar’s owners to support other employees.

So, he told me he can’t stop me from dancing as I’m an adult and he’s not my daddy, but that if I loved him enough, I’d have to move out if I wanted to dance. I still feel that a person should stand by the one they love no matter what they choose to do unless it’s illegal or harming people. But then he says it’s just as easy for him to say if I loved him enough, I wouldn’t put him under that kind of stress and worry. I guess I see it two ways. His way and mine both make sense. He said that if he’s working at home or has a different job, things may be different as far as that goes.

Well, I can’t say I’ll be here forever, but right now I still do want us to work out and learn to communicate better. I do admit I have my faults too and can sometimes jump the gun defensively. I also come from another part of the country and some of our words mean different things to one another. Just like Spanish words and signs vary in different areas. He told me I was attractive and gorgeous. I thought these words meant the same, but he relates attractive to the inside of a person and gorgeous to the outside. I’ve always considered them both to mean the outside of a person.

So, for now, the dancing and how long I’m here are up in the air. I certainly hope it all can be worked out somehow as I don’t want to have to give him up any more than I’d want to give my sister up just cuz I have a dream. I want to have my cake and eat it too.

How’s my dream tied into this? Well, Andy has an idea for him and Donna and me. If we decide to put the idea into action, then I’ll need to make more money by dancing. That’d mean moving out too. I hope it doesn’t come down to this, but Tom insists I should go for my dream. I want to do this with him, though, and I hope there’ll be a way to make any extra money I’ll need in a way we both can agree on and deal with. Only time will tell this. I’ll write about Andy’s idea another time, which I think is a great one and probably is the only chance the 3 of us are ever gonna have at this day and time.

The reason why I took offense to Tom’s saying my house is cuz for a while there I felt like I was living with him in his house, not our house. I don’t legally want my name on this house, but I want it to be our house in both of our hearts.

When things get really bad between a couple, it’s good to involve someone you can trust. So, Tammy, who has lots of experience was a great help to me. Again, she knows I’d never call her if we couldn’t agree on a movie or something of that petty nature.

There are a bunch of other little things here and there, but I forgot them.

Oh, here’s one. Tom saw me put a picture of Kim and I hugging into my photo album. Later he said he had doubts and wondered if I fooled around. Yeah, right! I think I know why he said this. Cuz at first I asked him about him and Wendy. I don’t believe they ever fool around, but if they ever do - more power to them. It’s their bodies and their lives.

I don’t think Tom would ever be a bad father in the way I’d be a bad mom, but it’s a good thing there’ll never be any kids. I really don’t think he could handle the lack of sleep any more than I could. I told him this and he said if he knew it was coming he could be prepared for it. Right. He knew my company was coming.

He mentioned getting his hair cut and that Wendy could do it, but said that I won’t let her come over. I never said that. Hell, I’d be her friend as long as she didn’t try to pit one of us against the other.

So, this is what we agreed on… No overnight company. Our friends can come over (even though he doesn’t allow his over), but only if one of us isn’t here or is at least up for it. Meaning Andy can come over while he’s working and while he’s home as long as he’s not sick or tired. This is all very fair to me.

We’ll probably never partially or totally agree on some things, but we are trying and it has been a lot better since last Sunday.

To make it easier though, and cut down on time, Andy has some promising ads on apartments at nearby complexes. This way if I ever do leave, I’ll have some apartment ideas, rather than be like - where do I begin?

When I told Andy I was leaving when we both thought I would (mainly him), he was unhappy for me. He shocked me by saying he was hoping I was gonna tell him we were getting married. I wish I wanted to as much as I was once starting to, but in truth, I don’t. We still have doubts and need to learn more so we can flourish together. The flame’s burned out for me, too, although I’m sure that’d happen even if I lusted for him sexually the way I have with some women.

A couple of days ago we were out on the bench swing and he said something that really touched me. He said that he was aware he needs to change too. This was great, cuz for a while there I felt as if he was pinning it all on me.

Well, I’m gonna go grab a bite to eat and maybe edit some stuff.

Later…

This still blows my mind! It’s late October and hot out. Today is beyond warm. It’s hot, probably near the mid-90s. I just took a break to go rub-a-dub-dub this beautiful weather into Tam. She tells me it’s in the 40s there.

[mydyspraxiablog]

Having Dyspraxia can be difficulty at time it very hard to cope and sometimes when want do Engish and Math crouse we can't because level2 in Engish in Math not my level we still on kid level Bite side so what special school and Stafford college and Longton college and Cannock college done for me noughting because back of Square one.

I was hope that could do Engish crouse on Stoke on trent college but mum said no it be up Hanley won't be able find Stoke on trent college but mum said no and she won't help me with email to Stoke on trent keep ingone me " No crouse running till September " " She want going Stafford library do art crouse with her havn't got choice. It upset me living with parant lost your independence .

Now active like do in Stafford in dancing not ball room dance not street dance bit like Aerobic dance bit more fun going Prue gym do the dance like do Zumba but can't in Wednesday waiting list there.

So as noughting for Dyspraxia do in Stafford on Monday I watch this Morning and lose women and listern Amazon music dance 💃 in living room.

Tuesday like doing computer and art.

Wednesday going to Penkridge Market buy cheep food and clothes as Stafford won't have Stafford Market so now local Market in Lichfield and Penkridge or Stone Market.

Now want talk about stupid rules put can't use bus pass till 930am or 10am stupid rule if got crouse up Newcastle-under-Lyme college it 9am Engish crouse won't be able go if do Engish crouse at Stafford college it evening and no buses in everning so far active I want do be 10am or 6pm and no bus serrive in evening so can't prove imposed my self because cut back . Do want going back Rising broke cafe church and going back to College but can't at movements.

It don't want use bus pass will want use but there isn't any Stafford for adult do or children or ternage because no shops no poundland noughting for use do just pub and cafe Victoria Park use be beautiful Park but now it just spoil it feel why live in Stafford?

Rats posion cats and birds get bird flu and cat 🐈 cath become ill end up paid lot money for put cats down Annabel was £300 and Sydnee was £400 really missing them badly.If could get back I wonder 🤔 I was worry when hear Vet Island moving because Darcy my broader terrier dog in Vet little garden. I wonder what going do dog and cat under ground felt won't rest in peace.

Missing Darcy ,Annabel and Sydnee really miss my cats badly.

Mum don't want animals at movements I want hamster and Ginerapig but see those dogs and cat want home want adopt them but mum said no at why want move with Animals just having living support mean no animals at is wrong.

Books like read is Chalet school I was join Friendship of chalet school again this year but mum said no. So have missing out fun there I love suger mouse but mum won't buy them she going mad if buy chocolates or suger mouse. I missing them. I got addict to Gluten free cake love Gluten free chocolate cake 🎂 and Gluten free lemon driz cake so trying do Gluten free Bannaba cakes 🎂 or loof.

Really can't going shopping in Stafford Town because mum won't let use Natwest card thanks Natwest is sneek bank at why want moving the do another bank but isn't alwon.

Google email vshaw3554@gmail.com going put with mum Google want paid extra for mum using my email but said no not paid any extra for Google that why lost vshaw2222@gmail.com that was recovered account for vshaw3554@gmail.com but mum won't paid for anything she want be free that why can't play Sims 4 at movements so play sims 3.

Enjoy photos only Sims 3 can't play is Sims3 supernatural like fairies in that game but won't work from origin to EA play really miss it that game and miss Sims 4 too.

[ironicscavenger]

Simblr Community Challenge by @amelettes

Literally no one tagged me in this, but I’m bored out of my mind, so what the hell.

How long have you been playing the Sims?

Goodness, I don’t actually know. I played the first one, but I don’t even remember when that was. Sims 2 hadn’t come out yet, that’s for sure. I also don’t know where it came from. It was just installed in one of my dad’s office computers and I found it (I assume one of my cousins put it there since we used it as a communal computer lol).

How long have you been a Simblr, and why did you become one?

I’ve answered this before, actually. But here goes… I’ve been on/off since around 2015. But this blog specifically was created in 2017 to keep track of CC and stories I liked, and in September I actually started posting.

What type of Simblr are you?

Mostly storytelling, with a bit of gameplay and the occasional mediocre edit.

Which generation of Sims do you primarily play?

Sims 4. Look, I love Sims 3. Gameplay wise, it’s still the far superior choice. But it’s been spoiled for me by the ts4 graphics and CAS sliders that allow you to do whatever you want with your sim. So I stick with it. Also, since I’m a storytelling blog, 4 it is far easier to handle for me.

Anyway, not tagging anyone, but whoever wants to do, consider yourself tagged.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ scenario: you meet roy harper for the first time

♡ pairing: roy harper ( arsenal ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / look, finally a fic that doesn't have anything to do with the Super family LMAOOO. i was listening to fun by coldplay and tove lo while writing this fic so it kinda goes based off that song in a way.

you were a successful adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne. you went to college, graduated, got a job in your fathers company, and helped with vigilante work on the side. not to toot your own horn but although you had the privilege of your dad being the Bruce Wayne, you were living a lot more comfortably than people your age.

"coming down to the manor for brunch tomorrow? your brothers are attending it," Bruce asked he put a few things away into his bag. you nodded excitedly, "I'm actually crashing at your place tonight. don't really feel like going home and having to drive all the back up to uptown Gotham tomorrow in the morning," you explained. Bruce shook his head before murmuring that he was heading home.

you still had a few things to put back in files before going back to the manor. you really didn't want to have to do it first thing Monday morning so you walked back to your office, blaring some music in your headphones while you got the filing done. this was the first weekend in what felt like years that all of your siblings were attending brunch. someone was always missing and that usually happened to be Jason. your favorite brother.

"what're we doing here again?" Roy asked Jason as the two of them walked inside of Wayne Enterprises. Jason rolled his eyes, "I have to talk to the bat about something and I don't wanna wait till tomorrow."

Jason walked right in, not bothering to even get an ID checked as the front workers knew all of the Wayne kids by heart. he and Roy made their way to the top floor, passing yours in the process before barging inside. the office was dead silent as the only noise coming in was from the clocks in the hallways. Jason rolled his eyes before going down the hall and reaching your office.

your front door had your name on a gold plate. he always felt a bit envious that you, Tim, and even Damian already had their foot inside of the WE business. he didn't want to work a regular nine to five like all of you did but he did envy that small bit of normalcy you had. outside of the vigilante business, you were a normal person with their life together. he just always wondered why you hadn't brought anyone home yet. you did have your few share of high school boyfriends but nothing that screamed marriage or settling down.

Jason opened the door to see you singing into your phone as you put files into a manila folder. Roy had never met his best friends sister. sure he had heard stories about you from Jason but there was no face to the stories. the two of them chuckled at the way you were dancing as you still hadn't realized that you were being watched.

"ahem!" Jason practically screamed. you felt yourself jump at least fifty feet in the air as you heard the clearing of someones throat. you whipped your head around and nearly felt yourself want to punch Jason for scaring you that way, "fuck you, Todd. at least knock before scaring the shit out of me," you yelled, a few of your coworkers pulling their head inside of your office to make sure their bosses daughter was okay.

you turned to Roy and smiled, "oh, nice to meet you Roy," you said, pulling your hand out for him to shake. Roy's eyebrows fluttered in confusion as he wondered how you knew him, "it's my job to know who my brothers are friends with plus, my dad doesn't really know how to keep his computers closed," you added on.

"speaking of your dad, where's Bruce?" he asked. you jiggled your car keys, "on his way home. I had to stay back to put back a few files but he should be home by now if you wanted to talk to him," you explained. Jason nodded as Roy pulled his head out of the clouds, "so, why is it that this is the first time I'm meeting you?" Roy asked, placing himself in front of your brother.

you giggled, "I work in the vigilante business but I don't actually fight. why? do you think I'm cute or something?" you asked, not really caring that you were full on flirting with Roy. Jason stared at you and Roy with absolute disgust, "if you're going to flirt with my sister and vice versa, at least have the common decency to do it while I'm not here," he said through fake gags.

Jason grabbed Roy by the hair and dragged him out of the office, "see you tomorrow at brunch," you waved bye to Roy who tried to pull himself back to the office to say goodbye but Jason quickly pulled him away from the door again to make sure that he didn't have to hear your flirting with Roy.

the night crawled in as you had made it inside of the manor and up to your childhood bedroom. you were a bit disappointed to see that Roy hadn't shown up with Jason when he finally arrived. you had heard of his past from Bruce. his fight with addiction and the situation with his daughter Lian. you knew Roy had it rough but that didn't take away from his looks or his seemingly funny personality.

you were playing on your phone, scrolling through Jason's social media to see if maybe Roy had some kind of account somewhere but much to your dismay, you couldn't find any trace of Roy on any app. that was until you heard a tapping of rocks at your door. you grabbed one of Damian's katanas's and braced yourself to fight.

"Roy?" you whisper-yelled as you saw the familiar red hair. he gave you the shit eating grin as he motioned you to come down, "are you insane? I'll kill myself if I jump," you exclaimed. he waved you off, "not if I catch you! I felt like your brother was cock blocking us today," he replied. you couldn't help but laugh. it had been years since you've snuck away but thankfully, Alfred had kept the small ladder next to your room so you could crawl back inside when you were done talking with Roy.

you pulled yourself onto the ledge of the window before jumping down. you felt the embrace of Roy's arms on your upper body as he laughed, "told ya I'd catch you!" he said as he placed you back on the ground. you shook your head dismissively, "well, you got me down so what're your plans with me?" you asked, realizing that it was colder than you had expected.

"Wayne Manor has a Burger King near here so I'm figuring like midnight food run?" he asked, shaking his wallet. you agreed as the two of you walked away and jumping the Wayne Manor fence. "Jason would kill you if he knew you snuck me out of my house," you laughed as Roy shrugged, "Jason wants to kill me for something every week, what else is new."

you knew the Burger King was a bit farther down the road but with Roy keeping the conversation light hearted and playful, it felt like only a few mere minutes. "so, what did you mean by you working in the vigilante business but not actually fighting?" Roy asked. "I help Bruce and Damian locations and coordinates when they're on patrol. I'll even help Dick and Tim when they need it," you explained.

Roy nodded, a bit disappointed that you hardly worked with Jason. he could get used to seeing you around. maybe even settling his crazy ass down if you could. "do you think you'd ever work with the Outlaws?" he asked, playing with his fingers. you shrugged, "Jason never asks for my help. he claims he doesn't want his favorite sister being tainted with the gruesome work y'all do," Roy couldn't help but agree. the work Jason and the Outlaws did was a lot different compared to what Batman and his Gotham family did and he doubted that you have seen any kind of bloodshed the way they have.

"I guess your brother maybe has a point," Roy responded as the two of you saw the huge Burger King sign coming your way. for knowing Roy for only a few hours, the two of you got along great, "not really. it's not like I haven't seen bloodshed before. seeing your parents getting shot in the head really traumatizes someone," you half joked. Roy stared at you, mortified, "okay...maybe Jaybird doesn't haven't a point," he tried to say without sounding insensitive.

you both entered the building and quickly ordered piles of food, much to the dismay of the workers. you figured since no one was inside of the building, you could eat inside rather than on the sidewalk. after you got handed the food, you and Roy sat at the table farthest from the workers and dug into it, "if I had known Jay had a very cute sister, I would have stopped by a long time ago," Roy joked.

"I mean, what's stopping you now?" you playfully said, giving the red head a wink.

the following morning, you had the pleasure of being waken up to Damian and Tim arguing from his bedroom as you tried to catch even a few more minutes of sleep. you didn't get back inside of your room until the crack of dawn and had told Roy to crash in your room for the night but he ultimately refused, saying he'd try to catch you tomorrow or even Monday after your shift ended.

Roy hadn't had a night like that in what felt like forever. he had constant karma with bullshit hitting him left and right and for the first time, being with you felt like nothing was wrong. the last time he had felt true happiness like this was when he finally had Lian. his only problem was that he felt like he didn't deserve you.

you had your life together, you weren't constantly running from the police, and that was something Roy wasn't but he couldn't shake you off.

"why the fuck did you get in so late?" Jason asked Roy as he could see the small under bags beneath his eyes. Roy bit his lip, not replying as he texted you back, "on a date," was all he managed to murmur before going back to his room. Jason gave his friend a look, shrugging him off before going to his cycle.

by the time he arrived, you were dragging yourself down the stairs, your eyes locked on your phone as Alfred set everything down on the table. "what's so entertaining?" Dick asked, peering over your phone to see who it was you were texting. before you could even try and cover it, Dick stared at you, surprised, "really? HIM?" he exclaimed, catching everyone's attention.

"wait, who?" Tim asked, suddenly interested. you instantly tackled Dick down as Cass took the chance to grab your phone. you pushed Dick off and ran towards Cass who then handed the phone to Damian, "don't you dare say a word you gremlin," you threatened, trying to snatch your phone. Damian gave you a smirk as he cleared his throat, "it's the one and only Roy Harper!" he yelled.

Cass and Steph stared at you, shock written across their face as Dick, Tim, and even Bruce stared at Jason right away. if you were properly trained enough, you would have grabbed Damian by his stubby legs and dragged him away but much to your dismay, you weren't, "no wonder Roy wouldn't stop looking at his phone this morning," Jason replied. you tried to hide your face as they all questioned you over brunch but nothing stopped them. even Alfred tried wrangling them in a few times but they couldn't fathom that the token Wayne sister was dating someone far out his league.

Roy on the other hand shrugged in relief. at least that beat having to tell Jason later on. all he feared was having to face Jason later today but you had messaged him, telling him you were heading back to your apartment after brunch if he wanted to stop by for dinner.

as you were getting ready to leave, Jason saw the way you were constantly laughing down at your phone. he had no idea that Roy had that much of an affect in such a little time that the two of you were together but maybe it was a good thing that Jason didn't know about the little hangout you and Roy went on last night. it would save you a lot of time than having to explain it to them.

you got out of your dads house, screaming to him that you'd see him on Monday as Jason followed behind you, "were you ever going to tell me?" he asked as he watched you get into your car. you smiled, a bit nervously, "I wasn't but Roy was," with that, you quickly started your car as you left a very uninterested Jason in the parking lot. you figured that if you and Roy got farther into a friendship that turned into a relationship, you'd make him do the talking to everyone.

Roy was waiting outside of your apartment building, in absolute awe of the place that you called home. he was holding a few grocery bags, claiming he wanted to help you out with making food but you knew that Roy did not look like the type to know how to cook...at all. it made you wonder how he even did it with Lian when she got hungry or if they just constantly went out to eat.

"so was your brother mad?" Roy asked, as he stared at your very lavish apartment. you shrugged, "not really? he was just surprised that we got along so well for the few minutes we were around each other," Roy laughed, "so you didn't tell him about last night?" he asked, playing with your hand softly.

"he'd murder you then me if he found out you snuck me out last night," he agreed knowing that Kori would probably have to be the one to break up the fight if Jason found out his favorite sister snuck out to meet his best friend, "well, what he won't know won't kill him," you winked as you headed towards the kitchen to start on a few preparations for dinner.

Jason had the gut feeling that since Roy wasn't home, he had probably snuck away early enough to make it to your place before he got home. Jason didn't mind the fact that you were seeing Roy, a part of him was glad that he met someone that could keep him grounded but that didn't mean that he was going to let Roy go off easy. hell, you were still his little sister.

"really? you snuck all of us out to see if Roy was with ( your name )," Damian asked as Dick agreed. Jason shushed them as he took out his binoculars. he just wanted to confirm his feeling before leaving, "he's with her," Jason murmured, seeing the way you and Roy were sitting down on your couch, laughing about something as Roy was holding you onto his side.

Dick and Damian stayed quiet as they watched Jason continue to peek into your apartment. they had no idea what he was thinking but they knew he wasn't as mad as they thought he would've been. maybe this wasn't a bad thing after all?

[holylulusworld]

Under construction

Title: Under construction

Summary: The construction worker has set his eyes on you.

Square filled for @spnquotebingo​​​​​​​: “Well, boo hoo! I ’m sorry your feelings are hurt, princess.” – SPN

Word Count: 2,1 k

Pairing: Construction Worker!Dean Winchester x Spoiled!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: language, teasing, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, restraints (cable tie), degrading, creampie, breeding kink, overuse of the petname ‘princess’, mentions of arranged marriage, a hint of dubcon?, Doggystyle

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

“Daddy, for how long must I bear that stinking and dirty bastards’ presence,” you groan when the man your father hired to build a new winter garden steps inside the house. Sweat runs down his face and you shudder when he takes off his shirt to wipe his face with the fabric.

“He will stay as long as we will need his strength. His father and brother will join him on Monday. He did a great job so far. Be grateful a hard-working man spends his time close to you, a spoiled brat.”

“Daddy,” you cry when Dean steps closer to talk to your father. He ignores you once again, only looks at your father before he speaks up.

“Sir, I prepared everything. The seating looks good, but I will need my family's help on Monday. I will check on the plans and talk to my father before checking on the pool. I can tell you about pricing and ideas next week,” Dean explains.

“Good job, Mr. Winchester,” your father praises the half-naked man, ignoring your cross your arms over your chest. “I will be out of town for the next week, but you won’t need my help. You have permission to take care of my winter garden and the pool.”

“I’ll do my very best Mr. Y/L/N,” Dean nods at your father, smirking when you impatiently tap your foot. “It’s an honor to work for you.”

“Don’t underestimate your value. Your father and his family own—” you groan, nudging your father’s side. 

“Dad, can we focus on my engagement party now? You said the guy you want me to marry will join us in two weeks to talk about the wedding,” you whine, wanting to get your father’s attention. “We only let that man build the winter garden for the wedding.”

“Princess, I want you to go shopping and leave the important things to me and Mr. Winchester,” your father hands you his credit card, frowning when you don’t take it out of his hands.

“You wanted me to marry a guy I do not even know and now you act as if the wedding means nothing to you,” turning on your heels you storm out of the room, slamming the door shut tightly behind you.

“There you are,” Dean grunts, waving his hand in front of your face. “Your father wanted the new plans, but I can’t reach him. Can you mail the plans to him for me?”

“Why would I do such a thing, construction boy,” you twirl your sunglasses, smirking up at Dean. “I have better things to do than helping the help out.”

“I bet you have,” he returns your smirk, leaning closer to let you admire the freckles on his face. “Be a good girl and just do as I said, princess.”

“You’re not my dad,” you sneer, giving him a cold glare. “If you want to talk to him, call daddy or wait till he comes back.”

“Listen, I got no time for your games,” Dean slowly loses his patience. “Give me his e-mail address and I can send him the plans myself if you are not able to handle a computer.”

“I can handle anything, including computers, I just don’t want to, Mr. Construction,” you twirl around to walk out of the room. “Just stay out of my sight while dad is not around. He gave you more attention than me and my wedding.”

“Maybe if you weren’t a spoiled brat all the time your father would give you more attention. Hell, since day one you were nagging over the tiniest things. Even your eggs were too fluffy,” looking over your shoulder you narrow your eyes.

“What are you, a fucking creep? Did you spy on me, pervert?” shocked you look at Dean, searching his face. “I hope you didn’t put a camera into my bedroom.”

“I can see nothing interesting to spy on,” he chuckles when you storm out of the room once again. “There she goes. Fucking spoiled brat. Someone should teach her a lesson one day…”

“No problem at all, Sir. I will mail you the plans and the pricing. A pleasure doing business with you,” while he talks to your father Dean watches you lean over the pool table.

The two triangles of fabric on top barely cover your breasts, and the two almost non-existent triangles of fabric covering your ass leave little to nothing to his imagination.

“Just play the good boy for my daddy,” you grasp for the cue, ready to hit the white ball when you feel his hands on you. “What the fuck—”

“You know, that’s a great idea,” he kicks your legs apart while holding you down by your shoulders. Before you can blink he restraints your wrists with a cable tie behind your back. “Look at you, wearing only that flimsy piece of clothing.”

“Let go of me, you sick bastard,” heart thundering in your chest you hear Dean shift behind you. He crouches down to move his hands over your legs, tickling your skin. “I’m warning you. Daddy will kill you.”

“He won’t do shit, princess,” his hand roughly slaps your ass and to your shame, you get off on his rough treatment. “Wish I could fuck this tight little cunt of yours, but I’m not a perv.” He muses, sliding his fingertips up to your thighs. “Such a shame. My cock would make you sing for me.”

“I bet you can’t even get it up,” you challenge the angry man behind you, smirking to yourself when he leans closer to sniff at your pussy. “Smell this? That’s a grand pussy you are too afraid to taste.”

“Princess, I would taste it anytime and anywhere if I wanted to,” you can’t see the smirk on his lips when you whimper at his words. “I just don’t fuck boring spoiled girls.”

“I’m not boring,” pushing your ass into his face you try to prove a point. “Fuck me and you’ll see I’m more than you bargained for.”

“Self-confident much, sweetheart,” he puts his hands on your cheeks to spread them. “Let me see,” his face back against your pussy he bumps his nose against your clit, ignites a spark you’ve missed for so long. “You’re a wet little slut for me. What if I just shove my cock inside your cunt? What will you do?”

You bite your lip, holding your breath when he hooks his finger into the elastic of your bikini bottoms to rip the fabric down your body. “Hey, that was expensive,” you mutter, hating you are dripping for the cocky construction worker.

“Expensive, like your pussy,” he slaps your pussy lips, smirking when a tiny whimper leaves your lips. “No guy ever fucked you right, huh? You are a spoiled little brat but can’t tell a man how to fuck you right.”

“I had orgasms,” you protest. “Many—”

“You did?” two fingers brush over your clit, make your jolt at the sudden touch. “You are not even used to someone touching your pussy. All you had was your vibrator, princess.”

“I-I had guys before you,” muttering you, slowly grind against his fingers, hoping he will give you more than a few pinches to your clit. “Maybe they even had a bigger dick.”

“I doubt that Y/N,” weakly lifting your head you try to see what Dean is up to but your wrists are still retrained behind your back and you can’t lift your upper body. “Let’s see how well you can take me, shall we?”

“Do you want to talk about fucking me or do it, Winchester?” it’s the first time you used his name, and Dean smirks, knowing he is close to breaking you. “I can’t lie here all day. A girl got other things to do.”

You feel his presence behind you before you feel his hands on your ass. “Be good or you won’t get anything. I could just walk out of the room and leave you like this,” you can hear him unbuckle his belt and pulling his zipper. His pants drop to his ankles, and you can barely hold back the moan when his heavy cock slaps against your ass.

“I knew it, a small dick but a big mouth,” sometimes you just can’t stop running your mouth.

“I wanted to go easy on you but now,” his cock head pokes your entrance, and this time, you let out a choked moan feeling Dean push inside. “I bet you never had a dirty dick like mine in your pussy, princess,” he thrusts hard, ruins you once for all when he splits you open.

“Fuck—” you keen, praying your father doesn’t come home earlier only to find you stuffed with the construction worker’s dick. “Oh—shit.”

“That’s a good pussy, you were right,” he taunts you, giving you shallow thrusts to test the water. “I will so fucking ruin you for that rich dude you want to marry. He will know I pushed my working-class cock inside your spoiled pussy.”

“I’m not spoiled,” you try to push back onto Dean to get any kind of fiction, but he grips your hips to keep you in place.

“Well, boo hoo! I’m sorry your feelings are hurt, princess,” he starts to slam his hips into your ass. The force of his thrusts pushes you into the pool table. You can already feel the bruises form, but that’s a problem you will focus on later—after you came around his cock. “I’m not the nice guy taking you out but the one fucking you best.”

“Prove it,” all you can do is to lie on the pool table and take his punishing pace. Dean doesn’t hold back. He hammers into you; makes you cry out anytime he hits that sweet spot making you squirm in his hold. 

“Fuck, I wish I had a camera to tape you to remember you took my dick like a whore,” Dean gives you a particularly hard thrust, making you yelp at the deep penetration. “Take it, princess. You will never get a perfect dick like mine again.”

You’d love to talk back, call him names, or slap his face but a desperate wail and the slick sound of your pussy sucking him in is your only response. “Please—”

“Do you want to cum?” he purrs now, hands gripping you even tighter. “Yeah, I think you want to cream my dick. When you do, I’ll fill you up so good, give you a baby. Do you think your nameless fiancé will like raising my child?”

“Ah—fuck—you can’t,” your body gives in, succumbs to Dean when he rubs his cockhead over your g-spot again. “I’m gonna cum—”

“Cum for me princess so I can shoot my load into your pussy, make you round with my spawn. I will show everyone you let me fuck you good,” Dean roars through his orgasm, ignores you cry out his name or that you clench hard around him. He only focuses on his release and getting all of his cum inside of you. “Perfect.”

“This—this,” you panic when Dean pulls out and you feel his cum run down your thighs, “never happened. Take off the cable tie and lemme shower.”

“Slow down, Y/N,” Dean runs his hands over your back to soothe and calm you. “You need to take a deep breath. I will remove the cable tie and help you into the shower. You are safe with me.”

“I know that I’m safe with you, but I just fucked you, Winchester! My father wants me to marry that guy and I let you fuck me. What if you got me pregnant?”

“Oh, I will take you with me and fuck you on every pool table coming to our path…”

The days after your escapade or rather sex-capade with Dean were awkward. You avoided the cocky construction worker at all costs while hiding in your room.

“Princess, it’s time to meet him and his family,” your father smiles when you refuse to get out of the limousine at first. “Come, they won’t bite.”

“Coming, daddy,” God, you hate you must meet the guy your father wants you to marry. He gave you choice; told you nothing is decided yet, still, you feel like you betrayed your father and your possible husband. “I’m ready.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” your father holds out his arm to lead you toward the restaurant. “They are good people, hard-working and not all business, just how I like it.”

“Okay,” you follow your father inside the restaurant, holding your breath when Dean walks toward you and your father. “Crap.”

“Mr. Y/L/N, great you made it,” the cocky bastard smirks at you, giving you a wink before he offers his arm to you. “What do you say, do you want to join me and my family for dinner?”

“Dinner? Family?” confused you glance at the table. Two men wave at your father. The eldest calls your father’s name, already making his way toward you.

“OH, didn’t your father tell you I’m the guy he wants you to marry?” Dean casually says and your jaw drops… 

Tags in reblog.

[reidandweep]

Stitching

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Much like Adam Driver, I have been a huge fan of Matthew Gray Gubler and criminal minds for years. With quarantine, I decided to re-watch the show from the beginning and I had some inspiration. My writing tends to take a while but if you have any requests or idea for Spencer Reid, please send them my way.

Word Count- 6286 words

Warning- Angst, mentions of violence and torture, fluff, tears, and the usual criminal minds details.

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? -William Shakespeare.

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

“Good morning my lover and friends. As of 8:45 am, yesterday morning, four bodies have been found across the Washington State area. Locations confirmed to be Pomeroy, Baker City, Salem, and Mill Creek. All victims were very similar in physical appearance; Caucasian, red hair, brown eyes, approximately 5ft 4’.”

Garcia swiped her tablet to display family photographs of the victims on the screen. The team watched, in the debriefing room, as they scanned through their own tablets; reading through the details. Spencer’s eyes flittered over the images as his fingers scanned across the words in his paper file; still adamant on not working with technology like the rest of his team.

“What about the cause of death? How were they found?”

Garcia shivered at Rossi’s question.

“It’s not a pretty image. Each victim was dismembered at the elbows, knees, neck, and stomach. Further cuts were made vertically down the stomach and across the face, arms, and legs. Not deep enough to cut through bone, but deep enough to bleed out. Where the unsub cut our victims, he then sewed them back together.”

Emily looked up at Garcia.

“Are you saying the lacerations were made before the victim’s died?”

“Precisely. Each autopsy report came back the same with the cause of death pointing to the direction of blood loss; specifically, from the throat.”

The team looked at the new images before them. Multiple pictures appeared on the screen, showing the bodies of the victims. The pictures showing the women laid out in the same pose, thick thread holding together the pieces of their corpses. All had their eyes closed, except one.

“Garcia, the last victim, zoom into her face.”

Garcia did as Spencer asked.

“Her eyes are closed.”

Spencer nodded, glancing towards JJ as she spoke.

“Meaning that he felt remorse for this murder.”

Derek scrolled through the pictures on his tablet.

“The other three victim’s eyes are open, indicating that he wanted them to look. To watch what he was doing, whatever it may have been.”

Spencer looked across the table at the questioning faces.

“So, what changed between the third and the fourth victim?”

Hotch stood from his seat, indicating the others to grab their belonging.

“We can discuss further on jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

WASHINGTON STATE

Being greeted by the local police department in Clagstone, Spencer and the team began their investigation into the murders. Spencer did not know what it was, but the stitching on the bodies felt familiar. Like he had seen them before.

Looking up from his files, Spencer watched as Derek walked into the room, ending a call with who he could only presume to be Garcia.

“Garcia has just completed background checks on our latest victim. Lily Trent visited local film screenings at the Southview Centre religiously, to watch horror movies in particular. Seems like the girl loved anything horror and Halloween; according to her roommate and her computer history. It seems that are other victims did also.”

Spencer stood from his seat and walked towards the whiteboard at the back of the room. Writing down the details Derek stated, his brain began to filter through the relevant information needed.

“Halloween is ranked the ninth most celebrated holiday in the world. With different interpretations of the holiday occurring according to country and culture. Wearing costumes at Halloween did not even become an occurrence until 1585, with the first instance recorded in Scotland.”

Derek chuckled at Reid’s excitement. He knew the boy loved Halloween.

“Well it all looks like they were pretty huge fans of the holiday and horror films. Maybe our unsub was too.”

Spencer looked down at the photos in his hand, scanning his memory for any correlation.

“Maybe, it’s not just horror, but a particular film. If all the victims were presented in a certain way, maybe the unsub is trying to replicate what happened to a character in a particular film.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll call Garcia to search through all the victims search history to see if any particular horror films come up in each one. Do you know of any films that the unsub could have replicated?”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can collate his actions to hundreds of films but, the method of torture and look of the victims, I can’t think of one horror feature that pinpoints all that the unsub has done.”

A thought unexpectedly popped into Spencer’s mind. Derek cocked his head at the sudden halt from the resident genius.

“But I know someone who might.”

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON

“The importance of genre in film alters many of the other aspects. The characters and their narrative arcs, the music score, cinematography, the edit, and so much more. Sometimes genre even dictates the director who signs onto the project. Dennis Dugan would not have a directing career if Adam Sandler stopped making comedy movies. Because that is what he directs. He doesn’t direct comedies; he directs Adam Sandler comedies. Which, in my opinion, are a whole genre on their own.”

The class chuckled.

“Genre plays a part in everyday life. Sometimes, your day will be led by romance, or grief, or action. There may be drama, or comedy, or even silence.”

The class looked on in concentration as Y/N walked across the floor. If someone who did not attend the college walked past the classroom, they could’ve presumed that she was a student. She looked young enough.

“It controls the way the characters talk, act, and move. How the plot thickens and pushes forward and…”

The doors at the back of the auditorium opened. Y/N looked up at the sound of the intrusion to see figures that she could not recognise, and one that she did.

Clearing her throat, she continued.

“And how it even ends. We shall leave it at that today. What I want you to do in the meantime is research a genre in particular and come up with examples that counteract the stereotypes that have been enforced upon the genre itself. Hand it in to your professor first thing Monday morning. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the students collected their things and filtered out of the room. The figures waiting till she was only left before they walked down the steps.

Coming to a stop in front of her desk, Y/N crossed her arms and waited. Spencer stepped forward with a crooked smile on his face.

“Hi Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Long time no see stranger.”

Spencer’s cheeks burned at Y/N’s words. The team shared looks between them at the unfamiliar display. They had seen Spencer blush at people before, but not for a long time.

Spencer cleared his throat, preparing himself to act professional.

“This is Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N. Y/N travels across the country to guest speak at different universities on her topic at hand. She specialises in film studies, more importantly the focus of characters and genres. If I can’t connect the unsub’s actions to a film, Y/N most definitely can.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s praise.

“Nice to meet you all. So, what are you here to talk to me about Doc? Obviously, you’re here on a case and if you are asking for my help, I’m guessing it’s going to be pretty gruesome.”

Spencer blushed at the nickname; caught off guard by the word slipping of her tongue.

Sending a raised look towards Reid, Hotch began to explain why they were there.

“Were looking into a case of connected murders. All victims were found to have been mutilated and tortured in the same way. As well as showing resemblances in their physical appearances. With research, we’ve found that each victim was particularly fond of horror films and Halloween. We would just like for you to take a look and see if you could recognise if the ways in which they were harmed stemmed from a film in particular.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“Of course, anything to help.”

She reached for the files from Spencer’s hands, ignoring the tablet pushed in her direction by JJ.

“Sorry, I prefer to use paper. I only really use technology for my lectures or to watch films if they cannot be purchased in physical form.”

Derek smirked, shooting looks to his team, as his eyes landed on Spencer. He never thought he would meet a technophobe like Reid.

Y/N scanned through the pictures and documents, looking in detail at the lacerations at hand. She identified the similarities between the victims, as her mind swirled through the images and characters from the films, she knew held similarities.

“What were the names of all the victims?”

Emily looked towards the woman.

“That information is classified.”

Y/N did not blink at her abrasiveness.

“Were any of them called Sally?”

The team looked perplexed at her question.

“No. Why that name in particular?”

Y/N continued to scan the pages as Rossi questioned her.

“Because the unsub isn’t replicating anything from a horror movie. The unsub is replicating the physical appearance and staging of a character from an animated movie. A Disney one to be more specific.”

A light bulb flickered in Spencer’s mind as he stared at Y/N in realisation. The hair colours. The stitches. It made sense now.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

LOCAL POLICE DEPARTMENT

“The Nightmare Before Christmas is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical Halloween-Christmas fantasy film directed by Henry Selick and produced and conceived by Tim Burton. It became a cult classic during the early 2000s with orchestral concerts occurring every year to celebrate the spectacle of the film.”

Spencer indicated for JJ to change the monitor as he and Y/N stood in front of the team to explain the information.

“Originally, the story began as a poem written by Tim Burton. Both narratives follow the protagonist, Jack Skellington, into his journey to Christmastown, and how he tries to make Christmas his own. The character in question that your unsub is replicating is the love interest of our protagonist. Created by Dr Finkelstein, Sally is a ragdoll-esque character whose body is covered with stitches to keep her together. The form in which all the women were found is identical to this scene in the movie.”

The screen changes to show the scene in question; paused at the precise moment to prover her point.

“All red haired, all Caucasian, all eerily the same. The stitches are exactly the same and the pose in which they are in the pictures are also.”

“We now know which film our unsub is mimicking, but how can we produce a distinguished profile of our unsub? All we can say is that between his third and fourth victim, he suddenly began to feel remorseful of his crimes.”

Y/N looked towards Spencer, waiting for him to speak as he knew more details about the case.

“Garcia checked into the victim’s computer histories and found that all four victims attended a horror convention in the Washington state area over the course of the past month. The convention in particular runs every other weekend, focusing on different horror films to highlight. However, they always make an exception for one film; The Nightmare Before Christmas. Whilst reviewing receipts for the tickets, they were all brought through the convention’s website, which is run by its board of organisation every year. Up until recently, the board has held the same members.”

Derek tapped on his tablet to the convention’s website.

“Last month, the website released details stating that a distinguish member was no longer part of the board due to unforeseen circumstances.”

It suddenly dawned on Y/N who Derek was talking about.

“Dean Faulkner.”

Spencer whipped around towards Y/N.

All eyes laid on her as her breath increased.

“You know him?”

Y/N nodded at Hotch.

“I guest spoke at a panel with him a few years back at a separate university. We were both there, amongst others, to talk about the works of a genre that are expertise were in. I was there to basically provide loose ends for what they could not answer. Dean’s specialised area was horror. The whole time he spoke about what he described as the true villains of horror and of the world.”

Y/N gulped, her mouth going dry.

“Women.”

The wheels began to turn in the team’s heads.

Spencer stepped closer towards Y/N in assurance, seeing that her thoughts were becoming overwhelmed. He quickly stepped back after he realised what he had done.

“He went on a raging tangent about the damsel in distress and the final girl. Going on and on and on about how women are weak and would never be the last one standing if faced against the monsters in real life. How they manipulated the men and made the monsters seem worse than they truly were. The only time he spoke positively about women was when we finally calmed him down and, during a Q&A session, a student asked him who the perfect horror movie character was. He said Sally because she was forgiving and would do anything for Jack; even if that meant falling apart and being sewn back together. I tried to justify that the film does not necessarily fall into the genre of horror. But he rebutted saying that it most definitely did, because of the fact that Jack’s dream did not come true.”

The room was silent for a second, taking in the information.

Suddenly, Y/N grasped the pen from Spencer’s hands. Her finger scribbling across the whiteboard.

“I need to know the names of the victims. Get Penelope on the phone and tell me the names.”

The team shocked at her erratic movements, sat in silence.

“Do you want to capture this guy?”

Spencer licked his lips and repeated the victim’s names.

“Susanna Cole, Alice Dawes, Liberty May, and Lily Trent.”

Y/N swiftly wrote the names on the boards. Each name below the other. Underneath the last name she wrote the letter Y.

“Can you ask Penelope to track any females with the first name beginning with Y who have purchased a ticket to the next convention?”

Derek quickly began to type to her. The rest of the team looking on in disbelief.

“There were twenty-three purchases, but with cross referencing with the similarities in the other victims, one matched. Her name is Yasmine Driver.”

Y/N wrote the name on the board. Circling all the first letters of each name, it became clear there was another connection with the victims.

“Their initials spell Sally.”

Y/N nodded at JJ’s disbelief.

“Reid, when is the next convention being held?”

Spencer diverted his attention to Emily.

“Their schedule every two weeks, so that would make it… tomorrow.”

The team swiftly moved into action.

“JJ bring together the police force for a debrief. Derek and Rossi, go to the convention centre and question the board about Dean. Ask them how often he visited and if they have any knowledge of the victims visits to the convention. Spencer and Emily, contact Penelope for Faulkner’s address. Once you have visited the home, if he is there, bring him in. We’re going to try and catch him before he gets close to his goal. I will locate Yasmine and bring her to the station for safety. We don’t know how far he is going to go and what the end goal of his fantasy is. But we are going to stop him.”

The team swiftly did as they were told, leaving the room with only Spencer and Y/N behind. Just before the door shot, Hotch leaned back in.

“Thank you, Dr Y/L/N, for all your help. If possible, could you stay here with JJ and look through the documents? You know this guy more than we do, so any more information that comes to mind, please let us know.”

Y/N and Spencer watched as Hotch left the room, the door shutting behind him.

As the silence engulfed them, Y/N and Spencer were hyper aware that they were now alone and had been for the first time in weeks.

Spencer swiftly walked towards Y/N and embraced her in a tight hold. Wrapping her arms around the slender man, Y/N breathed in his scent.

“I’ve missed you.”

Y/N chuckled at Spencer’s muffled words, as his head rested on top of her own. Pulling back, Y/N slowly released Spencer, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“I’ve missed you too Doc. We can catch up later, I will be waiting right here. Now, go and save the girl.”

Spencer chuckled at her words but did as Y/N said. Throwing her a smile, Spencer quickly walked out the room, leaving Y/N behind.

Y/N sat in the room, looking over the files as the time passed, waiting to see Spencer return with the rest of the team. A knock on the door startled her from her search.

Looking up at the door, Y/N saw JJ walk into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. JJ outstretched the one hand, placing the cup in front of Y/N, as she took a seat and began to sip at her own.

“I didn’t know how many sugars you took so I estimated.”

Y/N smiled at the woman’s kindness.

“Thank you. Have you heard anything from the others?”

JJ sat up in her seat as she watched Y/N look over the documents. Her fingers moving across the pages ever so quickly. Her hand that wasn’t tapped continuously on the table in a rhythm.

“Spencer and Emily located Faulkner’s home, but it was vacant. They’re looking around the premises for clues for where he may be; as we speak. Hotch and Derek just called saying they are on their way down with Yasmine now.”

Y/N nodded at her words. Glad to hear that the girl was safe, but the main priority now would be to locate Faulkner. She wanted to truly help them, before anyone else could get hurt.

JJ grabbed her tablet and began to search through the files for any missed out information. Silence befell across the pair, until JJ could not help but ask what they had all been dying to know.

“How did you and Spencer meet?”

Y/N had been waiting for the question. She had seen the looks the team had shared throughout the day. The questioning gazes towards the pair.

“Spencer and I were both guests speaking at the University of California a few months ago. He must have finished his lecture early as he was wondering the halls when he came across the class I was teaching. I was stood on the desk, encouraging the students to do the same. Spencer thought I was a student causing trouble whilst the professor had left the room. He ran in sprouting facts about the percentage of people who fall and severely hurt themselves whilst standing on tables. Telling me that I should get down before he reports me to my professor.”

JJ chuckled at Y/N’s story.

“Sounds like Spence alright.”

Y/N giggled in agreement. As she spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory of their first encounter. JJ noticed the smile on the woman’s face. She knew what that smile meant.

“So, I told him that he better stay there to catch me, just in case I fell, as I was trying to teach my students about the importance of character actions, and how doing something as simple as standing on a desk can amplify the tone of the scene. Like in the film Dead Poet’s Society. Spencer finally realised that I was also a guest speaker and he actually stood there for the next 40 minutes of my lecture. I didn’t need to stand on the desk that long, but I wanted to see if he would stay. Once the lecture had finished, he apologised for jumping to conclusions. I apologised for making him wait for 40 minutes in case I fell. He told me I didn’t make him wait; he chose to. We’ve been in contact ever since.”

Just as Y/N finished her story, the door to the conference room opened once more. Looking towards the door, Y/N watched as Hotch entered, followed by Yasmine. The young woman looked scared, but unharmed.

Y/N stood from her seat, unsure of what to do as Hotch insisted for Yasmine to take a seat.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Hotch nodded his head.

“We shouldn’t be long. The rest of the team are outside in the bullpen. You can go ahead and join them. JJ and I will take it from here.”

Y/N nodded her head, leaving the room. She watched as Hotch and JJ questioned spoke to Yasmine through the glass, before she turned and walked down the corridor to find Spencer and his friends.

Turning the corner, Y/N failed to stop herself before bumping into a tall figure. Looking up to apologise, her eyes suddenly widened at the familiar face. Before a sound could leave her lips, a blunt force knocked her out cold.

Spencer and the team discussed where Faulkner could be when Hotch strode into the bull pen.

“How did it go?”

Hotch walked towards his team, ready to answer Derek’s question.

“It seems that Faulkner had been stalking the victims for some time. Yasmine detailed seeing him turn up at the conventions, even though he was no longer allowed. She had previously complained about his behaviour to the board before his dismissal. Stating that Faulkner had sexually harassed her. Rossi, did anyone at the convention mention anything about Faulkner that we don’t know?”

“It seems that Yasmine wasn’t the only one. The other board members went into detail about why he was fired. It turned out that all of our victims, including Yasmine, had filed lawsuits against Faulkner for sexual harassment. The charges were ultimately dropped and never recorded to keep the convention’s reputation clear. But they fired Faulkner and banned him from being able to attend any further conventions. Taking away the Nightmare Before Christmas dedicated stand was just a coincidence. They felt that the convention needed something new as they had been celebrating the film for over eight years.”

Just as Hotch was about to declare what the next step would be in finding Faulkner, JJ burst through the ball pen.

“Guys, you have to come quick.”

The team, in shock, watched as JJ ran back towards the conference room. All quickly on her heels. Entering the room, she took control of the laptop, streaming the image to the projector.

Spencer could no longer breathe as he looked at the image on the screen.

“Y/N.”

The screen showed Y/N tied to a chair and bent forward; clearly in pain. Her surroundings empty and dark.

Suddenly a voice was heard.

“I sense there's something in the wind. That seems like tragedy's at hand isn’t there Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The team watched in horror as Dean Faulkner yanked Y/N’s head back, her body letting out a strangled cry at the pain caused by his actions.

Spencer felt sick, he felt like he was watching himself when Tobias Hankel had held him captive.

“Emily, call Garcia to track his location. We don’t have much time.”

Emily did as Hotch told her to. Talking as quickly as she could on the phone.

“She can’t track it; he’s re-routing the IP address every thirty seconds.”

“She needs to track it. She needs to find her now!”

They all jumped at Spencer’s outburst, watching as tears filled his vision and his hands began to shake.

“Spencer, you need to calm down, we are going to find her. He can’t have taken her far.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words. Taking a breath, he looked back at the screen as he tried to distinguish any recognisable features of where she may be.

Faulkner moved his face to rest against Y/N’s hair, smelling the tresses. She tried to pull away only for him to yank her back again.

“Why did you kill them Dean?”

Faulkner let go of Y/N’s hair. Walking to her side, he grabbed her face in a vicious grip. Yanking her to look at him.

“Why? They ruined my life, everything I ever worked hard for. You all did.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion.

“I did nothing to you.”

Y/N’s breath increased at the vicious look he sent her way. Her eyes flickered to the camera, knowing that Faulkner was streaming what was happening to Spencer and his team. She had to find a way to tell them where she was.

“You made them question my authority. My position. My integrity as a member of the board. You ruined my reputation by belittling me in California.”.

“That’s because you know nothing about horror Dean. You think you know everything about it, but you don’t.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why was Y/N taunting him?

“Garcia’s looking to see if there’s any abandoned properties around the area that he could have taken her to.”

Spencer didn’t even acknowledge Emily’s words.

Faulkner reeled back at Y/N’s taunt.

“I know everything there is to know about horror. I’ve seen it all. I’ve lived it. I’ve created it. Ask me anything about it, I know the right answers.”

“But you don’t. You have an idea of horror, your own idea, that is wrong. You believe that women are the reason you lost your job and became the monster that you are. But they’re not. The reason you’re a monster is because of your sick and twisted fantasies. You made those girls feel small and weak, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The team watched in apprehension.

“Garcia, the location, we need it now.”

Rossi looked between the screen and the phone in Derek’s hand.

“I can get the area he’s holding her, but not the specific building. The whole town is basically abandoned. She could be anywhere from a shop to a house.”

“Keep looking.”

Spencer chewed on his lips. He had to think rationally. If the unsub was upset about the changes and losing his job, what could have been the last straw?

“Derek what was the film they replaced Nightmare Before Christmas with at the convention.”

Derek and Spencer shared a look.

“Cabin in the Woods.”

Spencer ran across the rooms to the files at hand.

“In the location that Garcia has tracked her too, there are three cabins, all within a walking distance of the other.”

The team began to rush out the room, transferring the livestream to a tablet so they could monitor Faulkner and Y/N.

“You’re weak Dean. You’re just like all the horror movie villains. Ghostface, pinhead, jigsaw, all of them. You feed of fear and feeling in control. But the only thing you have in common with them is that you’re not going to win.”

Faulkner scream in rage. Pulling Y/N’s head back, he punched her in the jaw. Striding to the camera, he pushed his face to the lens.

“The party’s over!”

Spencer watched in horror as the feed went off.

“Hotch we have to hurry!”

Hotch sped up the car. Quickly arriving to the location, the team split up into pairs, taking a cabin each to inspect. Hotch and Derek, Rossi and JJ, and Spencer and Emily veered off to their targeted locations. Spencer followed Emily, trying to stay calm, as he slowly walked into the cabin to find it empty, when suddenly a gun shot was heard. Looking in the direction, the pair ran to the cabin that Derek and Hotch had been assigned. The rest of the team already there, looking into the cabin in shock.

“No, no, no, no. Y/N.”

Spencer pushed in front of them, tears pooling in his eyes as he a waited to see the horror before him. He looked in disbelief as Y/N stood from her position on the floor, the gun dropping from her hand as they shook. Faulkner laid a few feet away, in a pool of blood, no longer breathing.

Y/N looked towards the team. Raising her shaking hands towards Spencer.

“I didn’t want to kill him but he was going to shoot whoever walked through the door.”

Spencer rushed forward, grabbing her in a bone crushing hug. His hands stroking her hair as he soother her cries. Leading her out of the cabin, he allowed his team to sort out the rest as he continued to calm Y/N down.

The movement of the team were a blur as ambulances and police cars came. Taking them to the hospital as they sat in the waiting room as Y/N was checked over.

Spencer sat in the waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down with nerves.

Derek excused himself from the groups conversation as he went and sat next to Spencer. Clapping him on the back, Derek squeezed Spencer’s shoulder in re-assurance.

“She’s going to be fine pretty boy.”

“Physically, she has a concussion, bruising along her jawline, and needs stitches on her forehead. Mentally, I don’t know how she is going to handle this. When I suggested asking for her help in the case, I didn’t presume the risk of her being hurt. I should have.”

“Spencer, listen to me. We would have done everything to make sure she lived okay. She not only saved herself but she also helped save Yasmine and this team. Any one of us could have been shot if she had not thought fast and got the gun out of his hands. You know, better than anyone, how to help her deal with this.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words, nodding his head in appreciation, as he leaned against his friend in a comforting hug.

“Probably wasn’t the ideal way to introduce your girlfriend to the team though.”

Spencer stuttered at Derek’s teasing.

“We’re profilers Spencer. We’ve all noticed how you’ve been happier these past few months and seeing how persistent you were for us to consult Y/N, it gave us all an idea why. Seeing you together only confirmed our suspicions. So, how long has pretty boy had his pretty girl?”

Spencer chuckled at Derek’s words. Ringing his hands together as he spoke to Derek.

“Tomorrow is actually our six-month anniversary. She was going to be flying back today so we could celebrate; unless I got called on a case.”

“We can still celebrate.”

Spencer looked up as Y/N walked through the waiting room, fresh stitches on her forehead and an ice pack resting in her hands.

“The nurse said that there was no internal damage. That my body will just be sore for a few weeks. My concussion is light, so I am alright to travel home.”

The team gathered around to check on her. But her eyes could not leave Spencer’s as he rose from his seat. Spencer walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Carefully he cupped her face in his hands, and to the surprise of Y/N and his team, Spencer bowed his head and placed a careful kiss on Y/N’s lips. Slow, protective, and full of love.

Pulling back, Spencer wrapped his arms around her as he looked at the beaming smiles of his teammates. Y/N couldn’t help the blush across her cheeks or the giggle that followed. Soon, everyone was chuckling at the pair.

“I would like to thank you Y/N. From the entire team. Your actions saved a young woman’s life, and what could have been one of our own.”

Y/N smiled in appreciation at Rossi’s words.

“You’re Spencer’s family. I would do it all again if I had to.”

“Statistically speaking, around 2,000 people a day are reported missing in the US. Approximately, 600 of those would be reported or considered kidnappings. It is highly unlikely for you to be put in a situation like that again.”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend.

“I never thought I would say this, but your talk about me being kidnapped again is really attractive.”

The team laughed at the girl’s statement, seeing Spencer become physically embarrassed.

“Just to inform everyone, the jet will be ready to depart in forty-five minutes. As I was informed that today you would have been heading home, Y/N we have sent for your belongings to be collected; you can fly back with us.”

Spencer smiled at Hotch in gratitude, the older man knowing he would have only worried if she had flown home alone.

“Thank you, Mr Hotchner.”

Hotch let out a brief smile.

“Call me Hotch. Your part of Spencer’s life, that means your part of this family.”

BAU JET

It had been an exhausting few days for the team, and it showed, as they all were sporadically asleep throughout the jet. Silence encompassed the steel capsule, with only the sound of sleep filled breaths being heard.

Y/N laid fast asleep, with her head on Spencer’s shoulder, as the boy genius sat up wide awake. Looking down at the woman next to him, all Spencer could imagine was what could have happened if they weren’t quick enough. How many days he would have lost with her. All the things he wanted to tell her.

As though she could sense his deep thoughts, Y/N slowly awoke, rubbing her eyes as a yawn escaped her mouth. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she waited till she was fully conscious before she spoke.

“What time is it Doc?”

Spencer jostled out of his thoughts to check the watch on his wrist.

“It’s 2:36 am. You’ve been asleep for approximately 3 hours and 22 minutes.”

Y/N quickly sat up in her seat, wide awake.

Spencer turned towards her in worry, wondering what had made her so alert.

“What wrong? Are you feeling nauseous? Do you need some painkillers, as your due to have…”

Y/N grabbed Spencer’s face and placed her lips flush against his own. Their mouths moved in unison, as Spencer’s own hands moved to circle around her waist, bringing their bodies as close as they could be in the small space they had. They hadn’t kissed since the hospital, and before then it had been weeks. Spencer never realised until then, how much he truly missed her touch, her taste, her as a whole.

Coming to a point where they both lacked breathe, the pair pulled apart. Their eyes fluttering open as Y/N’s hands caressed Spencer’s face. Her one hand travelled to his hair, feeling the tresses that had grown since she had last seen him. She looked at him in a way no one had before. Spencer shared the same expression.

“Happy six-month anniversary Spencer. I love you.”

Spencer looked at Y/N in disbelief.

“Before you start spouting of facts about transference and how I am probably only saying this because you saved my life, you’re wrong. Because then I would be telling Hotch and Morgan the same thing.”

Spencer couldn’t help the watery smile that graced his face. For the second time in the past day, his eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were good.

“I’ve known I have loved you for a long time. For five months actually. I knew I loved you when we made pizza in your apartment and we ended up burning it, so we ordered one instead.”

Spencer laughed at the memory. It was the first time Spencer had initiated their make out. He had watched her cooking, in his apartment, and he had never found her more attractive than he did seeing her in his home.

“I knew that whilst you were spouting of facts about the invention of the pizza that I loved you and that I could listen to you forever. I love you Spencer.”

Spencer pulled Y/N closer to him as he rested his forehead against her own. The pair basked in each other’s presence.

“Past surveys show that men wait just 88 days to say those three little words to their partner for the first time, and 39 percent say them within the first month. Women, on the other hand, take an average 134 days. You knew after 31 days that you loved me. I knew after our first date that the way I felt when I was with you is a feeling that I could not even describe with my vast vocabulary. I knew after 8 days that the way I felt was stronger than liking you and that was a frightening thought. But its scarier to think what could have happened to you yesterday. That I could have lost you without you ever knowing. I made that mistake before. I will never make it again. I love you too.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile and giggle that overtook her. Spencer, feeling high of the serotonin that was coursing through his body, couldn’t help his laugh either. Soon the pair were a giggling mess, unaware of the team who had all begun to awaken whilst the pair were talking.

The team congregated to the back of the jet, allowing the couple to stay in their own bubble.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him truly happy.”

The group nodded at Emily’s words.

JJ smiled as she watched her best friend rattle of the possible movies that he and his girlfriend could spend their anniversary watching as she recovered. Her smile growing even wider at Y/N’s enthusiasm to watch the film’s in their original language. None of them could miss the look of adoration beaming between the pair.

“Yeah, it really has.”

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. -Lao Tzu

A/N- It isn’t the best but I really enjoyed writing this one.

[turtle-babe83]

Hey babe! Hope your good! I have an ask for u. It’s kinda big but don’t worry if u don’t wanna do it all, I’m a thirsty bitch and loving what u write, just wanted to give u options, but feel free to go with what u want. So, i’d like Mikey, who else for me, right? With... 95 (80 or 81) 53 36 23, not much eh?! Lol. I love the whole nervousness from Mikey but how he still tries to act cool, and I love the build up to him getting the guts to make a move! Anyway, I will leave this in your beautiful capable hands! Don’t rush, I will be waiting patiently 🧡🧡

It will be my pleasure @nittleboo 🧡

Warning: Language and NSFW content 😉

Mikey couldn’t quite put his finger on the moment he fell in love with you. It could’ve been the day he texted you to complain about having to miss the Knicks game due to gang activity, and you recorded the game on your dvr and ordered pizza to cheer him up. Or maybe the day you agreed to go sewer surfing through the pipes with him and laughed outrageously over getting soaked. Or maybe, it was the night you called him to come over and keep you company because your cat was sick and had to stay overnight at the vet clinic and you were too worried to sleep. You were his confidante, his partner in crime, his best friend. You shared movies, pizza and dirty jokes. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

He found himself thinking about you far too often. His brothers noticed him daydreaming even more than usual these days, and suspected they knew the reason. You, however, were completely clueless as to his growing feelings for you. Mikey was conflicted on how to handle the situation. If he kept it to himself, he didn’t risk your friendship. But it would slowly drive him crazy. If he confessed, you might reject him, and the thought of that was too painful to consider. Either way, he feared he was headed for a broken heart.

He finally reached his breaking point one warm weekend in July. It was hotter than hell outside, and muggy to boot. There had been a pipeline burst that knocked out the running water in your apartment building and it wouldn’t be fixed till Monday. You had asked to spend the weekend at the lair, and of course, the guys were gracious enough to say yes. Mikey was beside himself. Part of him was ecstatic to get to spend a whole weekend with his crush, and the other part wanted to throw up because, hello, an entire weekend trying to pretend that he wasn’t head over heels for his best friend.

When you arrived with your duffel bag, you were greeted by voices coming from all over lair. Raph lifting weights, Donnie working on the computer, and Leo practicing his katas in the dojo, exactly where you expected them to be. You frowned when you realized you hadn’t heard anything from your orange banded bestie.

“Where’s Mikey?” you looked around quickly, expecting him to jump out and try to scare you.

“Um, his room, I think,” Donnie answered, never looking away from his monitors.

You tossed your bag by the couch and made your way to your favorite turtle’s bedroom. Normally, you’d just waltz right in but today, you paused. This was the first time you had come to stay the night and, if you were being honest, you had nervous butterflies in your belly. Like the stealthy ninja he was, Mikey had managed to sneak into your heart. You had no idea if he would ever see you as anything other than his best friend. You were hoping that the close proximity this weekend would help you figure out what to do.

You raised a hand to knock on the door when it abruptly opened. Mikey blinked in surprise, then grinned broadly. He met your raised fist with his own in an odd fist bump.

“Babycakes! You’re here!”

You couldn’t help but beam back. His smiles always brightened your day.

“Hey Mikester! Are you ready for all the fun we’re going to have?!”

He giggled and you could swear that his cheeks had a touch of pink to them. He grabbed your arm and dragged you back over to the couch, where he produced two controllers and a stack of dvds.

“Games or movies first?”

“Games. I’m going to kick your scaly green ass!”

“Oh you’re on, y/n!”

Playing video games with Mikey was a very active experience. He was not above pushing his opponent and half wrestling to make them lose. An hour of gaming and horseplay later, you were sweaty and ready for a break.

“I’m hot.”

“Yes, you are.”

Your head whipped around so fast, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. Mikey chuckled nervously, “I mean, look how sweaty you are!”

You narrowed your eyes momentarily, then let it go. Mikey wasn’t flirting with you, right?

“You guys ready to eat? I got pizza!” Raph yelled from the kitchen. You knew the drill, you jumped up and raced as fast as your legs could carry you. These fellas could put it away and if you wanted any for yourself, you needed to snatch and grab quickly. Armed with a plate of pizza slices and a can of soda, you planted your butt on the center cushion of the couch. All four turtles joined you around the tv, and Donnie started a movie from the stack on the coffee table. He sat on one side of you, and as per usual, Mikey took the other spot. The movie was cheesier than the pizza but at least it was entertaining. You laughed uproariously at the commentary from Donnie and Leo, and groaned at the burping contest between Raph and Mikey. Towards the end of the movie, you glanced to your left to find a pair of baby blue eyes looking back dreamily.

“Um, can I help you? Why are you staring at me?”

You felt a slight flush and knew that your cheeks were probably pretty pink. Thank goodness it was mostly dark in here. Mikey felt panic rising at being caught staring.

“Uh, I just, um...” he babbled.

“Man, that movie sucked ass.”

Oh thank god, saved by Raph. Mikey breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Everyone started making their way to bed. Leo gave you a pillow and a blanket before bidding you good night. Mikey stood by the couch awkwardly while you went and changed into your pajamas, a tiny tank and shorts set. “You gonna tuck me in?” you joked. Mikey chuckled and made a big show of tucking the blanket around you.

“Sweet dreams Angelcakes,” he whispered as he leaned over and kissed the top of your head, surprising you both. He quickly straightened and went straight to his room without another word. As soon as he was safely hidden from your view, he collapsed on his bed. Mikey rubbed his hands over his face. He had almost blown it. You had been so absorbed in that terrible movie, he couldn’t stop looking at your beautiful face. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed had made his chest feel warm. He tugged his blanket up and stared at the ceiling. How was he supposed to sleep when you were so close? He tossed and turned for nearly an hour, when he heard his bedroom door creak open.

“Mikey? Are you awake?”

“Y/n?”

“I’m sorry if I woke you, but that couch is really lumpy and uncomfortable. Can I, um, can I sleep in here? With you?”

Mikey froze. “With me?!” he squeaked. Act cool, act cool, he chided himself. “Yeah, sure.”

He scooted over and pulled the covers back for you. You climbed in next to him and pulled the covers up to your chin. The silence was awkward for you both. Mikey felt hot and cold all at once. He was half afraid that he might throw up. You frowned in the darkness. You could feel the shift in Mikey and it worried you. Maybe you misread him earlier?

Mikey took several deep breaths. He was being ridiculous. You two were best friends, you could move past this if his feelings weren’t reciprocated, right? Either way, he was miserable trying to act like nothing has changed. It was time to suck it up and spit it out. He rolled over to his side, facing you, and braced himself for rejection.

“Hey, y/n, there’s something I need to tell you.”

You rolled towards him nervously, “You know you can tell me anything, Mike.”

“Yeah right, of course,” he rubbed his hand over his bald green head. “Look, you are....my best friend. I couldn’t stand it if that ever changed. But...dude, this is hard.....”

You placed a hand over his in encouragement and squeezed. He gulped and tried again.

“I, uh....IthinkI’minlovewithyou.” he winced, and waited for you to break his heart.

Your eyes widened and you swallowed hard. Slowly, so as not to spook him, you scooted closer and placed your hand on his cheek. You touched your forehead to his, and whispered, “I love you too, Mikey.” Then you pressed your lips so softly to his.

It felt like time had stood still for Mikey. His heart pounded faster and faster as you kissed him. His first kiss and you initiated it. You kissed him and you said YOU LOVE HIM. In an instant, you found yourself on your back with an exuberant turtle on top of you. You couldn’t help but giggle as he covered your face in kisses. You grabbed his head to hold him steady and kissed him more firmly this time, and he caught you by surprise when his mouth opened slightly and his tongue licked tentatively against your lips. You opened your mouth and moaned quietly as he wasted no time tangling his tongue with yours. His hips were settled between your thighs and the longer you made out, the more you couldn’t help but notice the impressive bulge pressing against your heat. His hand snaked under your cami and squeezed your waist, then feeling braver, he slid it just under your breast. “Can I touch you?” he breathed. At your eager nod, he cupped the mound and swiped his thumb over your puckered nipple. Pushing your top up, he nuzzled your boob, giggled at the way it jiggled, and decided he needed a taste.

“Holy fuck Mikey!” you whisper-yelled at the first strong suckle. He pulled back to swirl his rather large mutant tongue around the pert nub, then sucked it back in between his teeth for a gentle nip. Turning his head, he lavished the same attention on your other breast, while you tugged your cami the rest of the way over your head. At this, he lifted his head as he held still.

“Um, do you, you know, maybe wanna, you know...”

“This?” you purred, rolling your hips up against his obvious boner.

“YES! Uh, yeah, ya know, yep.”

You can’t help but laugh softly. This was your Mikey, innocently naughty. You raised your knees up and hooked your toes in his shorts, shoving them down. He lifted his hips to help, and you were pleasantly surprised to find he was commando. Once his shorts hit the floor, his hands went straight to your pj bottoms and grabbed the band of the shorts and your panties and pulled them both off, tossing them over his wide shoulders. He sat back on his haunches and admired what he could see of your body in the darkness.

“Hot damn, you’re gorgeous Babycakes.”

Before you could say thank you, your legs were over his shoulders and his snout was nosing at your pussy. You never thought you would experience this with him, not in a million years, and the sight of his shiny green head between your thighs caused a gush of hot liquid to drip out of your core. Mikey noticed immediately and took his fingers and spread your labia to get a closer look. “Smells fucking amazing,” he whispered as he went for his first taste. His tongue flattened against your entrance and oh so slowly swiped up to your clit. He closed his eyes and savored the flavor of your juices on his tongue. Then he attacked like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. You had to bite your fist to hold back your squeals and squeaks. It was sloppy, it was messy, and you were bucking your hips uncontrollably. Everything you would expect from your beloved Mikey.

“Fuuuuuck!” you moaned as your first climax hit with the force of a typhoon. If this was what it was like with him as an amateur, you shivered to think how good he will be with experience. He kept licking as you rode out your release, then lifted his head with a grin, shiny from your juices.

“This. Is. Awesome!”

He sat up and positioned himself at your entrance.

“Is this, you know, still okay?”

When you sat up with him, he feared that you had changed your mind. He wasn’t expecting you to grab his shoulders and push him down to the bed. When you straddled his waist, his face lit up. And when you lifted yourself over his straining cock and pushed down, he lost his breath. Damn, you thought to yourself, he’s bigger than anyone I’ve ever been with. You took your time easing down, having to take a few breaks to adjust to his size. Once he was all the way in, you began ride. Up and down at a reasonable rhythm for your first time together. Mikey felt like he had died and gone to heaven. You felt so hot and tight, milking his member, and the friction was making him see stars.

“Are you doing okay?” you asked breathlessly. It was hard to read his face in the dark, his expression was either completely blissed out, or wincing in pain.

“Per-mmm-perfect!” he managed, grabbing at your hips to guide you. He began to buck up wildly as he slammed you back down, “I’m gonna cum,” he whined.

“Go ahead, baby,” you panted. But he shook his head vigorously.

“No, you have to-fuck-you gotta cum again f-first!”

He was trying so hard to hold it back, but you felt too good and it was his first time, after all. He made an odd sound, almost like a growl, hips stuttering, then he was thrusting madly as he shot his load deep in your womb.

The only sounds in the room were your harsh breaths as he lay beneath you, chest heaving.

“Y/n. That was so fucking incredible!” his voice rose with each word and you had to shush him before he woke the rest of the lair. “Yeah, Mikey, it was.” you whispered. Everything had changed now and you couldn’t be happier.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we do that again?”

[w2beastars]

Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 18.(for real this time)

Seriously, no BS this time!

So, it is impossible to read chap 18 online atm since there is some trouble with the site where it is originally posted. But I'm in a group where I watch as people translate the series, so I can tell you about the chapter that this time is about Airdo the Lion and Ako the Rabbit.

Remember those guys?

Yep, its the two idiots who Haru met. Their relationship went… sour, after they made out and that resulted in the normally gentle Airdo attacking Ako, leaving her with big scars on her head.

But whatever happened to those two?

This chapter takes place about a year after the incident. Airdo sees a poster that says that Ako is part of a beauty contest. She has been given the nickname “The Scar-Faced Angel.” Airdo had no idea she had returned to college and that she seems to be as social as she used to be. Airdo haven’t seen her since they were in court, and he decides to go see her so he can try apologize to her and see if she is okay. This makes sense since they are at the same college, so Airdo might as well go see her instead of accidentally bumping into her which would be painfully awkward.

Airdo expects to be kicked in the groin or something… But Ako is actually happy to see him. She hugs him and says she had hoped he would go look for her since she thought it would be too much for him if she called him.

She declarers how good it is to see him loudly and she even presents him to her friends, telling them that they used to date but that Airdo gave her the scars on her head.

... Yeah, I’m smelling a fish-sandwich.

The two of them leave the tennis club’s court, confusing Ako’s friends since they find it odd she would have anything to do with the lion who almost ate her.

But not as confused as Airdo when Ako starts lecturing him. She says that his timing is bad, that he should have waited to come to see her till Monday since this day is a holiday. It is easier to start rumors on a normal school day like Monday.

Yep, Ako haven’t changed at all, she is still very fixated when it comes to her reputation. She is good at seizing an opportunity when she spots one, so she is surprised when Airdo drops by to visit her at her club but also quick to turn it into an opportunity by telling her friends first that he attacked her AND that she has to visit him to talk things out.

But here is the thing.

Why not just make a scene? Why not yell and act like she is panicking when the teen lion comes to talk to her? Airdo knows how Ako thinks, and that would be the logical thing to do for someone who is part of a beauty contest by winning “pity points” as the Scar-Faced Angel.

The two of them decides to go to Airdo’s place and get a drink.

Okay, two things about this panel.

First of all, we get some world building as we see that Mugi’s new macho image is apparently a huge success. His “handsome uncle” photo book has sold over a million copies. Nice to know his change of image actually worked and that he can hopefully inspire a new generation of more confident shiba inu dogs.

Also, its a nice touch that Airdo uses an computer screen for television. Recall my friend Lasse doing that years ago while he lived in a smaller apartment.

As they sit with each their can of beer and watch TV, Airdo realizes that I can’t recall them ever being alone in a room. Ako almost always wanted them to be outside or in a public room so people saw them together since she liked the attention she got from being in a cross-species relationship. airdo once claimed that their relationship was kinda phony, that they were just fooling around. But he sees this moment as the chance for the two of them to talk for real, to get to actually know each other better.

Buuuuut Ako is wasted. She is apparently a lightweight when it comes to drinking.

(There have been no panels of Ako actually drinking beer. Keep that in mind for what happens next.)

But as Airdo looks at the sleeping rabbit with a bit of sadness, Ako reveals to not be asleep as she accuses him of pitying her and she storms out of the room. airdo is confused, and he decides to run after her.

As the teen lion chases after his rabbit ex, Ako begins to yell that she hates her scars but that she intent to make the most out of her situation, like getting a ton of followers on twitter as the “Scar-Faced Angel” as well as writing an autobiography about her trauma. But the last thing she wants is Airdo’s pity or him feeling guilty.

And then she makes one heck of a statement.

Well... she is not wrong.

Back in chapter 119 of Beastars where we first met these two idiots, Airdo tells Ako that they don’t have a serious relationship, that he is mostly Ako’s arm-candy. And that he is okay with that. But Ako then says that she wants Airdo to take her serious, to think of her as a female first instead of a small rabbit. So they passionately kiss... And Airdo then attacks her by accident because of his predator instincts.

Airdo was the one attacking Ako. But Ako was the one who unintentionally awakened Airdo’s killer instinct by underestimating how much of a slave animals are to their nature. So in a matter of speaking, yes, she DID “make” those scars.

Seeing Ako this honest and vulnerable makes Airdo confess his true feelings for the rabbit. He tells her that he loves her and that he wants more than just being a trendy woke couple, he wants them to actually date and know each other for real.

... And then Ako does this:

Yep, Ako is not drunk at all. She played Airdo like a fiddle so he would declare his love for her.

... AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! DAMN, BITCH! XD

Airdo laughes. After all, he loves Ako for being a smartass who seizes an opportunity when she spots it. He never had any ill feelings toward Ako being “scary” and almost manipulative. Heck, you could argue that he is a bit of a “bottom” as he was okay with Ako bossing him around both in this chapter and chapter 119 of Beastars. Why should he be pissed at her for doing her thing and basically manipulating him into confessing by pretending to be drunk and hysterical?

And besides, she was most likely telling the truth. She tells Airdo that she is vain and tries to milk her unfortunate situation. And she has not shown any signs of ill feelings toward Airdo in this chapter at all, so she doesn’t blame him for what happened.

I would say that this is a win for the both of them. Paru doesn’t let us have happy endings, not without at least a couple of catches. This is as close as the rabbit and lion will get to a joyful conclusion to their little tale :)

[bffsoobin]

This Time Around

➤ idol!yeonjun x non!idol/ex!girlfriend reader ft. same reader x jungkook (mostly platonic), fluff, angst, lots of messy feelings, other txt members make appearances/are mentioned

↳ weeks after your chance reconnection with Yeonjun, you book a flight to Seoul under his encouragement. When you arrive, you’re not only overwhelmed by the lifestyle of an idol, but the new people you meet. Will you and Yeonjun be able to hold on to each other this time around?

word count: 9k

requested?: yes! (thank you for this great idea, anon)

warnings: this is largely angst. crying, arguments, swearing, feelings of betrayal and confusion, Yeonjun is kind of an ass, self-doubt (in both Yeonjun and reader), messy feelings and relationships all around, this does NOT have a happy ending so don’t go in expecting one lmao also disclaimer (?) that I a) have no idea what the BH building looks like inside b) don’t think that either Yeonjun or Jungkook would act this way...we are here to write fiction, after all.

A/N: This is a sequel to Just One Day! I won’t be making too many explicit references to the content of that fic but reading it first will help with storyline clarity! I also don’t explicitly state this but the reader in this case already knows Korean, she just has never been to the country before- it was simply easier for storytelling. I really hope y’all like this. I was very inspired by this request especially since I was in the mood to write both angst and a sequel to one of my older pieces! (also this gave me a good excuse to write about koo without feeling bad for straying from TXT content lmao) ALSO this is not proof read or edited, as usual for me :)

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“I think it’s a good idea,” Yeonjun’s voice, velvety and heavy with sleep, seeps through the speakers of your phone. You glance at the time displayed on your computer and do the mental math which proves it’s a crisp 2 am in Korea.

“Go to bed, Junnie,” you half-scold, knowing that you wish for nothing more than for him to stay on the line until he eventually falls asleep in the middle of the conversation. He sighs through the phone, and you imagine him stretching his arms above his head to eliminate the fatigue creeping through him.

“Not till you promise me you’ll come,” he counters smartly. Your stomach flips wildly at the words. It had been almost three months since you spent the day with him, and not a single day had passed where he hadn’t been on your mind. Whether you spent your time talking to him or indulging yourself in your newfound kpop guilty pleasures, Yeonjun was almost always on your mind. Staying in touch proved to be harder than expected, due to both time zones and your equally packed schedules. Since he had flown back to Korea, you’d begun your first big girl job in a serious office that required constant business attire and piled the paperwork onto you, the newest and youngest hire.

“I’d love to, but you know how it is at work. I think my boss would combust if I told him I was taking a week’s vacation.” Talking about work made your head swim, as you recalled the stack of paperwork currently residing on your bedroom desk that needed to be finished before you showed up on Monday.

“That’s exactly why you deserve a vacation, Y/N. Look, if you fly into Seoul I promise I’ll make sure you don’t think about work for a second. I know you have time to take off, so take it. Come see me.” The line was quiet for a few seconds as you pondered, weighing your options carefully.

“I miss you,” Yeonjun’s voice came through loud and clear, crumbling the last remaining bit of your resolve. You missed him too, so much more than you ever thought you would, and your heartbeat kicks into high gear at the thought of seeing him again.

“Okay, I’ll file for my week off on Monday. I’ll see you soon, Yeonjun.”

----

When you finally arrive inside of the BigHit building, suitcase in tow and a huge visitor lanyard around your neck, your hands are sweating profusely. A kind staff member had picked you up from the airport and delivered you to the practice room that Yeonjun would presumably be inside of. The walls were soundproofed well, but you could hear the faint beat of bass through the heavy door as you hesitate in pushing it open. Another staff member passes behind you and eyes you closely until recognizing the badge hanging around your neck.

Feeling awkward for hesitating in the hallway after being seen, you push on the door until it swings open in a smooth motion. The wheels of your suitcase click over the seams of the floor, and the sound would have been enough to make you cringe if it weren’t for the pounding music.

A track you don’t recognize echos through the mirrored room as none other than Choi Yeonjun stares intently back at his own dancing reflection. You catch your own reflection; arms crossed in a protective latch over your chest.

His body moves fluidly, as if he had left all of his bones waiting for him at home, and a thrill of excited anxiety crawls through your chest. He was really there, mere feet away, and you were really here in the middle of the BigHit building, achieving the dreams of fans all over the world.

The music stops and your mouth runs dry. Yeonjun’s heaving breath is the only sound in the mirrored room and you try to drive away the thought of the last time you’d heard him pant like that; sweaty and shirtless overtop of you on your rickety secondhand couch.

“You made it.” He says, impressively able to control his voice even after the exertion.

“In one piece, at least.” You say. Your arms stay wound around your body, a protective cage against his stare and his touch. He eyes you carefully and you’re suddenly concerned that your airport-chic appearance is inadequate.

“You look pretty.” He whispers, stepping close enough that his heaving chest almost touches your crossed arms. His hands, fingers calloused and rough, wind around your wrists and tug gently, giving you plenty of time to pull back. But you let him unwind your arms and pull them to your sides. His hands are large and warm and press gently into your skin, grounding you into the room and the moment and the absurdity of the fact that you’re actually here with him in Korea.

“You bleached your hair.” You offer weakly, withering underneath his attention.

“I’m not supposed to tell, but I’m getting ready for pink.” He says. Sweat drips down his temples, meeting and rolling together in tracks down to his chin. He looks just as handsome as you remember him to be months before, but it’s hard to ignore the thinned frame of his face.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” You ask, finally finding courage to string together a meaningful sentence.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Yeonjun leans into you, supporting himself on the tips of his toes until he’s dangerously close to toppling you both over. He levels a heavy, constant gaze on you, eyes drifting down to the surprised pout of your lips and sliding back to your eyes. In a second you know that he wants to kiss you, and there is nothing more you’d like than for that to happen, so you close your eyes and lean into him; feel the warmth of his breath and you can almost taste the salt of his sweat, but the kiss never comes. Instead, Yeonjun startles and drops his hands from you, takes one huge step back and immediately bends into a deep bow. 

Your back is still facing the door, but you catch a glimpse through the mirror. Jeon Jungkook stands just inside the door, dark wavy hair tied half up in a messy bun, some loose strands framing his face. He’s wearing a t-shirt and loose sweats and rubbing fatigue from his eyes, but he’s somehow even more handsome in person. Your face flushes, desperately trying not to make eye contact with him through the mirror and knowing you failed as soon as he shoots you a small, toothy smile. 

“Didn’t know you had company,” He says in lieu of a greeting as he steps just slightly closer to the two of you. 

“We were just going.” Yeonjun bows again, grabs your wrist and tugs you in a persuasive manner. 

“It’s okay, really.” Jungkook enthuses, eyes crinkling in apparent amusement at Yeonjun’s behavior and before you know it your face twists into a similar smile. It had been a long time since you’d seen Yeonjun so nervous, acting like he was attached to a live wire that kept him moving nonstop. “No need to rush out on my account.” Jungkook adds as Yeonjun tugs you again, leaving your suitcase abandoned in the spot you’d been standing. You open your mouth to protest. 

“Wait! I don’t think that...” Jungkook looks at you pointedly as he rolls the suitcase back over to the two of you. 

“Y/N.” You offer, hands sweating profusely as he passes over the luggage. 

“I don’t think that Y/N would like to leave without her suitcase.” His eyes twinkle with something like an untold joke, an anecdote he wants to share but keeps in the back of his head for later. You thank him shortly, still starstruck and nervous as Yeonjun pulls you out of the door. 

----

“I’m so sorry about that.” Yeonjun apologizes again as you arrive at a new door, this one in a whole new wing of the building that you would have gotten lost finding on your own. 

“It’s okay, Jun. I expect to run into...o-other people.” You stutter as he opens the door, facing the realization that you were probably about to meet Yeonjun’s members too. The dorm was simpler than you expected, opening up to a lightly furnished living room that looked like it had been hastily cleaned- you could see a stack of clothes had been clumsily shoved behind the couch. 

The lack of instant greetings surprises you as you follow Yeonjun blindly into the room but you don’t say anything. You kind of wish that the other four boys would come bursting out, bombard you with questions and jokes and prodding fingers as Yeonjun lets you into his room. The air is still charged from your interrupted kiss, and your fingers curl around the handle of your suitcase as you recall Jungkook’s reaction. He had clearly found it amusing, but was he more interested in teasing Yeonjun or finding out exactly who you were? 

In the moment you had found his attention comical although stressful, like a funny anecdote that Yeonjun might grumble about a few weeks later. Now, you replay it over and over again, worried that every chance interaction with another idol within the building would play out exactly the same. Maybe you weren’t quite cut out for this. Yeonjun had been speaking the whole time, rattling off words you don’t catch as he opens and closes drawers.

“-is that alright?” He asks, spinning on his socked heels to face you. You freeze, trying desperately to claw through your mind for any clues to what he’d said. Yeonjun smirks, closes in on you and raises a well-kept eyebrow. 

“What did I just ask you?” He asks, voice level and cool despite the teasing nature of the question. 

“I-I don’t know.” You admit, a blush rises on your cheeks as his smirk pulls even larger. 

“I asked...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “if you wanted to share a bed. You could always sleep on the couch, but I-”

“No, I’ll sleep with you!” You slap a hand over your mouth as Yeonjun dissolves into giggles. “I mean, I mean, I don’t mind sharing a bed.” You try desperately to break through his laughter but it’s useless, so you succumb to the same fit of giggles. Yeonjun cups your cheeks sweetly, squishing them together in earnest before leaning in the same way he had just minutes prior. Your heart stutters at the knowledge that this kiss was finally happening after three months separated. 

Your lips meet in soft, tentative passes against each other until you recall the feeling. Yeonjun is hesitant, hanging back until you surge forward, kissing him harder and wiggling your tongue between the seam of his lips until he opens them. His teeth rake your bottom lip and nibble hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste grounding you into the moment until Yeonjun pulls back, thumbs stroking the tops of your cheeks. He places another kiss to your nose, giggling against your skin as you shy away. 

A loud crash sounds from just outside the door and you jump, eyes blowing wide when the sound of overlapping voices grows closer and closer. Yeonjun tells you that the rest of the boys must be back and ushers you out of the room before you can protest. 

In the living room you’re faced with the four of them, all busying themselves with mundane tasks or scrolling through their phones until Yeonjun clears his throat. They look up simultaneously, synchronized enough that you would have laughed under a different circumstance. 

“Everyone, this is, my uh, uh, Y/N.” Yeonjun awkwardly sweeps a hand your way and you flush, feeling small as the four boys you’d watched and laughed with and admired through a screen bowed to you. 

“I really-it’s not...well, hi.” You sigh. 

----

Introductions aside, the night slides by easily until the wear of your travel catches up with you so suddenly that you slump onto the nearest body. Yeonjun shakes you awake and it’s only then that you notice the shoulder you were leaning upon belonged to Beomgyu. You apologize to the boy as soon as you can get your tongue to work properly and are soon whisked away to Yeonjun’s bedroom. The short trip awoke you to an unpleasant degree, almost feeling as if you were suddenly too aware of your surroundings. The lights were too bright, the scent of fabric softener too strong in your nose, the sound of the remaining four people in the living room too loud. And of course, the presence of Yeonjun too much to handle. 

You sit at the foot of the bed and pick at your nails while Yeonjun shuffles around the room, doing something you don’t bother to track closely. 

“Are you going to get ready for bed?” He asks shortly, not even turning to face you. You now realize that he had pulled on pajamas of his own; a too-big graphic t-shirt and a pair of worn sweatpants. Frowning, you head for your own suitcase and dig through the carefully stacked clothes until you find some suitable options. You change quickly, keeping your back to him although you can feel his heavy stare at your back. 

“Did you like them?” He asks. You sit back at the metal headboard and nod thoughtfully. His lips draw into a straight line as he settles beside you. “You and Beomgyu really...got along well.” 

“Sure, I think we all got along well.” You offer, tucking yourself underneath his newly cleaned sheets. For a moment you wonder what he was going to do about the lights overhead, but they extinguish with a press of a button on his phone. Plunged in darkness, you can’t help but feel a bit bolder, indulging in the burn of defiance within you. 

“Why? Are you jealous?” You ask. Yeonjun scoffs and you can feel the sheets pull as he flips underneath them. He says nothing but you can feel the air in the room shift. The bedding feels suffocating. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

----

When you wake, you’re uncharacteristically hot. You notice the sweat beading your neck and forehead as soon as you sit up, desperate to free yourself from the covers. You wonder if Yeonjun is suffering a similar fate, or if his body is used to the brutal heat of his bedroom. You turn to look for him, happy anxiety at the thought of seeing his sleeping form in real time brewing in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d imagined this exact moment, wondered if he scrunched his face in his sleep or if he looked serene and peaceful, wondered if he snored or spoke or sighed in his sleep. 

But all you saw was crumpled sheets and a small, bright green post-it note with bunched writing. It stuck to the bed sheets as you pulled it up, and you had to blink a few times before you finally understood the gist of the note. Yeonjun was gone, off to do his daily idol duties, and you are welcome to use their shower as none of the boys were home. You scan the note again for any sign of love or sincerity but find nothing more than cold and clinical facts, like a teacher giving instructions to a class. 

Bitterness grows in your chest as you slip into the cramped shower and cool yourself off under a trickle of water. Theoretically, you know that Yeonjun would be busy while you were here. After all, you couldn’t expect the company to let him off of all responsibility just because you were around. Your skin was growing red under the scrub of your fingers. But he could have at least run it by you last night, warned you that he would probably be gone by the time you got up and given you some idea of when he’d be back. What were you supposed to do all day? You stepped out of the shower, flinging your wet hair away from your face. You could barely make it out of this building alone, but you’d be damned if all you did was sit here and wait for him to return. If he wasn’t going to be here, you’d make your own fun.

You were unfamiliar to Seoul, but after navigating yourself out of the BigHit building you felt as if you could conquer anything. You hadn’t realized how much of the day had passed by in your slumber until you stepped into the real world. Dusk had begun to fall over the sky, painting it a hazy purple-pink in anticipation of a sunset. People and cars and buses rushed by with purpose as you stand still and baffled at the city before you. The packed street before you is a little bit intimidating, but reminded you enough of the bustle of your hometown that you took a brave step forward anyway. Crossing so quickly that you almost run into a group of teenage girls, you finally reach some kind of a destination. To be fair, you had done zero planning on sight seeing before coming, so almost every building looked like a destination to you. A particularly cute looking café seemed to manifest itself out of thin air and beckon you in with sweet drinks and sugary snacks. You order and eat greedily with the realization that this is your first real meal since being on the plane yesterday, and the waitress laughs when you tell her that as you flag her down for another piece of cake. 

The café certainly lives up to the hype you make for it, but you notice the employees begin to clean and close things down, so you leave and thank them on the way out. You finally check your phone, hoping that Yeonjun might have sent you an apology or an update, but you see nothing aside from email notifications. Emblazoned by his actions, you continue on your exploration, opening the doors to a clothing shop with so much force that other patrons cringe. Inside, you buy way too many things to fit in your suitcase before traipsing yourself-weighed down by bags- into a nearby restaurant. Something about being in Korea had elevated your appetite to an extreme level, so your stomach growls as soon as you cross over the threshold. The place is crowded, almost packed wall to wall as patrons and employees alike bustle between one another. 

The cute wooden sign reads “seat yourself” so you dodge and weave until you find a tiny table, just big enough for your party of one, hidden in a more private corner of the restaurant. An employee spots you and yells out that he’s going to go get a menu, so you content yourself with people watching in the meantime. At the table diagonal to you, you spot a woman who looks just about the same age as you. Her hair is carefully waved; a deep, shiny brown that flows just down to the top of her chest. Every feature you can spot is immaculate and it makes you feel sick. Her nails are perfectly manicured, not a single chip or hang nail in sight, while your own nailbeds are torn up and bloody as a result of nervous picking. A weird, unwelcome acidity crawls up the back of your throat and demands to be acknowledged, makes your eyes burn with envious tears as the waiter finally delivers a menu and you wonder why you can’t just look that put together and perfect. After you order you can no longer stand to look her way anymore, angry at the fact that you were so resentful of this stranger. 

Your waiter drops your food and utensils with polite haste but you aren’t nearly as hungry as you were before. Noodles and broth swirl around your spoon as the steam rises into your face, paying more attention to the bustle of the open kitchen where you spot a fun streak of vibrant pink hair. Whoever is donning it must have had it done recently. There’s a few small patches of pink dye spotting the back of their neck and it’s quite endearing to think about until you remember- Yeonjun was supposed to be dying his hair pink soon, and that tall frame and broad back look suspiciously familiar, and he still hasn’t sent you any texts, and you think that maybe he was just getting some takeout and heading back home but then he turns away from the counter and heads to your corner of the building. Your mouth goes dry, all the air still and stale in your lungs as his eyes land on yours. He looks away and then looks back again, double taking as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. As if he hadn’t been the one to invite you out to Korea, as if you hadn’t shared a bed last night. And then he moves, finally, walks away from the counter and toward your table with a tray piled with food and your heart hammers against your ribs as he walks right by and settles into the seat across from the perfect girl. She smiles wide as he unloads the food and settles in. 

There’s nothing you can do but stare and fight the sting of your eyes until your waiter comes back around, notices your untouched food and asks if you want a takeout container. You say yes loud enough for Yeonjun to hear, and you can see him flinch but you know he won’t turn around. Not in public, with all these people around. Not when he’s an idol and you’re just a normal girl- a fucking tourist- and not when Miss Perfect is giggling her perfect laugh at whatever he just said. 

The air outside is cold and it stings. Your face is wet but you don’t try to hide it. You don’t know any of these people, and they will never see you again. They probably won’t even remember that you cried on the walk home, weighed down with bags of food and clothes and the knowledge that Yeonjun was lying. 

When you return to the dorm Beomgyu, Soobin and Taehyun are hanging around the living room, watching something on the television. 

“Hey- where’s Yeonjun? He said he was going to dinner, we assumed he was meeting you.” Soobin asks, his tone cautiously trying to hide his confusion. 

“Well, I did go to dinner,” you lift up the bags on your arm, “and so did Yeonjun. At the same place.” Your voice clips and you take a moment wonder if you should go on until Beomgyu mutters a soft “oh”. 

“Well, here’s some food.” The plastic bag thuds on the coffee table. “Not hungry.”

----

You don’t know what time it is when Yeonjun decides to come back, but you have no plans of acknowledging his presence. The room is dimmed, only a bedside lamp left to keep you out of total darkness. You are perfectly content to simmer in your own anger for the night, let him feel it radiate off of your back the whole time you sleep. Until he has the audacity to ask, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You see red in the dark room. Your fingers clench into the pillow, making a victim out of the poor feathers and fabric as you contemplate throwing it at his head. His new hair looks even nicer in the low light; nearly fluorescent and falling in a perfectly styled arc around his face.

“Don’t do that. Act like you don’t know.” You spit. Yeonjun says nothing but he clears his throat awkwardly, as if he’s about to make an argument, but you beat him to it. 

“At least tell me who she is.” You try to hide the waver of your voice but it’s already there to stay. 

“She’s no one! I’m not really supposed to tell anyone about it yet, the guys don’t even know-” 

“They don’t know what? That you’re keeping two different girls in your pocket? Can’t even commit to one for a week long vacation? Jesus, Yeonjun, If you want to...cheat on me, at least wait until I’m not in the country. Fuck, I can’t even call it cheating because you don’t even want to date me! We only met up again a few months ago, and we spent one day together! And we fucked and it was nice and it was fun but what the fuck was it really? I texted you today, you know, to ask where the hell you were, and you never answered. I know that your life is busy, but a warning yesterday would have been nice.” 

“I’m not cheating on you! She’s not- she’s just, someone I- that’s not the point, Y/N! And I’m sorry I didn’t answer you, but I was really busy, and I forgot to bring it up and I’m sorry, but did you really expect me to hang around all day?” You grit your teeth to stop an annoyed screech from hopping out.

“Of course not, Yeonjun. I’m not an idiot. What I expected was some fucking communication. I traveled across the world to come see you, maybe even try to figure out what we are, and so far all I’ve done is wander around the city alone. This isn’t what I wanted to do! I’m missing a week of work for this! I didn’t come out here just to be your little plaything once you get home!” 

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Yeonjun stands up from the bed, rubbing his palms over the back of his neck. “I knew you would never understand. You can never understand how busy this lifestyle is, and I guess I was stupid for believing that you could understand, and that you wouldn’t be mad at me for having to go do my fucking job.” 

“I don’t understand? I don’t understand your life? Will you ever just admit that you only like me because you can mold me around your shit? When I’m back home you can call me at any hour that works for you, and I’ll pick up. You can bitch about your job and your friends and your company and all the pain you have but whenever I call you you’re tired or sick or just don’t feel like it. Guess fucking what Yeonjun. I’m here now. And we share a room and a bed and a city so you can’t keep me miles away and at your beck and call whenever you so well please. I’m right in front of you now, and you need to own up to your shit. You ignored me. Now you’re lying about whoever the fuck that girl was. You don’t get to be a prick just because you’re a famous idol.” Your face is hot and your hands are shaking. Sweat is beading on your forehead just like it did this morning and it makes you itch but you refuse to move a single muscle, hardened to the spot and staring Yeonjun down. You can’t even remember how the argument started, but all you know now is that you can’t stand to look at him any longer. His eyes are wide, bottom lip wobbling. Tears sting at your eyes and your nose burns and you’re ready to lay down or maybe chug a bottle of vodka. 

“I’m going to bed.” You pull the covers over you even though you’re sweltering, turn off the bedside lamp with the switch and clamp your eyes shut. 

----

Your brain never shuts off. Even when you slam your eyes shut and start counting metaphorical sheep, you’re still replaying the argument on a relentless loop. Yeonjun had left the room moments after you tucked yourself in and you had yet to hear the door creak to announce his reappearance, so it was safe to assume that he was sleeping on the couch or holed up with another one of the boys. Or maybe he went crawling back to Miss Perfect. 

The room is suffocating; heat simmers off of every surface even after you’ve thrown off the sheets and the white walls are annoying you. If you ever talk to Yeonjun again it will have to be about his piss poor decorating skills and the fact that he couldn’t even manage to hang up some pictures to break up the never ending white. Your phone says it’s just minutes shy of 2 am, but what does that really mean when you have no idea what time you laid down? Your legs move before your mind decides where you’re going, seemingly possessed by the idea of leaving the room as fast as possible. There’s just enough time to shrug on a crewneck and a pair of sneakers before you find yourself under the blinding fluorescents of the hall that remind you exactly where you are. Tall, sturdy black doors stand on both sides of you, metal accents gleaming and boasting their contents. There’s no easy way to understand the layout of the building, and you assume that’s for the protection of the idols, but it also means that you completely forget the only route you know for leaving the building.  

Had you taken a left or a right? Did you pass by the hallway next to the ladies bathroom or go down it? Had there always been a potted plant next to that office, or did all of the doors just look similar? Somehow, you find yourself back in the place you had first been delivered to when you arrived. The doors were slightly different here, some made of thick wavy glass that was vaguely transparent and others made out of the same black you had become used to. A set of three rooms with the wavy glass were right next to one another, and if your suspicions were correct they were all practice rooms, presumably empty at the lack of music. The thought of the rooms, empty and clean and sporting just enough comfortable furniture in the corner for you to sprawl out on. There was no way that sleep was going to overcome you, but at least you could feel secure in your loneliness for a few hours. 

The metal handle was cold, chilling your sweaty palm instantly, but you’re met with harsh resistance. It doesn’t budge forward no matter how hard you push downward and lean into the door. Out of anger you try one more time, grunting and digging your heels into the carpet of the hallway. 

“You need a card to get in.” A voice calls from what must just be steps behind you, and you jump embarrassingly high before turning reluctantly. Surely some poor late-shift cleaner or intern had seen you struggling with the door and decided to take pity on you before someone really saw you making a fool of yourself. You could only imagine what they were thinking- how they would go home to their pets or family or friends and laugh about the girl they saw throwing her entire weight against a locked door.

But in the split second your neurons begin to fire anew, you know that you weren’t lucky enough to be discovered by another normal member of society. On this already annoyingly unlucky night you come face to face with- once again- Jeon Jungkook. You flush immediately and pull at the hem of your shorts until they do a better job at covering your thighs. You’re still sweaty, strands of hair matted to the back of your neck and your forehead, and the fact that it’s sometime past 2 am and you’ve yelled and cried and tossed and turned and cursed everything that led you to this moment only makes you look worse.  

And, of course, even though it’s sometime past 2 am and maybe Jungkook had also been sweating and tossing and turning and cursing everything too...he still manages to look like an angel. His hair is unruly, all loose and wavy and sticking up in some places. His outfit is almost identical to what you first saw him in, but this it was black instead of gray, and his sleeves are bunched at the elbow, only affording you half a look at his lithe muscles and tattoos. His lips split in the same toothy grin as he gestures a small plastic card your way. How dare he look so handsome no matter the circumstance. He’s so much closer than he had been before, merely a foot away from you in the narrow hallway. Up this close you can see how perfect his skin is, as smooth and pore less as Yeonjun’s and Miss Perfect’s. 

“No, I don’t need it.” You dismiss his hand with a small wave, sour after reminding yourself why you were here to begin with. 

“Seems like you do?” Jungkook’s voice was oddly small too. He retracts his hand halfway, making sure you could still take it from him if you want to. 

“No, what I need is a new boyfriend.” You spit the words before your conscious can review them, before you can remember that Yeonjun isn’t your boyfriend, that he isn’t technically anything except a rekindled flame you traveled across the world for. Jungkook pulls his arm all the way back and his face softens. You know he puts the pieces together quickly and you can feel the sympathy pass through the hall.  “Nevermind. I’m sure you’re busy, or need to pass by or- yeah, sorry.” You stand aside, press against the wall and wait for him to walk away, but he stays grounded and levels his soft but deadly gaze on you. It’s an unwelcome reminder that he’s one of the most famous idols in the world and you’re standing in the middle of his company building; tired and teary.

“Did you fight? Is that why you’re wondering through our part of the building alone?” He gestures at one of the doors further down the hallway, a solid black one, and you can make out a shiny plaque with his name on it and some cute little decorations taped on the wall. 

“I’m so sorry, I can’t find my way around this place- I just couldn’t sleep so I wandered and I guess I ended up in...your part of the building.” You can feel the heat radiate off of your face as he smiles again, nose scrunching at your panic. 

“Cute.” His nose wiggles one more time before he schools his features as if the word didn’t nearly knock you on your ass. Cute. Cute! He has the audacity to stand here in the middle of the night and call you cute. “Seriously, if you need somewhere to sit down or sleep, there’s a couch in my studio, it’s clean in there, you can-”

“Oh, no! Jungkook,” you blush stupidly at using his name, “I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll just circle back to Yeonjun’s and sleep it off.” The thought makes your stomach churn, the idea of trying to fall asleep in the exact room your almost relationship fell to pieces. Surely the carpet couldn’t be too uncomfortable-

“No, please, I’m offering. You look tired, and if you fought...well, I know how awkward it can be in the morning. Come on.” He walks away before you can protest and some other worldly sense makes you follow him. You never expected to be in this position, but you also never thought that Yeonjun would disappoint you so much. Inside of the partially padded studio is a surprisingly large sofa with a charming patchwork blanket draped over the back. Jungkook stands awkwardly next to his desk and picks at his fingernails as you sit down. You sink in to the couch and instantly feel more comfortable than you have in days, the soft scent of lavender and the warm yellow lights bring you as close to relaxation as you can get. 

“I saw him with another girl.” You lose your filter again and Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “He says it wasn’t a date, but he also won’t tell me who she was, and the rest of them all thought he was with me so he’s obviously lying. We aren’t technically dating, so can I even be mad? He’s lying no matter what, and he didn’t even tell me he would be out all day or text me during it. But I also still have three more days to stick out here.” A few hot tears are slipping down your face and you can’t help but feel insecure about them. 

Jungkook says nothing of the tears but chews thoughtfully on his thumbnail. He leans his hip against his desk, intimidating and sharp yet soft and handsome and sweet for letting you stay here and spill your anger into his studio. His socked foot taps on the floor in a rhythm unknown to you, and you can’t help but wonder how many people would kill to be in your exact spot. You notice a day-by-day calendar that’s quite a few days behind on his desk, and it makes you smile until he’s moving, lowering himself to the floor just a few inches away from your feet. 

His fists clench- subtle enough that you wouldn’t even notice if the room didn’t feel so charged- and as he looks up at you, you see that a look somewhere between anger and pity paints his face. It’s embarrassing to sit here like this, so clearly under his scrutiny with nothing but your pajamas to cover you. 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook finally speaks again and shakes his head so much that a few ebony pieces of hair slip into his eyes in a near-perfect arc. You shrug. “Really, Y/N. I’m sorry. That’s an asshole move, no matter who the other girl is. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, and after all the trouble you put in to come out here and see him-he’s lucky we don’t cross paths often.” He sighs and suddenly he’s sitting next to you on the couch, the weight and heat of his body making the situation that much more real and that much more odd. You must still have unshed tears lining your eyes when you find the courage to look up at him because he frowns. “Please, don’t cry! It’s the first time I’ve ever had a girl in here, and well, it’d be pretty embarrassing if she spends the whole time crying.” 

A shit eating grin sprouts on his face as soon as he sees your lips upturn with laughter. It’s hard not to be grateful for the joke, so you laugh and thank him for trying to make you feel better. 

“And thanks again, for the place to sleep. Or, try.” You have a feeling that sleep will evade you all night, no matter how cozy the room makes you. 

“If you don’t think you’re going to sleep-” Jungkook stands suddenly and rushes over to his desk. When he gets there, he turns his wide desktop computer until it faces the couch and logs in. “Then at least watch some movies! Here,” he puts a wireless keyboard in your lap- “whatever you wanna watch, I have it all.” You hesitate for just a moment and then type in the title of one of your favorite films with seconds to spare before Jungkook throws the patchwork blanket over both of your laps. He sinks back into the couch and you follow his lead, careful to keep a good few inches of space between the two of you because holy shit, you’re sitting next to Jungkook, and holy shit he’s watching a movie with you, and holy shit he just saw you cry and he looks so handsome from the side. 

You pay more attention to Jungkook than you do the movie. It’s funny to watch someone who feels so extraordinary do something as normal as watching a movie and realize that he really is human. And the way he crinkles his nose and widens his doe-eyes makes your heart stutter with attraction and then guilt at the thought of Yeonjun, who still makes your palms sweat and your heart shake with anticipation of his touch despite your argument. 

But here’s Jungkook, being kind and open and raw and willing to stay up with you on this random sleepless night although you only met by chance mere hours ago. And his kind eyes widen and narrow and crinkle when he laughs at the movie, and he offers you a second blanket and a throw pillow when your eyes get too heavy for you to focus, and you don’t think that you’re imagining things as you feel gentle fingers comb through your hair. 

----

Your head feels like it’s filled with cotton when you wake up, confusion soaks your senses as you piece together where you are and how you got there and who’s lap your head is laying in. As if he could read your thoughts, Jungkook lets out a long and loud groan from above you. Clearly he had fallen asleep where he is now, head lolled against the back of the couch and a throw pillow folded between his arms. 

“Good morning.” He drawls, voice still deep and thick from slumber. Out of all the things you never thought you would do, waking up to Jungkook is near to the top. 

“M-morning.” You manage to call back as you run your hands over your face, hoping to absolve yourself of any evidence of shock. Jungkook’s studio is just as welcoming as it had been to you last night, but now a deep sense of guilt creeps through you. Yeonjun might have woken up by now, maybe he was ready to talk and try to make things better, maybe he’s been calling and texting you and you haven’t seen any of it. Your phone is nowhere to be found as you dig around in the blanket, a noise of distress clawing up the back of your throat. Heart pounding, you put a hand underneath the couch and slide it back and forth until your fingers graze over the cold, hard mass that must be your phone. As soon as it’s in your grasp you can see that the time is just a few minutes past 8am, and that you indeed do have a few texts waiting from Yeonjun. 

“Oh, Jungkook, thank you again for-y-you know, but I have to go, do you mind showing me which way to go?” Poor sense of direction had landed you here to begin with, and you wouldn’t let it make this problem any bigger again. Thankfully he doesn’t protest; just waits by the door as you straighten out your pajamas. Out in the hallway, the lights are bright and imposing and you recognize a headache from the late night is starting to creep up behind your eyes. No one really seems to be around to see the two of you, and you are nothing short of grateful for that when Jungkook makes a quick stop and you barrel into his back, face burning with embarrassment. He laughs as you sputter apologizes and wave for him to keep leading the way, but he insists on stopping and turning to face you. His face is puffy with sleep, eyes still scrunching against the lights, but they’re still clear and gentle and it’s hard to miss the teasing twitch of his full lips in such close proximity.

A wave of admiration crashes through you, followed quickly by a sickening feeling of guilt. Yeonjun was probably waiting for you to come talk things out, and here you were drooling over a different boy. “I’m okay, lets keep going.” Urging him on with a gentle push to his muscled back is the most you can do since you still don’t notice anything distinctive to lead you back to the correct dorm. Just a few more steps down the hallway and you can hear voices, overlapping shouts,  and one voice you would recognize anywhere coming from the way you were about to turn. Before you even had time to open your mouth to voice your concern to Jungkook, Yeonjun is stomping down the hallway, a panicked looking Taehyun in tow. 

His face is draw, sharp features heightened by either confusion or anger- it’s hard to tell- as he realizes who’s standing in front of him. The two boys are fairly evenly matched in height but Yeonjun still squares up, lifting his shoulders higher and craning his neck. You know he knows you’re there; you shared a moment of eye contact in the seconds before he leveled a glare at Jungkook. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Yeonjun spits, anger shaking the fists at his sides. Jungkook is shocked, you can tell even from behind him, the way he recoils just slightly and scoffs as if he can’t believe his ears. 

“Look, this doesn’t need to be a fight. I was just helping Y/N get back to your dorm.” You’re amazed at how well he controls his anger, especially after seeing the anger he held back against Yeonjun the night before. You take this as a queue to step out from behind Jungkook’s frame, allowing Yeonjun a better look at you. 

“Oh, before or after she spent the night in your studio? Just couldn’t resist giving her a place to stay. Someone to sleep with?” Anger flares in your stomach, lighting a fire underneath your skin. 

“What the fuck, Yeonjun? Do you really think that I would-”

“Sleep with him? Of course. Why wouldn’t you? Look at the state of you two, don’t tell me you didn’t fuck.” There was simply no believing what was coming out of his mouth, and his words only made you wish that you had acted on the feelings you felt brewing last night. 

“What if I did? You certainly don’t want me! I’m sorry I went looking for companionship somewhere else!” It’s much too quiet in the hallway after that, the only evidence that the world hadn’t stopped turning is Jungkook’s hand that comes up to rest on your shoulder. 

“So you did.” Yeonjun rubs his chin, taking a step backwards in what you assume is disbelief. Tears creep into the corners of your eyes, stubbornly burning and forcing you to blink until your vision is blurry. Jungkook says something you don’t quite catch through the static buzzing in your ears. You feel exhausted, weak at the knees with disbelief at just how awful this interaction was going; so lost that it takes Jungkook shaking your shoulder to bring you back to reality. 

“Please, I don’t want to talk about this here. Yeonjun, let’s go, please.” You beg, walking toward him before he even responds. The idea of being caught in this odd trifecta made you sweat. Jungkook protests but you wave him off quickly, assuring that there was nothing else he could do. As upset as Yeonjun was, you knew that he would calm down substantially once the older boy was gone. 

The walk to the dorm is thankfully short, and Taehyun tries his best at making small talk while Yeonjun trails behind like a petulant child. As soon as you cross into the dorm you feel awkward and hot all over like everyone is watching you even though Taehyun is already disappearing into his room and locking the door while Yeonjun breezes right past you. 

“I’m not playing the silent game.” You follow Yeonjun into the kitchen where he has his head buried in the fridge, making a point to rattle every bottle and package inside of it. 

“Alright, fine. Then you get to tell me the truth.” His voice is softer now, much less elevated and harsh than it was just minutes before. “Did you spend the night with him?” It rattles your bones to hear the edge of hurt in his voice. 

“I was wandering around the building in the middle of the night, and he was too- so I told him what was going on and he offered for me to stay in his studio, on the couch. And I said yes-” Yeonjun’s face crumples. “We watched a movie and I fell asleep.” 

“Why didn’t you just come back? I texted you, Y/N. We literally just argued about communication and the first thing you do is run to a different guy? If I’m not good enough for you, just admit it.” 

“I could say the same exact thing to you. Why am I here? Should I just book a flight home tonight and call it quits? Do you even want to try this?” Yeonjun cracks open a bottle of water and drinks half in one go, avoiding your gaze at all costs. “And I did nothing with Jungkook. Because I respect you, and whatever the fuck this-” You gesture between the two of you, feet apart, “is. Or was.” 

“Don’t say that.” Yeonjun’s voice cracks, reminiscent of the way he used to sound on the phone when he called you at the end of the day. “I- I don’t want to hear you say that. Please.” A tremor of hurt shakes your bones, creates an unpleasant lump in your throat that you try and fail to swallow. Yeonjun appears to you now as similar as he did in your teenage years; uncertain and small and his wide, glassy eyes latching on to you like a lifeline. And you can’t help but remember how you used to be too; devoted to him and naïve about where life was going to take you. 

“I don’t want to say it either, Yeonjun. I hate saying it. But we aren’t the same people we were all those years ago. We’re in two different lives, and as much as I want to be able to fit into yours...it’s never going to happen.” Your body weight feels suddenly too much, like you’re being filled with lead and sunk to the bottom of the ocean to be forgotten. Yeonjun finally closes your perpetual gap in a slow gait that seemed like it would last forever. His eyes are red, puffy, rimmed with unshed tears. Dark circles ring his eyes and you know they’re because he probably didn’t sleep last night either. His lips are chapped and dry, pouting in an incurable sadness. Your fingers itch to cup his jaw and litter him with kisses until he finally grins. 

“Are you saying you don’t love me?” If any other noise had happened at the same time he spoke, you wouldn’t have heard the question. A stake strikes through your heart at the words, scarring your soul for years to come. 

“No, Junnie. I love you so much.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you gasp out a sob, “I just don’t think we’re going to work this time around. We’re both too busy, and on different tracks, and I think we just have to be more r-realistic.” You have to close your eyes, unable to watch the way tears begin to cascade down his own face. “I’m sorry.” You stand alone, still and cold and clamping your eyes shut so hard that they hurt. 

Yeonjun’s body molds around your form, tight and warm and shuddering slightly from his own tears. He smells like laundry detergent and musk and you shake with regret as his arms wind around your back and hold you as close to his frame as you think is humanly possible. Your tears soak his crewneck as the fabric scratches your skin. His heart beat is erratic, but you know yours isn’t fairing any better, and you can’t help but curse the universe for bringing you all this way with him just to shoot you back down. 

“I’m sorry too. For not being enough.” His words rumble into your hair and you can’t even find the energy to refute them and instead just shake your head. Your head spins in wild circle as Yeonjun finally stops shaking underneath you in favor of cupping your face in tender hands, forcing you to open your eyes. His look felt more intimate than anything else you had shared before; a pure and expressive opening into his most vulnerable form and the knowledge that you were the reason he was feeling it. 

“I think I should try to catch an earlier flight home.” You aren’t quite sure exactly why you say it, but Yeonjun doesn’t seem surprised at the notion. After all, there would be nothing to stick around for. He still had to work and you had no relationship left to hang on to. You hadn’t even gotten around to unpacking your suitcase. Yeonjun nods sadly, wiping at a few more tears before clearing his throat. His voice is thick, the evidence of his emotion loud and clear and your heart breaks at the thought of truly walking away from him. 

“I’ll miss you, Y/N.” There’s no telling if he would ever contact you after this, or if you would contact him. Maybe the two of you will live with odd shadows of one another in the back of your heads for the rest of your lives- a teenage romance rekindled years later only to explode and crackle and eventually fade into the dark.

[fanficwritersinterviewed]

MCM, aurevell

<<This post is a part of a longer conversation about fanfic writers, how they view fanfic, and their writing process. All views are the fanfic writers’ own, and whatever fanfic they choose to write is entirely their own decision. No judgment value will be placed on fic content. These conversations are meant to provide insight for other fanfic writers in whatever stage they are at in their writing life>>

Meet-Cute Monday (with aurevell, @aurevell​ )

AO3 Stats:

Pseud: Aurevell Pronouns: she/her Current fandoms: Teen Wolf Current pairings: Steter, Sterek How many total fic: 12 How many fandoms: 1 Total word count: 313,899 Longest fic word count: 118,704 Shortest fic: 1,647 Highest kudo count: 1,795 Lowest: 148

What’s the story behind your pseud? I was a huge Tamora Pierce fan growing up (I liked the idea of all these girl knights running around kicking ass). Aurevell is a made-up character name I've used in video games/RPGs since I was a kid, because I thought it sounded like a lady knight from one of those books.

How long have you been reading and writing fanfic? Oof, I've been reading fanfic for over 15 years I think (help how do I math?) which is maybe showing my age a bit. I remember coming home and having to read it on our shared family computer! It was kind of a self-soothing reaction to having to wait for the next Harry Potter book, because I absolutely had to imagine what was coming next.

I started writing fanfic maybe a year or so after I started reading it. I stopped writing for a while when I got busy after college, but I never stopped reading it. When I finally jumped back in it was because I fell into the Teen Wolf fandom completely by accident. I wish I remembered which fics made me fall in love with it, but I couldn't tell you - except that all of a sudden I had a million story ideas and nowhere to put them all! So I made my current pseud for a fresh start and jumped back in.

Did you have any goals or hopes or something you wanted to get out of writing this second time around? Honestly, I didn't have any goals or hopes when I first started writing, with the possible exception of getting all those story ideas out of my head and onto paper - which hasn't happened AT ALL, because I get ten more ideas for every one fic I actually publish. But I am making some "fic resolutions" for 2022 to push myself a little harder, so we'll see how that goes!

Oh that's a good idea, what kinds of things do you think would go on that list of resolutions? Above all there are two long fics I have been trying to get started for literally...eight months? Nine?? And so at least starting those fics would be at the top of the list. I also do want to make some resolutions around reading about the process of writing so I can try some new stuff and maybe make my life a bit easier. And I also might set a total yearly word count goal, but that seems a bit too ambitious, so we'll see how I feel once I get there. Considering that I didn't win Nano this past year....I may end up reconsidering.

How do you know when an idea is worth chasing and when is it time to walk away? Oh god, that is the million dollar question! It's so hard to say, and if I knew the answer I probably wouldn't waste as much time as I do. But I probably circle back to a story if I either can't stop thinking about it, which is usually a sign there's at least something there, or if I feel like it deserves another shot. (I do follow a loose "three strikes and you're out" rule where if I've made three unsuccessful attempts to crank a fic out, I dump it in the trash bin where it continues to haunt me till the end of time).

Any particular ghosts of fic past that you want to give a shout out to here since they won't see the light of day? Literally so many I can barely choose. But most recently, there's this Sterek fic I wanted to do for Halloween which would be a literal horror story (my fave genre tbh) in which Stiles and Derek are trapped in the haunted Hale House with a monster. But I tried writing it over the summer for months, and no dice unfortunately! Which is fitting because it's haunting me still and also it's a haunted house I guess?

Hahaha! Yes! Thematic, I love it. Do you write original content or only fanfic? I don't write original content, but I DO want to start one day! I don't think I'll ever stop writing fanfic for good, but I think doing original stuff might be a fun challenge to get into. I've talked with a friend about getting into self-publishing together, so that's probably the route I'd end up going (if it happens).

What drives you to write? This feels like the biggest cop-out of all time, but can I just say "stories?" Telling a good story is really fun for me, and it's even more exciting when you're on tumblr or AO3 where there's fanfic communities, because you can get the sense that you're taking readers on a journey. That's why doing plotty stories are probably my favorite, because you get the dramatic reactions to reveals and cliffhangers and I LIVE for that stuff. Also let's be honest...I write fics because I want to read a very specific niche plot and no one else has done it yet. So it's like "okay I guess I HAVE to write this thing in order to experience it personally."

Not a cop out at all! I think it’s what’s the biggest difference between original fic writing and fanfic. Not quality, not that it’s playing with IP, but that you get the chance to engage with others as you write. It is SUCH good fuel for the fire.