#if this hasn't happened twice within a week i would not have thought of it

[cheswirls]

how do you read the same fic a million times and then jokingly click the kudos button only for it to go thru bc you've never left a like 🙈 i'm so embarrassed. this is the second time in the past few days

[saturngas]

him getting hard at you yelling at him

[🪐] the kyoto exchange event is soon and your husband has been meeting up a lot with a coworker. you get a bit jealous, not aware that your husband may have a thing with that

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: a bit angsty at the beginning, suggestive, not really smut

warnings: established relationship; jealousy; possessiveness; boners; a bit of toxicity; idk if this is super canon but some scenarios are from the jjk game phantom parade;

word count: 2.9k

..

this is stupid right? you know your husband has a natural charm that is often misinterpreted as annoying and obnoxious. not everyone is prepared to receive all that satoru gojo has to offer, only a few people have dared to try to keep up with him, including yourself.

and you knew his coworkers weren't really... fond of him.

so why were you all of the sudden so bothered by him going out so much with his female coworker utahime?

the sister school exchange event was happening soon, in two weeks to be more precise. you were a former sorcerer yourself, though you weren't really involved in the education regarding the sorcery school; so this event was more of satoru's business, you were only required to be present during the group combat.

"sweet cheeks, im going out with nanami! just to discuss things about the exchange event." he had said one day. you wished him good luck with no negative thought in mind.

"baby, Nanami wasn't of much help, so now I have to go talk with utahime." he pouted. and you paid no mind. it was known to almost every breathing being that utahime wasn't confortable around satoru, even as going to telling him to leave her alone. that has being their relationship since satoru was in high school, him often disrespecting her authority and status as a sorcerer, and her just chastising him as his former senior.

so why were you so troubled if you knew this about them? well probably them going out three times this week stirred a nerve.

it's because the exchange event. you kept telling yourself, but you couldn't avoid the venomous feeling of jealousy. which was an actual insult to your relationship with satoru, who had never given you reasons to doubt him, on the contrary, he often showers you with infinite love and words of affirmation that only fulfill your love for him.

but hasn't utahime grow tired of him already? you questioned deeply. she was his number one despiser. being with satoru for only ten minutes aged her ten years. you were incredulous she was lasted so much around your husband. even if it was work-related.

it was a Friday. your husband visited his female coworker twice this week, this day being the third encounter. he hadn't told you where, though you were sure he would have told you if you were to ask him. but you didn't. it was your untouched pride that had stopped you from that. not wanting to make your jealousy public. you were certain of the endless teasing satoru would treat you with.

you were alone in your shared house. it was actually your day off. day you had planned to spend it with your silly spouse, before his phone buzzed and he announced his meeting with utahime. it would be a lie to say you weren't upset.

"take care, toru. and please come back soon." your farewell felt bittersweet, bitter to you, sweet to satoru. his obliviousness about the hurricane going inside your core was only contributing to your indignation.

as you turned on the tv in front of you, you tried brushing off the corrosive sensations that came within the recap of the events occurred this week. the remote seemed to have a mind of its own as you picked some random show absentmindedly, just something to cloud your head.

utahime was actually a nice and proper woman. she has always being respectful to you and only occasionally made discrete comments about your relationship with satoru, questioning amusingly how you put up with him. she was obviously no harm, even less to your husband.

perhaps it was your primal instincts that were responsible of your disapproval of them going out so much. you weren't exactly the jealous type. okay, maybe you were fussing too much over this situation.

the tv show actually completed its purpose and distracted you effectively. your mind now wondering how the main character was going to open up his own jazz club.

the door opening startled you slightly, turning your head immediately to see the person you had been missing the whole evening. satoru kicked off his shoes at the entrance as he stepped closer to you, a hand running through his snowy hair and taking off his rectangular glasses.

"oh baby, you should have seen utahime! she is so bad at playing baseball even though she's a fan of it!"

what a fucking dumbass. your eyes full of love threatened to turn wicked at such comment. so he went to play baseball with her?! it wasn't work-related?!

"what do you mean, satoru?" your tone wasn't the kindest. "I thought you went out to talk over the final details about the exchange event."

"oh, that," satoru was now aware of your little irritation, your evident pitch of voice made sure of that. "yeah it is very important for the event, baby!"

"how so?" exasperation was written all over your face, making story wince a bit. you lifted yourself up from the couch to face him.

"do you really want me to tell you? I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise for the studen—"

"what could possibly be a surprise, satoru?!" you snapped. the first two thirds of his sentence infuriated you so much you didn't even listen to his last words. "you going out three times with utahime this week was definitely a suprise for me."

his baby blue eyes were as wide as plates. he didn't expect you to yell at him over this. and for some reason, he felt himself warmer.

"and, and now—" red was coating your face, endless frustration ready to be busted in forms of hurtful words and angry glances. "and now you're telling me you were playing baseball with her?! and expect me to be all okay with that? what kind of work-related stuff requires two coworkers to go out and play baseball alone?"

satoru was in a state of awe at first, his face displaying the shock your exposed irritation caused him. but his bad habit of fixing situations with comedy and witty remarks had entered the scene. it would have normally calmed you down, if it wasn't for the pent up frustration that was on the picture.

"oh~ so you were jelly~?" he sent you a wink, his lanky body getting closer to yours by instinct. "don't worry baby. I have eyes only for yo—" wrong move.

"how could you joke about this, satoru?!" your loud words stirred something inside him, something that should not be stirred nor awaken during these moments. "im here trying to tell you how I feel and you just— you just joke arou—" your words were fading away in his hearing. your red face and glassy eyes only on his mind. oh how pretty you looked when you were angry, especially when you were yelling at him. a wicked part of satoru was glad your undivided attention was on him, even if it was you snapping at him. your overly licked lips were moving furiously as you cried out your thoughts.

"and now you are spacing out!" you snapped your fingers in front of him. satoru's mind went back to the scenario occurring in the living room.

"baby, you have literally nothing to worry abo—"

"stop talking and let me finish."

oh no. he loved you and hated you for that. satoru fell in love hard for your personality, admiring how you never left anyone cut your words. you always stood for yourself, shouting your thoughts in a confident voice. and in a world still ruled by men such as the sorcery world, that was very hard to achieve. but oh how he hated that exact same admiration for your courage became warm enthusiasm—lust—in a couple of seconds. your sharp tone kindled his core, feeling his pants a bit tighter in the front.

not now please... he cursed in the back of his head. you were already cooking him, a visible boner would be the death for him. a reasonable motive to make him sleep in the couch and put him in a sex—or even touch, if you were feeling sinister—ban.

"i don't like it when you joke when I tell you about my feelings," there it was again, that stern voice he loved so much, though he cursed it at the moment. "I also don't like it when you go out too much with utahime."

if you only knew you were making him hard as hell from yelling at him you wouldn't even have to worry about his female friends.

"is that understood, satoru?" you lifted one single finger to emphasize your point even more. that little habit of yours, along with placing a hand on your hip and slightly wobbling your head, was going to be his final straw.

"yeah, of course baby." he breathed, sending you an apologetic look. "can we go to bed, already? I need cuddles."

you shot him an unamused glare. uh maybe you weren't done. satoru could feel his hot skin sticking to his clothes thanks to his sweat. you held so much power over the strongest.

"why were you playing baseball with her?"

"baby it wasn't anything of the sort!" he said agitated. "you know that after the group combat usually comes the individual combats, and I just know yuji will be in danger," you nodded at his words. that was true. satoru had told you a few days before he suspected of someone plotting against the young sorcerer. "so I wanted to change the routine and make it about something fun, you know? something harmless, like some sport the kids will enjoy."

your heart actually softened at his explanation. satoru's priorities embraced the security of the youth, especially that of the newest first-year student, which was often at jeopardy.

however, that explained nothing.

"what does that have to do with you going out with—"

satoru cut your words, and flinched slightly at the way your eyes narrowed and your brow curled up. "I couldn't come up with something myself, so I asked nanami and utahime to go out to play a sport they liked. of course I couldn't tell them what I was plotting," his hands motioned to himself. "nanami took me to bowling, I liked it, but then I thought it wouldn't be a good idea especially for yuji and maki, you know how they are." you nodded. "and then utahime took me to a baseball simulator, and it was all perfect!" he said enthusiastically, lifting his long arms in victory. he was feeling so hot his forehead was shining with sweat. it was becoming harder and harder to contain his boner. the last thing he wanted was to nut mid-explanation.

you widened your eyes in both wonder and confusion.

"no! i mean—," he panicked "it was all perfect because the game was perfect for the kids. not that it was perfect to go out with her!" your husband tried to save himself.

an unannounced sighed left your lips. you were still glaring at him, and even though satoru was a foot taller than you, you were making him a bit too much nervous.

—that and the fact that his stiff boner was still present, only softening lightly when he panicked at your misunderstanding. his little friend was eager for you to yell at him as well.

"am i forgiven now?" he battled his long white lashes to you, giving you the babiest of looks, deeply hoping you would end this silly discussion and take care of him.

"mmm..." a finger rubbed your chin as you pondered about it. "I don't know, satoru," he deflated in front of you. "why didn't you ask me for help? you know I like sports too."

"of course I thought about you, pookie! you were the first person I considered" a pout adorned his pretty face as his long arms attempted to hug you, only for you to step back. "please don't do that, im gonna start crying."

"answer the question satoru."

"it's just that you were so busy with work I genuinely didn't want to disturb you more."

it was true. even though you were not a teacher at the school, the exchange event also demanded you of your time, your main concerns being completing and getting the arrangements ready, especially with the higher ups—the part satoru disliked the most—, and making the them believe sukuna's vessel was still dead.

"but it could have been just a simple question, satoru." there you were again with that rigid tone of yours. haven't you noticed satoru is all red faced and his cock is starting to ache? of course not, because you hate him, right?

"I know baby~" a whine left his mouth, eyes pleading you two could just cuddle and maybe, just maybe, you could stroke him a bit. "but you were very, very, very stressed, I really didn't want to put another burden on you. you would often come very tense after a meeting with the higher ups."

you huffed. well, you guessed you could give that to satoru. but it still hurt he didn't even ask you the simple question, or even explaining to you his little plan. he was certain you wouldn't object.

"okay, satoru," the tall man's ears spiked at your words. ready to say yes to your proposal to cuddling. "I still need some time to cool down. so I'll go to bed." your feet dragged you to the hallway after you turned off the tv, satoru following you behind. "no," you lifted your palm toward him, stopping him. "you sleep in the couch."

"but whyyy?"

"because you didn't tell me sooner about all this! and because im still mad at you."

satoru let out a dramatic puff, blowing raspberries. he grabbed quickly his things and prepared himself for a lonely night. the disappointment from not sleeping next to you dissipated his boner.

the next day you actually didn't see each other until night. satoru had to attend a clan meeting while you met with the directors of both sorcery schools to go over all the remaining affairs.

exhaustion drew all over your face as you entered your house, a recently cooked meal aroma invading your nostrils. your feet pulled you toward the exquisite scent with little resistance. the view of your tall husband hovering over the stove welcomed you.

"hey pookie boo," satoru said excitedly as he stirred whatever he was making. tapping the utensil away before invading your personal space. "how was your meeting with the directors? they weren't rude to you, were they?" he smiled as he enveloped you in a affective hug. you hadn't forgotten about his little game from last night, but you would be lying to yourself if you admit you hadn't missed his warmth.

"it was fine, very tiring," you looked at him with tired eyes, making his heart do several jumps at your cuteness. "they made me go over all the details about the curses they will release, discussing if they were the appropriate levels for the students."

"oh poor you~" he sang. "let me feed you fully and then we can go to bed and have a well deserved sleep," he was trying to get away.

"hey!" you yelped. satoru felt his dick stir and enlarge. "don't think I haven't forgotten about last night," a stern pitch adorned your voice.

"baby, please," he whined, "if you knew what you do to me, you wouldn't be like this," he hinted silently to the ache between his legs. "what do you want me to do to—"

"satoru," a shiver danced along his spine at the sound of his name rolling from your lips. "I want you to only look at me," you don't know what roamed through your being, but a sudden urge of claiming him took over you. your bottled up feelings from last night revealing themselves. perhaps the heat of the moment didn't let you communicate your darkest desires.

your smaller frame was still held captive by his heavy arms. you lifted your arms to surround his neck, bringing him closer to you, chest to chest. satoru left you handle him as you pleased. he caressed your waist as you stared up at him, darkness painting itself over your irises, your gloomy gaze contributing to the tightening feeling of his pants, his present hard-on sharpening his breathing.

"i want your to only look at me," a twitch inside his pants.

"i want you to give me your full attention," a throb.

"i want you to only think of me," a pulse.

"you are mine, satoru, and as far as I know, im yours. so don't you ever forget that." the white haired sorcerer could bet his underwear was damp from his leaking. why were you like this?

you nuzzled your nose against his, before giving his lips a chaste kiss. "baby you are so hot when you are toxic like that." you chuckled lightly at his words, brushing your fingers along the short hairs of his undercut. you swear you could hear him purr.

"toru don't romanticize this side of me or I'll be more toxic than the elephant's foot." satoru gave your butt a little squeeze before bringing one hand up to play with your cheek, squeezing it as well, before leaving a soft peck on it. his lips then moved to yours, sharing a long and passionate kiss with you. oh how much he missed your touch.

"baby would you get mad at me if I tell you I was hard as a rock when you were yelling at me last night? no one has that power over me."

"what"

[chimivx]

public occurrences. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader

summary: It's been almost a year since Vegas. As one would expect, life hasn't gotten any easier. If anything it's gotten even more chaotic. The world knows who you are now... There aren't anymore secrets to hide.

words: 6k

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS IN THE WARNINGS. use of cuss words, they talk of anxiety, some mental health situations, talks about a miscarriage, talks about Jin and other members leaving. other than that- not much else. If I missed anything PLEASE let me know.

a/n: CAN'T BELIEVE ANOTHER VEGAS IS HERE. Enjoy my loves. Thank you for all the love and support always. <3 It's just a short little drabble of one specific moment of time, but I thought it was pretty important.

~ the end of february 2023 ~

A dull pain begins to erupt where you’ve had your jaw clenched for the last twenty minutes. A soreness in your jaw you’re not quite sure will ever be able to go away. For the past few months it’s found itself in this compromised position.

Your entire body is made of steel, your joints creaking as you attempt to pull yourself together amidst the panic ensuing within your nervous system. Limbs heavy to the point you aren’t sure whether or not you’ll be able to exit the vehicle.

Breathe in, breathe out. The words repeat.

Breath in, breathe out. It made you want to sing Hobi’s song. Inhale, inhale, exhale, exhaaale. But there was no time for fun. Not when you were about to walk outside in front of cameras for the first time in eight years.

The morning was spent in a blur, the attempts to perfect your hair and makeup happening at an hour too early, much like how you rolled out of bed. An hour too early. You were awake before your daughter even had the chance to stir.

Anxiety had been simmering beneath your skin for weeks. You could barely eat, the nausea would rip through you violently. Again, for the past few months that’s how life has been, nausea, anxiety, melancholy thoughts and dreams, however this event seemed to be adding twice as much. These past few days you’ve probably accumulated a total of nine hours of sleep. You had more shuteye the week after your daughter's birth.

There seemed to be a butterfly effect from the events in Vegas. The incident that caused countless meetings and endless discussions because the company just couldn’t handle anymore media control or protection. You should never have trusted that girl.

BigHit took their time, the company drug out the announcement as long as they could so it would surpass Jin’s deployment and your goddamn wedding. Now, with it being the end of February, Yoongi’s been traveling absolutely everywhere for basketball games, photoshoots, and he’s announced a tour… It was about to happen. For the very first time in eight years you were officially about to be on camera, branded by flashes, posted online permanently, forever going to be seen and known as Min Yoongi’s wife.

Next to you, Yoongi grips your knee tight, in hopes to settle your worries. Glancing down to his knobby hand you sigh and suck in a deep breath.

“We’ll be fine,” he said softly. Meeting his comforting gaze, you attempt to smile, one that makes him laugh. “I promise. Remember everything we talked about?”

You do. Of course you do. It’s been playing on repeat for one hundred and sixty eight hours. 

That’s how many hours are in a week. You had to google that.

When this entire plan was set in place you requested a play by play, a step by step tutorial- a rehearsal even! You were walking out into the public eye with your child for the first time. People knew who you were now. 

There were going to be cameras, and fans, and paparazzi, and loud noises, and people rushing you, and standards to follow. It was all too much, it all seemed to be entirely too much. You were going to have a toddler on your hip, one who could barely stand to be in a room full of people her father worked with let alone god knows how many strangers at an airport.

“What happens first?” Yoongi asked, reaching for one of your hands to tangle his fingers with yours. He could feel your panic. “Tell me the first thing we’re going to do.”

Gulping, you respond, “Park.” Looking up at his short hair that you’re livid with- his long hair was dreamy, and sexy, and you could pull it- you receive another laugh. He hadn’t expected you to be so literal.

“Good, we’ll park,” he praised. “And then what?” Tipping his chin down his eyes widened a bit, becoming all the more endearing.

“Then, Branson and his team get out,” you said, feeling a bit better looking into his eyes. Yoongi gives you a soft smile, dragging his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Has Branson ever let you down?”

“Never,” you whispered. Almost nine incident free years with the man, after Yoongi, you depended on. 

Your husband leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Exactly,” he said. “What happens next?”

Going through the last three simple steps, everything seemed ready to go to plan. Once Branson was ready, you were going to take your daughter out of her carseat, exit the car, and follow the men inside. You would be the one to carry your daughter, just in case. People were unpredictable in these situations, and Yoongi agreed that if something were to happen to him here, you should be the one to carry her inside. As much as that little comment terrified you to hear him say, he was right.

Simple as pie. You hoped.

In a perfect world that’s how it would happen, and you want nothing more than for this to go smoothly.

People knew your name. Everyone has found out that it’s been years. The company was prepared for mass destruction, and so were you and Yoongi. A first public appearance, this is where it would all go to shit. There isn’t much chaos people can fully ensue over the internet.

As for your friends, the two of you personally asked them to stay out of it and at the drop of a hat they agreed. The five boys and Sunny shook on it. No one would say a word publicly, no one would do any interviews, no tweets, no Instagram posts, no stories pushed, no Weverse comments. Silence. Radio silence.

Jin has most definitely heard what has happened, and the next time you and Yoongi get to see him, there will be tea to spill. Your heart aches whenever you think about him, especially for Yoongi. He’s had to go through this madness and so much more without his best friend.

The week after he left was complete and utter hell for your family. And not just because of Jin.

Pushing aside all thoughts of having to redo the motions with Hobi very soon, you come to realize that steps one and two of the plan have already commenced.

The black SUV was parked in front of the airport, and Branson and his team were setting themselves up. Through the dark tinted windows there are crowds upon crowds of people, masses of them so large one would think the entire band was here. It reminded you of a concert, they were all waiting in groups with their phones out, pointing them at the vehicles that you and your team were in.

Slapping your hand on top of Yoongi's, you grip it tight, digging your nails into his palm. He places his other right on top of yours.

“I can’t do it,” you mumbled, whipping your head to shoot him a terrified look.

Yoongi smiles, though your fear threatens to crack him. If this wasn’t ordered by the company he’d whisk you away to safety, getting inside the airport without a soul knowing. He’s broken these rules before, going against what his company wants for your sake, it’s been eight years of you coming first, you topping all things that have to do with his job. 

Now that the gig was up, now that people knew who you were and knew that it’s been forever, he feels as though he owes it to his fans to do a three minute appearance. As much as he was deeply in love with you, he loved his fans almost as much. He wanted to show you off, he wanted the world to see who’s been keeping him sane all this time, who’s been the source of his happiness for years.

“Yanno, the last time you told me that you seemed to handle everything just fine,” he said, glancing at your sleeping daughter beside you. Blowing a gust of air through your lips, you roll your eyes.

“I didn’t have to do any work, D, they cut her out of me,” you grilled back, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t-” your words are cut off by a sudden short breath. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” escapes you in a whisper. 

Branson taps his fist on the window a couple of times gently, signaling that he was ready for the three of you to come out. The murmurs from the crowds can be heard, leaking through the cracks in the doors, swarming around you constricting your chest.

Yoongi slips an arm around your back, holding you against him tight. Burying your face into his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and takes a deep breath. You can feel his beating heart steady between his lungs. This was just another day for him. He’s had ten years to grow used to this.

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” he said softly. Peeking up at him, you frown.

“What?” you question, lowering your brows. He nods a couple of times, giving you a small smile.

“I was afraid this was going to happen, because I knew this was going to happen,” he said.

“Me freaking out, right?” you sighed, your tone completely breathless. A soft hum leaves his chest as he ponders what you’ve said, then he shakes his head. “What?” you question again with more vigor.

“Well,” he huffs a gentle laugh, “I figured something along the lines of that would happen, but only ‘cause of her,” he nods to your daughter, “Not because you’re scared of going out there. You’re only worried for her. If it were seven years ago you think you’d feel this way?”

Shaking your head to answer him, the electricity coursing through your veins seems to subside.

“Exactly,” he smirked. “Before her you were dancing in the streets before my shows, you were talking to people, my fans! You were prancing around stadiums and concerts like it was nothing.”

“I loved doing that,” you smiled. 

“Fuck yeah, you loved doing that,” he said, giving you the smallest shake. “And, you know what? It’s not just you going out there as my wife, right? They know what you’ve done for us, they know what you’ve made for us.”

Your smile starts to grow. He was right. The fans, the people, they loved your work. The music videos, the art, the TinyTan, the creative concepts, the photoshoots, all of it. They finally knew that it was you. The ghost creator had been unveiled.

“You probably have fans of your own,” Yoongi said matter of factly. “I guarantee you all these people are here for you, not me.” Frowning humorously, you make him laugh.

“Doubt that,” you said flatly.

“Alright, half and half,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We can do this, you can do this. We’re doing it together, like we do everything. We’ll get through this together. We always do. Just think, next time we see Jin we have to tell him all about this, he’ll never believe it.” 

Averting your eyes from his, your mind is suffocated by the many, many things you’re going to have to tell Jin when you’re with him again, which you’re hoping is soon. So much has happened, so much has changed, and it’d only been about three months.

“Yeah,” you whispered, flickering your eyes up to Yoongi who’s flashing you a curious look. “He probably still thinks I’m pregnant.”

A flash of discomfort wrecks his expression for all of two seconds as he glances away from you with a breath. Swallowing hard, he relaxes his face and looks back at you, his lips pressed together tight.

“He, uh,” he began in a whisper, “He... knows.” Before you have a chance to say anything, the subtle shock on your face telling him plenty, he cuts you off. “I’m sorry, baby. I had to tell him, it’s Jin, that’s my best friend, he’s the only one I could even say the words to.”

Sitting up a bit, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek, dragging your thumb over his smooth skin. “D, it’s okay,” you reassured him, bobbing your head. His lips form a pout, one that gets you to giggle. “I promise, it’s okay.”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two of you, feelings swirling around the empty air as you both choose what to do or say next. Yoongi leans into you, kissing your forehead once more before placing his own there.

“You’re so incredible,” he said, watching you flutter your eyes shut. “The strongest woman I know, the most talented woman I know. On top of having such a beautiful, creative mind, you’re a fucking fantastic mother.” Yoongi pauses, taking a deep breath, as do you. “He was lucky to have you for as long as he did.”

A lump lodges in your throat. Scrunching your face, you shake your head, rubbing your forehead to his.

“Don’t make me cry,” you said, voice wavering with uncertainty. 

“Cry?” a tiny voice speaks up from your right, a yawn of the same intensity coming out of her straight after. Popping your eyes open you share a small smile with your husband, and just as you’re about to turn to your little one, Yoongi slips a hand beneath your chin, holding you in place.

“Hey,” his voice is soothing. “I love you.” Your heart flutters.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, accepting the quick kiss he gives you.

Turning to the carseat that has secured a permanent spot in this car, you smile at your daughter who has her head turned toward you and her father. Her sleepy eyes entice a happy hum from you.

“You were supposed to sleep through this,” you said sarcastically sweet. Yoongi chuckles, unbuckling from his seat. The clang of the metal on the door makes your heart skip a beat.

“No,” your daughter said. “No sleep. All done.” Her voice is tiny, and slightly broken, and not hitting all of the right sounds, but her speech has only been improving. The two of you speak to her like she’s a human being, saving the baby voices for when she’s feeling silly, which can attest to her strong vocabulary and understanding of conversation.

You’re beginning to think she is a genius like her father.

“Mama, up,” she cooed, reaching out her arms that were finally starting to get a little chubby. Her cheeks had caught up to her as well, they were finally perfectly pinchable.

Freeing her from the car seats restraints, your daughter aids you in her escape, launching herself forward and up into your arms with a shout.

“Oh!” she giggles once her arms are around your neck and her face is buried in your hair. 

“Oh!” you and Yoongi copy her, to which she responds with another shout.

Her attentive eyes point out the window when she sits herself up, tapping on your shoulder a couple of times with her palm. Lifting a hand, she tries to point at the crowds of people.

“Where?” she asked curiously, looking to either of her parents for an answer. Her voice turned you into a complete puddle, the sound coming out as ‘Wheh?’, the middle syllable is even more pronounced when she questions the two of you again.

Yoongi brings a hand to her forehead, brushing away a few dark hairs that fell into her eyes. The girl hated bows, you stopped trying.

 “We’re at the airport,” he told her, and she listened with all of her might. “We’re going on a plane, isn’t that fun? You like flying.” Her eyes blink a few times, taking her time to process the words. 

Sighing aloud, dramatically of course, she glances out the window and mumbles a jumble of sounds. Following her gaze, you gulp. 

Eager eyes of bystanders attempted to shatter the glass of the tinted windows.

“Mama,” your daughter said, looking at you. “Go, Mama,” she bounced once. “Go,” she bounced twice. You knew the moment you stepped out into the noise and the flashing lights that she would have a meltdown, but you admired her desire to get out of the car. Yoongi was right, she loved flying, it was her second favorite thing right now. Securely at number one was Jungkook, for a year and seven months. That spot was unattainable for anyone else.

“Shall we?” Yoongi offered, watching you fiercely, letting you take the lead. He waited patiently for your answer, heaving a sigh of relief when you finally gave him a tentative nod of your head.

“Dada, go,” your daughter babbled. “Mama, go. Dada, go. Mama, go.”

Sharing a laugh with Yoongi, you take a long deep breath and tighten your grip around her back, holding her in front of your chest. Smiling at you, your baby touched a hand to your cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered to her. She leans her head toward you and puts her nose on yours.

“Ah-luh-oo,” she tried her best to repeat. Stealing a kiss from her, you let Yoongi press a thousand to her cheek to make her giggle, and then it’s time.

Everything seems to move in slow motion, your vision tunneling as your husband opens the car door. Pulling a mask over his face, he sends you a reassuring wink before he rounds the vehicle.

Screams erupt from every corner of the space, and shouting from the team can already be heard. Strict shouting, like things were getting crazy already. Your daughter’s eyes are wide as she looks out the windows and up at you. Her curiosity has been swapped for a little bit of fear. 

You couldn’t let her see you panic.

Sliding off of the leather seat and onto the concrete of the airport lot, you pull a mask over your own face and instantly slip a hand to the back of your baby's head. Her legs were wrapped around your torso, and the moment you stepped outside her arms clung around your neck for safety. You already had a suspicion that you weren’t going to have to actively try to hide her face, she would want to do that herself.

Your bags were already taken care of, there wasn’t anything else you needed to grab from the car other than your child and yourself. Everything else would be taken care of for you.

With another deep, dramatic breath, you hold your daughter close, allowing her to bury her face into your neck, and you circle the car like Yoongi had. Upon rounding the back, cameras that were already flashing began to flash faster, quicker. Wide eyed and stunned by the greeting of screams, you barely have time to process anything before Branson grabs your arm. 

It’s a gentle tug, one to help keep you on track. He pulls you close to him, staying one step ahead of you as you wait for a couple of seconds in front of the car. Glancing amongst the crowd, it’s mainly full of paparazzi and probably some journalists. Behind the tall men and their cameras you can see the fans, the ones holding up their phones and jumping up and down trying to catch a glimpse at the commotion.

Airport security guards held some people back, though no one seemed to be trying to push through excessively, which was your main fear. 

“Another minute here,” Branson said to you, leaning into your ear. “They need photos, then we go.” Nodding, you peek down at your girl who was content clinging to her mother and hiding from the chaos. A sound of admiration rips through the crowd as you stroke her back, one that surprises you.

Up ahead, close to the doors, Yoongi was walking backward slowly, watching you. His fans twisted their heads side to side, from him, to you, and back again. To spice things up a bit, he gives you a wave, and everyone goes nuts.

You can’t help but laugh at him, eyes crinkling at the sides. For some reason you had thought he’d treat you differently when you were outside, but aside from following the rules, he was still your husband. He points to the baby on your chest and questions you with a thumbs up. Another giant ‘Awh!’ rolls through the chattering crowd.

Sending a thumbs up back, the fans laugh, and cheer. Then, your heart plummets to your stomach.

From somewhere within the crowd your name is shouted. And then again. Before you knew it, the entire crowd wanted your attention. Overwhelmed, feeling utterly insane, your eyes well up with tears. You're unable to make out anything else they’re saying though, there were too many people talking at once, and to you, that was a good thing.

God forbid anybody had anything bad to say. You’ve heard it before, but you don’t need to live it in real time.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. Branson leans into you again, questioning what you’ve said. Turning to him, you smile and repeat, “Holy shit!” 

“You’re okay?” he asked, gently putting a hand over your shoulder blade. 

“I- I think so?” you said to him, raising your voice over the crowd that was only getting louder. Glancing down to your daughter who’s little fists were attempting to rip holes in your sweater, you send a look to Yoongi, and he stops walking all together. Bundled up in the safety of her mothers arms wasn’t enough for the baby, she needed to be out of this situation immediately. “Branson we have to go.”

“I don’t have the signal yet, we need Yoongi inside before we move forward,” he said. Frowning, you knew the man was just doing his job, but a cry from your daughter flipped a switch within you.

“We need to go,” you insisted, shooting him a glare. Cradling the back of her head, you press your masked lips to her hair and take a deep breath, hoping she’d feel as much of your love as possible. 

“Go! Get him inside,” Branson spoke into the tiny walkie he carried on his chest, gesturing toward the door with persistence. 

The crowd, now roaring, and growing larger, began to push. The barriers that were blocked by guards were spilling over the edge.

Branson placed a hand to the top of your shoulder and held onto you tight. Grabbing the little speaker, he spoke clearer. “We need to move forward, and we cannot do that if you cannot get him indoors.”

Up ahead your husband was watching you with a heated gaze. His attention didn’t deter from you once. His heart twisted when you cradled your daughter, when he saw Branson begin to get defensive. The hand that was placed protectively on your shoulder could make him scream, and the team behind him, calling after him to get him to step inside the airport made his thoughts fuzzy.

What the hell was he doing? Why would he ever allow the two of you, the most important people in his life, why would he allow you to do it alone? This was the very first time you’ve done this, and he’s realized now that he’s made the biggest mistake.

Forgetting everything he was told, everything he’s learned, Yoongi bounds toward you, using the fast paced walk that his fans clown him for. They absolutely lose their minds, the people around you. 

Wide eyed and shocked, you’d never think he’d break the rules on this one, you sigh in relief when he reaches your side. An arm wraps around your shoulder, Yoongi closing you in front of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you asked, giving your head a small shake.

Your husband smiles, reaching up to pull his mask off of his face, removing yours as well.

“Not letting you do it alone,” he said to you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. As you could’ve guessed, the collective lost their minds. 

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” you smiled up at him, laughing as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

“You two are always worth it,” he said. “Now, c’mon,” he stepped aside to hold you behind your back, keeping you tucked beneath his arm. Using his other hand he rubbed the baby’s back and gave her cheek a quick kiss, happy to find that once he joined you two she had calmed down. “Let’s go see Kookie.”

Her head shot right up with enormous dark eyes full of stars. “Koo-hee?!”

“Koo-hee!” Both you and Yoongi copy her tiny voice, making her giggle with the silly smiles you flash at her.

The world around you seemed to melt away the second you were in your husband's arms, like all of a sudden you had the strength to handle anything the world would have thrown at you. His grip around your body as he walked with you into the airport was enough to silence the crowd, and power your legs to get through the doors without an incident.

A mere twenty minutes later, the three of you were seated on the plane, your daughter snoozing soundly on her fathers chest while you scrolled through your phone, curious to see what the internet has had to say of your appearance already. Resting his head on your shoulder, Yoongi followed along, making a sweet comment at every single photo of you.

“Oh, that one is the best,” he said quietly, your Twitter scroll stopping on a picture of the three of you before you walked off. The big, genuine, happy smiles you and Yoongi wore were priceless as you grinned at your baby girl, one whose face didn’t make it into any photos- thank the good Lord that somebody believes in. “You should post that one.”

Giving him a sideways glance, you huff a gentle laugh. “To my Instagram? It’s just gone public, you want me to blow it up even more?”

Yoongi tips his chin up, flashing you pouty puppy dog eyes. “I just want them all to know you’re mine. Both of you. I want everyone to know I’m yours, and I always have been.” You gave his forehead a kiss.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I’ll post it. Her face isn’t in any of these, so I can post as many as I want.”

Settling comfortably on your shoulder once again, Yoongi gave you caption advice for the post- an emoji that seemingly had nothing to do with the photo… But, you used it anyway. The angel emoji, with a halo and little wings.

“That one’s perfect,” he whispered, tapping on it for you.

“If you say so,” you smiled. Yoongi sat up a bit, carefully to not disturb his sleeping daughter. “You always pick the random ones.”

“Every single one I use means something,” Yoongi gazed at you fiercely. “That little guy,” he pointed to the angel, “That makes four of us.”

Your lips parted in surprise, unsure of what to say. That week in December devastated you both. Your stomach flips while you watch him study your face. The whirlwind life you live hasn’t given either of you proper time to process, or grieve.

“Baby,” he whispered, closing the space between you to touch his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to post it if you don’t want to.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your eyes welling with tears, you furrow your brows. “What did I do wrong,” escaped you in an exasperated gust of air. Yoongi shifted, wrapping an arm around your back. 

“No,” he said, putting on his strong facade. “We don’t do that, we’ve talked about this. You know there wasn’t anything you did wrong. There wasn’t anything I did wrong. You heard the doctor say it, baby, multiple times. You gave him the perfect home, you’re healthy.” Yoongi paused to gauge where you were, praying that you were listening to him.

You respond after a few seconds, bobbing your head. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi swallows down the lump in his throat.

“It just wasn’t his time,” he whispered. “He wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah,” you whispered fast. Yoongi’s thumb found your cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“And, you remember the last time we were there, they said we could try again whenever we were ready,” he said. The end of last month you had a check-up with your doctor, just to make sure things were back to normal, and that your body was holding up alright. Your second pregnancy was a surprise, much like the first, you and Yoongi haven’t seemed to learn your lesson. However, losing your son before you had even gotten the chance to hold him in your arms put a lot of things into perspective for the two of you.

There were routine check-ups, you were eating better- both of you! This second child was something that you and your husband both wanted, and though each of your emotions have been through the wringer… You would be willing to try again when you felt like you could handle it.

“I want to,” you whispered. Yoongi smiled, but you could see his own worries within it. “I know, I feel the same way.”

“Together,” he cuts off the nervousness quickly. “We’ll do it together.”

“Uh, we kinda have to,” you giggled, making him laugh.

“I can’t wait,” he sing-songed through clenched teeth with a grin, stealing a kiss from you. Yoongi backs away from you to check on your sleeping daughter who hasn’t made a peep. He was surprised she had let her eyes shut while she was beside the window, normally she’d be gazing out at the clouds passing by.

Picking your phone up off of your lap, you smile at the angel emoji and click post, letting the notifications flood in like wildfire. This was all brand new. You were allowed to make your Instagram public about a week ago, and since then you’ve reached four million followers, while you used to have forty-six. Silencing the notifications from the app, every photo you’ve ever posted amassed an incredible amount of likes. Your feed was a feast, and the public was hungry. 

Four million followers and counting. The number was only going to get bigger.

Watching the photo gain twenty thousand likes whenever you refreshed the page, you nudged Yoongi’s shoulder to show him what was happening, and when he turned his head to look, an unknown number you’ve never seen before popped onto your screen, calling you.

“What the…” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes.

Yoongi snatched the phone from your hand and quickly snapped a photo of the screen with his own, then he silenced yours and went into it, blocking the number who tried to reach you. He called Branson over and showed him the photo, letting the head of security take his phone with him.

“Trace this, or, do something. Tell me who's number this is,” his voice is stern, on alert.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you said, laying your head down on his shoulder. “People get scam calls all the time.”

“Not us,” he said, tone flat.

Not even ten minutes passed before Branson came back, kneeling on the row of chairs in front of your family. He placed his elbows on the head rests and took a deep breath, darting his eyes back and forth from Yoongi to yours.

“Well?” Yoongi asked. Branson handed him his phone and frowned.

“Uh,” he stumbled over a few words, unsure of how to say what he needed to say. “We, um… The phone number belongs to your mother.” His voice is hushed, quiet, like he was afraid to tell you, when in actuality he was afraid to tell Yoongi. Touchy subject. Especially now.

There had been a restraining order set in place since the day after your daughter's first birthday. Yoongi held the meetings and took care of everything, all you had to do was sign. 

Neither one of your parents were allowed to contact you, speak to you or your daughter, or try to see you in person. They were not allowed to mail anything to you, send anyone to see you in place of themselves, nor were they allowed to be in touch with anyone close to you. Sunny included. You had to make a list.

Expecting him to jump out of his seat, you stretch a hand over his lap and grab his other hand, the one on your daughter's back. Sitting up, you turn toward him ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression. It had not faltered. He was stone faced, and you were sick to your stomach.

“Sue her,” he said. Turning to you, he sighed. “We’re changing your number again.”

“D, come on, it’s not like-”

“I don’t care,” he said, peering down to admire his daughter. “She clearly hasn’t gotten the message that you don’t want anything to do with her.” He pointed his focus back to Branson. “Fight it. Do what you can.”

“Got it,” the guard said, and whisked himself away.

It’s quiet for a moment before Yoongi said, “Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not defending her,” you said, and he raised a brow, giving you a funny look. “It’s just… Super annoying to give everyone a new phone number for the third time.” Both your lips turn up into a smile. “Sue the bitch, I don’t care, D.” Yoongi laughs. “Just don’t make me change my number again, I beg of you.”

“Alright,” he said. “No new number. BUT!” His raised volume made your daughter stir. “One more thing happens, you’re changing it.” The little one lifted her head, blinking a few times before she grinned at her father.

“Fine,” you whispered, not that he was paying attention anymore anyway. Your daughter took his full focus, and all of his kisses. 

It seemed silly to just now realize that today was something of a confirmation of the last eight years. Living your life, being a secret to millions of others, while you and the people you cared most about knew, was nice, and secure, and peaceful. But, now… Now that everyone knew, the peace grew. It swallowed you whole, engulfing you and your family with stability and ease.

No more accidental reveals. No more false stories. No more rumors the company had to shut down. No more hiding.

You were absolutely free, and for now, that was everything.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece! 

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

support my art here! <3

vegas tags <3 (i realize on the last post i missed some of you, i'm so sorry.) <3

@jewelrnicorn @yoongisducky @all-american-fangirl @funkylittlebisexuall @ahewlett @damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place

[mikaelsrose]

abh theory time🧐👻

(pic by @asilyn04)

Raphael, Mikael, and Cassiel are obviously Archangels. The word "Father" is always capitalised when they say it, and together with the fact that the father is so important, I'm convinced the father is God. This, in turn, would make the guys' bosses either Seraphims, Thrones or Cherubims (although I'm not convinced about Cherubims. Cherubims work right next to God so the management could be them but I'm gonna wait until the next update before I form a definitive theory).

We've seen Raphael's angel form so there's no point in speculating about it anymore, but when it comes to Mikael and Cassiel there's a lot to talk about.

In chapter 6, Audrey asks Mikael if he found a trace in Claudia's home, and he says he did, but that it doesn't concern the case—does that mean he found a trace of his father?

Mikael:

The voice in Audrey's dream describes Mikael’s true face by saying he's cold and calculating, that he stops at nothing to achieve his plan, and that he sits on a throne on a mountain of corpses which, to me, is already a confirmation he is the biblical archangel. It was stated in his file that the responsibilities don't burden him, that he knows everything that happens in the manor, and that it's very hard to get him to lose his cool—just as it would be in god's second in command.

the chief of the angels and archangels.

He is considered a champion of justice, a healer of the sick.

It's telling how important Audrey is, then, since he loses his cool within a week of hiring her:

HOWEVER, since he hasn't been revealed to have wings and a halo unlike raphael, I'm thinking he could be a fallen angel.

I find it interesting that Mikael's inability to heal mental wounds is emphasised twice (before visiting Claudia and after healing Audrey) because—as @secret-fungi noticed—wouldn’t “he who is like God” be able to deal with something like this? Is this the price of his fall?

Furthermore, the fact Mikael mentions father testing him again makes me fairly certain that his father has already sent dozens of such cruel tests/punishments at him to give him a chance to prove he is worthy of a second chance—which is what I think his link to Felonia is.

Now, this is 100% a maaaassive stretch but hear me out. All we know about Felonia is that she's done a lot of bad things, she tries to earn a second chance from (probably) god, and that she has no friends or family left. My theory is that the Astrea employee that Cassiel failed to protect was related to Fel. That would explain why she doesn't get along with the guys and, if that employee was also a victim of the Beast, why she's “forced” to work with them.

Her bad relationship with Mikael being emphasised indicates two things:

She's done something very evil

It's another confirmation that Mikael as the “champion of justice” can't accept her disobedience and that's why he treats her so coolly.

Appearance-wise Archangels Raphael and Mikael look similar to our Raph and Mikael (okay, maybe just hair-wise but. Still!)

Cassiel:

Coming back to the voice in Audrey's dream’s descriptions, let's look at Cassiel's. The voice says Cas is always deep in thought, brooding and protective.

Archangel Cassiel is the angel patron of those overlooked, of orphaned children and enslaved people (which is why he feels so sad after spending time with Audrey and why he's so protective of her):

"Out of the darkness came light, and from that light were born the archangels, those who would lead the orders of God’s angels; those who would perform the most important tasks in God’s great plan for his greatest creation, mankind."

It was revealed in the last update that Audrey spent her early childhood in a religious sect, then was placed in an orphanage at the monastery, and while studying in college she didn't get to unwind too often. It's also said she's always felt terribly lonely—no wonder Cassiel is so protective of her.

During this update, Cas called ‘god’ Father, which could mean two things:

A confirmation that him, Raph, and Mikael are brothers > if they're all Archangels then in a “all angels are one big family” sense.

Mikael was tasked with finding Father and got to assemble his own avenger squad himself.

The question of Cas’ eyes remains—if he's an angel/archangel/heavenly being, why do they turn red?

Raphael:

Archangel Raphael is the voice of god which we saw in chapter two already. It's emphasised that his voice changes and he has trouble pronouncing words when Audrey eavesdrops on him—I believe that's when his father was speaking through him.

I've also been thinking about this emphasis on Raphael being condemned to death by his Father, and so far, that's all I've found:

Raphaël name means "God heals." This identity came about because of the biblical story that claims he "healed" the earth when it was defiled by the sins of the fallen angels in the apocryphal book of Enoch.

I think his death might be dependable on your stats and choices. There could be a good and a bad ending for him, for instance on high reputation he survives and doesn't have to die because you managed to defeat the beast, and on low reputation he dies for the sins of his brothers who lost the battle.

Now, look at this:

He is also a Patron of young people, Godly love, and people suffering from nightmares that may need protection that is supernatural.

After the poisoning, Mikael asks Audrey about her nightmares and whether he can help. I think Raphael could help her. Easily. But I'm also fairly certain they're looking for something in her nightmares OR the nightmares are necessary for Audrey to learn something.

So far that's all I have (I probably forgot about something). Shout out to @agattthaa and @secret-fungi 🦄

[sunshine-theseus]

sorry for being gone

hey guys i just want to come and be sort of explain why I just dropped off the face of the earth😭

first off, I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long, and with out any warning. I can't even remember the last time i posted. i was in the middle of writing the next Kyra story and things started just getting away from me.

as you know i had a class i had to retake over the summer, and i found out i failed it again by 6 points. my morale kind of started dropping then, because I thought I'd finally gotten past that class and would never have to do it again. it's always been so draining and to have to repeat again is not something I think I can handle. I've started counselling sessions with my uni to help me with that because my mental health has only gotten worse since starting uni last year. I've also looked into actually trying to get tested for ADHD or autism in hopes that it will help me understand why I struggle so much within a school structure; I've suspected I've had one or the other for a few years now, but getting it tested hasn't been on the table. I'm still not really sure it is

additionally to that, I thought I had a longer break between the summer class and the start of this year than I actually did, so I had to enrol last minute for my classes and I've been struggling to keep on top of all the content.

there's also just been a lot of family things happening.

my goal when I started this account was to produce a story once or twice a week, but clearly that is not a workload I can continue to meet. I knew it was a high expectation of myself already but there was a point where I had so much creative energy and momentum that I thought it was easy.

with that said, I will be finishing the Kyra x ND reader + one I've decided on myself, but there will not be a timeline set for that. I'm sorry about the Sincy fic, I was really looking forward to it when I accepted, but I think I need a blank slate. the reason I'll be finishing the Kyra one is because I've started it already and I want to be able to provide ND readers and opportunity to see themselves.

I think I may set more parameters for requests when I open them back up again. I might ask you to at least provide a genre or snippet/background of what you want to story to entail. idk we'll see.

thank you guys who have stuck around.

[wytfut]

My old friend...

Right off the bat... I'm going to admit to myself everyone that reads my running journal here, is tired of hearing about my health/booboos/back pain.

I get it. So am I. With that, don't feel guilty about leaving this entry within the first 2 paragraphs. right now.... no feelings hurt. I'm just writing, as I feel good when I'm done.

I'm almost tempted to start a separate diary, just on my health issues if this continues.

.........

As stated before, I've pretty much been in some sort of paint since 2000 (not sure anymore, but thats a close guess). Sharp, deep, knawing, electric, heart stopping, .... pretty much had it all. Its not near all that above. 80%+ of the time, I just know its there, keeping me company, and reminding, me that it isn't going to go anywhere.

This time line includes the 15+ years of hip issues. Several years of carpal tunnel, and now this for the past who knows how long.

Sidenote: Since I've had recognized back pain... I'm starting to think, I've had back pain for several decades. The pain back then I'd just attribute to age, or just tired. I've been rethinking this... most likely much to much.

At 71 now, its easy to get confused, especially with pain. Where does it hurt. How bad does it hurt. What kind of pain. etc... my old friend pain. Always ready for a good time.

I've reported here before what I felt was the truth. Even though I was most likely guessing, as I wouldn't have enough information from the right people to fill in the gaps.

Also, pretty sure I'm a whiner to some degree. Let the reader determine how much. Just putting all of this nonsense in print just proves the title whiner..

......

Roughly 5 weeks ago still battling my Minnesota incidents, they gave me a steroid injection. Reality set in when I got the call from nurse, to evaluate how I was feeling from the injection.

I stated here, that I thought the injection was to target the area in question to seek further surgery or what ever.

Turns out, it was a move to see if an injection would get me by. On day 28 report to the nurse, I was definitely feeling much better.... on back pain issues... or so I thought. To be honest, somedays any pain is just pain, that can't be filtered/defined.

The nurse reported back that the Dr. was very happy with that news, and let them know if anything happens of note. This reply was a huge disappointment to what I had been dwelling on since july. It was actually good news, but I wasn't thinking in thinking in that direction.

I've been participating in physical therapy for a couple weeks now, and have seen improvements. There is pain involved, but pretty sure its all due to waking up muscles that have been asleep for quite a while. Surprised how intense some of it is... but I'm going to keep trying.... what I have now isn't working.

With that thought..... last night it dawned on me that there is a severe pain, I encounter daily, but usually only once or twice a day for a second or 2. Rolling over in bed, pulling up my pants, trying to arch for therapy, and reaching over my head.

Everyone of those moves enacts a lightning bolt blinding pain thru pretty much my whole body, but basing right at the small of my back. I've learned not to reach. Therapy told me NOT to arch. Pulling up my pants once a day, is killer first thing in the morning. And the few times I roll over in bed during the night.

Called the office today to report this. It isn't muscle pain, and it hasn't been masked by the steroid injection. From where I sit, I think its a big deal..

I don't seek surgery. But this isn't working. And I'm no expert on answers.

.....

All this has me at the most weight I have ever weighed in my life. I've never been this weak/no muscle tone/soft.

I make efforts everyday to get up and try to do something physical everyday.

Somedays I get a lot more things done than others.

Somedays I'm exhausted within a few minutes.

All of that guided by how much pain I'm in at the moment.

It took me close to 3 weeks to tape the last episode of my youtube channel. Something if I felt good, would been done in 2 days.

I replaced the rear axle on my tractor... something that would took at most 1 day.... I took almost a week.

Washing my truck on a bad day wipes me out for a couple of days.

A lot of days I couldn't unload the dish washer, and if I did, I'd be gasping for air.

I really hate this "walker". Tired of trying to remember the logistics of having it, let alone to bring it along. Its a great walker, but its an anchor in my life. A cool thing with a walker.... a lot of people are very cognoscente of people who are using them. Hold a door, offer a hand, etc. .... Nice to see there are still folks like that out there.

.......

Xmas screaming towards me. I'll wait to see what the office has to say. No way am I going to do surgery or anything else exceptional before Xmas.

Need this to all to settle. I need to loose weight, and tone up. I'll do what ever the therapy folks feel I need to do. One of them quoted to me, the session is supposed to be 6 weeks long and I'm in week 3 now. I've got a long ways to go in a short period.

It was suggested in week one to try doing my excercises 2 a day. But were fine with 1. This past monday, I jumped it to twice a day. I couldn't finish second set... noodle legs. And now currently I can't do any of them. This all makes me feel very lazy. And maybe, just maybe I am.... And I know a person needs to push thru pain....

Did that in Minnesota.... and collapsed. ..

......

Finally got an answer to why/what happened to me in minnesota. No one I asked would even guess.

PA for my surgeon believes my disk in trouble was getting worse, and it just happened to happen while I was in minnesota. As that week went, my pain level, and weakness compounded daily. But I pushed on. Finally something overrode, and completely shut down my legs. I wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. No hiking, multiple stair climbing, walking long distances, pushing heavy items.... none of that. I barely had any alcohol any one of those days (1 maybe 2, sometimes none). Same with cigars.

I'll wait patiently. Do my exercises as I can. And try to be reasonable. Wish me luck.

......

Interesting side story. Yesterday Buddy Rob and I went down to Humbolt Nebraski, to purchase a car for my Son Josh, next project.

Purchase was made, and we wanted to haul some items home yesterday, and pick up the rest on this coming Sunday. Its a lot of stuff.... this car is a basket project. Parts Parts parts everywhere.

Rob and I both are old school guys, and just cannot stand aside, watching people physically working. We loaded 2 engines, 1 tranny, plus some more heavy stuff.

Rob is still very fresh out of back surgery. And I'm struggling to walk. The seller/owner was older than us. It had to be a madcap scene watching everyone, trying not to hurt ourselves. I yelled at Rob at least once. He wasn't comfortable with what I was doing a couple of times. And the old gent was having to stop to get a break in here and there.

Rob/I had a system worked out. If it was heavy, he'd get it hauled on a cart to me. Me standing by pickup, would pick it up and place in pick up. At first, it was pretty ugly, but we got it figured out.

As the saying says..... "getting old isn't for the weak of heart'

[addictedtostorytelling]

hi aj! i finished my rewatch, finally 😭 ended with 9.10. something i noticed: in 9.08 grissom goes to that old fashioned gambling place and the guys at the poker table tell them they haven’t seen him in 2 years. then he tells catherine he didn’t even remember the last time he played. my headcanon is that he basically accidentally stopped going once he and sara started maybe living together? idk if that works with the timeline of the show so i wondered if you had any thoughts over that poker thing. 9.10 is my happy ending btw. i don’t care what happened afterwards 🥹💘 hope you’re having a good week!

hi, rewatch anon!

good to hear from you again! and congratulations on finishing your rewatch.

re: your question:

obviously, within the universe of the show, we get very little information to go on when it comes to grissom's involvement with sheriff montgomery's poker games.

while the audience is introduced to the fact that grissom was once a semiprofessional poker player early on in the series (specifically in episode 03x01 "revenge is best served cold," when he speaks of using his poker winnings to finance a body farm in college), prior to episode 09x08 "young man with a horn," his days as a player are always something spoken of in the past tense—i.e., as an activity he participated in in his youth but hasn't pursued much since ("well, poker's not a game of interaction. it's a game of observation. i used to study people, and then i guess i, uh, got bored. now i study evidence").

though in episode 04x15 "early rollout," he mentions watching the world series of poker, we are given no indication at any time throughout s1-s8 that grissom is ever involved in currently playing poker, much less that he is in the habit of doing so semiregularly or regularly with a bunch of vegas old timers.

that information comes only in episode 09x08 "young man with a horn"—and even then, retroactively, with the indication being that grissom used to be involved in sheriff montgomery's games, enough so for the waitstaff at the gambling hall to know him and for him to be welcomed by the other players, even after a two-year absence from the game.

what form grissom's participation in sheriff montgomery's games took back then isn't specified—was he a weekly player? a monthly player? someone who turned up occasionally, schedule permitting? who played only once or twice but left a significant impression during his brief "career"? and when he played, how did he fare? how often did he win or lose? how did the other players regard him? what kind of reputation did he have?—so we can't really speak to that context.

unfortunately, trying to pin down the "when?" of it all is only somewhat more doable.

since we have grissom telling warrick in s3 that after college, he gave poker up due to disinterest, we can say he most likely isn't involved in the games during s1-s3.

however, when and why he supposedly becomes involved with them after that point, we can't really say.

all we know is that he (seemingly) sometime after s3 becomes a presence at sheriff montgomery's table, only to then give up playing again roughly two years prior to the events of episode 09x08 "young man with a horn."

within the universe of the show, episode 09x08 "young man with a horn" takes place in december '08—regrettably, i do not have an exact calendar day for the episode, though i can say it probably happens closer to the end of the month than the beginning—so two years prior would fall in 2006.

if we go very literal, exactly two years prior would be near the end of december '06, which canonically falls in-between the events of episodes 07x10 "loco motives" (12.06.6-12.08.06) and 07x11 "leaving las vegas" (01.04.07)—i.e., circa the time when grissom is preparing to go on his sabbatical from the lab to teach at williams college in massachusetts.

so looking for a reason why grissom stops playing poker, we could potentially ascribe him giving up the game (for the second time) either to the emotional/professional/social burnout he experiences throughout the beginning half of s7 and/or to him getting out of the habit when he goes to williams college (and just never picking back up again, even after his return to vegas).

and, of course, his relationship with sara could definitely factor into such a scenario—like maybe once grissom finally gets back to vegas after those five long weeks spent away, his inclination in the immediate aftermath of his return is just to spend every waking moment when he isn't at work with her (given how intensely he missed her while he was gone), and so he doesn't immediately resume attending the games, and then things get rolling with the miniature killer investigation again, and before you know it, sara's been abducted, and then he's nursing her back to health at home for four and a half months, and one thing leads to another, and pretty soon, two years have passed, and he hasn't played cards all the while.

that said, if we allow for some slippage with sheriff montgomery's "two years" quip, plus six or eight months or so—because, after all, people often truncate—then our possibilities open up a bit more.

while of course we don't know exactly when grissom and sara first get a place together, "sometime just prior to or during s6" seems like a pretty safe bet.

the first half of s6 takes place during 2005, the second during 2006 (with the divider episode being episode 06x11 "werewolves," which takes place within the universe of the show on 01.03.06).

so if by that measure we include the back half of s6 within our "realm of possibility" for when grissom plays his last poker game with the sheriff, then that period would therefore most likely coincide with when he and sara are living together (as there is fairly strong evidence to suggest that they are indeed living together by the time the events of episode 06x24 "way to go" take place, if not much earlier).

that so, i would say your "maybe grissom stops going to poker games with the fellas because he's settled down with sara" theory is definitely a real possibility.

plausibility, even.

of course, all of the above said, the idea of grissom playing regular poker games at any point during the early seasons of the show, even before he moves in with sara, is one that is somewhat hard to believe and feels like something of an inelegant contrivance on the parts of the writers for the sake of making the plot of episode 09x08 "young man with a horn" work.

first of all, just on a logistical level, the games most likely take place either during grissom's regular sleeping or night shift hours—as grissom tells the sheriff in episode 09x08 "young man with a horn," he is technically on the clock when he shows up to the gambling hall—so when would he find time to play (particularly workaholic that he is)?

secondly, from a characterization perspective, while grissom is a skilled poker player and used to play semiprofessionally while he was younger, he wasn't ever really a recreational player; rather, he played with the express purpose of winning money to finance his romantic relationship with his college girlfriend and his body farm, meaning he had a goal he was working toward; a utilitarian reason to take those monetary risks.

no doubt that poker is in some ways fun for him—and god knows he's good enough at concealing his emotions that he probably runs the table playing, more often than not—but still: it's hard to imagine someone as pragmatic as he is involving himself in a game with a $500 buy-in just for shits and giggles on an even semiregular basis.

as warrick points out in episode 03x01 "revenge is best served cold," poker is a game of skill more than a game of chance.

all the same, it isn't without its hazards.

a bad hand is a bad hand, you know?

grissom's skill notwithstanding—he does easily win the game in episode 09x08 "young man with a horn"—the vegas old timers at sheriff montgomery's table are not unskilled themselves, meaning he is definitely not guaranteed to win every time.

would grissom, who is a generally careful and methodical person, really risk losing $500 (or more) on the regular, and particularly when he no longer had any kind of financial motivation to engage in such risky behavior, like he did in college?

while a twentysomething grissom trying to woo his girlfriend and foot the startup costs on a body farm had good reason to try his hand that way (and particularly if he was playing against other college students and/or more inexperienced gamblers, whom he could easily fleece), would a forty- or fiftysomething, more established grissom really choose to go out on that particular limb week after week, especially against seasoned opponents?

the man isn't a compulsive gambler like warrick, so it's not as if he wouldn't be able to keep himself away.

i dunno, maybe it's just a me thing, but i just have a hard time picturing him sitting down to those games more than once every other blue moon or so, and especially since, as he indicates in s3, he has long since lost interest in studying the human element of the game, meaning playing no longer serves any purpose to him, either financial or "scientific."

to me, what we have here is a situation where the writers put in a throwaway line that doesn't really hold up upon scrutiny.

anyway, my quibbles with the idea of regular poker player grissom aside, as for my impressions of the poker scene more generally, the thing that has always stuck out to me is when the old timers are reminiscing about the women at the château rouge and mention how they all had "cute little ponytails."

though we don't get to see a reaction shot of grissom's face in response to that line, i can't help but imagine he's thinking of his own cute girl with a ponytail at that moment himself, remembering the first time he met her.

since the episode already contains more than a little gsr subtext (particularly in grissom and catherine's conversation at the end of the episode, with re: to grissom finding "the right girl"), i can't help but view that line as a very intentional kind of cue, a hint that grissom is thinking about "upping the ante" in his pursuit of sara.

—aaaand that's what i've got.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another one any time.

[aeternxm]

how long had they been down here in this dingy little room? an hour? two? few weeks maybe? shit -- takeshi's lost track of time. not because he's trapped, nah nah nah -- way better than that. and sure, takeshi could just say who he's got down here, but where's the fun in that? a swift kick to the ribs has a VERY special guest trying to curl up into a ball, rolling onto his back exposing a face beaten and bloody, barely recognizable. but takeshi knows exactly who it is -- peers down at the man with a look that can only be described as unbridled EXCITEMENT.

❝ havin' fun down there? ❞ the question is posed innocently, as if takeshi hasn't beaten him within an inch of his life every day for the last week. ❝ thought y' would be -- honestly. thought ya'd be so damn excited fer th' opportunity t' have a lil' role reversal. how many times was i down there till ya broke me in, huh? ten? twelve? ❞ the memories flash through his mind and once, they had caused takeshi pain. the begging, the pleading for him to stop -- i-i'll be better seunghyun, please jus' stop! please i -- i won't fuck up again! he remembers crying, curled up in a ball -- tears staining his face as he cried to his dead mother, like that bitch would be able to save him from his fate. prayed to his father -- like that coward had ever thought about anyone other than himself in his fuckin' life.

but now? shit -- those are fond memories, shit for the spank bank, yeah? seunghyun had gotten exactly what he wanted, putting takeshi through that shit. he'd broken him -- or at least that's what he'd say. nah, takeshi came out stronger, determined -- nothin' could fuckin' touch him now -- he was unstoppable.

and it's all thanks to seunghyun.

❝ should thank ya, really. if ya didn't do tha' -- well, fuck, who knows what would've happened. prob'ly still be me down there, huh? but i ain't yer fuckin' bitch anymore, seungie. m' better than ya -- always have been. jus' took some time fer me ta realize. ❞ he sneers, gathering a glob of spit in his mouth before lobbing it at the pathetic excuse of a man on the ground.

takeshi barely registers the sound of a door opening, heavy footsteps coming up behind him and a large hand sprawling itself across his back. takeshi knows who it is without even looking behind him, hums softly -- almost like he's content now that sukuna's here. ❝ here ta watch th' show, baby? ain't even started th' best part yet. was waitin' fer ya-- ❞ he doesn't give sukuna a chance to reply, doesn't feel like he needs to. sukuna knows that this is takeshi's moment -- knows just how long he's waited to do this. hell, the only reason the two of them had met had been because of takeshi finally putting his plan into action.

he steps off to the side to grab bertha. takeshi eyes the bat like it's some kind of long lost lover. she's gotten him through a lot -- feels some sorta connection to the thing. sure, it's just a bat -- there are other weapons that would be far more effective, but bertha ain't just any weapon, yanno? she's a special lady -- only the best for her!

takeshi casts his gaze down toward seunghyun again, watches with a bored expression as he tries to stand. he's kneeling, one foot flat on the ground, his hands braced on his leg as he tries to find the strength to stand. s'cute, really. that he thinks he has a chance of actually getting out of this alive, that he's still got some fight in him yet. but that's fine, let 'em think that -- takeshi'll beat that shit outta him in no time at all.

he swings bertha 'round once, twice, a third time before raising it above his head and swinging it down, a sick rush of adrenaline rushing through him as the barbs dig themselves into the flesh of seunghyun's calf. seunghyun screams, and all takeshi can do is laugh as he drags the bat back, watching as the flesh rips open and blood pours from the wounds. ❝ know yer fuckin' place -- seungie. trash stays right fuckin' there-- ❞ a kick to the other's side sends him toppling to the ground once again, and oh, takeshi can hear him sobbing and it's like music to his fuckin' ears. takeshi draws the bat back once again, letting it connect with the other's stomach and damn near MOANING at the blood splattering over his face and hands. seunghyun coughs, choking on his own blood that's pooling in his mouth.

❝ s'been so good havin' ya here , seungie. but yer jus' kinda borin' now -- yanno? ❞ a step forward, grin widening as seunghyun starts gargling out something -- begging, maybe? he looks scared enough. another step and he's trying to distance himself from takeshi, like that'll do him any good. ❝ i ain't got any use fer ya now. remember what ya taught me? if it ain't worth nothin' -- get rid of it. ❞ a sinister smile, as he catches seunghyun's gaze. takeshi looks behind him for a moment, sees the look on sukuna's face and oh -- he can tell, without a shadow of a fuckin' doubt that he's enjoying just as much as takeshi -- maybe even more. he's stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall lookin' every bit as handsome as ever. ❝ whaddya think, baby? should i put 'em outta his misery? ❞ an innocent look, like he's asking sukuna his opinion on what outfit he should wear for a night out. but sukuna's response is every bit as exciting as takeshi had hoped it would be. of course it was! god -- they were fuckin' perfect for each other, huh? real match made in hell--

show no mercy. he doesn't deserve it.

takeshi laughs as he turns back to the poor excuse of a man before him. ❝ hear tha'? i don't think sukuna likes ya too much -- tch, unlucky. ❞ takeshi closes what little distance there is between the two of them, fucks around by tapping seunghyun's forehead with the end of the bat, a pained ground as the barbed wire pierces the skin there. ❝ life's a game -- yeah? y' win some an' y' lose some. shame tha' ya lost. ❞ takeshi lines bertha up again, aiming for seunghyun's skull, taking a second to really appreciate the way he looks all beaten and bruised.

❝ 死ね-- ❞

[midwinter-whump]

LD Lab Rats Pt. 5

NEXT

Food poisoning,

Dinner took far too long to arrive. Liithal was used to eating every three hours, so after seven hours of being in a cell, and not having eaten for a few hours before that, she was starving.

It was the droid who came by and deposited ration sticks into compartments that the captives could access from inside the cells. Liithal's stomach growled at the thought of food, even in ration form. She picked it from her compartment, and sniffed it. It smelled sweaty. "Hey, um...." She looked over to Jay's cell, since he was the only person she could see, "He doesn't put anything in these, does he?"

"No, they're just plain old ration bars. They'll keep you from starving, keep you at a balanced diet, but they're bland and unsatisfying." He spun his own bar in his hand a couple times before biting into it.

'Balanced diet'? Liithal was a little worried about that. It had taken weeks for her to learn to navigate safe foods out in the galaxy. Meat was hidden in so many things she never expected, especially rations. But.... she was hungry and didn't have options.

Once the droid was gone, Liithal decided to make a plan while they ate. "How many of us are there?"

"Seven, including you." Jay's eyes fell, "I've only been here a couple weeks, but in that time three other prisoners died. Some of them are just too young to keep up with this kind of experimentation."

"What does he want with us? He told the Rebellion he was developing weapons to give us an upper hand!"

Jay paused, a knuckle to his mouth as he thought. "He has been working on a way to control Force sensitives. He already has a way to incapacitate us, but if he hasn't considered any of us suitable candidates yet. A lot of the tests have been combat trials and Force ability tests. He went through a lot of effort to take me, but after he realized I don't wield the Force anymore he moved me to the control group."

Liithal craned her head to look both ways down the hall, but no one else was within view. "If everyone here is Force sensitive, why can't we use that to break out?"

"Because they're all teenagers who've never been trained. What about you? Can you use it to open the cells?"

Liithal shook her head, "I'm not that talented. I can sense other people, and I used it a couple times to jump really high, but that's it."

"That's enough! I can teach you enough to break everyone out. We'll wait for your friends to get back and meet them. We'll begin after lights out."

-----------

Night came and the lights dimmed, but no training happened. Liithal's stomach roiled and burned. She curled on the floor to try to cool her fevered skin, and whimpered with every wave of pain. She could hear Jay shouting for help, but none came.

She was hit with a particularly strong wave of nausea and crawled over to the toilet and just leaned over it for a while. She felt warm and dizzy and everything else just fell away. Then her body took over. Her stomach clenched, sweat dripped, and suddenly she was expelling all the food and water from her stomach. Once. Twice. She threw up until she was dry heaving and sobbing.

Eventually she just laid back on the floor, her occasional heaving wasn't bringing up anything anyway. She was shivering now, and exhausted, and empty. She hated this. She was supposed to be getting ready for a breakout, not lying pathetic on the floor!

......

............She missed her friends. Sol had a way of scooping her up and holding her that made her feel protected, and then he'd make fun of her until she forgot anything was wrong. Rin was inspiring, and made Liithal feel ready to face the world head-on. And Jim..... was Jim. He would have laughed at that. He could make anyone smile during hard times.

As she fell into sleep, she prayed that they would come back soon.

[shiroi---kumo]

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Sielu says that he does not like any affectionate terms and he can only assume that the bits of language he has heard the Mistericans speak in recent weeks have been such things but in their own tongue. He surely could still stand such a thing in his own language, couldn't he? But he goes on to explain that he's positive if anyone from Gaudium or a woman he's not sure if he's net or not had gotten ahold of his name, that they would have used it in such a way that made him grow just a disgusted with it as he was words of affection.

Did they do that to Kumo then? He lived in Gaudium for a long time.

Sielu continues still to explain that the Celestial Mother is bound to Kumo by soul and she is alive within him and together they are bound by the Maken. He knew.... pieces of that somehow. He knew the Maken wasn't a normal weapon but he never pushed too hard for information but to hear that it's been since he was just a boy - somehow he can't say he's surprised even if he's sad to hear it's so.

"Kumo is awkward too." He begins. "I assume you weren't at Gaudium otherwise Kumo would have known... you don't need to answer that. I'm just speaking out loud. He was - he still is really awkward most days. He doesn't know how to interact with people sometimes and he can be painfully stubborn about handling things alone and by that I mean everything from his own problems to the well being of Wonderland as a whole. He - never asks for help. I wish he would."

The blond sighs a little as his shoulders slump while he thinks about it all and he really just wishes his friend would come to him when he needs him. Maybe Kumo doesn't need him.

"Do you think that's why Kumo doesn't use his own name anymore? Do you think someone from Gaudium got ahold of it? If you say that Misterican adulthood isn't until you're twenty five that means The Earl got his hands on him when he was only a kid. Twenty at most. I never knew he was a kid dealing with all that. I would have given my name too if I was a kid. I wouldn't have thought twice about it. I don't blame him for trusting blindly.

But I am glad to hear that he hasn't been completely alone. That your goddess.... Tiamat has been with him. He's always had a very religious air to him even if he doesn't openly talk to me about it much or really explain it. He's just always been so quiet. I guess that explains why. I'm sorry to hear you haven't had it very easy either, though living in Wonderland in general isn't easy but whatever you and Kumo went through I can only assume was hell.

There's no need to explain it to me. It's not my business. I won't make you relive it. It's the same reason I haven't asked Kumo what happened, even if when we found him he was a complete mess. He used to be our enemy, strangely enough. When he was with Gaudium, even if I don't really think with is the right word anymore. He protected us anyway and he almost died from it. He was such a wreck when we found him but I've never had it in me to ask.

I just patch him up and help him feel better, just the same as I did back then. It's all I can do. I just patch him up and make him stay in bed when he's sick. All I can do is take care of him, and even still sometimes I don't even know if that's enough."

There's a certain level of being troubled that seems to be winding itself onto Cid's face as he speaks.

Perhaps it's a sense of not being as close as previously assumed. He's gotten that one many times before about himself and others, but certainly having Sydän to fall back on made it feel at least a bit different than whatever exact emotion Cid is experiencing. Does the other have close friends or family he feels he can lean on?

"It's certainly not a crime to translate it. I suppose it just feels odd," he answers. "As for tainted, I... I would assume so. Certain words certainly are for me. Affectionate terms, for instance..."

He hasn't listed them before. He hasn't even come close. Then again, this is by far the most he's spoken at once in... years, probably, so it makes sense that not much has come up in regard to specifics.

"Like... Like 'darling', I cannot stand it. I'm sure if that woman or anyone else from Gaudium ever got my name, it'd be used in much the same way until I couldn't stand it either."

There. It's out there. There's no going back from having someone know now. Somehow, it gets rid of a little of the tension he carries in his shoulders. And then it's back to Lady Tiamat.

"She is bound to his soul. No formal prayer is needed. She is alive in him and both of them are bound together to the Maken - the Holy Blade. They have been since the day he turned thirteen. I am sure he still prays anyway when he is alone."

He doesn't go into the details. There is no sense in traumatizing this poor man with such a horrific recollection of a ritual. No, he'd much rather move on...

"He does speak of you with as much concern as he does the small human. If you... wanted the reassurance, anyway. He just does not talk about himself without the right poking. As for help, it's... appreciated, but not necessary. I think I will learn given time. I won't turn down the offer, though. It is just frustrating when I have so much to learn at once. Relearning how to move, speak, stand, fly... I hardly even recall how to purr and it's a natural function. This language is another item on the after-escape list, if that makes any sense. I was not with the others again until recently. I was isolated for nine years, so I am still awkward."

[iguana-eyanna]

The Beauty Within Everything

Pairing: preserum! Steve Rogers x 1940s! reader

Summary: reader thinks Steve stood her up on their date but realizes he’s very ill

Warnings: illness, decline of physical health, angst

You were walking on the sidewalk, fuming with every step you took in your heels, cursing under your breath to whoever invented these shoes.

You were on your way to confronting Steve, your boyfriend, at his place.

You think back to the first time you met Steve at a park. You both sat on the same bench as you were reading a sort of novel while Steve was drawing something on paper. The wind blew strongly as he lost his grip on the piece, flying beside your feet. You pick it up and give it to him, looking down to realize he was drawing you.

You both blush at each other as you complimented his talent and he commented on your beauty. Then on, you guys have been dating for a couple of months.

Now, you were beyond upset about Steve avoiding you for the past week. He promised to take you out on a date, but then stood you up on the very night. You tried calling his telephone but he never picked up the line. Now you arrived on his doorstep, knocking on the door loudly. What you didn't expect was for Bucky, his best friend, to greet you.

"Hi, angel face. What brings you here?" Bucky tiredly asked. "I can ask the same for you, it looks like you haven't slept in days." you replied. Before Bucky could rebut, you invite yourself in looking for any sign of your boyfriend.

"Now's not a good time to visit Steve, doll." Bucky says, trying to usher you out. "That charm won't work on me Bucky. I have been beyond worried about why Steve hasn't been responding to my calls. Is he alright?" You ask, not realizing a figure is shuffling to the two of you.

"You shouldn't have come." a voice croaked out, coughing afterward. You turn around and gasp lightly, looking at a very ill Steve. His skin was pale as snow, and it looked like he was prying to keep his eyes open for a bit longer. Steve tries to take another step but almost falls down to his knees.

You and Bucky catch him in time, as you could feel your boyfriend going limp in your arms. "Help me take him to his bed." Bucky gritted his teeth as he properly held Steve on his side. The both of you took him to his mattress as you opened his blankets so Bucky can tuck in his friend. Steve's eyes were partly closed, but you both can tell he was drifting off to sleep. You sweep his hair out of his eyes and then follow Bucky to the living room.

"What happened?" you whispered lightly, trying not to wake him up. Bucky looks down to the ground, not wanting to break the news to you. "When Steve was a kid, the doctor said that he has a weak immune and respiratory system. Since then, he's had a lot of fevers in a span of months, up to the point where he contracts pneumonia twice a year. I've been staying with him for the past week in case something happens." You sit on a nearby chair, feeling your heart aching for Steve's health.

"This has been going on for years? Why hasn't he said anything? I would have understood if-" Bucky rolls his eyes and sits next to you. "You know him, he's stubborn as a piece of wood. But I think he was scared you'd reject him." Bucky sadly admitted. You stare at a nearby window, trying to think.

You stood up and grabbed your purse "I'll go to the market to buy some things. I'll take care of him. You need to go home and get some rest." Bucky was too tired to fight you on it, so he waited for your return.

You came back with bags of groceries as Bucky helped you carry them to the empty fridge. Before he left, he gave you instructions on how to help steve if he had a coughing fit or if he wasn't able to hold himself.

"Remember, he may have the will of ten men, but he's delicate." You nod your head and lock the door once Barnes leaves. You then started making a pot of your signature soup to pass time in case Steve wakes. Suddenly you hear him coughing uncontrollably, so you turned off the fire and grabbed a glass of water.

Seeing him sitting up with his chest heaving made your heartstrings pull. You then tended to him as you offered to Steve the cup that he gradually took.

Once his breathing slows to a normal rhythm, he looks up to you with such heartbreak. "You should go, I don't want to be a burden." he said the best he could.

You sit in front of him by the foot of the bed, ready to scold the living heck out of him. "I am not going anywhere, mister. You still owe me an apology for standing me up this past week. I was worried sick, Steve. Why would you keep this from me?"

“Cause I didn't want you to be looking at me like this." He replied in a small voice.

"You know I would have understood, you shouldn't have kept me in the dark." You told him, not breaking eye contact. Steve's eyes begin to water and cleaned them away with his sleeve.

"When I recently got sick, I realized something. I’m not the man who could carry you in my arms and kiss you with every ounce in my body without wheezing. I'm not the man who's able to provide for you, like giving you pretty dresses or sweet-smelling perfumes. Heck, I can't even afford you a rose” Steve said as his voice was breaking.

"And now you're spending your money to feed your poor pathetic boyfriend back to health. Can't you see I'm nothing but trouble for you?" He concludes, staring at you. You pause for a bit, reflecting on the words he uttered from his mouth.

"Not once have I ever thought you were weak, Steve. Dear God, I think you're one of the bravest men I know. So please, don't bring yourself down because you can't perform these things you've fantasized about doing. I have never cared for extravagant gifts and just having you in my life is more than enough. You taught me so much about life and the beauty within everything around me. That's why I..." you close in to take his hand on top of your beating heart.

"I love you. I love you so much that it hurts me to think you can't rely on me when you're in so much pain. So please Steve, don't push me away when we both know we were made for each other."

Steve's face softens as he begins to cry. You begin to tear up as you pull him into your chest, comforting him with all that you could give.

"What did I deserve to be with you?" he hiccuped.

"Everything, love. Everything, and more." you replied, lightly combing the back of his hair with your fingers.

Steve lets go of you and wiped away his tears, regaining his breath.

“How can I make up for the past week?” he asks, knitting his eyebrows with determination.

“You can make it up to me by telling the truth from now on. No more secrets between us. And I am nursing you back to health, starting with a soup I just made.” You told him.

Steve nods his head and feels his stomach rumble just from the mention of food. "Well, I am hungry." he sheepishly smiles. You laugh at his reply and got up to fetch a bowl of soup. You return back with the food and Steve holds his hand to feel the warmth of the bowl. Once he starts consuming it, his eyes roll to the back of his head and almost made a moaning sound.

"This is the most amazing meal I've had in a long time." Steve announced, making you laugh harder. He's happy that he made you smile, realizing how much he missed hearing the sound of your voice.

She was his rock, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[planettnibiruu]

Solomon's kinda a bastard. P3

(Brothers x mc)

P1, P2

TW//teeth rotting fluff, panic attacks?, I'm a very emotional person so that means mc is 2, you get blown off briefly, lmk if I missed any//

It didn't take you long to get a hold of Asmo. The phone rang only twice before it was answered. 

"Heyyy~ How are you? Missing me? Of course you would!! I'm only the most beautiful demon in the whole world!" You could hear the smile through his voice, a pang of guilt struck as you realised it would be short lived.

 "Asmo I- the other day I got in a bad accident-" you could hear him hum,  "I'm fine now though, but that's the problem." 

"Sweetie if you want attention you can just ask." A chuckle Interrupts the sentence. "I'd be more than happy to provide, you don't need to act injured." You now picture his big pretty eyes battering up at you as smirks. Sweet words dripping from his lips like syrup. Even though the thought is pretty, a bitter taste fills your mouth

How could he not get it, seriously. The 7 of them preach all this bullshit about being there for you but here you are. Lord, sometimes you could smack those boys upside the head.

"Asmo I was seriously hurt, broken bones, bruises, the whole sha-bang. But within three days I was fine, it's humanly impossible." You feel like you're pleading for him to understand. Whatever's happening makes your skin crawl, you don't feel human any more. 

 "Well you are a pretty extraordinary human My love," he ends his sentence with a high pitched hum, as if he was proud about the fact his head was as thicc as your ass.

 "Asmo. Something is wrong. I need your and your brothers' help to figure out what. I should be dead, but I'm not," Your voice began to get shakey as you started talking faster and faster, "and I don't understand and I just need someone to help and I-" You were interpreted by a hiccup, shame bubbled in you chest at how pitiful you sounded. 

Asmo softly calls you name, "I'm sorry dear, I didn't realise you were this concerned. I'll talk to Lucifer about it, I'm sure it's nothing too bad. So don't worry your pretty little head, okay?" His words console you just little, even still, hot trails run down your face. 

You don't exactly know why you're so upset, it's probably more that you're overwhelmed than anything. You got to speak again, but the only thing that escapes is a horse squeak. It's as though cotton is clogging your mouth as your lips are cemented shut. The emotions you've bottled up are finally making themselves known. 

"Okay, talk to you soon As." 

You end the call as soon as his name falls from your lips. Making your way to the kitchen you fill a glass with ice and water, hoping to calm yourself. You remember reading something about humans not being able to cry while drinking.

 A bitter chuckle bubbles past your lips. 'Lu will know what to do, by the end of the week ill get to the bottom of this, and it'll be like it never happened. I'll be fine.'

You look down at your should-be-broken arm.

'I'll be fine'

---

Even after calling Asmo, you feel funny. Everything is so real and so fake at the same time. Your hands don't feel like your own and your face seems unfamiliar. It's as if you're someone's stuffed bear, head full of cotton, eyes looking but not seeing and no real control over yourself. You find yourself staring at the books on Satan's shelves rather than listening to the first, second, fourth and fifth born talking.

"But even then, this is unnatural. There's no logical way they could heal this fast." 

"What?? Ya want em to die!? Blonde fucking bastard."

"Nobody wants them to die, but Satan's right, this shouldn't have happened." 

"Then why did it happen? Don't tell me that my poor human is cursed or something!??" 

"I can't think of many curses that would do this. The ones I read about are more.... harmful than helpful." 

"Well, that's unless the negative side hasn't taken effect yet." "That is a possibility but-" 

"Hey!! Stop talkin bout possibilities and start talkin bout realities. Obviously sumthins up, so figure it out already." There's a brief pause, "Tch, whatever, let's get outta here." 

A warm, large hand wraps around your hand and pulls. You stumble as you're being dragged along, protests in the background fading as you leave the room. While you're walking you get lost in the motion, solely focusing on moving forward. 

Your body hits something firm, but not hard. Looking up you realise you've run straight into a certain white haired demon. 

"Oi!! You can't just- gah- watch ya self human." Mammons backed up several steps, a dark blush dusting his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

"Oh, sorry mam. Didn't mean to, I just don't feel too good right now." You waddle over to the couch, arms feeling foreign and heavy as you collapse into it. Grabbing a pillow you hug it to yourself as you settle in, pulling your legs up close. 

Eyes focused on the pillows pattern you don't feel the dip beside you. There's a moment of silence while both you and Mammon are lost in thought. You still feel funny, it's as if all sense of time is gone, 5 minutes and 5 hours starting to feel the same. It's almost as if you're playing a 1st person game rather than being a living person. The thought takes you down a winding path. That is, until a hand covers yours and squeezes.

"Look, I know ya worried. But I'm kinda glad that whatevers happenin is happenin. If you did die I…" He stops talking, going unnaturally quiet. You look over and see his teary eyes trained on your hands. He interlocks them and pulls you into his chest.

"I'm gonna do ya a favour, you can nap with me- but only beacuse ya actin like such a baby. Now shut up n sleep cuz you look like shit." Even though his words are harsh, the way he holds you isn't. Warm and strong arms rest on your waist and he lays down. Your head rests comfortable on his chest as your hands wrap around him in return. Mam shuffles you around and tangles your legs, further trapping you.

You shuffle slightly, getting comfortable in his tight grip. Everything sucks. Everything but the 7 dorks you have a pact with. It's ironic that demons are the best part of your life, but you suppose it can't be helped. 

Mam starts running his palm up and down your back, your head now tucked into his neck so you can't see the beat red blush covering his face. He's laying oddly still, worried that moving too much will make you leave, even though you never would. 

The door slamming open makes you jump, so much so that the only thing stopping you from falling is Mams reflexes. Sitting up you glare at Lucifer, who is standing in the doorway. 

"Mc, come here." He says, his voice unreadable and steady, but there's a little glint in his eyes that gives him away. A small bit of fear shining through his almost unbreakable mask. 

You drag yourself up from the comfortable spot, still feeling as if you're floating. "Did you figure it out?" 

"No, but there's a spell that should reveal whatever been put on you, it won't take a second." Your attention is redirected to Satan, who stands with a book in his hand. 

He holds his arm out in your general direction and starts muttering words that sound Latin, or some other long dead language. Your body feels slightly funny as he does so, a tingling sensation spreading from your fingertips up your arm, then to the rest of your body. It's not exactly pleasant but not exactly horrible. 

As soon as it starts, it's over. You shake your hands to get rid of the lingering sensation and glance up at Satan. You expect to see a satisfied grin, the look of someone who just cracked a mystery that no one else could. He always did like feeling as if he's the smartest on in the room. You were wrong though. Satan looks as if he's been slapped. Cheeks slightly pale, eyes wider and they stare off into space and his lips slightly parted. 

"I- no that can't be right. The spell is probably incorrect. You aren't- you can't be," His attention had been drawn to the book again, furiously scanning the pages and rereading the information, he mutters the spell quietly to himself, double checking the words.

"What do ya mean, what did the spell say? C'mon ya can't leave us hanging like that." Mams now standing next to you, redness still clinging to the apples of his cheeks. 

Satan looks up at you, he looks sorry, scared, guilty. Eyebrows furrowed slightly and eyes soft. "I think you're immortal….. That's why you aren't dead. Though it should be impossible, it's such a complex spell no low lev-"

All you can hear is a high pitched ringing. Your eyes start to tear up and a sob rips it's way violently from your chest. You reach out, gripping onto a soft velvet fabric which you think could be Lucifer. All control slips from your grasp as you collapse into the warm body. Your chest shaking, seemingly never ending waterfalls cascading down your face. 

'Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck"

Tag list; @theeonlyroman @kadythethief

[harmonizingsunsets]

I'd Rather Go Blind & Let My Body Go Numb Than To Lose You Or The Weight Of Your Love

Prompt: Jealousy and all its cousins. Fanart Credit here.

Read on Archive here.

Anthony never thought he'd be the kind of husband who needs to know where his wife is at every moment of every day.

(To be fair, he never thought about being a husband much at all until the season he'd pursued Edwina only to fall maddeningly in love with Kate).

But here he is, sitting on the couch with his feet drumming loudly against the floor, staring intensely at the door.

On the table beside the couch sits a cup of tea, cold and untouched. Anthony had someone from the kitchens prepare it for him, but his nerves made him unable to stomach anything.

Anthony looks a mess. He'd been raking his hands through his hair for the past two hours. He'd also slapped his cheeks once or twice to stay awake.

His jacket lay discarded and wrinkled on the ground near the door. He feels guilty, knowing one of the maids would have to press it. However, he can't gather the desire to move from the couch and retrieve it. 

Instead, he's glued to the couch as he considers where Kate is. A hundred different scenarios run through his mind—each scenario worse than the last.

For the past month, Kate has been disappearing at night. He hears her footsteps tiptoeing past his study when he stays up to work. He feels the weight from her side of the bed lessen as she stands and departs from their bedroom when she thinks he's fallen asleep.

At first, Anthony questioned her about it. Kate would always make up an excuse about needing fresh air or going to see Edwina. But he knows her well enough to know when she's lying.

However, Anthony hadn't ever called Kate out on her deceit. He feared the truth, especially how it might crush him to hear it.

But he couldn't take the not knowing anymore. So when he heard the door close after Kate told him five minutes prior that she was retiring to bed, he made his way towards the front of the house. Anthony watched at the window as a carriage rode away. A hole had formed in his stomach, making him feel hollow. He then sat down on the couch so he could catch her when she returned.

Finally, after what felt like ages passed, he hears footsteps approaching the door. He quickly jumps up from the couch and makes his way to the foyer. When Kate steps through the door, her eyes widen.

"Anthony!" she exclaims in surprise, putting a hand to her chest to steady her breath. "You're up late."

"So are you," Anthony says, crossing his arms and blocking her way.

"I was only walking around to get some fresh air."

Anthony raises a brow. "Really, for two hours?"

Her eyes shift anxiously from his stare. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes," he answers through gritted teeth, anger rising within him.

"Oh well, it was such a lovely night the time got away from me." Kate stands on her toes, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "Sorry for worrying you."

As she tries to retreat, Anthony's hand lurches out to grab her elbow, pulling her back to face him.

"I've had enough, Kate," he sighs tiredly. "Where were you?"

"I just told you, I was—."

"You've been going out for fresh air at odd hours of the day for the past month. You'd think you'd have your fill by now."

Kate fidgets. "Well, it hasn't just been out to get fresh air. I've been attending engagements. I have a life outside you and this household, you know."

"Oh, I know that, but your engagements don't usually take place after dark and don't require you sneaking out of the house to attend."

"Darling, everything is fine," Kate says, pulling her arm out of his reach and giving him a nervous smile. "You've probably been working too hard. Let's go to bed."

As she tries to walk away again, Anthony pulls her back. But this time, he holds onto both of her arms, forcing her to meet his eye.

"Kate, I know you—perhaps more than you know yourself, and I know when you're lying to me," he says, his voice turning softer—more fragile. It's as if he's a vase that could shatter at any moment. "What I don't know is why."

"I promise that what I have been going out and doing is not anything scandalous or dangerous." After letting out a long breath, a laugh bubbles from her throat in amusement. "Honestly, where I've been going to is nothing to fret over. You're acting as if I'm having an affair or something."

Anthony's heart sinks in his chest. No matter how ridiculous the prospect sounds, he can't help but whisper the question that's been plaguing his mind these past few weeks.

"Are you?"

Kate's mouth falls open, her face paling. "Anthony, how could you think that?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of," he says, stepping away from her and beginning to pace. "It explains why you've been coming back so late and being so evasive these past few weeks."

"Anthony—."

His legs go weak at the affection in her voice. Anthony falls to his knees in front of her and takes hold of her hands.

"Just tell me, Kate, I cannot bear it," Anthony says, hating the way his voice wavers. "I cannot bear the thought of you finding pleasure in someone else's arms. I cannot bear you leaving our bed because you'd rather be in another's. I cannot bear the idea of someone else touching you, loving you, or kissing you."

He brushes his lips against Kate's knuckles, causing her breath to hitch. Anthony pulls his lips away, but just so his fingertips can swirl circles on her palm. When his thumb skims over her pulse, he feels her heartbeat quicken.

"Most of all, I cannot bear the thought of you loving someone else." Anthony swallows thickly, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "I'd die right now if you told me all of this was true."

Anthony has always feared time. He used to compulsively reach into his pocket to grasp his father's watch. Each time a hand on the clock ticked forward, he felt as if an ounce of his soul got sucked away.

But since Kate came into his life, that fear has dissipated. Suddenly, he didn't spend each moment of his life calculating how much time he had left. Instead, Anthony began counting things other than seconds.

He counts the number of Kate's smiles. He counts the number of laughs they share next to one another at the table surrounded by his family. Anthony counts the number of kisses that were slow, stirring an aching feeling in his chest. He also counts each hungry and passionate kiss that sets every inch of his skin aflame.

Most of all, Anthony counts how many times he's lost count around her. He gets lost in the timeless and wonderful enigma that is Kate Sharma.

Anthony feels that fear of time creeping up on him again. But now, he's not afraid of time passing and leading to his demise. Instead, he's terrified that Kate's time of loving him has run out. Maybe, she's found a more deserving man to spend the minutes with than him.

When Anthony braves a glance up at Kate, he expects to see pity. But instead, he's surprised to see an entirely different emotion reflected in her eyes.

Love.

Pure, unconditional, steadfast love.

Kate gets down to her knees in front of him. But she doesn't let go of his hands, holding them tighter.

"None of that is true, Anthony," she says firmly. "I love you, have only loved you, and will only love you."

Her words release a breath of relief from him. But, he still can't help doubting this, not knowing how else to explain her odd disappearances.

Kate must sense his train of thoughts. She smiles gently, moving one of her hands up to graze his cheek.

"I love you so much that I've been waking up in the middle of the night so I can give you the perfect present."

Anthony blinks in confusion, feeling the room that had been spinning become still.

"What?"

Kate laughs, and she rests her forehead against his. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

It hits Anthony like a whip. All the clues that he'd gathered up to form a horrible conclusion were, in fact, clues that lead to a more justifiable and pleasant one.

"Our anniversary," he answers dumbly.

"Yes," she nods, her face beaming with a giddy kind of delight. Anthony feels lucky that he gets to see it. Her expressions are free without restraint only when she's comfortable with someone. He's glad to be one of those treasured few. "We've made it a year, can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday, I was stepping on your toes at a ball, and you acted like a madman when I got stung by a bee."

Anthony frowns, his forehead creasing. "I did not act like a madman."

"You did, but it led us to where we are now," Kate says, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Married and happy."

"I'd like to think it would've happened with the bee or not."

"I'm not sure. You were quite thick-headed about how in love with me you were."

"Oh, I'm the thick-headed one?" he scoffs. "After the night you fell in love with me, you gave your approval for me to marry your sister. How thick-headed is that?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd ever feel that way about me," Kate defends, rolling her eyes. "But I know very well now that you do. You show me with every kind word, every touch, every…" her words drift, cheeks reddening, "Well, you know."

Anthony smirks. "No, I do not know. Please elaborate on everything I do to you that gives you pleasure in vivid detail."

"You're insufferable," she grumbles and puts her hands on her hips. "I have a good mind not to tell you the true reason for my disappearing and keep you stewing in jealousy."

"I don't think you'd like the result of my increased jealousy."

"I don't know, your scowl was fierce, and the fire in your eyes was quite the sight," Kate teases, tracing her thumb over his furrowed brows. "Very becoming, actually."

Anthony stands and pulls her up with him, leading her to the couch. "Why have you been disappearing?"

"As I said, our anniversary is tomorrow, and I was getting your gift ready," she explains. "It's almost midnight. Perhaps I can give it to you a little bit early. I had one of the servants waiting outside for my return. They came in through the back entrance and have already snuck it into your study to reveal as a surprise for tomorrow."

"How sinister of you, plotting with our staff against me."

"Nothing sinister about it. I asked, and they agreed to help me. Unlike you, they think I'm perfectly agreeable."

"Obviously, they don't know you well enough to fear the wicked inner workings of your mind as I do."

Kate stands, gracefully sticking out her tongue and making him laugh. Anthony follows her down the hall into his study. She makes him close his eyes. He feels like a fool, stumbling into the room with Kate chuckling behind him. But, he feels guilty for thinking Kate could ever be unfaithful and indulges her wishes.

He waits for a few moments, hearing her moving something across the floor, before he asks, "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Alright, you bloody impatient man, open your eyes."

As Anthony takes his hands away from his eyes, his heart stops in his chest. He gawks at the painting on a canvas stand in front of him.

"Kate," he utters breathlessly.

Kate chews on her bottom lip, hesitantly watching him observe the painting—no, "painting" doesn't seem like the right word for what it is.

It's a masterpiece, an almost perfect depiction of Kate.

The artist captured the exact fraction that Kate's lips tilt up when she smiles in amusement. Anthony often sees that expression pointed towards him when they're engaged in one of their bantering matches. The color of her brown eyes is just as deep in the painting. They're full of so much that Anthony still wants to explore even after a year of marriage.

In the portrait, Kate's shoulders are bare, the sleeves resting low on her arm. The bottom of the picture shows the scarlet bodice of her dress. But the most alluring part is how the brown curls of her hair flow freely down her neck, cascading like a waterfall.

Anthony has a strong distaste for her bonnets and how society demands she wears her hair up in public. Anthony loves running his fingers through her hair, which probably is why she posed for the painting with it down. That minx knew it would stir a feeling within him that no one else but her has been able to elicit.

"I hired Sir Granville to paint it," Kate blurts out, nervous from how long he's remained silent. "I wanted him to paint it in a private setting because it's a bit…."

"Breathtaking," Anthony answers.

"I was going to say suggestive, but breathtaking is a good adjective," Kate grins bashfully. She steps towards him, her eyes glowing through the dim light of the room. "It's a portrait for your eyes only, no one else's."

Anthony ducks his head. "I'm sorry that I thought you were...I just—."

"Foolishly got jealous of a person who doesn't exist? Yes, yes, you did."

He runs his fingers against the frame of the painting. "I have a mind to hang this in the common area, so everyone can see how lucky I am."

Kate's eyebrows snap together. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he asks playfully.

"It might encourage some men to meet the woman behind the painting," Kate notes with a mischievous glint in her eyes, pretending to consider his proposal. "Who am I to oppose admirers?"

Anthony's smirk fades. "You wouldn't dare."

"Ah, there's that handsome scowl," Kate points at him in triumph.

He swoops forward, his arms going around her waist. "You're maddening."

Kate's smile widens as she looks up at him, looping her hands around his neck. "You love it."

"You're right. I do love you. And, I love this portrait," Anthony adds, bobbing his head towards the painting. "Perhaps I should hang it in here. It can serve as a reminder of what's waiting for me when I finish my work."

She leans up a bit on her toes, her hands traveling lower down his back. "You know, I could come down to your study to remind you."

Anthony begins moving his hands as well. As they skim up her body, brushing her breast, he relishes in the sound of her moan. Anthony leans closer, pressing kisses down her neck until he gets to just the right spot. Kate's fingers curl tighter onto his back as his lips apply pressure there, and her body gravitates further against him.

"You're far too distracting," Anthony murmurs against her skin. "Perhaps, the portrait is too dangerous to be in here. I'd get nothing done."

"Exactly." She leans her face back a margin, so Anthony can see that enchanting tilt of her lips the artist depicted. "Why do you think I commissioned the painting in the first place?"

"To torture me?"

"All is fair in love and war," Kate says, grinning at him. "And hasn't our relationship always been a bit of both?"

In response, Anthony kisses her deeply and thoroughly. The sound of his pocket watch ticking starts to fade away. It gets replaced with the sound of his heart, which beats for Kate more than himself these days.

[chromium7sky]

The Devil Wears Armani| chapter 11

A/n: amg, finally updated this one 😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖 you guys can follow this story with #damirae , #devilwearsarmani and #fashionistaau tag

2 weeks. It's been two weeks since the last video call. Raven have been pouring her attention on working the suit that she has planned for Damian Wayne to wear for the Gala.

She had done the cutting, the sewing and all, and what's left is doing the embroidery. She chosen the gold thread selectively which give the vivid glow and bring out the majestic value to the wearer.

The embroidery are complete within 95% thanks to a specified sewing machine which she bought with the price money she won before during the her first fashion competition. It helps alot.

The date of Gala approaching like crawling on the thread of time and for the final touch, she combined all the pieces into a handsome looking suit.

As she put the wardrobe on the mannequin, she took a step back and see it as a whole picture. With her both hands, she makes the photograph gesture to capture the feels of how Damian would look like if he wears them.

Contemplating and satisfied she felt after she iron the suit and store in special cover suit. She looked at the calendar and looks like she has extra two weeks before Gala.

Speaking of Gala, she wondered what would the dress look like since it was Damian who made for her? Would it be shoulder bare? Would it be one piece dress? Raven rubbed her chin as she wonder then she noticed herself on standing mirror. Slowly she spin to the left then to right as she look her body shape contour. If she was designing her own dress she probably went with thick fabric drape style. Simple, elegant and exclusive.

Her eyes glanced at the clock that's shows 10.30pm.

Wait.

She blink her eyes. How come she didn't thought of it. What would his design for herself? She did shown her sketches to Damian but won't he shown his? Curious, curious.

Raven imagine what if she asked, Damian would probably say, ' you don't trust me? Tsk tsk.' Raven sighed as her hand run down her face thinking about that. "Maybe I'll try to ask tomorrow."

Suddenly, a bleep sound indicate a message comes in. Raven blink then looked at her phone screen.

"Girl, You busy today?"

- Karen

It's been a while. Raven smiled then diligently answered the question.

"Not quite. Just finished designing a suit. What's up?"

She hit send.

Then came up another message on her inbox.

"We got party tomorrow at Viva La coast at Riverside. Wanna come?"

Raven narrowed her eyes then humming. Should she go or not? Perhaps she need a time off after that intense week. A little entertainment doesn't hurt.

"Sure. You pick me up?"

" For course, sis. 😘 See you at 8pm, tomorrow."

"On it.👌"

Raven smiled then landed on her bed. As she let out her relief sigh she put her phone at table nearby.

As she sleep, she dreamt of something pleasant. She's at fountain garden where surrounded by fragrance flowers and palm-like trees.

She notice her dress has gold accent along with silky texture clothes. Slowly her hands touched the dress she wear, felt it's smooth surface.

Her heart stop as she felt a hand holding her waist. Slowly she turn her head over her shoulder and -

BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP

Her eyes wide open as soon as she heard her phone alarm. She blink once then twice, trying to process her thoughts. When a sprinkle of dream remembrance filled in her her head, her cheeks start to blushed. Her hand quickly grab her pillow beside her and buried her face beneath it.

"O dear, don't tell me it's him that I'm dreaming about last night." She let out her sighed. She had fallen for him.

A message bleep chiming in her phone makes her peek under the pillow and quickly she reached for her phone.

A message from him.

'OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG' Raven's heart start racing. "Wh-Wha...H-How...." She tried to question reality, how on earth he's messaging her. Right now?

"You're awake?"

Raven bit her bottom lips as she look at her phone screen. Her finger diligently working on touch screen pad.

"Just awake. Can't sleep?"

She hit send button. Then for a few second she received his reply.

"I just had dream about you...

You look beautiful."

A dream? She blinked. Then another message comes in.

"Still busy working on the suit?"

Raven biting her lips to keep it as a secret but it's almost 25th like in 5 days away, so....why not? Her finger tapping the keyword on screen replying him.

"Actually I've finish the suit."

She replied. Another thought hit her and she quickly tapped it on the phone.

"I did promise making for dinner right? Maybe tomorrow?"

Again she send the text.

Interval in 2-3 second, her phone bleep it back.

"That would be great. I'll bring something as surprise."

Surprise? Raven mind start racing, mostly to that forbidden thoughts. What kind of surprise? She bit her lips and start typing.

"Well uh, I hope it's not a refrigerator you're bringing."

She shaked off those thought and try keep the conversation as innocent as possible.

"No. It's not. It's something, you probably would like it. 😏"

Raven looked at the emoji face he send. Did he send an emoji? Damian Wayne doesn't use emoji while texting or emailing.

"Well, alright then. See you tomorrow?"

She hit the send button.

Then a message came in.

"Can't wait to see you.♥️"

Raven flopped to her bed and her face now are red tinted. What is this? Why is this feeling so intense? She closed her eyes retracing her memory between them. Those bickering and end up with hot make out along intimate session in his office.

"I guess we should discuss about this terms of relationship." She talked in her pillow.

---------------

She has complete all the order that has been request by some local boutique and some are from online website. She's quite amazed with things that happens after the talk show incident where Damian said about Raven going to Wayne Gala this week.

People start to shift their attention to her especially her design clothes. Does Damian intend to promote her? She rubbed her chin then sudden, Mona, her assistant knock her door.

"Come in."

Mona peek behind the door, she smiled and slowly walk to her boss. " You have received a gift!" The assistant handled to her a parcel.

"A gift?" Raven whisper under her breath. Could it be Damian? Her eyebrows furrowed. She took out knife letter and slowly cut , unwrapped the parcel and she saw an apparel, black with velvet felt. There is the tag at the collar says Draco.

Her eyes widen. Draco? You mean Melchior Draco?

"Who is it? Your lover?" Mona feeling excited.

"No. This is from my competitor." Raven cover the box and push it away. Her head suddenly filled with painful memories about her and Melchior encounter. The way he flirt her before her first joining competition, the betrayal, and stolen her design to built his empire.

Her heart boiled with anger which in result she crumpled her paper nearby which made Mona a bit fall back by her intimidation.

"I'm sorry about that, Miss." Mona bow her head quickly apologize for not realise what is going on.

Raven snapped back from those memory and quickly look at the paper . " Oh!" She's surprise and quickly she try to straighten up the paper she crumbled. " No, no, it's okay, Mona. It's nothing." She smiled. " You can go now."

" Ah, alright then." She nod and walked to the door and-

" By the way, boss, there's a caller said he's from metropolis daily planet wanted to interview you about being guest at the gala." Mona turned to her as she spite out another appointment.

" Well, set it tomorrow then." Raven tidy up her table and throw the parcel to the bin nearby.

"Uh, you threw that?" Mona pointed at the parcel inside the dustbin.

"You want it?"

"Ummm...it looks beautiful." Her assistant fidgeting.

Raven smiled and took the parcel. She dust a bit. "Take it and wear where I don't see it. Or else I end up burn them with hellfire." Raven eyes shown deep hatred and anger.

"Ok boss." She smiled, quickly snatched the parcel and run to the exit.

As she was alone in her office, she slump in her chair and sigh heavily. "I guess he's also in town too." Her finger tapping on her table creating random melodies.

-------

Its 7.55pm, Raven now waiti g for Karen to pick her up as she lingers in her living room. She's wearing a one piece black dress decorated with golden and black labuci make it more fabulous looks.

She look at her phone to kill her waiting time until she stumbled on a post by E fashion news.

"Top trending designer DRACO are in town for launching their latest collection 'BLAK MAJIK' "

As raven read the article, she felt upset as she remember Melchior stole her ideas in doing a line fashion about magic before she presented the ideas at her first fashion show competition.

As she read the article, the sound of the car honking makes her jolt and quickly look at the window. It seems Karen has reached at her apartment block, quickly she goes out and greet Karen who parked at the entrance.

*********

"I heard that bastard Melchior are in town." Karen slowly stirred her cocktail as her and Raven where sitting on a table outside of the Viva La Coast restaurant.

"Yeah, I did read the article about it." said Raven as she drink her pina colada. " So, who are we waiting for again?"

"I forgot to tell you, Kory won't be able to join us. She has to come with her boyfriend meet with his family at Wayne Mansion."

"Wayne Mansion?" Raven's eyes jump out. Wayne, wasn't Damian last name is Wayne too?

" Yeah, but she's dating with Wayne's older adopted son, Richard Grayson. A high profile detective , probably will be promoted as soon. " Karen updating the status of their friend.

"I see." Raven looked at her drink. It's been a long time she hasn't talk to Kori because of her business setting up her small company.

"How about you then? You and Mal?" Raven raised her eyebrows.

"Well we've been planning for a wedding maybe in next year. " Karen smiled.

"Wait, I thought you're still in doctorate?" Raven eyes wide open as she remember Karen used to be a student in mechanical and atomic engineering.

"Will be graduated in two months." Karen smiled widely as she let out the fantastic news.

Raven goes all tears as she heard the good news. "Oh my god, Karen! I'm so happy!" She tried to hug Karen across the table.

Karen laughed with Raven's sudden behaviour. "That's why we celebrate it!"

"We should buy a cake. Wait, I know! Waiter!" Raven call up the waiter to get some dessert as celebration.

"And..."

Raven turns her head to Karen.

"I wanted you to design our wedding dress and suits." Karen faces flushes as she speak her request. " I really, really adore your work , Rachel. I wanted you to design it."

"Damn it , Karen. You make me all teary." Raven wiped her tears as she smiled sheepishly. " Of course I will."

"Karen, do you know anything about the youngest Wayne?"

"You mean Damian Wayne?"

"Yeah."

"I heard that he just back from middle east after doing charity project between the Wayne Enterprise and Leviathan Industries."

"I think everyone knows about that, Karen." Raven smiled as she drink up.

"I am very speculate that both of you have met." Karen with her mischievous smile now painted on her lips. " Is that the same guy who become your muse in your long lost sketch book?"

Raven clutches her hand on her drink, almost breaking it but she keep with her calm face. " I don't think so." She tried to denied it following with Karen's giggle.

"Plus, when he said there will be Raven in Wayne's Gala, I was like 'Raven?!' to the tv screen and I swear there's something going on between both of you." Karen crossed her armed with one eyebrow raised as she looked as Raven like she's a suspect.

"Well..." Raven averted her sight to the table and nervously tug her hair behind her ears. " There is."

BAM!

Raven jolted as Karen slammed the table with her drink. "TELL ME."

She swallowed her saliva as she seen Karen being over eager. She sighed as she adjust her seating, leaning towards the table.

"It start with that day, the day when he show up out of nowhere with that deal." Raven start to spilled what happen recently.

[limenysnocket]

I Despise The Way You Make Me Love You

Summary: If you piss off your friends and they don't forgive you, can they really be called your friends? Now, what happens when your closest friend pisses you off and makes you fall deeper in love with him each time he does?

Warnings: Smut, language, lots of sexual innuendos

Word count: 3,483

Request: @honorarytenenbaum

Authors note: You have no idea how excited I am to fufil my first request. If any of y'all have any more, drop it in my asks for anonymity, DM me to give me more details, or whatever the heck. I want your requests. Give them to me.

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What's a fantastic morning without the first cup of coffee that you're almost positively sure has been pumped full of laxatives and stress relief pills?

Well, it's not the morning you had planned, and it wasn't the coffee you wanted. You were at work, on your day off. Who dragged you here? Mr. Hollywood hot shot himself, Taika Waititi that absolute jackass. He came to your door at 6 a.m., invited himself inside, crashed into your bedroom, made you and partially helped you get dressed, and threw you into his car, taking you God knows where.

You were on the set of The Mandalorian where they were in the process of filming season two. You had a very cold cup of coffee in your hand and you were about to take a nice sip to hopefully get you sick enough to send you to the hospital for the day, but the cup was snatched away quickly before anything could happen. "I'll drink anything you give me, but I absolutely will not drink that, and I'm putting my ass on the line to make sure you don't drink it either," Taika said, dropping the cup in a nearby trashcan.

"Fuck you, Waititi," you growled, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Love you too, doll," Taika made a kissy face and put his hand on your lower back to guide you deeper into the film set. You swatted his hand away like it was a pesky mosquito.

"Why the hell did you bring me here?" You whisper shouted between your teeth as both of you swerved through staff. "You don't have to work or anything. I just miss you each time you take off on us," Taika pouted. Whatever, missed you my ass. He just wanted you there so you could cover for him every time he took a nap on the job.

"Taika!" You spun towards him, your hands in the air and nails out like an animal, you wanted to maul his God damn, terribly handsome face. "I was going to close my blinds, lock my doors, eat frozen pizzas, binge Superstore and wear sweatpants and a comfortable bra, God damn it! It's my fucking day off, can you take a break for, I don't know, one fucking minute!?" You looked spastic and quite angry. Even a few people stopped and stared for a few seconds. Taika wasn't phased, however. All he gave you was a shrug. "Sounds like a fun afternoon, you should invite me sometime."

Both of you were quiet, and you felt your skin bubbling. You flipped your shit. "I'm going home, alright! I'm calling myself an uber, and you better fucking not call me or come break down my door again, Waititi! I'm not doing this again!" You huffed, twirled around and went straight for the exit. This time, it managed to get the desperate Kiwi's attention.

"(Y/N), now hang on a minute, I can take you out to lunch if you stay!" He called out desperately. "Frozen Italian food sounds so much better, thank you," you snorted and shook your head. You could hear his heavy footsteps behind you, trying to catch up to you.

You couldn't bear to stand another minute with that man, so you pushed out of the small exit, just barely brushing shoulders with David as you went. As the door closed, you heard him say your name and question what you were doing here, but that stopped mid-sentence whenever he probably saw Taika riding your tail.

You yanked your phone from your pocket and started clicking onto the uber app, but your phone was snatched away as you reached the parking lot. "Give me one chance, (Y/N)! I promise to make it worth your while!" He said, trying to talk his offer up for a lunch date. "What is with you and grabbing my things, Waititi?" You growl, snapping your hand out to grab your phone back, only to have it be yanked away again.

"Call me Taika," He said, that dastardly smile still spread across his features. "I'll call you Taika whenever you've earned my actual respect and you can call me (L/N) until then, too!" You grabbed at your phone again. No dice. This was very unfair. He had quiet a few inches on you. "You heffer! Give me that back now!"

"You seem stressed. How long has it been since you've had sex?" Taika struck you with a question that covered your cheeks with a deep blush. "None of your business! Hand it over, Waititi!"

"Taika--," he corrected you without hesitation, "Tell me how long it's been and I'll give you your phone back."

You took a deep breath and folded your arms, you hated to admit such personal things, especially to the likes of him. "Three months," you let out an exasperated sigh. Taika put his hand to his chest in shock. "Really? A classy gal like you, I'd think, would be having sex at least once or twice a week! That's not even the maximum!"

You scoffed, "Stop talking it up, Waititi, it's never gonna work." You grabbed your phone from him and brushed past him, bumping shoulders a bit aggressively. He rolled his eyes and continued to follow you out further into the parking lot, carefully dodging heavy equipment that rolled by. "(Y/N), wait up! C'mon, please?" He frowned and got in front of you again. You were one click away from getting an uber.

Your jaw shifted from side to side in thought. He pissed you off today multiple times already, but you would kill to spend an afternoon alone with him. You knew, whenever he wasn't under the influence of his multiple companions, he was an extremely nice guy. I mean, he was whenever his friends were around sure. Maybe it was just your need for his undivided attention that drove you crazy over him.

You sighed, "Where the hell would you be taking me when all I'm wearing is jeans and a t-shirt? Don't you have this sort of reputation to uphold?" He was shining brightly now, the grin on his face couldn't be any wider. "Oh, darling, I would trash it all to be with you," he purred, "and, how does pizza sound?"

You cocked a brow, lips pinching together and your shoulders rolling. "Fine." He lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. "Amazing! How about we head back inside, we'll finish up this shoot, and after that, we'll see where the streets of LA take us~," he purred with a cocky wink that made you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, let's just hurry up," you sighed, speeding up your walk walk until you had your hand on the handle and had pulled open the door just by a smidge. To your surprise, the handle was yanked out of your hand as the door slammed shut in front of you. You looked up, a bit ticked off, but your inner self calmed when you saw Taika standing there, directly in front of you, blocking the door completely with his body and his eyes holding a provocative stare within them. "Three months, huh?" His voice was low and deep, just how you imagined it before bed quite a few times. "I can... You know... always take care of that for you~." He leaned down towards you, his face becoming dangerously close to yours.

"T-Taika, this isn't exactly the r-right place for that--," you stuttered then gasped softly as his lips brushed against yours. He was so close, you could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixing with the soft smell of his fabric softener that wafted blissfully from his clothes. You started to lean in too, now, taking a large gulp as you did.

"Waititi, stop doing whatever the hell you're doing out there and move your fat ass away from the door!" You heard the executive producer yell from the other side of the door, before Taika was launched forward by the propelling force of the door behind him. His head jeered off to the side and all that was left in contact between you two was the rough clash of his shoulder hitting yours. He stumbled for a minute while you laughed a little, shaking your head. You slipped in, just before a rack full of heavy equipment got close to the door, and that's where you parted from the kiwi, a massive grin on your face.

●■□●■□●■□●■□●■

Okay, he woke you up and ruined your perfectly planned day, so you were pissed just a little bit. Now, he was keeping you longer than he should have, at work and now you were really pissed. Both of you were the very last ones in the studio and he still hasn't finished up yet. Your stomach growled, your fingers twitched and your anger was bubbling.

You were sitting on one of the sets, a main, small room that split off towards the back. It was dark, greasy, and sewer-like. It had grates everywhere that were decaying with painted on rust and fake laser holes dotted along the fake metal every once in awhile.

You sat on a convenient crate prop that was sturdy enough to withstand three people at the most. You were rubbing your temples, the overwhelming and heady stench of expensive perfume, spray paint and spray tanning solution only fueled your distress. That cocky little bastard! He knew you never wanted to be here in the first place, but here he is, keeping you locked up here by his own hand. You were two moments away from storming out, calling that uber, and forgetting about this whole catastrophe whenever there was the rapping of knuckles against tin. Your head shot up and you glared. It was Taika. You said nothing.

He seemed awkward at first, his head tilting to the side and an apologetic smile on his lips, "Well, on the brighter side, at least we won't have to worry about the lunch rush!" He laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood, but your angry aura seemed to snuff out every attempt like a candle in the wind. "Look, doll, you know I'm sorry about keeping you here! It was never my intention..." He tried to explain, his hand motions really getting to work until they paused all together, right in front of him, palms facing upwards and his fingers lightly curling in, out of stress or carpal tunnel from holding on to a keyboard mouse all day long.

"Then what was your intention, Taika? Huh!?" You shot up from your seat and just stood there, your body nearly shaking with rage. "You wake me up, you drag me out of my house, and you force me to come to work! I thought you were my colleague, not my God damn boss!" You were frustrated. You wanted an answer. His eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed to be focused on a different topic on a new level. For the first time ever, you saw him look at the floor, embarrassed.

"Answer me, Taika!" You shouted, the sound of your voice echoing along the walls. He seemed shaken up whenever he looked up. He was confused, like he hadn't even listened to you the entire time. "What?" He said a little breathily, his eyes desperately searching yours for any tiny morsel that you had the compassion to forgive him.

"What were your intentions with this whole fucking thing?" You repeated through your bared teeth. Things were intense now. Both of you just stared in complete silence while Taika contemplated his, apparently, very complex answer.

"Well?" You flinched your arm muscles up once, in a shrugging motion. His eyes were closed and he took a deep breath. Suddenly, he charged forward at you, in a fast walk, without a word, a serious expression on his face. It made you take a few steps back out of shock, and you were close to pulling out your emergency bottle of pepper spray whenever he grabbed both sides of your face with his rough hands and brought you close to him. "This," he whispered before smashing his lips on yours. Your eyes widened, your hands went to his clothes and started clawing harshly, almost begging for him to stop before you became too attached, but as the kiss went on, it became more passionate and your clawing slowed, your eyes fluttered closed and your hands went up, into his hair. Taika let the pure bliss of your acceptance sink into his memory for a few moments longer before he pulled away, his hands dropping from your head and down to his sides.

He took a few steps back, wiping the drool off of his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. "That," he muttered again, bobbing his head to truly acknowledge what he had done. "My intention was to make that happen."

You were stunned, eyes wide when they flew back open and fluttered wildly. Your hands didn't know what to do with themselves anymore, now that they weren't buried in Taika's soft locks, so they went into yours, gripping on tightly and slightly pulsing the tug. Your lips craved more, your heart thrummed madly in your chest, so hard, you thought that it was beating, like a drum, up against your ribcage.

"Taika," you manage to whisper, catching his attention, you could tell, as he looked up at you again. "Yeah?" He muttered back.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your lips needed to connect with his again, you needed to touch him once more, to feel him in any way. You just knew you wanted him. You wanted him bad. You walked right up to him, curled your fingers back into his hair and brought his lips back down on yours, desperate and needy, unlike the last kiss the two of you shared. He kissed you right back, his hands having enough consciousness to slick right down and grip onto your waist.

It was unexpected, it was needed, your friends bet it was going to happen, it was... it was.... hot.

The kiss went on much longer than the last one, and eventually got more heated as well. His tongue slid across your bottom lip and there was no hesitation to open up for him. It was like opening the pearly gates of heaven, in his eyes. He gave your lip a cheeky little nip with his teeth anyway, making you whine softly, before tangling his tongue up with yours, almost like tying a cherry stem into a knot between the two of you.

He started pushing you back. You stumbled a bit, but you got the hint and started walking backwards. His body eagerly followed yours, not willing to break the kiss unless it was for a brief moment of air. Your back was eventually pushed up against one of the orange tinted walls and that wasn't the only thing being pushed up. Your shirt was carrying a steady pace up your abdomen and getting closer to exposing your chest. You were impatient, so you suddenly broke the kiss, leaving Taika momentarily distraught, and lifted your shirt completely off so you could toss it away like trash. Taika was smirking now and continued to kiss you, this time, more hunger was induced into it.

The next time you two broke contact, it was Taika's doings. You didn't have time to really react before you were no longer facing Taika, but the grated wall, and your breasts were pushed up tightly against it as well. Little words were spoken between you two, and it was easy to tell what position he wanted you in, so you stuck your ass out there a little more. You could practically feel his smirk getting wider. He reached around your waist and found the button to your pants. While one hand focused on getting that down and away, the other worked on getting your bra unclipped. It was easy with his skilled fingers. Once your bra was gone, so we're your pants. They dropped to be around your ankles and you hastily kicked them off, as well with your shoes.

A single one of his digits hooked around the hem of your panties and started bringing them down your thighs. His eyes could practically bore holes into your body with how intensely he stared with the newfound flesh.

Your body tingled with the sound of his belt unbuckling and hitting the floor, even more so when his pants were unzipped and dropped around his ankles, well, after he had rustled his wallet from his back pocket first and picked a condom out of it. You wanted him to completely undress, like you, but you weren't in the mood to complain. If anything, this round was possibly doomed to be a quickie anyway.

His boxers were the last item to hit the floor, then it was all over. His stiff member, once the rubber condom had been swiftly applied, prodded at your soaked walls before making its quick and long past due entrance. It nearly made you scream, but before any of that could happen, Taika had one hand slapped firmly across your mouth and the other one grabbed a fist-full of one's of your boobs.

Here's the thing that Taika had completely forgotten to mention whenever this whole fiasco started. He wasn't completely sure that you both were alone in the studio. With his explanation being whispered hotly into your ear with his sensual kiwi accent, you didn't seem to care. If anything, the higher risk of being caught only made the sexual intensity even more intense. So, you were going to be fucked like that, quietly, dirtily, and somewhat publicly. He had this power of domination over you... and you loved it.

He started thrusting, slow and hard. Each time his hips would connect with your ass, your stomach would lightly slam against the grate in front of you and made it wobble out a sound that could possibly notify anyone around you about where you were. Okay, maybe the two of you were that fed up about being discrete with your actions. You both just knew that you needed this and no one was going to tell you otherwise.

He let out soft grunts and pants of your name, occasionally burying his face into your shoulder whenever he started going faster, so he wouldn't get too loud while he pummeled you mercilessly. You could feel him nipping at your skin, whenever you weren't so focused on the feeling of his stiff cock rubbing along your walls. He bit you, sucked on your neck and shoulders, covering you with his love. Well, his claim of you and your body, at least.

The rocking of his hips started getting more rough, irrational and sporadic. He was close and so were you, but he was determined to hold on until you had released all over him. Your hands held on to the grate for dear life, and it rolled along with your movements, shaking when your body pushed forcefully against it by Taika's will, and it wobbled back whenever you lurched backwards to prepare for the next world rocking thrust. This was so much better than sweatpants and The Office episodes.

It didn't take you long before you jumped over the edge and your vision blurred white. He had done it, he had given you one of the worst/best days of your life and you didn't want it to be over, but everything comes to an end eventually, even Taika himself. His thrusts slowed and he gave three, stout, powerful ruts against your ass before he released and his body pushed against yours. His hand fell from your mouth so he could hear your pants and praises that he had been missing out on the entire time the two of you went at it like mad dogs. He pulled out and almost immediately pulled off the gross condom.

You busied yourself with picking up your clothes and quietly putting them on while Taika disposed of the used rubber and pulled up his pants from around his ankles. Both of your faces were red and the lust still sparkled dimly within his and your eyes.

You both met in the middle of the room, once the two of you were collected and ready to leave like nothing had happened in that room you were standing in.

"So, am I invited to come over and crash your days off any time I like, now?" Taika cocked a brow and broke the comfortable silence with a grin and a chuckle. You laughed with him, leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You know what?" You said, tilting your head and having a cheeky smile write itself all over your lips, "I'd love that... same time, tomorrow?"

[leofiat-bunny]

Ep 11 watching thoughts

(LeoFiat biased)

Part 1

The director really has no faith whatsoever in the audience. YES! I already noticed the damn bag.

Things I wish I could erase from my brain: how Type's dad reacted to Thanya's appearance in ep 1 (I think it was ep 1). 🤢

Go Type! Go Type!

... starting to sympathise with the TharnType fans who are all "get the people I want to see on screen!" all the time. Except I don't even have the excuse of them being the main characters. 😅

I'm glad Thanya uses her princess powers for good. ☺️

They did not see that coming. Which: fair, since that's a really bad summary of what happened.

A het couple with rights: a rare species.

Part 2

Not the first look of Fiat I expected to get 😯

I'm happy now. Not satisfied: never enough for satisfaction, but happy 😁

... their continuity isn't great in general, but that one's quite egregious... isn't it somebodies job to catch that stuff? (it's the hand at shoulder/neck switch)

I've decided, within that cut was a fair few minutes of hugging, which is part of why Leo's so very happy - other than the low grade of constant party going on inside him of course. 😉

{scene change}

So it's been a few weeks since last ep/start of this ep. Interesting.

Leo's only a little bit in love 🤣

Fiat has to say sorry himself, Leo can only offer support with that; but Leo will take control (with Fiat's gratitude) for the rest. 😭

(I've not forgotten the apology Fiat is owed, but two wrongs don't make a right: Fiat *does* owe Tharn and Type apologies.)

The way I keep having to pause because I get too excited. Ooh - meds - thanks for the reminder.

Give him back his pen. (Fiat hasn't said a word yet but... give him back his pen! I'm not biased 😝)

Aww... Leo is totally willing to try to say sorry for Fiat anyway and Fiat knows he has to be the one. I really love them an unreasonable amount ok?

Good boy. (Tharn)

Bit confused though: has Tharn acknowledged that Type was telling the truth, eoungh so he doesn't even need Fiat to confirm what happened?

"no, and I'm not planning to" [giggle-snort] Gold star Type 🌟

What do you mean network error? I've only paused you about a thousand times, rewound a bit a hundred times and left you for a good while twice... or thrice. 😅

How's his boyfriend doing?

Part 3

WTAF?

Again, please prioritise speech over lyrics.

Not surprised by this, but seriously, "gotta go" has to have been the WORST way of dealing with it.

I actually find this music really annoying. It's basically headache inducing.

Part 4

Resisting the urge to scroll forward and see if we get any more LeoFiat 😅

I'm not good with emotions. Currently so uncomfortable.

They're really desperate to sell the album aren't they?

Ok, also the anxiety is not helping.

I am being good. I'm not skipping. I've even got the screen so I can see it while typing. Yes, I normally PAUSE to type but only expect so much of me okay?

Was wondering how long that would take.

Communication. That was the wrong way to start. Start WITH the reason.

Subsequent watches of that will be much less painful for me.

Champ. Not who I was hoping for, but I'll take it. They are cute.

Of course it should have clicked the moment I saw the hospital but I was trying to come up with reasons for Fiat to still need a checkup scene. 🤦‍♀️

Done

Time to read about how I shouldn’t have enjoyed those 2 scenes as much as I did I guess. 🤷‍♀️