#laptop extra screen attachment

[evansbby]

you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…

❃▹or ❃▹

sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.

{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}

A. Levinson has requested a private chat.

The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.

Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:

A. Levinson donated $500.

You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…

The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.

A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.

Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.

You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.

“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”

“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”

“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”

He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”

You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.

“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.

But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?!?

You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”

“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…

“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”

And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…

“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”

You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”

“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”

Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?

The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.

A. Levinson donated $600.

“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”

You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”

A. Levinson donated $800.

“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”

You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?

And why did you not hate it at all?

Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.

“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”

“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.

“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”

“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.

“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”

Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.

“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”

“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.

“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”

“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”

“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”

You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.

You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.

“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”

A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.

“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”

“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.

You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.

Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.

“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.

“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”

Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.

You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.

“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”

He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”

“Yeah, daddy…”

Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.

“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”

The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!

“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…

“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.

“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…

“Sweetheart? You with me?”

“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”

“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??

“Send it to me. Now.”

You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.

“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”

Your heart sinks. Was this it?

“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”

Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.

“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.

“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.

“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.

“I… I don’t know… I—”

He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”

“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.

“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”

Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.

“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“

Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.

“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.

“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”

“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!

“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”

“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”

You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.

“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-

"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”

You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”

“You still dumbed out, honey?”

You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…

“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”

You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.

“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”

“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.

“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”

You nod dumbly.

“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”

“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.

“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”

THE END.

Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS

[circlebuttons]

Simon Riley as a father

-father!simonriley who returns home from deployment to his toddler son wanting nothing to do with him

Simon Riley doesn't just want a wife and kids. He wants to be a husband and father, so when your toddler starts to velcro himself to you Simon tries very hard not to take it personally. It was merely just a coincidence that your toddler developed this new obsession with you during Simon’s last deployment, but that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty. Your son is in a phase where he just wants to be under you twenty four seven, even having meltdowns in Simon’s arms some days when you have to leave home without him. It's endearing how he follows you around like a little duckling and gives you the sweetest little hugs and kisses just because, but the issue arises the more he starts giving Simon glares for even daring to try to join the two of you in hand holding or wedging his little footie covered body between the two of you in bed. Your son meets Simon with rejection just about any chance he gets no matter how many times you try to remind him to be kind to his father, and you can tell by Simon’s expressions and body language that it stings a lot of the time. You make sure to love on him extra when you have moments alone, assuring him often that in a few days this new phase will be over, your hand lightly massaging his shoulder, reaching across said toddler who's sound asleep with his arms and legs strewn across the two of you.

It isn't until Simon saves the day with his remarkable dad strength that he's no longer on your toddlers shit list. You're in the kitchen making lunch for both of them when your son appears at your side with a juice he's pulled from the pantry with your permission. He hands it to you to open but the character head attached to the nozzle always makes the bottle hard to grip and open, especially when your nails are done. You grunt softly after trying to open it a few times, an idea popping into your head after your last failed attempt. You crouch down slightly to be on his level before flitting your eyes over to Simon sitting quietly at the kitchen island, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop and by the way he quickly typed and furrows his eyebrow you can tell he's answering last minute work emails. You nod to him and quietly suggest that, "Maybe if you go ask daddy nicely and give him a big kiss he'll open it."

He thinks it over for a few seconds before pattering over to Simon, determination in his eyes as he pulls at his pant leg. You watch as his eyebrows shoot high up, surprised at the interaction before he effortlessly opens the bottle with a smile. His eyes catch yours when he leans down to receive his "thank you" and cheek kiss, mouthing an excited "You see this?"

You nod excitedly at him, happy that your boys are loving on each other again, what more could you want?

[obeythebutler]

For the fluff prompt, may I please have Lucifer and "making funny faces behind the computer while the other one is in a boring Zoom meeting" with Mc being the other one???

It starts small.

The most insignificant of details that the eye won't catch at first glance, but the brain notices something is amiss.

For starters, the pair of spectacles Lucifer always dons is sitting on his desk. You swear he was wearing them just a moment before—your eyebrows furrow—but then you divert your attention back to the screen. The demon continues with his paperwork.

End semester projects require regular progress checks. Your group members are done informing the professor of their progress, now it is your turn to speak up.

"We are done with our research," You say, involuntarily straightening your posture. "We have encountered several problems while trying to know more about the economic practices of the Devildom in the year 1121. Astarion and I have gathered what we could find and compiled it in the document attached in our recent email to you."

"And what is to be done next?" The demon asks.

Magoth speaks up, and you take the moment to grab the bottle of water next to you. You open the cap and take a sip, eyes darting behind the screen.

"We have already verified it from—"

You choke on the liquid in your throat.

Several voices of concern chime in through your speakers as you hack and cough. Hurriedly wiping your mouth, you splutter and blurt out words of assurance. The talking resumes, and your brain can't believe what it saw.

Lucifer, pouting as he stares into his phone, the device outstretched in his left hand. Puckered lips and and all.

"Don't." You mouth the words at the demon, who smirks and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

"This project will be submitted by the end of next month," You pipe in, voice confident of your group's ability to meet deadlines. "There's a survey also planned for extra credit, and Astarion has already formulated the questions."

"Very good! Ah, that reminds me, I've made a new email id—please mail me your survey results on..............."

You make the mistake of glancing at Lucifer.

You have to resist the urge to smile after.

He's winking at you now, comically so, and the demon looks ridiculous.

You mute your mic, and let yourself giggle. "Lucifer," You whine, "I'm in a meeting!"

"Can't I have a little fun now and then?" He says, picking up his pen again. "Besides, you should be focused on the meeting, and not on external variables."

You glare at the demon.

"MC?" Magoth chimes. "Are you trying to say something? Your mic's on mute."

You force yourself to make a polite smile. "Everything's alright! Just a little disturbance. Please, carry on."

You lean back on your chair. The sound of pen scribbling on paper makes for a suitable background noise, and you finally focus on the meeting being held.

You assume the demon has finally calmed down on his rare antics.

Progress is made, conclusions revised, and the meeting is wrapped up in the next twenty minutes.

You close your laptop after, and nearly jump in your seat.

Because there is Lucifer, eyebrows furrowed and a hand grabbing his chin. Lower lip being bitten by his teeth.

This time, you let yourself laugh freely.

[gremlintheslut]

Kinktober

Day 3 sextape and honeymoon

Nikki sixx

Sex tape and honeymoon

Nikki sixx

Summary: a tape from the 80s was recently found and posted onto the Internet. The tape is of you and Nikki sixx getting it on while on your honeymoon.

Warning: bondage (with rope), recording sex, sex tape getting leaked, masterbation, oral sex (m receiving), nipple clamps, blindfold (cloth), ball gag (unspecified).

Master list (main pinned)

(Written from the pov of a fan)

I turn on my phone and go onto tiktok. I scroll past the advertisement I'm shown when I first open the app and the next video catches my eye. A girl with wide eyes has her hand over her mouth and the text on the screen reads "omg I just watched the Nikki sixx honeymoon video those bitches are kinky". I'm filled with confusion and curiosity. My favorite band is motley Crue and I've never heard of this before.

I click one of the tags on the video that reads "Nikki sixx honeymoon video". I scroll through a bunch of videos and comments trying to figure out where to find it. I eventually find out that the only place where it has been posted and not taken down almost immediately after is Twitter (I fucking hate X). I put my phone down and sit up on my bed leaning against the headboard. I take my laptop off of the my nightstand where it is charging and place it on my lap.

I open it and go to Twitter. I search "Nikki sixx honeymoon video" and find what I assume is the honeymoon video. I click on it. Nikki is messing around with the camera trying to get a good angle. "Is it on?" his wife y/n says from across the room. "Yeah just trying to get it to stay still" he says continuing to move the camera around. "Is there any extra rope in the box?" Y/n says and Nikki laughs.

He lets go of the camera keeping his hands close to it in case it fell. The camera stays and he moves back allowing the camera to capture the full scene. Y/n is kneeling on the floor and she is tied up whilst completely naked. Her arms are stacked on top of each other behind her back and her hands holding her elbows. The rope on her arms is attached to her legs and her waist so she can't move at all. Her legs are spread as wide as they can go. My jaw drops. All the videos and comments said kinky but damn.

Nikki's shirt is already off. Nikki walks over to her and takes something off of the nightstand which is in frame by a sliver. The first thing he grabs is a blind fold. Y/n has a smile on her face the whole time while he ties it around her head so she can't see. My jaw drops further when he grabs nipple clamps with a third clamp attached to the chain. I'm confused as he attaches the top two clamp to her nipples. Y/n makes a small whimper of discomfort but she's clearly used to it.

Then he take the bottom clamp and attaches it to her clit. Y/n hisses in pain as he tugs on the chain to make sure they wouldn't come off. He then stands up to his full height. He unbuttons and unzips his pants pulling them down along with his boxers. He steps out of them and moves so he's right in front of y/n and you can see everything. holy fuck. Y/n is a lucky bitch. y/n had opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out the second she heard the zipper. He pushes the tip against her tongue and she kitten licks him. Her tongue swipes up and down his piss slit before swirling it around the head.

She moves her head forward a little as her tongue follows one of the veins on his cock from just below the tip to the base. She swirls her tongue around the base before following the same vein back up. She licks a stripe up his piss slit and doesn't get the chance to go down again before Nikki pulls on the chain. She moans in response. She moves her lips in front of her teeth and closes them around his tip. She sucks on the tip for a few seconds and I assume she moves her tongue as well.

She takes more of him into her mouth. Nikki thrusts his hips a little the action clearly being involuntary.

She moves all the way down his shaft not stopping or showing any sign of discomfort. Nikki's mouth forms and O shape and he leans forward a little. Again my jaw drops as her lips hit the base and you can see the bulge in her throat. She sits like this for a few seconds while Nikki has his head tilted back pleasure. "Holy shit" he moans out after tugging on the chain again telling Y/n to begin to move up and down. She starts off somewhat slow before picking up the speed. He full on moans while pulling on her hair. Her head game is clearly unmatchable.

She goes up and down at the same fast speed until sixx grabs the back of her head. He forces her to speed up and she lets him take full control. She still isn't gagging at all and seems fine. This bitch is a pro. I'm pulled out of my thoughts when Nikki lets out a particularly loud groan. "Fuck baby" he almost whimpers out, his eyes squeezed shut. He's clearly having the time of his life. I look at the time thing on the video and see it is 4 hours long. I'm shocked, it can't just be one round.

My eyes are dragged back to the scene playing on my screen after Nikki moans loudly. The look on his face is complete bliss and he stopped moving y/n head. He's Leaned forward more and his mouth is still in an O shape and his jaw is twitching a little. Just a couple seconds later he lets out a sigh. I've been watching for almost 30 minutes now. He pulls out of her mouth. Y/n swallows and licks her lips. He puts his finger and his thumb on her chin. "Open" he says and I can't tell if she does or if he makes her. She sticks her tongue out and then lifts it up to show she has swallowed everything.

He then leaves his spot in front of her.

He goes to the nightstand to get something. It's a ball gag and at this point I'm not surprised. He walks back over to her and puts it on her. He walks behind her and untied her arms before retying the ropes so only one arm is free. He grabs her by the wrist and places her hand on her pussy. She doesn't move and muscle and he walks towards the camera. He grabs it and walks back to her making sure he has the best angle of her possible.

He removes the clamp that's on her clit and continues to hold onto the longest part of the chain. "Go" Nikki says and she begins rubbing her clit in slow circles. Her muffled moans ring out from my computers speaker. He wraps the chain around his knuckles and pulls hard. She cries against the gag and tears roll down her face. Her fingers move from her clit to her entrance. She slowly pushes them in and then an error message pops up onto my screen. "We are sorry but this video has been removed" it reads. I let out a disappointed sigh and close the app before closing my laptop.

Words-1319

Thanks for reading 💋-gremlin

I'm really proud of this and I'm probably gonna write the full honeymoon video

[cafecitoeddie]

Inspired ENTIRELY by @suavecitodiaz and her big brained hooking up at the bachelor party / getting married without knowing it response to her nonny here.

~~~~~~~~

"Okay, that showed me absolutely nothing new, Chris," Eddie says, staring down at the YouTube screen queuing up to play the next video. "The fridge doesn't need to have any kind of extra applications, it's a fridge."

Eddie leans forward to press the space bar as the video starts up of a happy jingle playing over a series of emoji's displayed on a massive screen on the front panel of another "smart fridge." Can it make him breakfast, lunch and dinner for the price their asking for? Unlikely. He shakes his head ruefully, wondering what the hell this world is coming to.

Chris grumbles in the way only an exhausted, long-suffering thirteen year old can. He falls back against the couch cushions with a long sigh.

"Dad," he groans. "Buck has explained it to you so many times already." He fumbles with the blanket hanging over the arm rest.

"The Hildy SmarTech Fridge can help you buy things you don't know you need, like the coconut ice cream bars Buck likes."

"Buck likes? Or you like?" Eddie purses his lips, giving Chris a side-long glance. "I'm not letting Buck program anything on that thing, or else we'll be eating arugula for weeks."

Chris' bright burst of laughter is enough to make Eddie wonder if getting The Hildy Smartypants Fridge 5000, or whatever, would be worth it.

He turns back to his laptop ready to shut it down, when he notices a notification for an email come through across the top right corner. He rarely gets anything, save for the occasional PTA announcements but that says--

“Are you ready to embark on the rest of your life?”

What in the world? It has to be spam.

The email is short and sweet, direct and to the point.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mr. Diaz! Attached is a printable pdf download of your marriage license. Please review and confirm all names of both parties are accurate within 72 hours of receipt. Contact your local country clerk for any further assistance. Thank you!”

The familiar prickling of dread starts at the top of his head, slowly making it's way all over his body.

Oh god. Oh no, oh god, oh no.

Flashes of sweat and skin and hands roaming all over and new sensations coupled with alcohol and--

Buck.

Sure, he and Buck had woken up together in a destroyed hotel room but neither remembered anything as dramatic as a marriage!

Right there across the top in bold, fancy lettering is "State of California Certification of Vital Records: MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE of Edmundo and Evan Diaz."

It all suddenly comes flooding back.

"Dad?" Chris leans forward to look over his shoulder as Eddie scrambles to close the laptop. "Are you okay?"

Eddie doesn't know what he feels. That night was-- It meant--

Oh god.

If he received the email, surely Buck must have gotten it, too.

He hears Chris asking once again if he's okay.

He picks up his phone with a trembling hand just as it starts to buzz with an incoming call.

Buck's goofy smile fills up the whole screen. He took that picture the night they--

Oh god.

[taegularities]

hi, could you maybe write something for STARS BEHIND WAVES?

maybe about how they’re doing right now? (fluff, maybe suggestive?)

I really really love this story of yours:)))

Do you think you’ll write an epilogue someday?

(No pressure, i’m just really obsessed with this story)

Have a nice day/good night;)

fic: stars behind waves

pairing: jungkook x reader warnings: kissing, suggestive, his wandering hands and crude mouth lol, this is literally one of the softest couple i have and i love them so much, mention of fear of heights, oc is scared of a river :'), jealousy <3 pure fluff and bliss and love!! wc: 3.1k lol a/n: thank you for the request!! definitely one of my fav fics 🥺 i don't think i will be able to write an epilogue :( but rest assured, they're the happiest they can be. also, i really kinda love this lil drabble, so if you do, too, lmk hehe <3 a/n 2: i just found this in my drafts from when we were playing the amc game a couple months ago lol. hope you enjoy. is also unedited, so be gentle with me lmaoo <3

–

“Maldives.”

“God, no,” you reject, “sounds gorgeous, but. I can't deal with the heat anymore.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, fatigued from the unproductive day, but agrees, “Okay. Maybe you’re right. We’ve seen our fair share of…”

The last words turn into a mumble, drifting when his attention does. He scrolls on, big eyes glued to the bright screen. He’s been changing tabs for hours now; between travel destinations and booking sites, he’s exhausted himself.

Several three-digit-numbers have burned themselves into your brain from comparing a dozen vacations; planning such a thing is tedious.

You saved money for this. Working your ass off throughout the year, putting extra effort in overtime hours to visit a place you’ve only dreamed of thus far. Jungkook graduated, and you promised you’d steer towards an unforgettable summer.

His shifts at the bookstore were tiring, too. One too many times you called during lunch break just to meet a groggy voice. The late dinners at home transpired similarly quiet, his eyes similarly fatigued.

Then he’d cling onto you at night; he found your warmth solacing. Would tug you in, smack his lips. Yawn against your shoulder before slipping into dreamland, uttering a couple last mumbled “I love you”s and pouty, whiny “Don’t wanna work”s.

Summer couldn’t come faster.

But so couldn’t dinner.

“Maybe we should think about it another time,” you say. “I’m getting hungry.”

Jungkook drops the attached laptop mouse dramatically, shoving it away as he leans back on his chair and declares, “Thank fuck. I’m starving.”

“Should’ve just said something.”

Dinner is relieving to the two of you; having used up all words for today, you eat in peace, each enjoying your meal. Jungkook, reaching for his glass of water, looks up at you once, bowl half empty.

His eyes land above your clavicles, right where the charm dangles. Sparkles. The stars he promised you almost two decades ago. He can’t believe it’s barely been two years since the summer occurred when he found you again.

Time has passed; the two of you reunited with ease.

Spending days and nights together doesn’t come without fights — occasionally, you snap at each other, reminding the other of lonely times, spitting words that soon turn into regret.

But those arguments, as natural as sunlight, pass quickly and give way to comforting words, lips on scarred cheeks, hands over warm bodies.

Even when you were younger, you’d make up softly, comfortably. Would apologise and seek an unknown spot on the island, starving for a distraction. You’d find yet another shell without pearls in it; would try to make things right.

Jungkook remembers one day particularly well; surprising how well it fits this very moment.

Back then you’d hiked up a hill, dizzy in the damp summer heat. You cursed at Jungkook for dragging you along when you’d suggested an effortless, pleasant afternoon at the small market.

Halfway through your journey, you feared you’d gotten lost. You didn’t meet people anymore. The forest grew more tense. You kept your eyes and ears open for snakes or bears or whatever might linger here.

You only felt a sliver of hope when you heard water splashing nearby, hoping it was a lake or the ocean. But what you found instead filled you with far more discomfort.

Not because the river that you found on top wasn’t very narrow or harmless. Neither because it ended in a waterfall that fell for quite a while and then continued the same river, meeting the ocean somewhere.

No, you felt terrified because you knew what Jungkook would want to do.

“Let’s go back,” you immediately blurted.

But he was already on his shit, shaking his head with a twinkle in his dark eyes. You pulled at his tee, ready to turn at your heel and roll down the hill. Jungkook, however, pushed your hand away, freeing himself from your touch.

“No. Let’s cross this.”

You knew it. He was bold and idiotic enough; an adrenaline junkie the way you couldn’t be. Even cliff diving took you a good while to tackle and then longer to get used to. He taught you and kept doing so every year, because you’d enter the island with a newfound fear of heights each time.

“Uhm,” you said, raising your hands in defence, “I do not think so, dude.”

“But loo—”

“No. *No, I—”

You were so close to the edge, though probably not enough for the current to pull you in. Maybe you just hallucinated the proximity, too. Because thinking about it in hindsight, there was probably nowhere that much of a danger for you.

But you still weren’t ready to die yet.

So you ripped your eyes open further, panicking a little when he stepped into the water along with his terrible crocs. You clamoured, voice higher than ever, “What the fuck are you *doing?”

And maybe you would’ve kept your stance and ran away if he didn’t smile back at you like you were nowhere safer than with him. A reassuring grin, secure and certain.

You guess you were already hopelessly in love with him then. Not to mention that you still constantly lost yourself in the kiss you’d shared on your porch this spring. Your very *first kiss…

And you still craved more ever since. Only, Jungkook had never given you more after that.

It didn’t help when he held out a hand, remaining teasing yet sweet with a tilted, crooked smirk. His stance, firm in the water, lured you in although you definitely weren’t one to be risky like this.

But somehow, he could still convince you. Forced a frustrated sigh out of you, pulling you in like a magnetic force as you neared the river. You could see the other side not too far from you, but in your fear, the distance seemed endless.

“C’mon. We got this,” he promised, his voice drowning in the sounds of the current. “If we die, we die together.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shit, you really think you’re poetic.” You climbed over a rock, taking off your shoes, holding them in one hand as the other clutched his fingers tight from the first moment, like a reflex. “You watch too many dramas, gosh.”

He held you in a careful grip. You were smaller then, and his seventeen-year-old body, a strong result of regular gym sessions, withheld the water far better than yours. You, as opposed to him, almost dropped to your knees wading forwards.

You stepped on a somewhat sharp rock under the white waves, but he wouldn’t let you drift away. His attention remained on you. Halfway across, he said, “Here.”

He took your arm and pulled you close, slinging it around his torso, enabling a stronger grip. He was an ass and gentle friend at once — because he scared you on purpose a moment later, acting as though he was slipping.

And just when you yelped once more, watching him squint an eye at the volume, you swore at him thoroughly. You mewled words you hadn’t heard in your voice before, and he laughed, stating, “That reminds me of a school trip.”

“What,” you panted, out of breath, “goddamn school trip.”

“We went to a climbing park, and like… this girl,” he sucked in air through his mouth, tired, too; and you held your breath, “this girl from my class was literally trembling. I— I helped her over a distance until she felt secure. But…”

He groaned, struggling a bit. Or maybe he just acted like he did, you didn’t know. You were more focused than before, that was for sure.

“She was screaming just like you,” he finished.

Suddenly, you weren’t that frightened anymore.

You even forgot that you’d feared death just a moment ago. Your chest burned green.

You asked, “Right. And… and you were holding her like this, too, huh?”

“Kind of.”

“Cool. Co—”

You were out of balance. One blink passed, and you tumbled, immediately digging your nails into his shirt and his skin. His hands saved you as you placed your free fingers onto a stone automatically, one shoe sliding off your fingers.

The river carried it away from you until you couldn’t see it anymore, and you furrowed your eyebrows, mouth wide as you yelled, “No!”

“Forget it, we just need to move!”

“It wasn’t me who fucking suggested this!” you snarled, gritting your teeth.

Your knees shook. You stared ahead — just a couple feet more.

“I got you,” was all he answered, “almost there.”

And when you finally were, you were still cursing, pushing his body away. Under your breath, you murmured a dozen words, and Jungkook, wiping soaked hands at his shorts, couldn’t stop chuckling.

His hair was damp, outrageous when he pushed it back, but it couldn’t distract you this time. Instead, you threw your remaining shoe at him, watching him dodge it with an amused wide grin.

You couldn’t be bothered with his jokes; he was being irritating. There was literally nothing over here. Who knew if there was a way to get off this hill from here at all.

Knees still liquid, you targeted a tree and took a seat underneath it. You caught your breath, observing him as he sniffled and picked up your shoe. You felt empathy for his shorts; he still dragged his hands over them, leaving dark, wet stains.

Then, he dropped down next to you. Nudged your shoulder and said, “Come *on. That was fun.” A beat of a pause as you moved your head to glare at him. Then, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“*You,” you started, face close to his, a finger pointing at his chest, “were almost gonna organise a funeral.”

“Please. Nothing was gonna happen to you.”

“No. Your *own.”

He laughed again. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.”

You exhaled. In truth, it hadn’t been that bad. Looking at the river from here, you truly were far enough from the edge, and the water had barely reached your knees. But the thing he said…

You searched for a way to make things less awkward; to not let him know that you were seething with envy. A harmless question came to mind, subtle as you inquired, “Was I at least a little braver than that… classmate?”

He lifted his head in thought, humming.

“Hmm. No.” Your shoulders slumped. How rude. “Hard to judge, though. It took us only a few minutes here, and it took her *hours to cross the climbing park.”

You didn’t tell him that sometimes, you were supposed to take hours. Not everybody was as athletic as him. Hmph.

“You helped her all this time?” you asked.

“Half of it at least.”

You shouldn’t have been jealous. Not bothered by how casual he made it sound, how he nodded… it was all whatever. But also—

“And then?” you dug. “You drove back to school and acted like you hadn’t just bonded?”

“Uhm…” Your heart dropped. Typical first love, typical first frustrating feelings. Your young heart was a lot more feeble. “Something like that.”

But you understood.

“Oh, Jeon…”

“It was just a kiss after lunch, okay. That day, and never again.”

Ah, you hated this. So he could kiss someone else, but not you aga—

No. Stop. What dumb thoughts.

“Okay. Good for you,” you told him, back to your prior tone.

Damn it.

You stared at the abandoned shoe between the two of you.

Shit, how were you gonna go back with one of your initially two Nikes on your feet? He’d have to carry you. At least you put both your socks in the one shoe you didn’t lose…

“Don’t act that way,” Jungkook spoke through your thoughts, patting your knee, “it was a lot more fun with you. She kept saying she wanted to go home and that messed with my own experience.”

“And yet, you kissed her.”

“Yeah, well. Happens.” He rolled his eyes. His voice was still casual and soft; perhaps he didn’t notice the storm in your pupils. “But I’ve had better kisses.”

Or maybe he did notice. Maybe that’s why he was saying that.

You hoped for a certain answer, but still tried, “Oh? Have you kissed more girls since spring?”

Oops. Okay, you didn’t want to ask so explicitly. But up until spring, he had never kissed anyone. And your heart fell into your ass, shoulders relaxing when he admitted, “No. Just her.”

Your eyes were wide now. You ogled at him, and then down to your drying legs again. Suppressing a smile, you nodded; and when you stared up at him anew, he was watching you intently.

Carefully, with tenderness in his gaze.

And he was close. You were half certain he’d kiss you again because for the tiniest moment, his eyes flitted down to your lips. But to your chagrin, the day and summer ended like this — mouth untouched.

He wouldn’t do more until years later.

Instead, he said, “I guess that was the last thing we still had left, right? Think I know this island inside out by now.”

“Probably,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat, swallowed. “Would be cool to explore more with you, though. Outside this place, I mean.”

But once again, you couldn’t foresee that it’d be your last summer together for a long time. That you wouldn’t meet the boy bringing you the stars until you had hurt and broken enough.

And he didn’t know either; of course he didn’t. Because soon he promised, “When we’re older and richer, I’ll take you to the mountains. Okay?”

You giggled, unaware of the future. Naive and thinking you’d never separate from him, that you were destined to stay together — as friends or whatever else fate wrote for you.

So you hit his chiselled chest just lightly, telling him, “You’re gonna make me fear heights again, Jeon.”

“Nah,” he rebutted, “I’ll show you the clouds,” he pointed to the sky you couldn’t see, hidden behind the branches and leaves, “from up close.”

“Hmm,” you voiced, “the stars aren’t enough, huh?”

“They shouldn’t be. Strive for more and stuff, right?”

Right…

For a couple seconds, you just looked at him. Nodding a little, smiling, probably lovesick with hearts floating in your eyes.

Eventually, you lifted up your body, getting to your feet with a hand against the tree. “Okay,” you finally agreed, “mountains then.”

–

The charm glimmers in the light. It flashes Jungkook a little, and he blinks, moving his gaze up to your face. You’re finishing up the remnants of your soup, bowl tilted, getting to the last drops.

But your movements are slow, and you’re quiet… and he wonders whether he stayed silent for too long, too.

He calls your name softly, meeting curious eyes. His heart immediately pounds, and he says, “I was just thinking of something.”

You smile. “Figured. I was, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You first, though.”

“Hmm.” He lets the spoon drop, looking at the empty bowl, and then suggests with folded arms, “What do you think of the mountains this year?”

You raise your eyebrows. Look at him as if you understood. As if you recognised where his mind wandered to, and where the source of this idea lies.

And then, you prove that very point when you ask, “Were you remembering the waterfall incident?”

His lips form an O, expression sickeningly sweet and surprised.

“Were you, too?”

“Just a little. Since we said we don’t want any heat this year.”

He puffs out a breath; a slight, disbelieving shake of his head follows. Then, he simply says, “Sick.”

You kiss your teeth, nodding along. “You did promise back then. Mountains, I mean.”

“I did. And we can still totally go.”

“I’d love to.”

A brief silence envelopes the room. The pause is pregnant, the air lighter than before; and then he breaks the stillness.

“Hey… you gotta admit. You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His voice harbours playfulness, but his eyes hold a glimmer of curiosity. You can’t help but chuckle; thinking back to it, your pout was hilarious. Troubles used to be different back then — your younger self wouldn’t have survived opening the door to a half naked friend. Jungkook, toned chest out, right behind her.

A crazy summer indeed.

“You kissed me that year,” you say, “and then you kissed someone else. Teenage me was going *through it.”

You scrunch your nose, and when he does it in the middle of a laugh, too, you lose your cool. Might be due to the bunny teeth flashing. The sweet crinkles around his eyes.

But you lift off the chair, hurriedly rounding the table, lean over his body and sandwich his face between your palms. You don’t waste another moment — connect your lips quickly, mouth moving against his.

He lets out a tiny sound of surprise, but doesn’t reject you. Instead, his hands wander to your waist in reciprocation, dropping to your hips and then to your—

You gasp, tongues intertwining eagerly; you taste the freshly eaten dinner. Your keen hands hold onto his dark locks. He breaks the kiss only to get to his feet, pulling you close to his body. His head tilts, the kiss deeper. Fingers cradling the nape of your neck.

And then, as he sucks in some air, he whispers, “What was that?”

“Just…” You inhale. “Catching up. Doing what I should’ve done back then.”

“She says as if I don’t kiss her *all the time.” Soft peck against your lower lip. “Or as if I wasn’t just inside her this noo—”

“You’re so obscene, Koo.”

He snickers. “Alright. Now that we know what we want to do,” his breath is warm against your skin; you shiver, “we can book the vacay a bit later, too, right?”

Breathing is hard, speaking even more.

Your lips are parted, yearning for more. You’re irritated by the layers of clothing between the two of you — which is why you’re quick to agree, “Not opposed to a break.”

“Also,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, voice tinged with anticipation, “just so you know. Our kiss *was way better than whatever I did with Jiae.”

Another soft laugh escapes your lips; the name is insignificant for you. The intoxication of the moment matters; him and you. But you still jest, “Didn’t need to connect a name to that memory.”

His chuckle matches yours, voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, you know?”

And that’s all he breathes for the next hour. Genuine confessions, tender praises — your name.

So often that you soon forget any other in the world — beyond continents and oceans.

–

liked it? then let me know!! 😁 and if you haven't yet, feel free to read the full oneshot that this drabble's a "sequel" to, as well <3

[divinesyn]

Giselle scenario based on this song: https://youtu.be/GZZluy6EXkQ?si=4OXU-DA7Kq94kaOr

hi hi! the song comes off as super chill so i decided to go with a more fluffy vibe for this one hopefully it's okay 🥺

-x-

brief: based on this song pairing: idol!reader x giselle genre: fluff with minor [useless] plot oops

-x-

AN: Sorry for the delay, been chipping away at this super slowly because of work! Didn't have much time to proof read so things might not make sense and I haven't written in AGES. Hope you enjoy :(

Promotion periods were always considered a double-edged sword in your mind. A relentless cycle of obligations that you would have to keep up with, as a single misstep could easily break the equilibrium between your mental and physical demands. The constant glare of cameras and clamor of fans wrings you out eventually, but that was the reality of it all.

Thankfully, it wasn't you who was enduring it for the time being.

Your group had just concluded a final run of promotions two weeks ago and the reprieve was more than welcomed amongst you and your members alike. If anything it was just a few minor broadcasts and public apperances to maintain some extra momentum but those were spaced well apart where they wouldn't be cumbersome and resting was guaranteed. The only issue that you saw was, well, on your laptop screen right now.

A smile graces your lips at the sight of now raven-black hair, eyes locked on Aeri as you watch her position herself on stage amongst her members. Reflective stage paneling and idly looping graphics on the main screen bounce light across her features as you watch her eyes dart around in nervousness, but that easily fades as soon as the instrumental starts.

---

It seems that your lucky streak with promotion periods has ended, seeing as Aeri and your schedules have just narrowly missed each other for this month. Given your time was spent between a stage and at the company practice rooms, the time you and Aeri have spent together was essentially non-existent aside from the occasional video call and coffee meet. Even then those times are cut short by practices accompanied by rushed I love you's and don't forget to eat as the screen goes black. You stare longingly as she performs, making sure to send a you did amazing today text with an attached photo of your laptop screen, lips quirking down at the mismatched messages you two have sent from the past month.

As their performance ends, you wait patiently throughout the night before finally receiving a reply.

aeri: Thank you baby, miss you so much &lt;3 aeri: Maybe we can meet up soon? Even if its a quick one? :(

---

To say the least, soon never really came.

The world seemed intent on keeping you two apart and the more you checked in on Aeri you could see her resolve chipping away. Even keeping yourself occupied was starting to become a challenge in itself and you find yourself checking your phone more often than you'd like as you sought out Aeri's attention. Despite all the posts she made on her social media you couldn't help but be more selfish in wanting to see her for yourself, something that isn't shared with her fans.

y/n: The choreo for my upcoming special clip with Haerin has been killing me TT

y/n: You guys finish with promotions soon right? Can finally see you soon

[Seen 37m ago]

Idly sitting on the polished floor of your company practice room, you gather up your belongings with a sigh as you ignore the slight aches in your body. Pressing your body against the door, the glass frame opens to a startled figure.

Equally startled your eyes track upward to a familiar face. One that you haven't seen in far too long.

'Aeri...?'

'Hey y/n'

Her voice sounds worn and the slightly concealed darkness under her eyes is a testimony to just how exhausted she is, but you can't refrain from the gradual welling of excitement in your body as you immediately wrap your arms around her. Taking note of the plastic bag she held in one of her hands, you tip-toed slightly to press your lips against hers.

'Missed you' Your lips parted slightly for you to mumble 'What are you doing here? Don't you have a schedule tomorrow?'

The nylon of her windbreaker rustles as she shakes her head with a grin, forehead pressing against yours briefly as she pulls away, her free hand resting lightly against your forearm.

'Ning and I have tomorrow free actually.' She gestures to herself with a flick of her hair 'So now I'm here.'

You couldn't help but chuckle though it fades as your lips quirk into a frown and Aeri is quick to notice the change.

'Is something wrong y/n?'

With a pout you meet her gaze 'Figured it would be better if you rested though, you look so tired'

Your hand reaches up to her cheek and she presses herself against it gently with a hum.

'Missed you too much to do that. Wanted to see you.' Her hand shakes the plastic bag with what you assumed to be food, mouth forming a lopsided grin. 'So how about dinner?'

---

You could always trust that the riverside was going to be busy regardless of the time but it was ambient enough for you two to pass through without being recognized, though the masks you two wore were just an extra precaution. Having been weeks on end without seeing Aeri you clung to her, arms looped as you braced the bite of the night air.

Exhausted and seemingly on edge for the past week Aeri found herself shedding the weight of expectations, her burdens melting away with each passing moment as you two meandered to a secluded spot to eat. In fact, it was her members who suggested that she go visit most likely tired of watching Aeri slouching around lovesick.

Masks strung around your jaws you ate in comfortable silence, littered with conversations about how their comeback was going and Aeri's plans of visiting her parents once they finished.

'You're free to come along as well you know. Mum loves having you around and I know you like bullying me with Dad...' Aeri chuckles, her breath fading into the darkness. 'Or we can hang out with the girls. Jimin said she wanted to go to those markets you mentioned a while ago.'

'Anything is oh-'

Aeri's thumb swipes at a drop of sauce from the corner of your lips before returning it to her mouth with a quirked brow.

'Oh?' She grins 'Continue baby'

You roll your eyes with an exasperated sigh.

'As I was saying,' You pause, teasingly glaring 'Anything is fine with you.'

'Three weeks away and as sweet as ever.'

Not even a beat passes as your lips meet hers, the warmth between the two of you transferring between the exchange. Surprised, Aeri quickly softened at the contact having realized that amidst the chaos of stardom, it was these stolen moments of intimacy that truly mattered. These nights of pure calm, far from the glare of the spotlight made her press into the kiss more in the hopes of savouring every second. You feel her reluctance as you pull away with a smile, heart overwhelmingly warm and full.

'For you? Always.'

[multifandomhaven]

Part II

TW: Mentions of animal neglect/abuse (nothing violent or descriptive - my heart can't take it). Also, I'm trying to get this as close to reality as possible, but I am in no way a doctor/veterinarian. Please, please, please don't use this as a guide for helping any animal.

I proofread this as best as I could (it's cross-posted as a fanfic so I changed MC's name to Y/N) so there might be an inconsistency(ies?) that I missed!

Y/N woke to the trilling song of a blue jay that had nested on the ledge of her window. The smooth chirps and whistles provided her a sense of peace, for when she heard it she knew she was safe in her cozy apartment. Standing on her toes she peeked into the ledge outside her window, as she did every morning, eagerly awaiting the small, blue eggs to hatch.

She yawned and stretched, rising from her bed. She straightened her t-shirt as best she could - there was no hope for the wrinkles. After she brushed her teeth and slipped on her fuzzy slippers she closed the bedroom door behind her. The warm, morning light streamed through the window by her barely-ever-used dining table.

She poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat down, pulling her laptop out to begin her day. There was an email from Mari, her favorite tech.

I know you're on leave and I'm not supposed to bother you, but we've got a cat and it's not looking good for him. A black and white stray, male. He looks like he's been through the wringer, Y/N. Animal control brought him in, and found him in a dumpster.

Y/N reread the email a few times before she clicked the attached video. The cat, obviously malnourished, bared its teeth and hissed at the person behind the camera, but didn't try to defend himself. He was tired, scared, and very sick.

Y/N frowned around her bite of food, her fingers darting over the keyboard as she typed out her response.

Give me an hour.

"Morning," John crooned from the doorway, his voice still thick with sleep. Y/N glanced up noting that he was already dressed and ready for the day. She gave him a small, forced smile as she read the email Mari sent back - saying that they'd be waiting for her.

Y/N sighed softly, her eyes drifting from her screen to John's eyes.

"What is it?" John asked.

Y/N's frown deepened and she placed her computer on the table. "I got an email saying that we have an abused animal at the office. I need to go make sure he's okay - see if he can be rehabilitated or if he needs to..." she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Of course, she'd had many animals that she'd had to put to sleep, but never did it get any easier, "rest."

"You've not been cleared to go back to the office," John reminded her stiffly. "You're still healing, and we've yet to find who ordered the attack on you."

"I can't let him suffer if he doesn't have a chance of making it," Y/N argued, her brows furrowed. "I won't stay, I swear. I'll assess him, see what needs to be done, and come home."

John sighed deeply and stared at her as if he were weighing her words, and then gave a single nod. "Only him."

A little while later, when they arrived at the office, Y/N was taken back to where the bi-colored cat lay. He was sedated, and connected to a drip to give him a little extra hydration. Tears burned her eyes and she sniffed, trying to contain them as she looked over the animal - he was thin, critically so. His fur was faded-looking and dirty. One of the techs was cleaning and wrapping a wound on his back leg.

"He was found in a dumpster," Mari reiterated from over her shoulder. Y/N noticed how the tech's gaze settled on her own still-healing bruised eye, but she ignored it. Mari didn't comment on it, instead, she continued to fill her in on the cat's condition. "He's a little on the wild side, Doc."

Y/N nodded as she listened, her heart squeezed in her chest. She couldn't help but feel like it was destiny that brought this creature to her at this exact moment. She took a deep breath to settle her emotions. "He needs a high-protein, high-fat diet supplemented with some vitamins for a few weeks." She ran her hand through his fur softly, her fingers roving over every one of his pronounced ribs. "But, all things considered, he seems like he'd be okay to be fostered."

Mari nodded, writing in his chart. "Okay. Have you heard from any of our fosters? Know anyone who's able to take him in?"

"Yeah," Y/N said softly, her eyes flicking from the cat to John, who stood out of the way in the back of the room, but always watching. She gently stroked the cat's side and looked back down at him sadly. "I'm gonna take him home with me. Get him fed and tamed down a bit. We can give this guy a new life, I'm sure of it."

"Y/N." Mari furrowed her brows. "Are you sure? I know you have a lot going on right now..."

Y/N tore her eyes from the cat, pinning Mari with a look. "I'm taking him with me. Find a carrier and a cone while I prepare him for the ride."

"Okay, okay..." Mari sighed, obviously wanting to protest, but she kept it to herself.

Y/N carefully took the IV out of the cat's leg and bandaged it as gently as she could. It was just Y/N and John in the room now. Y/N allowed her shoulders to fall as she looked back down at the battered creature on the table. "Poor little guy."

John sighed and stepped fully into the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He was looking at her, concern clear on his face. "You sure about this?"

Y/N nodded and carefully wiped at her healing eye as tears threatened to fall. "I can handle it."

"I don't doubt it," John agreed softly, giving her upper arm a gentle squeeze. "You'll fix him up."

"Yeah," Y/N agreed quietly. "He'll be okay."

Later that evening Y/N sat on the sofa with John, both of them watching the crate the cat was in. He had begun to rouse, stretching and mewling as he looked around the new environment. Y/N smiled and moved to crouch in front of the crate. She knelt, smiling softly as the cat bared its teeth at her, hissing.

"You're okay, buddy," Y/N cooed softly. "You're safe."

Curled up in the back of the crate, the cat watched her. His large, green eyes were trained on her, his head followed her as she went to the kitchen and brought back some food for him. She opened the can up and put some of the medicine she'd gotten for him on top. The smell wrinkled Y/N's nose, but she stirred it up anyway.

She opened the door, not even flinching as the cat started hissing and swatting at her hand.

"Y/N," John warned her.

"He's just scared." She told him as she pushed the bowl closer to the cat. The cat sniffed as it caught a whiff of the food. She shut the door to the cage and sat back on her knees, watching him intently.

He kept his eyes on her as he ate quickly, mewling with every bite. Once he was done he went back to the corner of the crate and laid back down.

Y/N's heart broke as she watched him. She couldn't help but wonder if this poor creature had ever known love.

Days passed and little by little Y/N had managed to worm her way into the cat's heart. She had several scratches on her hands and a bite mark or two, but she didn't let it deter her. Instead, it made her want to work harder.

"Clover," she sang softly, opening the door to his crate. She placed his bowl of food outside the cage and sat beside it, watching as he slowly emerged. He looked around the room, spotting the litter box Y/N had put just off to the side. "Come on, buddy," she encouraged him gently.

She pushed the bowl just a bit closer to him, hoping to entice him. Wary, he inched closer, his eyes never leaving her. He bent down and began to lap up the food. Y/N held back the noise of happiness that worked its way up her throat. She bit back her smile and slowly reached out, gently stroking his back.

He startled and ran back into his crate.

"Okay, okay," Y/N cooed and held her hand up in defense. She stood quietly by the door and watched him creep back over to his food. She felt John's presence looming at her back.

"He's cross with you, isn't he?" John asked with a huff. "He hasn't looked away."

"Well, he didn't scratch or bite me this time," she reminds him with a huff of laughter. "That's a step in the right direction."

[darkdemeter]

Pshhht dem, I drop this cute idea in your askbox⬇️

The horsemen (And maybe good ol' sammy) reacting to their university student! (Film major) partner inspiring their outfits on them for whenever they have to attend classes. When the horsemen (and sammy) ask why they do that they say that 1) it puts a nice challenge on their fashion skills 2)makes them feel closer to them and makes them feel less overwhelmed throughout the day.

(Inspired by: Ive been wearing horsemen inspired outfits to my uni classes, its super fun)

Have a good day and as always take your time!!!!

--Jer,a Very sleep deprived film major.

WARDROBE INSPIRATIONS

◤✘DARKSIDERS REQUESTS | CATALOGUE Horsemen + Samael x Uni student!GN Reader

NOTES ↳ That sounds like so much fun Jer I love that😭🖤 hope you enjoy my take on this and thank you for the idea submission! WARNINGS❕ ↳ just fluffy and a bit of hurt/comfort (reader gets a little anxious or low on self esteem) — certain someones get a bit thirsty, a wee little suggestive soft!18+ — I think that's it?

────────────────────────

University can be tough. It can get stressful and sometimes, you have to work around it to make it more enjoyable and fun. And hey, considering that the world is still working on rebuilding itself, it doesn't hurt to feel a little bit inspired by the ones acting as humanity's new sentinels. So...

DEATH

Of course you're going to wear skull adornments, whether that be a printed pattern on your clothes or the selected accessories. Yes, you try to keep it simple with a skull shaped necklace that you fiddle with all the time in class. Your professor tends to go into these passionate yet aggressive spews about filmography. To say that it can be overwhelming is putting it kindly, so you often find yourself playing with the little skull attached to its silver chain to keep your mind grounded.

As for the palette of your clothes, you have a very muted, darker shaded selection for your wardrobe. People might call you goth because of it, but hey, it suits the reaper. Maybe -- just maybe -- he slightly encouraged it beneath a dry chuckle and sarcastic drawl. Then you took it literally just to see his reaction... and there wasn't a single fucking thing! This Horseman was like a fucking brick wall. Not a damn bat of the eye, double take or even a half-assed compliment. Yes, it did put the tongue in your cheek and it did make your eyes squint in his direction whenever you stood purposefully in front of the mirror, humming loudly to yourself for an extra few minutes in hopes of gaining his impute. But he'd only say, "You're going to miss your classes." "Dust gives me more feedback and he's a bird! He doesn't even speak English!"

Death only glances up from the grooming process of Harvester, his eyes narrowed and face forever placid; unreadable. "Ugh, right... fine, classes, I'm going..." Death has admittedly played a major role in your life. Funny enough, you travelled the realms with him. A film student and a Horsemen... fun times. Until your sad ending where you lamented the fact that Death indeed played the role of a hero who sacrificed himself. The little skull necklace you wear actually holds a greater significance to you. Death of course noticed how you would caress it nervously, playing with it as you sat at your desk with your laptop screen lighting up your face in the dark. You... found it when Death disappeared into the well and you felt so lost. You had no sense of direction after that and for a while you felt stuck in a looping cycle of grief. Then you came across the unique charm and from them on, you always felt closer to Death, even when you knew he was gone. When you reunited with him, he noticed its presence immediately, huffing that the skull shared a likeness to his own mask. He doesn't at all much care with the way you dress in either casual attire or more flashy styles, merely rolling his eyes and sighing. He'll never fully understand the concept of humans being so focused on the way their clothing apparel looks. But of course, there is a weak point and the grim reaper himself isn't completely immune to this. You did wear that one outfit that had his amber eyes flickering like disturbed flames in the sunken bowels of his mask.

You'd appeared to be divine reincarnate, an intricate piece of artwork that he could fully appreciate. Yes, maybe he was a little prideful that day because what you were wearing was inspired by him. "I like that one. It suits you." Finally! That was the first, and only, compliment he voiced in regards to your actual fashioned outfit. He'd been thankful that his old, worn-down bone mask hid the flaunt of his dusted cheeks that day. Other than that, he relatively remained quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself. The only part he would always train his focus on and visibly show his interest in was that necklace. He understands that it means a lot to you and over time, it's also become tied to him. He's almost had a manic episode when you couldn't find it anywhere in your small room, almost tearing all four walls down with the aid of his siblings to find the necklace. "It's okay! I found it, it was just in the bathroom." But now in the tiring days of uni, hours dedicated more to your studies rather than sleep had you constantly reminded of the little charm around your neck and no matter how daunting the day felt, no matter how hopeless and wrecked you felt when assignments were due; you could always count on the little skull mask to keep you company in the meantime. All in all, Death is more of a sentimental type of reactor, instead focusing on the finer and more meaningful details rather than the materialistic regard. To him, the outfits don't compare to you. Not in a million years. But if you wear something black and form fitting, you're bound to catch those amber eyes on you with a prowess of hunger and admiration...

STRIFE

This gun-slinging Nephilim is just as into your wardrobe fashion as you, I swear. In the beginning, he's a tad or more confused, asking why you appear to be selecting familiar colours to his own armor and attire-- and oh shit, is that a matching scarf? Alright he's sold. Totally isn't also because he saw the few picked out undergarments you tried to sneak past him... You'll catch this witty Nephilim fawning over your matching scarf, it's just a fact. The colours of your recent wardrobe inspired by Strife, often replicate a palette of dark to almost black grays with a lot of lighter toned shades as well. You like to collect little gun and pistol charms that you either attach to your keychain or to your bag you take to class, finding them useful to play with absently while seated in class. However you dress he will find a way to support it because he wants to you feel good and secure in what you wear. "Hey, what's with the sad eyes, babe?" he asks, doing his best to cheer you up. His helm is off, showing off the handsome mug that is his rugged, defined features and that wolfish, fanged grin of his.

He stands behind you and those golden eyes of him stare at you with this fondness you find unworthy of being on you. "I don't think these pants match this shirt. I thought they did when I first bought them but now... I don't think it looks good. I think I'll just wear those sweatpants and hoodie again and get to class." You sound so defeated as you begin to search for the oversized articles of clothing you're opting to hide yourself beneath. Strife, with a sharpened tsk of his tongue and shake of his head, he snatches hold of your wrist and pulls you back to him with a reeling force. "C'mon, give me a twirl." Your brows furrow at this though your lips strain between a smile and grimace.

Was he really trying to compliment the horrible combination you picked out? His brows cock up, silently beckoning you to do so and you do, sighing quietly as you spin around slowly.

"Da-ham! You sure you gotta go to class today? I think missing one lesson for a date is worth it." Cheekily, he adds a wink and you feel your cheeks paint with a warmth an your features ease into a flustered smile. "Maybe after my class today." He grumbles with a pout but overall, he smile doesn't disappear for long. He's glad that he's managed to cheer you up. "I think I know what will put this together," he says and turns, rummaging around your closet like a feverish raccoon digging through trash. You're almost knocked in the head by several belts, an old duffel bag and a few sweaters. Finally, Strife returns and begins to wrap that scarf around your shoulders and neck, styling it much like his with the twin fabrics falling behind you.

"There you are," he grins with a deep chuckle, eyes shining brighter. "Now you've the inspired look of a horseman."

You choke on your words, eyes growing wide. "H-how did you know I—"

He leans down to brush the tip of his nose to yours, pulling you until your front is fully pressed to his own. "I put two and two together, babe. You look amazing in my colours."

As an add on because he knows you need the boost, you'll catch a shadow flittering past the window.

"What the fuck?!—" One of your classmates exclaim. Their reaction is followed by the several others who all rush off to the opposite corner of the classroom.

Only you remain seated, seemingly unaffected by their panic. You've dealt with way worse when you and Strife travelled the realms together, what could possibly be so bad outside—

Your once dullened eyes that were drowning in boredom brighten, lips freed from being nervously nibbled on. You grin widely with your teeth, abashed. Strife stands at the window with an old white poster board pressed flat on the window, scrawled in his handwriting, ' You're outfit rocks babe! ;D '

WAR

The classroom can get very cold in the winter months. And you couldn't subject War to sit beside you in class, providing you with both comfort and heat. So you go out on a mad spree to buy all the warm clothing that reminds you of him, consisting mostly of large, red sweaters and hoodies and scarves. To match the darker under suit of his armor, you pick out many pants and long sleeved tops in the same colour and to finally pull it all together... some stylish ugg boots! And you can't forget the fluffy fingerless gloves you got that match the silver adornments of his gauntlets.

Yes, Strife and Fury did catch you wearing this very replicated outfit the way to class and somehow they actually managed to mistake you for War, thinking that he shrunk. When War arrives at your dorm and enters, he can't find you at first. He only hears the muffled sound of your voice that beckoned him inside. "Y/N? Where are you?" he asks, head sloping sideways like a confused pup. You spring out from under the mountain of clothes piled on your bed. He'd thought he'd awoken an old demi-god from the way you rose up.

"Hi!" you greet happily, arms thrown out and you jump into his arms that catch you in a hug. "What is all of this?" he asks after he sets you back down on your feet and with a giggle, you pull him a little closer. "Okay, okay, so you know how I attend my university classes still?"

"I thought the building was destroyed..."

Your lips purse together in thought. Yes, the building was in a sorry state, so much so that it was why the classroom suffered poorly in winter. "Yes," you squeak out, "and winter is approaching and the room gets really cold. So! to counteract this, and the fact that I miss you. A lot. Everyday. I bought an abundance of clothes that were inspired by you!"

You can see the cogs in his head turning and the way his eyes narrow into a thoughtful glare. To further get across what it was that you meant, you began to piece together your outfit that would funnily enough be your damn near replica to his outfit in a more human, casual sense. "I see," he drawls lowly. He watches as you collect the articles off the bed and rush off to the bathroom. "Wait until you see it, it's going to blow your mind."

Some minutes pass by and War slowly paces back and forth across the flat of your dorm, waiting. The click of the door alerts him and he spins on his heel, his blue eyes beaming down the short hall at you. You step out, adjusting the red cowl of your hood and walk towards him, almost with a cocky saunter in your step. "What do you think?" He takes a moment before his scarred lip forms into a smile a the sight of it makes your heart melt. "I like it. You were inspired by me?" "Mhmm!"

You begin to do a little dance, showing off your outfit in a more silly fashion, laughing to yourself with the way War's eyes peel wider open, staring at you with this striking awe, unblinking. "Think I pulled off your look?"

"Without a doubt, my little human." He pulls you into his chest, his lips brushing over the crown of your head as he smothers you with his warmth, erasing the profound chill in your room and you sigh in contentment.

FURY

Fury just about walked right out of the shopping mall the instant you crossed the threshold. But with some words of encouragement and maybe a promise that you'd spoil her with some of that famous Gelato joint, she crossed the most dangerous battlefield she ever could in this lifetime. She notices how you keep looking at her every few seconds as you browse the clothing section, eyes squinted in your study. There were a few times she snarled, "What?"

"Nothing," you reply with a dismissive shrug. Oh, you could not handle the way she was judging you throughout the checkout process, almost scrutinising every piece you ran through. But thankfully, she seemed distracted with the gelato to forget about the shattering of your piggy bank.

She is astute and observant but it appears she missed the pattern of your choice of wardrobe until after you got back to the dorm and began to style and try on a few different combinations to find the most suitable ones. Like a switch turning on, she bluntly asks, "Did you pick out clothing that resembles me?" Sheepishly, you nod. But then Fury's lips quirk into a smugly laced smirk, eyes thinning in that prideful boast. You couldn't help but smile back. You're friends in class were going to be so jealous... and Fury was on board with that notion.

In fact, she is quite the fashion guru. A hidden talent of hers and one so deeply suppressed that even she was in awe herself with the outfits you both were putting together. She did swear you to secrecy that this side of her remain between the two of you, willing to load the credit onto you instead if only to save face from her brothers.

A strange mix of autumn and spring wear, a rainbow of aesthetically aligning colours from maroon, white and paler tones of purple. Silver jewelry is much suited to Fury, but if you do wear gold, it has to be simple. Maybe some golden, small hooped earrings, a golden ring or two and a thin gold chain necklace. You stand before Fury, two sleeved tops hovering back and forth on their hangers as you try to decide which one. "What do you think, Fury?"

"That one," she points at the dark maroon short, not even giving the other one a spare glance. Before you can even ask if she wants to see the other one, she interjects haughtily. "It matches your eyes better, I find." Her lips suddenly clap shut, slimming. She's never been that forward with her compliments before.

Warmth covers your cheek and neck. Was that her way of complimenting you? With a nod, you then toss aside the other shirt in favour of the one she chose. Pulling it over your head, you indeed agree that it looks much better, matching your eyes in a way that draws attention to them.

"You're really good at this, Fury," you giggle and you watch her shake her head, looking away. She only hums in agreement and you turn to her with a frown. Was something wrong? Cautious and aware that her temper did always get the best of her at times, you approach her and sit beside her on the bed. Your hand finds hers, squeezing it tenderly. "You okay?" "Yes, yes I am... I just..." Every time you almost catch her white, glowing eyes, she's quick to turn away.

"Fury, talk to me."

"It's just— you look so beautiful and I... I don't understand."

Your eyes lower to look down at your feet, pondering for a moment. Swallowing and calming the rapid pace of your heartbeat, time announcing the nearing hour of your class long since forgotten. "You know... it can get tedious in class sometimes. Boring and cold too. Even when my friends are there, I get this weird sense that I'm alone and I never feel that way when you're around."

Fury's head finally lifts up and she meets your gaze. "Then why don't just stop attending?" Her question is abrupt. Yes, it could be read as selfish but also, from her view, why waste your time with something you don't see worthwhile. You sigh with a shrug.

"I enjoy what I'm studying. But what I'm trying to say is that I had this thought that if I inspire my clothing after you, then maybe I won't get that strange and awful feeling when I'm in class. I hope that it lets me feel closer to you when you're not there with me."

Your fingers twine and wrangle together, taunting the bones and knuckles to ache under your grip and your knee bounces, uneasy. You wait for her to say something -- anything. She turns to you and loops an arm around you, pulling you close to her.

"Oh human, you're a silly little creature. But I love that about you and know that I'm never far."

(+ Bonus) SAMAEL

Samael adores you and your fashion statement in a way that only a demon lord can, going as far to even have intricate and unique accessories made to fit the style you're going for. He has a dark love for the many shaded pigments of red you chose in your recent shopping haul. He may be a dweller of the hellish pits but he is the Lord of Blackstone Keep. Give him credit, he has taste.

He watches you with a keen amount of interest, either silently smirking as he rolls his hand down the pronounced horn of his chin and his ember eyes flaring with that of a breathing hearth. Showers you with compliments that are undoubtedly laced with a sensual undertone -- Samael savours you and lusts for you in a way no mortal is capable of.

Samael is especially interested in the outfits you pick out that appear more flashy or risqué. He wonders if you're trying to purposefully flaunt yourself like a majestic peacock at this point but you are his dear one, he expects no less. He has a major complex that all the eyes of your peers should be upon you.

But there are times that you don't have confidence that day in what you're wearing... "I don't know, Sammy..." you sigh, shoulders deflating with what little remained of your self esteem. His hands cover you entirely, over your shoulders and down to your waist and thighs. "Shall I have the blacksmiths forge something to add to it?"

You shake your head, humming in thought as you gaze at your reflection. It's not that you think something is missing, in fact you think you may be overdoing it.

"Should I go with something more simple this week? I don't really have the energy, not with all these assignments due."

Samael huffs to himself. Not to belittle you, he just deems that any human who isn't you is beneath you, that you shouldn't have need to resign yourself to such lower thoughts and worry. No, he says again what he always says. "My dearest one, you are the grandiose of your kind. You are far more intelligent and stunning than those other mongrels who scrape at your feet an your so-called professor... hmph, he sounds more of a court jester than an actual expert in his study."

He tilts your chin up higher, raising both your gaze and your spirits and his lips twist into that crooked smirk you have come to love. Shyly, your lashes flutter as you blink and try to let your eyes fall away, but Samael doesn't relent. "Anything you wear, I believe looks perfect on you." "Aw, thanks, Sammy." You giggle, feeling an improvement in your mood and after another once over and turn here and there, you can't remember what it was you were so worried about. It's a fucking gorgeous outfit and most of all, it was inspired by Samael. You know he devours the thought that he is the muse of your inspiration. Humans often inspired by a great source that fuels their creation, of course he is greatly prideful in that. "But I am not opposed to seeing it all on the floor," he teases with a low purr and you physically have to bat away his creeping hands with a yelp, shielding your hotly reaction from him as he chuckles darkly.

"Samael!"

[joshsindigostreak]

O, Pioneers

Prologue

“Resist much, obey little.” - Walt Whitman

Sam Kiszka x F!OC

Authors note: Welcome Sam lane!!! This is the official start to Sam’s journey in the ISHIYE universe. This one starts around the same time ISHIYE started, so we’ll basically see what Sam has been up to this whole time. I will say that O, Pioneers along with every other spin off will make the most sense if ISHIYE is read beforehand. It’s all an interconnected universe and all the fics will reference each other to varying degrees. Every chapter besides this one will include a flashback to his Uni days. I hope you guys love this and I want to make Sammy Nation proud! I also hope you love my OC Natasha, as she just jumped into my head one day and hasn’t shut up since. Danny will also be heavily featured, it his actual story will be its own titled, “Running Through the Garden.” This is relatively short, but it’s a good little preview of what’s to come! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2060

Warnings: None for this chapter other than sweating!

It started with an email. One, stupid, email. One, professional, email. An email from one academic to another. Natasha just needed an extra source. Specifically, she needed to get her hands on a very specific journal. A journal that contained anatomical drawings and first hand accounts of the Lake Leelanau Creature. Colloquially it is referred to as the Leelanau Lake Monster, but the use of the word “monster” is frowned upon in Supernatural and Academic circles. Annoyingly, she only knew of one person who would be in possession of said journal. The one person whom she was perfectly fine never speaking to again: Sam Kiszka. He had built up quite the reputation in recent years with rumors of his immense archives and collection of particular artifacts. 

Natasha wrinkled her nose and adjusted her glasses as the cursor blinked on the screen. She could write emails like this in her sleep but the thought of asking him for something? Giving him the satisfaction that she needed his help? She’d rather be hit by a bus. However, she needed this information for an upcoming presentation and she had gathered almost all of her resources except this one. Adjusting her cat-eye frames one more time, she began typing.

From: nedelaney@lakewooduniversity.edu 

To: sfkiszka@stardustarchives.com

CC:

Subject: Lake Leelanau Journal

Dear Sam,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to you for a request for some scans from a book I know you possess and are familiar with: the Gautheir journal. Currently I am in the middle of a research project involving North American Sea Serpents and I need the pages with the anatomical drawings in particular, as well as any other pages pertaining to the first sighting of the Creature. Any contributions beyond that would be most appreciated. 

Kind Regards, 

Natasha E. Delaney 

States away, in eastern Michigan, a young scholar was startled by the sudden ding on his laptop, alerting him of a new email. With an arched brow he opened his inbox, and seeing the email address in the top bar brought back hoards of memories. 

Natasha. Fucking. Delaney. The only person to ever score higher on tests than him, to easily skate past him in grades, keep up with him during lectures, and narrowly beat out his GPA for the top of their graduating glass. He hadn’t spoken to her since graduation almost three years ago, but he couldn’t help being amused at the fact that she needed his help. He could just imagine that icy blonde hair of hers sitting on top of her head in a bun, those obnoxious cat-eye glasses resting on her nose while she bites the bullet and asks for his help. With a smirk on his face, he clicked on the reply button and began typing.

From: sfkiszka@stardustarchives.com

To: nedelaney@lakewooduniversity.edu 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Dear Natasha, 

Unfortunately your email did not find me well, as I am in the middle of several projects myself. Here at Stardust Archives™ the stream of knowledge never stops, and neither shall I. I also regret to inform you that scanning said journal for those particular pages will be impossible, as that journal is much too fragile to be handled in such a way. I do however have a few recommendations for similar sources, which I have attached to this email. I am so sorry I was not able to assist you further. 

Good luck on your endeavors, 

Sam F. Kiszka 

He sat back as he clicked send, knowing that most of it was horse shit. He hadn’t been in an actual project in nearly a month, but she didn’t know that. But he wasn’t lying about the journal being too fragile for scanning. Theoretically it would be ok with current technology, but he didn’t want to risk it as it was a trusted family heirloom that was given to him in confidence. In this business, keeping contacts happy was nearly half the job. Word of mouth was crucial, and if you couldn’t be trusted to handle things with respect and care, what good were you? Satisfied, he stood up from his desk to go back to the new shipment of books he was sorting. 

“That mother fucker,” she seethed. Natasha read his email again, mocking the ‘here at Stardust Archives™…’ line to herself while scrunching up her face. She knew for a fact that while that journal was old, it wasn’t that old. The librarian who had recommended that particular volume to her in the first place even said that it shouldn’t be any trouble to get scans of the pages. To make it worse, those ‘resources’ he had sent weren’t helpful at all, and didn't even go into detail of the anatomy of the Creature, which was what she truly needed. Rolling her eyes, her fingers began tapping out her rebuttal. 

From: nedelaney@lakewooduniversity.edu

To: sfkiszka@stardustarchives.com 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Sam,

I’m so sorry to hear how busy you are. However I was told specifically that the Gauthier journal was preserved enough that scans wouldn’t be a problem at all. Has something changed? Has it been damaged in any way since it was last made public? I hope such an integral part to your own state's history would be treated with the utmost care. If I remember correctly from that class we both took, with Professor Andrews, paper from that time period would still be stable if exposed to light or a scanning device. In fact I remember he said once, “as long as you’re not mashing it down on a decrepit photo copier from 1993…”. Surely you have a better scanner than that? If you could get those scans to me as soon as you’re able, that would be wonderful. 

Regards, 

Natasha

The ding from Sam’s laptop alerted him again, and his smile quickly faded when he opened the mail program and saw Natasha’s response. On one hand, she had the right idea, but on the other hand, whatever project she needed it for was not worth the risk in his eyes. His mouth hung open in offense with her questioning his integrity to Michigan history. Artifacts from his home state were always given top priority, and to have her imply that he was being careless with any of them made his entire body tense. Instinctively, he wanted to just send back a simple, ‘no,’ but he knew that would only make her more relentless. 

From: sfkiszka@stardustarchives.com

To: nedelaney@lakewooduniversity.edu 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Nat,

You aren’t entirely wrong about it being possible, however the family who entrusted it to me made me promise -in writing- to keep it as well preserved as I possibly could. As such, any form of scanning or sudden exposure to light is just not an option.  I hope that the other resources I sent you were enough to suffice. I know whatever project you’re needing them for will manifest in the most riveting way. 

Godspeed, 

Sam F. Kiszka

Natasha tilted her head and cracked her neck when she saw the shortened form of her first name. She hated being called Nat. It was too close to the word for those annoying bugs. Worst of all, it was what her older sisters called her just to get under her skin. All three of them would repeat it over and over again when she was little and laughed when she got upset. Her oldest sister would even take it a step further and call her ‘Natty’ on occasion. She hated how it sounded, how it looked, and she much preferred the nickname ‘Tasha’ if she had a choice. Most of her fellow students called her Tasha, as well as her close friends. Even on blind dates she’d introduce herself as Tasha before anything else. 

From: nedelaney@lakewooduniversity.edu

To: sfkiszka@stardustarchives.com 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Samuel,

I appreciate your passion for the preservation of critical documents, it’s truly inspiring, Professor Andrews would be proud. But I think you’re being rather difficult here. If not unreasonable. And no, those other resources did not help as they are not relevant to my ongoing project. I appreciate your confidence in my work, but what would truly help me be on my way would be your cooperation. 

Impatiently, 

Tasha

Sam stared at the screen. She really wasn’t going to let up, was she? He thought for a moment, and something in his brain wanted to physically hear her ask for his help. Maybe it was his ego, maybe it wasn’t, but he was impulsive enough to go out on a limb to satiate it. 

From: sfkiszka@stardustarchives.com

To: nedelaney@lakewooduniversity.edu 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

‘Tasha’,

Unfortunately, I must be away from my desk at this time due to other projects and meetings. However, if you would like to continue our correspondence, I will happily provide you my number for your convenience. 

(248) 555-9423

In eternal anticipation, 

‘Muel’

Natasha stared at the phone number on her screen. That little shit. He wanted to hear her ask. It didn’t take a genius to figure that part out. Maybe he wanted her to beg? He was arrogant enough to want such a thing. She wasn’t going to give in that easily. She wanted his arrogance in writing. If he couldn’t be professional and stick to emails, he was going to have her in his pocket at all times, constantly making his phone go off. Quickly she added his number as a new contact, and typed out her first ever text to Sam F. Kiszka. 

Natasha: Ok cut the shit, Kiszka why are you being difficult? 

Sam: Who is this?

Natasha: I swear to god, Sam

Sam: Ok ok, fine. Do you really want to see this journal that badly? 

Natasha: I have wasted an entire afternoon emailing you about it, so yes. 

Sam: Well as I said I can’t scan the pages. But if you would like to view them in person for your research, that can easily be arranged. 

Natasha: In person?

Sam: Yes, that's when people meet face to face. 

Natasha: I’m going to ignore that for my sanity, but don’t you live in Michigan?

Sam: Yes.

Natasha: You do know that I’m in Lakewood for my Masters right?

Sam: Yes, what is the issue?

Natasha: So you want to travel all the way to Vermont just because you are refusing to scan the pages? 

Sam: Oh I wouldn’t bring an artifact that fragile on a plane, you know that. You can simply come here. I know there’s a break coming up, if I remember our old schedule correctly. 

Natasha nearly threw her phone, but she wasn’t going to give up. Before she could fully type out a response she got another text.

Sam: And don’t worry about needing a hotel there’s plenty of room upstairs for you. My parents are in Canada on business and my brothers are off doing god knows what. 

Natasha: I’m sure I can find a hotel I don’t want to put you out

Sam: It's really no trouble, we have a separate guest room anyway that barely gets used 

She mulled it over for a few minutes. 

Natasha: Well I’ve never been to Michigan.

Sam: It’s much better than Vermont.

She sighed.

Natasha: Fine. I’ll talk to my professors and get it sorted out. The break starts in two days. 

Sam smirked at his phone and leaned back in his chair,  he was right.

Sam: Excellent. I’ll go dust the window sills and pick out the fanciest chocolate for your pillow.

Natasha: I’ll text you my flight details. 

Sam: Can’t wait, Nat ;)

Not wanting him to know that he bothered her, Natasha set her phone down and opened up another webpage to look up flights. By the weekend she was going to not only be in Sam Kiszka’s presence for the first time since graduation, but staying at his fucking house. 

What the fuck did she just agree to? 

To be continued...

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden  , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky ,

[xinyuehui]

Love and Deepspace PC tutorial

Not sure if anyone wants to play this on their PC but I'll drop a basic tutorial anyways (please don't repost this on twitter or any other platforms ty)

Things to know before we start:

It's only available in Chinese

HOWEVER you can switch the voices to English, so they will speak to you in English, but the interface language will still be in Chinese

Your PC will need to be able to enable Virtualization Technology (VT) (and maybe at least 8GB RAM so it can run the game smoothly)

Did I mention it's in Chinese? Yeah, it's in Chinese

Still wanna do this? Come on board ↓

Step 1

Download the .exe file on the official site and install it

https://deepspace.papegames.com/

The .exe is essentially an emulator with the game attached to it. You can later then use the store in the emulator to download all sorts of other games too, such as Tears of Themis, Light and Night etc...they are all officially licensed

Step 2

Once you run the game, it should come up with a QR code which will direct you to a page on the Mumu emulator site instructing you on how to enable VT based on the PC you have

I don't have a screenshot because I've already enabled it

If you can make sense of the instructions, great! The operating menus will be in English anyways

However if none of this makes sense to you, find a tutorial on google/youtube for your PC type, try looking up "how to enable virtualization in bios"

Step 3

Once all the VT is sorted it's pretty simple, log in and start the game

Step 4

Once you get to the starting page, it probably looks identical to the English version

Change the language if you wanna hear them speak English

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

Extras

Press F11 to go full screen mode

It will automatically go landscape in battle mode. Control with wasd keys and mouse, or connect a controller to it. (I've tried with PS4 controller and it works, but only the joysticks because I haven't figured it out myself how to assign buttons lol)

If you're playing on a laptop or a monitor that can be turned vertical, you can use this function to turn the game window vertically

To experience the maximum screen space, you can set your emulator to the iPad dimensions

Use the same height and width in the screenshot above

This should be enough to get you started, the VT bit might be a little tricky and scary since you do not need to access BIOS in normal day to day use. The rest of the menus, if you know it in English by heart it shouldn't be difficult to navigate, just fiddly. I supposed you can take some screenshots of the mobile ver and have it on hand when you need to navigate it on the PC.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

If anyone has any questions regrading setting it up etc... feel free to drop me an ask with an image (◕‿◕✿)

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First.

part 4.

Zoe managed to find her bearings, call an uber, and get home in one piece.

It was early afternoon by the time she got out of the shower. She took an extra long shower, staying under the hot water longer than usual. Nothing could make her feel clean enough after the night she had.

She stepped out and into a fluffy towel, and wrapped her hair up in a 2nd towel. She Ordered Chinese off UberEats, put lotion on her legs and put on the baggiest pair of sweatpants she owned. She pulled on an old Columbia T-Shirt, and started combing her hair. She made her way into the living room, lit a candle and grabbed her laptop and recorder. She placed them on the cushion next to her and grabbed her phone and her charger, setting up camp in the living room. By then, she received a notification her food had arrived. She settled back onto the couch with her laptop in her lap and a plate of chicken and broccoli on the coffee table in front of her. She pressed play on the recorder and took a deep breath.

Let's begin.

5 hours later, she was done.

She was proofreading for the 10th time, making sure everything was perfect. Believe it or not, she had a lot of material on her recorder. After a drink or two, he really opened up and became comfortable talking with her. He let his guard down and was candid, talking about his hesitations with taking certain jobs and his struggles adjusting to life under a microscope.

It was hard for Zoe to listen to, as what she heard on the tape recorder was not the asshole she woke up next to. The man on the recorder was just that; a man who had a very public job, but also had fears, concerns, hobbies, a family, etc. He was human. She learned about the man Cillian Murphy, Irish native who was a failed musician. Who likes to pour jalapenos on top of his popcorn. Who reads poetry in his spare time. And isn't that what Zoe went into journalism for? To learn and connect with people?

Zoe sighed and saved the doc and attached it to an email to her editor. Holding her breath, she typed a quick "Cillian Murphy Piece" in the subject line, and clicked send.

She exhaled. Done.

She rolled her neck, normally she would treat herself to a beer but her stomach churned at the thought. She grabbed her remote and turned on Netflix and selected Suits, picking up where she left off.

She took a bite of her food, now cold.

Ok, so maybe I slept with Cillian Murphy, She thought. Best case is, no one will ever believe it. Worst case is, people saw. and they do believe it.

"My life is a fucking joke" Zoe said out loud, to absolutely no one.

Zoe heard her phone go off, the notification she assigned for a new email.

Zoe assumed it was her editor confirming receipt of the email, like he usually does. However, she stared at her phone.

Something was nagging at her. An alarm went off in her head; this wasn't a confirmation. Her father always said trust your gut, and her gut - although currently a little bloated and full of Chinese - was never wrong. This wasn't a confirmation email.

She opened her phone and sure enough she had an email from her boss with the subject line "Tomorrow"

Zoe,

Just got an email that concerns you - can we please meet at 10am tomorrow? Ms. Hannah Woods will be joining us from Elite.

Thanks,

Donna

Who the fuck is Hannah? Elite? Elite what?

Zoe loved her boss, but she was so vague. She had a habit of talking about people as if Zoe knew them.

Was Hannah an employee? She opened up linkedIn and typed in Hannah woods. Zoe found her page - Hannah was a publicist at Elite Talent.

Zoe closed out LinkedIn and opened up google and searched Elite Talent, finding their page. She poked around the website, and found a list of publicists and their contact info. She found Hannah's and clicked on her. It brought her to Hannah's own page on the Elite Talent website, her picture filling her computer screen along with a little blurb about herself. On the side, it had a list of clients that she managed. Zoe's heart dropped.

Hannah was Cillian's publicist.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He told his publicist. Zoe thought, heart beating out of her chest.

"is this because I insulted your stupid Guinness??" She groaned out loud, her head in her hands.

Zoe begrudgingly responded to Donna's email, saying she'll be there.

Zoe slammed her laptop shut, stood up, and made her way to the kitchen.

So much for not drinking" she said out loud, grabbing a beer.

tags: @lau219

[oddcryptidwrites]

What's In Your Bag Tag

@the-down-upside-finch tagged me in this one! I'll tag @laffy-taffy-creations @wordswrittenbynight @downtoithaca (no pressure!) and whoever else wants to play!

What sort of items (maybe it's just one thing) does your OC always have with them, either in their bag or pockets?

For this one, I'll do IASH, because most of the NYTF characters don't carry bags.

Brigid -- checkerboard bookbag + pockets

Mantle (black superhero mask) shoved into the top pocket

a mixed bottle of ibuprofen, naproxen sodium, acetaminophen, and aspirin.

spare lipstick, eyeliner, setting powder, and mascara

deodorant

hair ties

bike shorts and tank top

folder for schoolwork (never carries their binders/books)

a singular black pen

laptop and charger

headphones

wallet + Metrocard

car keys

phone

Martin -- black messenger bag + pockets

camera case (+ camera)

wallet

apartment key (attached to wallet via a shoelace)

jeans and a t-shirt

work apron, hat, and nametag

business cards

if not worn, mantle (silver skull ring)

Melody -- brown leather tote bag + pockets

Schoolbooks + binders

a full pencil pouch with anything you'd ever need

tablet + charger

journal

agenda/planner

lip balm

extra pins for her hijab

sports hijab

mantle (black plague mask) + lockbox for safekeeping

naproxen sodium and ibuprofen

earbuds (wired)

phone

wallet + Metrocard

dorm keys

Madds -- Galaxy print bookbag + pockets

book(s) on quantum physics

mother's work notebook

school binder (singular)

mantle (black cloak) usually shrunk down and just tied around the handle/hanging loop like a bandanna (or however you spell that)

pencil pouch (a few pens of varying colors and pencils)

laptop + charger (never charged)

headphones (broken)

earbuds (broken)

name-brand tylenol

lip balm

hand lotion

stopwatch

leggings and t-shirt

dice

DND character sheet

wallet (+ metrocard)

dorm keys

phone

Elías -- grey bookbag + pockets

schoolbooks + binders

DND journal + DM stuff (like the screen)

dice (like 10 sets)

pencil pouch (full)

foldable cane

acetaminophen + ibuprofen

Metrocard (shared with Martin)

apartment key (on a lanyard)

monster energy drink(s)

phone (keeps cards in back of case, no wallet)

earbuds

[gleefullypolin]

Dating Lady Whistledown by GleefullyPolin

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57046732/chapters/145081255

Summary: Eloise always thought that her idiot brother was merely a distraction for their shared friend Penelope, always in her ear and never allowing her a moment to venture out on her own. But when Penelope begins online dating and finally meets a man who starts to slowly win her heart, was fate truly at play all along?

Chapter 3: Date Night

“To have someone understand our mind is a different kind of intimacy altogether.” Faraaz Kazi

Pen watched the street below from her window as people bustled around to get to their next destination, unaware that anyone was paying attention to their steps. She had always enjoyed people watching, intruding when others had no notion of an invasion of privacy. She was good at not being noticed. In fact, people rarely noticed her, blending into the background without much effort.

Were it not for Eloise, Pen was sure that she would never leave her flat much less talk to humans on a daily basis. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel the need to connect, everyone yearned for physical and emotional attachment, she only wished she didn’t already find that emotional need satisfied in one specific person. She was sure that was what was holding her back from seeking out a physical relationship.

This online scheme of Eloise’s was ridiculous but perhaps if she could form an emotional attachment with someone other than Colin it might lead to giving her the courage, she needed to step into the real world to find someone physical.

She peered back down at her laptop and breathed out heavily as she re-read the message from the one reply she received on her introduction. She grinned at the olive joke, trying not to compare the pun to something Colin would say. The entire point of this exercise was to get over her connection to Colin, she reminded herself. She tapped her nails against the keys, mustering up her courage.

“Bravery, Pen.” She whispered.

LadyWhistledown: While one would assume being called a virgin at my age would be assaulting, I shall take it as a compliment coming from another such as yourself in this circumstance. I would not want anyone to feel terrified alone, so allow me to offer up any assistance you may need in navigating these dangerous waters.

Pen stared at the screen with half a mind to delete the words in front of her. Was she flirting enough, too much, not enough? “Shit, I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?” The door to her shared flat opened and closed as Eloise entered with a coffee in her hand.

“Flirting, how do I do it?” She frowned. Eloise’s head popped behind her shoulder as she read the words on the screen.

“Lonely Traveler. Extra Virgin. Why do you always seem attracted to men who make stupid jokes?” She mused.

“It was sweet.” She giggled. “Besides, he was nice enough to make me feel welcomed and this is all very intimidating El. I’m finding all of this to be, well, a bit out of my league.” She took in a deep breath and glared at the words again. “I’m going to delete it.” She leaned forward and her friend grabbed her hands.

“You’ll do no such thing. It’s fine, Pen.” She grinned and pointed at the screen. “Besides, he seems eager to return your remarks.”

Pen looked back at the screen to see his quick response.

LonelyTraveler: Well, I definitely would not want a lady to feel assaulted in any way, allow me to send my deepest apologies immediately for my poor taste in humor. I fear I might have oiled it right in there inappropriately. I will greatly accept your assistance as I fear I am lost at sea and in need of a compass.

Eloise snorted. “Oh Lord, this one is a mess.”

“I think he’s perfectly adorable.” Pen cooed, tapping her fingers on the keyboard immediately as she began her reply.

“Careful Pen, you don’t want to seem over eager.” Her friend teased as she sat down her coffee and moved to the kitchen.

“Oh hush, you are the one was encouraging me to do this, you don’t get to tell me how to behave now.”

LadyWhistledown: Well sir, I accept your apology, but I must let you in on a you a secret, as long as you promise not to use it against me. I find your humor slightly adorable, so whoever has told you it is in poor taste should have ten lashings at once. I insist. Though I do not know if I will be good at navigation, I have never been good at reading even a simple map, so I’m not certain our fate would not be destined to the same end, dooming us both to a life adrift.

Satisfied with her response she hit enter and set about getting ready for her day. Her phone buzzed with an incoming text from Colin, and she ignored the small tingling of guilt that tugged at her heart as she opened it. She wasn’t sure why she felt guilty. She wasn’t cheating on Colin, they were friends, only ever friends to her chagrin. But still, it was like having thoughts filling a place in her heart that only Colin had ever lived.

My Favorite Person: Good Morning best friend of my life! You missed the most glorious sun rise I have ever laid eyes on. I think it may have been the best one yet! I know, I know one of these days I promise you will get to see it, for it is meant to be shared and I keep stealing it away for my own! I’m sending the chapter tonight, I do not fear my sister, perhaps maybe a little, but never tell her I said that. All is well. I’ll call you later!

She chewed her bottom lip into her mouth as her fingertips lazily traced the words on her phone and she felt her heart do that stupid thing it did every time his face even lit her screen. Damn her best friend for making her feel things. She grunted and tossed the phone onto the chair, putting her attention back to her computer as it made an unfamiliar sound.

“Oh no.” She exclaimed as she saw the message bolded on the screen.

“What’s wrong now? Another pun? Has he gone full comedian? Do we need to jettison him and move on?” Eloise teased as she moved about the room.

“He’s private messaged me.”

“Oh, now it gets interesting.” Eloise hurried next to her. “Well open it up.”

“I don’t want to.” She shook her head in worry. “What if it’s weird now? What if he’s odd, or what if he asks my name or…”

“Pen, why don’t you simply read it before you make up the entire conversation in your head already.” Before she could stop her, Eloise clicked on the message and opened it up in front of them both.

LonelyTraveler: I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but I thought it might make sense to simply write just to you instead of allowing everyone to read our thoughts. This is already quite unnecessarily unusual already if I might say. I’ve never actually done anything like this before, though now that I’ve said that you must think I do this all the time as this sounds quite like a line a man might say to a woman online. Am I screwing this up by muttering on and on? Shall I start over?

LonelyTraveler: Hi!

“Oh, he’s good.” Eloise muttered. “Quite good.”

“Stop it, I think he’s sweet. He sounds nervous.” Pen stated in defense.

“You don’t think he’s just playing at this?” She shrugged.

“You think the very worst of everyone you meet.” She pushed her aside and took a seat on the couch pulling her computer into her lap. “I quite like him.” She smiled up at her friend. “Now shoo.”

LadyWhistledown: Hi!

LadyWhistledown: I shall say you did mutter on and on a bit though I should expect that from a writer who is not self-editing, however I don’t think you screwed anything up, it was quite sweet actually. I am finding this all to be very overwhelming to be honest as this is not where I expected to be meeting men at this stage in my life. It does kind of feel like I’m giving up, but I’m trying to be honest with myself as well. Oh, I guess that sounds like I’m being offensive to you also. Please do not feel as if I’ve just told you that you’ve given on life.

LadyWhistledown: Oh dear, perhaps we should both start over?

She dropped her face into her hands and groaned loudly. “I’m simply awful at this.”

“I leave you alone for a minute, what have you done now?”

“I basically implied that he had given up on life by meeting me online.”

“Oh dear.”

Pen sighed. “I should quit while I’m ahead.”

“You will do no such thing. Keep at it. You’ve always had a way with words, when you stop letting your mouth get in the way of it.” Eloise tutted her on the nose and walked toward her bedroom. “Don’t give up so easily, Pen.” She reminded as she shut the door behind her.

LonelyTraveler: Well, LW! What a barb! I suppose one could assume it is giving up on life to find companionship online instead of in the bones of another living breathing soul but it’s not always possible in my line of work. I’ve always thought understanding another’s mind is a form of intimacy that cannot match the carnal desires of the pressing of flesh. Be that as it may, I’m interested in why you feel you need to be honest with yourself about why you’ve found yourself here?

Well damn, he was definitely a writer, that much was sure, carnal desires and all that. Pen fanned her face and chewed on her nail as she thought out a reply. She found his response fascinating and revealing in so many ways. He flirted with her, which made her cheeks blush, but then he also opened up to her. Whatever he was doing for a living did not allow him to make connections, he had mentioned before that he traveled, which made her sad as she thought of Colin.

She immediately pushed any thought of Colin out of her mind, she was doing this to try and connect with someone other than Colin!

She appreciated his honesty about wanting to connect with a person emotionally. She found that so sexy. Excitement pooled within her involuntarily. “Get it together girl, it’s words on a screen.” She shook her head and started to type.

LadyWhistledown: Your description hits me so deeply that I feel it in my very soul, yet also makes me wonder if you somehow found a way to read my very mind. Intimacy has always been a stressor to me, my closest connection in life has only been emotional but very dear to me, there is no comparison, though I suppose I would not forgo a physical one if it ever presented itself. Which is the reason for my honesty, as it has never presented itself to me and hence why I suppose I find myself feeling more comfortable here, looking for an emotional connection where I feel safer.

Pen slammed her laptop shut, was he some sort of sorcerer getting her to admit such things to a stranger. What was she thinking? Her phone buzzed beside her, and Colin’s face lit up her screen. Her eyes slammed shut as that creep of guilt hit her again.

“Pen…” His voice was in her ear immediately upon answering. “Are you busy?”

“Never for you.” She teased cheerfully.

“I think I might be able to send you two chapters this weekend, you think you’ll have time to look at them?”

“Two chapters?” She questioned. Colin rarely wrote with such speed, especially as of late.

“Right? I don’t know, I guess my writers block broke, I’m feeling a bit lighter this afternoon, I think I’m feeling a bit inspired.

“That’s great. What’s brought that on?” She inquired.

“I don’t, just…” He paused and her heart dropped, waiting for him to tell her he had some naked muse in his bed, some gorgeous Grecian model he’d been feasting on during his latest visit. “I guess my mind is just feeling a bit clearer, hopeful I guess.” Ok, he didn’t say sexually satisfied, that’s a positive, she thought.

“That’s great news, Col. I’ll make time to look at them.” She smiled.

“Thanks, Pen. You know you’re the best right?” He said in that soft voice that always sounded like it was reserved just for her, and her heart did that Colin skip, as if dancing a Waltz created just for him.

“You have to say that because I’m your best friend.” She teased, picking at a snag on her sweater.

“I only say things I mean.” He said softly. A pause, and then he stirred. “I uh, I gotta run. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“Yeah of course, later Colin.”

And then he was gone, and her heart hurt for some reason, like something was missing. He didn’t say he loved her, and she knew that was ridiculous, it was not like he loved her loved her, but they always said it. It didn’t mean anything, she scolded herself!

~*~

3 Weeks Later

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright tonight?”

“You know I know how to be alone, right?” Pen teased as her friend stepped out of her room. “Woah!” Her black jeans were clinging to all the right curves, and it was the first time in months that she was showing any cleavage. “Should I not expect you home tonight?” She winked.

“Is it too much?” She spun in place and paused. “I mean, I like Phil, but…I should just change right?”

“No, absolutely not.” She threw the pillow that was next to her toward her friend to get her to stop fussing. “You look amazing, he’s not going to be able to get his jaw off the floor.”

“Do I want that?”

“Depends.” She licked her lips seductively. “Do you want his mouth in other places?”

“You are the worst, Pen.” She sucked in a hard breath. “But I absolutely do.”

“Go, have fun. Don’t think.” She smiled honestly.

“I feel bad leaving you alone.” Eloise frowned for a moment.

“Don’t. I have a date tonight.” She lifted her laptop. “Lonely Traveler and I are chatting.” She giggled. “He’s going to be online in five minutes. I’m lighting candles, the whole nine yards.” She giggled.

“Oh, it’s getting serious then?” She questioned.

“He might get lucky.” She bit her finger with an amused grin.

“Pen, you saucy minx.”

“Just get out before I change my mind.” She hid her face in her hands before her friend blew her a kiss and headed out the door.

After setting the mood in her room, she nervously settled into her couch, adjusting her pillows for the twelfth and logged into her computer. She had no idea why she was so nervous. She had been talking to Lonely Traveler every day for the past 3 weeks. They had become so comfortable with each other that it had become second nature to her when she got home to log in and check to see if she had any messages from him. He lifted her mood and made her smile on days when she didn’t feel like she had a reason to.

LonelyTraveler: Hello Beautiful, how was your day?

LadyWhistledown: You silly man, you have no idea if I look like a troll, however my day was plain and dull, just like me.

LonelyTraveler: How dare you insult the woman I believe to be beautiful. I insist you take it back immediately.

Lady Whistledown: Fine sir, it has been retracted. How was your day?

LonelyTraveler: Thank you, dear! Distracting. Tiring. Hard to explain.

Pen took a drink of her wine and felt her cheeks warm simply from reading his words. Dear. Why did that make her body heat up? It was mindlessly silly. She had no idea who this man was. For all she knew he was a catfish. He could be an 80-year-old man getting his kicks online by talking to random women. She truly did not want that to be the case, she had grown so close to him these last few weeks and his words had become so dear to her.

LadyWhistledown: Use your words, my writer. I’m here to listen.

LonelyTraveler: Ah yours, perhaps that is part of my distraction. It is maddening how often my thoughts of you vex me in a day. I am trying to be a gentleman but there is only so many hours in a day that a man can be alone with his thoughts and not be driven to madness.

She almost spit out the gulp of wine she had just inhaled, instead choking it down as she coughed desperately for air. She had never felt wanted like that before and now she had this man telling her that she…vexed him. Drove him to madness?

She stared at the screen unsure what to say.

LonelyTraveler: I hope I did not scare you with my admission. It is simply that I have not stopped thinking about you lately. You stimulate my mind in ways unimagined but at night I think of you in ways I had not intended.

FUCK!

LadyWhistledown: I’m not so easily scared by such an admission, though I must admit I am not used to such a statement when it comes to someone such as myself. I spend most of my time alone which does not really allow for much notice either.

LonelyTraveler: That is wholly a shame, my dear! I find so often that I am alone in my travels that no one should feel as I do, and if you have felt that way for even a moment, I do not wish that for you.

LadyWhistledown: I am used to being alone.

LonelyTraveler: It is nice to not feel alone at least when I’m talking to you.

LadyWhistledown: I feel the same.

LonelyTraveler: Does it make you feel uncomfortable if I told you that I have thought of what it would be like to touch you all day?

Pen felt her entire body light on fire with desire as she read his words over and over again. She had thought about him more than once this past week. Unknown hands touching her, whispers in her ear at night while she ran her hands across her stomach at night. She needed to feel wanted by someone, more than just being needed as a friend.

LadyWhistledown: I do like feeling wanted. I have thought of you the same often.

LonelyTraveler: Is it highly inappropriate to tell you I have taken myself in hand to thoughts of you?

Well shit! This was definitely going to places Pen was expecting they would deal with eventually but still, she was unsure if she was ready to deal with it. She took another very large swig of her wine. Fuck it, she deserved this, didn’t she?

LadyWhistledown: Only if you find it inappropriate for me to admit the same!

LonelyTraveler: Dammit woman, are you trying to drive me to ruin?

LadyWhistledown: Perhaps! Would you like me to stop, I was sort of enjoying myself?

LonelyTraveler: WHAT? Like now? Are you doing that right this moment?

Oh God, what was she doing? Was she trying to drive this man crazy? Pen was not a flirt, but this man had a way at making her feel wanton and brave that she had not felt before. How far was she planning to take this? She reached down between her legs to feel the wetness pooling, barely controlling the moan that left her lips.

LadyWhistledown: Would you join me if I was?

LonelyTraveler: You have no idea how quickly I was able to remove my clothing, you would think I was a mere teenage boy looking at a naked girl for the first time with how excited you have me.

LadyWhistledown: I don’t think I’ve ever excited a man in any way before, don’t tease.

LonelyTraveler: We’ve talked about this before, you excite me in ways I cannot describe simply by being yourself, do not discount yourself.

LadyWhistledown: Are you trying to get me out of the rest of my clothes or lecture me?

LonelyTraveler: Hey, I don’t know how this works online, how does one talk a woman out of her clothes? Because I most definitely have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about what you might look like without any on. Is that odd?

LadyWhistledown: Not odd, no. But I’m not sure how to do this either. I can tell you that I think about it too. What it would be like to be in your arms, is that too forward of me?

LonelyTraveler: Not at all. I have thought about it too. Holding you against me, your skin soft to the touch as I ran my hands across the soft flesh of your breasts. Lights flickering in the background as your silky skin reacted to my touch, my mouth hot against your pert nipple, a wonderous sigh mewing on your luscious lips. Would you want that? Are your fingers grazing your breasts now, my love?

Pen’s breath hitched in her throat. God this man would be the death of her. Was it quite warm in here? She pinched a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, gasping at how much it caused her to cry out. She hardly ever got this worked up so fast. Not even when she was writing her own naughty scenes for her novel. Perhaps she would ask him to assist her with her next book!

LadyWhistledown: Yes! It feels amazing though I wish the hands touching my breasts were yours, I’m sure they would be larger and firmer to be able to hold all that my quite adequate bosoms have to offer a man. Hopefully that does not intimidate you.

LonelyTraveler: Not at all. It does help aid in my purpose here though, but I am trying not to get ahead of myself. You have me quite worked up here.

LadyWhistledown: I would not want you to spoil all the fun so quickly. Though I can imagine the sight to be quite exciting to imagine. Are you lying down or sitting up? I am trying to picture you in my mind.

LonelyTraveler: I’m sitting up, imagining you in my lap. Would you like that?

LadyWhistledown: Oh my, I should imagine that would be very nice, though I’m not sure you could hold me.

LonelyTraveler: I can assure you; we would manage fine. I think you would fit nicely on my lap. I imagine it often, when I’m sat here, slowly stroking myself, wishing to feel you around my cock. To feel you close. Are you touching yourself, there…I can imagine you slick and wet.

Pen was starting to sweat from the excitement from it, her body was almost on fire, her legs were tense, her fingers sliding wet between them, slipping between her folds. She was almost unable to type anymore as she got lost in the moment.

LadyWhistledown: I’m so close. I’m wet and full and I can feel it, like I’m there and I could sink down on you, just you and me, connected.

And then she felt it, the moment it hit her and her eyes pinched closed and his hands were on her, grasping her, his mouth on hers, tongue sliding against hers as her orgasm took her over and her eyes flew open…ocean eyes staring at her.

Pen…

Colin! She closed her eyes as it washed over her. That feeling that always overtook her until she sunk down into the couch, her body drained of energy. Her laptop pinged and she sighed.

LonelyTraveler: Wow. That was, amazing. Thank you for, you know, not having another lonely night. Good night, beautiful!

She stared at his words, trying to smile, trying not to feel the sadness. The guilt. How does one end something like that online. It felt so weird and awkward and seeing her best friend’s face in the middle of her highest moment was not helping at the current moment either.

LadyWhistledown: It was a lovely date! Good night!

She sat on the couch in the dark, sipping another glass of wine contemplating the moment over and over again until the door opened two hours later, and Eloise came dancing through it. She sat up from the couch and laughed at how happy her friend appeared. “You look positively radiant”

“He was…” She spun around again. “I have no words.”

“Wow, he made Eloise Bridgerton speechless, please tell me where I can send him a card, because that is an accomplishment.”

“Oh, shut up.” She plopped down on the couch next to her. “How was your date? Did you get lucky?”

She covered her face. “Oh God, you have no idea.”

“Wait seriously? How does that even work? I need to see this.”

“What? No that’s not happening.” She protested as El picked up her laptop and she lunged for it as her eyes widened.

“Oh, this is scandalous.” She scanned the opened page. “Oh my God, is this what they call cybersex?”

“Stop reading that, it’s personal.”  She ripped the computer from her.

“That was…wow. Was it good for you too? Did you need a smoke after?”

“I mean, it was pretty amazing.” She blushed.

“Good for you! I told you getting out there would be good for you, Pen.” She patted her leg and got up to head to her room. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Ok I’m headed there too.” She smiled and gathered her stuff, looking at her phone and that unanswered text staring back at her. That last feeling of guilt eating away at her as she headed to bed.

My Favorite Person: Hey Pen, I tried calling you tonight, I guess you were busy. I’ll try to call you in the morning.

[tasteofdeathao3]

Izzy and his collection of different seats and recliners stede keeps buying bcs he wants his tot to be comfy (and secure, just bcs Izzy fell off the kitchen chair /once/, now mama insists on all his seats having a harness or belt)

So of course Stede buys just everything for his babies, ranging from every onesie Ed so much as looks at and any toy he thinks Izzy would be able to chew on safely (which is a lot).

At first he starts buying little chairs for Izzy because he insists on either being on the floor or right on top of someone's lap, nothing in between, and Stede quite often likes his legs to not be numb or asleep.

He gets a simple bouncer to have on the floor in front of them. Izzy can strap into it and also entertain himself with the little additional hanging toys.

But then, of course, Izzy is so cute in his little chair that he can't resist buying more!

The issue with the bouncer is that it's so close to the ground - it's great for when baby wants to be as small as possible, but it's not so easy to keep an eye on him when he's so low down and you're running around the house.

Stede decides a taller bouncer is a good investment. Izzy loves it, being properly tall enough to watch Ed fiddle around in the kitchen and eat raw carrot and tomato and watch Stede work on his laptop beside him at the kitchen bench! And being able to have a nap while Ed and Stede are working beside him? Perfect.

But of course neither of these chairs are great high chairs - resting far too far back and not having any way to attach a tray in any stable enough way for Izzy to eat and slap his little hands in all the mess without it going all over the floor.

So of course Stede has to buy more!

And it's great! Izzy can be all comfy and keep eating his food, strapped in nice and safe so he doesn't try and climb out the second he decides he's done (about halfway through every meal).

But Izzy's fussy no matter what age he's at, and he decides when he's feeling more like a toddler that he's way too big for that baby chair! And then the next day decides he's too small to sit at the table altogether! So Stede must venture out to find a more grown up chair for dinner time and one a lot smaller.

Izzy's only little, and he always manages to tire himself out by midday. He's not too fond of naps before he realises he's sleepy, but the one thing that always gets him down is his rocker. It looks like some of his other high chairs, so he's always happy to get strapped in and rock back and forth beside Ed's feet as he works above him. Within five minutes, every time, Izzy is always conked out. Ed will tuck a little blanket over him and keep the little seat rocking until his foot gets too tired.

Ed and Stede (mostly Ed. Only Ed) like to take Izzy camping. Usually on their own property, they find a nice spot and set up tents and whatnot. Ed will start a fire and make dinner while Stede hauls Izzy around to play by the edge of ponds and puddles. Ed is mortified when Stede pulls out the portable crib, but Stede insists their baby needs it. "He can't sleep in a sleeping bag, Ed!"

Izzy, on the other hand, doesn't mind. He's got a cot (with a fly screen!), a cradle, and a changing pad all up off of the ground. Ed complains that it's not proper camping if he's got a proper bed, but Stede always wins arguments when it comes to Izzy being pampered.

In summer it's a lot more uncomfortable to go camping, with all the bugs and the sticky sweaty heat, so they pack Izzy up and go to the beach instead. Izzy will happily sit in the shallows, but will whine and cry when sand gets in his swim pants and won't calm down until Stede helps him wash off at the beach showers. Which is where his little beach chair comes in very handy.

Ed will dive for pāua and kina and Stede will set up their little picnic area on the sand, and Izzy will sit beside Stede in his special big boy chair. The beach can make Izzy feel extra small and also like a very big boy, depending if he's floating on someone's hip in the water or running around on the sand with Ed chasing him.

unfortunately that's all the photos tumblr will let me upload in one post! i have more if anyone wants to see them lol

[thessalian]

Thess vs Fast-Talking

I am a fucking genius.

Okay, work's gone kind of mental again, because Temp's off sick. And, of course, the doctors are dictating all weekend and a lot of the long and annoying ones are in full swing (we've got The Breast Guy with three huge-ass reports, one topping out at fifteen minutes, that we just didn't have time to deal with today). But to understand the entirety of my genius, we have to flash back to yesterday.

See, as I think I mentioned on Friday, I got asked to put together a Standard Operating Procedure document describing SOP for the typing, and put it together in Word with some screenshots demonstrating what I'm talking about in each bullet point. Thing is, my work laptop doesn't have Word because no one's going to pay for the license for something I hardly ever use. So I agreed to put the damn thing together on my home PC. Because OpenOffice. Thing is, while I emailed myself the screenshots, I forgot to email myself the text. So I quickly logged into my work laptop yesterday just to send that over to myself.

Thing is ... Scruffman had sent me another email earlier in the day. This one asking me to do some fiddly bullshit involving finding lab numbers for various reports (which ... got lost in the system ... somehow?) and putting them together with the other details in a list from oldest to newest. Apparently this is for costings or something. Now, that presented a whole bunch of problems. Like, they still haven't got around to getting me a USB monitor so I still use the dinky laptop screen, and it doesn't support the kind of split-screen I'd need to make that kind of task anything but the most inefficient bunch of bullshit. Also, if I wanted to do this, it'd have to be in Excel, and my work laptop doesn't run Excel. It doesn't run anything on the Windows suite, because no one wants to pay a license for something I only use maybe once or twice a year. So I ignored it, since I wasn't technically "at work", and instead just spent fifteen minutes on the SOP document (figuring I could take it as time off in lieu at some stage in the week) and tried to forget about the bullshit that was going to face me this morning.

(Spoiler: I could not forget about the bullshit that was going to face me this morning. I was stressed to the hilt about it.)

Anyway, this morning, I log into my computer, and Scruffman has sent the schedule for the week, as he always does so that I know what the typing load is going to be like. And that's when I found out that Temp was out sick, possibly for the entire week. And I got a secondary email as a reply to our chain about the SOP document saying, "Look, it's going to be really busy with [Temp] off, so Friday's fine for this one".

And I thought: This is an opportunity.

So I replied to that email with the attached SOP document, saying, "Yeah, I actually did that already - I figure I can take the 15 minutes I spent on it as extra time when we're not so busy. On the subject, though, does this extended deadline apply to the costings document list you wanted? Because that one's going to take awhile for me to put together, given my small monitor and having to manually arrange the list from oldest to most recent because of a lack of Excel on this computer."

I never said I couldn't do it. I never said I didn't want to do it. I simply asked for clarification on the timeframe owing to the circumstances, and laid out all of the circumstances. Politely.

His response? "Thanks for the SOP document. Don't worry about the other thing; I'll work out something else".

So I got out of at least one bit of fiddly bullshit that I am not actually equipped to do, all on account of my quick thinking. I am proud of me.

I do have to wonder why it is that Scruffman always asks me to do this stuff. I'm limited by the work-from-home setup they gave me, and I don't even do as many hours as most of the rest of the staff. I mean, if it's that I'm the only one he trusts to do it right and in a timely manner? I want to hear that shit! I would actually be very grateful to know my worth! And honestly, if it's just because I'm the only one that doesn't bitch, moan, whine, or sigh too loud when he gives me this kind of work? I want to hear that too! I want him to admit to my face that he bombards me with stuff I struggle to do with the limitations of my setup because he's so afraid of confrontation that he doesn't want to ask anyone who might moan even a little where he has to hear it.

Anyway, never mind; at least I don't have to do spend at least an hour digging through our electronic patient record by various bits of information and look at all their records to find the ones they're after. Because seriously, he was talking about some of them being done before 2020. That's a lot of patient record to go through. And now I don't have to. Because I am a fucking genius.