#then emails the scan to the client

[deanhisnippleisout]

my boss doesn't understand what a pdf is. this reality it's real and it could happen to you

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, more coming soon

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Part 3 Summary: Y/n joins Mike and Harvey when they go to see a client. The client flirts with Y/n, and she makes the best of it, hopefully landing some clients. Harvey is not happy.

Warnings: Reflecting on past relationship, some yelling

Word Count: 2570

A/N: Thank ya'll so much for the support! The more you comment and like, the faster I write. Love ya'll enjoy!

I’m typing away an email when my intercom goes off. “(Y/n), Harvey needs you in his office.” Donna’s voice rings out and I feel nauseous.

               “Ok, thanks, Donna.” Wait. “Donna?”

               “What’s up?” She asks in a sing-song voice, and I can hear her fingers click-clacking against her keyboard.

               “How long has the intercom been on?” The click-clacking stops. I let out an incredulous laugh, “Have you been listening this whole time?” The intercom beeps and I know it’s been shut off, probably for the first time since I’ve been here.

               I smile and stand from my desk, throwing on the black blazer that was previously sitting on the back of my chair. There’s a pastel pink handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket that matches my blouse.. that also matches Harvey’s tie. What a weird coincidence.

               I walk the short distance from my office to Donna’s desk. “Good morning!” She hums all too happily at me. I give her a raised brow and cross my arms. “It’s nothing personal, I hear all around here. That’s why I’m so good at what I do. I’m Donna.” She flicks her hands in the air with flair.

               “Of course.” I smile at her mischievously. “If you hear all around here, Donna, what have people been saying about me?” I’ve been wondering, but had no way of finding out, until now.

               “Well, obviously I’ve heard the she’s smoking comment more times than I can count.” She laughs. “Louis thinks your one joke away from going to dinner with him.”

               “Shoot, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.” I scold myself and bite my lip.

               “What, you don’t date anyone in the office?” She questions, but it’s off. Her tone, something about it… I lift my eyes to meet hers and she has a devious smile.

               “You know.” I exhale and lean on the desk. “God, does everyone know?!” I whisper yell at her. I do a quick scan of my surroundings, and I don’t see anyone looking. I hesitantly take a quick peek into Harvey’s office.

I pause my frantic behavior when I see him. He’s sitting at his desk on the phone and Mike is on the couch. I can tell he’s charming whoever is on the other side of the phone, because even though they can’t see him, he has his prince-like smile on him. My heart swells for him.

“That’s how I know,” Donna whispers in my ear. I jump, I didn’t even see her get up. She gives me a pointed look. “Yesterday, I saw you look at him when you two were first ‘meeting’” she gives air quotes, “and I could see the way you look at him. You couldn’t keep your eyes off-”

“His puppy dog eyes.” I cut her off, but my eyes are still strained on him. I have to tear my eyes away from him to bashfully look at Donna.

She nods with a smile, “The rest I’ve put together from bits and pieces of everyone’s conversations.” She shrugs cockily. “You know,” She stops herself; I can tell she’s debating whether or not to say what she’s about to say, “This isn’t my first time hearing about you.”

My heart flips. I want to question her further, and I’m about to until I smell expensive cologne and a familiar musk. I turn my head to see Harvey just leaving his office with Mike in tow. He sees me and smiles, trying to charm me. Oh god, he’s trying to play me!

Back in the day, I knew Harvey better than I knew myself. So now I know he’s trying to get back in my good graces, what I don’t know is his end goal.

“G’morning, Donna,” He greets Donna and then his eyes slowly trail to mine. “(Y/n).” He has a close-lipped smirk on his face, one he knew made my knees weak in law school. This may be harder than I thought.

I give him a polite nod but don’t give him any more attention. He may still give me butterflies, but I’m still pissed. I turn my attention to the younger man beside him. “Mike.” I greet him with a smile but there’s some tension exuding from me. I haven’t forgotten what he said to me the other day. “Y’know, our conversation the other day inspired me,” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. “I think my next vacation might be in Paris…France.” I say bluntly and drop the smile I was faking as I side-eyed Harvey.

His eyes dart from my face to Mike accusingly. “Yeah, ha-ha,” Mike laughs nervously. “It’s a beautiful place. The architecture, the landscape-“

“The people?” I question in a demeaning way with a smile on my face. I see Harvey tense and he licks his lips. He’s uncomfortable. Good. Harvey’s hand goes to Mike’s back, and I can tell he’s probably giving him a hidden pinch. Ooh, I know that hurts.

There’s an awkward beat of silence. “Well.” Donna clears her throat, “You all should probably get going. Marshall is expecting you.” She urges.

“Ok, thank you, Donna.” I answer chipperly and turn in the direction of the elevators. In the reflection of one of the associate's monitors, I see Donna mouthing something demanding at Harvey. He mouths back something along the lines of ‘I know, I know!’.

I walk briskly to the elevators and press the button; I don’t even check if the boys are behind me. “So, where are we headed?” I ask, but I keep my head straight, facing the closed elevator doors.

They say nothing until I hear what I’m assuming is Mike giving Harvey a little arm shove. “Downtown-” Harvey starts, then clears his throat. I hear Mike stifle a chuckle. “-we’re meeting Donald Marshall. He’s the company lead for Shilton Suites.”

There’s a ding as the elevator doors open. I step onto the lift and stand close to the buttons. Both boys hesitate to enter. “Are you guys… coming?” They are being so awkward, ugh, boys.

Harvey shoves Mike into the elevator before him, he gets pushed into the wall. Harvey stands shoulder to shoulder with me. “How did you like your coffee?”

I think I’ve imagined his voice; he doesn’t move his torso to face me or even glance my way. I don’t answer right away, trying to process that Harvey is actually talking to me-not just a good morning. “It’s the best around.” He hums in a positive tone, and I see a small smile creep onto his face.

I hope he doesn’t think we’re going to be besties after apology coffee, but I might as well throw him a bone. “Louis wanted to go buy me one from Roaster Roos.”

“Roaster Roos?” Harvey finally turns his body to me and has an offended look on his face. My heart flutters and I wish I could beat it down with a hammer. “God, he has no idea what good coffee is.” He turns back to face the elevator doors, and I crave his gaze on me again.

I feel like I’m running out of time to talk to him away from prying eyes. The dinging of the elevator as we steadily drop feels like a doomsday clock. “He wants to take me to dinner.” I don’t know why I said that.

Harvey stops next to me, and I hear Mike’s strained breathing behind me. I forgot he was here. Once again, it’s quiet until he asks, “How would your boyfriend feel about that?” He’s playing the game- he wants to know if I’m seeing anybody. Touche Mr. Douchebag.

How do I tell him I’m single without being pathetic? “Let’s just say, Louis might have a fighting chance.” I shrug. “Why? Did Louis not ask you to dinner when you first came to the firm?” I tease with a smirk.

His demeanor changes and he has a playful smile on his face, just like the good old days. “Oh, please, Louis wishes he could handle all this.” He motions to himself. He still won’t look at me. I need him to look at me.

I smirk and eye him up and down till my gaze catches on his tie. It’s crooked, I notice. A quick fit of confidence comes over me and I reach for it. At first, both hands are on the knot, but then the other lays flat on his chest while the other straightens the tie out.

It’s just like it was in law school when I would get him ready for mock trials. Something so normal, so domestic, about fixing his tie. Finally, finally, he looks down at me. We’re all but inches apart. I look up into his dark eyes and I feel… odd. His warm breath fans my face and I have to force myself away.

Harvey’s eyes stay on me this time. I can sense Mike looking between the two of us and there’s another layer of awkwardness added to the lift again. “Sorry, I-”

“-Hate a crooked tie.” He finishes my sentence. Of course, he does. I can’t stop myself from looking up, and I know it’s a dumb thing to do before I even do it. Harvey is already looking down at me calmly with half-lidded eyes. I take a brisk look over the rest of his face (pause a little too long on his lips) and back up.

I move just a tad further away from him than I was when we first got in. What is wrong with me? I look towards the elevator buttons and keep my eyes strained there. My chest is rising up and down as I think about what I’ve done.

There’s a ding and the elevator doors open. I wait for him to step out so that I can collect myself, but he doesn’t budge. I side-eye him and motion towards the door, “Go ahead.”

I can feel him looking at me, “Ladies first.” He says and his voice makes my heart flutter. I look at him and he’s looking at me like I’m a sick dog on the side of the street that he feels bad for. I bite my cheek and step out.

The whole way to the meeting spot for the client, I’m a pace or two behind Harvey and Mike. Not just because they’re tall and have long legs, either. At one point, I could tell Harvey had slowed his walking pace so I wouldn’t be so far behind, but I resisted being any closer to him by slowing my pace as well.

I need to think. I’ve detested Harvey since we ‘broke up’, but I’m within his vicinity for TWO DAYS, and I can’t keep it in my pants! I watch his back as he walks and can picture the smooth skin beneath. That gets me thinking about his chest… the scratches I left on both… I shake my head, there is something seriously wrong with me.

We arrive at a parking garage and elevator up to the fifth floor. Luckily, this time I keep my mouth shut and my eyes far from his. The client is waiting for us on a fancy, cherry-red car.

“Harvey!” He shouts joyously. The guy is older with white hair, but he seems active and in good spirits. His gaze slides over to me and I feel like an object. My pace slows and I try to fade into the background despite his hungry eyes. “And who is this?” He looks his lips and I pray that it’s an unconscious habit.

“I’m Mike Ross.” Mike steps in the man’s line of sight. “I’m Harvey’s personal associate.” Thank God for Mike Ross.

But this guy’s determined. He nods boredly at Mike before motioning him to step to the side. Mike moves in stuttered motions and his eyes flicker between me and the client. I give him a face that says ‘What the fuck?’, and he gives me one back that says, ‘I don’t know!’

“You.” I look at the man and freeze. He smiles at me and goes back to leaning on his car, “What are you doing with this guy?” He nods his head to Harvey. I see his jaw clench out of the corner of my eye but otherwise doesn’t move a muscle. “With a face like yours, you could be on anyone’s arm.” The implication is clear.

Just as Harvey opens his mouth, I say, ���He’s my boss.” I nod with a tight smile.

An idea floods into my brain and my previously uncomfortable posture straightens until it becomes arched. “Yep!” I pop my lips and sway my hips as I get closer to the car. “Until I get a client of my own, I’m gonna be stuck with this guy.” I point with my thumb to Harvey. “You wouldn’t know a guy who’d want to be my client… would you?” I bat my lashes down at him.

He's quiet for a second and I can feel him about to say something, but I want to make sure my answer is a yes. I slide onto the shiny hood of the car and partially lay on my hip. “Cool car by the way.” I bat my lashes once more, but now I’m looking up at him and I can tell he’s hooked.

“Love, I’m sure people would get in legal trouble just to work with you.” He flirts and scoots closer to me on the car. Play it cool.

“Y/n.” I hear Harvey’s stern voice behind me and slide off of the car.

The rest of the meeting goes without a hitch. The client, Donald Marshall, would occasionally throw in the flirty comment or look but Harvey would quickly interject. As soon as we got what we needed we headed out of the lot… Not fast enough to prevent Mr. Marshall from kissing my hand on the way out.

“What the hell was that?” Harvey asks as soon as we’re on the sidewalk. He puts his hands on his hips and appears to be fuming. “You’re gonna flirt with my client- in front of me? I should write you up.”

“Call it what you want, I’m going to have clients begging to have me represent them by the end of the week.” I pull out my cell to look up the nearest Ikea. I try to look unbothered, but my heart is racing.

“You can’t just flaunt yourself to get clients-“

I get in his face and shove my finger into his chest. “I can and I will do whatever I want to get me as far away from you as possible!” My words are laced with venom.

I hate him. Just because he still has those puppy dog eyes and sugary words doesn’t mean he didn’t lead me on and then tell me I was stupid to think there was something between us.

I breathe heavily and he does in return. There is fire in his eyes, and I don’t want him to look at me like that- but I know I’m looking at him the exact same way. “As soon as I get my first client I won’t have to look at your sorry face and I can pretend you’re not even there.” I turn on my heels to the street and raise my hand to signal a cab.

I am so over Harvey Specter.

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @malfoys-demigod @notarobotipromise

If you want to be added, just let me know!

[diamonddaze01]

hello tara it’s me

if you’re still taking prompts for your game could i maybe suggest 40 “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” for our seokminnie?

kthnxbaiiiii

mismatched

pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.0k prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” a/n: BENNIE HELLO! i loved writing this and honestly it was just what i needed after work today lol

The day had been relentless. Emails piled up like bricks in a wall, each one heavier than the last. Deadlines loomed, impossible to meet, and the cherry on top was your client—someone who, apparently, had made it their life’s mission to leave you frazzled and questioning your career choices. By the time you got home, your shoulders ached, your head throbbed, and the walls of your apartment felt closer than ever, suffocating in their silence.

You didn’t mean to text Seokmin. At least, not like that. You had typed it out and hit send without overthinking it: "Today sucked. Can I call you later?" Short, vague, but enough to convey the weight pressing down on you.

Seokmin had always been good at sensing when you needed him. Maybe it was the years of friendship, the countless moments you’d spent together, teetering on the edge of something more but never quite diving in. Still, you hadn’t expected him to show up at your door less than twenty minutes later.

When the doorbell rang, you frowned, dragging yourself off the couch. You opened the door, and there he was, panting slightly as if he’d sprinted the whole way. His scarf hung lopsided around his neck, and his coat was barely on, one sleeve dangling at his side. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink from the cold.

“Seokmin?” you asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, skipping right past pleasantries. His wide, dark eyes were locked on yours, scanning your face like he could piece you back together just by looking.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re wearing two different shoes,” you added, pointing to his feet before he could answer.

He glanced down, and the realization hit him like a truck. His left foot wore a white Adidas sneaker with faint blue accents, while his right foot was clad in a scuffed brown leather boot.

“Oh,” he muttered, ears turning crimson. “I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t notice?” Your voice wavered between disbelief and the beginnings of a laugh.

“I came as soon as I got your text!” he protested, lifting his hands in defense. The plastic bag he carried swung dangerously close to hitting him in the face. “You said you had a bad day, and I thought maybe—maybe you needed me, or something.”

His words settled in your chest, warm and grounding. Your lips twitched despite yourself, the first hint of a smile breaking through the exhaustion that had weighed you down all day.

“Seokmin,” you said, stepping aside, “you didn’t have to rush over.”

“I wanted to,” he said softly, ducking his head as he stepped inside. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the floor, a detail so absurd it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“What’s in the bag?” you asked, nodding toward the plastic he still clutched in his hand.

“Soup,” he said, holding it up like an offering. “And snacks.” He hesitated, then added sheepishly, “I panicked. I just grabbed the first things I thought might help.”

You couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Soup is a solid choice.”

He grinned at that, the kind of radiant smile that made your chest flutter no matter how many times you’d seen it. “See? I know what I’m doing.”

The two of you settled on the couch, and Seokmin insisted on heating up the soup despite your protests. You let him, partly because you didn’t have the energy to argue and partly because watching him move around your tiny kitchen—still wearing those mismatched shoes—was strangely comforting.

When he returned, he handed you the bowl with a dramatic flourish. “For the most amazing person I know,” he declared, settling beside you with his own bowl.

“Flattery won’t fix my day,” you said, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, lifting into a smile.

“Maybe not,” he replied, “but it might help a little.”

And it did. As you ate, you told him about your day—the impossible client, the mountain of emails, the way your boss barely acknowledged your effort. Seokmin listened intently, nodding in all the right places and throwing in the occasional comment that made you laugh despite yourself.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said after a pause, his voice quieter now.

“Don’t start,” you said, though your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his tone.

“I mean it.” He set his empty bowl aside and turned to face you fully, his gaze soft but unwavering. “You’re amazing, and I hate that you don’t see it.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Before you could muster a response, he leaned in, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against your forehead.

Your breath hitched, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was waiting for a sign that he hadn’t overstepped.

“Seokmin…”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

A small laugh escaped you, unbidden and warm. “A little.”

“Just a little?” He pouted, leaning closer, and before you could respond, his lips brushed yours—soft, warm, and lingering. The kiss sent a jolt through you, scattering your thoughts and melting away the tension that had clung to you all day.

When he pulled back, his smile was smaller this time, less teasing but no less radiant. “How about now?”

You laughed again, this time from somewhere deep in your chest. “Okay, fine. It worked.”

“Good.” He leaned back against the couch, propping his mismatched shoes up on the coffee table with zero shame.

By the time the evening wound down, your bad day felt like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of Seokmin’s presence. You glanced at him one last time before heading to bed, and for the first time in hours, you felt okay. Maybe even better than okay.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[caramelcleopatraa]

First Appointment (Suit & Tie Revised)

Word Count: 1.9k

x: this fic idea won in the polls :) this series was inspired by kayjayxchar on wattpad ( she's A1 ) and then while writing, I decided to make this into sort of a series. no smut in this part ( I know I know, its such a tragedy! ) but don't underestimate what I got in the works :p not proofread... yet

xx: hello :) new caramel typing here. I wanted to revisit this series and fix it up now since I've written more work since I started this. Now enjoy the New and Revised SUIT & TIE <3

Content: Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, fluff, suggestive themes ( gets a lil steamy ;) ) 18+ Minors Do Not Interact!!

Your fingers type away at your computer, responding to emails from your clients. Your employees are setting up the shop, quickly preparing for another busy day. You were one of the top rated designers in the state of Florida. You’ve been able to travel around the country teaching classes, working your magic for top notch celebrities, and make public appearances. To cut it short, you were living your best life, truly. You got to do what you were passionate about and go against the standard of your families’ traditions and values. And to your surprise, they still supported you. You were proud of yourself that you are successful as you are. There was too much work that you have done to downplay your status, work ethic, and talent.

The chime of your door occupies your attention as a group of people walk in before opening time.

“Wassup biiiiiittch!” One of your closest friends, Trinity, was the first to make herself known. She throws herself on you, and you welcome her sudden embrace. She often visited you at your shop to check on you in her free time, and you always welcomed her company, especially on busy days. Today however, was one of those days where she was coming to you as a client. Because she was your friend and today was one of your busiest days, you told her to come an hour and a half early before you opened. That gave you plenty of time to fit your friends, clean up, and open on time. You scan the group that entered through the door with her. You saw Trinity, her husband Jimmy, his twin Jey and his wife Talia. Your eyes shifted to the larger man that stood behind them, that was accompanied by a shorter, voluptuous woman. It was someone you knew too well. Anyone that lived in Florida had to know his name. Roman Reigns. standing next to him, was what looked like a model. She looked too familiar, and you swore you've seen her somewhere, but you couldn't call it at the moment. The group of six admired your shop, casually walking around and scouting different designs that were displayed on the walls. 

Men’s Side

Women’s Side 

“No matter how many times I come in here, I'm always shocked. Is this new?” Jey says, pointing to the gray suits on your model displays. You knew he would gravitate to those pieces as soon as you came up with the idea a month ago. He always liked black and gray when it came to suits. “Yeah, new in stock. Ya like it?” You sing shakily as Trinity rocked you to death. “Can I take this off ya hands?” “You can after i fit you” You chuckled at his eagerness.

“Anyways..” Talia says, pushing her way through Jimmy and Jey. “This is Roman. I told him that I know a really good designer that can whip up an amazing suit. So he’s here to get fitted as well as the rest of us.” Talia explains to you, looking up in his direction to find him already staring at you. You notice his chocolate brown eyes and brown skin that complimented each other. You try your best to not let that distract you as you reach your hand towards him. You didn’t think he would shake your hand at all. Cold and Dismissive. The two words that would always get thrown around when Roman's name was mentioned.

But he subverted your expectations. You contentedly grinned when his warm hand engulfed yours. “Nice to meet you, beautiful” “Nice to meet you too, handsome.” His voice was smooth and calming. On top of his charming attitude. The perfect voice to coerce someone into doing something illegal. ‘oh my god he’s fine... how am i supposed to stay professional around this man...’

Still, your poker face stayed true as you continued to engage with your client. His partner stayed close to him, latched on at the arm. Almost child like. She pulled on his arm to get his attention, but he simply dismissed her by saying, “Wait over there for me sweets”, and she happily obliged. 

“So how does this whole thing work?” He says, tugging at his black tee. “You’ve never gotten fitted here before and my place runs a little differently than most. We have our scheduled appointments set up so that we can fit our clients, try on potential outfits for you, and send you home with them hours later. There’s a huge inventory that I have attached to this store so as soon as I get done recording your requests, we can get your order started as soon as possible. Any questions?”

Roman smiles smugly and looks at Talia. “She’s good.” Talia retaliates with “I told you so.” You smiled at their comments. To you, it didn’t seem like much. You were simply explaining how your company works so that your client has a basic rundown of how things work. Trinity nudged your shoulder as soon as she noticed your flustered state. You covered your face and did a quick spin, a little habit that formed when you get flustered. The group laughed at your small action. You snapped back into business mode and called your assistant to help you distribute the party of five.

“Aahkilah, can you help me with this party of five?”

 “Coming!” She galloped out to the main area with a work outfit that was damn near cutting dress code, but you didn’t have time to deal with that shit right now. “You can take the couples since they have been fitted before. Be flexible enough to make changes on the spot if our presets don’t fit like they’re supposed to. I’ll take Roman and do the whole process since he’ll be new information in the system.” She was fairly new, and you didn’t trust her just yet with doing an entire fitting appointment on a new client. Plus, you could tell everything that you were saying was going over her head as she basically eye-fucked Roman. Absolutely no work would be done. “But that’s not fairrrruuh! why can’t I take him?” she says, almost mimicking a complaining child. Your eyes close slowly as you sigh and respond, “Because you’re not ready to give a full fitting appointment yet.” 

You wanted to put a nail in this conversation so you could do your job. But, this woman had a damn mission. “You just wanna get him in your private fitting room and fuck him!! You’re not slic-"

“He came here for a fitting! A fitting done by me girl! Please don’t make me have to deal with a child right now.” You were starting to get loud, so you didn’t go back and forth with her like you usually would to whip that bitch into shape. The twins were barely succeeding at hiding their laughter as well as Talia. Roman and Trinity wore smirks on their faces as you reprimanded Aahkilah. She finally buckled down and made sure that the room was ready for the couples. You called in another employee, Gio, to help you with your workload online while you fit your client.

“Oh my god who is that-“ You hit her and stop her sentence and she looks at you like you're crazy. “What!? He’s fine as fuck!” You mentally facepalm as she tries to whisper to you, that ends up more like a whisper scream. “Mhm” You said, as you went behind your desk and pulled up some work for her to do. Sadly, you couldn't stop her when she got to talking. “Oh don’t tell me you don’t think he’s fine! isn’t he right up your alley? Tall? muscular? deep voice? beard? The whole nine?” You took pride in the fact that you took time to know your employees on a personal level and vice versa. You did not think she was going to air out all of the information you told her however. You gave Gio a look that screamed ‘shut the FUCK up’ and she responded to your look by playfully rolling her eyes. You turn the computer towards her. “You’re here to get a bag, not play matchmaker” She groans in response and says “Whatever.” to your dismissive comment. ‘she did not have to embarrass me like that. OMG WHAAT THE FU-‘

“The whole nine huh?” You hear a deep voice mirror your employee’s statement. You turn around to face Roman, the corner of his lips still curled into that mind melting smirk again. He motioned up and down his body, trying to fluster you. And it worked, as your eyes drift over his muscular body. “Little ole me?” ‘LITTLE?’ 

“Little?” Your face contorted into a confused expression, that earns a laugh out of the tall samoan. He starts to walk towards you, decreasing the amount of space between you too. Your momma ain’t raise no bitch so you stood your ground. Well, you tried. You could clearly distinguish the height difference between you and him, and your head raised as your eyes met his. Your hand rested on your hip and your head tilted, slightly sizing him up. “Sir, I will let you know that this is a professional business.” You said, ending off your sentence with an eyebrow raise. Just as you expected, he challenged you back, “Well I'm not invading your personal space, am I?” He said, letting his eyes drift over your body. Anyone in the room would have felt the tension and both of you were desperately waiting on someone to make a move. “Nah, i just don't want a wannabe gangsta playboy fucking up my reputation.” His eyes fluttered closed as he laughed at your statement. You had amused him and peaked his interest. He closed the gap between you two. His breath ghosted over your lips as he said, “So you must know i’m good at fucking something else up, huh?” His eyes glazed over your soft lips, coated with lip gloss. As much as your mind told yourself you had a job to do, his words you had you distracted. It was honestly embarrassing how quick he got you off course. But you wanted to entertain this a little bit. You took a moment to gather yourself before prompting another response. ”Well I wouldn't know cause it’s just rumors.” You shrugged your shoulders looking off to the side. 

“You know how those be.”

“Mhm” He licked his lips. From how close you guys were, you were surprised that his tongue didn't make contact with your bottom lip. “What they been saying about me ma?”

“That apparently you’re good in bed” You raised your pointer and middle fingers bent to imitate quotation marks.

“Mhm, keep going”

“Boy ion know, I really don't be concerned with you.” Your hand returned to your hip. Your attitude started to shine through. 

“Maybe it’s because I haven't taken care of you yet sweetheart” He leans down to whisper the sentence in your ear. You feel his lips lightly touch your ear and your entire body froze. 

You huffed, and said “You say that like you're so sure of yourself.” You challenged his boldness, but nothing could prepare you for what he said to you next.

“Maybe when we hit this fitting room, I can show you how sure I am”

🏷️ tags :) @hunnidmilly @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce

@theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen

@alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae

@fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove

@sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000

@shes2real @pittieprincess22 @wrestlingprincess80

@msbigredmachine @sayyestoheav3nn @trippinsorrows @mzv11

@saintmagx @jstarr86 @pr3ttiesz @trentybenty @romansthrone

@scarlettnoir01 @tshepisho @rose-bliss @yana3sworld

@queeny23 @bebesobrielo @heauxvibez @amandairene88

@potatosackk

[canmom]

very brief torrent security primer

some brief comments on piracy safety for @goblin-thembo who has been asking a lot of questions in the notes of that post...

OK, so when you download a torrent, you are downloading some files. The BitTorrent protocol makes it almost impossible to substitute a different file than the one you request, but you have no way to be absolutely certain that the original file is 'safe' - that depends on the properties of the file, and what you do with it. Some types of file are safer than others.

Here's some jargon you may find useful.

torrent: a file that describes how to download some files through the BitTorrent protocol. we won't go into the technicalities, but when you load a torrent into your torrent client, you will connect to other people who have parts of the files, download the pieces, and reassemble the files you want.

seeding: providing a copy of the files in a torrent to other people.

ISP: Internet Service Provider, the company that connects you to the internet.

IP address: your computer's identity on a network, notably the public internet. When you connect to a website, they know your IP address. Your IP address is assigned by your ISP.

From an IP address, you can determine someone's broad geographical location (which country they're connected in) and which ISP they are using. You can contact the ISP, who will be able to associate it with a specific user.

swarm: the collection of users downloading or seeding a particular torrent.

VPN: Virtual Private Network, a relay service which hides your IP address from the public internet. People who connect to you will see the VPN's IP instead of your real IP. Your ISP will be able to know that you connected to a VPN, but not what you send through it. So they wouldn't be able to tell if you are using BitTorrent. VPNs usually cost a fairly small amount of money as a subscription service.

Threat model

In security we talk about a 'threat model', which is what you think you need to protect yourself from. There are two major threats when downloading files using BitTorrent.

copyright claims: your computer's IP is broadcast when you use BitTorrent. Copyright holders will often put 'sniffers' on the network which will monitor the IPs in the swarm of popular torrents. They will then send a takedown letter to your internet service provider (ISP), who will usually send you an email to stop sharing copyrighted media on their network, and then cut off your internet on multiple offences. This can easily be circumvented using a VPN. I strongly recommend using a VPN if you download any copyrighted content through BitTorrent.

attacks through the file you download: someone might upload a virus as a torrent, presenting it as a file you might be looking for (e.g. cracked software). So let's go over different types of file you might download and how they could be used to attack you.

Executable files, such as pirated software, are not safe. If you download a program and run it, you are potentially giving the author full control over your computer. So you should make damn sure the uploader is trustworthy. If you're downloading open source software from the maintainer's github release page, you're probably good. If you're downloading cracked art programs or games... good luck lol.

On a public torrent tracker, to which anyone can upload, there is no guarantee that any file is what anyone says. You have to make your own determination of which uploaders are trustworthy. I can't give you great advice on this, since I generally do not download cracked executables. For games, FitGirl Repacks is generally a pretty good source.

If you are on Windows, the default Windows Defender software should be used to scan any file you download. (Paid antivirus software is of somewhat dubious utility, often pushing ads and using CPU resources in its own right.) Fewer attackers will target desktop Linux or OSX, which doesn't mean you're guaranteed safe, but Windows is the biggest target as the most widely used operating system.

Videos, music and images are generally safe. I say 'generally' because it's possible, in theory, to create a video that exploits a vulnerability in your video player (e.g. mpv or VLC) and uses it to execute code. So far as I know this is largely theoretical, and known vulns have been patched, but make sure to keep your player up to date to mitigate against known vulnerabilities.

Any compressed archives (zip, rar, 7zip) can be used to create something called a 'zip bomb', which is a file which goes into an infinite loop when you try to decompress it, swallowing up more and more memory and hard drive space. I've never seen this actually be done, but it's possible. More subtle attacks would attempt to attack the program you use to decompress the file. Keep your software up to date to mitigate against known vulnerabilities.

Besides taking care about what you download, on Windows you should either not run your main account as an admin account, or make sure to set User Account Control to require a credentials check for admin operations, and also keep your operating system and software up to date. Make sure file extensions are visible so you don't get fooled by a file disguised as a different file type. And y'know, if the torrent tracker has comments, check to see if a lot of people are saying it's a virus.

What could happen if your computer gets infected? Well, they might use your computer to mine crypto at the cost of your CPU performance, they might encrypt and ransom your files, and they might steal your credentials for online services (including banking and the like). There are various measures you can take against this, such as making sure to encrypt sensitive data such as passwords, but the best defense is to not infect your computer in the first place.

The most likely time for people to upload viruses is when something is in high demand and there isn't a single authoritative high-quality source out yet.

Ultimately you get to decide what you consider an acceptable level of risk. There is no such thing as perfect safety. I would recommend using your own initiative to learn about computer security and not badger random tumblr users to explain it to you, but hopefully the above guidelines should help you avoid doing anything too dangerous.

[viesantewrites]

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝

(𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Robert Fischer (Inception) x Reader

note: Hey guys, I‘ve rewritten this story a bit and decided to post it on my sideblog. I've changed some of the themes and also that the main character is no longer an OC named Victoria, but the reader. I think this story is kinda difficult to write, which is why I've rewritten it several times. I love plots like Shutter Island and tried to do something similar here & it‘s also a story about parasocial relationships and unrequited love.

summary: The reader is hopelessly in love with her boss Robert Fischer, but he doesn't seem to be interested in her. By an unexpected coincidence, they meet in the city and his sudden intense affection for her confuses her. The reader begins to suspect that something is wrong, and when she finally uncovers the truth about her encounters with Fischer the heartbreaking reality is revealed to her.

you don‘t have to watch the movie to understand the story.

age gap, but the characters are both adults. Robert is 37-39, is divorced and has a child. The reader is about 28/29.

word count: 5000+

warnings: topics like mental illness, depression, this is a quite dark and heavy story

It was just half past seven when she heard the familiar footsteps in the corridor approaching the office next door. A key was inserted into the lock and a moment later the door opened.

Glancing around to make sure her workspace wasn't too messy, she threw an old paper cup into the bin before her boss poked his head through the door.

"Good morning, Miss YLN, so busy already?" he asked with a tired smile. "It doesn't reflect well on me as a boss to have my assistant here before me. I'm sorry, Monday mornings are always a bit stressful for me."

"No problem, Mr Fischer. I've already sorted the mail for you, it's on your desk," she said kindly, watching him as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, a little damp from the rain.

"Thank you, I can count on you."

He was a very elegant, handsome man, about ten years her senior, with dark hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones and an elegant black suit. She must have stared at him a little too long, because he turned to her with a questioning smile.

Immediately her cheeks flushed and she turned back to her computer screen, but by then Mr Fischer had already approached her and put some documents on her desk. "Please scan them all and email them to Mr Parker, he's been waiting for them for days," he said to her. "It would be best if we sat down together later and quickly discuss my tasks for today, there is a lot to do. If I'm not mistaken, I have a client meeting at three today."

"At two, sir," she corrected him, handing him a planner with today's date thickly underlined.

He started to grin. "You see, this is exactly why I have an assistant."

Fischer disappeared into his office.

She sighed slightly and went to work scanning the documents. She had been working for Fischer Morrow, one of the world's largest energy companies, for barely a month. Their headquarters had moved from Sydney to London after the death of their CEO, Maurice Fischer. Her current boss, Robert Fischer, was a direct descendant.

She liked Fischer Jr a lot. He was friendly, supportive and didn't get angry when things didn't go to plan. But in some ways he always seemed so unapproachable. For example, he never talked about his private life and YN had no idea who he was outside of work. Then again, he was her boss and his private life was none of her business. But deep down she admitted that she was very interested in him.

The days flew by and she finally felt as if she had been employed by Fischer Morrow for an eternity. But who Robert Fischer really was remained a mystery.

One evening, as she was about to leave, she quietly opened the door to Fischer's office. He was sitting in front of his computer, his chin resting on his hands. "Have a nice evening, Mr Fischer." He jumped slightly, obviously not having heard her come in, but then he smiled. "Thank you, you too."

YN looked at her watch. "It's almost half past seven, don't you want to finish your work soon? Don't you have a wife waiting for you?"

Mr Fischer shrugged. "I've been divorced for a few years now, and I only see my daughter at weekends. The only thing waiting for me is an empty, dark apartment."

YN held her breath. It was the first time he had told her anything about his private life. But in the same second, he seemed to regret his words.

"No one waits for me either," she said. "Except for my cat."

Fischer raised an eyebrow with a smile. "At least that's something."

Finally she said goodbye and left the office. But all the way home, she kept thinking about her conversation with Fischer.

Was he perhaps as lonely as she was?

Tired, YN lay in bed. She didn't even have the strength to change her clothes and remove her make up. Although she wanted nothing more than to get out of that itchy, uncomfortable dress and tights. A quiet meow sounded beside her and she felt something soft brush against her arm. Smiling, she pulled the cat closer and buried her face in its white fur.

Since leaving her small home village for London, she had no one to talk to. Her old friends had all left her and moved on with their own lives. Robert Fischer was the only one she spoke to regularly, though it was far from a friendship. With the cat in her arms, she turned to the other side. But what if she had feelings for him?

Maybe she should tell him. But wasn't that too much? He was still her boss, after all, and there were probably plenty of women who were interested in him.

She quickly pushed the thought aside and closed her eyes.

Robert Fischer turned curiously when he heard the quick clicking of heels in the corridor. Panting, his assistant opened the door and dropped her bag on the desk.

"Miss YLN, are you okay?"

Her hair was messy, her coat hung loosely over her shoulders as if she hadn't had time to put it on properly, and her lipstick was a little smudged.

"I… overslept," she said, panting. "I'm sorry."

Fischer looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "It's okay. But it shouldn't happen again."

"Of course not, sir," she replied immediately.

He quickly disappeared into his office and returned with a thick stack of papers and a folder.

"Would you be so kind as to sort these documents alphabetically for me? They've been on my desk for days and I haven't had a chance to get to them. I know it's not an exciting task."

She nodded and took the heavy pile from his hand. Fischer thanked her and hurried back to his office.

Sighing, she set to work. But with each page, she found her concentration fading and her mind wandering. Her head ached, her eyes burned and she felt incredibly tired. But she tried not to show it, kept working as hard as she could and finally put the sorted file back on Mr Fischer's desk.

Exhausted, she walked back to her office, sat down in her chair and buried her face in her hands. She was shivering and her ears were ringing. Was it because she had forgotten to take her medicine today?

"Miss YLN?" she heard her boss' voice.

She turned immediately and forced a smile. "Yes, Mr Fischer?"

"I have an job interview scheduled for ten, would you be so kind as to prepare the conference room for it?"

"Of course, sir."

He stopped halfway and looked at YN questioningly. "Are you okay? You look so pale." She nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Everything's fine, Mr Fischer." Fischer looked at her, raised his eyebrows, then handed her the key to the meeting room and disappeared back into his office.

A strange feeling of dizziness spread through her head as she walked down the long corridor leading to the conference rooms.

What was wrong with her today?

When it started to get dark outside, YN finally turned off her computer and reached for her bag. The strange dizziness had improved during the day, leading her to conclude that she simply needed a break from work. Fortunately, it was Friday. She knocked gently on Fischer's door, as she always did before leaving, to wish him a pleasant evening. He was sitting there as usual, his chin resting on his hand, deep in thought. He glanced up briefly and nodded politely, noticing her in the doorway. He looked stunningly handsome today, even after this long and exhausting day.

"I didn't ask you how the job interviews went this morning," she asked curiously. Fischer shook his head. "Terribly," he said. "None of these people I'd want in my company." His voice was cold and dismissive, and for a moment she thought he was referring to her, even though she knew he meant someone else. She smiled awkwardly and shrugged slightly. "Well, maybe the next one will be better."

Fischer remained silent.

"Have a good weekend, Mr Fischer."

"You too, Miss YLN." He gave her a friendly smile.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend? I know a good restaurant, would you like to join me?" The moment she realised what she had just said, she bit her lip, her face turning red. Had she completely lost her mind? She desperately hoped he hadn't heard what she'd asked, but it was too late. She could see Fischer raise his eyebrows in confusion and stare at her.

"No, Miss YLN. I'm not interested. I keep my work and personal life strictly separate." She immediately looked down, embarrassed. Thoughts raced through her mind like a rollercoaster and her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. "I'm sorry, Mr Fischer, I shouldn't have asked you that." She finally grabbed her bag and left the office without another word, feeling Fischer's gaze on her back.

It was drizzling lightly as she walked through the busy streets of London. The cold air did her good and she felt her head clear a little.

Why had she done this? It had been clear from the start that a man like him would reject her. But the words had come out of her mouth as if she had completely lost control. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and quickly wiped it away. She didn't want to have a mental breakdown in public, even though it felt like Fischer had torn her heart into a thousand pieces. Suddenly the strange dizziness returned and her vision blurred slightly. The sounds of London became muffled, as if she were incredibly far away.

"Miss YLN, wait!" she suddenly heard a voice behind her that seemed to be getting closer.

She turned around. The dizziness had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Startled, her eyes widened as she saw the person in front of her - it was Mr Fischer. What was he doing here? Had he followed her? She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a hoarse stutter.

"I wanted to apologize, Miss YLN. It wasn't very nice of me to brush you off like that," he said with a gentle laugh. His voice sounded strangely different, softer than usual. Wordless and spellbound, she stared into the pair of light blue eyes before her, apologetic and gentle in their expression. She knew Mr Fischer had blue eyes, but she'd never noticed how incredibly bright they looked.

"It's okay, don't worry," she managed to say, her knees shaking with excitement.

"No, no, Miss YLN. I'll think about the dinner offer, okay? Just because we work together doesn't mean we can't have dinner together, does it?" Fischer suggested, and she nodded slowly, then smiled.

Why this sudden change of heart?

"Well, see you soon." He waved goodbye and YN, still completely confused, raised her hand in response. But before she could form another thought, he had disappeared into the crowd.

Carefully, YN pressed the shutter on her old camera, focusing the lens on the small lake in front of her. Satisfied, she lowered it. She was confident that this snapshot would turn out well. This park was a place she often visited to clear her head and pursue her passion, photography, as it offered many beautiful subjects. Especially now, in autumn, when the trees were covered with colourful leaves and the silence was slowly descending, with only the occasional pedestrian passing by.

Her dizziness had eased a little, but not completely. Fortunately, it was Saturday and she had the whole day to herself. YN sat down on a bench under a tree that looked to be at least a hundred years old.

She sat there for a while, lost in thought. Eventually she got up and made her way to the West End. The streets of London were noisy and busy as she walked, looking for a warm place in a café and something to eat. Crowds of people rushed past her, music played from somewhere and loud voices filled the air. Exhausted, she rubbed her temples. Maybe she should have stayed home and rested.

Suddenly she held her breath as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Dark hair, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. Fischer. But before she could think, he had already noticed her and started to smile at her.

"Miss YLN, how nice to see you! What a coincidence!"

It was the first time she had seen him in his casual clothes rather than one of his business suits. But this was no less elegant and stylish. He was wearing a well-fitting black coat, a grey knitted jumper underneath and black trousers. It was so strange to see him outside his office at Fischer Morrow Company. Suddenly he didn't seem so unapproachable and distant anymore.

"What are you doing here?" she asked curiously.

He paused for a moment. He seemed to be considering whether or not to tell her.

"I took my little girl to her friend's house for a sleepover. She's been asking me for weeks because her mum won't let her."

"So you're a cool dad," YN replied.

Fischer rolled his eyes. "I'm the one who lets her get away with everything. We had to turn back twice because she realised she had forgotten her favourite stuffed animal and her toothbrush."

She laughed softly. In a strange way, she enjoyed him talking so openly about his life.

"Oh wow, that looks amazing. It's quite old, isn't it?" Mr Fischer pointed to the camera around her neck. "From the 1960s. But it takes incredibly good pictures for that time," she explained. Fischer seemed genuinely impressed. "Do you have more like it?"

"I have quite a few. From the 50s to the 80s, actually, and of course some modern digital cameras. Photography has been my passion since I was a child," she explained. Fischer looked at her with an interested smile. "So there's actually film in there that needs to be developed?" she nodded in confirmation. "Some photo shops still offer that service, yes."

Mr Fischer seemed genuinely interested in her hobby, asking her questions about it as they walked side by side through the streets of London. She felt incredibly comfortable in his presence and hoped he wouldn't leave so soon. Finally he pointed to the camera again. "Would you take a picture of me, please? I'd like a 60's style photo of myself." YN's heart began to beat faster in her chest. What had he just said?

"Of course, Mr Fischer," she replied nervously. "Robert. My name is Robert," he replied. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, completely surprised. No one at Fischer Morrow Ltd called him by his first name, and outside the company she had only heard his uncle, Peter Browning, call him Robert.

"Let's find a nice spot for the photo," he said, letting his gaze wander until it settled on a beautiful fountain.

Carefully, she picked up the camera, took a few steps back and held it directly in front of Robert's face. "Smile, please," she instructed him, finally pressing the shutter.

A pedestrian who had just passed them looked at YN with a confused expression and shook his head. Frowning, she looked after him before carefully tucking the camera into her handbag.

Are you hungry?" asked Robert. "We could go to a restaurant."

Surprised, she looked at him. "I don't know…" she said hesitantly, biting her lower lip. In fact, she had never expected to be asked such a question.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows and she could see the disappointment in his eyes. Finally, she worked up the courage to say what was on her mind.

"It's just… To be honest, you told me yesterday that you were someone who kept your work and personal life strictly separate. Maybe it would be better if we did. After all, I'm your employee."

As much as she wanted to spend time with him, she was afraid of developing even more feelings for him. Robert nodded slowly and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

"I really like you. I just never wanted to show it, that's why I was so reserved with you and told you I wasn't interested in you".

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh as a ton of thoughts went through her head. Robert finally nodded at her with a slightly disappointed look on his face and turned on his heel.

"Wait!" she called after him.

He stopped immediately and looked at her hopefully.

"Let's give it a try, shall we?"

"YN… is that a French name?"

Robert's voice sounded slightly tipsy as he grinned curiously at her, twirling his wine glass casually in his hands.

He had taken her to a rather fancy and expensive place, the walls were dark wood panelling, the chairs were covered in red velvet and soft jazz music was playing on one of the radios. Robert looked hauntingly beautiful that night. His skin seemed incredibly soft and flawless, his jawline even more prominent, and his blue eyes shone almost ghostly in the dim light, almost like he wasn’t real…

She smiled, nodded and took a sip from her glass. "My father is French. I grew up in France but moved to England when I was 15."

He nodded with interest, rubbing his chin with his finger.

"And you? I heard you're Australian," she asked curiously.

Robert laughed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Well, my accent makes it obvious."

YN blushed and looked down at her plate. What a stupid question.

But Robert didn't seem to mind too much, because he started talking about his life in Sydney, how he had finally moved to London after his father's death, and she listened with interest.

But suddenly he stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. "But I'm probably just boring you."

YN immediately shook her head. "No, you're not," she told him. "I find it really interesting to find out all this about you."

At that moment a waitress came to their table with a smile and asked YN in a friendly tone if she had enjoyed her meal. But the waitress paid no attention to Robert, YN noticed with surprise. Perhaps she was just being extra polite to the lady.

Robert pulled out a black leather wallet and rummaged through it. Quickly, YN pulled a few notes out of her habdbag and handed them to the waitress. "Keep the change," she said.

The waitress looked at her with wide eyes, "Thank you, ma'am," she said gratefully, "have a nice evening.

Then she turned and left the table.

"You didn't have to do that," Robert said. "As a gentleman, it's actually my job to pay."

She shook her head in amusement. "I bet that's never happened to you before, has it?"

Robert shook his head and took the last drink from his glass. There was a moment of silence between them.

"Okay. So what's the plan for the rest of the evening?"

She looked at him in surprise. As soon as he said the words, she felt a tingle in her stomach.

The church clock struck twelve as she crossed the street hand in hand with Robert. It was freezing, and she had pulled her scarf so far up her face that only her eyes and nose were visible. Her date looked at her with amusement. "Are you going to rob a bank?" he asked, laughing out loud.

"Shh!" she snapped at him, putting her fingers to his lips. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

Although it was quite dark and she could only make out Robert, she knew that his typical mischievous grin was back on his face. She pulled him firmly behind her until they reached the small white building.

"Is this where you live?" Robert asked.

She put her finger to his lips for a second time until Robert stopped talking and looked silently into her eyes. Her heart was beating in her chest as she finally stood on her toes, put her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his. Robert returned the kiss without hesitation and gently pulled her into his arms. YN could hardly believe what was happening. It was everything she had secretly wanted for months. They remained like this for a moment before she finally let go of him and reached for her key.

She felt for Robert's upper arm and finally pulled him into her apartment, closing the door behind him. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and began to kiss him again. His lips were a little cold and tasted of wine. Together they stumbled backwards into her bedroom, taking off his coat, which she tossed carelessly to the floor.

Robert's fingers stroked carefully along her hip and fumbled a little with her belt while she was busy putting little kisses on his neck. With slightly trembling hands she pulled his jumper over his head and Robert took her hand.

"Are you nervous?" he wanted to know. She remained silent.

"Don't be," he whispered softly into her ear, taking her in his arms again and pulling her onto the bed. Breathing softly, she clung to his chest, leaned back and finally closed her eyes as she felt his warm skin against hers.

The sun shone through the half-open curtains, creating a narrow, bright streak across the floor. Blinking, she opened her eyes and stretched. But immediately a sharp pain shot through her head again and she held her forehead tiredly. Confused, she sat up and tried to remember what had happened yesterday.

But when she heard soft breathing next to her, she turned quickly and all the events of last night came back to her. Smiling, she looked over at Robert, snuggled up next to her in her beige blanket, sleeping peacefully. Tenderly stroking his messy hair, she lay down beside him again and then began to caress his bare chest. Perhaps what they had done was wrong. After all, they were two people who should never have fallen in love. But it had happened, and it felt so right. They remained in this position for some time, Robert asleep and YN lost in thought.

Her eyes swept through the bedroom until they settled on a small white box on her dresser. Quickly sitting up, she reached for it and put a small pill into her mouth. Eventually, Robert began to move a little beside her, opening his eyes tiredly. Smiling broadly, she gave him a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"Good morning," Robert murmured in a raspy morning voice.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes, wonderfully." He yawned loudly and took her into his arms as she laid her head lovingly on his shoulder.

"Wait, what time is it?" he suddenly wanted to know.

"Quarter past ten, why do you ask?" she replied.

"Shit," Robert muttered as he let go of the hug, jumped out of the bed and started to pick up his clothes, which were strewn all over the floor.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?" she asked, looking at him in confusion.

"I should've picked up my daughter by now," he replied, hurrying to get dressed.

Sighing, she pulled the blanket around her a little tighter. "Can't it wait? Can't you stay for breakfast?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm sure she's already waiting for me.“ Robert dodged her questions, grabbing his coat on the floor and sighing when he saw her disappointed look.

He walked slowly towards her, stroking her chin with his finger, and finally whispered: "We can catch up later." Then he put a soft kiss on her lips before turning around and disappearing through the door. She sank back into the pillows and pulled the blanket over her head.

The rest of Sunday flew by. Mostly because her mind was on Robert and she could hardly wait to see him again tomorrow at work. She had probably never looked forward to a Monday in her life as much as she did that day.

The next morning, YN carefully applied her lipstick and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She noticed that the collar of her white blouse was a little crooked and quickly adjusted it. She wanted to look her best for Robert today, so he wouldn't change his mind and lose interest in her.

Humming softly, she put on her black high heels and grabbed her handbag. She quickly put another pill into her mouth and put the box in her bag. Her headache was completely gone and her head finally felt clear and light again. In a good mood, she breathed in the fresh morning air and made her way to work.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked down the familiar corridor of Fischer Morrow. The lights were on in Robert's office. She ran a final hand through her hair, smoothed her blouse and opened the door to her own office.

The air was stuffy and hot. Coughing, she ran to the window and opened it.

"Good morning, Miss YLN, I hope you had a nice weekend," a familiar voice sounded from behind her.

Startled, she turned to see Robert's face as he stuck his head through the door, as he always did.

Why didn't he call her by her first name? Confused, she stared at him, trying to form a clear sentence. "But… But… we spent it together…" her voice finally broke. Her head suddenly hurt again.

He seemed so different again. Not the Robert she had spent the weekend with, not the one who had apologised for being too rude to her, not the one who had made her laugh and told her about his life. He seemed more like the one she had worked with for months, the one who never revealed anything about himself.

"Miss YLN? I haven't seen you since Friday, when you left my office after… asking me that question."

Her heart almost stopped. Suddenly her knees gave way and she sank to the floor.

"Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?" Concerned, he bent down to her. "Do you want to go home and rest?"

She nodded slightly and wiped a tear from her eye, which had turned her fingers black from the carefully applied mascara. Then she got up and left the office.

At home, she lay motionless on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't think straight and her throat felt incredibly dry. The door to her room, which was only ajar, opened gently and something small and white slipped through. Sniffling, she stretched out her arms and lifted her cat onto the bed.

Everything that had happened that weekend had been fake. She had made it all up. And all of this happened because she had forgotten to take the pills against her delusions. Robert hadn't really followed her on Friday evening; it was all a figment of her imagination. While his real self was still sitting in the office, probably not thinking about her at all. Everything suddenly made sense: why Robert looked a bit different, why his voice sounded different, the waitress who ignored him on Saturday because she couldn’t actually see him, the pedestrian who gave her a confused look because she was talking to herself while taking the photo.

The photo.

She immediately got up, put on her shoes and ran to the photo shop where she had left the film to be developed. Her heart raced as the staff handed her the envelope with the photos. Trembling, she finally grabbed the Saturday night photo, without looking at it herself, and held it up to the staff's face. "What do you see?" she asked.

The young man looked at her in confusion, but remained polite. "The fountain at Piccadilly Circus. Great picture, it turned out really nice."

"Anything else?" she asked.

"No, ma'am," he replied, and it felt like a slap in her face. Fischer had never been there with her. Only her lonely and sad mind had led her to believe that he was interested in her and loved her. Tears welled in her eyes and she left the shop without another word. When she got home, she immediately took the white box of pills from her handbag, rushed into the kitchen, opened it and poured the pills into the bin.

Crying and with burning eyes, she finally lay down on her bed and buried her head in the pillow as her cat purred softly beside her. She must have stayed like that for hours, as the sun began to set again outside her window. When she finally lifted her head and wiped the tears from her face, she saw a dark haired man sitting beside her bed, looking at her lovingly with his pale blue eyes. A smile suddenly appeared on her face and she began to laugh, pulling the man into a tight hug.

some explanations because i know that story is kinda mind-fucking:

• Is Robert Fischer all a creation of the readers mind?

- No he actually exists, he’s her boss and she‘s in love with hin but she imagines dating him.

• When is he real, when is he fake?

- - The Robert Fischer in the office is real, he turns her down when she asks him out, leaving YN heartbroken. The moment she leaves the office, she starts to imagine what it would be like if he apologised to her, so the man who follows her is just her imagination. The real Robert Fischer is still in his office at Fischer-Morrow.

When she visits the city on Saturday and meets "Robert" and goes on a date with him, it's also just her imagination. That's why other people react to her with confusion, because she's basically talking to herself all the time. On Sunday morning, when she wakes up next to him, he's still fake. When she takes her pills, he quickly "disappears" (he says he has to pick up his daughter...) because they stop her delusions.

On Monday morning, when she gets back to her office, the real Robert Fischer is there again, who hadn't seen her since he had rejected her on Friday evening.

When she gets home, she throws away her pills and her delusions start again. The man who sat next to her on the bed and comforted her is again the imaginary version of Robert.

[http-tokki]

Youre..its...Dynamight!

~ bakugou katsuki x reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, anxiety, established realtionships, home business girl boss, cute lil baby dynamight fan meeting his hero. ~ wc: 870

Katsuki was the one who mentioned working from home. He was the one who suggested turning the spare room into your studio and working out of the comfort of your own home.

"It's not like were using it for anything, and I don't plan on filling it with little ones anytime soon." He poked your belly as to emphasise the point.

“Plus, it’ll be good for your anxiety” and despite his flat tone and lack of concern for the space you would be taking up, your heart squeezed at how caring he was. he knew it was tough on you going into work some days, when the anxiety would grip you by the throat and slam you back into bed. The dark shadow of pandemic induced agoraphobia taking over your desire to be in the world of the living, and you felt so guilty taking days off, having a lower income than your boyfriend even though he reminded you every single time you paid of something that he was kind of loaded and didn’t need to struggle through (you could never let him do that, at least not while you weren’t married and ready to be a home maker) so you turned that spare room into your own workspace and after weeks of renovating and redecorating, you were finally open the public, well select few of the public.

You had been open for a while now, your clientele steadily increasing and so did your bank account, but it was the initial surprise of having your clients face drop upon seeing pro hero Dynamight lounging on the couch in his sweats, playing video games. You enjoyed the surprise and shock completely taking over them as they stammered trying to piece the puzzle together.

“You’re- is that - huh?” were the usual string of words that bringing new clients over for a consult is always interesting.

You don’t think Katsuki fully understand the impact he has on people, especially when he’s just lounging around watching tv or emailing companies, all very mundane not pro hero things. (he knows but he doesn’t care. it’s his house why should he change his behaviour for people he’ll see for two seconds) but it was your latest consultation that had you loving your newest work space.

It was a simple consultation, only half an hour to discuss price and appointment times but your client had to bring along her little one due to school being off for holidays. She had given you enough warning, asking if it was okay if her six year old tagged along because her babysitter had flaked and this was the only time she had free. It wasn't an issue for you, offering the little one a hot chocolate and cookies as you and their mother talked.

You hear Katsuki come home halfway through the appointment. He would usually walk into your voice and greet you with a kiss before heading to the shower or his office but you had put up the little sign to signify that you had a client and would be busy for a bit.

The jingle of keys and heavy footfalls of his boot clad feet alert the little one to another visitor. Your eyes flick over to them, hot chocolate clutched tightly in their tiny hands as their head turns to the door and only then do you notice the Dynamight t-shirt. Eyes scanning over the rest of their outfit you clock the socks and shoes and their little backpack in the corner all adorned with your fiancé's face.

"Do they like Dynamight?" you ask the mother quietly, trying not to alert them to the mention of their favourite hero.

"Like?" the mother scoffs. "That's all they talk about. It's Dynamight this, Dynamight that. I've just about had enough of that name." her laugh is soft as she looks over at her child, fondness and slight annoyance lingering in her eyes.

You nod in understanding, biting down on your lip to supress a smile. "You might just hate me for this but-" you turn your head towards the door.

"Baby, can you come in please." you call to Katsuki.

"Angel, I'm too tired so if you want it you're gonna have to- ohh," Katsuki is whining as he walks down the hall but stop his sentence as he spots the kid sitting at the end of your desk.

You watch as little one freezes. Their eyes growing wide and jaw dropping as they see their hero steps into the doorway. You catch Bakugou's gaze, smiling at him before nodding towards the shocked child sitting a few feet from you.

"It's… it's…." their voice is small as they follow Katsuki around the room. "You're Dynamight." they whisper.

"Hi, bud." 'Suki waves and drops into a squat to talk to the little one.

"You're… mum, it's him." they whisper, tiny hands curling in their shirt.

The mother turns to you, eyes wide as she reaches for her phone. "How did you- is he your- how?"

"fiancé ." You laugh softly. "I'm sorry, i should have given you a warning."

She shakes her head, attention now on her fawning child. "You just made me mother of the year."

a/n: cute bakugou content that i never finished from July last year

[fantasylandbitch]

Summary: For the next four days you started preparing for the Sunday meeting you had coming up so you prepared by making a PowerPoint, Designs, and Color palettes based on some of the information your client had sent you through your email but what you didn't account for on Sunday was an urgent phone call from Sam.

Warnings: Cussing, Blood, Longing, Long Chapter,

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 2.5  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5  Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

When Sunday arrived, you got up early and did your morning routine, you went to the bathroom before shortly getting dressed for your meeting at a little restaurant called Rancho Tequileria that's located on the Upper West Side of NYC. Upon getting out of your bedroom you pack away your laptop, a flash drive, and earbuds in your suitcase just in case there was a change in your plans and while doing so, you requested for an Uber to come to pick you up. When you were willing, you headed for the front door, locking it in the process before leaving the apartment building while you waited for your Uber. You take the opportunity to change your phone setting from silent to vibrate before looking at your notifications list.

"I guess this is what happens when you go MIA Y/n," you say to yourself before briefly looking around when you notice Sam had left a video message so you swipe the screen, and before you can press the play button your Uber arrives with a honk making you jump.

"Are you Y/n?" the driver asks, looking at his phone when you switch applications to see his information before replying to him.

"Yes I am" and he nods, waving his arm, letting you know you can get in, so you open the back passenger door to get in before you tell the driver where to go. While on the drive, you look at your phone again, and this time you open your suitcase to get your earbuds to connect to your phone, and once connected you place one earbud to your ear so you can listen to the video.

The first thing you see is Sam's face in the camera causing you to smile softly at your phone.

"Tara, am I doing this right?" she asked her little sister. 

Then Tara's face comes into view with a 'Are you serious?' look making you laugh before Tara turns to her sister "You have to press this button, Sam" she shows her older sister, as the camera started recording from the front camera now.

Then you hear a soft "Oh, thanks" from Sam, and for some reason that little line makes you smile even more as you look out the window to distract yourself from feeling overjoyed.

Then the video draws you back in as you hear a man mumbling a voice that was unfamiliar to you and it felt like Sam heard you because she shows you who it is.

"Detective Bailey," you say his name "You look like you'd be a Die Hard fan," you say to yourself as the camera moves away from Bailey to a big room and your jaw drops at the sight.

There are display cases littered all across the room in an organized fashion and Sam scans each one that interests her with her phone. "They’ve got the whole goddamn franchise" you hear Mindy say causing Sam to look over at her before Sam moves her phone camera to Kirby’s figure and you watch as your sister-in-law’s hand touches a blue flannel shirt which makes you remember the time that she felt safe enough to tell you about her ex-best friend.

Suddenly you start to realize why your sister-in-law asked you if you were free four days ago, and why you weren’t with Sam and Tara after you guys had been attacked at their apartment. Kirby asked you if you were free not because she wanted you to hang out with her but because she was afraid of losing a little sister to the darkness, having her past repeat itself, and she doesn’t want to lose another best friend to Ghost Face. This realization caused you to tear up because you didn’t think you would be so important in someone’s life like this, if at all, before you got distracted by Sam’s elevated breathing causing your eyes to be glued to your phone again.

You watch as Sam walks up to what you assume was the middle display case on a stage before the camera is lowered and you read at the bottom of the case “Billy Loomis.” 

The last name Loomis makes your ears perk up as you remember hearing that name coming out of your second eldest brother Tomas's mouth like Billy Loomis had done something to him personally before you watched Sam tuck away her phone. But she didn't tuck her phone in a way that you couldn't see what she was doing. In fact, you think she forgot she still had her phone recording "Why does that display case have your attention Sam?" you questioned.

Then you see Sam look at the glass with a look that resembles maybe curiosity, wariness, or a hint of something dark, you weren't sure. Then you hear Sam say "Fuck, no" as if there were another person near her as your eyes scan what little area you can see for the assailant before you watch Sam look directly at the display case but this time it was a look of temptation as you watch her put her hand the display case.

"What are you doing?" 

You hear Tara ask and suddenly you can breathe again not realizing you were holding your breath as Sam's phone fell to the floor making you jump.

“I got it," Tara says as you watch her pick up Sam’s phone before she continues her thoughts “I’ll send the video to Y/n for you” before ending the video.

After the video was done you look away from your phone to process what happened as you look around the Uber car that you were in before putting your earbuds away in your suitcase and your phone in your pocket as you arrive at your destination. As you get out of the car you go to the app and give your driver five stars because he earned it with all of the traffic and having sick Lofi music in the background while driving before waving at him as he left the curb when you turned around to go into the restaurant.

Now because you were early to arrive you decided to head in to get a seat for you and your client. "Hello, how can I help you today?" a Hostess asked you and you smiled.

"Hi I was wondering if I can get a table for two?" you asked and the Hostess nodded with a smile before looking over her shoulder where a waitress was able to help you find your table.

"Follow me miss," the waitress says as you follow her "My name is Bella and I'll be your waitress this morning,"  Bella says to you when you stopped near a table for two that is by the window. Before Bella leaves she says "Have a great breakfast with your partner" and you smiled awkwardly nodding and mouthing a thank you to her as you waited for your client who didn’t take long to arrive at the meeting as you were setting up your laptop.

“Oh my god, I apologize for taking so long, getting here was hell with all that traffic” 

You hear a woman say to you as you look up from your laptop to reply “Not a problem, I actually think your earl-” You started before you were cut off by the women’s beauty as your eyes examined her outfit. You notice she was wearing a rose silk blouse that revealed her cleavage and black suit pants that hugged her hips as you get a whiff of her powdery musk perfume and suddenly you think you’ve underdressed. “You must be Melanie Rodriguez correct? I got your email stating that you wanted to set up a business website but are having a hard time figuring out what design and layout you’re looking for.”

Melanie nods as she sits down smiling at how slightly nervous you look. “That is correct, I am currently running a small business called Slay the Day and I am looking to expand it in the future by making a website to gain further revenue and clients.” She says as you briefly look at her and nod with a hum as she examines what you were wearing, she licks her lips at your black turtleneck and black bra underneath them as her eyes wandered down your legs seeing your green tailored jogger pants before bringing her eyes to your face “You know Luna didn’t tell me that the person helping her build her business would be so inviting.”

At first, you smile at the mention of Luna’s name because you consider Luna and her wife Erika as your aunties, even though they aren’t related to you but they have mentioned time and time again how they’ve unofficially officially adopted you into their family from the moment you had worked for them while you were in Blackmore. “Yeah, Luna is a great woman, cook, and wife. The same goes for her wife Erika she knows how to really bake and she also makes a mean cup of joe at their little shop in Lower Manhattan. They’re actually hoping to expand their shop in a few months which I’m excited about” you say with a bright smile as you look up from your laptop to show Melanie what designs you had made for her before asking her more questions about her business, not picking up what she was trying to suggest. And for the few hours of your meeting drinking coffee and eating breakfast at the restaurant you never noticed once that Melani was checking you out and constantly licking her lips as she eyed you nor registered her words as being flirty. But the whole time she believes you weren’t just being nice to her but instead just giving her a really good chase that kept her at the edge of her seat.

While your friends in lower central park could not say the same as Sam and Tara walked around the park together constantly looking around and examining anyone and everyone who could be Ghost Face while your sister-in-law sat in a truck with the rest of your friends and talked to Bailey every now and again for updates. Then Sam gets a call to her phone making her pull her phone from her pocket to see who it when Richie’s face appeared, so she answers the phone while her little sister got closer to her to listen in “You're gonna die, you know” Sam quipped when Ghost Face laughed over the phone.

“No, your gonna die Samantha, choking on your own blood while I hack up your sister and that bitch of yours!” Ghost Face yells through the phone causing Sam to lock eyes with her sister while Kirby grinds her teeth while also trying to find Ghost Face’s location. 

“Unless we find you first asshole,” Sam says gripping her phone tightly, finding it rather tempting to make Ghost Face eat his words and cough up his own blood for making threats towards her little sister and you.

“You know for a mastermind you're not very bright. Just. Waiting for me. To call.” Ghost Face says making the last of his sentence stretch to keep Sam focused on his voice as he laughed again. “Desperately hoping I’m nearby so the police can grab me? Samantha how pathetic” Ghost Face continues. “But guess what. I’m not nearby Samantha, in fact, I’m one step ahead” making Sam stop in her tracks as she wonders who he could be targeting next “Be seeing you very soon, Samantha” Ghost Face ends the call.

“Kirby, did you get that?” Sam says with concern as she waits for an answer.

“Yep. I’m getting this fuckers location right now” Kirby says moving her fingers quickly across the keyboard “H-He’s on the Upper West Side. In an apartment building, halfway across the city.”

“On West 96?” Tara questioned making a guess.

“How did you know that?” Kirby says with surprise while she looked at the map before searching for your location before her hands stopped.

“That’s because Gale lives there,” Sam says as she starts running with her sister down a path and not too far behind them Detective Bailey, “I have a friend, Danny who works on the Upper West Side,” she says pulling out her phone “He might be able to get there before we do.”

But Detective Bailey disagrees “Yeah, or he could be there to finish killing Gale off,” he says making Sam and Tara look at each other as they keep running “Sam take a minute we don’t know if he's actually there! We need to do this the right way!” he yells.

And Sam stops to yell at Bailey “WE DON’T HAVE A MINUTE!” stopping him in his tracks because she’s not interested in losing another person in her life not when she sees Gale as another potential mother figure when Tara calls her over.

“Sam! Get in!” she says with a smirk as Sam runs to the police car before rolling up the window disregarding anything Bailey has to say to her and her sister.

“Should we use the sirens?” Sam asks as a smile danced on her lips making her sister smile nodding when Kirby chimes into the headset.

“Sam as much as I would hate to request this, how about you call Y/n she should be nearby the apartment” Kirby talks through the mic while Tara turned on the sirens, Sam’s smile falls as she looks at her sister before looking down.

“I’ll give her a call and I also gave Mindy Y/n’s keys” Sam informs Kirby as Kirby retrieves your keys from Mindy as they round up Chad and Ethan into your car, Tara looks over at her sister before driving out of there. Then Sam pulls her phone to call you as Tara looks over before correcting her driving as she almost hits another car “Keep your eyes on the road, Tara” Sam says to her little sister a little annoyed and ansty as she goes to her contacts to find your information, not hesitating to call you “Pick up Y/n. Please pick up your phone...come on baby answer me” she says desperately to herself.

Not realizing what time it was until you looked outside, you felt that it was pretty late. You looked at your phone as it read 6:10 pm and you were thinking ‘How did this meeting go on for this long?’ perhaps it was because you were getting a free meal out of it plus a drink or maybe you were enjoying the company, you weren't sure. In fact, you slowly started picking up certain flirtatious words and suggestions that Melanie was giving you which would make any woman swoon but not you, internally you were freaking out, it felt like you were cheating. Because this woman wasn’t your Sam you thought as you looked at the scarring on your left hand remembering Sam’s touch and it was like the universe had heard you because your phone vibrates in your pocket and you go to answer it “Sam?”

“Oh thank god! Y/n I need your help!” Sam talks urgently over the phone and you notice this and try to calm her down so you can understand what she has to say to you.

“Sam honey calm down, tell me what you need me to do?” you say to Sam not realizing that you said ‘honey’ in your sentence as your heart begins to race to hearing her talk while the woman across from you pays for the check.

“I need you to go to Gale’s apartment on West 96. She lives in a high-rise apartment…” Sam says her voice dying off while stressing out and you nod to every word she says as you pack up your things.

“I’m on it,” you say to her before getting off the phone and thanking your client “Thanks for dinner Melanie. I’ll get working on your website as soon as possible” and she nods, smiling at you while watching you leave the restaurant as you left with your suitcase running up Amsterdam Ave to get to Gale’s apartment. Upon arriving there you ask the desk agent to hold onto your suitcase as you run up the stairs to get to her apartment room while your legs screamed at you to stop but you didn’t let your body win this time as you finally got to Gale’s floor turning the corner. When you got closer to Gale’s room, you notice that the door is slightly open making you stop in your tracks as you hear a ringing noise in your ears as you tried to slow your breathing down before proceeding to enter her apartment, upon entering you walk passed a door with bullet holes in it while you see the carnage that Ghost Face left behind in front of you before your ears picked up on someone struggling beyond the hallway.

“Fuck You!” you hear Gale’s voice when you notice Ghost Face on top of her making you look around the room frantically when you notice a gun on the floor, picking it up before making your presence known.

“Hey, Asshole!'' You screamed pointing the gun at Ghost Face and as he ran away from Gale’s body, you shot at him, some of your shots missing as you walked around the couch to get to Gale before taking three more shots emptying the gun as all three bullets successfully hit Ghost Face’s back as you kneeled down. Before you attend to Gale, you point the empty gun down the exit that Ghost Face took making sure he doesn’t come back to surprise you, before you hear footsteps running down the hallway you took moments ago, pointing the empty gun there momentarily, placing it down when your eyes land on Sam and Tara as you sigh with relief as they ran over to you and Gale.

“Gale? Gale!” Sam screams coming over to kneel next to Gale, tears already forming at the corner of her eyes while you put aside your differences with Tara to focus on Sam.

“Sam, I need you to listen to me okay?” you say to her as she looks up from Gale to lock eyes with your own “Remember when we watched Keep Breathing together?” Sam gave you a questioning look before she understood what you were asking before getting up to get supplies while Tara looked at you like you were fucking nuts. “Tara, I need you to get me some rags from the kitchen and bathroom” and she nods knowing what she has to do, running over to the kitchen for rags before going to the bathroom to get some more before Tara and Sam regrouped with you.

“What are you trying to do Y/n?” Tara questions you as you take a thin cloth from Sam wrapping the cloth 5 inches above Gale’s thigh wound.

“I’m making a tourniquet, '' you say, making Sam cry and laugh at you before handing you a piece of the shelf not far from you three.

“Why would you remember that?” Sam says, looking at you as you stayed focused on Gale’s leg before turning the wood cylinder and stuffing it in the cloth again to keep it from getting loose as Gale got Sam’s attention.

“Sam,” Gales says as Sam holds her hand “Tell Sidney..” she continues as her breath becomes shallow.

“Tara hand me the rags,” you ask her as she hands the rags to you so you can apply pressure to Gale’s side “Stay with us Gale,” you say as your eyes start to tear up because you can feel something changing in the room as Tara looks at you.

“Tell Sidn-...Tell Sidney that he didn’t get me..” she says as you three saw how Gale’s eyes started to flutter close “Tell her, he never got me” she says last before losing consciousness making Sam sob over her body when you looked up to see a pair of paramedics come into the room, only getting up so they can take over. But Sam wasn’t leaving Gale’s side, because she couldn’t leave her knowing that she had hurt another person who was close to her, making her sob even more as her little sister tried to pull her away but she wouldn’t budge so you quickly walked around the paramedics to help.

“Sam...Sam,” you say her name a few times before you pull her up with Tara’s help “We need to let them do their job,” you say softly as you hold her hand to comfort her.

“We got a weak pulse,” a paramedic says before they turned to their partner “Get the backboard” they ended as the paramedic’s partner got up to get it.

The confirmation causes Sam to nod her head in understanding that Gale will be okay as she turns to you, searching for your eyes before squeezing your hand as she can feel your hand shaking in hers. You respond to Sam squeezing your hand with a squeeze back as you take a deep breath before you turned to look at her with soft eyes, Sam stares at you with her big brown orbs as they started to get glassy again making you pull her into you as she holds you tightly crying into your shoulder. After an hour, you guys went down to the lobby to regroup with your friends but when you entered Mindy, Chad, and Ethan’s view they were surprised to see you but you noticed how Ethan looked mad at you as you followed Tara’s figure to the lobby’s couch before Sam sat next to a plant. Then you remembered that you left your suitcase with the desk agent and your sudden movement to get it made Sam look for you, and when you retrieved your suitcase you decided you would sit on one of the couches behind Sam closer to the elevator when Sam grabbed your wrist before getting up to follow you into the next room.

“I’m glad you came when you did,” Sam tells you in a soft tone as she examines your features after you had placed your suitcase down and took hold of her hand again but this time you're rubbing them.

“You called Sam, how could I say no,” you say looking up at her eyes and smiling before looking down at her hand.

Sam then begins to mirror you but the only difference is that she takes notice of what you're wearing like the black turtle neck that is pressed against your body from sweating, the outline of your bra, and the green tailored jogger pants that look relaxing to wear but hug your waist just right. The sight causes Sam to stare at you for a few minutes until she breathes through her nose catching a strange perfume on you “Y/n were you with anyone when I called you?” Sam asked, worried that someone took your heart before she did. 

Her question caused you to look up at her “Uh yeah I was with a woman named Melanie earlier she owns a store around here called Slay the Day...I was meeting with her at a restaurant nearby, why?”

“Because you don’t normally smell this bad,” she says poking fun at you without insulting you and you smile before playfully punching her stomach. The impact of your fist made you short-circuit because you didn’t think she was built like that, you end up touching the skin that was exposed. 

“Wow…what is your workout routine?” you asked Sam with genuine curiosity while you touched her midsection poking it and pressing it with your fingers at her muscles.

But Sam couldn’t answer you, she was too consumed by the feeling of your fingers touching what little skin is exposed between her shirt and pants relishing in this feeling as she finds it makes her want to kiss you even more while she slowly inches closer to you until you took your hand away when Sam lifted her head to see Danny walking through the entrance doors. 

“Hey. Hey,” he says running into the building when he spots you and Sam walk into the main part of the lobby together. “I got here as fast as I could,” Danny says next before looking at your hands “Why do you have blood on your hands?” he questions as everyone looks at your hands.

“Y/n was helping Me and Tara keep Gale alive until the paramedics arrive..that's why she has blood on her hands,” Sam says putting herself in front of you considering that Danny tried to attack you a few days ago and he knows that too as he gave a nod.

“I want a truce” he continued putting his hands up before standing side by side with Sam and you as you three looked at your friends.  

"Where do we even go from here?" Chad says with concern as you can see the tiredness in his eyes as you do with Mindy and Tara.

“Isn't there a safe place we can hole up in?” Ethan says with both a tired and wired look in his eyes.

Then Danny gives a suggestion "You guys can hole up in my apartment if you want, the more people there, the less likely for the Ghost Fucker to appear" making everyone nod slowly.

"How do we know that you aren't the Ghost Face from earlier?" Tara asks while looking at Danny with a dark and tired stare. The look only causes Danny to straighten up to defend himself because he has evidence to back his claim.

"Because I was at work this whole time plus Sam's known me for almost a year now, emotionally and physically. I would also never hurt your sister" he says smiling a little before continuing "That's longer than she's known Y/n." Danny ends, making you reach for your neck to message out of discomfort, not because Sam knew Danny emotionally and physically but because Sam only regarded him as a friend whenever she would talk vaguely about him to you and not her boyfriend. Now due to the new information about Sam, you decided that you would sit down near Tara unintentionally hurting Sam's feelings at the loss of closeness before she looks over at Danny with a clenched jaw.

This gave Tara and Mindy food for thought as they were both thinking 'Then why did Sam call Y/n and not you cute boy?' before looking at each other and then at you, as you look at the blood on your hands. 

Then Sam nods, weighing her options before looking at you, and before she could say anything you speak up "I think if it's okay with Sam and Tara I say you guys should hole up at Danny's place and figure out a plan" You say before looking at Sam and Tara as the Carpenter sisters look at each other nodding.

That was before Sam repeated what you had said back to herself in her head ‘I say you guys should hole up at Danny’s place’ Once again before she could say anything Tara beat her to the punch as she replayed the same message back in her own noggin. “Why the hell would you not come with us to this guy's apartment, Y/n?” she says, examining your features, only to recognize your sudden hesitation.

“Well for one Tara uh…there wouldn’t be enough room in my car if that is how you guys got here to begin with. Plus I wouldn’t want to..you know wouldn’t want him to feel claustrophobic in his own home” You say pulling all the stops. Tara wasn’t by all means stupid, in fact, she could tell by your eyes alone that you weren’t comfortable with the idea of being in Danny’s apartment if he was involved with Sam and this wasn’t the first time that you would relay to her that you were uncomfortable. Before all of this happened and before Tara decided to go to parties to drown herself in booze she would have to beg and schedule days for you so you can meet her friends  Mindy, Anika, Chad, and her sister Sam or at the very least hang out in her apartment for college assignments and relax afterward. But now, now it's different you were standoffish and cautious when you first met Tara growing out of it with time but now she sees that you're trying your hand at self-preservation all because Sam had hurt your feelings and Tara doesn’t know if she should throw hands with her sister or punch cute boy Danny in the dick.   

“Fine,” Tara says in defeat making Sam, Mindy, and Chad look at her with a ‘Are you fucking serious?’ look, nodding at you slowly to give you more time as she herself wants to take that time to figure out how to say sorry for being a horrible friend. 

Before Mindy attempts to give you back your keys “Here’s your keys kid” and you shake your head with a smile.

“You guys can keep it for a few more days” you say making Sam look at you with concern before you moved your head to look at her “Just incase you guys need to haul ass from the apartment and besides I had ordered an Uber to pick me up” you say before getting up to hug your friends except Danny but when it came to Sam you both held the others gaze. “Alright Sam your the last person to get that type of hug, how do you feel about that?” you say with a tired smile before Sam brings you into a bear hug as you do the same back.

Sam tells you “Text me when you get home please” in a low voice only for you to hear as you nod against her shoulder at her request as you both hesitate to let each other go and when you both do pull away from each other, you examine Sam’s face.

“I will and if you need someone to talk to, you know how to get in touch with me,” you say as you bring your hand up to stroke Sam’s cheek as she nodded, a gesture your friends know you wouldn’t do unless you really cared about them before you remove yourself from Sam to retrieve your suitcase from the other room, heading for the exit afterward.

All the while Sam watches your figure walk away from the group with a look of longing as you disappeared beyond the doorway before she turned her body to her sister and friends not noticing that Tara and Mindy who were both watching your interaction were finding it rather sickening that Sam is pining so hard for you.

But that didn't change the fact that Tara and Mindy who were now looking at each other weren't scheming to get you both together in the same room or at least closer in some way.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 2.5  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5  Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

Stay in my mentions crew: @daddy-carpenter @lummaland @screechcat @grandpatrolnut @octavias-next-meat-bite @fanboy7794 @werewolfbansheelove

MIA: Missing in Action

Scream 6 : A Love so Understanding Playlist

[eviethenut]

SOMEONE SAID YES TO WANTING TO READ MY FLIMSY MICHAEL AFTON THEORY, SO HERE IT IS!!

Alright, so, the theory is pretty much this: Michael afton is not only alive after the fire, but is the CEO of the fazbear entertainment brand, and under glitchtraps control

Alright

Quick warning: My theory is flimsy at best! I’m not a theorist, this is just a theory that I got from watching a bunch of other theories, and it just kinda showed up in my head, and it wont leave!

So, I'm going to start by explaining that last part first.

There isn't much evidence for this, except, one detail, from help wanted.

In help wanted, tape girl mentions how the client stole the ?circuit boards? (I don't remember what they were.)

Anyways

Tape girl mentions in the middle of the night, the client snuck in and stole back the thingies they had scanned into the game to get glitchtrap.

There seems to be no clear motive to do this, really. Especially considering that, everywhere else, our mysterious ceo character, seems to be helping glitchtrap spread. Like, they gave the company the card thingies in the first place, they promoted Vanessa to head of security despite her being less than qualified and not recommended for the position. Not to mention, it's not a stretch to assume people get away with murder at the pizzaplex, with the missing childs newspaper and the missing therapists, who in the books got led to the pizzaplex. So, this one moment. This one line from tape girl, where this CEO character does something, to seemingly try and stop glitchtrap. It's very out of character. Unless you consider the fact that this may be a sign of resistance, like another reluctant follower. 

Alright

So

Ignoring how flimsy that evidence is,

We’ve established our CEO to be under the control of glitchtrap, 

But

Now I need to explain why I think this CEO is Michael afton.

Let's start out with, again, my only real piece of evidence

Michaels room in the pizzaplex

Why is it there?

How did it get there?

To get Michael Aftons room in the pizzaplex, and an exact replica of it at that, it would’ve had to have been put there by someone with power.

Someone in the plans for building this pizzaplex, had to have put that room in the designs

And they had to know exactly what it looked like, down to the exotic butters on top of the tv.

No one at fazbear entertainment would just, know what michael's living room looked like, or cared about what his living room looked like

They would have no reason to replicate it

Unless

It was request by someone (important) who did know about it, who had sat in that chair hundreds of times

And, while I know cut content should really be used, but just because a certain detail got scrapped, doesn't mean the whole story around it did

In fnaf AR, there is a cut email literally from michael afton. Which makes me think he did not die in the fire. 

And like I said, just because that one email got scrapped, doesn't mean that the entire story around it did.

Again

I said this evidence was flimsy

It was very flimsy

But, idk

What do you all think?

Did I do good? 

Any critics?

(@luckyglasses)

[viesanterieures]

Locked In Mind

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

note: Welcome to my third Cillian Character fanfic, hope you like it :) I love plots like Shutter Island and tried to do something similar here & it‘s also a story about parasocial relationships and unrequited love.

summary: The reader is hopelessly in love with her boss Robert Fischer, but he doesn't seem to be interested in her. By an unexpected coincidence, they meet in the city and his sudden intense affection for her confuses her. The reader begins to suspect that something is wrong, and when she finally uncovers the truth about her encounters with Fischer the heartbreaking reality is revealed to her.

word count: 5000+

Masterlist

warnings: mental illness, depression

you don‘t have to watch the movie to understand the story.

It was just half past seven when she heard the familiar footsteps in the corridor approaching the office next door. A key was inserted into the lock and a moment later the door opened.

Glancing around to make sure her workspace wasn't too messy, she threw an old paper cup into the bin before her boss poked his head through the door.

"Good morning, Miss YN, so busy already?" he asked with a tired smile. "It doesn't reflect well on me as a boss to have my assistant here before me. I'm sorry, Monday mornings are always a bit stressful for me."

"No problem, Mr Fischer. I've already sorted the mail for you, it's on your desk," she said kindly, watching him as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, a little damp from the rain.

"Thank you, I can count on you."

He was a very elegant, handsome man, about ten years her senior, with dark hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones and an elegant black suit. She must have stared at him a little too long, because he turned to her with a questioning smile.

Immediately her cheeks flushed and she turned back to her computer screen, but by then Mr Fischer had already approached her and placed some documents on her desk. "Please scan them all and email them to Mr Parker, he's been waiting for them for days," he said to her. It would be best if we sat down together later and quickly discuss my tasks for today, there is a lot to do. If I'm not mistaken, I have a client meeting at three today.

"At two, sir," she corrected him, handing him a planner with today's date thickly underlined.

He started to grin. "You see, this is exactly why I have an assistant."

Fischer disappeared into his office.

She sighed slightly and went to work scanning the documents. She had been working for Fischer Morrow, one of the world's largest energy companies, for barely a month. Their headquarters had moved from Sydney to London after the death of their CEO, Maurice Fischer. Her current boss, Robert Fischer, was a direct descendant.

She liked Fischer Jr a lot. He was friendly, supportive and didn't get angry when things didn't go to plan. But in some ways he always seemed so unapproachable. For example, he never talked about his private life and YN had no idea who he was outside of work. Then again, he was her boss and his private life was none of her business. But deep down she admitted that she was very interested in him.

The days flew by and she finally felt as if she had been employed by Fischer Morrow for an eternity. But who Robert Fischer really was remained a mystery.

One evening, as she was about to leave, she quietly opened the door to Fischer's office. He was sitting in front of his computer, his chin resting on his hands. "Have a nice evening, Mr Fischer." He jumped slightly, obviously not having heard her come in, but then he smiled. "Thank you, you too."

YN looked at her watch. "It's almost half past seven, don't you want to finish your work soon? Don't you have a wife waiting for you?"

Mr Fischer shrugged. "I've been divorced for a few years now, and I only see my daughter at weekends. The only thing waiting for me is an empty, dark apartment."

YN held her breath. It was the first time he had told her anything about his private life. But in the same second, he seemed to regret his words.

"No one waits for me either," she said. "Except for my cat."

Fischer raised an eyebrow with a smile. "At least that's something."

Finally she said goodbye and left the office. But all the way home, she kept thinking about her conversation with Fischer.

Was he perhaps as lonely as she was?

Tired, YN lay in bed. She didn't even have the strength to change her clothes and remove her make up. Although she wanted nothing more than to get out of that itchy, uncomfortable dress and tights. A soft meow sounded beside her and she felt something soft brush against her arm. Smiling, she pulled the cat closer and buried her face in its white fur.

Since leaving her small home village for London, she had no one to talk to. Her old friends had all left her and moved on with their own lives. Robert Fischer was the only one she spoke to regularly, though it was far from a friendship. With the cat in her arms, she turned to the other side. But what if she had feelings for him?

Maybe she should tell him. But wasn't that too much? He was still her boss, after all, and there were probably plenty of women who were interested in him.

She quickly pushed the thought aside and closed her eyes.

Robert Fischer turned curiously when he heard the quick clicking of heels in the corridor. Panting, his assistant opened the door and dropped her bag on the desk.

"Miss YN, are you okay?"

Her hair was messy, her coat hung loosely over her shoulders as if she hadn't had time to put it on properly, and her lipstick was a little smudged.

"I… overslept," she said, panting. "I'm sorry."

Fischer looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "It's okay. But it shouldn't happen again."

"Of course not, sir," she replied immediately.

He quickly disappeared into his office and returned with a thick stack of papers and a folder.

"Would you be so kind as to sort these documents alphabetically for me? They've been on my desk for days. I know it's not an exciting task."

She nodded and took the heavy pile from his hand. Fischer thanked her and hurried back to his office.

Sighing, she set to work. But with each page, she found her concentration fading and her mind wandering. Her head ached, her eyes burned and she felt incredibly tired. But she tried not to show it, kept working as hard as she could and finally put the sorted file back on Mr Fischer's desk.

Exhausted, she walked back to her office, sat down in her chair and buried her face in her hands. She was shivering and her ears were ringing. Was it because she had forgotten to take her medicine today?

"Miss YN?" she heard her boss' voice.

She turned immediately and forced a smile. "Yes, Mr Fischer?"

"I have an job interview scheduled for ten, would you be so kind as to prepare the conference room for it?"

"Of course, sir."

He stopped halfway and looked at Victoria questioningly. "Are you okay? You look so pale." She nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Everything's fine, Mr Fischer." Fischer looked at her, raised his eyebrows, then handed her the key to the meeting room and disappeared back into his office.

A strange feeling of dizziness spread through her head as she walked down the long corridor leading to the conference rooms.

What was wrong with her today?

When it started to get dark outside, YN finally turned off her computer and grabbed her bag. The strange dizziness had improved during the day, leading her to conclude that she simply needed a break from work. Fortunately, it was Friday. She knocked gently on Fischer's door, as she always did before leaving, to wish him a pleasant evening. He was sitting there as usual, his chin resting on his hand, deep in thought. He glanced up briefly and nodded politely, noticing her in the doorway. He looked stunningly handsome today, even after this long and exhausting day.

"I didn't ask you how the job interviews went this morning," she asked curiously. Fischer shook his head. "Terribly," he said. "None of these people I'd want in my company." His voice was cold and dismissive, and for a moment she thought he was referring to her, even though she knew he meant someone else. She smiled awkwardly and shrugged slightly. "Well, maybe the next one will be better."

Fischer remained silent.

"Have a good weekend, Mr Fischer."

"You too, Miss YN." He gave her a friendly smile.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend? I know a good restaurant, would you like to join me?" The moment she realised what she had just said, she bit her lip, her face turning red. Had she completely lost her mind? She desperately hoped he hadn't heard what she'd asked, but it was too late. She could see Fischer raise his eyebrows in confusion and stare at her.

"No, Miss YN. I'm not interested. I keep my work and personal life strictly separate." She immediately looked down, embarrassed. Thoughts raced through her mind like a rollercoaster and her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. "I'm sorry, Mr Fischer, I shouldn't have asked you that." She finally grabbed her bag and left the office without another word, feeling Fischer's gaze on her back.

It was drizzling lightly as she walked through the busy streets of London. The cold air did her good and she felt her head clear a little.

Why had she done this? It had been clear from the start that a man like him would reject her. But the words had come out of her mouth as if she had completely lost control. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and quickly wiped it away. She didn't want to have a mental breakdown in public, even though it felt like Fischer had torn her heart into a thousand pieces. Suddenly the strange dizziness returned and her vision blurred slightly. The sounds of London became muffled, as if she were incredibly far away.

Miss YN, wait!" she suddenly heard a voice behind her that seemed to be getting closer.

She turned around. The dizziness had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Startled, her eyes widened as she saw the person in front of her - it was Mr Fischer. What was he doing here? Had he followed her? She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a hoarse stutter.

"I wanted to apologize, Miss YN. It wasn't very nice of me to brush you off like that," he said with a gentle laugh. His voice sounded strangely different, softer than usual. Wordless and spellbound, she stared into the pair of light blue eyes before her, apologetic and gentle in their expression. She knew Mr Fischer had blue eyes, but she'd never noticed how incredibly bright they were.

"It's okay, don't worry," she managed to say, her knees shaking with excitement.

"No, no, Miss YN. I'll think about the dinner offer, okay? Just because we work together doesn't mean we can't have dinner together, does it?" Fischer suggested, and she nodded slowly, then smiled.

Why this sudden change of mind?

"Well, see you soon." He waved goodbye and YN, still completely confused, raised her hand in response. But before she could form another thought, he had disappeared into the crowd.

Carefully, YN pressed the shutter on her old camera, focusing the lens on the small lake in front of her. Satisfied, she lowered it. She was confident that this snapshot would turn out well. This park was a place she often visited to clear her head and pursue her passion, photography, as it offered many beautiful subjects. Especially now, in autumn, when the trees were covered with colourful leaves and the silence was slowly descending, with only the occasional pedestrian passing by.

Her dizziness had eased a little, but not completely. Fortunately, it was Saturday and she had the whole day to herself. YN sat down on a bench under a tree that looked to be at least a hundred years old.

She sat there for a while, lost in thought. Eventually she got up and made her way to the West End. The streets of London were noisy and busy as she walked, looking for a warm place in a café and something to eat. Crowds of people rushed past her, music played from somewhere and loud voices filled the air. Exhausted, she rubbed her temples. Maybe she should have stayed home and rested.

Suddenly she held her breath as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Dark hair, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. Fischer. But before she could think, he had already noticed her and started to smile at her.

"Miss YN, how nice to see you! What a coincidence!"

It was the first time she had seen him in his casual clothes rather than one of his business suits. But this was no less elegant and stylish. He was wearing a well-fitting black coat, a grey knitted jumper underneath, black trousers and leather shoes. It was so strange to see him outside his office at Fischer Morrow Company. Suddenly he didn't seem so unapproachable and distant anymore.

"What are you doing here?" she asked curiously.

He paused for a moment. He seemed to be considering whether or not to tell her.

"I brought my little girl to her friend's house for a sleepover. She's been asking me for weeks because her mum won't let her."

"So you're a cool dad," YN replied.

Fischer rolled his eyes. "I'm the one who lets her get away with everything. We had to turn back twice because she realised she had forgotten her favourite stuffed animal and her toothbrush."

She laughed softly. In a strange way, she enjoyed him talking so openly about his life.

"Oh wow, that looks amazing. It's quite old, isn't it?" Mr Fischer pointed to the camera around her neck. "From the 1960s. But it takes incredibly good pictures for that time," she explained. Fischer seemed genuinely impressed. "Do you have more like it?"

"I have quite a few. From the 50s to the 80s, actually, and of course some modern digital cameras. Photography has been my passion since I was a child," she explained. Fischer looked at her with an interested smile. "So there's actually film in there that needs to be developed?" she nodded in confirmation. "Some photo shops still offer that service, yes."

Mr Fischer seemed genuinely interested in her hobby, asking her questions about it as they walked side by side through the streets of London. She felt incredibly comfortable in his presence and hoped he wouldn't leave so soon. Finally he pointed to the camera again. "Would you take a picture of me, please? I'd like a 60's style photo of myself." YN's heart began to race in her chest. What had he just said?

"Of course, Mr Fischer," she replied nervously. "Robert. My name is Robert," he replied. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, completely surprised. No one at Fischer Morrow Ltd called him by his first name, and outside the company she had only heard his uncle, Peter Browning, call him Robert.

"Let's find a nice spot for the photo," he said, letting his gaze wander until it settled on a beautiful fountain.

Carefully, she picked up the camera, took a few steps back and held it directly in front of Robert's face. "Smile, please," she instructed him, finally pressing the shutter.

A pedestrian who had just passed them looked at YN with a confused expression and shook his head. Frowning, she looked after him before carefully tucking the camera into her handbag.

Are you hungry?" asked Robert. "We could go to a restaurant."

Surprised, she looked at him. "I don't know…" she said hesitantly, chewing her lower lip. In fact, she had never expected to be asked such a question.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows and she could see the disappointment in his eyes. Finally, she worked up the courage to say what was on her mind.

"It's just… To be honest, you told me yesterday that you were someone who kept your work and personal life strictly separate. Maybe it would be better if we did. After all, I'm your employee."

As much as she wanted to spend time with him, she was afraid of developing any more feelings for him. Robert nodded slowly and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

"I really like you. I just never wanted to show it, that's why I was so reserved with you and told you I wasn't interested in you".

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh as a ton of thoughts went through her head. Robert finally nodded at her with a slightly disappointed look on his face and turned on his heel.

"Wait!" she called after him.

He stopped immediately and looked at her hopefully.

"Let's give it a try, shall we?"

YN… is that a French name?"

Robert's voice sounded slightly tipsy as he grinned curiously at her, twirling his wine glass casually in his hands. The plate in front of him was empty and he had now carefully placed the cutlery on it, waiting for a waitress to take it away.

He had taken her to a rather fancy and expensive place, the walls were dark wood panelling, the chairs were covered in red velvet and soft jazz music was playing on one of the radios. Robert looked hauntingly beautiful that night. His skin seemed incredibly soft and flawless, his jawline even more prominent, and his blue eyes shone almost ghostly in the dim light, almost like he wasn’t real…

She smiled, nodded and took a sip from her glass. "My father is French. I grew up in France but moved to England when I was 15."

He nodded with interest, rubbing his chin with his forefinger.

"And you? I heard you're Australian," she asked curiously.

Robert laughed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Well, my accent makes it obvious."

YN blushed and looked down at her plate. What a stupid question.

But Robert didn't seem to mind too much, because he started talking about his life in Sydney, how he had finally moved to London after his father's death, and she listened with interest.

But suddenly he stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. "But I'm probably just boring you."

YN immediately shook her head. "No, you're not," she told him. "I find it really interesting to find out all this about you."

At that moment a waitress came to their table with a smile and asked YN in a friendly tone if she had enjoyed her meal. But the waitress paid no attention to Robert, YN noticed with surprise. Perhaps she was just being extra polite to the lady.

YN's date pulled out a black leather purse and rummaged through it. Quickly, YN pulled a few notes out of the bag and handed them to the waitress. "Keep the change," she said.

The waitress looked at her with wide eyes, "Thank you, ma'am," she said gratefully, "have a nice evening.

Then she turned and left the table.

"You didn't have to do that," Robert said. "As a gentleman, it's actually my job to pay."

She shook her head in amusement. "I bet that's never happened to you before, has it?"

Robert shook his head and took the last drink from his glass. There was a moment of silence between them.

"All right. So what's the plan for the rest of the evening?"

She looked at him in surprise. As soon as he said the words, she felt a tingle in her stomach.

The church clock struck twelve as she crossed the street hand in hand with Robert. It was freezing, and she had pulled her scarf so far up her face that only her eyes and nose were visible. Her date looked at her with amusement. "Are you going to rob a bank?" he asked, laughing out loud.

"Shh!" she snapped at him, putting her fingers to his lips. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

Although it was quite dark and she could only make out Robert, she knew that his typical mischievous grin was back on his face. She pulled him firmly behind her until they reached the small white building.

"Is this where you live?" Robert asked.

She put her finger to his lips for a second time until Robert stopped talking and looked silently into her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she finally stood on her toes, put her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his. Robert returned the kiss without hesitation and gently pulled her into his arms. YN could hardly believe what was happening. It was everything she had secretly wanted for months. They remained like this for a moment before she finally let go of him and reached for her key.

She felt for Robert's upper arm and finally pulled him into her apartment, closing the door behind him. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and began to kiss him again. His lips were a little cold and tasted of wine. Together they stumbled backwards into her bedroom, taking off his coat, which she tossed carelessly to the floor.

Robert's fingers stroked carefully along her hip and fumbled a little with her belt while she was busy planting little kisses on his neck. With slightly trembling hands she pulled his jumper over his head and Robert took her hand.

"Are you nervous?" he wanted to know. She remained silent.

"Don't be," he whispered softly into her ear, taking her in his arms again and pulling her onto the bed. Breathing softly, she clung to his chest, leaned back and finally closed her eyes as she felt his warm skin against hers.

The sun shone through the half-open curtains, creating a narrow, bright streak across the floor. Blinking, she opened her eyes and stretched. But immediately a sharp pain shot through her head again and she held her forehead tiredly. Confused, she sat up and tried to remember what had happened yesterday.

But when she heard soft breathing next to her, she turned quickly and all the events of last night came back to her. Smiling, she looked over at Robert, snuggled up next to her in her beige blanket, sleeping peacefully. Tenderly stroking his messy hair, she lay down beside him again and then began to caress his chest. Perhaps what they had done was wrong. After all, they were two people who should never have fallen in love. But it had happened, and it felt so right. They remained in this position for some time, Robert asleep and YN lost in thought.

Her eyes swept through the bedroom until they settled on a small white box on her dresser. Quickly sitting up, she reached for it and put a small pill into her mouth. Eventually, Robert began to move a little beside her, opening his eyes tiredly. Smiling broadly, she gave him a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"Good morning," Robert murmured in a raspy morning voice.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes, wonderfully." He yawned loudly and took her into his arms as she laid her head lovingly on his shoulder.

"Wait, what time is it?" he suddenly wanted to know.

"Quarter past ten, why do you ask?" she replied.

"Shit," Robert muttered as he let go of the hug, jumped out of the bed and started to pick up his clothes, which were strewn all over the floor.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?" she asked, looking at him in confusion.

"I should've picked up my daughter by now," he replied, hurrying to get dressed.

Sighing, she pulled the blanket around her a little tighter. "Can't it wait? Can't you stay for breakfast?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm sure she's already waiting for me.“ Robert dodged her questions, grabbing his coat on the floor and sighing when he saw her disappointed look.

He walked slowly towards her, stroking her chin with his finger, and finally whispered: "We can catch up later." Then he put a soft kiss on her lips before turning around and disappearing through the door. She sank back into the pillows and pulled the blanket over her head.

The rest of Sunday flew by. Mostly because her mind was on Robert and she could hardly wait to see him again tomorrow at work. She had probably never looked forward to a Monday in her life as much as she did that day.

The next morning, YN carefully applied her lipstick and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She noticed that the collar of her white blouse was a little crooked and quickly adjusted it. She wanted to look her best for Robert today, so he wouldn't change his mind and lose interest in her.

Humming softly, she put on her black high heels and grabbed her handbag. She quickly put another pill into her mouth and put the box in her bag. Her headache was completely gone and her head finally felt clear and light again. In a good mood, she breathed in the fresh morning air and made her way to work.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked down the familiar corridor of Fischer Morrow. The lights were on in Robert's office. She ran a final hand through her hair, smoothed her blouse and opened the door to her own office.

The air was stuffy and hot. Coughing, she ran to the window and opened it.

"Good morning, Miss YN, I hope you had a nice weekend," a familiar voice sounded from behind her.

Startled, she turned to see Robert's face as he stuck his head through the door, as he always did.

Why didn't he call her by her first name? Confused, she stared at him, trying to form a clear sentence. "But… But… we spent it together…" her voice finally broke. Her head suddenly hurt again.

He seemed so different again. Not the Robert she had spent the weekend with, not the one who had apologised for being too rude to her, not the one who had made her laugh and told her about his life. He seemed more like the one she had worked with for months, the one who never revealed anything about himself.

"Miss YN? I haven't seen you since Friday, when you left my office after… asking me that question."

Her heart almost stopped. Suddenly her knees gave way and she sank to the floor.

"Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?" Concerned, he bent down to her. "Do you want to go home and rest?"

She nodded slightly and wiped a tear from her eye, which had turned her fingers black from the carefully applied mascara. Then she got up and left the office.

At home, she lay motionless on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't think straight and her throat felt incredibly dry. The door to her room, which was only ajar, opened gently and something small and white slipped through. Sniffling, she stretched out her arms and lifted her cat onto the bed.

Everything that had happened that weekend had been fake. She had made it all up. And all of this happened because she had forgotten to take the pills she was taking for her delusions. Robert hadn't really followed her on Friday evening; it was all a figment of her imagination. While his real self was still sitting in the office, probably not thinking about her at all. Everything suddenly made sense: why Robert looked a bit different, why his voice sounded different, the waitress who ignored him on Saturday because she couldn’t actually see him, the pedestrian who gave her a confused look because she was talking to herself while taking the photo.

The photo.

She immediately got up, put on her shoes and walked to the photo shop where she had left the film to be developed. Her heart raced as the staff handed her the envelope with the photos. Trembling, she finally grabbed the Saturday night photo, without looking at it herself, and held it up to the staff's face. "What do you see?" she asked.

The young man looked at her in confusion, but remained polite. "The fountain at Piccadilly Circus. Great picture, it turned out really nice."

"Anything else?" she asked.

"No, ma'am," he replied, and it felt like a slap in her face. Fischer had never been there with her. Only her lonely and sad mind had led her to believe that he was interested in her and loved her. Tears welled in her eyes and she left the shop without another word. When she got home, she immediately took the white box of pills from her handbag, rushed into the kitchen, opened the box and poured the pills into the bin.

Crying and with burning eyes, she finally lay down on her bed and buried her head in the pillow as her cat purred softly beside her. She must have stayed like that for hours, as the sun began to set again outside her window. When she finally lifted her head and wiped the tears from her face, she saw a dark-haired man sitting beside her bed, looking at her lovingly with his pale blue eyes. A smile suddenly appeared on her face and she began to laugh, pulling the man into a tight embrace.

some explanations because i know that story is kinda mind-fucking:

• Is Robert Fischer all a creation of the readers mind?

- No he actually exists, he’s her boss and she‘s in love with him, so she imagines dating him.

• When is he real, when is he fake?

- The version Robert Fischer in the office is real, he turns her down when she asks him out, leaving YN heartbroken. The moment she leaves the office, she starts to imagine what it would be like if he apologised to her, so the man who follows her is just her imagination. The real Robert Fischer is still in his office at Fischer-Morrow.

When she visits the city on Saturday and meets "Robert" and goes on a date with him, it's also just her imagination. That's why other people react to her with confusion, because she's basically talking to herself all the time. On Sunday morning, when she wakes up next to him, he's still fake. When she takes her pills, he quickly "disappears" (he says he has to pick up his daughter...) because they stop her delusions.

On Monday morning, when she gets back to her office, the real Robert Fischer is there again, who hadn't seen her since he had rejected her on Friday evening.

When she gets home, she throws away her pills and her delusions begin again. The man who sat next to her on the bed and comforted her is again the imaginary version of Robert.

[hiphop-rap-and-basketball]

Tattoo • Jayson Tatum

Pairing: Jayson Tatum and Tattoo Artist Reader

Word Count: 2,290

Summary: Tattoo artist reader finally gets the chance to have her first big name client in her chair, Boston Celtics star Jayson Tatum.

A/N: Think of this as tension but like good tension, lol . Also, I swore I had posted this. But I didn’t realize I didn’t finish it but I was so close to having it done! What a treat to have something to post for now☺️☺️ plus I wrote it over a year ago so ages might have changed but oh well. Undecided on how many parts quite yet, just hope you enjoy for now ❤️

• • •

You had a lot of clients these days in the shop you worked at now. As the word got around that you were one of the up and coming new and talented artists, you gained more and more clientele as time went on. But there was one client who you just could not wait to see at the shop again. But this time around, you had hoped he would sit in your chair for his next appointment.

It was 11am now. Today when you opened up shop by yourself, you had to sweep and sanitize surfaces. Once you finished, you sat and waited for your first client to walk in.

You heard the familiar ring of the swinging door and you looked up, feeling pleased it was exactly who you wanted it to be.

“Hello,” you greeted him cheerfully as he walked through the door, all alone. You studied his outfit for a moment. It was casual and comfy. You wondered what he had planned on getting done today.

“Hello… Is Steve in today?” He asked, looking down at the glass table that displayed and array of different jewelry in between the two of you before looking up again.

“Oh- um no, not yet. Not until 1… how can I help you?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sound eager.

“Ohhh, okay I’ll just come back then,” he stated. He was very soft spoken.

“You sure? Did you want to just book a consultation with him in the meantime?” You asked him while turning the front desk computer on to pull up the scheduling system. “He might have something booked at the time he comes in, I’ll have to check.”

“Ahhh-well I’m looking for a certain type of piece to be drawn up…” he began as he started pulling out his phone. You watched him as he focused on scrolling through his phone with his lip pulled between his teeth and eyebrows scrunched.

“This picture but… I want it to say ‘like father, like son,’ underneath.”

You held his phone and scanned the photo for a moment.

“That’s sweet,” you replied, “did you want to just sent it over to the store email?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

“You need it?” You asked him.

“Nah, I still got it,” he stated, keeping his eyes locked on his phone.

When he sent it and you pulled it up, you admired the photo.

“That’s my son,” he stated proudly.

“That’s so sweet,” you grinned, admiring the photo. You gave him a price estimate and he shrugged and agreed to it.

“Will you be doing it then?” He asked you softly and you smiled at how sweet he seemed.

“Depends… Do you trust me?” You asked while looking up at him. Your tone came out more flirty than you intended. You almost missed his small eyebrow raise.

“I mean- if you got the job here I’d hope you have some skill,” he responded and you weren’t sure if you should be offended or not. You crossed your arms and listened to him as he continued.

“It’s just the placement… I didn’t want to make a woman uncomfortable… I wanted it right here,” he stated, patting on his thigh.

“I’ve unfortunately tattooed penis’s before… so at this point I don’t think it can get worse than that,” you shrugged and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“If it’s cool with you,” he shrugged. “I’m Jayson by the way.”

“Y/N,” you responded nonchalantly. “And hey- it’s my job and it’s on your body. Are you comfortable with it?” You asked him and he nodded.

“Okay, I’ll just get this drawn up then but before that, I’ll just need you to sign some papers.”

•••

He shook off his sweatpants and readjusted his shorts he had underneath before he sat down. You felt your throat get dry in response and caught yourself before you started staring for longer than you should.

When he sat back in the chair you remembered how you’d have to keep it professional. Reminding yourself that he was just another client. A really well-known individual who smelled amazing the closer you got to him. And clients should not make your heart beat and hands sweaty because it was your job to stay still and focused while you worked.

You watched yourself, avoiding any fumbling before he thought any worse of you.

You performed the usual procedure as you sanitized his skin and shaved the hair off the area. You focused on the spot avoiding eye contact with him at first until you relaxed. You were pleased at how calm he seemed and you looked forward to gaining his trust in the process.

You regained focus again, gathering together all your tattoo guns and ink included. You kept your cool and managed to get a conversation going with him.

“So what if I told you you were my first real person I’ve tattooed?” You asked him and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t believe you, I was looking at some of your work in the front while you drew it up, You’re really talented,” he smiled and you quickly looked down before his smile became the next distraction you didn’t need right now.

“Well thank you… I could say the same to you,” you responded as you began filling the tattoo gun with ink.

“Plus, I think I’ve seen you in here before, you getting your reps in,” he responded and you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing to look up and smile at him for a moment. From this angle, he was looking down at you with his big brown eyes. His broad frame intimidating yet calm.

“Oh yeah? Well, I started a couple months ago. Have you always come to this shop?” You asked nonchalantly even though you hoped and prayed he would be back at some point.

“Yeah, since I started living here so, a couple years now,” he yawned. “Steve’s my guy.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in response as you continued inking up his legs, small grin on your lips. “Not for long.”

You were working your way down and needed to get closer to the side of his inner thigh. As you began to tattoo that spot, you noticed him shift in his seat a bit, gripping onto the chair more now.

“You okay?” You asked him.

“Yeah, yeah, might need a break at some point though,” he stated. “My legs are usually… sensitive.”

You smirked up at him. “Break already?”

“Ha-ha,” he replied teasingly. “It’s not an easy pain.”

“I understand. “You need anything right now?” You asked him, your flirtatious eyes were clear now, and he grinned slowly.

“I’m good, for now,” he replied, scanning your expression. “Thanks.”

You continued your work with a great deal of silence between the two of you. He remained focused on his phone and you remained focused on your piece.

“Steve might kill me for cheating on him…” he stated, breaking the silence after almost a half an hour.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him… for now,” you smirked, looking up at him.

“Well well well, how’d you get the apprentice to convince you to give you a tattoo?” You heard Steve’s voice ask.

“Ahhh what’s good Steve,” Jayson greeted him with a handshake.

“I’m just messing, she’s amazing that Miss. Y/N, but don’t go stealing all my clients now,” he said with a wink before walking off to the back.

Steve had been an incredible mentor and you were grateful for how much he had taught you.

Jayson gave him a friendly smile and it was quiet again between the two of you now as you made progress on his piece.

“So about that penis you tattooed before…” Jayson began and you quickly shot your head up at him at his curiosity.

“What’d they get tattoo on it? He finished.

“You won’t believe this but… they wanted a tiny dick on their dick,” you replied and he laughed.

“What the hell,” he laughed, bringing his palm to his forehead before running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, um-“

“Did it have to be- uh… stiff?” He asked and you couldn’t help but giggle at how curious yet uncomfortable he was.

“ It was on an off,” you replied quickly.

“My god- I’m so sorry,” he said while shaking his head.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. “I still love this job. Everyday is different. And when I get to do meaningful tattoos like this one- it means a lot.”

He smiled at you before licking his lips, eyebrow twitching at the pain of the needle.

You felt your throat dry at the sight as you swallowed before you spoke. “How old is your son?”

“He’s 5 now,” he replied.

“And how old are you?”

“24,” he replied.

“Ahh, me too!” You grinned, mentally slapping yourself for saying that.

“How’d you get to practice?” He asked.

“Lots of drawing… a lot of it.”

“Hmm,” he responded, keeping his eyes locked on the needles going in and out of his skin.

“What about you? What made you so good at basketball?”

“Same thing, practice,” he chuckled. “It was my dream to play since I was a kid.”

“That’s sweet, you should be proud of yourself,” you smiled, continuing to work your magic.

“I am,” he smiled confidently. “Wait- how’d you know that’s what I do?”

“Well um, your height was kind of a dead giveaway. Plus, I don’t live under a rock.”

“Damn,” he chuckled. “Okay miss.”

“Haha my fault, I didn’t mean to come off sassy. Is this your hometown?”

“No, I grew up in Missouri. What about you?”

“I’m from here, yeah,” you replied.

“You like it?” He asked.

The curiosity in his tone made you feel warm inside.

“It’s okay, but I love that with this job I really could go anywhere. So I can’t wait to get out of here.”

He chuckled in response, unable to give a good answer as his face scrunched in discomfort as you dragged the needles through his leg.

“You’re doing great,” you smiled up at him. The slight gleam in his eye increased by your encouragement.

“I’m going to have to get more in between your legs for your inner thigh…are you comfy with that?”

“Yeah that’s okay,” he replied quickly.

He spread his thighs out and you slowly admired his tan and lean long legs through your lashes and the way they looked in your chair. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you tried to regain focus on the tattoo. Yeah his leg was blistering red from the endless stabbing of the needle but he looked incredibly fit. You wondered what his body looked like under that fabric.

“So do you have a boyfriend?” He asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“W-what?” You asked, shutting off the needle to make sure you heard him correctly.

He chuckled nonchalantly, “I said do you have a boyfriend? I mean, it must be kinda tough tattooing other guys the way you said you do and him not being jealous,” he chuckled, scanning the look on your face as you loosened up.

“Oh- haha, right,” you nod. “No, I’m very much single.”

“Oh, I see,” he responded with a nod, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in a thoughtful manner. “Sorry- that was kind of a personal question.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled sweetly. “Do you have a girlfriend? It must be hard for her watching you get all the attention from women,” you smirked to yourself without looking up from the ink, dabbing it and wiping it as you continued.

“No, I’m also very single. Pretty focused on the game right now and taking care of Deuce,” he replied calmly.

“Hmm, I have a hard time believing that,” you chuckled, standing up to stretch your limbs for a moment.

“Why’s that?” He questioned, smirk tugging at his lips and he crossed his arms. His golden skin almost glowing against the hoodie color he wore.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind there’s not a woman in your life right now,” you retort, taking a sip from your water.

You had always suspected that NBA players are exactly that as you’ve seen; players. From long conversations you’ve overheard at the shop of men talking about all the women they dated. He was definitely capping.

“Well, I’ve dated a couple of women, for sure. I’m not a perfect man. There’s women out there who want you for who you are or just want you for your money, a chance at fame. It’s an unfortunate circumstance to be in, especially in my position.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say unfortunate is the right word,” you replied and soon regret it. You don’t know what it’s like to be in his shoes and yet, here you are challenging him.

“Oh you think so?” He smiled playfully. “How would you describe it then?”

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t fully understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but it must suck only being wanted for your money.”

“Yeah, well,” he exhales. “There’s only so much you can do. I can either keep searching or just wait for the right one to come along. When you’re basically defined by your financial status, everything is so different.”

You nod in agreement, unsure on how you got on a topic so deep.

“Well, you’re still young. There’s time,” is all you can say. How far do you push it with a guy you just met but no so much about already?

“Yeah,” he lets out a big sigh. “Not gonna lie I’m feeling a little nauseous.”

“Did you eat?” You giggled.

“Not enough,” he chuckled.

“Let’s take a break then,” you smiled.

•••

Lit lit. I loved this. Still figuring out where I want to go with it but I’m excited for this new beginning 😊😊

[elumish]

Writing a Professional Email

I work in client services, which means that a frankly depressing amount of my job is writing emails, both for myself and for other people. There is an art and a science to writing professional emails.

The subject line

The subject line should be informative enough that somebody scanning through their inbox can tell what the email is about and whether they need to look at it any time soon. Depending on their job, some people get hundreds or thousands of emails a day, and they need to be able to tell at a glance whether an email is important to them.

When emailing someone particularly at another organization with a question, I will often use "Inquiry" or "Question" in the subject line. depending on industry standards, you may also use something like RFI (request for information).

If you want to be clear on why exactly you're sending an email, it is the standard in some industries to start your email with For Action: or For [Reason]: (e.g., For Review:, For Situational Awareness:). I generally only include that in emails staying within my organization, but depending on how well you know whoever you're emailing, you may or may not feel comfortable to do that outside of your organization.

You may not need to be that prescriptive in your email subject lines. if I'm emailing someone about tuition assistance, I might just use the subject "Tuition Assistance."

The salutation

How you address the person sets the tone of the entire email. A lot of this has to do with industry standards and the level of formality you're trying to convey.

At my organization, the explicitly-stated expectation is that you will address everyone, regardless of level, by their first name. If I got an email from someone at my organization referring to me by Ms. [Surname] I would be immediately confused and suspicious.

When emailing agents or addressing them in query letters, it seems like the expectation is often to use their first name--but you should always check, in case they specifically say they want to be referred to in some other way.

When emailing someone with an industry-specific title (professor, doctor, military or law enforcement) it's often your best bet to start with their title. You should make sure you know how to properly abbreviate them, if you do that--the same military rank, for example, is abbreviated differently depending on the service (e.g., Second Lieutenant is abbreviated 2LT, 2ndLt, and 2d Lt).

As you become closer to them, you may start to address them by their first name--but not necessarily.

Also some people/industries prefer "Hi" while others prefer "Dear". if you're really not sure, I've found that defaulting to "Good morning" or "Good afternoon" is often an easy workaround.

The body

Organize the body of the email so the most important information is clear, easy to find, and unambiguous. I frequently use bullets and/or tables in my emails. I also use strategic bolding and underlining, especially for due dates or specific asks.

If you don't know the person or they won't understand why you're the one emailing them about the thing, it can help to introduce yourself. If you're going to do so, keep it short and focus on the key info (e.g., "I am part of x team and am reaching out to you because of y").

If you think your email is too long, it probably is.

The closing

I recommend finding a closing that works for you and stick with it. What I see most commonly are Best, Regards, Best Regards, or Sincerely, but you have a good deal of flexibility here. (I use Regards.)

You should also consider whether to sign off with your first name, full name, or full name + title. I use first name because my signature has my full name.

The signature

Most (all?) email service providers let you set a default signature. My organization has a very prescriptive signature block, so for my work email I just use that.

If you don't have that, I recommend some version of

Full Name Organizational Title Organization

[the-penguinspy]

28. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?” ava x lilith

ty for the prompt, em!! hope i do these two justice :)

//

Ava makes her way up the driveway while juggling the groceries in both arms, swearing as the bulky combo of winter coat, gloves, and heavy grocery bags lead to keys slipping from her grasp and colliding with a dull clink against the welcome mat. She does eventually manage to get in without further incident (zero grocery casualties this time!) and does a big internal fist-pump to celebrate. 

It’s dark inside, and she toes her shoes off and lines them up by the shoe rack as neatly as she can before heading into the kitchen. “Hello? Anyone home?” The bags are deposited on the countertop, Ava letting out a groan of relief as she shakes out her arms.

“Lil?” She flicks the lights on and the living room is washed in a warm glow, illuminating the empty couch and neatly stacked pile of reports left on the coffee table. Beatrice must have already left to drop off Libby for hockey practice. 

The door to the den is shut almost all the way but not firmly closed, and she sees how the light from inside makes its way out. Ah – still working then. The devil works hard, but Lilith on a mission works harder and is way scarier. Way hotter, too. 

Ava knocks on the door softly. A clearing of the throat and a raspy “come in” and she makes her way into the room at the invitation. Lilith’s focused on her laptop screen, papers askew on the desk and occupying every available space, and Ava spies the empty #1 Dad mug precariously close to the edge. Ava’s socks muffle her footsteps on the hardwood floor and she collects the mug before it gets swept off. 

“Hey, babe.” She bends and kisses Lilith on her cheek, Lilith turning her head for a brief peck before focusing once more on the screen in front of her. 

Ava squints at the page count on the screen. “How’s work going?” Lilith lets out a groan immediately, her immaculate posture collapsing as she slouches down in the seat and brings a hand up to rub at her eyes.

“I think I’m done. Goddamned clients keep changing the scope of the project on the fly, leaving me to pick up the pieces on an already-tight deadline.” Lilith’s free hand automatically reaches for her coffee – eyes still trained on the document in front of her – hand grasping at the air a few times before finally looking over and noticing that it’s gone. Her head jerks as she scans the desk for the mug and does a double-take once she notices its relocation to Ava’s hand.

It’s not often that Lilith is caught so off-kilter, and Ava is worried. Sure, Lilith’s used to a hectic work schedule, constant travel, and delicate meetings with clients and colleagues both, and yes she can handle herself well, has been handling it well for years, and Ava knows that Lilith knows her own limits. But Ava also knows that Lilith caught a red-eye the night before and came in early this morning, just barely greeting Ava and Beatrice with a kiss hello and a kiss on Libby’s cheek, one hand already loosening the knot of the tie at her neck before shutting herself into the den for work. 

“–final check before sending it off.” Ava blinks, coming back to the present and seeing Lilith straighten her back to start typing up a new email. Ava’s alarm bells ring all the louder when she witnesses the amount of words underlined in red, the computer’s auto-correct working overtime to bring the page back into grayscale. 

She rests a hand on Lilith’s shoulder and squeezes gently, grimacing as her thumb presses into an obvious knot at the junction where neck meets shoulder, and she mentally notes to give Lilith a back massage later. “Hey, Lil? When’s the last time you slept?” 

“Thirty-five hours ago,” Lilith replies without missing a beat, fingers flying over the keyboard as fast as the mistakes are popping up. Ava feels her eyes widen at that and – what the fuck. Yeah, this isn’t going to fly. She opens her mouth to say something but is beaten to the punch. “Don’t worry,” Lilith reassures, badly, “I took a one-hour nap on the flight home.”

Ava places the mug down on the floor near the wall and brings both hands to Lilith’s shoulders, kneading gently at the tight muscle there. Lilith continues working but eventually her typing slows, shoulders sagging and head hanging low as she sighs and mumbles, “Ava.”

“Yes?” Ava continues with the pressure, and a hiss escapes Lilith as Ava’s thumb presses into a particularly stubborn knot. “I have to get this out by tonight, Ava,” Lilith insists, but her voice sounds strained. The exhaustion finally seeps through her words, carried on the gentle wind of an exhale. 

Ava hums. “What’s on your agenda for tomorrow?” Lilith takes a moment to think, head still bowed. “Not much. Final once-over of my notes for my Monday meetings–” a quiet groan – “and then quality time with the family. But this has to go out by tonight so that the clients can look it over and give me the feedback in case they want to fucking change anything again–”

“Woah, hey, Lil! Let’s slow down for a sec.” Ava drops to a kneel, spins the chair around so that Lilith’s gaze is focused on her and away from the computer. “Your clients probably got off work–” Ava glances at the clock on the desk, winces– “two hours ago. It’s Friday night! They’re probably spending time with their family, or chillin’ by the TV, or going out getting wasted.” She smiles, reaches a hand for Lilith’s and swipes her thumb over Lilith’s knuckles. Lilith’s brows furrow, lips downturned, frown making its presence known. 

“Point is, it’s the weekend. Your colleagues and clients are most likely taking the weekend off to de-stress and focus on themselves. Their work is important and they’ll go back to work on Monday, check their emails and attend their meetings like the good little worker bees that they are–” Lilith chuckles weakly at this– “but until then, you’ve got time to relax.” The bags under Lilith’s eyes are prominent and Ava swallows hard past the lump in her throat. “Please, Lil,” she whispers. Maintains eye contact, brings Lilith’s hands to her lips, kisses the back of each. “For me?”

A slow exhale from Lilith, but the corner of her lips turn up the slightest bit. Ava smiles in response. Score. “You make a compelling argument, Silva,” Lilith says, an unscheduled yawn butting its way in between their conversation. Her hand comes up half a second too late to cover her mouth, exhaustion overriding even muscle memory. Cute, Ava thinks, as she stands and retrieves the mug for washing, placing a lingering kiss on the crown of Lilith’s head. “Go wash up, I’ll have dinner ready in a bit,” she says.

Ava makes to leave but feels Lilith’s arms wrap loosely around her thighs, feels Lilith’s forehead rest against her stomach, and she brings a hand up to the back of Lilith’s head as they hold each other. The pause only lasts a few seconds, but in that amount of time volcanoes could have erupted, tectonic plates could have shifted, galaxies could have collided, but all Ava would have noticed was the feel of Lilith’s soft breaths on her thin cotton t-shirt, the way the fabric fluttered against every shaky draw of breath, against every stuttered exhale. Fingers interlock behind Ava’s thighs to complete the circuit and send across the silent request for company. Difficult for Lilith to voice out loud, to let the words scrape their way out of her throat, but – this type of honesty is alright, too. 

Ava strokes her hand over Lilith's hair and kisses the top of her head once more for good measure. She’s just going to the kitchen, but a parting kiss for her departure nonetheless. For luck, for love, for everything in between. 

They’ll part eventually; two earphones finally untangled through patient fingers. Ava will leave to make the shepherd’s pie that Lilith so loves, and Lilith will come out of the shower, towel wrapped around herself with hair still dripping wet over the floor to kiss Ava in the kitchen, and Ava will laugh and pretend to be annoyed, these potatoes won’t mash themselves, Lil, but she’ll wrap her arms around Lilith’s neck and they’ll kiss for a fair bit before Lilith’s stomach grumbles as a reminder.

But for now, they stay in the moment, leaning against each other. A question and a reassurance in one. 

[ledalasombra]

My not so normal little sister

Chapter 2: Family is much more than blood

“ Time is a funny thing, did you know? The future becomes the present and the present becomes the past. Time is always dynamic…" Ladybug looked at her friend, Bunnix, before replying.

"My presence here is already altering our timeline. The more information I have, the greater the change. We know how dangerous messing with the timeline is...."

"That's true. But I also know that sometimes changes are necessary to keep the universe in balance. It was necessary to bring you here today, because if the league of assassins has access or greater knowledge about the Miraculous, the result is much worse. Take care of yourself, mini Bug." Bunnix smiled slightly seeing her friend walk towards the portal, holding her by the shoulder before she left. "Before you go, keep in mind two things: family doesn't depend on blood and you'll lose a lot if you don't go after yours..." Ladybug looked at her not understanding what she was talking about, frowning slightly, but before she could ask what it was about, Bunnix continued "and remember forgiving is not just good for the other person, but for your happiness as well. When you think all is lost, use these two pieces of advice I'm giving you. This will help you to move forward. You have a life, put your happiness ahead a little.”

Marinette woke up startled, trying to orient herself from where she was. She tightened the sheets with her fingers, letting her breathing return to normal, startled at the sound of her Kwami's voice.

" You need to sleep, Marinette." Said a thin voice lying beside her on the bed. She was going to the hospital the next day and was so nervous that just thinking about it, she couldn't close her eyes.

"Easy to say but difficult to do Tikki." She took a deep breath " I'll check some emails and then I'll try to sleep again. I'm nervous, anxious, tired…"

"I know, but it's going to be alright! Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, I really hope so Tikki. We have no way of knowing really ...." she replied as she scanned the emails, stopping at one where the last name caught her attention. It had been more than three days since Peter had given her the name of the boy who was Janet Drake's son, and after a little investigation by her friend (an investigation she is even afraid to ask how it was done), she discovered that there is a chance that she was changed in the hospital." Tikki, is it just a coincidence that my client has the same surname as the boy who could be my brother?" She asked after a while, looking at the little Kwami in front of her.

"Coincidence or fate? Her soul was chosen to be Ladybug. Luck is with you… you just need to know how to use it." The little kwami smiled "You can only know if you ask, don't you think?"

She thought for a few minutes weighing the pros and cons reading and rereading the email in front of her.

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Absence

Hi, how are you? It is a pleasure to receive your contact email!

Unfortunately, due to health reasons, I will be away for a few weeks and will not be fulfilling/accepting any requests. But don't worry, as soon as everything returns to normal, I'll be contacting you personally and, if there's still interest, I'll be scheduling an appointment.

I hope you stay well!

Sincerely,

MDC

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

From: ceo_timdrake@we.com

To: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

Subject: Re: Absence

MDC,

I hope it's nothing serious and that you can recover as soon as possible. I'm a huge fan of your work and I believe you are one of the best fashion talents of this century.

I look forward to your health improving.

My greetings,

Timothy Drake

----‐----------------------------

Marinette looked at the email again and decided that she needed to at least try. Years ago she stopped trying to understand how the universe worked, accepting the chances that were handed to her. Fate works in different ways. She took a deep breath, sat up comfortably and wrote the guy an email.

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

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Information and doubts (curiosity)

Monsieur Timothy Drake,

How are you? I hope you're well. The reason for my contact is for a personal question, which has nothing to do with my work or yours.

Forgive my total intrusion and indiscretion, but your surname is familiar to me. Are you by any chance the eldest son of Janet Drake? If this is being too rude of me, please disregard this email.

Sincerely,

MDC

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

Tim sighed heavily as he stared at the scream in front of him. He has always considered himself a person with a high intellect with an ability to understand and correlate data very easily. He has always considered himself a great detective, looking at different types of information, analyzing different situations, and despite his constant ability to stay awake for a long period of time, he hardly ever let anything slip out of his knowledge. However, upon receiving an email from his favorite fashion designer, he was surprised and a little intrigued. How did she know his parents? His curiosity got the better of him when he decided to answer the email and try to understand what that strange question was about. He finished the coffee he was currently drinking, checking the time on the computer in front of him. He had a meeting in an hour and his secretary would surely come to let him know. He read the email again before starting to type.

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

From: ceo_timdrake@we.com

To: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

Subject: Re: Information and doubts (curiosity)

Dear MDC,

You can call me Tim since that's what everyone normally calls me.

I am an only child and yes Janet and Jack Drake were my parents. Did you happen to know them? I confess that I was surprised and confused by this question.

Awaiting return.

Regards,

Tim

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

Marinette could barely contain herself in bed, waiting anxiously for an answer. She decided to get up and make some tea, as she was still within the allowed time to eat before being admitted to the hospital. She set out her cup and a soothing tea while she waited for the water to heat up, when she heard the notification of incoming messages in her cell phone. She picked up, seeing the response and opening the email almost immediately. She poured the water into her cup, taking it to her room, already picking up the computer that was open on her email, formulating a response that wasn't confusing and inappropriate.

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

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Re: Re: Information and doubts (curiosity)

Tim,

I believe that before starting any explanation, a proper presentation should be made. My name is Marinette Dupain - Cheng and although I grew up and lived in Paris all my life, I was born in Gotham.

I haven't met them personally, but I have a rather intriguing question. I hope you understand that what I will share with you is confidential and personal, just like my name. I believe that if it were not for the situation currently presented, I would not be disclosing such information. Therefore, I would like nothing disclosed here to be commented on. I'm trying to believe that with the reputation you have in the business, information that was passed by a close friend of mine, and NDA documentation already signed in advance, we don't have a problem with breaches of confidentiality.

On the day of my birth my parents were traveling and they visited Gotham. On the same day, a little earlier, there was an attack by some villain with hostages which apparently led to a large number of people being hospitalized. I don't particularly have details of what happened, but from what I understand, the hospitals were full and our mothers ended up sharing a room while they were in labor. The two gave birth to girls with dark hair and blue eyes, however of the two girls only one survived. For health reasons and some necessary tests, I ended up discovering that my parents are not my biological parents.

A friend from New York and I started an investigation to find out what happened and that's when I came across your parents' names. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit vague, but all the information I have will be sent to you as an attachment. Understand, I don't want anything from you or your family other than wanting to understand what happened over 20 years ago.

If you don't want to get involved with this situation, I understand. It's a bit complicated and I believe that not everyone involved wants or will try to help me solve this case.

I hope you understand my side. The attached documents can be found at the hospital.

Regards

Marinette

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

When Tim decided to reply to the message, he didn't expect that, after a few minutes, he would get an answer. When he heard the incoming message signal and read its entire contents, the young CEO nearly fell out of his chair. He opened the submitted documents and, to be sure, looked at the hospital documentation. It took less than 20 minutes for him to confirm that the documentation she was presenting was genuine. It was all right! He had a sister and no one told him. He must have been five, almost six when she was born, but there is no record of her anywhere in the house. His parents wouldn't hide something so important! Tim took a deep breath, squeezing his temples with his fingertips. Was it too much to ask for a late afternoon without any problems?

"Tam? Could you bring me one coffee? I'm trying to sort out some issues and it would really be nice to have a cup at the moment..." He heard the confirmation on the other end of the line and went back to analyzing the information in the documents he received and decided the best start would be to request a DNA test and, if so, look for the nurse who attended to the two families. He was still in disbelief that his own parents had hidden his sister's birth. Although, who he wanted to fool, he knew Jannet and Jack Drake better than anyone and he knew that yes, his parents would hide information like that.

He spent a few minutes thinking about what to do and the implications of what was said. She must have been switched at the hospital and there's a chance she's his sister. But how? Reluctantly, he looked at the email, rereading it completely, until he resolved to respond.

-----

Marinete was already in his bed, in her apartment, lying down and trying to sleep. She was thoughtful looking at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep! She had so much going on at once that she felt lost. Fate always knows where to direct things. Was that what Alix tried to warn about following her family, what she felt and knowing how to forgive?

"family doesn't depend on blood and you'll lose a lot if you don't go after yours... and remember forgiving is not just good for the other person, but for your happiness as well. When you think all is lost, use these two pieces of advice I'm giving you. This will help you to move forward.”

Marinette stared at the ceiling for a few minutes thinking. She has always considered herself a person with a great ability to understand different situations and assess everyone's side so as not to be unfair. She ran her hands over her face, glancing at the clock on the table beside her bed that read 00:30 in the morning. It had been almost forty minutes since she had sent the last email to the person who could be her brother and she didn't know if she was right to just dump everything to the guy via email. She looked to the side seeing Tikki and Plagg hunched over each other exhaling in frustration until she heard a message beep on her cell phone. She looked at the phone opening the email as soon as she received it.

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

From: ceo_timdrake@we.com

To: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

Subject: doubts

Marinette/MDC

While I'm ecstatic to know who you really are (believe me, I've been crazy about this information for a while) I'm simultaneously shocked and not knowing what to think. I confess that I was not aware that I had a sister, much less that she apparently passed away. I was very young and I don't remember very well what happened at the time.

I will look for the nurse and try to understand in my own way what is happening. I am as lost as you are and I hope we can understand the facts that led to our present. First, I suggest that we do a DNA test to be sure whether or not we are brothers. Please don't take my words and think it's a matter of mistrust. However, I must emphasize that the question itself is very delicate and it would not be prudent to assume something so important as true.

Really, I'm speechless and still trying to understand everything you told me. Technically, I'm the only family member alive and finding out that I might have a sister is shocking to say the least. I hope you understand my side, because after more than twenty years finding out that my parents had another child and I wasn't even aware of the event is a little worrying.

I await your return so we can try to move forward with the situation.

Tim

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

Tim read the email several times before hitting send. He was sure he couldn't take her word for granted, but he also didn't want to sound rude and simply say he distrusted the person who greatly admired the work. He had or had a sister and it didn't get out of his mind. He started doing a general check on the life of the person who could be his only blood family starting through her social media and then would check her entire history. He wasn't considered one of the best detectives in the world for nothing.

After about twenty minutes of looking at social media, Tim can see that Marinette was a very beautiful woman, she undeniably had her mother's features and, in a way, could say that she would pass for her sister very easily because they looked alike. She had friends in a high social circle, studied for a few months in New York, where she has work contacts. She was undeniably a charismatic person and much loved by people who frequented her social networks and had great admiration and respect for her parents. He smiled slightly at the knowledge that she had a different childhood from his.

Taking a deep breath, he slumped against the chair as he ran his hands through his hair. He saw his secretary enter the room to remind him of the meeting he was supposed to go to and that he had no mind at the moment. He got to his feet, turning off the computer, not hearing the signal of new email arriving on his cell. He walked to the room where he would have the last board meeting of the day.

After getting out of yet another one of the many useless meetings he attended, Tim headed straight home. He would thoroughly research the whole thing, starting with the night of his sister's birth. He quickly left his things in his room, heading straight for the cave, where it would be easier to do research. He had about two hours before the whole family showed up.

According to the death certificate, his sister's name was Mary Hellen Drake. Marinette wasn't such a far cry from Mary. He opened the email again to check the documents Marinette had sent when he realized there was an email he hadn't checked. He opened it immediately, checking that there were two documents attached, opening them in the background as he read her response.

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

From: mdc@mdcfashiondesign.com

To: ceo_timdrake@we.com

Subject: Re: doubts

Tim

I understand exactly what you mean and, again, I must stress that I have no interest in taking part in anything concerning your family other than knowing everything that has happened in the past. I have no resentment towards your words. Really, I'm relieved to know that I'm not the only one with misgivings on the subject.

My parents and I took the DNA test in 2 different laboratories, getting the same results in both. I am attaching the results in case you want to contact the laboratories. Trust me, my head is full of all the information. My parents are devastated, not knowing what happened to their biological daughter and worried about how I'm coping. They're trying to pass themselves off as strong, but I know it's hard. The pain in their eyes is visible and I haven't even had the courage to tell them that I started investigating what happened in the past. In short, they don't know about your parents, the nurse, your sister's death certificate or you.

Regardless of how this whole story will develop, I appreciate your attention and patience in the face of this whole issue. As I said in my initial contact email, I am taking a leave of absence due to illness. I'm going to have surgery tomorrow, so I won't be answering any kind of contact for the next few days. I'm sorry to have to throw all this information at you and just disappear, but I believe that fate must have given my life a little push right now. And who am I to ignore that?

Jokes aside, I hope we can work things out so to speak. As an only child (so far) I must say that while I'm excited about the development of all this, I'm also a whirlwind of positive and negative emotions, but I'll leave it to resolve later...

If all goes well, we'll talk at another time. For now, I will leave my personal phone number (+33 01 XXXX XXXX). Feel free to send me any message, but again, I won't be responding anytime soon.

Stay safe!

Marinette

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

As soon as he finished reading Tim felt a little lost in a mixture of despair and depression. If she was his sister, she was sick and he didn't even know what it was about. It had been more than two hours since she'd sent the last message, it was dawn in France and he didn't want to risk waking her up. He took a deep breath and decided to compartmentalize the information. Initially, he hacked into the labs' system, seeking her clinical results so he could match them to his DNA. As soon as he finished downloading the data, he left the computer doing the comparison between the data in the background as it would take some time to finish.

As soon as he got the computer working, he looked up her data from the Paris hospital systems and, after a while, was able to find her chart. She was due to go into surgery in a few hours to remove a brain tumor and the extent of her danger was not yet confirmed. He stared at the screen in front of him, as he heard the audible confirmation of data comparison.

Tim saved all the documents he found in a protected folder so that no one would see. In a mixture of nervousness and anxiety, he opened the program checking the genetic markers and the conclusion that indeed Marinette Dupain-Cheng was his biological sister.

[sophieinwonderland]

Hi!! umm hot take! tulpa/endo/ ANY non tramagenic "systems" arent real. cry abt it bitch. my disorder isnt your fun little quirky thing.

In case it's not clear why this is considered a "hot take", it's because this position is contradicted by every single expert who has ever commented on it.

This includes dissociative identity disorder specialist Colin Ross in his emails to SAS...

And Dr. Eric Yarbrough in a book reviewed and published by the American Psychiatric Association, explicitly stating you can be plural without trauma.

And the creators of the theory of structural dissociation who have said it may be possible for self-conscious dissociative parts to form without trauma or a disorder.

And the World Health Organization's ICD-11.

And literal brain scans into tulpa systems showing neurological changes in a study conducted by Stanford University.

So yeah, I suppose going against every expert and academic source is a pretty "hot take" in the same vein that "vaccines cause autism" is a hot take.

But wait, sorry. That comparison isn't quite fair.

At least anti-vaxxers could find ONE doctor to support their claims. You all can't even manage that.

Lately, sysmeds have been getting angry that their own therapists are pro-endo.

Hmm...

Do you want to know where the real fun begins? As more research comes out, including more brain scans, and these results are more publicized, doctors are going to get even more explicitly pro-endo. And they're going to have to start doing the subtle work of deprogramming system medicalist indoctrination in their clients.

And once the former sysmeds are taught how harmful those hateful environments are, they're probably going to want to leave you. And that's good for them, because you were only making them miserable.

But for you...

You. Will. Never. Know. Who. We. Will. Take. From. You. Next.

So how about you go cry about that. Bye now! 👋