#my supervisor saw me working on this earlier today and asked if i was drawing idols 💀 asdkjgashsahgjsd

[surreal-duck]

good morning!

#duck scribbles #enstars #ra*bits #hajime shino #nazuna nito #tomoya mashiro #mitsuru tenma #ensemble stars #hey did you guys know ra*bits is my 2nd fav unit actually i dont draw them nearly enough #started this wip when the event was announced in january and never finished it til now wkjwhhkjsdghjkg ignore the messier lines here #thought i should finish it soon before i start disliking how it looks at the very least. i think i still like how it turned out #but man if rendering isnt a pain in the ass!! augh #my supervisor saw me working on this earlier today and asked if i was drawing idols 💀 asdkjgashsahgjsd #anyways. live laugh love ra*bits u and ur healing discography are my entire world

[gunterfan1992]

Andres Salaff Interview

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure to e-interview Andres Salaff, and I’d like to share that interview with you today! Andres worked on Adventure Time as one of the supervising directors from seasons 6–8, and he has also worked on shows like Regular Show, Big Mouth, Uncle Grandpa, and Close Enough! Read on for fascinating info about how Andres got his start in the biz, what his duties as director were, and what inspired Flame P and Neptr’s rap in “The Music Hole”:

What is your ‘artistic origin story’? And how did you come to work on Adventure Time?

Andres Salaff: I was living in Ohio and drawing mini comics for fun. While visiting California, someone saw them and told me about Calarts Character Animation. I visited the school and looked at the student's work. I knew instantly that it was what I wanted to pursue. I love it because it encompasses a lot of my interests. Drawing, acting, writing and storytelling. After graduating from Calarts, I was hired as a storyboard artist on Regular Show and after three years of doing that, I was asked to direct on AT.

As a supervising director, what were your many duties? Was it largely coordination, or were you drawing/boarding alongside the board artists, too?

AS: [The job was mostly about] weigh[ing] in on storyboard pitches and voice records. But mainly, my job was at the storyboard animatic stage. To make sure that everything was working at that stage of the process and to make sure, along with the art director, timers and designers that all of the necessary information was there for the overseas animation studio. It was very collaborative in that I got to work with the different supervisors in seeing it through the pre production phase up until it got shipped overseas.

What was the energy of the crew like?

AS: [There were] a lot of thinkers on the crew. At times even reserved, but their wit would always come out and surprise me.

Did you do much coordinating with the South Korean studios with regard to the animation? Or was that someone else’s job?

AS: My work was to provide the information necessary to ship. Once it came back, I didn't have a hand in it. Once or twice I did, but that was when Adam Muto, the EP, was on a hiatus.

One thing I'm interested in is the production of the show's miniseries. How did production differ from the 'norm' when it came time to do Stakes?

AS: Stakes was so fun to work on. There wasn't much of a difference on my end from the regular season other than helping to keep an eye on the overarching story and making sure things were tracking. It was so cool seeing the different parts being pitched and coming together. All of the boarders had such a unique voice and style, yet when assembled they somehow blended seamlessly.

One of my favorite episodes has to be "The Music Hole.” How did you come to work on that episode?

AS: Adam Muto had seen a pilot that I had done at the studio called Ridin' With Burgess. There is a lot of rapping in it. He must've liked it because he asked me to board on The Music Hole. The episode centered around a music festival and Flame Princess and Neptr had a rap group.

In a separate interview, Polly Guo waxed poetic about the rap you wrote, so I was wondering if you could speak about where those ideas came from?

AS: As a kid growing up in Ohio, I used to attend a yearly festival called Scribble Jam. I tried to make FP and Neptr's song/ performance as close to that as I could remember. It was really fun to work on that episode and to collaborate with Polly Guo!

A huge thanks to Andres for answering my questions! As always, here are some useful links:

Andres’s personal website: https://andressalaff.com/

Andres’s Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mr_dres/

The Greatest Song Ever: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIILKyCUbLA

#Adventure Time #atimers #Andres Salaff #interview #neptr #flame princess #calarts #polly guo #Scribble Jam #Ohio is for artists

[alwaysmychoices]

Hi! Me again! I don’t know if you’ve done this or not or something that might interest you. But HC with Ethan and MC meeting like Derek and Meredith, sleeping together before knowing they work together?

I really enjoyed this one! A. I got to do “research” by rewatching Grey’s. B. I loved the way this turned out. If this becomes it’s own fic, don’t be surprised. 

Ethan & f!MC - Meeting Before Knowing They Worked Together 

When MC walked into Donahue’s on the eve of her first day at Edenbrook, she was determined to have one last night where she wasn’t an incoming resident or a future diagnostician or anything other than a girl at a bar.

Maybe she should have known that a bar that close to a hospital would attract its employees.

But really, when she saw Ethan, she wasn’t thinking.

He was just a handsome man sitting alone at a bar, and she was just a girl.

Neither of them meant to go home together that night. If anything, they felt like they were trapped in some magnetic pull.

They had to talk. Ethan had to buy her a drink, and MC had to move closer. A few hours later, when Ethan called himself a cab, it was a foregone conclusion that MC would be in the backseat next to him.

That night was amazing.

The morning, however…

MC woke up hungover to Ethan’s morning alarm. The 45-second gap between MC waking and Ethan turning off the alarm was as close to hell as MC ever wanted to be.

“Why is it so loud?” she grumbled, covering her eyes with her arm.

“It’s an alarm.”

“Right.”

…

“What time is it?”

“6.”

“What?”

MC scrambled for her phone and emitted a panicked groan that made Ethan do a double-take. Jolted awake with anxiety, MC got out of bed and fumbled for her clothes, which lined Ethan’s floor haphazardly.  

He watched with bemused confusion.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying not to smirk as she mumbled a thousand curses under her breath as she tried to button her jeans.

“I’m going to be late.”

“For?”

“My first day.”

“At?”

“My job.”

Ethan was both amused and frustrated with her insistence on remaining vague. She didn’t seem particularly interested in talking to him, or in him at all this morning. That should have been a blessing. He never liked the awkward, post-sex small talk or the polite feigned interest in each other’s life.

Maybe he was so interested in MC because she wasn’t interested in him.

Either way, he asked her name. She didn’t seem to be offended that he forgot, and a moment later, she admitted that she didn’t know his either.

Ethan asked if she wanted coffee. Nearly tripping as she buckled her wedges, MC said she didn’t have time. He asked for a raincheck.

MC paused, debating how to answer. She didn’t walk into that bar to find someone, nor did she move to Boston with the intention of dating anyone. She didn’t have time for coffee dates, no matter how handsome this stranger was.

But instead of letting him down gently, she walked to his bedside table where he kept a pen and paper for late-night epiphanies. She scribbled her name and number on the top sheet.

And then she had to go.

Ethan called out a goodbye, and though she didn’t return it, she smiled softly in the elevator.

The next hour or so was chaos. MC’s ride back to her apartment was slowed by morning traffic, so running out of time, MC ran upstairs, changed, grabbed what she needed, and ran back downstairs in a panic. 10 minutes into her commute, she realized her phone was dead, and she blindly navigated her new city.

Considering everything, it was a miracle she was only 5 minutes late.

But she was still late.

MC moved through orientation feeling like she was always a step behind because she was late. She made a few friends, all of whom assured her that she hadn’t missed much, but one maintained a sly, condescending smile as if he’d somehow won today’s game by being earlier than her.

She was so focused on making up for lost time that she didn’t notice her familiar coworker until it was too late.

They were in the halls when their paths first crossed.

Ethan saw her first. At first, it was just a quick glance, but when he realized who she was, he stopped dead in his tracks.

MC, coffee in one hand and a chart in the other, kept walking and only offered a cursory glance of intrigue when she saw someone stop in the halls.

She nearly dropped her coffee in shock.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

And then they stared at each other’s IDs.

MC felt nauseous when she read his name. Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Her hero. Her boss.

She had sex with her boss.

And Ethan had sex with an intern!

Ethan opened his mouth to say something – though God knows, he didn’t know what he was going to say – but didn’t get the opportunity. Panicked, MC just walked away.

The rest of the day, she felt like she was in a daze.

What had she been thinking? She should have never gone out last night at all.

Two hours later, they ran into each other again – this time, in a lonely elevator with no immediate exit. They were trapped.

MC spoke first.

“So, you’re… you’re Dr. Ramsey then.”

“I am.”

“Right…” MC evaded eye contact, “I read your book.”

Ethan cringed, “Oh.”

After a beat, he asked, “So, what are you? Surgery? Pediatrics?”

“Diagnostics.”

“Oh.”

Realizing that Ethan was MC’s direct supervisor, they agreed to pretend nothing ever happened. As soon as they exited this elevator, they would never speak of it again. They shared an awkward handshake just before the doors opened.

They fully intended to stay apart, but they kept running into each other.

MC quickly established herself as a promising if flawed doctor. Ethan was intrigued by her potential. After days of deliberation, he decided it would be unfair to refrain from mentoring her just because they made one mistake.

He told himself it was pure professional interest, but if that were true, he wouldn’t have kept her number all this time.

Ethan was hard on MC. His criticisms became so frequent they felt like abuse. He expected a lot from her – more than he expected from any other intern, save for Aurora. She responded to the criticism with improved performance, and Ethan saw no reason to let up now.

She couldn’t reach her potential if she was afraid to grow.

He kept his compliments and growing respect mostly to himself. He worried that, given their past, sharing them would appear inappropriate.

So, as Ethan grew attached to MC, she brewed in dislike.

The differential treatment was obvious. While Ethan flattered himself that he was pushing her to greatness, she just felt pushed and underappreciated. Her success was only met with more challenges. She was exhausted, and she blamed Ethan.

And Ethan had the misfortune of sitting next to her at Donahue’s the night she reached her limit.

He asked if she wanted a drink. She answered with the kind of glare that could slit throats.

Ethan’s reasoning was clouded with MC. Though he recognized her annoyance and knew to leave, he didn’t. He ordered his drink and remained next to her as she fumed.

After 10 minutes of silence, MC finished her third beer and asked, “Why are you such a dick?”

Ethan choked on his drink.

“If you’re just punishing me because of that night, that’s not appropriate. I’m a doctor, not just the girl from a bar you slept with.”

“I am not punishing you, and if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be for that reason.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in her system. Maybe it was months of resentment. Or maybe it was because, no matter what he did, he was still the handsome stranger at a bar. The magnetic draw they found in Donahue’s never waned. She still wanted him to pick up her number and schedule that coffee date.

Whatever it was, MC let him have it.

They ended up in an alley, yelling at each other like the rest of the world couldn’t hear them. Under the cover of false anonymity, they released so much frustration that their voices reached screams.

And then…

Well, they later blamed the passion of the moment.

But, once they had released all of their frustrations, one lingered. They resented staying apart.

So, that night, they didn’t.

In the middle of a screaming match where MC aimed a long stream of expletives at him,  Ethan kissed her. And then MC kissed him. And then they were in a cab, and they were back in his apartment. And… and it started all over.

And the worst part was that they each had a sobering moment where they realized what they were doing, and they did it anyway.

In the morning, they had the same conversation they had in the elevator. This was an unprofessional, irresponsible mistake, and it wouldn’t happen again.

But it did.

And at some point, they realized they were no longer thrown together in the rush of adrenaline and frustration. They were together on the good days and in the smiling moments.

A thousand small decisions tied them to one another.

MC wasn’t just a girl in a bar.

She never had been.

tag list: if you want to join the tag list/be taken off (or excluded from certain posts), let me know! 

@schnitzelbutterfingers @curiousconch @starrystarrytrouble @jessirosebud @lucy-268 @aestheticartsx @eramsey28 @macy-ray85 @octobereighth @queencarb @claredal424 @mercury84choices @drariellevalentine @wonderwithrobin @honeyandsunfl0wers @iemcpbchoices @queenbirbs @stateofgracious @kalogh @paulfwesley @canigetanawwjunk @blossomanarchy @lion-ess24 @hopefulmoonobject @caroldxnvxrs @senseofduties @chasingrobbie  @rookieoh @delaytheinevitable

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #choices #headcanon #hc

[lokidrabbles]

Stop, And Think of Me (Loki x Reader)

After an incident at work, Loki provides reader with his own comforting methods

A/N: Another quick oneshot dealing with some work related stress, Loki fluff and smut. Again, thank you all for the follows and likes on my little stories :) As always, Gender Neutral Reader!

Warnings: Implied smut, lewd imagery, but fluff n’ stuff too!

A worker, the one Maria Hill, who still held some ambivalence towards Loki, was the one to inform him of what had happened earlier that day and why you had been dismissed.

The details of the situation were scattered. Your workplace at the facility had provided you with a sudden wave of paperwork, meetings, drills and overtime needed after another inter dimensional threat was discovered. Luckily no catastrophic worldwide panic was caused, as the Avengers meticulously took care of business. Through the midst of it all, there was some ongoing entanglement between the lower departments of the facility, with certain protocols having gone ignored and undetected by supervisors and authority figures. Whatever, or whoever had majorly fucked up, had decided to use you as a scapegoat to evade any type of consequences, throwing you in as the ‘newbie’ who had gone over everyone.

Loki admired your ability to defend yourself well with your own ability of verbal intervention, using your sharp tongue as weapon against anyone wronging you or him. You were quick witted, confident, and unafraid to speak your mind towards anyone. Whatever fool had wanted to try at you in this way wouldn’t have gotten the chance to defend themselves.

Never did he actually expect you to have utilized you own physical strength to justly give this person a broken nose.

Hill described the brawl being very brief as security was immediately called in to break you up. Luckily, no charges were pressed and Mr. Stark took the situation casually, finding it normal for seeming coworkers to punch the crap out of each other in this line of work. A good way to say no one was fired.

You were promptly sent home to ‘think about your actions’, but most importantly to cool off as you had become quite shaken up. Normally a situation like this wouldn’t have warranted his attention as it seemed things worked out on their own. You were an adult, who was more than capable of taking care of themselves, and probably wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon in privacy.

Despite these thoughts, Loki knew he’d find you in your home, and a certain obligation tugged at him endlessly. After all, what type of man would he be if he didn’t?

He would soon make way to your home (entering with complete disregard), and would find you shriveled up in your bed. From your dampened hair, he figured you had taken a much needed, life altering bath. The pressure of it all must have been to much for you to bear. Loki had noted how your gaze became hollowed, barely looking up to see him enter your bedroom.

“I guess you heard about my little episode.” You said flatly.

“Indeed. I have to admit, I’m quite impressed at the damage you left behind. Remind me to never get on your bad side.” He said while sitting at the edge of your bed.

You groaned, turning around for your back to face him. “What was I thinking? I totally lost myself back there.”

Loki inched up closer to you, beginning to meticulously straighten out your wet locks of hair. “You were defending yourself, were you not? I know you to be a level headed individual most of the time. I’d take it this person really hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, they were totally out of line! Calling me out in front of our department supervisor and calling me a ‘newbie’. Dickhead.”

“Oh, how I much I would have loved to see your pretty little knuckles land on this fool’s face.” He said teasingly, while still threading his fingers through your hair.

“It was totally awesome, don’t get me wrong. But I still feel like garbage.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He felt your chest rise with a deep inhale, and slowly fall down as you released. “Because, I shouldn’t have done that. I lost control over my temper again. I mean, it’s been a while but I didn’t think it would go like this.”

He noticed how your voice became smaller. This was something more than having an altercation with a coworker. This was something much more internalized, and Loki had come to know and understand your telltale signs very closely. You’d turn away, avoiding to see him in the eyes. You’d begin to take in deep inhales to control your breath. And your voice would begin to crack as the discomforting lump in your throat began to rise.

Loki wasn’t alien to comfort. In his childhood, Frigga would be his stone and the bearer of his doubts and worries. There were still times where Loki would remind himself of her sweet aroma and soft hair, caressing him dearly with intent and love. The memories of the late queen would forever linger with him, perhaps as a lesson for whoever would capture the Asgardian’s fondness.

A sniffle broke his thought process, and soon he saw how your body wracked with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

There was instinct which rose within Loki, a mixture of fury, protection, hesitation and warranted worry. His first flashing thought was to find the person responsible for causing you this pain, and swiftly burying a sharp object into their neck, but due to ‘certain restrictions,’ this would only make things much more difficult. Instead, he would provide you with what you needed at the moment.

“(Y/N),” He began, speaking carefully. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told, and you turned around to come face to face with the dark haired prince. Giant droplets dripped downwards, falling almost beautifully at the edge of your jaw. Uncontrollable sobs made it difficult for you to breath and articulate any type of explanation to him. Loki didn’t need you to explain however, as he knew exactly the conflict going within you. Loki understood sadness and shame very well. And perhaps, these were the most human emotions to use in efforts to connect to you.

He cradled your head justly into the crook of his neck, unbothered by the wetness coming from your face and nose. His arm cradled around your shoulders, holding you tightly and secure against his chest, close enough for you to feel the heavy beating in his chest. He encouraged you to drape your legs over his lap to support your whole weight onto him, as well as leading your arm around his shoulder. Your shudders continued, and he allowed you to experience everything within his embrace. He tenderly kissed your temple, murmuring sweet nothings and words of protection until your sobs stabilized.

“I don’t like seeing you this way.” He whispered into your ear, as if it would be only confessed to you.

“I'm sorry.” You said in between trembling lips.

“Stupid human. Don’t apologize for being upset.” He snarled.

“Ugh.” You let out an unappealing groan. “I c-can’t go back like this.”

“You won’t, because you will only show your vulnerability with me. Understand?”

He meant it. It made him physically uncomfortable to see you in this state, however it also sickened him to the core at the possibility of someone else wrapping their arms around you and allowing you to pour your tears onto them. For you, to have to resort to someone unworthy to bring you contentment? Unthinkable. As far as he knew, Loki was the only one who would witness this, and the only one who would provide you with the tenderness and care you needed. 

“This individual was fortunate enough to only obtain a bloody nose from you.” He continued. “I’m sure I would be back in handcuffs and some type of cell if I was there.”

“Hmm?”

“I would have murdered them.”

You chuckled in between sniffles, and Loki could only imagine a small smile forming over your cheeks. “That’s horrible to say.” “Perhaps.”

You shifted within his embrace, just enough for your tear stained face to come close to his own. Loki felt your lips softly brush past his, and then return for a much needed kiss. He felt your small hand push the back of his head deeper into your taste, to which he eagerly reciprocated. You coaxed him to lay over you, and soon he would lean forward into you, pushing you softly onto your bed. You wrapped your arms justly around his neck as moans of contentment escaped the corners of your mouth. He returned these with his own guttural groans, taking in the sweet nectar of your mouth. He felt the heat rise in your face and his mind began to cloud with lewd details of his drippings all over your bare body. Indeed, no other individual would be able to bring this level of pleasure to you, or even begin to comprehend just exactly what your body needed. Only he was capable of such comprehension, and only his fingers, hands, lips and body were good enough to draw out the poison in you and replace with pure ecstasy and reverence.

He broke the kiss temporarily, catching his breath. He gazed at your glassy eyes, full of desire, and practically begging him to resume exploring your mouth.

“Feeling better, are we?” He asked with a satisfied smirk.

You nodded slowly, licking your lips over his remaining spit.

“Do you wish for me to continue? You know once I begin, I won’t stop.” He said, as if warning you for what was about to come.

“I know.” You responded self-assuredly. He loved it, your willingness to completely be pleased by his own doing and allowing whatever carnal desire he held back to be released onto you.

“Little human.” He began, trailing kisses from your salty cheek, and then all the way down your neck. “You will forget about all your troubles from today. I will fuck you endlessly, because you deserve a good fucking.”

“Loki, I-” You began, but he interjected immediately.

“No. Listen to me well. There will be no more hesitation with any of that. All I want to hear from you are those obscene sounds coming from your lips as I bury myself deep in you. Do you understand?”

“You’re gorgeous.” You said in a breathy manner.

Loki took you for the remainder of the day, lovingly and longingly. Your two bodies would join each other, sharing each other’s heat and sweat, providing you with the necessary distraction from your own turbulence, and providing Loki with a self-fulfilling deposition. You were his and no other man or woman could even possibly come close.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x (y/n) #loki x you #loki pov #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki drabbles #loki drabble #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

Could we perhaps get a part 2 to the Marya and Helene running away fic?!

YOU WANTED A PART 2?!?! I GIVE YOU A PART 2!!! SORRY FOR THE WAIT BUT HERE IT IS!!! <3

Part 1 here

Vanya Vorobev trudged her way through inches of snow after a long day at work, boots heaving to free themselves from the ground that trapped them. Snow coated her short locks of red hair that pooled at her shoulders unceremoniously in a mess of tangles and knots. How dreadful the winters could be. It was no different than what she had had in Moscow and her dislike for these horrid days only grew. If work had ended any earlier, she would have beat the stir of the oncoming blizzard but here she was battling her way through with the residue of her strength. A full day’s sewing garments had drained her but there was something that kept her going. Or to be more precise, someone. Someone at home waiting to welcome her with open arms and preferably a cup of hot tea laced with rum to shake the cold away.

The walk to work was never an issue for the morning weather was always pleasant but it was always unkind during the evening. Work was even more unpleasant for her supervisor would never allow her colleagues and herself off early. The weather was no excuse to dismiss everyone early as they had deadlines to meet and quotas to fulfil, both which Vanya despised with all her being. She had filed complaints before to her higher ups but was met with harsh laughs and mockery for being so bold. They would jest at her for being a woman then threaten her with their class and gender. God, how she despised those pesky imbeciles and their horrid perverted words. She always gave in and she hated it. If only they knew the power she possessed. What she once had before this life but she had left all that behind for this one and she did not regret it for a moment.

Amidst the blizzard, her eyes were squinted to see through the haze of white, a hand raised to shield the snowflakes that might obscure her vision. Aggressively, she stormed through the building blanket of snow at her feet, unbothered by the way the cold seeped into her boots. Warmth awaited her as a reward for her efforts and a little water never hurt. Eventually, she defeated the storm. She collided against the gate of her home with a soft grunt then yanked it open after fumbling about with the lock. As she stepped into her garden, the gate slammed shut behind her with a very unsatisfying thud and that was when the door of her home swung open. She bolted towards the entrance and was greeted by a graceful breeze of warm air blowing in her face, accompanied by the scent of soup and fresh bread.

The door closed and Vanya was engulfed in a warm embrace. A face pressed against her back, arms wrapped around her waist in a firm hold and a light giggle filled the air. Sighing softly, Vanya leaned into the arms of her lover… her wife, to be more precise… and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder at the head of curls in her line of vision. Roza Sorokina Vorobev. Or, Hélène Vasilyevna Akhrosimova, as we all know. Vanya Marya turned around and pulled Hélène into her arms, burying her face in her hair to take her all in. Hélène moved her hands to hold Marya’s cheeks within her hands, lifting her head to kiss her gently on the lips which Marya happily returned. They had been deprived of affection for too long. Yes, in their terms, a day was long. The kiss lasted for a while then it was followed by another and then another one until Hélène pulled away to speak.

“How was your day at work?” Hélène murmured as she removed Marya’s bonnet, tossing it onto the couch lazily.

“Awful as always. Today could have been worse but thank heavens for my colleagues. My supervisor insisted that we worked until the wind died down but we demanded that we returned home since we weren’t getting paid for overtime,” Marya told her with a scoff.

“What did your colleagues do that saved your day?” Hélène inquired, taking Marya’s coat to hang it up on the coat rack.

“They had my back,” Marya simply answered.

Raising a brow, Hélène’s gaze followed the woman as she walked to the kitchen to help with dinner that was still cooking. “Okay. What did you do?”

“I raised my voice.” Marya shot Hélène a smirk and it earned her a small round of an applause.

“How terrifying~ Oh, you’re truly my feisty dragon!” Hélène exclaimed.

Marya picked up a spoon, stirring it in the air dramatically. “If there’s anything I’ve kept from my previous life, it’s that name,”

“I’m not complaining. I adore it.”

“Keep it in your pants, Kuragina.”

Hélène hugged Marya from behind and kissed the back of her neck. “It’s actually Akhrosimova now~”

“Oh?” Marya smirked lightly. “How cute.”

“You’re not supposed to praise your own name.”

“I was praising you, stupid.”

“Ah. Thank you~ I appreciate it very much.”

“You had better.”

Marya abandoned dinner just for a moment to attend to her wife, drawing her into her arms to press a kiss to her lips. She ran her hands through Hélène’s curls and rested her forehead against hers gently. Hélène hummed softly against Marya’s lips and cupped her cheeks delicately. Before they could lean in for another kiss, a voice cried out. A loud shrill sob filled the house and Marya pulled away from Hélène to look towards the corridor where the cry had come from. Hélène acted quickly. After a kiss to Marya’s cheek, she dashed down the corridor and entered a room that appeared to be where the wailing came from. It went quiet, save for the occasional sniffles and reassuring whispers, and Hélène came out of the room carrying a little girl who was no more than the age of 3. Their little girl.

Her cheeks were stained with tears pouring down, eyes red rimmed from crying too hard and her little fists clutched Hélène’s blouse tightly. When the little one saw Marya, her face lit up and she held her arms out to her with grabby hands, finger wriggling insistently for Marya to pick her up. Children were funny little beings. Their moods could switch within a matter of minutes and Marya was not one to complain for she found it very easy to figure her way around the ways of parenting. The girl squealed in excitement as Marya plucked her from Hélène’s arms and she buried her face against the woman’s neck where she was perfectly comfortable. Hélène stood beside Marya, a hand on their daughter’s back to trace circles in a comforting manner, and she smiled at her wife.

Etoile Kuragina Akhrosimova. That was her name of their little one. She was not their biological daughter but they loved her as their very own. They had adopted her on the day she was born. Prior to her date of birth, a co-worker had confided in Marya about an unplanned pregnancy which peaked Marya’s interests. All it took was a question, one that changed her to love not only as a wife but as a mother. This colleague of hers trusted Marya with the birth of a new life and she had never been more honored to have the privilege of raising a child of her own with the woman that she loved. This was God’s greatest gift to them, a sign that he had given his blessing and Marya, until this day, was eternally grateful. She prayed to God every night, thanking him for all that he has given them and praising his generosity. There was nothing more in the world that she wanted.

“She’s been asking for you all day and when the blizzard came, she thought you were never coming back,” Hélène stated quietly, a solemn look settling upon her features.

“Oh… Poor dear. Please don’t tell me she’s been crying all day.” Marya looked at Etoile who was beaming up at her, her wet cheeks dried from rubbing her face against her mother’s shoulder.

“She didn’t, and thank goodness for that… She started crying when you did not show up on time. Sat in that very spot”- Hélène motioned vaguely to the sitting room- “and stared at the clock for hours.”

Etoile held up two fingers. “You said 4… You came back at 8.”

“I’m so sorry, Etoile. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Marya cooed softly then kissed the little girl’s cheek.

“Promise?” Etoile lifted her pinkie finger which Marya hooked her own pinkie around with a smile.

“I promise.”

Etoile was more than pleased. She hugged Marya tightly and nuzzled against her neck, tucking her head in between the crook of her shoulder and neck. Hélène giggled softly and wrapped her arms around the both of them, her little family. Every day was just perfect among the three of them; though, they did yearn the company of their families back in Moscow, the place that was once their home. Marya missed her goddaughters as well as her old friend, Pierre. She wrote to them as frequently as she could but with how letters were being tracked, it would risk revealing their location to those who were searching for them so her stuck to a quota of two letter per month; three in case of emergencies or festivities.

It had already been two months since Marya sent her letters to her dear family but it was not forgetfulness that created the hiatus. It was the incredibly patient wait both her and Hélène had to endure as well as the receiving end of the letter which consisted of Pierre and Natasha who branched out to Sonya and Mary. Hélène’s receiving end consisted of her brother, Anatole, whose letters also were addressed to Dolokhov. Waiting was never a simple task, unless one were disciplined like Marya or as easily entertained as Etoile. Hélène was terrible at passing time and two months had felt like an entire year to her. On the bright side of things, she did not have to wait any longer.

A knock echoed through the house and it was followed by a drumming of fists that were much gentler than the former. The door rattled with every knock, especially with the overly-enthusiastic rhythm and Marya feared that the door might cave in soon. Hélène went to answer the door hurriedly for she did not want their guests standing in the middle of a snowfall for too long, Etoile waddling closely behind her after Marya had settled her down to lay out the table. When the door swung open, Hélène was greeted by a pair of arms flinging over her shoulders which pulled her into the tightest but warmest hug she had ever received in a long time.

“Vanya! It’s so good to see you again!” Natasha exclaimed but she paused her excitement. “Wait… Or is it Roza?”

“It’s Roza, ma charmante.” Hélène leaned in to whisper into the young girl’s ear. “But it’s exclusively Hélène for the lot of you~”

Natasha beamed and squeezed Hélène tighter in the hug. “It’s been so long!”

“It has! Your godmother and I are so happy to have you here.” Hélène noticed the way Pierre shuffled awkwardly beside Natasha and she pulled away from Natasha to greet him with a hug. Baffled, Pierre wrapped his arms around her and patted her shoulder. “Hello, Pierre. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Elena. Hélène… Uh- Roza,” Pierre stammered but he was smiling in amusement. “I apologize. You have quite a number of names and you didn’t specify which to use in any letters.”

“Hélène will do, my dear. I see you haven’t changed at all,” Hélène jested as she nudged him gently in the side with her knuckle.

“And neither have you,” Pierre jabbed back. His eyes widened at the sight of Etoile clinging onto her mother’s skirts, head peeking out from where she stood behind Hélène and he knelt down. “Is this little Etoile?”

Natasha gasped, a hand flying to her lips. “Oh, she’s gorgeous. Hi there.”

Etoile’s eyes twinkled in curiosity and pure joy to see the people that Hélène had shown her before in photographs. It was as if her picture books had come to life. She waved at Natasha then approached her slowly. These people in front of here were her own relatives she was meeting, other people who she could consider her family aside from her mothers. Leaping with joy, she buried herself against Natasha in what was supposed to be a hug and she stayed in Natasha’s fur coat for a while. Her fists clutched the furs and Natasha picked her up with a light giggle. Pierre watched them fondly and he placed a fairly large hand on Etoile’s back, rubbing circles in a familiar and comforting manner.

“She’s an angel,” Natasha swooned as she leaned into Pierre who kissed her forehead.

“She gets that from her mother,” Hélène said as she motioned to the kitchen where Marya came rushing out.

“Natasha, darling! How wonderful it is to see you! And Pierre, old friend, you’re looking well!” Marya cheered as she drew the two of them into a welcoming hug.

Pierre grinned at the sight of his dear friend. “Marya, it’s good to see you”- He was startled when Natasha interjected.

“Marya! Where have you been? It’s rude to be late. You taught me that lesson yourself,” Natasha scolded her godmother mockingly.

“I know I did but truth be told, I just got back home a while ago and I had dinner to prepare. Please excuse this minor inconvenience. I promise, it won’t happen again,” Marya swore.

“It better not. Now come give your favorite goddaughter a hug!” Natasha bounced into Marya’s outstretched arms and Etoile was sandwiched comfortably between the two ladies before Natasha passed the little one to her mother.

“Sit down at the dining table, my dears. Food is ready. We can’t have it going cold,” Marya insisted as she ushered her guests to the kitchen. “Hélène, dear, could you close the door?”

Hélène complied and skipped to the door to shut it as she was told but stopped when she saw four figures in the snow making their way to the door. Two men clumsily kicking through the snow and two women walking like completely normal humans with their arms linked. One of them, the tallest male of the lot, was mocking one of the ladies for her height and this small lady happened to be the smallest of the group. From what Hélène could see, she had quite a feisty attitude and very quick retaliation. As this tall figure ruffled the shorter figure’s hair, the shorter one struck, the back of her hand whipping the taller’s side swiftly and it elicited a loud high-pitched whine that Hélène knew all too well.

“Told you to stop bullying her,” Dolokhov laughed as he hit the taller man’s head.

“It’s not my fault that she can’t take a joke.” Anatole rubbed the back of his neck, scoffing at his companion before side-eyeing Sonya who was glaring daggers at him.

“Can we please be civil?” one of the girls squeaked out meekly, specifically Mary Bolkonsky who was clinging onto Sonya’s arm for dear life. “Marya won’t appreciate this behavior.”

“I doubt she’d appreciate anything we do,” Dolokhov added.

“Would you guys rather argue in the snow or come inside?” Hélène called out to the group which caught their attention and Anatole gasped.

“Sister! Oh, dear god, it is so good to see you alive and well,” Anatole cheered as he abandoned Dolokhov’s side to race up to his sister, swooping her in his arms for a big bear hug. “How are you?”

Hélène squeezed her younger brother with love as she leaned into the hug. “I’m fantastic! I’m glad to see you! Fedya, Sonya, Mary. Welcome!”

“All attention on me, please?” Anatole requestion politely and Hélène pinched his cheek.

“You always were a joker. Come in, otherwise I might get a scolding from Marya for leaving the door open for too long.” Hélène moved out of the way, allowing the group to come in.

“And now for my turn!” Dolokhov declared and embraced his friend, one hand tossing his coat right onto the rack with precision (finally living up to his name of being a crazy good shot).

Hélène could have sworn she heard Dolokhov sniffle but crying would be quite uncharacteristic of him. No matter the circumstances, Fedya Dolokhov never cried. The winter wind might have caught him with a cold which was not very good. Hélène did not want anyone to return to Moscow with a burning fever. That would mean that they failed to be hospitable. But once more, crying and falling ill were not words in the vocabular of Dolokhov. If either of that happened in one day, then something must be wrong. For all Hélène knew, she could be in another universe but that was irrelevant. Why fret now?

“My dear Feddy. How have you been?” Hélène purred.

“Never better. Has Marya been taking care of you?” Dolokhov asked as he threw a look over Hélène’s shoulder.

“That is your biggest concern? Of course, she has! She pampers me a lot,” Hélène answered dreamily.

“Good! I actually wrote her a letter asking if she was and she only responded with “Dear Fyodor, we are fine. Stop wasting parchment paper, yours truly, Marya D,” Dolokhov storied.

Hélène snorted and laughed. “Ah- I’m aware of that. She wasn’t very pleased by your doubts in her.”

“I’m just concerned!” Dolokhov debated and scowled.

“I know you are. Now, stop sulking and make yourself at home. You’ve received your attention. I have other guests to attend to.”

“Yes, ma’am~”

Dolokhov skipped off with a hum as Hélène watched in amusement, shaking her head lightly. As for the two very similarly quaint and bashful ladies, Hélène also gave them a hug. They were not close but they appreciated affection as a warm welcome, metaphorically and physically, after bickering in the snow and troika ride for too long. Marya, despite her well-known dislike for Dolokhov and Anatole, had shown an accepting attitude as she greeted them with a handshake far too polite for the occasion. At least she allowed them to touch her hand with their icy ones, unless one were to count the fact that she was wearing mittens to avoid direct contact.

Etoile, who had been in Marya’s arms, demanded for Anatole to carry her and without hesitation, the man picked up his niece and twirled around the room with delight. The blonde had screamed, “Is this my beloved niece?!” as he spun which sent Etoile and Hélène into a fit of giggles. As much as she trusted her brother, Hélène still had to keep an eye on his as he played about with her daughter. He could get a little too absorbed in his own mind to consider caution. At the same time, the sight of her own brother and daughter bonding brought tears of joy to her eyes.

Dolokhov slid into a vacant seat at the dining table beside Sonya who groaned loudly in dismay for him to hear and Natasha laughed opposite them. Mary looked away, girding herself. Pierre waved to them awkwardly and pushed his falling glasses up his nose, scrunching it from how his glasses slid off his nose once more. The house was filled with Etoile’s giggling and cheering as Anatole spun around the room with her. Her cheers were contrasted by the quiet hissing and snapping from Dolokhov and Sonya who had decide to strike up another petty argument over Dolokhov’s manners. Oh, the joy to have the familiarity of the orchestra of sounds Hélène and Marya had been so used to in Moscow. They never thought that they would ever have the homeliness of Moscow in their own house but with this family of theirs, they brought the entirety of their home with them.

In all honesty, Marya did miss the ambience of Moscow. She would never forget it though. The gossips, the opera, the parties. They were all part of her being. She stood at the kitchen door with great fondness for everyone in the room, breathing in a refreshing whiff of air. It would have been nice if it were not for Anatole’s overwhelming perfume but it would do. Clapping her hands together, she sat at the table and everyone sat to join her.

“I won’t speak long. I’m sure everyone is hungry a long journey but I would like to thank you all for coming such a long distance to see Hélène and I. We have missed every single one of you dearly and I don’t think there’s a day that is more blessed than today. I hope we can gather like this more frequently in the future. But for now, we will cherish what we have,” Marya spoke, glancing at Hélène who was swooning over her. “Enjoy your dinner and may god bless you all.”

“God bless you too,” Mary chimed in her seat and when everyone turned to look at her, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“How adorable,” Hélène cooed.

“If you responded like her, maybe you’d be adorable too,” Marya interjected which earned her a frown.

“Are you saying I’m not adorable?” Hélène gasped dramatically.

“And we eat!” Dolokhov interrupted which worked like a charm.

So, they ate their dinner as one loving family. Hélène had Etoile sat on her lap as she fed the little girl. While so, they chatted with Anatole and Dolokhov in their weirdly positioned triangle but it worked. Natasha, Sonya and Mary shared their own triangle where they whispered and giggled in soft whispers in stark comparison to the other trio but neither groups were bothered. Marya was far too busy for a conversation as she was gazing at Hélène who was speaking to their daughter and feeding her with some bread and soup. Her daughter and her wife. Her heart was so full and with everyone here with them, she felt as though she might just pass out from the joy. She could very well but she did not wish to make a fool of herself.

And Pierre. Dear old Pierre. He observed his old friend and his former betrothed with an easy smile that came to his lips, distracted to the point he had forgotten about his dinner. He had never seen Marya so romantically endearing nor had he ever seen her openly display her emotions towards Hélène who she had once despised with every bit of her soul. Hélène was kinder now; much more kinder than she used to be when she carried the title of ‘The Queen of Society’. The title she held now was different, a better one for a change. She was now a mother and a wife to the woman she loved, and my God did that make Pierre proud of his intervention in their plans to grant them such happiness. He too had found his own happiness fairly quickly with Natasha which he was grateful for. It appeared that everyone at the dining table found their happy endings, or beginnings.

A curious thought. He wondered how things had been if he had refused to help Marya and Hélène flee Moscow to start anew. Would they be this happy, decently happy to an extent or miserable? Pierre was not willing to make a bet. Whatever it was, he appreciated the moment. He thanked the Lord above who gifted them this life and began to eat when Natasha tapped his shoulder for his attention. All was well.

#nat.txt #marya dmitryevna akhrosimova #marya dimitrievna #helene kuragina #helene kuragin #maryalene #marlene #the great comet #the great comet of 1812 #Natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812 #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #runaway fic #nat.writes

[katherinemallory]

#6 A sign from the stars

You can find the previous chapters here: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5

In the last few days it seemed I hardly recognized myself. One Friday I stayed at the MI6 Headquarters much longer than usual, because I needed to finish all the work before the weekend. I wanted to prevent anyone from bothering me on one of my free days, so I did everything I could to make sure I didn't forget about anything. It was getting dark outside the windows, as 8 P.M. got closer, so I drew the curtains before I sat in my armchair.

I was trying to relax and regain the energy. I've just finished preparing some of the documents I had to deliver directly to M, but didn’t intend to go there just yet. I needed a short break. I waited there for 15 minutes, doing absolutely nothing, apart from listening to the cars that were passing by the MI6 Headquarters outside the window. Then I locked my office and went to the last floor.

I was wondering whether Eve would still be working that late in the evening. My assumption was that she would stay in the building as long as Mallory was there. But with Mallory... you could never know for sure. No one was fully aware of his schedule... perhaps for safety reasons.

The corridors on the last floor were empty and it felt like the whole building has been abandoned. You could hear quiet phone conversations from behind the doors, but that late in the evening it felt a bit as if the ghosts had invaded the place.

I knocked on Eve’s door twice, but didn't hear that welcoming voice in response. I was extremely tired, barely could see anything with my eyes, and I wanted to go home so badly, that I ignored the basic savoir-vivre rules and went inside even though I had not been invited.

There was no one sitting behind Eve's desk. The lights were off, and with all the important stuff left on the desk I felt like a burglar.

Great, I thought. There is no one around to assist me. I can't leave these documents here, not making sure they would go directly to Mallory... but I can't step into his office either if he's not here!

To me it seemed like he wasn't there. The omnipresent silence suggested that the office was empty, but I didn’t have much choice. Damn it, I'm going to check if the door is open...

I placed my hand on the doorknob and pushed the famous maroon door. To my surprise, the door has opened, but no one greeted me, which meant I've just broken into M's office.

The interior looked quite mysterious. Just as in the previous room, the lights were off, but the office wasn't covered in total darkness, as someone didn't draw the curtains next to the M's desk. The city lanterns’ light was trying to reach the book shelves behind the desk. For a moment I wondered what kind of books does my supervisor enjoy the most.

I went straight to his desk, my moves being extremely clumsy. The only thing I had in my mind was to do it as quickly as possible and leave. 

When I stopped in front of the desk and placed the documents on it, I felt my heart *racing* in my chest. I tried to remain calm. Calm down, Kath. You *had* to deliver this directly to Mallory... and you just did it. Calm down. There's nothing wrong with you being alone in your supervisor's office. I had trouble with convincing myself of that. That is probably why I didn't hear someone coming inside.

I didn't hear the footsteps. I realized that someone has joined me only seconds before being hugged from behind. I felt the warmth of a man’s body.

"Someone has broken into her supervisor's office?" whispered a pair of lips that gently kissed me on the neck, refusing to wait for my response.

A familiar voice had come from the lips that kissed me. I knew exactly who that man was.

"I came to bring you... the documents... you had asked for... earlier today... sir," I said, staying still: having M's desk in front of me, and unable to see the face of the man who was still holding me in his arms.

"Thank you, Katherine," he replied, while he moved his hands to my waist. "But it would be a waste of time... to come here only to bring me documents."

He kissed my neck once again, this time more predatory, and turned me around.

At first, I only saw his silhouette in the office's darkness, but soon recognized Mallory's face thanks to the dim light coming from outside the window. I was both astonished and thrilled, and, as a result, unable to move. He held me tight in his arms, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I *couldn't* wait any longer," confessed Mallory and smelled my hair. "Since your first day in the section I've been thinking about you..." he made a pause and hungrily glanced at my lips. “So I stepped in when I saw you here. I just hope..." he whispered, "... I just hope you're okay with that."

I couldn't believe my own ears, but I knew exactly *what* I wanted to do and *how much* I wanted to do it. I seductively bit my lower lip and then slowly raised my right hand and caressed his cheek, admiring his face for a brief moment.

"The feeling's mutual, sir," I said breathlessly and kissed him.

My hands laid on his chest, impatiently exploring his body in the dark. He continued to kiss me passionately as he lifted me onto his desk, while I started to unbutton his shirt. We got lost in the moment completely: he, caressing my hair and my back, and me, sitting on his desk, with my hands taking off Mallory's braces...

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

I opened my eyes, as the alarm clock rang. I looked around, expecting Mallory to be lying in my bed next to me, but I was the only person in the room. So, that was only a dream... such a shame, I thought, as I touched my neck as if I were a man who intended to kiss me. 

I wasn't in the good mood. Who would like to come back to reality after such a night? But I got out of bed to turn the clock off and to check my phone. Still no response from 007... You have really screwed this up, Kath.

I wasn't sure how many days or weeks have passed since my failed mission and the infamous conversation I had with Bond. I stopped to count them.

The life in the double-0 section has slowed down, but there was one thing to look forward to. All of us had to attend a one-on-one meeting with M who has been trying to figure out if there's a leak in the section.

I looked at my wall calendar only to discover that today was the day of mine "interrogation" with Mallory. Maybe that's why I had such a spicy dream tonight... cause my heart gets crazy before our every meeting... And let’s be honest Kath, your subconscious wants him *really* badly. 

The truth was that I missed Mallory dearly, as I haven't ran into him in the recent days. It was an uncomfortable feeling - to miss someone you don’t know much about, but at the same time be aware of the fact that this *someone* makes you unable to sleep at night. I found myself regularly thinking about his mysterious green eyes and dark brown hair. I *loved* looking at him when he was giving orders to other double-0s, talking to Eve, or even just wandering around the corridors. The way he moved like seemed fairly attractive to me... Was I being ridiculous? Was I really in love with him? I wasn’t sure, but I was *craving* for my next meeting with Mallory.

I was nearly ready, drinking my everyday cup of Earl Grey and eating breakfast, when my phone rang unexpectedly. I had to stand up to pick it up.

It was Eve. Did the hour of my "interrogation" change?

"Hello, Eve, what's up?"

She sounded a bit strange, as if she was afraid to tell me why she has called me.

"Hi, Kath," she said in a faint voice. "Have you... left your apartment already?"

"No," I replied. "But I will do it in 15 minutes time."

"Well... in that case... don't leave your place then."

The way Eve said the last few words made me feel really worried.

"Why so? Eve, what is going on??" I said nervously, but determined to uncover the truth. "You sound differently than usual... did something happen??"

"Y-y-yes," faltered Eve. "Do you remember our last conversation about M when you said..."

"Yes, I remember," I interrupted her. "Though I’m not sure what that has to do with this..."

"Well Kath... I'm really sorry to tell you this, but... 003 who had his meeting before you... he tried to assassinate M."

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed and fell on the couch. I began to tremble. "He tried to do WHAT...? Is M alright???"

"He was taken to the hospital a while ago," responded Eve. "A stab wound to the left arm. 003 attacked M with a letter opener from his own desk..." she made a pause and then sighed. "It was really awful, Kath. I was behind the door and could do absolutely nothing! I didn't even know something was going on there! M must have pressed this button under his desk to signalize emergency... the guards came into the office very quickly and took 003 to the isolation room but... M's arm has been already covered in blood. When I saw him I nearly fainted... and then I thought of you... since you feel something for him..."

"How serious is his injury?" I asked immediately, being surprised by my ability to remain rational.

"I have no idea, Kath. But I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you so much Eve... I really appreciate that you've called me..."

I suddenly realized that something was not right. Again, I was surprised by the fact I was able to think straight in such an emotional situation.

"... but Eve, why you've told me to stay home? I can come to work and continue with the documents..."

"No, Kath, I'm sorry, but you can't," she said. "003's last mission was set in that area in Australia where Abbruscato wanted to buy mines... and since you and Amanda were both so close to him... you're first ones on the list of suspects. I'm sorry, but..."

She didn't have to explain this to me. This is how the world of espionage looks like.

"... but we're under arrest," I said calmly as I opened the curtains, and looked through the window to see the street. "The guards are coming right now, aren't they?"

"Yes, they left a while ago. They will stay at your door until the investigation's over."

I became quiet. 

"Katherine, are you still there?"

"Yeah...” I answered, staring at the street and tucking the hair behind my left ear. “Thank you, Eve. Thank you so much," I said briefly and I hanged up.

After a while, I was sitting on my couch, looking on my cup of cold Earl Grey. 

I didn't want to talk anymore. To anyone.

Just as in my dream, I couldn’t move. It seemed like I lost the ability to feel anything because of the unexpectedness of the news. If someone came to me and wanted to hurt me in any way, I wouldn’t care at all. I just wanted to know how’s Mallory.

So this was the real meaning of my dream... It was a warning. A prediction. A telepathic sign from Mallory? A sign from the stars telling me something terrible has happened to the man I love?

Wait, did I just think that? Did I just call Mallory the man I *love*?

***

To be continued.

#james bond #bond james bond #007 #fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #gareth mallory #m #katherine mallory #002 #eve moneypenny

[sanderssides-incorrectquotes]

AUP; Chapter 2: Sufficiently Satisfactory

It's been a long, long wait, but it's finally here!

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: Virgil's a typical teenager this chapter, sulking about what's gone wrong in the past 2 hours; Food mentions, since this is basically lunch time chapter

Pairings: Platonic Moceit, Platonic Moxiety, Platonic Anxceit, Platonic Prinxiety, Platonic/Best Friends Analogical

Prologue || Previous (Chapter 1)

~~~~~♡~~~~~

Turns out he couldn't work with this.

  Roman had left to help the teacher move benches they had used in gym class, so their conversation was cut short, and Virgil didn't have the guts to try and talk to him again in homeroom.

  By the time lunch rolled around, Virgil placed some binders (meaning folders. Though he wished he had actual binding binders) and books in his locker, taking only what he needed for the afternoon; french, math, homeroom. Or, in its simplest form, everything would be taken with him except his science work and music media. 

  Heaving a sigh, he locked up his locker once more and headed to the lunchroom. 

  He had heard over the announcements that morning that there was a student nerds’ book club meeting - not what the announcements said, mind you - so he was certain Logan wouldn't spend lunch with him. That wasn't nice, but it was understandable.

  Thinking this day couldn't get much worse - the world wouldn't throw that at him today, right? - Virgil carelessly walked through the middle of the lunchroom, as opposed to most times where he’d travel around the edge.

  Managing to get to a table, Virgil sat down and took out his lunch and phone. He just looked through Tumblr as he ate leftover pasta that had been warmed up this morning then packed in a thermos for the trip in his bag. This helped to ease the negative feelings he had. 

   While he slowly used up the lunch hour, he heard a quiet but sweet sounding voice. "Excuse me, but can we sit here?"

   He looked up to find a person he regularly saw outside on the front steps in the morning; they were easily recognisable, even with Virgil's tendency to forget appearances. There was also another person, with green-blue body paint covering the left side of their face in a snake scale pattern. "Go ahead and do what you wanna do, no one's stopping you.” Once again, he was reminded that he was born as a female and he despised it.

   "Thanks." The one that was usually seen on the front steps smiled and pushed up his glasses, even if there was no need to. "I'm Patton, by the way. And this is my friend, Ethan!" Ethan promptly gave a small wave as they sat down, pausing his attempts to open his containered lunch. 

   “Need some help with that?” Virgil mumbled in a question after a quick minute of watching Ethan struggle to break the seal, and Patton looking sympathetically at the other as he unbagged and ate his sandwich. Virgil looked to the doors of the lunchroom, hoping Logan would come through; False hope, sadly.

   “Sure,” Ethan responded, handing the container to Virgil who opened it as he would always open his own; applying a fair bit of pressure then twisting. It was normal, he’d assume. He slid it across the table, back to Ethan who was admittedly surprised, seeing as the container didn’t fight Virgil whatsoever. 

  “What do you have against me, stainless steel cylinder?” Ethan glared at the container, before scoffing at both Patton’s giggle and the silence he received, yet was unable to hold back the smile that formed on his face. It was at that moment Virgil felt out of place. 

   "Oh! Where are my manners," Patton suddenly shouted, though not quite loud enough to draw too much attention. "What's your name?"

   "Violet," Virgil mumbled. He wasn't ready to come out to random people he met at school. Then he remembered something. "Just call me Vi," He gave a slight smile, realizing that this was a pretty good idea, if he does say so himself. 

   "Alright, nice to meet you Vi," Ethan smiled, taking a drink from his water bottle while Patton gave an enthusiastic nod.

   Virgil smiled back, then looked to the doors again, seeing Logan near the front, looking around. Virgil looked back to Ethan and Patton. "Sorry, but I'll see you around." 

   With a cheerful exit of Patton waving him away in a loud "Alright, goodbye!" after Ethan's crisp and classy sounding "See you around." Virgil walked across the cafeteria, purposefully walking around Logan in the hopes to surprise him.

   Too bad his plans were foiled. Logan turned around when Virgil was at a meter's length away. 

   "Darn it," Virgil pouted, crossing his arms.

   "Apologies, did I interrupt another one of your schemes?" Logan amusedly smiled at his best friend, placing his hands on his hips with a cock of his head.

   "Indeed," Virgil laughed, forgetting about the rest of the cafeteria's inhabitants. "Did that meeting of yours end early?" 

   "Rather the opposite. It didn't end at all, seeing as it didn't even start." Logan disappointedly sighed. "Hardly anyone showed, just about three students, me included. They chose to wait two weeks until the next meeting, deciding that it was too early in the year for future joiners to be interested." 

   Virgil understood that, seeing as everyone was still getting situated with being at school. "That must be disappointing." 

   "I mean-" Logan fiddled with his bracelet- "I really should've expected a student started lunch group outside isn't going to reasonably have any joiners in the first week of school -- especially since it's a reading group."

   "Again, that's disappointing." Virgil repeated, startling as one of the lunch supervisors shouted for them to either take a seat or go outside.

   "It really is," Logan mumbled to Virgil, the both of them heading outside. "I was hoping it'd be successful, like my dad's book group."

   "That sucks." Virgil wasn't sure how to react anymore, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn't exactly the best at conversing. But then a smile lit up his features. "Say, how about you ask your parents if you can come to my house for a couple hours? We didn't really get to a solid conclusion earlier, so why not?" 

   Logan, too, harbored a smile now, nodding. "That'd be pleasant." 

   Maybe Virgil could work with this after all.

~~~~~♡~~~~~

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AUP Taglist: @heathers-dorkness-0923 @notalwaysthebadguy

#AUP #An Unexpected Production #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #eventual prinxiety #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #best friends analogical #analogical #platonic analogical #platonic moceit #moceit #moxiety #platonic moxieceit #anxceit #platonic anxceit #trans virgil #trans!virgil #winterwrites

[viobliterator]

concert date - a dazatsu fic

I’ll upload the next and final part after I finish. In the meantime, I thought it would be easier for everyone and less overwhelming if I split the full thing into parts. Enjoy the fluffy portion! 

notes: this whole story is based on a couple of concerts I’ve been to with friends. i actually named all the bands mentioned after streets in Toronto with cool-sounding names   

click here for part 2

word count: 2874 of 6546

ship: Atsushi Nakajima/Osamu Dazai

summary: Atsushi and Dazai are in for a treat as they go to see one of their mutual favourite bands after a hard day at the Agency. But things don’t always go as planned. 

Today was actually quite the busy day at the Armed Detective Agency in terms of sheer workload. If there wasn’t an active case to work on, the office was swamped with reports and other paperwork to write. Doppo Kunikida, the agency’s second-in-command, called for all hands on deck and he ruled the office with an iron fist. There was to be no dilly-dallying until everything was done - even past closing. This exacting and methodical nature of his was something he thrived on and was proud of.

   The whole morning, the main office was a cacophony of laptop keyboards clicking and clacking. Aside from everyone’s exhausted fingers at work and fellow detective Ranpo Edogawa’s constant munching of junk food, one could practically hear a pin drop. Everyone in the agency was focused and working to the bone.

 Even Osamu Dazai - who was infamous in the office for his being the embodiment of Sloth, was actually working diligently. Atsushi Nakajima, who worked right beside him, couldn’t help but glance over once in a while at his senior and find it quite the conundrum. He caught glimpses of Dazai’s head bobbing to imaginary music as though he had his headphones on, but that was about it in terms of him showing his distractible, normally carefree nature. Atsushi thought that surely his mentor would be up to something, especially to throw Kunikida off of his precious schedule on a chaotic day like this. But perhaps for once, today wasn’t the day. After all, despite being a complete goof most of the time that thrives on chaos, Dazai did know when to take things seriously when it came to a tough situation, as Atsushi had seen before. It was something he admired in him.

   The golden-eyed young man had almost lost himself in the report he was typing up when he suddenly heard the rough but timid sound of a piece of paper moving on the wooden desk he worked on. He paid no attention to it until he felt a gentle nudge on his arm coming from the direction of his co-worker. Atsushi glanced at Dazai for a moment in slight annoyance, as though to ask vexingly what he wanted. His mentor’s lips curled into a grin and his dark brown eyes shifted from Atsushi to the small piece of paper he slid towards him, and then back over to the lad. It seemed like he was telling him to look at the little piece of paper.

   Although this note seemed to be rather important, this wasn’t high school. For someone that was 22 years old, he sure acted like an impudent teen at times.

   Atsushi gingerly flipped the torn bit of paper over to see what it said.

               “I’ve got a surprise for you~”

The were-tiger could practically hear his co-worker singing the contents of the note. Atsushi furrowed his brows, sneakily taking out his phone to avoid Kunikida’s glare, and began to quietly type a message to Dazai.

   “Why don’t you just text me? Or maybe just talk?”

Atsushi proceeded to send the text message. A moment later, a loud buzzing sound emerged from Dazai’s coat pocket resting on the back of his chair. Like an eagle, Kunikida’s hazel glare from across the room seemed to freeze time itself. As Dazai reached into the pocket where the buzzing sound came from, Kunikida promptly stood from his seat, pointing his finger towards the resident troublemaker.

“Dazai!”

Atsushi flinched at the sudden loud voice that cut through the air like a steel katana.

“Oh come on, Kunikida! What if it’s an emergency?” Dazai whined with a visible pout.

“Emergency, my ass! You’ll have a real emergency on your hands if you start goofing around on your social media or whatever!”

“I don’t even use social media.”

Kunikida clenched his teeth, and pushed his glasses up on his nose with, fittingly, his middle finger.

“Dazai, I swear to God if you don’t get your bandage-squandering kiester back to work --” he began, fist clenched.

“Alright, alright, fine. You sure are a cranky-pants today.” Dazai complied, raising his hands as though Kunikida’s rage was a truly dangerous situation that needed to be diffused. However, Atsushi figured what probably got the mischievous man next to him to fess up was the fact that he insulted his senior’s curious habit of always wearing bandages.

Dazai grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and glanced towards Atsushi with his dark brown eyes. Seeming to be irritated at being called out, he began to scribble something on another sheet of paper and quietly tore the fragment, passing it to his silver-haired apprentice.

               “That’s why.”

The were-tiger’s heart sunk. In an instant, Atsushi began to write another note in reply and passed it along to his co-worker. He did his best to avoid the prying eyes of his supervisor.

“Sorry…”

“No worries!”

   Dazai’s note replied, with an added smiley-face on the bottom of the note. The lad couldn’t help but smile at the crude drawing. Atsushi began to write once more.

               “So what’s this surprise?”

   Atsushi was mentally preparing himself now for this so-called “surprise” that Dazai supposedly prepared. He was expecting it to be something relating to his quest for a perfect, clean suicide, but just as the lad boarded his train of thought, his co-worker slid two small rectangular, cleanly cut sheets of thick paper towards him. Inky black barcodes decorated the edge of each paper almost like the hem on an article of clothing. Atsushi caught a small grin as Dazai started typing on his laptop again, tucking his curly brown hair behind his ear. Curious like a true cat of the wild, the 18-year-old flipped the strange papers over to see what the other side contained. Upon registering what these papers indeed were, The were-tiger gasped loudly before he could even think. A jovial, grand smile crossed his complexion and his burst of joy echoed through the office as he realized that they were two concert tickets to one of his new favourite bands.

   Atomic Avenue was playing tonight, just an hour after the office was scheduled to close for the day.

   Dazai hastily brought a finger to his lips to hush Atsushi. In spite of trying to suppress the joy he was announcing to the world, he was smiling just as wide as his younger friend.

   The two men usually took the subway together on their commute to the Agency - that is if Dazai bothered to show up to work that day. After a while of working and hanging out together, the older man began to offer to share some of his music with Atsushi. The lad was hesitant at first since most of the songs Dazai sang along to at the office were about enthusiastic double-suicide, but Atsushi mustered up the courage to finally browse through his music library when he was offered the opportunity to pick whatever he liked. As Atsushi had never gotten such luxuries before at the orphanage he was raised in, he relished the opportunity to be able to choose a song from a phone and just play it through a pair of shared earbuds…

To just enjoy music with someone he could call his friend...

Dazai saw sharing his music tastes as a subtle opportunity to get to know him a little better, and as a way to try to open up to people a tad more. After all, wouldn’t Atsushi do the same thing because of how much he trusted him?

For some reason, Dazai saw someone looking through his music library as a very intimate thing, and felt a little vulnerable and naked as Atsushi would continuously scroll through artists and songs that he would very likely not know, or wince in disdain of his musical repertoire. After all, why would he like any of the same things he does?

Through the hell hole that was Osamu Dazai’s short but infinite life, music was one of the few of life’s little pleasures that kept him going in this oxidizing world. It gave him hope, even if it was hope for one day being able to commit a lover’s suicide to the beat of a catchy tune. How would Atsushi be able to understand that connection?

And then, it happened.

Despite having no knowledge of the band, or any of the music on Dazai’s playlist for that matter, Atsushi had randomly picked Atomic Avenue with one of their more popular songs. The smile that began to grow on the younger man’s face made Dazai’s heart flutter, as the lad seemed to enjoy what he was listening to. Despite this irrational fear of rejection the former mafioso felt, Atsushi enjoyed this side of Dazai he found at the end of this wall. It was hard for Atsushi to get to know him at all because of how reserved he was despite his cheerful exterior, but music had miraculously brought the two of them a bit closer.

It meant a lot to the two, and it seemed tonight would be a celebration of sorts for both of them.

However, Atsushi and Dazai both knew that neither of them would be able to celebrate their favourite band coming to Yokohama tonight if they couldn’t get their work done on time.

And so, the pair both buried their heads in their laptops and went to work once again…

The rendezvous time had finally come for Atsushi and Dazai on their journey to the Atomic Avenue concert. They had actually managed to get their paperwork done earlier than first predicted, which thankfully gave the two time to plan on when and where to meet. The plan that they came up with was Atsushi meeting Dazai at his dorm after a quick change of clothes, since they lived in the same building. A rock concert like this would certainly not be the place for their normal work clothes, so they had to look the part as best as they could.

Atsushi, with the limited wardrobe he had, ended up choosing to wear his versatile white collared shirt under a taupe pullover hoodie. The lad also decided to wear a pair of blue jeans and comfy sneakers that he’d bought with one of his first paycheques. Now was the perfect time to finally wear them, as he hadn’t had many opportunities for social outings.

   He had finally arrived at his friend’s door, hitting his knuckles against it three times to signal his arrival.

   “One second!” A muffled, enthusiastic voice sang from the other side of the wooden door. A series of clattering noises and bumping sounds filled the air before the doorknob finally turned. Atsushi couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited, but he just couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Was it the mystery of what sort of outfit his superior would wear? Was it the fact that they were having a night out together? He didn’t know something so mundane in the eyes of many would affect him this much, and in such a positive way as well.

   The young man’s heart jumped when the door opened. Dazai’s hand emerged from the space he created, grabbing onto the edge of the door. But something was a bit different.

   As well as Dazai’s hand being bandaged like it habitually was, he was also wearing a black wrist brace. The brunette’s head popped from the open door, a wide grin plastered on his face.

   “Hey, Atsushi!” He sang. The older man opened the door the rest of the way, revealing a mostly dark, but still well-thought outfit. He was wearing a long, simple spring coat that matched the colour of his dark brown eyes and hair. He also wore a white collared shirt just like Atsushi and wore a dark blue scarf to cover up some of the bandages that crossed his chest that wasn’t already masked by the shirt he wore. He never seemed outwardly ashamed of the bandages he continuously wore, but wouldn’t go out of his way to confidently expose them to the world either. The tall man wore a pair of black pants and a pair of comfortable looking shoes to finish off the ensemble.

   Atsushi couldn’t help but like what he saw, but his attention quickly focused back on Dazai’s new hand accessory.

   “What’s with the wrist brace? Are you alright?”

   An idea flashed in his head like a lightbulb. “Did you…?” He cautiously began to ask, wondering if his superior tried once again to take his life. The older man frowned, as though he had been offended by the lad’s inquiry.

   “Heavens, no! Do you really think I’d try to end it all right now and stand you up right before our big night out? That’s just plain rude.” He said, crossing his slender arms.

   “That’s… comforting?”

   “Don’t you worry. I’ll have you know, I wouldn’t miss these guys for anything. Not even a golden opportunity to give up the ghost with a beautiful vixen.”

   “Whatever you say, Dazai. So why the brace?” Atsushi asked, pointing towards his companion’s hand.

   “Ah. I was getting ready but then I shut the closet door on my hand by accident.”

   Atsushi grimaced at the incident playing in his mind. The older man clapped his hands together excitedly with a gleam in his eye.

   “So! Let’s get going then!”

   The younger man smiled back at him. When his partner had a genuine smile on his face that wasn’t one of the many fake ones worn that seemed a bit too sharp at times, it was contagious. Atsushi was glad that his friend had something to truly smile about and look forward to in life, even if it was just a rock concert. The little things in life seemed to be able to keep one going even at their lowest point, and that was something the were-tiger understood more than most.

   The two men had taken public transportation to the venue Atomic Avenue was playing at. On the way there, they enjoyed the simple pleasure of each other's company. There was a silence that filled the space between them when they couldn't come up with conversation points and normally times like those would make Atsushi feel as though he weren’t good at talking to people. However, this was different. The silence between them was comfortable, as though the lad was back at his dorm and cozied up in his bed. There was something about the presence of Atsushi’s superior that calmed his anxious heart and made him feel safe. There seemed to be an aura of warmth around the man that made him feel as though he were more than everyone in his life had told him he was… He felt as though he was okay just being himself - not just that, but he felt encouraged to be the best version of himself that he could be. The lad caught himself glancing at Dazai every so often, with resting his head against the streetcar window and staring out at the passing scenery. As the sun set in Yokohama, the waves of dying sunlight cascaded through the window and reflected in his curly brown hair and distant eyes that seemed to be wandering in their own world for the moment. Atsushi didn’t know why he enjoyed watching this so much. There was a part of him that wouldn’t have cared if the concert had suddenly been cancelled, as long as he got to spend this time in quiet bliss with his mentor and friend.

   “What’re you thinking about?” The lad muttered, leaning forward to get a better view of his face. Dazai’s eyes widened and lit up as he snapped out of his little trance.

   “Hm?” He acknowledged, turning towards Atsushi.

   “I asked what you were thinking about. You were off in your own world for a minute there.”

   “I was?”

   “Yeah!” Atsushi chuckled. “So, what were you thinking about?”

   Dazai looked down, his eyes being a cracked open window that showed a little bit of vulnerability.

   “Actually, I was thinking about how I’ve never gone to something like this with a companion before.” He mumbled with a slight grin. “It’s nice.” He said, locking eyes with Atsushi. The younger man felt his cheeks begin to flush. It was rare to see this side to his mentor.

   “I-It is?” Atsushi stuttered.

   “Of course…” the elder replied, “When I get wasted, I’ve got someone to take me home. No more drunk tank for me!”

   The lad felt his warmed cheeks from a few moments ago turn ice cold, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

   “...Is that so?”

   “I can tell you right now, sleeping in the drunk tank really does a number on your back,” Dazai exclaimed.

   Atsushi felt his heart sink. It was just like Dazai to turn a subject like this into a joke. He would come so very close to opening up about himself for once; but just when he would begin, he would it suddenly with a sarcastic joke or an offhand remark, as though he suddenly would become fearful at the last second and turn tail.

   The pair finally arrived at their stop before Atsushi could confront him about this irritating and unhealthy habit.

#bungo stray dogs #dazatsu #dazushi #atsushi nakajima #osamu dazai #bsd #dazai osamu #nakajima atsushi #atsushi x dazai

[happythexceed]

Translation: “Mothers” by Yellow (GoRA)

Decided to translate the whole short story since most of it was done. Sorry for the grammar errors. 

“Misaki, can you accompany me to buy some flowers?”

Anna asked Yata stopping by a florist in the street.

“Flowers?”

Yata questioned in doubt unconsciously in his rowdy tone. His voice caught the attention of the male florist who was watering the plants in the florist.

The shop was full of flowers. Out of which, Yata could not name nine out of ten of them while Anna could not make out anything other than red flowers.

“It’s the florist’s favourite season of the year. There are many colourful flowers.”

Yata spoke even more softly than usual as Anna stepped into the florist. Yata followed after her. The florist was taken aback by Anna who resembled a delicate beautiful doll surrounded by flowers, his tone became gentle as he greeted her.

“Buying flowers for your mother?”

Yata who was always overlooking the English words finally noticed advertisements and billboards with “Mother’s Day” written everywhere.

There was also a drawing of red carnation that stood out through Anna’s eyes.

“Today is the day, isn’t it?”

The second Sunday in May.

“You can choose any colour you like to make a bouquet. We have red, white and orange to choose from. Purple is rare but it’s in fashion. Which colour does your mother like?"

“Which colour?”

Anna looked lost. She did not know what to do with the large pail of flowers before her.

Although she used to be able to control enormous power of fire as the Red King, she was still a normal twelve years old girl who liked flowers.

Perhaps she did not have experience in selecting flowers, with that in mind, Yata said out loud to bail her out of this situation.

“Red, all red!”

“When comes to carnations, of course we have to choose red! “

“Er… this is… there’s no problem, but pink is more common, there are also other kind of flowers which are popular…” The florist suggested. “As long as it’s red will do.” Yata raised his voice, “Give us a bouquet of red carnations!”

“There’s no need to raise your voice to scare him.” Anna chided.

“This is so embarrassing.”

Yata lowered his head muttering under his breath. It had been three months since the destruction of the Slate. HOMRA was no longer a gang of hooligans hanging around the street.

“But still, thank you, Misaki. I’m very happy.”

Anna smiled looking at the bouquet of red carnation she carried on her arms. It was not a bouquet Anna could not hold on to despite its size with ten stalks of carnations bundled nicely together.

“Let’s give this to Izumo when we get back, shall we?”

Anna suggested in a whim. How would Kusanagi who was always standing behind the bar counter react if he received the bouquet? Yata could not help but to shiver thinking about it.

“Er… er… if… if we see Kusanagi-san as mother, he will certainly reprimand us for messing with him.” But since it was a present from Anna Kusanagi would still be happy… he guessed. Yata on the other hand would most likely be beaten up for this.

“I see… then let’s give this to Rikio’s mother, shall we?”

“Oh, I think that should be okay, his mother will be happy to receive this.”

During the period Kusanagi had shut down his bar and went abroad (Yata was the only one who didn’t know Kusanagi’s objective was left alone in the bar), Rikio’s mother was the one who had been taking care of Anna.

“How about Misaki? Aren’t you giving flowers to your mother?”

“Me? Forget it. My mum will prefer dumpling instead. Or should I say she will prefer to have dumpling for dinner.”

Before Minoru matured, Yata had been racking his head every year just to think of a gift which would please his mother. As his brother grew up, his little sister was born, he was still having headache about it. After that Yata went into rebellious stage and he washed his hands off such matters as he found this ridiculous. He had ever folded some paper flowers for his mother as he could not afford the real carnations. His mother accepted them happily. She was not just happy with the flowers she received but rather she was happy with his effort to please her.

Yata finally understood now that she was touched by his sincerity back then. Since he left home with Fushimi when he was fifteen, he could count how many times had he went home to visit with his fingers… He decided he would not give her the flowers.

Rather than giving her flowers, she would be happier if he’d find some time to visit them back home.

“…Eh?”

Something caught Yata’s attention as he was considering of going home. He turned his head.

Major roads in both directions were lined up with cars, it was a person in a well-polished Mercedes-Benz which just passed by a high-end boutique that caught his attention. The first thing that came to his mind was Fushimi’s name, why would he think of him suddenly. They were two different people, isn’t it?

“Ahh!” Yata finally realised something and his gaze was fixed on her once again.

Yata threw out his skateboard as a reflex and went after the car.

“Misaki?”

Yata left Anna who let out a surprise voice behind. The honks by the cars were loud enough to burst his ear drum as he sped in between the cars.

Yata was only focusing in catching up with that car. In order to catch up with the person in the car, he stopped the car.

The chauffeur looked very shocked to see a person appeared so suddenly before the car. He stepped on the emergency brake abruptly and the car was stopped with the force coming from Yata when he stopped the car by pressing on its bonnet with his bare hands. The chauffeur with white glove alighted from the car.

“You, you, are you alright? How can you rush to the front of the car like this?”

“Ah… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m fine…”

“But, what about the force I felt earlier?”

Yata retracted his hands from the bonnet of the car as though nothing happened, his line of sight fell on the person at the back of the car.

A lady with high heels, stockings, tight fitting dress alighted from the car. She gave her order to the chauffeur calmly, “Contact the police immediately.”

“We can’t have the President’s car getting involved in an accident.”

“It will only worsen things if we keep this a secret. Let the kid on the car and take him to the hospital immediately.”

“Ah, I’m really not injured. I’m stronger than normal human now. Rather, you are… Saruhiko’s mother, right? Fushimi Saruhiko’s…”

The lady widened her eyes as she scanned Yata’s face. At the same time, Anna had come to Yata’s side running all the way from the overhead bridge.

“Ah, you’re… I remember you.”

The lady had a surprised expression initially had reverted to her usual self.

“Yes, I’m Yata. … Long time no see, Aunty.”

Fushimi’s mother took them to a hotel lounge making them comfortable.

Yata’s eyes popped out just looking at the menu. Even the normal coffee cost 1,300 yens at least. Anna on the other hand had ordered a seasonal limited edition of “Cherry Parfait” that cost 2,300 yens a set. The parfait was presented before Anna in a short while. It was indeed a luxury … 2,300 yens… yeah as expected Yata could not accept that kind of luxury.

“How can hotel lounge charge something this expensive?”

“There is no difference with what Izumo is charging…”

Anna whispered to Yata while glancing at the lady sitting opposite them, She is called, Kisa, right? Fushimi Kisa. Yata had remembered clearly, this was how Fushimi’s father addressed her.

Yata went to Fushimi’s place to play often during their middle school days but Fushimi’s mother was rarely at home. Fushimi was always trying very hard to prevent him from meeting his father, hence he hardly saw his father, but still compared to his father, it was even harder to see his mother.

“How are you doing now? Are you still in school?”

“Me? I… I’m working part-time… Ah, but Saruhiko has a full time job, he is working for the government. Near his place, there is a gate that looked really grand, isn’t it? He is working there, working really hard with enthusiasm. Even though he is the youngest member there, he is already No. 3, they will entrust him with important mission…”

Yata was sharing with Kisa earnestly about how Fushimi is doing currently but was interrupted by Kisa abruptly.

“Is it? Although I didn’t ask about how is that kid doing?”

Yata was shocked by Kisa’s cold reaction. He lowered his head to the cup of coffee in front of him before raising his head abruptly.

“He, he is your son, isn’t it? I’m saying he is really awesome and really active, won’t you feel happy for him?”

“I have no right to praise that kid, because I have not done much for him.”

Yata was shocked at her cold tone. He did not know what should he say next despite feeling a sense familiarity.

“As for who has the right to praise him, they have to be those who are truly close to him. You can continue to praise him as though you are doing it for yourself. You are the one who has the right to compliment him, isn’t it?”

“It isn’t just me alone. That guy was complimented by many. His supervisors acknowledged him. Maybe, I’m saying maybe, even his subordinates admired him a lot!”

“I didn’t say I don’t believe you. Why are you trying so hard to tell me all these?”

“Compared to my compliment 100 times, a compliment that come from his mother could be much more special to him, I feel.”

Kisa was too stunned to talk after hearing Yata was saying so passionately.

I thought he was the kind who would say this, this was why I found this familiar sensation but in actual fact, he didn’t.

He said this before but I feel.

Even though he resembled his father a lot, inheriting most of his feature but actually, as expected he also took after his mother.

“President, it’s about time.”

The chauffeur who was not there earlier had appeared behind Kisa carefully spoke up.

Kisa sighed and stood up.

“I have other work arrangement and have to go. You can take your time to eat.”

At this moment, Anna stood up and ran after Kisa who was about to leave.

“Please, please accept this.”

Anna held out the bouquet of carnations.

“Because it’s Mother’s Day.”

“I have no reason to accept this.”

“Because Saruhiko is a friend I’m proud of… I’m giving this bouquet to his mother.” Raising her head and holding out the bouquet with two hands, Anna looked up to Kisa with her bright and clear eyes.

“……Is he? Thank you.” There is a tinge of guilt seen in her eyes when she accepted the bouquet.

The sound from Kisa’s heels faded with the rhythm of the music playing as she left the lounge. She wanted to tell her more about Fushimi and wanted to hear more from her to tell Fushimi about, but she was unable to say anything meaningful.

Anna came back to her only spoon of parfait left.

“The flowers we’re supposed to give to Rikio’s mother is given out.”

“That lady, she is a person who needs more flowers to decorate herself… even though the bouquet is gone, if it’s Rikio’s mother, she will be happy if we help in her shop, right?”

“Yes, she will be really happy. She will be really happy with Anna around.”

Yata returned to his senses and smiled warmly.

“Let’s eat. It would be a waste not to finish up the very expensive parfait. After that let’s head to Rikio’s place.”

“We had met your mother today, ah, really it’s a coincidence. Anna is around as well too.” Yata stopped typing halfway through his smart watch.

Compared to when he was 15 to now when he was 20, Yata’s opinion of his mother had changed. Fushimi who hated of his parents back then probably changed his opinion about his parents now right?

Because his father had left for another world, at least his relationship with his mother will improve, right? Yata thought.

“Mind your own business!” He would scold him angrily this way, he definitely will… “

Yata could imagine clearly how pissed he would look clicking his tongue.

“But she was still his mother right?” I just don’t get it!”

Trying to understand Fushimi based on his own assumption was not the way to go. Because he assumed this way back then, they had missed one another for so many years. Guess that guy would still need some time.

Yata reactivated his watch and deleted the earlier draft. He started a new message.

“Hey, come to think of it, you ate a green pepper when we had a meal together last month. You are awesome!”

Yata came up with anything that came to mind as long as he could compliment him, on behalf of his mother, let him praise him 100 times.

“I’m busy working overtime, don’t send me a meaningless message like this!”

“Oh?” It was a quick reply. Fushimi was typing vigorously on his keyboard quickly before his PC at work.

“Even if it is meaningless…”

Yata turned his head and noticed there is another line at the end.

“You are too slow with your compliment.”  

#k short story #k seven stories #K Return of Kings #kushina anna #yata misaki #fushimi kisa #fushimi saruhiko #imagine if Izumo is called the mother of homra #kusanagi is the mother hen of course #homra are filled with a bunch of kids #fushimi is loved by everyone

[uniquecreations]

“Workplace Lover” Pt. 1

I was working for this inventory company for a few months when I was promoted to inventory manager. I was assigned to certain stores and pretty much had my team together when they decided to hire a bunch of people. The downside to having new people on my team was the pace slowed down due to me training them. No matter in what company you may work for when you get promoted there are going to be haters and people just downright salty because they didn’t get the position. Either way, I was happy but my love life sucked monkey balls, I couldn’t find a man to save my life. I take part to blame in that because of the insecurities that I dealt with at the time.

  I got up for work this particular morning feeling awful, I went out the night before, got in at around 2:30 am and had to get up at 6 am for work. (Wasn’t one of my best choices.) When I made it to the pick-up spot my team was looking defeated as well, so I knew this was going to be a long day. I went and got all the equipment together and loaded it into one of the vans to leave. The new people showed up shortly afterward and we were ready to hit the road. I had this one friend Ron (straight guy) that I always shot the shit with every day. He would always seem to make the day easy for me by doing stupid shit that just hyped up all of us.

  We made to the job site and began working, I had about 5 out of the 8 new people that no matter what I did, they just couldn’t seem to catch on to add and subtract. In the ones that I was going to definitely keep, there was this one guy named Alton, he was brown skin, had dreads, a deep voice, and a gorgeous smile. He was the most impressive, not just because he was sexy but because he actually took direction well. Once I showed him what to do, it was only a few times he came to me for something after that.

  On our lunch break, I was eating at a nearby food joint with my homie Ron when Alton and a few other people walked in. I was so engulfed in Alton’s looks and the way he walked that I was totally ignoring Ron.

  “Nigga, did you hear me?” He said throwing a fry at me.

  “No, my bad what did you say?” I said embarrassed.

  “I said that since we off tomorrow we should go to the Daquiri Café and get fucked up.”

  “I don’t know about that, I had enough to drink last night to last me the rest of the year.” I said laughing.

  “Punk ass, come on man join ya boy and live a little.” He said pleading, and after a lil back and forth I finally agreed. He was right tho, he would ask me to go out with him and his girl all the time, but I always found an excuse not to go.

  “Aye, can I join yall?” Alton said approaching us with his food on his tray.

  “Sure,” I said looking at the food on his tray. “You sure you can eat all that before it’s time to go back?”

  “Probably but if I can’t then I will just pack this shit up and take it home.” He said after sitting down, we all shared a laugh together and spent the rest of our break getting to know our new team member.

  We finally got thru the day, to say I was beyond tired was an understatement. I already sent a van full of people home and the only people left was the audit team. We made sure all the counts were accounted for as well as correct any mistakes that were made. This process could take anywhere from 30 mins to 4 hours depending on the corrections that needed to be made. Ron and Alton stayed back to help with this process and that made it easier for me because they kept me laughing.

  “So, Alton since you apart of our team now, and since we all have the same schedule…... I was thinking that you should join Jaye and me at the Daquiri Café tonight for some drinks and bitches.” Ron said.

  “I don’t know about the bitches’ part because as you and I both know yo girl will kick both of us in the dick if she finds out.” I said laughing.

  “I’m game, I wasn’t doing shit tonight anyway.” Alton said. I wasn’t too sure about this because even though Ron knew I was gay, I didn’t like to hang around new people who didn’t know about my lifestyle. That could turn out really bad or just make it awkward while working.

  “Cool, they have two we can choose from but since Jaye is technically our boss I vote he choose which one we go to,” Ron said smirking.

  “I can’t fucking stand you and I’m not your boss, I’m only your supervisor while we work in the stores, I can’t fire or hire nobody just write you up and make a recommendation for your termination that’s it.” I said laughing.

  “Stop lying nigga, I looked at your computer earlier and I saw that you got rid of some of the people that came today.”

  “Shut up, that’s private information and while in training and since I’m still the lead trainer I do get to say who stays and who goes but I had to get rid of them because they just…… I don’t know maybe someone else can help them, but I can’t anymore.”

  “So, was I on that list of people? I mean just keep it real.” Alton said with a nervous look on his face and I smirked.

  “No, you weren’t if that was the case you wouldn’t be here right now…… enough of all this bullshit talk I need yall to go look for these sections that haven’t come in yet.” I said hanging them the list of things I needed to be checked.

  After making it home I was beyond tired, all I wanted to do was lay down in my bed and sleep until the following week. That was short lived because just when the sleep was getting good my phone started ringing. I grabbed it to see it was my boos calling.

  “Hey, I need some information about the people you switched and the ones you wanna keep.” She said after I picked up the phone.

  “The ones I wanna keep had absolutely no problem catching on to the work but the other five were just horrible at taking direction. I didn’t suggest that they should be fired I just wanted them to go to Bobbi or Angie team because they work in smaller stores and they can focus more on them than I could.”

  “Ok, we can do that but just for future references…... don’t involve me in your crap, you have every right to assign whomever you want to any team if you feel like they would be an asset to that team. Oh, and you did an amazing job today, I got nothing but good reports from the district manager.”

  “Tell me something new but I will talk to you later I have some things to take care of.”

  “Ok see you on Monday.” She said hanging up the phone. I looked at the time and realized that it was almost time to go meet up with Ron and Alton down the street at the Daquiri Café. I went took a shower and pulled out some clothes, no sooner than I got dressed Ron called my phone.

  “Damn can I put some draws on before you get to rushing me out the house?” I said laughing.

  “Nigga you should have been had yo shit on……. I’m outside so bring yo ass and open the door.” He said hanging up, I threw on some socks and went to open the door before I had to kick his ass. “You never on time for nothing nigga, you were late for work this morning, and now you just now getting dressed.”

  “If you going to be bitching all night then you can beat ya feet motherfucker.” I said walking back to my room, while walking I got hit in the back with a pillow off the couch. “You better stop before I whoop yo ass and put my shit back in the right spot too.”

  I walked into my room tempted to just say fuck it and call it a night, but I made a promise and I was going to keep it. I walked out the room to find that this nigga took all my pillows off my couch and tossed them on the floor. This nigga always doing stupid shit when he come over here, like the last time he came over here he put dish soap in my fish tank which killed all my damn fish. He did buy me some more but it’s stupid shit like that that works my nerves with him. I didn’t say nothing to him, I just walked into the kitchen and filled up a pot with hot water and walked back into the living room.

  “Yo you better not throw that shit on me.” He said holding up one of the pillows.

  “You got 30 seconds to fix my couch you jackass.” I said still holding the pot, he quickly put all the pillows back on my couch and I started laughing.

  “You never play fair tho Jaye, why would you wanna throw hot ass water on me before we go out that shit foul man.” He said laughing.

  “Because you always doing stupid shit, that’s why I’ma stop you from coming over here.” I said walking to the door.

  “Whatever let’s go that nigga probably already waiting on us.”

  “Ok but you driving because I’m still tired.”

  We made our way to the Daquiri Café in no time at all because as I said earlier it was literally down the street from my house. When we walked in I spotted Alton sitting at the bar, I thought he was sexy earlier but now that I see him in regular clothes…… this nigga is drop dead gorgeous. I had no idea how I was going to get thru this evening without staring at him the whole night. We walked up to the bar where he was sitting and sat down, Alton turned his head and looked in our direction.

  “About time yall showed up, I thought yall flaked out on me.” He said laughing.

  “No, but there is something you should know about our boss here……. His ass always late to everything. I got over to his house and his ass wasn’t even dressed yet.” Ron said laughing.

  “Well unlike you two bastards I had more work to do when I got home and plus I was still tired from last night. Yall lucky I’m even here right now.” I said flagging down the bartender. We all placed our order and sat there just talking like we had been friends for ever.

  “So how long you been doing Inventory?” Alton asked me.

  “For about a year now, it wasn’t my first choice but when I was offered the job, they gave me an offer that I couldn’t refuse.” I said sipping from my cup. “Overall, it’s been good, but I don’t think I wanna make a career out of it like Doris and Linda, but it pays the bills and leave me with extra in my pocket.”

  “Cool, this is new to me I’m used to working fast food or doing lil odd jobs from temp services.”

  “You have great work ethics, unlike some people I know.” I said looking at Ron.

  “Aye fuck you nigga I’m the best person you have on your team so miss me with the bullshit or I’ma have to beat yo ass.”

  “The only thing you can beat is yo meat nigga, don’t start your bullshit.” I said and we all bust out laughing.

  “How long yall been cool? It seems like yall brothers or something.” Alton asked and the way he said ‘something’ didn’t sit right with me but I wasn’t going to think on it too much.

  “Before my promotion we worked a few jobs together, he has been a thorn in my side ever since.”

  “Yea right nigga, but Jaye is a down right cool as dude, he will do whatever he can to help anyone just as long as they trying to do shit for themselves.”

  “That’s what’s up, but let’s go get a game of pool in and get this shit crunk.”

  We played pool, got some food, had more drinks than I wanted to have, and had a damn good time just shooting the shit. The night was going good until Ron got a call from his girl and what ever they talked about had him in a sour mood for a bit.

  “What’s going on Ron?” I asked him.

  “She pissed off at me because in her words she never gets to see me until I’m horny or whenever I make time but that’s a lie because I was with her before I came to get you and she knew that we were hanging tonight.”

  “Ok well let’s cut this night short and you go fix things with your girl because I don’t have time for her kicking both our ass.”

  “Man fuck that, she will be just fine, I’m not about to keep catering to her bullshit every time she gets in one her moods.” He said ordering another round of drinks.

  “You not gone learn until that girl murder yo ass but its your shot.” I said picking up my pool cue.

  The night went on and we cut the drinks off because Alton looked drunk as hell and Ron was getting there. I had an extra room at my house, but I wasn’t to sure about letting either one of them sleep over. Ron wasn’t going to stay any way if push came to shove, he was going to call his girl to come get him and I take his car home, but Alton I knew nothing about so that was a definite no on his part.

  “If this bitch sends me one more text, I’ma go over there and throw her phone in the middle of the street.” Ron said showing me all the text messages between him and her. I scrolled up reading the messages, but I went to far up and saw some pictures they sent each other. Let’s just say I see why she so paranoid because Ron had some serious meat down there.

  “Umm…... just drop me off at the house and you go be with your girl bruh.” I said reluctantly giving him his phone back.

  “I’m not ready to go and if you don’t wanna leave right now I can bring you home and let this nigga go get his shit together.” Alton said catching me off guard.

  “Jaye don’t like people knowing where he stays so we can just do this some other time.” Ron said drinking the last of his drink.

  “Nah it’s cool bruh, you go take care of that and call me later.” I said dapping him up.

  Ron left us at the Café while he went to go make sure his girl was good, no matter what I did I couldn’t shake the image of his dick out my head. It was the prettiest dick I had seen in a very long time, I know I shouldn’t have kept thinking about it, but I couldn’t help it.

  “You ready to go.” Alton said bringing me out of my thoughts.

  “Umm yea…... but can you drive because I don’t wanna spend the rest of my night laid up in a hospital room.” I said laughing.

  “Yea I got you, I aint that messed up.” He said laughing.

  We left out and made it to my house in one piece, I thought about it and there was no way I was going to let this dude drive home drunk. I told him that he could crash on the couch and leave in the morning when he woke up. I went into my room to get him an extra cover and some shorts to sleep in, when I went back into the living room this nigga had kicked off his shoes and was laying on the couch watching tv.

  “I got you a cover and some shorts to sleep in, there is food and drinks in the fridge as well, just don’t touch my cokes.” I said placing the stuff on the couch.

  “Or you can go get comfortable as well and pour us some more drinks, I know you got liquor in here.” He said smirking, against my better judgement I went and threw on some night clothes and walked back into the living room. He had changed into the shorts I gave him, but he didn’t have a shirt on, his body was on point and I was stuck in one spot staring at him. “What you looking at nigga?” he said laughing, I hung my down in embarrassment and walked into the kitchen. I poured us some drinks and walked in the living room.

  “Umm you need a shirt to put on?” I asked after handing him his drink.

  “Nah, I don’t like sleeping in shirts I feel like I’m being suffocated.” He said laughing.

  We started drinking and watching tv for a while, I looked at the time and it was now 3 in the morning. I stood up and staggered a lil bit from the drinks I consumed. I shook off the feelings, looked at his body one last time and started to walk to my room before he stopped me.

  “If you wanna look you don’t have sneak just look.” He said smiling. I was taken back by his comment, it caught me off guard to the point where I ran right into the wall.

  “You aint all that nigga but goodnight I’m going to bed.”

  “I guess weakling.” He said laughing.

  “Unlike you, I didn’t get much rest last night or when I got off so excuse me if I’m tired, now go to bed before I punch you in the face.” I said laughing.

  “Don’t get fucked up, but I hear ya take yo tired ass to bed.” I didn’t bother saying nothing back I just went to my room and laid across my bed.

  The thoughts of Ron’s dick flashed back to my mind as well as the comment that Alton made. Maybe I was drunk and overthinking things, but it sounded like he was flirting with me. the more I thought about it the more I had to find out what he meant by that comment. I got up and walked back into the living room where he was still finishing off the last of his drink.

  “What did you mean by the comment you made a few minutes ago?” I asked him standing in the door way.

  “Man, what yo drunk ass talking about?” He said laughing.

  “About me staring at your body.”

  “Oh, I meant that I noticed you staring at me a few times but when you saw me you tried to act like you wasn’t, so I said that if you wanted to look at me then just do it.” He said still laughing.

  “Whatever, I look at what I want and who I want so what’s it to you?”

  “It’s nothing to me, but I thought you was going to bed?”

  “I am why you wanna join me?” I said and almost slapped the hell out myself for saying that shit.

  “You probably would like that wouldn’t you?” He said laughing.

  “Whatever, goodnight Alton.” I said walking back to my room.

  I turned on my tv and laid under the covers, I couldn’t believe that I actually said that stupid shit to this dude. He didn’t go off on me but still I never said nothing like that to a straight guy before so that alone made me feel dumb as hell. I closed my eyes and began to fall asleep, a few seconds afterwards I heard my door open. When I opened my eyes, Alton was walking towards me, he didn’t say anything, he just walked to my bed and climbed in. before I could ask him what the hell he was doing he pressed his lips to mine and all rationality went out the window. Was this really happening? What am I thinking right now? How would this affect us at work? All these things went thru my mind, but my body had another mind of it’s on.

©unique creations 2018

#bxb #lgbt #unique creations #workplace lover #part 1 #short story #gay #nonfiction

[misssophiachase]

Klaroline au or canon + mind reading

Thanks nonnie,soooo sorry for the delay…Hope you like this take. 

Sweet Dreams

Tattoo your name across my heart…

London…

Klaus woke with a start, his eyes darting tothe bedside clock and the red numbers alerting him to the fact he was due atwork only hours later. 

His dream was all too vivid even in his nowconscious state. It was almost dawn and he was standing at a train stationwaiting on the platform, for what he wasn’t sure until she arrived. 

He could recall just how short of breath hefelt as she stepped off the express service and it wasn’t just because of thecold weather. She looked immaculate. Her blonde waves, blue eyes and creamyskin like fragile porcelain housed in a fitted, navy pantsuit complete with awhite, wide brimmed hat. 

“Where’s my driver?” She didn’t see him as shemade her way towards the doors, he tried to scream her name but nothing cameout. Every fiber in his being was telling him she was walking into a trap, butKlaus couldn’t stop her momentum. 

This wasn’t unusual, in fact he’d been readingher mind for years now. At first it was a thrilling experience, given hisstrong attraction, but as the premonitions increased so too did the emotionsand the danger. Klaus thought it was all just a weird and coincidentalcollection of images flashing through his mind, but after waking in a sweat,Klaus knew he needed to find her. Now.

Milan…

Caroline liked her freedom, travelling hadbecome an exciting adventure to boost her fashion career and her income. However, it had been decidedly tough given the numerous and restless dreamsshe’d woken from over the years. 

Yes, it was always him, cheeky dimples andcrimson lips. But Caroline thought it was only dreams and only because she knewhim growing up.  But the fact she could still see him present day anddealing with questionable clients was enough to raise a red flag. 

That particular morning she’d awoken, her skincovered in a thin sheen of sweat as she regained her bearings in her Milanhotel room. He was walking towards his tattoo parlor in central London but themasked assailants lay in wait. She wanted to stop the impending attack, even ifit was a dream, but the only way she could was to get up and try to change his direction.

She’d barely uttered two words to KlausMikaelson during High School, they didn’t exactly run in the same circles. Herolder brother Matt had been in the same year during high school. There was nodoubting Klaus Mikaelson was a rebel. Someone she’d been secretly attracted toever since but there was no way he’d ever look at the prom queen twice whichwas evidenced by her subsequent run-in with him after graduation.

Chicago…3 years earlier 

“Youwant a tattoo?” He asked, incredulously. She couldn’t miss the shiver heincited as his eyes flickered over her body “Let me guess, you want a crown,princess?”

“Stereotyping,how predictable. If this is how you greet everyone, I’m surprised you’re stillin business,” she drawled, taking a seat on the nearby chair. “And no, Idon’t want a crown.”

“Oh,I know,” he guessed. “A butterfly or a love heart?”

“Pleasetell me you don’t judge all your customers like this?”

“No,only the ones who are wasting my time pretending to want a tattoo.” 

“Howabout you shut up and give me this, there’s only so much yapping I can takewhen I’m paying for the privilege,” she growled, now lowering herself onto thetable. She couldn’t miss the way his eyebrows lifted curiously at her choice,but he didn’t respond just continued, an intrigued smile on his face.

“Yourwish is my command, princess,” she sent him an annoyed glance, slightly scaredknowing she was fully at his whim, lying on her stomach with her jeans pulleddown slightly so he could access her lower back. The fact his fingers wereplaying on her skin was messing with her composure.  

“Shutup,” she growled. “And if it’s not perfect, I have every intention oflodging a complaint with your supervisor.”

“Andthis is your way of proving you’re not a princess, love?”  

“Youreally need an instruction guide of how not to offend clientele, Mikaelson, includingthose insulting endearments,” Caroline hissed, trying to ignore just how goodhis fingers felt against her. She closed her eyes determined to remove him fromher mind. “Ouch.” 

“It’sjust a small prick, part of the experience,” Klaus explained, his hand brushingsoftly against her skin, while she was trying to ignore the feelings his closeproximity was causing. It was probably the longest thirty minutes of herlife trying to hide the arousal he was evoking.  

WhenCaroline had made the decision to get a tattoo, she couldn’t deny that a large part of herdecision was because of him. Klaus Mikaelson had invaded her day dreams for yearsand the thought of him drawing that design on her bare skin had quelled hernerves and here she was trying to regain her composure in such close proximity.

She couldn’t miss the flash of memories between them as he worked on the tattoo but Caroline decided to put that down to the attraction she felt for him knowing that as soon as she left there would no longer be a connection between them. 

 Milan…

The train platform was empty this time of the afternoon, Klaus knew he’d arrived hours too late but had no idea how to find her. Funny part about this whole mind reading thing was that it was intermittent at best. 

He searched his surroundings for any possible clue, then he saw it. A sparkling diamond stud glittering on the ground nearby. The exact same earring he’d spied in her ears only hours earlier. 

He picked it up, his fears only increasing at his discovery. At least his mind reading abilities were still intact but now he needed to find her. Caroline Forbes was so much more than his friend’s sister or the girl he tattooed all those years ago. She was his soulmate and if anything had happened to her, Klaus was going to kill who’d ever touched a hair on her beautiful head.

“Looking for me?” A melodic voice enquired, coming into view. She was as breathtaking as in his visions, her pink lips curving into a knowing smile.

“No, actually I was looking for a fashion designing, damsel in distress that had been kidnapped in this very place by a possible European spy ring.”

“Turns out they’re no match for yours truly.”

“Speaking in the third person, this is certainly the beginnings of an evil villain,” he teased. “And to think I was worried about you, love.”

“You and I both know that our visions are symptomatic of our feelings and you know exactly what I was feeling.”

“Kind of like sparking your fears of my safety so I wouldn’t turn up to work today?”

“What can I say? You’ve always hung out in the wrong crowds, Mikaelson.”

“I’ll take that as a sorry for manipulating your visions to suit your agenda,” Klaus drawled. 

“And saving you in the process.”

“You couldn’t help yourself,” he scoffed. “Looks like I returned the favour though too.” They held each other’s gaze, light blue eyes on dark. It had been so long since they’d seen each other in the flesh and it was overwhelming to say the least.

“What the hell did you do with that tattoo,” she murmured, their eyes still transfixed. It was the question that had gone unanswered for too long.

“I have no idea,” he breathed. “You wanted a wolf, something I already had in the same spot, but I had no idea it would…”

“Act like a portal into real life?” 

“Exactly. Between you and me, I have a feeling we’re going to need something huge to break this bond.”

“Laser therapy?” She gulped. “I may need more time to get used to that particular course of action.”

“Take all the time you need.” 

Turns out laser therapy was no longer required because these star crossed, ink lovers decided life together was too good and knowing what each other thought wasn’t such a bad thing.  In fact, they were still trying to outdo each other on a daily basis and lovingly called it their competitive nature whilst living happily ever after.

#ask #answered #thanks anon #great prompt #klaroline drabbles #misssophiachase #sweet dreams

[dfroza]

and there exists a True Book of Life

inscribed with names that are chosen to be in Light and in Love

who willingly choose to be as well by responding to the Spirit’s call to the heart

in Today’s reading from the Scriptures John continues with the writing of the book of Revelation

[Chapter 17]

One of the Seven Angels who carried the seven bowls came and invited me, “Come, I’ll show you the judgment of the great Whore who sits enthroned over many waters, the Whore with whom the kings of the earth have gone whoring, show you the judgment on earth dwellers drunk on her whorish lust.”

In the Spirit he carried me out in the desert. I saw a woman mounted on a Scarlet Beast. Stuffed with blasphemies, the Beast had seven heads and ten horns. The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet, festooned with gold and gems and pearls. She held a gold chalice in her hand, brimming with defiling obscenities, her foul fornications. A riddle-name was branded on her forehead: great babylon, mother of whores and abominations of the earth. I could see that the woman was drunk, drunk on the blood of God’s holy people, drunk on the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.

Astonished, I rubbed my eyes. I shook my head in wonder. The Angel said, “Does this surprise you? Let me tell you the riddle of the woman and the Beast she rides, the Beast with seven heads and ten horns. The Beast you saw once was, is no longer, and is about to ascend from the Abyss and head straight for Hell. Earth dwellers whose names weren’t written in the Book of Life from the foundation of the world will be dazzled when they see the Beast that once was, is no longer, and is to come.

“But don’t drop your guard. Use your head. The seven heads are seven hills; they are where the woman sits. They are also seven kings: five dead, one living, the other not yet here—and when he does come his time will be brief. The Beast that once was and is no longer is both an eighth and one of the seven—and headed for Hell.

“The ten horns you saw are ten kings, but they’re not yet in power. They will come to power with the Scarlet Beast, but won’t last long—a very brief reign. These kings will agree to turn over their power and authority to the Beast. They will go to war against the Lamb but the Lamb will defeat them, proof that he is Lord over all lords, King over all kings, and those with him will be the called, chosen, and faithful.”

The Angel continued, “The waters you saw on which the Whore was enthroned are peoples and crowds, nations and languages. And the ten horns you saw, together with the Beast, will turn on the Whore—they’ll hate her, violate her, strip her naked, rip her apart with their teeth, then set fire to her. It was God who put the idea in their heads to turn over their rule to the Beast until the words of God are completed. The woman you saw is the great city, tyrannizing the kings of the earth.”

The Book of Revelation, Chapter 17 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 28th chapter of 2nd Chronicles that documents the life & times of King Ahaz:

[King Ahaz]

Ahaz was twenty years old when he became king and reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem. He didn’t live right in the eyes of God; he wasn’t at all like his ancestor David. Instead he followed in the track of Israel in the north, even casting metal figurines for worshiping the pagan Baal gods. He participated in the outlawed burning of incense in the Valley of Ben Hinnom and—incredibly!—indulged in the outrageous practice of “passing his sons through the fire,” a truly abominable thing he picked up from the pagans God had earlier thrown out of the country. He also joined in the activities of the neighborhood sex-and-religion shrines that flourished all over the place.

God, fed up, handed him over to the king of Aram, who beat him badly and took many prisoners to Damascus. God also let the king of Israel loose on him and that resulted in a terrible slaughter: Pekah son of Remaliah killed 120,000 in one day, all of them first-class soldiers, and all because they had deserted God, the God of their ancestors. Furthermore, Zicri, an Ephraimite hero, killed the king’s son Maaseiah, Azrikam the palace steward, and Elkanah, second in command to the king. And that wasn’t the end of it—the Israelites captured 200,000 men, women, and children, besides huge cartloads of plunder that they took to Samaria.

God’s prophet Oded was in the neighborhood. He met the army when it entered Samaria and said, “Stop right where you are and listen! God, the God of your ancestors, was angry with Judah and used you to punish them; but you took things into your own hands and used your anger, uncalled for and irrational, to turn your brothers and sisters from Judah and Jerusalem into slaves. Don’t you see that this is a terrible sin against your God? Careful now; do exactly what I say—return these captives, every last one of them. If you don’t, you’ll find out how real anger, God’s anger, works.”

Some of their Ephraimite leaders—Azariah son of Jehohanan, Berekiah son of Meshillemoth, Jehizkiah son of Shallum, and Amasa son of Hadlai—stood up against the returning army and said, “Don’t bring the captives here! We’ve already sinned against God; and now you are about to compound our sin and guilt. We’re guilty enough as it is, enough to set off an explosion of divine anger.”

So the soldiers turned over both the captives and the plunder to the leaders and the people. Personally designated men gathered the captives together, dressed the ones who were naked using clothing from the stores of plunder, put shoes on their feet, gave them all a square meal, provided first aid to the injured, put the weak ones on donkeys, and then escorted them to Jericho, the City of Palms, restoring them to their families. Then they went back to Samaria.

At about that time King Ahaz sent to the king of Assyria asking for personal help. The Edomites had come back and given Judah a bad beating, taking off a bunch of captives. Adding insult to injury the Philistines raided the cities in the foothills to the west and the southern desert and captured Beth Shemesh, Aijalon, and Gederoth, along with Soco, Timnah, and Gimzo, with their surrounding villages, and moved in, making themselves at home. Arrogant King Ahaz, acting as if he could do without God’s help, had unleashed an epidemic of depravity. Judah, brought to its knees by God, was now reduced to begging for a handout. But the king of Assyria, Tiglath-Pileser, wouldn’t help—he came instead and humiliated Ahaz even more by attacking and bullying him. Desperate, Ahaz ransacked The Temple of God, the royal palace, and every other place he could think of, scraping together everything he could, and gave it to the king of Assyria—and got nothing in return, not a bit of help.

But King Ahaz didn’t learn his lesson—at the very time that everyone was turning against him, he continued to be against God! He offered sacrifices to the gods of Damascus. He had just been defeated by Damascus; he thought, “If I worship the gods who helped Damascus, those gods just might help me, too.” But things only went from bad to worse: first Ahaz in ruins and then the country. He cleaned out The Temple of God of everything useful and valuable, boarded up the doors of The Temple, and then went out and set up pagan shrines for his own use all over Jerusalem. And not only in Jerusalem, but all over Judah—neighborhood shrines for worshiping any and every god on sale. And was God ever angry!

The rest of Ahaz’s infamous life, all that he did from start to finish, is written in the Royal Annals of the Kings of Judah and Israel. When Ahaz died, they buried him in Jerusalem, but he was not honored with a burial in the cemetery of the kings. His son Hezekiah was the next king.

The Book of 2nd Chronicles, Chapter 28 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, february 25 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons that looks at the “invisibility” of God:

Although the Name of God is not explicitly mentioned in the Book of Esther, the story is essentially about revelation, that is, the disclosure of God's Presence despite His apparent concealment. The phrase hester panim (הֶסְתֵר פָּנִים) means "hiding of face" and is often used when discussing the divine providence. God's plan is being fulfilled, step-by-step, even if it is hidden within the "natural" world of human beings and their choices (Jer. 10:23; Prov. 21:1). The LORD is Ha’mashgiach (i.e., הַמַּשְׁגִיחַ, the supervisor) of all things - from the motions of subatomic particles to the great events of the cosmos. He not only calls each star by its own name (Psalm 147:4), but knows each particular lily and sparrow (Matt. 6:28-30, 10:29). Indeed, each person is under the direct, personal supervision of God Himself (הַשְׁגָּחָה פְּרָטִית) -- whether he or she is conscious of this or not. As Yeshua said, even the hairs on your head are all numbered (Matt. 10:30).

The Apostle Paul taught that God “chose us [εκλεγομαι] in the Messiah before the foundation of the world” (Eph. 1:4). God called you by name -- before He created the very universe itself. “God has chosen you from the beginning for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and faith in the truth” (2 Thess. 2:13). God loves you with an “everlasting love” (אַהֲבַת עוֹלָם) and with lovingkindness (i.e., chesed, חֶסֶד) draws you to Himself (Jer. 31:3). There is no fear in God’s sovereign and irresistible love for your soul (1 John 4:18). “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31). [Hebrew for Christians]

2.24.21 • Facebook

and another set of posts that point to the inner Light of the Temple that reflects upon the True illumination of the heart (inside, Anew)

The holy menorah (מְנוֹרָה) was formed from one piece of pure beaten gold weighing 3,000 shekels of silver (nearly 100 pounds). It was a highly decorative work that had seven branches (with seven lamps), nine flower blooms, eleven fruits, and twenty two cups. The light from the Menorah was a spiritual light. It was not seen from the outside of the Tabernacle, but only while inside the holy chamber, before the holy place of sacrificial atonement. It enabled service to God to be performed, though it was not a light to be used for profane purposes. Notice that the six lamps faced the central lamp -- a picture of Yeshua, the Light of the World whose arms and legs were “hammered” for our sins.... He is the suffering servant (shamash) who lightens everyone in the world. He is the center, the supporting trunk for the other branches (John 15:5).

The physical light came from the burning of pure olive oil - a symbol of anointing and the Holy Spirit (רוּחַ הַקּדֶשׁ). It was kindled by the hand of a man of peace and humility. Likewise, when we are given light to behold the sacrifice of Yeshua for our atonement (כַּפָּרָה), we are filled with the divine light (John 8:12; 1 John 1:7, Eph. 5:8). When we come to the cross, we can behold the truth of God’s unfailing love that draws us to be united with Him. [Hebrew for Christians]

2.24.21 • Facebook

Our Torah portion for this week includes discussion about the menorah (מְנוֹרָה), the light source of the Holy Place... The menorah symbolizes light, growth, unity, and the Tree of Life (עֵץ הַחַיִּים). All its intricate parts (i.e., its seven branches with seven lamps, nine flower blooms, eleven fruits, and twenty two cups) were formed from a single piece of pure gold (זָהָב טָהוֹר) that was "beaten" or "hammered" into shape (Exod. 25:36). This is a symbol of the divine substance (gold has a hint of the color of blood combined with the pure white). Note further that the menorah sat upon a three-legged base - a hint of hashilush ha-kadosh (the triune nature of the Godhead that is the Root of all reality). This is another image of the concept of echdut - unity in plurality found in the Torah. Just as the many parts of the Mishkan were put together to form "one Tabernacle" (הַמִּשְׁכָּן אֶחָד), and the prophet Ezekiel was told to join together two sticks to form "one tree" (עֵץ אֶחָד, see Ezek. 37:17), so the many parts of the menorah were likewise fashioned to form "one menorah" (Exod. 25:36). Moreover, the Torah itself is made up of five separate Books, but it is nevertheless one Torah, just as the children of Israel were divided into Kohanim (priests), Levites, and Israelites, though together they form one nation... Yeshua likewise taught us there would be one flock formed from both Jews and Gentiles, having one Shepherd (John 10:16).

The seven lamps of the menorah were lit daily, "from evening until morning," starting from the central lamp (the shamash) and then moving right to left (Exod. 27:21). According to the Talmud (Shabbat 22b), while all the lamps received the same amount of olive oil, the "westernmost" lamp (according to Rashi, the center lamp, due to its orientation) miraculously never ran out of oil, even though it was kindled first in the sequence. In other words, when Aaron would rekindle the lamps every evening, he found the shamash still burning, so he simply refilled it with oil and trimmed its wick. This miracle is also said to have occurred during the Temple period, though it abruptly ended about 40 years before the destruction of the Second Temple (c. 30 AD), after the death of Yeshua the Messiah, the true Servant and Branch of the LORD. As it is attested in the Talmud: "Our Rabbis taught: During the last forty years before the destruction of the Temple the lot ['For the Lord'] did not come up in the right hand; nor did the crimson-colored strap become white; nor did the westernmost light shine" (Yoma 39a).

The Scriptures declare that God is light, and Yeshua is the true Light of God (1 John 1:5; John 1:9). The light from the menorah reveals spiritual light. It was not seen from the outside of the Tabernacle, but only while inside the holy chamber, before the holy place of sacrificial atonement. The light itself came from the burning of pure and beaten olive oil - a symbol of anointing and the Holy Spirit (רוּחַ הַקּדֶשׁ). It enabled service to God to be performed, though it was not a light to be used for profane purposes. Notice that the six lamps faced the central lamp -- a picture of Yeshua, the Light of the World whose arms and legs were “hammered” for our sins.... He is the suffering servant (shamash) who lightens everyone in the world; He is the center, the supporting trunk for the other branches (John 15:5). [Hebrew for Christians]

2.24.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

February 25, 2021

The God Who Provides

“Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.” (Romans 15:13)

God’s provisions for the believer include far more than physical necessities. These are indicated by seven beautiful titles ascribed to Him in the New Testament.

The God of love: First of all, we need love, and “God is love” (1 John 4:8). Then “the fruit of the Spirit is love” in our lives (Galatians 5:22) because He Himself is “the God of love and peace” (2 Corinthians 13:11).

The God of all grace: God saves us by His grace, and then we need to “grow in grace” (2 Peter 3:18). This we can do because “the God of all grace...hath called us unto his eternal glory” (1 Peter 5:10).

The God of peace: He satisfies the need for peace of soul in the believer’s life, and He is called “the God of peace” five times in the New Testament (Romans 15:33; 16:20; Philippians 4:9; 1 Thessalonians 5:23; Hebrews 13:20).

The God of all comfort: Our God is called “the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort,” because He “comforteth us in all our tribulation,” thus enabling us also to provide comfort to others ”by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

The God of patience: We do “have need of patience” (Hebrews 10:36), and this need also is supplied by “the God of patience and consolation” (Romans 15:5).

The God of glory: It was “the God of glory” who first called Abraham (Acts 7:2), and through the Word we also “are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

The God of hope: By His Spirit He fills us with joy and peace, with power, and abundant hope—blessing us “with all spiritual blessings...in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3). HMM

[kokobussy]

The New Guy

summary - you don’t know anything about computers, but what you do know is the new guy is pretty cute.

warnings - dom!minseok x reader, humiliation, breath play, exhibitionism, deep throat, sloppy blow job, consensual light slapping

Finally got around to making a sequel. It’s here

“Have you seen the new guy?” Sehun leans against your desk with a glint in his eye and a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. Not too long ago the two of you were interns at the company, grabbing coffees for your supervisors and meticulously filing away important documents together. As your careers advanced and old co-workers left, the two of you were nearly inseparable.

“New guy?”

“He’s the new IT guy. A little on the short end, but his eyes are to die for?”

You’d heard this one before. It’s not that Sehun is the office slut, he’s just...the office slut.

There’s no shame in sleeping around as long as safe sex is thoroughly practiced. At this point in both of your careers, Sehun’s slept with almost everyone in the office including you. It wasn’t planned at all by either side, just a spontaneous fuck during a Queer as Folk marathon on Sehun’s couch.

Sure the sex was great, but your friendship was even better and you wanted to cherish that.

“What’s his name?” you ask feigning interest as you scroll through a colorful Buzzfeed quiz. Sehun rolls his eyes,”How the hell should I know? I saw him. He’s cute and he just might be your type.” Your co-worker and best friend stares at you pointedly before you can even dismiss him altogether. “Look, I know you better than anyone else and you’ve been going through a lot lately. Just... treat yourself.”

Once you realize Sehun isn’t going to let this go, you sigh and finally turn away from the computer once the quiz reveals you’re more of a Ross than a Joey. “He just started working here, Sehun, it’s inappropriate.” Sehun scowls in response and takes a sip from the mug,”You sound like Junmyeon.”

“That’s Mr. Kim when we’re in the office, Sehun, you don’t know who’s listening.”

Kim Junmyeon is one of the top dogs that works here at the company. You’ve only seen him at huge holiday parties from afar, in passing in the elevator a few times, and once when you picked up coffee in the lobby of your building a little earlier than usual. You mostly “saw” Junmyeon through impersonal mass emails clearly written by his secretary. He seems like a natural born leader, an intelligent man with charisma and a great smile. Someone who-

“Actually he prefers daddy.”

There’s a pause as Sehun looks around the office to let that statement process and takes yet another too long sip of his coffee, eyes pretending to find interest over at Byun’s cubicle once he reveals he’s blown up his own spot.

“Sehun.”

“Hmm?”

“You slept with Mr. Kim?”

“Uh,” and before you can berate him or ask him any more questions Sehun is gone, suddenly finding interest in getting those reports sent out at his desk.

Before you can throw staples at him and demand more information, your supervisor makes her way around the office to check up on everyone’s work progress. So instead of drawing attention to yourself or starting another quiz, you bring up the spreadsheets that you should’ve been working on and pretend to work diligently for the next few minutes.

Those next few minutes actually end up being on solid productive hour, the spreadsheets actually completed before the end of the day. You decide to reward yourself with a few more Buzzfeed quizzes and just as you’re about to start clicking, you hear a soft,”Is this computer #425?”

You look up to see a shirt tucked into grey slacks. You look up further to see a man with long black hair and large excitable eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses. The man smiles once you stare up at his face, “I’m Minseok! I’m with the IT department and I got a call about a virus being on this floor’s servers. I just need to look over your computer for a second.” Virus? IT department? Your computer is being a little slow, but not virus slow. You look over to the pink sticky note on the cubicle wall, reading the numbers “411”, and look back at the cute tech guy. He’s too cute to pass up. Way too cute. “Yeah,” you say slowly,”this is 425.” Minseok smiles, trusting you entirely,”do you mind scooting over?”

You stand promptly, moving out of the way so he can sit down in your seat. “I’m Y/N by the way. I’m not sure what I did, but my computer is super slow,” you say desperate for small talk,”A lot of other people have been complaining too.” Have you talked to anyone today besides Sehun and now Minseok? No. Were other people actually complaining about the lagging computers? Probably.

He nods solemnly, typing things you’ve never seen before into a small black window now on your computer with green colored font. It’s only then that you notice the 16 Buzzfeed tabs just behind that black window and you know in your heart Minseok has seen them, but isn’t saying anything. “We think someone accidentally uploaded a Trojan that spread throughout the serves. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

You huff as you lean against your desk to get a better look at what exactly Minseok is doing, not that you’d understand anyway,”Probably Kris. He watches porn on his lunch break when he thinks no one is paying attention, but you didn’t hear that from me.” Minseok stifles a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his grin before returning to the keyboard.  

That laughter makes Sehun look up to see what’s going on at your desk. Once he sees who is it, he waves his hands in a subtle yet jerky way that immediately grabs your attention from across the office. Sehun holds up a hand to cover his mouth from Baekhyun’s prying eyes over at the desk next to him and mouths,”That’s him.”

This goes on for a few minutes, you trying to figure out what exactly Sehun is saying and Sehun getting more and more aggravated by the minute, but when Minseok suddenly gets up and grabs his messenger bag your attention is entirely on him again.

“We’re gonna be working on all of the computers tonight so this’ll be fixed by tomorrow morning.” Minseok says his goodbyes, eyes lingering on your form little too long, and heads back down the hallway.

As soon as he's gone, Sehun jogs over from his desk and smacks you on the shoulder,"You stupid asshole, tell me everything."

It’s around 10pm when you rush back into your office building. You'd been out getting drinks with Sehun when you remembered the important documents you left on your desk for your presentation at the end of the week. As you walk into the office space and make your way over to your cubicle, you see a figure sitting there typing away furiously at the black screen. "Minseok?"

He nearly falls out of his chair from the closeness of your voice, just behind him, and shouts almost accusingly,”Y/N?”

You blink before laughing,”yeah sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The two of you talk for a while, nonsensical things and general topics that lead to heated conversations about how underrated frozen yogurt is, and you soon lose track of time. Somehow in that time, you didn’t notice Minseok’s flushed face or his slightly unbuttoned shirt. You didn’t notice it until Minseok shifted just a little, fingers fidgeting with the buttons on his iphone and consequently turning the sound on.

High pitched moans and the unmistakable sound of skin slapping skin fill the once quiet office. Minseok’s horrified, scrambling to get rid of the porn playing on his phone, but you can’t help squeezing your legs and trying to ease the ache between your legs. It’s hot. Him blushing his hardest and giving you apology after apology is hot. Maybe Sehun is right, maybe you do need to treat yourself.

Minseok keeps apologizing, unable to even look you in the eye and realize you’re taking off your jacket and kicking off your heels. By the time he notices, finally looks at you, you’re kneeling on the ground and spreading his thighs so you can settle between them.

Minseok looks at you in confusion as he tries to understand your intentions,”What are you doing?”

You run a quick hand through your hair, tucking as much of your bangs as you can behind your ears and smirk up at him. You lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet. Soft enough to give him a chance to pull away and say no to the whole thing. Sweet enough to reassure that you’re okay with it on your end. Minseok kisses you back tentatively and keeps his hands in his lap. Your tongues wrestle for a while, getting more and more aggressive as Minseok gets more comfortable. He groans into your mouth, struggling to figure out where to place his hands until you guide them to your chest. But the ache between your legs gets to be too much and all you can think about is sucking him off, helping him with his little problem.

So you get back down on your knees and unbuckle his belt, maybe pulling off pants a little more rougher than you should’ve.

Minseok shakes his head, trying to look past you for any movement in the office,”What if we get caught? My co-workers are in the break room on this floor.”

“We won’t get caught.”

The confidence in your voice makes him relax slightly, but only slightly, and you kiss his knee for some extra reassurance. Even with a few more kisses, your affection and vague explanation aren’t enough and the nervousness in Minseok’s voice rises.

“Y/N-”

“Minseok do you want this or not? If you don’t, I’ll stop right here.”

Minseok looks at you, really looks at you, trying to decide whether this is a good decision or not. You stare at his tented briefs peeking out of his pulled down slacks, biting your lip at the small spot of precum there, but you wait for him to voice any unwillingness first.

You look up at him, smiling as genuinely as you can, and Minseok finds some sort of comfort in it. Suddenly he nods very quickly, hands going to pull his briefs and pants down a little more. While the idea of minseok wearing tighty whities is precious, you need to get a verbal okay before you go any further.

“Hold on, Romeo, I need to hear you say it.”

“I...want it. Yeah I want it.”

After hearing his consent you’re ready to go, grabbing a hold of his cock and pumping it to full hardness. You try not to stare too long at it, smiling when it twitches from being out in the cold, but your eyes always find their way back.

Minseok watches you watch his cock, worry weighing heavily on his brow. Were you disappointed? Was the magic over so soon? He’s a small guy, a whopping 5'7 if he stands on his tippy toes, and his... size reflects that. Just as he's about to tuck himself away and die from embarrassment, you blow on it gently and look up at him with absolute awe in your eyes. Minseok chokes out a moan, hands hovering over your head before going to the sides of your chair for safe keeping.

With each kitten lick you give, his cock twitches more and more. He continues gripping the chair, glasses slightly askew, and letting out breathy moans. You can’t help but coo at the display,”You’re so cute!” Before he can reply, you suck roughly at the patch of skin just below his tip.

Minseok bites his lip, trying his hardest to hold back a groan whenever your tongue flicks particularly hard, but then you gently rub the tip of his cock along your bottom teeth and he whimpers especially loud. “Please,” he begs more to himself than to you,”They’ll hear you.” But then the break room door opens and a figure jogs down the hallway yelling,”Xiumin!” Before Minseok can even process he’s about to be caught and consequently fired, you’re under your desk with a finger pressed to your mouth when he looks down at you in pure panic. He shuffles the chair towards the desk, making sure to hide you as well as his dick, and continues to finish up the code he was working on.

The figure jogs up, revealing a bubbly yet winded chen,”Minseok, are you sure you don’t want to play? Minhyuk’s gonna be the Dungeon Master instead of Kyungsoo. We voted him out.” Minseok smiles up at his co-worker and tries to hide the quivering in his voice,”I should probably finish up here first before I join you guys.” He makes it through sounding pretty okay and because of that Chen wants to talk. He talks about things you don’t know at all, about LAN parties and Dungeons and Dragons. Minseok starts getting comfortable, enjoying Chen’s company as if he forgot you’re under the table ready to blow him.

At the sight of Minseok’s cock softening and the realization of you being ignored, you grab Minseok’s balls and roll them in your hand with a practiced ease. They’re soft in your hand, smooth and lightly tanned, and you can’t help but take one in your mouth. He continues talking and sort of triumphs despite the breathy air he leaves on certain words. Chen is none the wiser, still talking to Minseok about Magic the Gathering or WOW or something equally nerdy. You can see his cock twitch from the slight stimulation, a jerky bob that seeks some sort of friction as it comes back to life. You suck at the tip gently, digging your tongue into the slit and only stopping when Minseok lets out a startled moan at the sudden change in sensation.

Chen picks up on this and frowns uneasily,”You okay?”

You pull him out of your mouth, pulling his cock to full hardness, and Minseok panics like he’s been caught.  Chen gets curious, leaning over just the slightest to see if Minseok is really okay. The smallest tech guy nods quickly, a light flush claiming his cheeks,”N-no I’m okay! I’ll meet you guys there in a sec!” A second goes by. Then two. Then three. Chen shrugs and grabs a handful of jelly beans from the bowl on your desk before heading back to the break room and closing the door behind him.

Minseok pulls away from the desk and stares down at you, blushing when you smirk up at him. "Fuck my face, Minseok." "W-what?" You don't make any attempt to repeat yourself or even look ashamed of what you said. You love this, the flustered stammering as Minseok tries to wrap his head around what's happening.

Before he can ask anymore questions, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out and wait. Minseok can only stare on at your gesture, a bead of precum bubbling out of his tip at the display. "Hands in my hair," you mumble before sticking your tongue back out. But something changes in Minseok so suddenly you almost miss it.

There's a glint in his eye now, an overwhelming darkness that makes your core ache. He grabs your hair roughly, shocking the both of you at the aggression, and places his cock in your mouth. He holds you in place, small fist grabbing with all his might, and watches you moan around his cock. But he doesn't let you bob anymore, doesn't let you tease him with kitten licks and soft moans. He does keep a firm hand in your hair, does let the weight of his cock rest on your tongue so you're familiar with the length, does let the tip lightly touch the back of your throat just enough to make you subtly wince.

You rest your hands on his thighs just to have some sort of leverage as he holds you there, but that small hand in your hair let's go and slaps you before grabbing your chin and squeezing. "Hands behind your back." Oh? You blink once, twice, trying to understand where the hell this attitude came from. This new confidence that Minseok gave off makes you wetter than you've ever been. His shy demeanor is completely gone now as he waits for you to follow his command.

But that soft kind nature comes back briefly and checks in to make sure you're alright,"Green means go, red means stop. Where are you?" He pulls his cock out of your mouth, waiting for you to fully and verbally respond to the situation. You bite your lip, way more turned on than before at the sudden kindness,"Green."

Minseok looks over you, one hand grabbing your hair while the other unbuttons your blouse down three buttons, and nearly cums in his slacks at the sight of your smeared lipstick. "Minseo-"

There's another sting at your cheek, your head turning to the side before you truly realize what happened. "Sir," he corrects, eyes never wavering from the swell of your breasts peeking out of your blouse. You arch your back slightly, making your breasts swell even more in the open top,"S-sir..."

Minseok nods, pressing a harsh biting kiss on your lips before saying,"I only say orders once. If you don't obey the very first time you get punished. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Minseo~ah!"

He doesn't slap your face this time, but he does slap your breast, squeezing it harshly until you say,"Yes, Sir! Ah~ I'm sorry, Sir!"

The threat of another slap makes you put your hands behind your back immediately and the gentle caress of his hand on your cheek is what makes you keep them there. For a brief moment Minseok kisses your forehead just to let you know how well you're doing.

He holds his cock, smearing the precum collected there across your lips,"You look so filthy, baby. I bet you'd look so pretty covered in my cum." You greedily suck at the head, bracing yourself when he pulls you off his cock with a pop. The lingering taste of salty bitterness makes your daring move worthwhile. You need more and you'll do anything to get it.

"God look at you," Minseok starts as he slowly but surely slides his length into your mouth,"you're so desperate for it. I bet you're the office's little cockwhore huh?"

He sets up a brutal pace, not really giving you a chance to catch a breath or even comprehend what's going on. For a minute you're taken aback by the sheer force behind his thrusts. Despite his shy demeanor this definitely isn't Minseok's first rodeo. You can only moan around his length and try not to choke as his thrusts grow faster and more accurate, making you gag and spittle. "I bet all you do is suck cock all day long in this office with a belly full of cum," Minseok grunts as you look up at him with watery eyes,"Keep looking at me, baby. This is what you wanted right? To be treated like the dirty slut you really are?"

Tears stream down your face as your gag reflex is tested beyond what you've experienced in your past sexual endeavors. It isn't the size of Minseok, but the accuracy of his hips and the ability to pivot at a speed you've never seen. Minseok pulls you onto his dick until your nose is buried in a nestle of neatly trimmed black curls and watches you closely. You cry out of reflex, your body tenses and flexes as you're pushed on the tippy top of too much, and yet you still try to flicker some part of your tongue against some part of his cock.

Something happens that you never thought could happen.

While Minseok avoided touching you (entirely on purpose) you'd managed to feel the blossoms of orgasms anyway through this sloppy as ever blowjob. And now with Minseok seemingly ensuring that he makes you pass out with his cock, you can't help but moan as an all too familiar pleasure racks through your core in waves. You shudder through each wave, a long moan muffled by weight on your tongue. "Did you cum from sucking my cock? Well," Minseok smirks,"You're gonna be my little cum dump from now on. You like the sound of that? You're gonna be my little cum dump now. My little cock sleeve."

With several more thrusts Minseok is coming down your throat with a grunt. Wave after wave of his cum fills your mouth and you can't help but moan then slowly swallow when he pulls away. "Open your mouth," he hums as he holds onto your chin. You obey him immediately, sticking out your tongue once again to show that the substance is all gone. Minseok kisses you fiercely, pulling you into his lap and holding you close,"You did so well”.

You're kind of a mess, boobs hanging out of your half opened shirt and completely dazed. There isn't much Minseok can do in an office for aftercare, but he tries his hardest. He fixes your clothes and orders takeout to be delivered to the building. While waiting for takeout to come, Chen returns to find his D&D partner,”Are you ready y-...oh.”

You instinctively runs your fingers through your hair, just to make sure everything is in order, but when Chen motions to your mouth you're a little confused. Minseok glances at you too, a blush dusting his cheeks as soon as he sees what Chen is slowly smirking at. Then it clicks. Your lipstick. “When did you get here, Y/N?”

You grab the compact mirror in your desk and wipe off the smeared lipstick while Minseok explains. “We...we got food and...it got all over,” he gestures to his mouth in a circular motion.

Great. Thanks Minseok.

“So,” Chen starts as he looks between the two of you,”you came over and got food in the span of 30 minutes when I visited you and asked you to come hang out with us.” Minseok nods with a nervous smile,”Y/N is working late too so she brought food with her. Go figure.”

Chen’s smirk soon grows,”I’m glad you're settling in well, Minseok. You already making friends. Anyway, I'll leave you guys alone. We're heading to the next floor in 20 minutes since this floor is entirely wiped,” and when you make a face of confusion Chen answers without really looking at you, his eyes staring directly at Minseok with a hint of a mysterious emotion behind them,”the computers have different servers on each level. I'll see you in a bit Minseok.” With that Chen leaves, not really giving Minseok much time to respond, but the nerd answers with a soft yet excitable “Okay!” anyway.

You stand up right after he leaves, grabbing your coat and the files you had long forgotten. Minseok blinks up at you, his innocent eyes behind those thick glasses almost making you stop entirely,”Where are you going?”

You ruffle his hair, too busy making sure everything you need is in your purse before putting on your jacket,”I'm heading home, babe. I'm not gonna get any work done with you here distracting me.” Throwing your purse over your shoulder you lean down and place a gentle kiss on his lips, giggling at the way he subtly follows you when you pull away,”I'll text you okay?”

Minseok nods and tries his hardest to hide the disappointment on his face as you jot your number down on a bright yellow sticky note. You kiss him again before making your exit, the click of your heels following you down the hall to the elevator. Minseok still can't believe any of this happened on his second week of work, still can't believe that someone as hot as you would just randomly blow him after hours.

He hopes, really really hopes, that his texting you as soon as you leave his sight doesn't seem desperate. But as excited as he is, Minseok can't help but be a little confused at your behavior. You had every intention to stay, taking off your heels and cuddling with Minseok as much as you could in your office chair, and you seemed fine. As soon as you started speaking with Chen, you suddenly left in a hurry almost running out of the building. Were you simply embarrassed because the two of you had been found out or was there something else?

#noonanet #minseok #kim minseok #xiumin #kim xiumin #exo smut #xiumin smut #minseok smut #exo scenarios #exo #xiumin scenarios #minseok scenarios #minseok/reader #xiumin/reader #baekhyun #chanyeol #suho #chen #xiuchen #kyungsoo #do #jongdae

[penguin-cafe]

Yearbook AU (WIP)

WIP #3: Here’s a yearbook au idea I had going on a long while back! I’m not sure I really like this one, tbh -- it’s definitely not my best, but I’m posting it anyway. enjoy!

---

He had been too busy, too afraid, to even consider joining the Yearbook staff in his first year of High School.

Added to that, he actually found he couldn't join until at least taking a class on Journalistic writing beforehand, so really, what was he even doing here, standing in front of a wooden door at the corner of the school, reading ‘Yearbook and Newspaper Clubs first meeting today at 3:00 p.m. sharp!’?

Yamaguchi Tadashi waited until his last year to stand in front of this door, had mustered the courage to speak with the supervisor of the club at the last second when being handed a flyer, and had even almost forgotten to turn in his application form out of nerves.

In all actuality, the one thing that had truly prompted Tadashi to stand in front of the Journalism room door at 3:03 p.m. and not flee was Takeda-sensei.

Only two days earlier, upon noticing him in the hallway, the teacher had eagerly waved and ushered Tadashi into his small office with writing sprawled over the walls from messages of past students. Tadashi remembered feeling claustrophobic in the tiny space and had asked about the messages. Takeda-sensei had only laughed it off and explained that he had taken over as the new Journalism teacher for the year and that the writing had been there for the previous teacher who had quit after a baby and a prospective job working at a community college had shown up. On top of that, there was her hip injury after she'd crashed her motorcycle into the side of her neighbors house. Takeda-sensei said she was such a charitable woman with a carefree spirit, but all Tadashi could imagine in his head was a woman with twelve tattoos, a baby strapped to her chest, both wearing camo and warpaint, as she flew her motorcycle down a winding dirt road.

‘So, I saw your application!’ Takeda - sensei had said, a grin spreading across his face. Tadashi scratched the back of his head and made a sheepish smile.

‘Yes, I… I understand if I'm not qualified for it-- I mean, I never took Journalistic Writing 101. And-- And, I don't know how to work a camera, really, I'm sorry for wasting your time--’

Takeda-sensei had only fixed his glasses and widened his gaze.

‘Oh no no no, I'm not rejecting you. You're able to join just fine! I've contacted your other teachers and they've commended your work ethic. As for not being able to work a camera, that's fine, I can teach you all you need to know and there's other kids in the club who can show you the ropes.’

Tadashi remembered how confused he was. There was a pool of regret rumbling in his stomach, causing his throat to dry. He really hadn't anticipated to actually be accepted into the club. It was just a nice ‘what if’ at best.

Takeda only smiled and clasped his shoulder.

‘We have our first meeting of the year on Wednesday. 3 p.m. We like to stay punctual, so you'll need to be there on time, if not earlier, or else you won't be let in. That's just the rules.

‘Anyway, I really hope you'll make it. The staff will be excited to have a new member join the team.’

Tadashi can feel the heat rise to his cheeks as he looks at his shoes planted in front of the clubroom door, hearing the chatter of voices from within but unable to join. He supposes it’s for the best. He would probably mess up their routine, interfere with some system they had set. He doesn't know how to operate a camera, let alone work with photoshop, or anything. He’s never even taken a single writing class as well, so he asks himself again, twice in his head, why would Takeda-sensei ever even think about having him join?

Tadashi bites his lip, sucks in a breath, deciding to hide out in the library until after school activities were over, that way his mom wouldn't ask about his early appearance at home.

“Are you here for Newspaper or Yearbook?” A voice asks behind him and Tadashi makes a small gasp, hand gripping the strap of his backpack as his gaze falls on a tall blonde, eyes dull and face quizzical.

Tadashi shifts.

“Yearbook… but I came a little late. To the meeting.”

The blonde looks behind him at the door with chattering voices and takes out his phone.

“If it's your first time, he won't count anything against you. Move aside, someone's coming to open the door.”

Tadashi, feeling clumsy and confused, looks to the boy in front of him and then turns around too quickly, trying to move away from the door right when it’s thrown open by a short redhead.

“Do you at least have a pass this time?” The boy looks up at the blonde, a large frown on his face until his eyes wander and land on Tadashi. His face then splits into a grin, eyes bright.

“Oh hey! Are you here for Yearbook or Newspaper?” The boy stands up straight, seems to bounce in his step as he moves aside for him and the blonde to come in.

“Uh, Yearbook,” Tadashi says. He's never noticed how low his voice was before, or maybe it was just that he was comparing it to the volume of the redhead’s booming one.

He shuts the door behind them and Tadashi notes how cold the room is as well as the amount of paper scattered on desks, the whiteboard covered with scrawled drawings and drafts of ideas. He notices a blonde girl talking with a dark haired boy at a couple of desks over. Well, she was talking, the boy just nodding along with a strained expression, as if trying to understand her brainstorming.

There’s a few other students in back, but Tadashi figures he wouldn't have to worry about them seeing as their side of the room was marked as ‘Newspaper Club meeting in session, Do Not Disturb!’

“I guess it's a good thing Tsukishima’s always late. You could have knocked! Takeda-sensei has a thing about being on time, but he's understanding. Oh, my name’s Hinata Shoyou.”

The boy named Shoyou holds out his hand and Tadashi shakes it.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

Shoyou grins and takes a seat at a nearby desk with papers littered atop. He fishes through the pile and hands Tadashi a blank sheet.

“Well, Yamaguchi you didn't miss much. Takeda-sensei had to leave early today, so we're just coming up with ideas for sectioning up the spreads.”

Tadashi hesitantly takes a seat next to him, eyes flashing to the others in the room, where the blonde girl and dark haired boy had separated and began to leaf through pages of older Yearbooks. The boy named Tsukishima had retired to the opposite end of the room, placing a set of white headphones to his ears and diligently putting post it notes to pages in a faded red Yearbook, pushing up his glasses as he did so.

“Oh, sorry for not introducing you. Everyone kinda gets into their zones around here. But, don't worry, we'll have an official meeting next week when Takeda-sensei isn't out sick. Then, he'll assign you your spreads.”

Tadashi nods to the boy, who seems as if he could talk endlessly about this, one foot on the edge of his seat, the other bouncing and ready to fly off.

“What is that?”

“What's what?”

“A spread?”

Shoyou beams and places his hands at his desk.

“Okay, so, a spread is an entire page-- So let's say, Takeda-sensei assigns you the Baseball page. You'd have to make-- well-- something that looks like this,” Shoyou hops from his desk to take the Yearbook from the dark haired boy’s grasp. He flips open to a random set of pages as the boy behind him yells. “See these two pages side by side? That's a whole spread, and you can design templates for them--”

“Dumbass, go get your own book!”

“Hold on a second, I'm borrowing it!”

“Give it back--” The boy leaps for Shoyou who holds the book behind his back with one hand and pushes at the boy's face with his other.

“No, I'm showing him what a spread is!”

Tadashi backes away from the two, who look almost ready to fight. He raises his brows.

“Um, guys! Remember Takeda-sensei said if you broke anything again--” The blonde girl speaks up, face contorted into a fearful expression. Tsukishima only lays his head against his hand.

“Let it go!”

“Let go of my arm!”

“Get your hand out of my face!”’

“Get your face away from my hand!”

Tadashi watched as Tsukishima rolls his eyes. The blonde girl bites her lip and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she scurries over to the Yearbook cabinet with the others. She smiles and huffs out a laugh at Tadashi.

“Don't worry. They'll usually just break it up after a bit… usually.”

Tadashi smiles back, makes an awkward laugh. “Sure…”

The girl nods then widens her eyes as if she'd forgotten her manners. “Oh! My name’s Yachi Hitoka, by the way! It's really nice to meet you and have you on staff!”

“He hasn't been appointed to a position yet,” Tsukishima reminds her, eyes scanning the text boxes of a Yearbook. Tadashi blinks at them both, trying to seem as if he had a clue.

“Ah, it's nice to meet you too. I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

Hitoka smiles. “Well, I really hope you can come to next week's meeting! Sorry this one didn't go… quite as expected. We usually have a really nice atmosphere! Oh, and I can't wait until we start to show you how to make templates, right Tsukishima?”

Hitoka clasps her hands together with a broad smile, but Tsukishima had left to the other side of the room to study while she'd been talking. It was at this time that Tadashi also realizes the room is quieter than before and turns his head to see the fighting duo fuming silently at their desks, flipping through pages as fast as they could and coming up with design ideas.

Hitoka laughs lightly. “See? They're more competitive than anything. I think it just brings out the best of them, though… in a way.

“Anyway! You can look through these Yearbooks here and just-- um-- write down anything you see that you like. And we try to incorporate that into a new book. Oh, and ask me if you have any questions-- I'm a little new to this too, but I'll be really happy to help!”

Tadashi nods as Hitoka beams a bright smile-- he finds that he very much likes her smile-- and hands him a pile of books, ranging from black and red colors to teal and white. He furrows his brows as he glances at a cover.

“‘Nekoma 2009’...,” he reads and looks up at Hitoka. “Are these Yearbooks from other schools?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot of them are.”

“Why?”

“Well… some schools win contests for their designs. And Nekoma’s concepts are always cool to draw ideas off of. Although, if I had to choose a favorite design template, I'd say Shiratorizawa 2011 was a really cool one! They coordinated their colors and had no empty space! It looked flawless!”

Tadashi feels his eyes spin from what she said. He nods along, but quickly feels he has nothing to contribute besides questions.

“Um… So, what about Karasuno’s then? How have our past Yearbooks looked?”

Hitoka bites her lip and gives a sheepish smile. “Well, Karasuno’s yearbooks have only… I mean, not that they weren't always good! We had a few good ones… ten years ago maybe-- but the past year and a half is when we really got some good designs.” Then, Hitoka shifts her eyes and lowers her voice. “But even then, they couldn't really compete with a lot of the neighboring schools.”

“Can I look through them?”

“Of course! We have last year's--”

“No, I mean, do you have all of them? Even the older ones.” Tadashi feels something switch on in his head. He doesn’t know what, it feels like a jolt, a spark maybe. His mind is interested, and he doesn’t even register that it is.

Hitoka looks at him then holds up a finger as she flees to the office. Tadashi sets down his stack of books as she comes back with a small key. He watches as she scoots to the left wooden shelves and unlocks the top ones. She opens the doors and nods at Tadashi.

“Here you go. I think that cabinet goes back to the 90s.”

Tadashi looks up at the spines of the books, eyes searching the small numbers as they slide back from the 2000s to 1992. That was the last one. He lifts his fingers to touch across some that are glossy and some with the numbers engraved. He never thought how much he could appreciate a book as much as he did right at this moment, seeing it freed from its concealment, knowing that previous students had built this with their own minds and effort. A feeling washes over him.

“Next week's meeting, we're gonna go over title names and reworking with template design, so Takeda-sensei wants at least two ideas from each of us on how a page should look,” Hitoka says to the whole group. Tsukishima only nods that he'd heard her and the two others tell her they'd get it by the end of the week.

Hitoka turns to Tadashi. “Is that okay? I understand if that's a lot to take in on your first day. I just hope you can come by next week and at least see the process.”

Tadashi nods at her.

“I can handle it.”

---

The week passes as it usually does, and it isn't as if Tadashi expects a sort of acceleration to the plain rhythm that High School has always droned, but the familiar faces he draws out in a crowd are more noticeable.

He can spot the towering Tsukishima so easily in his classroom, he wonders how he's never had his sights cross with the tall blonde before. Maybe he just wasn't paying attention, too focused on his inward anxieties and calculating ways to speak to people without showing his complete lack of confidence. It wasn't as if Tadashi was unlikeable by everyone, in fact, he knew the names of almost all his classmates. It was just a matter of proximity.

The people he really notices throughout the week are Hitoka and Shoyou. He sees them walk down the halls, and they wave at Tadashi as if they were old friends. Tadashi is unsure why they do this, especially with that amount of seemingly genuine enthusiasm. He waves back, but that's all the interaction he gives.

He hasn't quite figured out the dark- haired boy's name yet, but he sees him tag along the two others, face either in confusion or indifference, with the occasional bickering scowls at Shoyou. The pair seem to always be at extremes with the other. Whether it's in declaration of a fight or excitement at a conversational point that Tadashi doesn't have all the pieces to yet. He figures they must be friends at the very least.

The weekend rolls as quickly as it ever does, and it isn't too long before Wednesday afternoon meets Tadashi’s gaze, as his eyes peer at the clock on the upper right corner of his classroom.

He hears the teacher go over homework assignments, and he swears he must've written them down, but his brain forgets once the last bell rings, and a rush of students flee from the classroom to their homes or after school activities. Tadashi feels his eyes shift back to reality and he pushes his notebooks and green, dingy pencil bag into his backpack.

It isn't until he hears the skid of another chair against the floor that his gaze shifts up for a moment and he sees Tsukishima gather his things with slow movements, as if he really doesn't have anywhere pressing to be.

Tadashi bites his lip, feels a bubbling of words in his gut try to surface on his tongue, telling himself to have a bit of courage as his own chair skids against the floor. He lifts his bag onto his shoulder and bounces in his step a little.

“Um… Ts--Tsukishima?”

The boy in front of him turns and raises a brow. Tadashi tells himself not to feel so intimidated by the stare, but finds that thought to be stupid since the guy practically held the definition of a piercing gaze.

“I-- do you want to walk to the club meeting together maybe? Last time I got a little lost and that's why I was late, but, um, it's really fine if you have to do something else first. I was just wondering… is all…”

Tadashi holds onto the strap of his backpack. He was kind of glad he was able to get that many words out without slipping up too bad, and also kicking himself for even bothering the guy in the first place. Tsukishima only looks back to his desk for a moment and finishes placing his things into his bag, then zipping it with much more grace than Tadashi felt he had in his entire pinky.

“How did you get lost? The school's not that large. Besides, this is your last year.” Tsukishima says in reply, hoisting his bag to his back and looking back at him once before walking to leave the classroom. Tadashi, cheeks florid from embarrassment, takes that as a cue to follow. He scurries to catch up and shuts the door behind them.

“I’m a transfer… So this is really my first year here. And, well, the room is kind of blocked off from view where it is.”

“We're stashed in the corner of the school where they hide their skeletons.”

Tadashi isn't sure whether he should laugh or not, but he stifles a chuckle under his breath. Tsukishima glances at him from the corner of his eye. Tadashi stiffens.

“Sorry. Couldn't tell if you were joking or trying to be a poet.”

Tsukishima only twinges an eyebrow. Tadashi blinks and attempts to explain himself.

“Because skeletons in a closet-- and you're the Journalism crew, so you pretty much harbor all those secrets-- Oh look there's the door, thank god.” He whispers the last bit to himself.

Both boys look to a dimly lit corner of the school with a wooden door surrounded by various black and white photographs, outlining it in a decorative frame. It was hung open, as the time was only 2:57 p.m.

“It looks like it belongs in a movie. The lights keep flickering like it's on purpose or something…” Tadashi says under his breath, mostly to himself. He hears a small noise from Tsukishima and can't quite distinguish it, but thinks it's something similar to a small laugh. Tadashi feels weirdly like smiling, not knowing himself as the type of person to make someone laugh.

The two file into the room and Hitoka is already propped on a desk, swinging her legs out beneath her. A pen is perched between her teeth and she stares hard at her notes with a strong determination. She looks up and falters when Tsukishima moves toward his desk at the far right and Yamaguchi stands in the middle near the whiteboard, unsure of where to sit.

“Hello,” he says with a small wave. Hitoka waves back and stretches a wide small, quickly fetching the pen from her mouth and placing it on the desk beside her as she hops down.

“Hi, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima,” she says and Tadashi is reminded of a small yellow bird fluffing out its feathers as she skitters across the room and toward the projector.

“I'm so sorry, I should have been setting up the slides before you got here. Oh, but, it's really good to see you came back!” She grins as she plugs in the monstrous looking projector and taps at the laptop perched behind it, connecting it with an easy flow.

“He just wants to see the skeletons. We've got a masochist in our midst,” Tsukishima says as he retrieves a piece of paper from his folder. Hitoka looks confused and quite taken aback, but all Tadashi can do is laugh.

Hitoka ends up laughing as well out of nerves, though Tadashi can still see her blatant confusion.

He then furrows his brows as he fetches for his piece of paper with design ideas he's spent the last week researching.

“Where are Hinata and…,” He asks, but the questions drifts as he can't place a name to the other. He's hoping for a lifeline.

“Oh! He and Kageyama are bringing in the new cameras we’re getting this year!”

“If they manage to get past the parking lot without breaking one.,” Tsukishima adds.

“I guess we should place our bets.” Tadashi says in reply. Tsukishima snickers.

#tsukkiyama #haikyuuwriters #haikyuu #prolixposts #my writing #tsukkiyama wips #this is mostly first years though #first years

[cosmosogler]

hi guys! i got home after 9. so i am six minutes late starting this post. 10:06 i mean.

anyway god dang it! i forgot my dream again. i think i was thinking about math and statistics though. numbers are super hard in dreams though because all the information changes and melts between instants.

i got up at a reasonable time- 7:40. still got out of the shower super late though. i’m not even sure what takes so long! maybe it’s because i brush my teeth and blow dry my hair and everything in that span of time so it’s not just “hopped in the shower at 7:50 and oH GOD IT’S 8:15.”

i tried to have a bigger breakfast than usual- i had a bagel and some bacon i put in the microwave. and a big glass of orange juice. i watched snoopy roll around in a patch of sunlight while i ate. 

then i biked to campus a little late. i was super thankful that the light on the busy road happened to turn green right as i approached. if you miss it it’s a 2-minute wait for the next cycle.

i used my lecture notes today when i started the lab period!!! people started working on their labs while i was talking though and i got a little discouraged. i’ll need to ask for feedback over email i think. maybe it’s still good to lecture so that the people who already know what’s going on can get started while the people who are still a little confused have some basis to start from.

some questions really get me turned around though. i feel kinda stupid when i have to check my notes on the lab to answer a question like “but are the forces REALLY always equal and opposite?” because i think i know an exception but really no i don’t. and then i have to explain why there are no exceptions and i try to draw on some experiences as an undergrad ta but i only remember half-sentences and bits of anecdotes and i have to try to string them together into a coherent explanation that is catered toward intro physics courses.

i’m always exhausted afterward. i really give it everything even though i’m not the best ta.

i got scolded by my supervisor for getting suzanne to help me fix one of the computers when i couldn’t find him. what had happened was, i saw him talking to suzanne out the door earlier since the lab is across from the office. when i needed to find him i checked his office first, didn’t find him, and asked suzanne if she knew where he went. when she said the other side of the building she also offered to take a look because she’d been having a couple computer problems too on monday. 

but a few problems i did fix myself fairly quickly. i don’t mind troubleshooting, but sometimes i have to stand there and process information and i get quiet and kind of stare into space and don’t move and then i feel dumb because i’m not actually thinking using any words. 

maybe those are less “processing” thoughts and more “racing circular” thoughts.

ehhh afterward i went to my lab office hour. one of my students with the computer issues was in there trying to finish. he didn’t though. 

during my office session i received an email from the grad advisor. he said every single first year grad student needed to be at a meeting right now. it was the end of my session anyway so i packed up and went over to the office to see if anyone else had caught the email. 

they were actually all discussing it with an older graduate student. jennica was scrolling through every email she’s received on the student account to try and find any previous information about the meeting. there was none. 

we talked about it for a few minutes before the older grad student went up to talk to him. jennica and harrison and i went to get some lunch and i picked a smoothie up for rebika.

actually that was funny. i asked her what kind she wanted and she said “i don’t know” so i said there were like a hundred and i would have to pick one at random so she better be okay with kale. she said whatever so jennica found an online random number generator.

anyway while we were out we got another email from the grad coordinator. this one was really passive aggressive and sent to the whole department about how no one showed up and the lady making the presentation had “come all the way across campus.”

i said “???” because this was well after the situation had been explained to him. i’m not sure why he was so mean about it when it was his mistake. we had literally never heard about this before and he told us to be there one minute before it started.

eventually suzanne found a reminder for it on her phone. we had to hack it to find out when she had actually set that reminder to give us an idea of where we might have heard about it. 

it was during our “graduate welcome” presentation back in the middle of august. it wasn’t written down anywhere. it had just been mentioned in passing and suzanne made a note of it in her phone because it sounded interesting. not because we knew it was required.

my classmates complained that we’d never gotten any reminders for it but i was more annoyed that we hadn’t received any written notification of the event in the first place.

after that we studied a lot. i talked about some problems, fudged some math on the blackboard, and scribbled some stuff down on the homework problems i’d printed.

harrison has started telling me to “stop talking” whenever i say something depressing. jennica picked up on it pretty fast too. 

during coffee/cookie time at 3:30 ish i was chatting with one of the upper classmen aboutttt star trek i think it was. i’ve never watched it but i know... enough to talk about it i guess. i ended up having a fun discussion with taylor about the boundary between sci fi and fantasy when he said star wars was the superior sci fi story.

i said it was based on how heavily it leaned thematically on hard science and logic to inform its worldbuilding. taylor said it depended on the setting.

anyway i was talking to the guy and i was maybe talking about how i’d burned myself on my tea and also spilled some on my shirt because i’d burned my face and flinched violently. i said “thank you for listening to my problems” and jennica was all “don’t get her started, oh god, unless you want to be depressed.” 

i laughed and said “hey did i ever tell you about the time i broke my ribs?” and that got, i guess, a surprised laugh out of him. jennica gave me a Look. “just kidding, my ribs were too soft to break then,” i said apologetically-but-not-really.

i really relate to that short homestuck comic about dave talking about how his bro would leave him in the ball pit when they went to the store. except the ball pit was a slab of concrete in a dark room.

ok! i said my last prayers for the physics midterm and then at about 5:30 jennica and i played five rounds of love letters, adventure time edition. we were going to 3 wins and it stayed pretty close. i admitted that it’s a lot more active with three players and four gets to be a little too much. she seemed to like it well enough at least.

then at 6:05-ish i dumped all my trail mix in my mouth and turbo biked over to the drc to take my Accommodated Test in their Testing Facility. i almost got hit by a car while i was in the crosswalk. i was crossing at the same time as another bike, but as soon as he was past and i was approaching the end of the road, a driver slammed on the gas and i had to actually for real hard brake. i stared at her as she passed, she made eye contact with me. i don’t know why she did that if she saw me.

guess i’ll just go screw myself.

anyway i got there about fifteen minutes before the test was gonna start. there was trouble with the check-in devices so i was glad i got there early. i had time to get settled and put my stuff away and brush my hair a little bit to get the helmet tangles out.

then i took the test for two and a half hours! i was allotted three, and my classmates had two, so i think i made good use of the extra time and didn’t panic too hard.

i’d felt super sleepy and lethargic all day. the test wasn’t much better. but... i recognized all the problems at least. and i knew how to start all of them. and i had enough time to finish to my satisfaction.

i’m not gonna say i did well on the test. but i did way better than if i hadn’t studied. which is kind of a given, but. i think i tried more study strategies this time and asked for more help and maybe that made a difference. can’t say. i had no particular feeling about it when i looked over my work. i noted where i knew what i was doing and where i’d forgotten something, and where i’d probably made a mistake but had no idea what to do instead, and i really have no idea how i did.

i think biking home right after that though did a lot toward helping me not die of lack of energy. i had to bike up the big hill because of where i was leaving campus. that was ok though, i got up in no time at all! in third gear, even!!!

then i got home, and took out the trash, and devoured an ice cream sandwich, and then made some dinner. and then i sat down at my desk for 20 minutes, did a little e&m homework, sent some emails, and started writing, and then here i am. 

five minutes left. i will try to talk about something good about me. 

i uh... i was gonna talk about something ta-related but i can’t think of anything right now that i actually like about my method haha.

i’ve made a lot of progress this last week toward finding a study strategy that works for me. i know i have to use more than one of the study style fields to really learn material. two is good, three is better, four is overwhelming. i know that i am learning material on the backburner even if i don’t consciously feel like i understand anything because i look at some problems and i’m like “oh! i know what that is!” 

still having trouble remembering relationships between equations. but i think that will get better the more time i spend looking stuff up over and over. like i really Get the yukawa potential and how that one equation basically provides a link between classical mechanics and e&m, and that’s so cool.

tomorrow i’ve got group therapy and it’s SPAGHETTI DAY. AGAIN!!!!!! but i also gotta start studying for that e&m test on friday. i need to figure out how to do that. maybe i will find and talk to adamya since he was helping suzanne the other day. 

ok. it is 10:45. i will stop writing now and meditate for a few minutes and then go to bed. i need to get up a few minutes early to pick up a package. i think it is either the rest of my stuff i’ve been trying to get my parents to send for the last month, or it’s the cat food that i’m glad i ordered when i did and not a day later.

later guys, i hope you are well. drink more water.

[still-with-hearts-beating]

stubborn love (jane/kurt fanfic)

Summary: Jane and Kurt try to bridge the gap between them. Set a few months into season 2.

A/N: No idea where this came from, it’s been about a million years since I’ve written any kind of fic. But Jeller woke my muse, hope you enjoy.

Stubborn Love

He almost didn’t recognize her when he saw her. Curled up in a leather armchair, her raven hair tucked under a knit cap, it was only the wingtips of her mockingbird tattoo, peeking out above the collar of her plaid shirt that gave her away.

He stared at her for a minute, undetected. She had her head down, looking at something in her lap. He shifted to his left, craning his neck and saw that she was sketching.

He hadn’t been to this cafe in a long time. It wasn’t in his neighborhood but he’d taken the rare day off as an opportunity to go for a run and stopped in to pick up a bottle of water. He didn’t realize until he’d spotted her that his route had taken him a few blocks from her safe house.

She still hadn’t noticed him staring at her. She was focused on whatever it was she was sketching, pausing only for a moment to chew the end of her pencil.

It took him a minute to remember the last time he’d seen her outside of work and then, he did. It was the night he arrested her. He hated thinking about that night, about that day. And yet, he did. All the time. Snapping back to reality, he looked up to find her wide green eyes staring back at him.

After a moment, she lifted up her hand in a timid wave, like she wasn’t quite sure if he was really there. He could say the same about seeing her.

He thought about waving back and then turning away to continue on his run. But instead, within a few seconds, he found himself standing in front of her.

“Hi.” She stared up at him, as if she waiting for him to say something else. He wanted to say something else.

It felt strange not knowing how to talk with her. It had always come so naturally, so easily. This new feeling between them, even months after she had rejoined the team, was uncomfortable. Distance, uncertainty, whatever it was, he hated it.

“Hi, Kurt. Out for a run?” she asked, stating the obvious.

This is where they were. Meaningless small talk.

He nodded dumbly, shrugging his shoulders. “It had been a while, figured I’d get at least one in before the first snowfall.” She nodded along with him.

They stared at each other in silence for what was probably only a few seconds, yet felt ages longer. He cleared his throat after a moment and looked down at her sketchbook.

“What are you sketching?” He tilted his head to get a better view of the book sitting in her lap. He recognized some of the patterns from her tattoos. Some were new to him.

She waved a hand over the book dismissively.

“Oh, this and that. Nothing in particular. Just working this book in,” she murmured as she looked down and darkened the edge of a geometric pattern along the crease of the book.

He’d seen her sketches of her tattoos before, in her sketchbook and on the walls of her safe house. It wasn’t until this moment though, as he watched her draw in person, that he realized she had likely had a hand in the design of her tattoos.

He would have wondered how he hadn’t realized it sooner but he knew exactly why. It was yet another example of his clouded judgment where it came to her. The thought that she had been complicit in her tattoos, let alone one of the masterminds behind it, never would have occurred to him before.

Had he not heard from her own lips that she had done this to herself, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Sometimes he still didn’t.

“Kurt?”

Her voice shook him out of his thoughts and he looked up from her book to find her looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I was asking what else you had planned for today? After your run?”

“Oh, nothing much. Probably go into the office for a few hours.” She smiled and shook her head.

“So much for a day off, huh?” He shrugged and took a swig from his bottle of water.

“I’ve never been much good at those. Anyways, I’ll let you get back to your afternoon.” He lingered for a moment, taking another look down at her sketchbook.

“Bye, Kurt.” He looked back up to find her smiling warmly at him.

“See you tomorrow, Jane.” He returned her smile before turning and making his way through the cafe to the door. He turned back as he reached the door to find she’d already returned to her sketchbook, head down in concentration.

He watched her for another moment before the door swung open and a trio of teenagers breezed by him into the cafe. He caught the door before it closed again and stepped back out into the crisp air, continuing his run home.

***

It was a couple of hours later when Kurt found himself at his desk, shuffling through some long overdue paperwork that required his signature. As he flipped through it and scribbled his name along the bottom of each one, something Jane had said earlier rang in his ears.

“Just working this book in.”

He thought back to the book sitting in her lap and remembered she’d had it open to what was probably the second or third page.

It was a new sketchbook, he realized.  Her first one had never been returned to her.

His mind felt like it was going a mile a minute as he put together that she’d likely not had anything returned to her since rejoining the team. Nearly four months ago.

He shoved the pile of papers in front of him aside and picked up the phone on his desk, punching in the speed dial for Patterson’s lab. She picked up on the second ring.

“Yep?” He shouldn’t be surprised that Patterson had also made her way into the office on her day off.

“What happened to Jane’s things?” There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“Sorry…what?”

“Jane’s belongings. From her safe house, after I arrested her.” He grimaced as he said it.

“Oh! Um, we processed and catalogued them and they were filed as evidence in her case.”

“Where are they now?” He stood up as he asked, ready to go hunt them down.

“What do you mean? You had them returned to her, didn’t you?” He was silent for a moment and he heard Patterson suck in a breath. “Uh, nevermind, they’re probably still in evidence then. I can call and have them sent down to you?” He shook his head as he picked up his keys, wallet and cell phone from his desk.

“That’s OK, thanks.” He hung up the phone and strode out of his office towards the elevator, punching the call button a couple of times.

He didn’t want to sit around and wait for the boxes to be delivered to him. He made his way to the evidence room and, after several confusing and frustrating minutes with the clerk and three phone calls to the clerk’s supervisor, was presented with two brown bankers’ boxes, labelled with Jane’s case number.

He stared at them for a moment and instinctively started to break the seal to open the top one but he stopped himself. In the time she had spent with them last year, Jane had collected only these two small boxes of belongings before having them taken away from her and forgotten about.

The least he could do was give her some semblance of privacy and return them intact.

He carried the boxes out to his car and made the short drive to Jane’s safe house. As he pulled up in front, he thought for a moment that maybe he should have called first. The last time he had shown up unannounced, she had left in handcuffs.

He shook the thought from his head and after a moment, was knocking on the door as he balanced the boxes on the handrail.

She opened the door after a minute, her surprise at finding him on the other side evident.

“Kurt! What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in for a minute?” She paused for a moment, her brain still registering his presence, more so than his request to come in. They stood in silence, staring at each other as his question hung in the air. “If now’s not a good time, I can come back,” he offered, starting to step back. She shook her head and opened the door further.

“No, no, now’s fine. Come in,” she stepped aside and gestured into the house. He picked up the boxes and walked past her into the entrance way. He deposited the two boxes on her coffee table and turned back towards her as she closed the door behind him.

“Um, can I get you something to drink?” she offered. He shook his head, glancing around the room nervously.

“I’m sorry for barging in on you like this, I should have called first,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“That’s OK,” she said, hesitantly, still unsure of why he was there. He figured he’d get to the point.

“I won’t keep you, I just wanted to drop these off for you,” he pulled one of his hands out of his pocket and gestured to the boxes at his side. She eyed them, somewhat suspiciously.

“They’re your things. From, um…before.”

She stared at him from a moment, not sure of what he meant. Then he saw the realization hit her face.

“Oh.”

She stared at the boxes, then looked back up at him, but said nothing. He cleared his throat.

“I, uh…I realized when I saw you earlier, that you had a new sketchbook. And that your first one hadn’t been returned to you. That none of your things had been returned to you.” She nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner. They should have been returned to you when we moved you back in here, I’m not sure how I let it slip through the cracks.” He searched her eyes for some hint of what she was thinking as he explained but it was one of the few moments where he couldn’t read her.

“Anyways, once I realized it, I wanted to make sure you got them back right away, so, here they are,” he tapped the top of the box awkwardly. Again, she said nothing. “They’re still sealed but if there’s anything missing, let me know and I’ll look into it.” She nodded and stared down at the boxes.

“Jane, please, say something,” he pleaded. She shook her head out of her reverie and looked up at him, a small smile on her lips.

“Sorry, I just…I guess I figured they were filed away as evidence, I didn’t think I’d ever get any of it back.” She paused then, considering what she was going to say next. “At the beginning, I thought maybe you were keeping them from me… as punishment…” she added, quietly, her voice trailing off.

He felt a pang of guilt and shook his head vehemently, “I swear, I wasn’t, Jane.  I wouldn’t do that.”

She nodded understandingly. “I know that now.”

They stood in silence for another minute before he pulled his keys out of his pocket.

“I should get going. Sorry again for barging in,” he moved towards the door quickly, his hand on the knob when her voice stopped him.

“Kurt?” He turned back towards her. She looked down at the boxes and then back up at him, her eyes soft. “Thank you,” she said with a slight smile. He nodded, opened the door, and left.

***

It was mid-morning the next day and Kurt had yet to see any of the team. He’d been stuck at his desk, tending to the paperwork that he had abandoned the day before. He was down to the last few pages when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up to see Jane poking her head in.

“Do you have a minute?” He put down his pen and waved her in.

“Sure, what do you need?” She cleared her throat and stepped in, letting the door close behind her.

“I… I wanted to thank you again for bringing my things by yesterday.” He shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me. They’re yours, they should have been returned to you a long time ago. I’m sorry it took so long.” It was her turn to shake her head.

“There’s been a lot going on. I appreciate you making it happen.” She paused then, opening her mouth to continue, but stayed silent. He waited a moment before prompting her.

“Did you –“

“You should have this,” she blurted out, pulling a small box from her back pocket. She placed it on the edge of his desk then backed away, folding her arms across her chest reflexively.

They both stared at the box for a moment, before looking back up at each other.

“Jane…” He didn’t know what to say, looking back down at the box.

“You should have it back. It doesn’t belong to me,” she whispered. “It doesn’t belong with me,” she added after a moment.

He reached over and picked up the box, opening it up to find the necklace he’d once gifted her placed neatly inside. He touched the edge of the stone gently then glanced up to find her looking down at her feet.

“You know,” his voice game out gruffly, hoarser than he’d expected. She looked up with surprise in her eyes. He cleared his throat and started again. “When I gave this to you, I was giving it to you.” She furrowed her brow, confused. “Not Taylor.”

“You thought I was her, Kurt…”

“I know. We both did. But I’ve realized something these past few months,” he stood up, walking around to the other side of his desk, leaning against it.

“Even if you were Taylor Shaw, you weren’t that same little girl from 25 years ago. Just like you aren’t Remi anymore now.” She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. He continued on.

“You’re you, Jane. Your own person. And that’s who I was giving this necklace to. Regardless of where it came from.”

They stared silently at each other for a moment as she considered what he had said.

“I…I still don’t feel like I can keep it,” she finally said. He nodded and closed the box, placing it on the desk behind him.

“I understand. And I appreciate you returning it to me. I just…I wanted you to know that I’m not holding Taylor against you. I’m not holding Remi against you.” He saw her eyes turn glassy as she swallowed thickly. She nodded and offered a small smile. “Just like I hope you won’t hold that night against me.”

They both knew what night he was referring to.

“I don’t, Kurt. Truly. I…you had just found Taylor’s body, and your dad…and I’d hid so much from you,” she rambled on before he stood up, waving his hand to cut her off.

“I should have listened when you tried to explain. I should have stopped the CIA from taking you,” it was her turn to cut him off.

“I think we can both agree there are a lot of things we should have done differently,” she offered with a slight smile. He let out a light chuckle and nodded in agreement. “I’d like to think we both would if we could.” He nodded again.

“I don’t want to look back anymore, Kurt. I’m so tired of looking back, of searching for answers in memories that aren’t there or in ones that remind me of what a horrible person I was,” she whispered.

“You’re not that person anymore, Jane.”

“Maybe not, but until we end this, until we end Sandstorm, I’ll never be free of her.” He nodded, understanding what she meant.

“We will end this. I promise you.” She nodded and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“I should get back to work. I’ll see you later?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you guys in Patterson’s lab soon, just have some paperwork to finish up,” he gestured back to the pile on his desk. She smiled and made her way towards the door and he walked back around his desk.

“Jane?”

She turned around, her hand resting on the door, ready to push it open.

“I thought maybe I’d go for another run next Sunday. If I stopped in at that cafe again…” he trailed off and she felt the smile creep up into her cheeks.

“Maybe I’ll see you there?” she finished for him. He smiled and nodded. “I’d like that,” she added before turning and pushing the door open.

He watched her go back to her desk for a moment, before reaching across his desk and picking up the box that had been the reason for her visit. He turned it over in his hands a few times before opening his desk drawer and gently placing it inside.

As he slid the drawer closed, he felt a sense of closure. Like he could finally put the events of the past year behind him and move ahead.

To what, he wasn’t sure. But for the first time in a long time, he looked forward to his next run.

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #jeller #writing: mine