#listen this 500 and something year old has made himself right at home in my head

[scalpelofshar]

Only one undead in BG worth my time and his name is Malus Thorm

[corndoggod]

January 16

Our snowy getaway to North Adams, Massachusettes turned snotty as C’s flu surged back with a vengeance. 

Our vacations are no longer honeymoons, they are real stories now. So much happened on this brief weekend away, so many ups and downs, but it is a shapeless, untameable wave that swells, crashes and renews like breath. 

Breathing is hard when you have no nose. Hers was full of mucus. Mine was full of snuff. One of the many reasons I can’t smell for shit. 

I have become obsessed with shape, cohesion, leanness. But I need to start fat and full. It feels like crap coming out, which is something everyone says and I hate that. But I need to say that in order to say what I need to say. I need this flow to keep going. So I type away at nothing, filling it up with airless thoughts struggling to catch my breath. 

There is something ugly and small about winter that I like. Perhaps because I was born into it. And there’s a stillness too. I feel it most when I’m back home in Nebraska leaving the bar at 2 a.m., warmed by old friends and tiny drinks. I walk to the car, snow crunching underfoot and, as soon as I’m alone, I stop. I stop and listen. I love that moment of quiet, blue desolation. 

Winter birthdays are a challenge. What is there to do? This year I decided to lean in and seek snow since that’s become something of a novelty in New York. $500 and 120 miles later I had my squall. It came on quick. The sun shined bright, but soon the snow kneecapped the sky and made it hazy white, blotting out the roads and the lines that guide us to and fro. We were at a snug hotel called tourists owned by a Wilco band member. We didn’t stay there but we stopped in for lunch after two terrible meals out. The cozy, wood-forward lounge was populated with starter pack families: bearded men with budding paunches and Lulu Lemon women in boots outwardly proud and energetic.  

I do not handle the cold well. I am quick to shiver and my long johns don’t come off once they go on. So these moments of serenity are strange and precious. Something deep inside me quietly overpowers the elements and I feel some kind of inner peace. For this reason, I once made an igloo in our backyard and then laid inside for hours trying to fall asleep inside that feeling. 

I wondered at the man we passed by driving into town. He pulled his truck over on the highway, tugged a cigarette from his vest and stared at the empty town hall in Hancock, Massachusetts. What was caught up inside of him? There was so much in me I didn’t know how to say. Eventually, I would, but it took time and chemicals. We sped by but I stayed thinking about that man and I wonder who he thinks about in the flicker before sleep and if he ever thinks of violence. 

I didn’t have much to say on the drive up the Taconic Parkway. The silence had friction and neither of us could think for ourselves since we were too occupied with the other. We listened to Brene Brown’s “Power of Vulnerability” and disagreed over the definition of love. I didn’t want Brown to be right. If she was, then I would have to give words to my psychic sludge. My claustrophobia extended inwards and I’d been spelunking my psyche since my Dad’s second stroke last May but, no matter what I excavated, it never seemed like enough. 

We made some expensive mistakes. With Mass MOCA in town, we assumed there would be some nice restaurants. There were nice-looking restaurants that were priced as if nice, but the food was mediocre and the service was bad. I know how it looks coming from NYC, but a bad meal on vacation at a restaurant you researched is a noxious blow for two bubbas. 

We visited a starter pack family in Chatham who are also friends of ours. They’ve always seemed one step ahead of us, perhaps even paving the way. They have a newborn and own the home they’ve lived in for seven years. Z’s mom also has pancreatic cancer and N’s father is a mess unable to care for himself, though his diagnosis is obvious. I wouldn’t know how to diagnose my father. Is giving up a condition? 

I have not written so aimless in so long. In remaking myself, in imagining a mid-career pivot, I wonder if perhaps I should recover some part of myself instead. Maybe I’m not lost but I’ve lost myself. Perhaps I must unlearn certain things. Be kinder. Hungrier. More desperate and earnest and patient. I’ve run out of patience and I’ve come to view my strengths and weaknesses as facts. These views amount to inertia. 

I dusted off my typewriter to create a little memory book of me and C’s road trip through the Badlands, Wyoming and Glacier as a Christmas gift. The first story I ever wrote was about that typewriter. It was a Calvino-esque tale of a writer struggling to write. I had just read If on a winter’s night a traveler, which, if you haven’t read, is a supremely clever and playful book about love of reading. My story was about the desire and failure to write, which is also what I wrote my college thesis about. More than ten years later, these works feel prescient. 

January is a tough month for me. At the hour of renewal, I spiral and lose motivation. I finished the year strong, consistently biking/running and getting back into the rhythm of writing, but I let the holiday fog of schnapps, baileys and gummies linger too long. I was ready to be released from its daze but then missed its fuzzy embrace. 

I’ve been resisting a slump and have tried to self-correct in all the wrong ways. Nothing in great excess, but secretly and with an unkeeled frequency that comes earlier and earlier in the day. The biggest mistake was doing it alone in front of C on a mirrored coffee table. I saw her holding back tears and I saw me doing it anyway, but I didn’t need to see any of that to know it looked bad. 

I’ve done enough now to know I’ll still be sad no matter what I put inside. Any pleasure feels cheated, overshadowed by guilt and shame, and any high feels like I’m out of control freefalling deeper inside the very thing I wish to evacuate. I think I have to hurt first and rawdog life. The more I try to fool myself, the less self-respect I have.

[genshin-pals]

I think that this corrupted is so interesting and goos. So can I request an corrupted arcons?

OH YEEHAW LET'S GO BOIS-

I’m gonna add in a hint of abyss action for each of them, actually. Originally it was only Venti, but I needed a reason for Ei to go bad after the plot lol. Anyway enjoy~

- mod Cake

The last thing you remember is Venti on the ground. Some...thing was just ripped out of his chest by this woman, Signora, and it seemed rather important. 

Most worrying of all was a darkness that swirled around the archon right before you lost consciousness.

You ask Barbra where he’s gone, and she tells you Windrise, and you run.

Collapsed in front of his own statue, the bard gasps for air. He can’t breath. He’s going to become dangerous, right after Dvalin was freed...

You approach, watching as the tips of blue at Venti’s braids changes to a sick purple.

“Stop-” He coughs, struggling to speak. “-I...I need...” His gaze moves to the tree. This place has a connection with Celestia. He needs to heal- But it didn’t work before... The swirl of emotions makes this transformation even worse...

Moving forward, you hesitantly lifted a hand to his cheek. Venti tensed under your touch, turning to look at you, fear evident in his eyes. 

You don’t know how you’ve been able to purify the taint from the abyss, but you focus all your energy into healing your friend.

Venti feels weak and faint, but he can’t struggle against you. The light becomes overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, he lets go of his human form.

There you sit, in front of the anemo archon’s statue, cradling the form of a small wind spirit. He rests in your arms, eyes closed. He’ll let himself be weak. Just this once....

It started out small. Little moments of aggression that seemed out of character for Zhongli. Yet, you brushed it off. Everyone has off days.

Then he forgot things. That was the real sign of something being wrong. More and more he slipped up, and when you pushed it, he sidestepped the issue.

One day, he vanished. You were panicked, searching all over Liyue for the land’s former deity. He was no where to be found. Even the mighty adepti were clueless.

Then, he appeared, spear in hand. But what really caught your attention was the cracks of magenta across his skin. Oh no.

An abyss mage appeared next to him, whispering something about how his people were in need of a home, and Liyue Harbor was the perfect place. It was already preoccupied, though.

“For the sake of my people, I will cleanse this land.”

Blades clashed, and you did your best to try and reach out to Rex Lapis. But he wasn’t listening to you. He didn’t know you, not anymore.

Eventually the adepti took notice. Without question, they fought against the very man they had signed a contract with. To protect Liyue Harbor, they would even seal their old master.

Everyone was exhausted by the end. And in the end, the god of geo was turned to stone. 

To the people of the nation, the statue was not one of their god, but a mad spirit. Right, Rex Lapis was already gone... But to the adepti, to you...a dear friend was gone.

It felt fitting, then, to place the statue in Nantianmen. You preformed the rite of parting as best as you could remember.

For a moment, all of nature mourned.

500 years ago, Raiden Ei made the decision to close her heart off from the world. 500 years later, she was shown the error of her ways, and tried to live in the world once again.

One day, there was a crash at Tenshukaku. Rushing over, you saw the Shogun with her weapon drawn. 

“Ei?!” You shouted. The only response was a cold gaze and the roar of thunder from above. You noticed something was wrong. The violet hue of the archon had lightened. Almost pink.

“Eternity...” She spoke. “...shall be achieved...” She was suddenly right in front of you, and you barely had time to deflect her blade. It was in that moment you took a look around, only to see the shogunate soldiers on the ground. Dead.

If the people of Inazuma were no longer living, then the land would truly be stuck in a state of eternity. That was the warped mindset she adopted.

Shouting, you begged Ei to let you in. Maybe this was something wrong with the Shogun. But maybe the abyssal corruption hadn’t reached the mind.

Finally, you entered the Plane of Euthimyia. To your dismay, it was just as corroded as you feared. Still, Ei seemed to have some sense of self here.

With the last of her sanity, she asks you destroy the Shogun, and take the blade that her mind resides in. From there, she trusts you to make the right choice.

So that is what you did. The Shogun was slain, to the horror of the nation. But Yae Miko was able to calm the masses. You entrusted the sword, Ei, to the fox envoy, who promised to do what she could. All the while, you’re going out to destroy the abyss.

[skellebonez]

Who Do I Go To? (Monkie Kid Fanfic)

I totally did not accidentally post this early before I edited it or added everything from my wip file... no... but anon, you gave me so much FREEDOM with this that I just went absolutely off the rails. This is not only set in a post S3 scenario where everyone survives and most of the villains have some kind of at least semi-redemption (except LBD, rip), this does feature a crackship or two of mine (you can read the tags to see the ships before you read)! Sun Wukong also has all of his immortality and some of his powers, I am writing this with the idea that he transferred most of them to MK and some of that was permanent once LBD was defeated and MK got his own back.

So... what if Sun Wukong did start communicating with the others in S3... but still has been bottling up his emotions about the past for so long he doesn’t feel he can talk to anyone because of their shared experiences? And what happens when that guilt and grief finally has someone willing to listen?

“What are you doing here, Si-SUN Wukong?” The Demon Bull King asked slowly, stumbling over his usual insult for the one once so close to him. They still weren’t close, and it was doubtful they would ever be as long as the sworn brothers they once were, but they were no longer at each other’s throats anymore.

That didn’t change how bizarre it was to see The Great Sage Equal To Heaven just... sitting outside his new home with no warning.

“DBK!” Wukong exclaimed, more startled than the larger demon was expecting as he jumped up and turned and if he didn’t look like he’d been hit with a truck metaphorically DBK didn’t know how to describe the way his fur stood on end and the redness in the other’s eyes. “I. UH. Was. Just stopping by to say hi!”

“No you weren’t,” DBK said, face falling into a deadpan glower. “You don’t do that. Even after 500 years I know you don’t.”

“I can start!” Wukong defended, crossing his arms and looking away with a wide teeth showing smile.

Too wide.

Even after everything that happened between them, from Red Boy to what happened when he needed his wife’s fan to sealing him in the mountain and everything that transpired with the Little Thief, he recognized that unhappy nervous smile.

“You can,” DBK said with a nod, gesturing to the smaller being. “You can also be here for a reason. Like what I heard you muttering to yourself behind the door.”

“And that’s my cue to leave!” The Monkey King announced as he turned to walk away before a large hand, with shocking gentleness for the one attached to it, wrapped around his shoulders.

“If you need to talk-”

“No, haha, I most certainly have no need for that!”

“-you know we’ve already made peace. I-”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Wukong insisted, struggling only a little before freeing himself from the other’s grip with an even wider nervous smile.

“-am willing to listen.”

“Don’t have to!”

“Are you at least talking to anyone?”

Neither of them said anything, The Demon Bull King staring down at The Monkey King with both frustrated annoyance and genuine concern in his expression.

The former he could deal with, but the later was so new again that...

Sun Wukong panicked.

“.... OKEY BYE!” He yelled, jumping and allowing his cloud to catch him and take him off.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM YOUR FEELINGS FOREVER SUN WUKONG!"

"I HID FROM THE WORLD FOR 500 YEARS AND I TURNED OUT JUST FINE, I THINK I'LL MANAGE!"

“He turned out fine, he says,” Princess Iron Fan called from behind her husband as she emerged from their home. “So fine that it took him losing his invincibility and his successor nearly being killed for him to admit he needed help.”

DBK grunted, nodding in agreement at her words.

“He needs more, still, my dear. Even I can see that.”

“Let’s call in some reinforcements then, darling. I think there are two people who may be able to get through to him.”

~

Sun Wukong sat on the beach of Mount Huaguo’s island home, clearly trying not to think about what had just transpired.

“Hey.”

“How did you even know to look for me here?” Sun Wukong asked, not nearly as startled this time. He’d heard the footsteps coming for a long time, the other apparently wanting to make his presence known.

“Bull King called Pigsy’s asking for MK. MK called me since he’s working. I remembered where you like to sulk. Hence: I’m here.”

Wukong groaned, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them. “I shouldn’t have even left the house today.”

“But you left,” Macaque said with a shrug, watching the other stew in his frustration at himself. “And you went to see DBK... and I guess Princess Iron Fan too? But you ran off. Why?”

“I can’t check up on an old friend turned enemy turned less enemy to ‘not exactly friend but we’re not trying to kill each other’ without being questioned?” Wukong grumbled into his arms.

“Not when you make him sound as worried as he did when he talked to MK,” Macaque continued, voice becoming more tense. “You didn’t go to apologize or explain anything, I was there when all that went down. So... did you finally go to talk about everything e-”

“No.” The word was said with such coldness that Macaque knew it was put on. It wasn’t out of malice but something else, something more worried and fearful. “No. I can’t talk to him about... I told him everything that explained what happened. I apologized. I don’t need to talk more.”

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to to just talking about, you know... how you’re doing," Macaque said with a concerned frown. It almost felt odd on his face. Almost. He was still getting used to the whole "not being mortal eternal enemies and now being friends and kinda sorta caring about each other again" thing. "I know it's been centuries and all and you're out of practice but like... it's been centuries."

"I just... can't, Macaque," Wukong rebutted as he refused to lift his head from his arms. "I just can't."

"Why?"

"Don't."

The single word stayed in their air between them, heavy and hard and meaning more than the immortal would ever admit to.

"Come on, there has to be a reason," Macaque insisted as he sat down beside the other immortal. When no response came he sighed, tail flicking absently and flipping over some of the rocks on the beach as they sat in silence for few minutes. "You know... I started talking to someone."

"What?" Wukong turned his head, just enough to look at the other monkey from the corner of his eye.

“Sandy’s a good listener,” Macaque continued, falling back down to lay flat on his back and gaze up at the clouds. He remembered that Wukong felt better, sometimes, when you looked away when talked to. Didn’t know why, but he remembered. “Not exactly the kind of therapy he thinks I need, but he lends me his cats and he lets me talk and sometimes asks if I want advice. Sometimes I say yes, but when I say no he understands. Sometimes I just want to rant at that one little one eyed cat he has and she listened to... I think. She’s a cat so I wouldn’t know. He thinks I should see someone more experienced, an expert. Maybe he’s right, I dunno, but this helps enough for now.

“... who are you and what have you done with the Six-Eared Macaque?” Wukong asked with a soft glower, one that was clearly in jest from the tiny smile the other could see.

“Same Macaque,” the other said with a laugh, sitting back up with a theatrical flourish. “Just realized that talking to someone isn’t as dumb or useless as I made it out to be in my head. A lot of the stuff I thought about alone wasn’t exactly the best. Or healthiest. But now I can get that out there and sometimes it makes Sandy look like he ate a whole lime which probably means it’s good it’s not in my head anymore.”

“You ramble a lot,” Wukong said with a chuckle, tail swishing softly beside him before nudging against Macaque’s. He tensed before it slowly wrapped around the other’s. “It feels odd, having you try to cheer me up again after... everything.”

“Bad odd or good odd?”

“Good.”

“That’s.... good,” Macaque said, squeezing Wukong’s tail with his own. “Feels odd for me too. Like I’m out of practice too. But it’s good odd...” The two sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company before he continued. “I do think you should talk to someone. Anyone.”

“I don’t know who, though. Every time I try I just... clam up and run away. I’ve put so much on MK already,” Wukong said, tail squeezing around Macaque’s loosely in return. “And Pigsy and Sandy... After all that came out, that Sandy is Sha Wujing and Pigsy is Zhu Bajie’s reincarnation... I just... I can’t talk to them either, even though Pigsy doesn’t remember anything at all. And you... DBK... everyone... who do I go to that knows enough about me to know what they’re in for but I won’t have those memories floating around in the back of my head toward making me run away?”

“Well, you could have Sandy help you get a therapist. Prepare them in advance. Or, if you’re not ready for that, you could talk to Tang?” Macaque suggested with a shrug. “He listens to me when I’m not talking to Sandy... but that’s probably because we’re dating, that’s what it is now instead of courting, right? So he kinda has to I think? Pigsy and MK talk to him too but with me I think it’s different.”

"I don't think that's how it works," Wukong said with a half hearted chuckle as he finally raised his head all the way. "Besides, I've known Tang longer."

"By like 3 months."

"3 months more is still enough to know that if he doesn't want to listen to you he won't. The man knows how to make a speedy exit."

"Guess that's one more thing that sets him apart from his great-great-great-great-great-whatever uncle," Macaque admitted with a shrug and a chuckle of his own. He squeezed his tail around Wukong's, smile softening when he felt it being returned.

“Feels... weird though,” Wukong said with a shrug. “The two of them looking so much alike.”

“Yeah, but that’s it,” Macaque rebutted. “He’s Tang Sanzang’s great-whatever nephew 5 times removed or whatever and he looks like him. Other than that? He knows pretty much all of your history. He’s mostly out of the hero worship zone but he still respects you a lot. Aside from everything that happened with LBD and MK you two have the least history out of everyone so maybe whatever’s in your head making you clam up might not stop you. And it couldn't hurt to try. It’s not therapy, it’s just talking about something that’s bothering you. Worst that can happen is you get nervous and fumble and he takes the opportunity to ask you 40 questions about the times you were almost incinerated by a baby."

"That was one time!"

~

“Uh,” Tang started, staring out the open door with wide eyes at the being before him. “Hi. I didn’t exactly expect to you see today.”

“I didn’t exactly expect to be here today,” Wukong said awkwardly, nervous smile taking over his face as his tone became far too jovial for what he was about to ask. “Macaque sent me to... talk to you. About me?” His smile drooped bit by bit as he said these words, slowly starting to lose his determination to go through with this. “Oh second thought, maybe I should-”

"No," Tang said, reaching out to put a hand on the immortal's shoulder. It was nothing, really, not to someone as strong as he was. Not when he could brush it off and walk away. Go home. Just sit on his couch and watch Monkey King The Animated Series again and just think about how no one deserved to be saddled with his problems anymore. But Wukong didn't. "Whatever it is, we’re going to talk about this now. I know I’m not trained like Sandy is, but I know how to listen. And if you need someone to listen to you, I can. You wouldn't have come here to talk if you didn't."

“... ok...” Sun Wukong said, letting Tang wrap his arm around his back and guide him inside his shared home with Pigsy and Macaque.

It was... odd. Being inside this place for the first time. He’d been outside of the door more than once, invited in as well. But never inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tang said, stopping his guidance once they reached the sofa. “I’m no Sandy, but I was making myself some tea and it is a batch of his own anyway. I’ll grab us some snacks too.”

“Snacks would be great,” Wukong admitted, watching the other disappear into the house’s kitchen before he sighed and gripped his thrashing tail and muttered to himself. “What am I doing..? I shouldn’t put all this on Tang... I should have gone with Macaque’s first suggestion, I’m-”

“Do you prefer lychee or persimmon?” Tang asked suddenly, startling the immortal for the second time that day. “We’re out of peach bao, but MK’s been making them out of lots of fruits and we have so many that I was planning on eating them myself.”

The scholar returned, faster than expected, with a full tray in hand. Teapot, two tea cups, and a steamer box that presumably held the buns he was asking about.

“Uh... persimmon,” Wukong answered, and he watched as Tang poured each of them a cup of tea and removed some clearly fresh (or at least made some time earlier in the day and freshly steamed), pieces of fruit laden bao to put on a plate for his guest before taking a seat in a chair across from him. “You were... getting lunch?”

Tang shrugged, laughing as he took a bite of one of his own. “Just wanted a snack. But,” He smiled, gesturing to the Monkey King. “We’re not here to talk about snacks. What’s on your mind?”

“Awfully forward start.”

“I try to be forward with the people I consider my friends.”

“... You consider me... a friend?” Wukong asked slowly, turning the bao over in his hands. It was well made, perfect he would say. You’d think MK would have been making them all his life, not that he’d learned how to on the drone ship while on the run from an evil super demon bent on erasing his mentor from the world.

“After everything we went through, how could I not?” Tang said, putting his food down to sip his tea and then putting that down as well and looking at him seriously. “You’re here because it’s the anniversary of the day you sealed away the Demon Bull King, aren’t you?”

The bao in his hands wasn’t perfect anymore. Instead the red lychee inside dripped from his claws from where they punctured it in surprise.

“How did you-?”

“My specialty study is your history after all,” Tang said, smile returning with a sad tint. “I’ve known the date for years but I felt it was something to keep to myself. For some reason. Now with you and DBK back I think that was a good choice. It feels too personal to have out in the open for everyone to make a spectacle of.”

“Is it selfish of me to be thankful for that?” Wukong muttered, gently placing the bao on the plate to lick his claws clean.

“I don’t think so,” Tang answered.

“I feel selfish though,” he continued, not managing to take note of how Tang sat up straighter and turned more toward him. “I went to DBK’s to... I don’t know. I wanted to apologize again? But I already did and he accepted it and it feels selfish to want to again. Then I just. I froze.”

“Why?” Tang asked, scooting closer.

“It felt wrong.”

“Because you would make him feel awkward?”

“NO!” Wukong groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just. I feel...” He took in a shaky breath, claws digging into his skin slightly.

“Don’t,” Tang’s voice came soft and closer than Wukong expected, as did the hands on his own slowly pulling his claws away from his face. “Don’t hurt yourself. And don’t bottle it up. I’ll listen to you. No matter what it is. It’s not selfish, feeling things isn’t selfish.”

“I miss it,” Wukong breathed out, shaky and choppy as his throat tightened as the words started to pour out of him. “I miss him. How things used to be between us and Iron Fan. I miss that I never got to meet Red Son when he was Red Boy. I miss Beng and Ba and Ma and Liu and how things used to be. I miss Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing even though they’re here. I miss my Tang Sanzang. I’d been alone for 500 years and I missed so much and I did that to myself and it’s selfish to miss like that...”

He didn’t realize his cheeks were wet until his hands had been let go and one of Tang’s rubbed a cloth against them. Tang cupped his cheeks softly before wrapping his arms around him and tucking the Monkey King’s head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“No... no it’s not. You’re allowed to miss things, Sun Wukong. Just like anyone else.”

Sun Wukong started to feel better.

He didn’t know why that was what did it, but the dam broke. It broke and his tears came pouring out as he hugged the man who reminded him so much of his Master. He didn’t know if anything he said in the mean time made any sense, if he was just blubbering and finally letting himself mourn what he’d lost and never had, but Tang didn’t ever chastise him. He let him weep and hold him and for the first time in years...

~

“Oh!” Princess Iron Fan startled as she opened the door to see who had knocked, finding herself face to face at sunset with one Great Sage. “You’ve returned.”

“Are you and DBK free?” Sun Wukong asked, smile no longer too wide. “I... kinda just wanna talk with you for a bit.”

“Well... I think that would be lovely.”

[hp-imagines-07]

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Sirius Black x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Universe: Harry Potter; The Marauders era

Type: PURE FLUFF, ok a bit angsty but really, nothing much

Summary: [y/n] had been overwhelming herself with plenty of stuff and Sirius just wants to help her because he loves her.

Request: yes|NO - pls send more requestssss

Prompt: xxx

Warnings: just cursing really

Song: xxx

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda of a blurb)

Posted: 15th of October 2020 - !PART OF 500 FOLLOWERS' CELEBRATION!

A/N: ok, i wanted to write a pure fluff one for Sirius and here it is!! it's not really big but i hope you like it bc it's just cringing fluff

My Others Accounts: @imagines-07 (Principal Account) | @obx-imagines-07 (Outer Banks) | @stit-imagines-07 (Stranger Things & IT) | @cm-imagines-07 (Criminal Minds) | @mcu-imagines-07 (Marvel Comics Universe)

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!!hp-imagines-07's 500 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION!!

As [y/n] felt her eyes heavy and starting to close as an instinct, she dropped her quill at the table and rubbed her eyes on the hardest way possible (without hurting herself, obviously) to take all the sleepiness far away from the bloody busy girl she has been being the last couple of weeks.

After a long breath, [y/n] grabbed the quill again and came back to the essay Slughorn had asked for everyone - except for his dearest students fucking dipshit - to the next class. Well, he had asked for this essay more than a week ago, but just as [y/n] started to read the book about the topic asked, the full moon got before she had time to think anything related to classes.

The Marauders never let her help them outside, so [y/n] would always wait for them at the common room, but this one was by far the worst of the year. Remus had transformed before they got to the safe place in the forest and where he couldn't come back to Hogwarts and attack people there, so they (basically James and Sirius, because Peter couldn't help much on his animagus form) had to contain him the farthest away from the castle, what caused a lot more bruises than the expected.

[y/n] first helped an almost-passing-out Remus, who couldn't remember what happened outside but was feeling so bad with himself that not even all of them made him feel a little bit better. Then, after Moony and Wormtail went to sleep, [y/n] helped James and Sirius with their worst bruises and cuts until the very late night.

Besides the fact that [y/n] was tutoring a third-year in Charms almost every day (because, oh, the little boy needed help with the new spells...), McGonnagal had been overwhelming her with Prefect duties. It wasn’t on purpose, Minerva just never thought that it was too much for her because [y/n] never said anything and always accepted any challenge.

But the girl was so overwhelmed…

The first one to notice was Marlene. She saw how [y/n] was barely getting any hours of sleep by being awake in the middle of the night plenty of times with the girl cursing under her breath while getting something wrong on the paper. Then Marlene talked to Lily, who is a heavy sleeper and didn't notice the missing hours of sleep from their best-friend.

After Marlene talked to Lily about [y/n], the red-headed started to notice the big bags under [y/n]'s eyes, the tiredness on her voice, how she dressed the first clothes that appeared in front of her, the way she was always looking so stressed over something that no one could point to… 

Lily then, warned Sirius about how his girlfriend needed his help more than ever and she also told him to not ask her if she wanted his help to anything, because the fucking stubborn woman would never accept help from anyone else.

And when Sirius saw [y/n] almost crying with angriness over her essay at the other side of the common room, he knew that was the moment he should act as the perfect boyfriend he was and help his love. Ignoring all the questioning looks the other three Marauders sent on his way by suddenly getting up and forgetting all about the prank they were planing on a few Slytherins, Sirius got up from the chair he was sitting at and walked in the direction of [y/n].

As the girl started to write again with her quill and the harder part being to keep her eyes open, Sirius sat on the chair beside her making [y/n] jump in surprise. "My God..." She muttered with her hand above her heart and trying to calm it down.

"Sorry for the little scare, love," Sirius said and grabbed [y/n]'s quill from her hand and closed her book before she could even protest. "but now, I'm taking you to bed..." Sirius started putting all [y/n]'s belongings on her bag while she tried to hold a few things back and protest with him, but Sirius wouldn't just give up.

Just when he had finished, Sirius began listening to her. "What the fuck, Sirius?!" The girl said furiously at her boyfriend, that gulped with her angry expression. "I need to finish this essay today! What do you think you're doing?" Sirius didn't give himself the work to answer all the questions she was throwing at him, but just threw her over his shoulder instead. "Sirius Orion Black put me down right now! I swear I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!" [y/n] screamed at him, while struggling to make him put her back down.

"[y/n] [y/l/n], shut up and let me take care of you." He simply said and she just groaned out in frustration, [y/n/n] knew that whatever she did to make him put her down wouldn't work, and just let him take her to wherever Sirius wanted for her to be.

Sirius started to walk towards the girls’ dormitory but just as he stepped his foot, the stairs became a slider and he found himself being grateful that he wouldn't be able to take [y/n] to her dorm, where there were plenty of tired girls already sleeping. So he turned around and walked upstairs to his still empty dorm with [y/n] over his left shoulder and her bag over his right one.

The first thing he did after passing through his door was to put [y/n] down. "Thank God, I was becoming nauseated on that position..." She muttered under her breath when her feet touched the floor. "Why did you bring me here, Sirius?" [y/n] asked with a monotonous tone and sat at his bed, knowing that he wouldn't give [y/n]'s bag back to her.

"You need to rest my love..." He started while walking to his bed and standing in front of her but just as his girlfriend was going to protest with him, he continued. "Don't worry about your Potions essay, I'll finish that for you tomorrow while you take care of the tasks Minnie gave you… Just don't worry, ok?" Sirius asked with both of his hands on [y/n]'s cheeks, making her look at him right in the eyes and she softly nodded at him, already feeling her eyes heavy with his caring and loving touch.

In a matter of minutes [y/n] was wearing just one of Sirius' favourite muggle-band shirt and sleep shorts and Sirius was getting ready to bed with her.

Both of them laid on his bed, under the warm and comfy blankets and held each other as close as they could. "How long has it been that we didn't do this?" Sirius muttered with closed eyes and sleepy voice.

"I don't know… But I'm never letting you go again." [y/n] whispered back against his neck and softly sighed. "It feels like it's been years since I got relaxed like this for the last time..."

Sirius just hummed back at her, but too focused on her touch to care. [y/n]'s body was laying above his, with their legs tangled together, her head buried on the crook of his neck, his nose feeling her scent coming from her hair, her soft hands resting on his bare shoulders and his hands under her (his) shirt caressing her back.

"I love you." "I love you, my love."

[y/n] fell asleep in a question of seconds while Sirius was trying to memorize this feeling of their bodies pressed against each other.

It was in moments like this that Sirius knew that home wasn't a place where you lived and it was comfortable, home was a person who you can always ask for help when needed and it doesn't matter where you'll feel like you're home.

[y/n] is Sirius' home and he couldn't be more grateful to be hers.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Taglist:

@cheapglitter @Weasleysmuch @missmulti @writtenbypics @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer @dralf0yy @buff-bork @rd155 @seppys-return-to-madness @luciferedits @old-soul-young-mind @pxtrickhxckstettxr @sleep-i-ness @marauderswhisperer @liberty01 @gweaslvy @weasleytwins-41 @siriuslysirius07 @turtlepad @ilovewinter101 @monimillion @simonsbluee @smokey102 @aberette13 @yourbloodyqueen @loverboyreid @eeshea @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @weareloserstogether

[lunar-jimin]

life goes on, it gets so heavy; the wheel breaks the butterfly

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reading

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, angst, fluffy ending, ceo!jungkook, secretary!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: cheating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, using pulling out as a protective method (don’t do this kids), dom!jungkook, sub!reader, cumming in pants, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, lovey-dovey sex, impreg kink

Summary: Despite being the golden heir of a wealthy empire, Jungkook is incredibly unhappy with life he’s been handed. When you show up in his office one morning, you change his life in the way he least expected, but in the way he needed the most. 

a/n: This is an anonymous commission for my BLM fundraiser!! If you would like to request something yourself, you can find the link to my official post here! I would also like to thank the lovely @nightowls388​ for beta reading!!

| masterlist | moodboard | playlist |

The air was too hot. Uncomfortable. Sticky. Jungkook loosened the tie around his neck in a desperate attempt to free himself from the confines of his suit. He hated August. It was always too warm, too sunny. He preferred the dark winter days where the snow silenced the universal white noise. Black suits weren’t as suffocating on forty degree days.

He glanced out the window of the Rolls Royce, taking in the pedestrians struggling not to melt in the intense gaze of the sun. He sympathized with their struggle. Even the blast of freezing draft from the air conditioner did little to spare him from the heat. He enjoyed watching people. He was fascinated by the little idiosyncrasies that formed them into unique individuals, each essential to making the world work. Besides, everyone’s life seemed more interesting to him than his own.

There was a point in his life when he was content with the plan his parents had laid out for him before he was in diapers. He looked forward to one day taking over his father’s company, marrying a nice girl, and starting a family. It was a simple plan and one that gained the approval of the adults in his life: something he was constantly vying for as an adolescent. It was what he was raised with. When he went to college, everything changed. For the first time in his existence, he wasn’t being inundated with his parent’s doctrine and found that there was more to life than running Fortune 500 companies. His parents were less than pleased to discover that he had accompanied his business major with a minor in photography. 

But despite the longing that had bloomed in him for something more intriguing than sterile offices and mundane board meetings, he still found himself back home where his parents once again instilled in him the desire to be the golden heir. A year after his return as the prodigal son, his parents set him with the woman who was now his wife. Three years after that, his father decided that he would rather spend his days on the golfing green rather than in sky-high conference rooms, so he handed off the company to Jungkook. Ever since Jungkook had been locked inside stuffy black suits and boring ties. And he absolutely hated it. 

He squirmed in his seat, his desire to escape increasing with each second he was locked in the back of the car. God, why was it so hot? He felt like crying- a feeling that had become increasingly common during the past six months. His brain felt like a bubbling volcano waiting patiently to explode. Sometimes, Jungkook imagined what would happen when it did. He would divorce his wife, leave his job, and move to some island in the Caribbean where he would spend the rest of his days taking pictures. It was a nice dream, but it was only that, a dream. 

He shook his head, trying to contain his runaway emotions. As the car came to a halt in front of the office building, Jungkook tightened his tie and grabbed his briefcase before exiting out into the scalding heat. If inside the car was bad, outside was absolute hell. It was so hot, Jungkook swore he was on fire. He frowned, rushing into the safety of the air-conditioned skyscraper in front of him before he broke out in a sweat. 

He sighed in relief the second he made it through the rotating doors. He had never been so grateful for the large air conditioning bill in all his life. His relief was so immense that it took a full minute to realize something was wrong. Normally, the second he walked through the door, his secretary greeted him with an iced coffee and a pastry, but as he looked around, his secretary was nowhere to be found. Yet another sigh escaped his mouth as he stepped into the elevator. Why of all days did today have to be the day his secretary magically disappeared? He shook his head. 

He noticed her the minute he arrived at his office floor. She was bent over a box, all her attention focused on searching for whatever object was eluding her. It took her a moment to notice his presence, but when she did, she bolted upright before scurrying in front of the desk, hands behind her back. Jungkook looked her up and down, transfixed by the beautiful stranger.

“Can I help you?”

His voice came out harsher than he meant it to and he cringed when you tried to disguise a wince. 

“Um, yes, I’m your new secretary, Mr. Jeon.”

His brows furrowed. 

“New secretary? What happened to the old one? He was perfectly fine.”

He didn’t remember any emails about his secretary leaving, although to be fair, he hadn’t been paying attention to much these days. He might physically be at work, but more often than not, his mind had drifted to far off places. Mostly island paradises. 

“He moved away.”

“Ah,” he gave you a once over, “and what is your name, new secretary?”

You answered him. He nodded as if you had given him the right answer on a quiz.

“And I don’t suppose anyone has told you how things work around here.”

“No sir.”

His hands clenched at the name, a picture of you on your knees before him (with much less clothing) popped into his head. He shook it off, trying to stay the least bit professional. He had a wife for god’s sake. 

“I see. Well, for future reference, I expect you to meet me each day in the lobby with an iced americano and a pastry,” he paused when he realized how demanding he sounded before softly adding, “No cherries though, I hate cherries.”

You nodded, grabbing a sticky note and jotting down his instructions.

“For now, just get settled in. Do you happen to know if I have any meetings today?”

You nodded again, “You have a lunch meeting with the Samsung marketing director at one, sir.”

There it was again. That damn formality. It was really going to get the better of him. 

“You will accompany me. I expect you to take notes, but don’t contribute to the conversation. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jungkook nodded before making a beeline to his office before he got a boner. He let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. His heart pounded in his chest and despite his desperate attempts, he’s chubbed up a bit in his pants. 

He didn’t want to admit that it’s because you might be the most attractive woman he has ever seen. He didn’t want to admit that he hasn’t been this turned on in months. Instead, he passed it off on the fact that he hadn’t had sex with his wife in three months which left behind quite a bit of built-up tension. 

The hours ticked by and Jungkook attempted to bury himself with the neverending stack of paperwork. He remembered there was a time when he loved to show off his signature (there was a reason fifteen-year-old him never had a girlfriend), but now he wanted to chop off his hands so that he could never sign a contract again. He was thankful when the clock struck eleven, releasing him from his office, even if it meant being stuck talking shop for an hour while eating expensive but flavorless food. 

He stepped out to find you arranging photos on the wall beside your desk. You glanced up when you heard the door open and flashed him a blinding smile. 

“Ready, sir?”

He nodded. The title was really going to be a problem. 

The meeting was the beginning of Jungkook’s personal purgatory. Every day you would greet him with a smile and the best pastries he had ever tasted. (He was surprised when you admitted to him that you had baked them yourself. If you weren't proving to be an amazing secretary, he would suggest that you open a bakery, but he’s selfish.) You were a good listener and caught onto his routines without a struggle. But every day you would show up dressed as pure temptation. It wasn’t even that your outfits were scandalous, just simple pencil skirts and pastel blouses, but you made them look like sin incarnate. It didn’t help that every night he went home to his wife who he barely noticed existed anymore.

There had been a point when he and his wife were, er, passionate. For the first couple of years, Jungkook even managed to convince himself that he was in love with her. But a couple of months ago, weekly dinners turned into once a month before they disappeared altogether. To make the situation worse, his mother was starting to complain about her lack of children, but he didn’t know how to break it to her that he couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed his wife, much less had sex with her. There were no bitter feelings or resentment, just indifference. He had briefly considered couples therapy before deciding against it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to attempt to salvage the crumbs of his marriage. 

You had only added fuel to the fire. Jungkook found himself just as infatuated with your mind as he was with your body. Not only did you laugh at his dumb jokes and listen to his whining, but you had witty contributions and easily found out-of-the-box solutions. He swore this quarter’s numbers would be higher just from you alone. And you flirted. He wasn’t sure at first, incredibly hesitant to respond in fear of a scandalous HR report. But when he caught your gaze on him when you thought he wasn’t looking one too many times, he realized there was a good chance that you liked him just as much as he liked you. 

Between you, his wife, and his desperate need to escape this world of offices, limos, and quid pro quo, his life was unraveling right in front of him. Still, he tried to hold onto all the pieces before they landed in a disappointed heap in his lap. He wasn’t quite ready to let it all go to shit. He definitely was not ready to meet his parents’ disapproving faces when he lost everything they had worked so hard to ensure he had. 

Two months after you began working, he found himself at an overcrowded party praying he was anywhere but there. Sadly, being a CEO meant that he wasn’t allowed to drink away his woes, lest he make a fool of himself in front of all the investors. Instead, he was forced to stay exhaustingly sober as he watched everyone around him devolve into debauchery. He found his wife pleasantly drunk near the bar talking to one of her friends whose face he recognized but couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.

“Having fun darling?”

He grinned, trying to play the role of loving husband. A role that had become increasingly difficult to mimic. 

“It’s your birthday party, I should be asking you. Have you even had a drink? Probably not,” she turned back to her friend, “He never drinks at these things, something about keeping up appearances. I think it’s dumb. It’s his own birthday for fuck’s sake.”

He rolled his eyes. There she went again, putting him down. It wasn’t the first time she had commented on his festive sobriety. She wasn’t a fan. Maybe it was because he only fucked her after he drank. Still, he conceded to her teasing, figuring one drink wouldn’t hurt. He waved down a bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please,” he turned back to his wife, “satisfied?”

She grinned at him before resuming ignoring him in favor of whatever fascinating conversation her friend was providing. He sighed before grabbing his drink and making his way out to the balcony. The air inside the penthouse was stuffy and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He was surprised to find you already out there, nursing your own drink in your hand. It wasn't unusual for people from the office to be at his personal parties. His father had taught him a long time ago that inviting your employees into your personal life was key to inspiring loyalty. It made them feel like they knew you and that they were important to you. But seeing as you were a relatively new addition, he had never seen you outside of the office and if you were sexy in skirts and blouses, the dress you had on should be illegal. He gulped before leaning next to you on the rail.

"Parties not your thing?"

You jumped, spilling a bit of your drink onto the dark street below. 

"Um, no, parties are fine. Rich people parties are just a whole new animal."

He chuckled.

"That's fair I suppose. Even I get sick of those fuckers. They do realize that they aren’t at the office anymore right? No need to brag about how well your stock is doing"

You smiled at him before looking back out at the city skyline. Despite having grown up with views like this, Jungkook still found it breathtaking. Almost as breathtaking as he found you. He took a sip of his drink, trying to drown his thoughts in alcohol. When he looked at you again, he felt his stomach churn. You were so beautiful that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A sigh escaped him. You broke out of your trance and turned to look at him.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Not really."

You raised your eyebrow.

"I just- I know this sounds stupid and pretentious- but I really just don't want to do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"This job. This lifestyle. This life. I was raised to be the perfect CEO with the perfect family, a copy of my father really, but that's not what I want. All my family has ever seen me as is the golden heir and honestly, I don’t know if I can be that anymore."

"Who do you want to be?"

"I don't know. A photographer I guess. And marry somebody I actually choose to fall in love with. And live away from the stress of trying to please every person in my life at the cost of my own happiness."

"You don't love your wife?"

"No, I do. Kinda. I just... My parents picked her out and at some point, I was smitten with her, but we're so different and she wants success and money and, well, I don't care about that as much. She’s not a bad person, she’s just obsessed with her books and her writing, and well, that doesn’t leave much room for family. I’m not much better though."

"Oh."

"And we haven't been too hot lately."

"How so?"

"Um, well, we're really distant, and, um, we haven't had sex in two months."

You snorted and he blanched. He usually never shared that kind of thing with anyone and here he was confessing his personal problems to you, his secretary. The alcohol must be affecting him more than he thought. This is why he didn't drink at parties.

"How? Has she seen you? I would be all over you if I was your wife.”

You realized what you had said a moment too late and you looked at him with wide eyes, a faint blush covering your face. He let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Would you now?”

You nodded before downing the rest of your drink. Jungkook felt something akin to butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach. He had known that he was fairly attractive, but something about hearing someone as ethereal as you admit it made his heart do flips. 

“Yeah, well, it’s really on me I guess. I haven’t really wanted to.”

“You don’t want to have sex?”

Relief washed over your face when you realized that he wasn’t going to linger on your slip up. 

“Yeah. Well no. I do want to have sex. Just not with her.”

“I see. Well, who do you want to have sex with?”

It was a small glimpse, almost imperceptible, but he saw the recognition in your face as you watched his eyes glance over you.

“Me?”

Jungkook gulped. What was he doing? What was he getting himself into? He had a life to protect. Expectations to uphold. And yet, here he was, considering risking it all for a secretary who was making him feel something for the first time in months. 

When he gathered enough courage to look at you, he found you staring at his lips. One second he’s waging a war with himself and the next your mouth is on his. Your lips are just as warm and soft as he thought they would be and for a moment he lets himself be absorbed by them. But reality rapidly floods back, and he pushes you away. You looked at him, obviously hurt by the rejection. 

“I’m sorry.”

He’s being honest. He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he was a coward who was afraid of what people thought of him. And the things people would think about him if they knew he kissed his secretary were not pretty.

“It’s fine.”

You failed to cover up the disappointment in your voice. 

“It’s not you. It’s just I have a wife, and a family with expectations and-”

He sighs.

“Look, it’s fine. Really. I’m just gonna get going, okay? I’ll see you on Monday.”

With that, you leave him to his own devices. He watches your figure go, before turning back to face the city. 

“Fuck.”

If work was hell before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Every day, he found himself torn between wanting to take you on his desk and wanting to never see you again. Ever since the party, the memory of your lips pressed on his had haunted him like an orphaned Victorian ghost with a thirst for revenge.  It was on replay in his mind to the point he couldn’t properly sleep anymore. He felt like shit, and he was pretty sure he looked it too, but if anyone noticed they neglected to say anything. 

You, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine. You hadn’t so much as mentioned the party. You performed your duties with your usual pep and continued to bring him your heavenly pastries. He resented you a little bit for being able to move on so easily. Here he was hung up on a moment he had fucked up, and there you were acting like nothing had happened. He wanted to scream. 

So he pulled back. He only talked to you if it was absolutely necessary. He never looked your way. He threw himself into his job. But you were still there, just as tempting as the first day he had seen you. His mind was being forced to choose between you alongside the island paradise he dreamed of, and keeping up appearances while pleasing his elders. A week passed and he was miserable. He was exhausted and all his will power had been depleted. 

That’s why he ended up doing what he did. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Friday rolled around and Jungkook was at his wit’s end. And then there you were, fifteen feet away from him flirting with some random guy from IT. (Namjoon, maybe?) It was harmless, but it didn’t stop Jungkook’s gut from twisting about inside of him. Why didn’t you flirt with him? Why didn’t you show him any signs of affection? He reminds himself that he rejected you, but it’s no help. Jealousy overwhelms him as he squirms in his leather chair. He barely noticed his hands clamped into fists or the way his jaw had clenched to the point of pain. When Namjoon leans over to whisper into your ear, Jungkook loses the small tidbits of control he had left. 

He pushes himself out of his chair and storms out, not bothering to say anything as he grabs your arm and pulls you away from a stunned Namjoon and back to his office, slamming the door behind him. 

“Can I help you?”

Your tone is curt and your face was twitching with displeasure. Jungkook realized that once he had you, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with you. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He would certainly like to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you couldn’t walk, but he was fairly certain that wouldn’t go over well with you right now. 

“Umm…” 

He felt a blush cross his face as he realized he was still holding onto your wrist. He released it before turning to pace back and forth across the marble floor. 

“Well?”

You folded your arms across your chest, your eyes were alight with something dangerous. Something that Jungkook found incredibly sexy. Before his brain could register with what he was doing, he found himself marching over to you, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. 

You stiffened against him, but before you had a chance to respond, he had pulled away from you. The guilt was almost immediate, drowning him in regret and confusion. You too looked confused, as you stood stock still, surprise plastered all over your face. Jungkook turned and walked back to his chair. 

“You can go.”

You seemed to barely register the words as you nodded before absent-mindedly wandering out of his office. Jungkook relaxed in his seat as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He knew he had feelings for you, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he couldn’t control. But he had lost control and now he wasn’t able to trust himself. And he didn’t know if he wanted to.

After that, things went back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be. He gathered the courage to interact with you again. But now instead of friendly glances and gestures, there were secret looks and subtle touches. Jungkook knew he was a wind-up toy one twist away from snapping, but he couldn’t help but indulge in your flirty gestures. 

He found himself growing bolder as the consequences he had once worried about seemed to be a world away. What started with the brush of a hand across the hip, grew to a hand on your thigh in the back of the car. Dark stares and lip bites plagued his day. At night, he would go home and lock himself in his private office where he would wrap his hand around his cock while conjuring up images of you in a variety of wanton states, all for him. 

He should’ve known that staying at work late with you would be a bad idea. Usually, you had the rest of the employees to keep you in check. With them gone, he found himself finding little reason to hold himself back.

“And so that’s why I think it’s a good idea to start engaging with younger consumers.”

You had been discussing ways to boost sales for the quarter, but he had stopped listening long ago, instead focusing on how your shirt was opened a button lower than usual.

“Mr. Jeon?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Of course. Younger consumers. Got it.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Maybe if you spent less time staring at my chest and more time focusing on these market studies, we would already have higher sales.”

“Sorry.”

“Sure you are.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

The drop of his voice surprised even him. You looked at him with an unreadable look from your perch on the edge of his desk.

“And what is so enticing about my chest?”

Jungkook gulped. Your eyes had darkened and he felt himself start to stir in his pants. 

“It’s a part of you. And you are so sexy I can barely control myself.”

You smirked, before sauntering over to him and lowering yourself into his lap. The scent of your perfume overwhelmed him as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Then don’t.”

Somewhere inside him, a cord snapped. The control he had been trying to reign in had broken free and he was left to his own primal devices. He pulled your lips to his, finally relishing in getting to properly kiss you. You responded instantly, lips moving against his as your hands buried themselves in his hair. You tugged on the strands and Jungkook moaned into your mouth, hips bucking up into you as his hand grabbed your ass. You returned his moans and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

His brain was a mess of emotions and hormones. He was overwhelmingly hard in his pants and your lips felt too good against his. You rolled your hips on top of him and he let a growl, the need to take you battling with his need to preserve the few remaining shreds of his dignity. 

He didn’t have the chance to make a decision though when the office door swung open and the head of a very confused janitor popped in. 

“Uh…I thought you were gone,” he stuttered, “...I’ll just leave.”

The janitor blushed before shutting the door. Jungkook turned back to look at you to find a similar rosy hue had graced your cheeks. 

“Um...I should probably get going too.”

Your voice was meek and the embarrassment of getting caught was plastered all over your face. He can’t blame you though, he isn’t doing too well himself. The fear of getting caught had left him deflated in more ways than one. 

“Yeah, sure, that’s probably good.”

You moved off his lap, readjusting your skirt as you do so. You grab your purse and jacket before walking to the door. Just as you were about to open it, you turn back to look at him. 

“Good night, Jungkook.”

He looked up surprised. It was the first time you had called him by his first name. It sounded heavenly coming from your lips. 

“Goodnight.”

Before he left for the night, he made sure to track down the janitor and offer him a healthy sum of money to stay quiet. He took it happily and continued on his way.

The weekend passed slowly for Jungkook. You plagued his thoughts with images of your rumpled skirt and the feeling of your hands in his hair. His wife was out of town for yet another business trip. He didn’t care. It just gave him more time with the thought of you while his hand was around his cock.

When Monday finally rolled around, Jungkook found himself the happiest he’d ever been to go to work. As he walked into the lobby, the sight of you washed over him like the cold water of a lake on the hottest day of summer. Something about your smile seemed to relieve him of all the heavy stress he was carrying on his shoulders. 

He almost made it through the day without losing control of himself. Despite all the glances he gave you, or the way you brushed your hand against his while you leaned over next to him to explain a chart, he managed to keep it together. But when you bent over in front of his desk to pick up a pen he dropped, he lost all control. The next thing he knew, he was slamming you against his office door, lips attacking yours, while his hips rutted into you. 

Your initial shock wore off almost instantly and you groaned as you melted into him. You wrapped a leg around his waist, dragging him closer to your core. The kiss was messy and he was sure your lipstick was ruined. A fervent need overwhelmed him as he humped you like a desperate teenager. You pulled away to catch your breath, dark eyes looking staring back at his own. 

“Fuck, you turn me on so much, baby,” he growled into your ear, hips moving faster. 

Words seemed to fail you as you whined back at him, pleasure contorting in your face. You suddenly let go of him, before dropping down to your knees. Instead of going to undo his pants like he expected, you simply gave a long lick over his bulge. Jungkook’s legs immediately turned to jello and he had to brace himself on the door to keep himself upright. 

“Oh fuck, what are you doing baby?”

“I’m getting you off. Do you want me to make you feel good sir?”

For once he was happy to hear the name. He didn’t get a chance to respond before you grabbed him through his pants. He threw his head back with a moan. It briefly occurred to him that people might hear through the thin walls, but your hand on his hard cock soon relieved him of all thought. It didn’t take much to get him to the point of no return. Even with all the nights spent with his fist and a bottle of lube he still felt like a rubber band getting stretched to its limit. You were barely touching him, but there he was, on the precipice of cumming in his own damn pants. He barely had time to warn you before spurts of hot cum filled his boxer briefs with white. “Oh, fuck.”

You giggled as he let out soft groans, cock twitching in its confines. The high of pleasure was quickly wiped away as the sensation of sticky underwear rose to his attention. 

“You’re a bad, bad girl, baby. You made me cum in my pants. Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“No, sir.” 

“They get punished.”

“And how are you going to punish me, sir?”

Jungkook had to stifle a groan. You were still on your knees in front of him, calling him ‘sir’. Despite having just had one of the better orgasms in his life, his dick twitched with interest. 

“Stand up.”

You quickly obey, rising to your full height, but keeping eye contact the entire time. 

“Take off your panties.”

Your eyes grew wide at his demand, but you obeyed him nonetheless. The second you grasped the pink lace in your hand, he snatched them from you, immediately bringing them up his nose. He inhaled, letting himself get lost in the musky aroma.

“Shit, baby, you smell so good. I can’t wait to eat your wet pussy. But not today. You were bad today and only good girls get their pussy eaten.”

You let out a whimper but kept your mouth shut, body frozen in place. He stuffed your panties into his pant pocket before walking over to his desk and taking a seat. 

“You may go.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, probably about your lack of undergarments, but you held your tongue and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and one last thing.”

You turned back to him.

“I’m going to need a new suit. It seems I’ve spilled some coffee on this one.”

He smirked and you nodded, before stepping out the door. 

He didn’t try to hold himself back after that. He would take you whenever the opportunity arose. It didn’t take long for him to fulfill his promise to eat you out. He would forever remember the way you whined his name while his mouth pulled not one, but two orgasms from your dripping pussy. And when he finally got to feel your mouth around his cock, he was fairly sure he had found nirvana. 

He wouldn’t fuck you though. He knew it was silly as if he would be betraying his wife any more than he already was by having sex with you, but for some reason, he felt the need to draw a line. To separate the boundary between the fantasy land he had created with you and the cold reality that he returned home to. His wife had become all but a ghost in his life, and as a result, Jungkook found you providing his only emotional support in addition to sexual release. He didn’t want to admit that somehow, in a few short months, you had grown from being just his secretary to his closest companion. 

He didn’t want to admit it because he was too afraid of where it would lead. He was already teetering on the edge to give it all up, even before you had shown up in his office looking like a gift from heaven, but now, now he was fairly certain that even the tiniest breeze would push him over. And he didn’t know if you would be there to catch him if he fell. 

But that didn’t stop him from starting to dream of a future with you. The island paradise in his mind expanded to include you. Flashes of laughing children, nights under the stars, and soft kisses danced through his mind. You would have your own bakery, he would take pictures, and together you would create your own little family. One that was far removed from the hassle and the stress of his painful existence.  

Jungkook was over the moon to discover that you would be accompanying him on a work trip to Japan. For one whole week, you would be one door away. Even if it was a ruse, Jungkook would be allowed to pretend, for one whole week, that you were his and he was yours alone. On the plane ride alone, he made you cum three times in the cramped bathroom. During the day, you would both try to hold it together. Merger meetings were laced with subtle glances and hidden touches. At night, you would become a whole other animal. 

You tested his limits. Dared him to give in and finally give you what you both wanted: him inside you. Every night you would knock on his door in translucent nighties that highlighted the fact you had discarded your bra. After the second night of showing up in see-through clothes, Jungkook decided to return the favor, opening the door with his shirt unbuttoned, leaving his abs out for anyone to see. While you were both visibly affected by each other’s teasing, neither of you gave in until the last moment, each of you leaping into each other's arms and making a mess of the hotel furniture. But he still didn’t fuck you. It was his line. His final frontier. 

On the last night of the trip, Jungkook suggested that they finally test out the jacuzzi on his balcony. Bad idea. When you showed up in a tiny red bikini that did little to protect your dignity, Jungkook felt himself spiraling out of control. Instead of greeting you like he usually did, he thrust a cocktail in your hand while trying to will his dick into submission. He made it through about ten minutes in the hot tub, trying to participate in regular conversation with you. But he couldn’t, not when your tits were sitting right there. He was no longer sure if the sweat dripping down his forehead was from the warm water or the pent up tension. 

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I can’t take this anymore,” he groaned.

“Can’t take what?”

Your eyes gleamed, daring him to admit to what they both knew he so desperately needed. 

“There is nothing more I want then to sink into your pretty pink pussy right now.” 

“So why don’t you?”

It was the first time you had questioned why he refused to have sex with you, and now that you were finally confronting him about it, he found himself at a loss for a reasonable explanation. The line that he thought he was creating by refusing to have sex with you had long ago been blurred to the point of no longer existing. And here you were, with your warm body inches from him, wanting him just as much as he wanted to you and he knew that he was done for. 

“Fuck it.”

With that, he pulled you onto his lap, attaching his lips to yours for the three millionth time. He would never tire of your kisses, the way they comforted his soul, and quenched his constant need for your touch. You eagerly responded to him, tongue licking the seam of his lips. As the two of you began to explore each other’s mouths, his hands came up to the string keeping your bikini top together and gave it a quick jerk, letting the scarlet cloth fall from your body. He pulled back and groaned at the sight of your perfect tits, the water around you swishing as he rolled his hips up into yours.

You whined out, “Fuck, baby. Just like that. God, I can’t wait for you to be inside me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was low with lust, “Me neither, baby. You’re gonna be such a good slut for me aren’t you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Even after months of you calling him ‘sir’ in less than professional situations, Jungkook still hadn’t gotten used to it. He felt every inch of his skin tingle with sheer pleasure every time the word fell from your shameless mouth. You whined, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you pressed down on top of him, just as desperate as he was. He moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone, where he stopped to take the time to leave a rosy mark that signified you were his and his alone. Once he was satisfied with it, he continued down your chest, taking one of your pretty pink nipples in his mouth, sucking on the hardened bud. You moaned out his name, hips stuttering against his. God, he loved your breasts. 

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, pulling on them to the point of pain. Jungkook didn’t care though. He loved when you showed him just how good he could make you feel. It made him feral. Sure, receiving pleasure was gratifying, but there was nothing quite like watching you squirm from his ministrations.

He reluctantly pulled away from your tits to pull the ties keeping your bikini bottoms intact before discarding the garment in the same manner as your top, leaving you naked on top of him. He took a moment to pull back and admire how beautiful you looked. You sat there as he looked you over, a blush rising to your cheeks. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to make yourself less vulnerable to him.

“Oh no baby, don’t hide yourself from me,” he gently pulls your arms away, “you’re too beautiful to stay covered up.”

Your blush intensified. He smiled at you, wrapping his large arms around your body and carrying you out of the hot tub. Your lips reconnected with his as he stumbled his way into the hotel room, tossing you on the king-sized bed. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

His voice was as dark as his eyes. You nodded in response, voice escaping you. 

“That’s my baby.”

He pulled off his wet swim trunks before joining you on the bed, where your wet body had begun to soak the sheets. If he had his way, they would be much wetter by the time the night was over. He wasted no time diving into your pussy, lips attaching to your clit, drawing out your sweet moans. His fingers found your entrance, circling it a few times to collecting your slick, before slipping one in. Your back arched at the sensation and Jungkook let out a chuckled against your clit. 

Your whines grew higher and he could tell that you were getting close to finishing. After months of exploring your body, he was well acquainted with how to play your pussy like an instrument, conducting your symphony of pleasure. He slipped in a second finger, crooking them upwards in search of the spot he knew would make you scream. When you cried out he knew that he had found it and not five seconds later, you were coming all over his digits. 

“Fuck, Kook.”

“I hope you don’t think that we’re done yet,” he growled as his fingers slowed before leaving your sopping cunt, “when I’m through with you, you won’t be able to walk for days. I'll have to carry you to every meeting and explain to them that I fucked you too hard for you to function.”

You clenched around nothing at his words and he mindlessly took his cock in his hands, giving it a few quick strokes. 

“You like that don’t you? You would love for the entire world to know how much of a whore you are for my cock.”

“I would. I’m a whore for your cock, please give it to me. I’ve been a good girl.”

Without bothering to warn you, he lined himself up before sinking into you. You both groaned at  the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his cock. After months of dreaming of what your pink walls would feel like around him, he could confirm that the sensation was much better than anything his imagination had conjured. 

He started with slow thrusts, trying to give himself time to come off the edge he had already been worked up to. Your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you. As soon as you had adjusted to his girth, you began to roll your hips up to meet his.

“Go faster.”

“Uh uh, if you want Daddy to go faster, you have to beg like a proper slut.”

It just slipped out. Jungkook knew he had a daddy kink, but it generally stayed repressed deep within after his wife had shamed him for it. But you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you squeezed him even tighter.

“Please Daddy, please go faster. Fuck my tight pussy.”

He conceded to your wishes, pulling all the way out, before thrusting back in. He set a tireless pace, pounding into you so hard the bed began to shake. He leaned down, meeting your lips in a sloppy kiss. Your teeth clacked together, but Jungkook didn’t care. He just wanted to be as close to you as possible. 

He pulled away from your lips and his cock twitched at the visual of the string of saliva connecting your mouths. Without him to silence you, your moans mingling with the sound of skin slapping creating a beautiful symphony for Jungkook’s ears. 

He felt himself approach the edge, honing in on his release. Luckily for him, your pussy was tightening around him, signaling that you were close too. 

“Fuck, are you gonna cum for me, baby? Are you gonna come around Daddy’s cock like a good girl?”

“Yes Daddy, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-”

Your voice broke off into a high pitched moan as you clenched around him. You threw your head back, hands clawing into his skin. The mix of pain and pleasure sent him over the edge with you. He quickly pulled out before covering your pussy and stomach in white strands. As soon as the waves of ecstasy rescinded, he collapsed on top of you, exhaust claiming his muscles. 

He laid there for a minute before hopping up and heading to the bathroom. When he came back out, warm towel in hand, he found you passed out on the soaked sheets. His heart skipped a beat at your blissed-out face and for a moment he wished he could feel as peaceful as you looked. After making sure you were thoroughly clean, he collapsed on the bed next to you. Sleep was quick to come to him, but not before he took you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

A dam had burst. The two of you went at it like rabbits, he would take you any and every way could, whenever he could. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would take you in the back of the limo, in the elevator, empty conference rooms. It was to the point he was sure the entire company knew of your amorous relations, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he thought about was you. Even the fear of disappointing his parents was beginning to diminish. As his feelings for you grew and blossomed, his desire to please anyone else faded into a faint buzz in the background of his mind. You had him whipped. 

He knew things were bad when his five year anniversary with his wife rolled around and he didn’t feel a thing when she told him that she wouldn’t be able to be there due to some book tour. Sure, a little part of him was upset that she didn’t care enough to even try to change the tour dates, but he knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on. In fact, he was rather grateful he wouldn’t have to plan some dinner to celebrate a love that had died long ago.  

When you heard that he was spending his anniversary alone, you had offered him some company. He felt a twinge of guilt about the idea of having sex with a woman that wasn’t his wife on their anniversary, but not enough to stop him from inviting you over. So there you were, in his foyer, with an overnight bag, a bottle of wine, and a smile that could light up the heavens. He grinned back at you, taking the bottle and leading you into the living room. 

“I’ll get us some glasses, yeah?”

“Sure. Do you mind if I change? Work clothes aren’t the most comfortable.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. There’s a bathroom down the hall to your left.”

When he returned to the living room with two glasses and a bottle opener, you were curled up on the couch in a tank and shorts. You were flipping through the photography book that he kept on the coffee table. You were so immersed in the pictures that you didn’t notice his presence.

“So whatcha want to do?”

You jumped, startled by the sound of his voice. 

“It’s your anniversary, you should decide.”

He placed the opener and the glasses on the table next to the bottle before taking a seat next to you. 

“I don’t know. How about we just drink and talk for a bit?” he paused, “Maybe that’s stupid.”

“Nope. Nothing about you is stupid.”

There was your damn smile again. Jungkook hated the way his heart pounded faster because of it. He smiled back at you. It only took a few sips of the merlot before Jungkook had begun to relax. He had been drunk around you plenty of times, but there was something about wine that made him want to pour his entire heart out to you. 

He watched as you laughed at your own joke, strands of hair that had fallen loose from your tight ponytail danced on your cheek. The world seemed to slow down a little, time coming to a halt, making the room for him to exist with just you and no one else. It was somewhere in that warm, fuzzy space that the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I think I love you.”

Even the air in the room stilled. You stared at him, eyes wide with shock.

“What?”

You looked like a deer in headlights. Jungkook felt like one.

“Nothing. I was just running my mouth. Don’t mind me. Go back to telling me about this dream bakery of yours.”

Much to his chagrin, you didn’t budge, eyes still fixed on his rigid body. Your surprise had evaporated and you were now looking him up and down as if you were trying to analyze his inner thoughts. You both sat frozen for what felt like ages before you moved to kneel in front of him, taking his shaky hands in yours. When you opened your mouth, your voice was soft, caressing his soul.

“I love you too.”

The world stopped in its tracks. Jungkook swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. And then your lips were on his and even though he had kissed you more times than he could count, this felt different. This felt like the collision of two planets, the implosion of a star. Fireworks weren’t enough to describe the cascade of emotions pouring through him. His hands grasped your cheeks, gently caressing the soft skin. You hummed against his mouth as he pushed you back to lie on the couch, while your legs spread to make room for him between your thighs. 

Jungkook swore he felt a tear trickle down his cheek, but he couldn’t tell if it was from you or him. He honestly didn’t care. The woman he had grown to love loved him back. He now knew that you would catch him if he fell. And so he let himself tumble over the precipice he had once been so terrified of.  He could finally admit that your embrace was home and that your arms eyes were the safety he never felt. He loved you. You loved him. The stars had aligned. 

He trailed his kisses away from your lips and to the crook of your neck where he inhaled. You smelled of the remnants of your perfume mixed with your own personal scent. He swore if he breathed it in enough, he would get high off it. Instead, he placed soft kisses on the delicate skin, before taking it in between his teeth, shamelessly marking you. The whole world would know that you belonged to him, almost as much as he belonged to you. 

You moaned as he sucked the bruised skin into his mouth before shifting lower so that his face was right between your breasts. Your flimsy tank top did nothing to stop him from tearing it in two. 

“Jesus, Kook,” you groaned as he took in the sight of your braless chest, bare before him. 

“What? I can buy you all the tank tops you want. I would buy you the whole world.”

And it was true. If that’s what it would take to make you happy, that’s what he would do. Tears glinted in your eyes at his words before Jungkook ripped a moan out of your mouth when he took a nipple in his. He sucked on it before releasing it with a pop. 

“These are the best tits in the world. I love them almost as much as I love you.”

He dove back in taking the neglected breast in his hand, rubbing the nipple. Your hips bucked up into him, desperate for more concrete pleasure than the little he was teasing you with. 

“Slow, baby, I’ll get there. Slow.”

You whined in response, head thrown back against the arm of the couch while Jungkook swirled his tongue over you. Even though he was unbelievably hard in his sweats, he found no motivation to do anything about it, his sole focus on you and your pleasure. 

He moved to kiss down your stomach. When he reached the hem of your shorts, he pulled them off, before moving to kiss over your lace panties. An obvious wet patch marked the center and Jungkook once again took the time to stop and smell you. The aroma overwhelmed him, driving him mad with carnal lust. 

“Fuck baby, your dripping, and I’ve barely touched you yet.” 

“That’s ‘cause you’re taking forever. Please baby, I need you.”

And how could he deny you when you were so sweet and all fucked out, just for him. He pulled your soaked panties to the side, groaning at your soaked, pink lips. He dove in, licking one long striped from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit. You bucked against him desperate for more. 

In response, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place. His tongue found your clit, eliciting angelic moans from you while he drew abstract shapes on your bundle of nerves. Your thighs began to quiver in his grip and he smiled against you. The thought of you coming from just his mouth had his dick twitching in excitement. 

“Fuck, Kookie, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s right baby, cum all over tongue.”

Seconds later, you're soaking his mouth while you writhed in pleasure. But Jungkook didn’t stop. He was too blissed out with his face in your cunt. He would stay like this forever if he could. He pulled one hand away from your thigh, to sneak around to your entrance, a finger slipping inside.

“Oh god, Kook, it’s too much.”

“You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

You looked like you were about to protest before he curled his finger up, hitting your g-spot. You cried out, more slick pouring out of you, if that was possible. He knew that there was a large wet spot staining his ten-thousand-dollar couch, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Slipping another finger in you, he began to flick with his tongue, daring you to come again. It didn’t take long.

“Oh shit, Kook, shit, shit, gonna cum, shit, shit-”

He’s never heard you scream so loud in all the months he’s had the privilege of giving you orgasms. Before he could properly register what was happening, you were squirting all over him. Your hips bucked out of your control as you painted his face with your orgasm. Jungkook swore that if he had any less self-control, he would’ve come all over in his pants. 

As you came down from your high, Jungkook scooped you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, giving you a few moments to recover as he stripped himself of his own clothes. You sat up, watching him closely as he slowly revealed himself to you. He was well built, he knew that, but you often told him how much you appreciated his muscles, as if the way you kissed and bit his abs weren’t enough of a clue. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t started working out more just to please you. 

But he also knew that he could never step foot in a gym again and you would still love him just as much. That was the difference between you and his wife. You loved him without condition, without the need for him to be someone he wasn’t. His wife had fallen in love with only one version of him, a version that no longer existed. 

He joined you on the bed, crawling up between your legs, giving you a soft kiss when he reached your lips. You fell back on the pillows letting him take in your face, your body, you. He bucked up against you, tip rubbing your clit and you let out simultaneous moans. 

Just when he was about to slip into you, his phone rang on the bedside table. He groaned, lifting himself up to see who dared to call him when he was about to have sex with the love of his life. A flash of guilt rushed through him when he saw his wife’s name light up the screen. Of course it was her. Despite everything, this was a woman who would keep up appearances until her dying breath. And here he was, about to have sex with another woman in their shared bed. He sighed, swiping to ignore the call, before tossing it back on the table. 

This time, he didn’t wait to enter you, thrusting in immediately. He groaned at the feeling of your soft walls encapsulating him. Ever since the first time you had had sex, he had always made sure to use a condom, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that he wasn’t using one now. Being inside you without the extra barrier felt so intrinsically right. In fact, part of him was excited about the idea of going raw and risking getting you pregnant. 

“You wanna get me pregnant?”

Your voice was soft and curious. He stilled inside of you, 

“Umm…?”

His voice trailed off as he tried to come up with a reasonable response. His brain failed him. 

“It’s okay if you do. It’s kinda hot actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having your kid.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the moan that fell out of his mouth. He thrust softly in you. So many hormones were flooding his brain that he could barely focus on what was happening. 

“Well, then I guess it’s my duty to make sure you’re nice and pregnant for me by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, Kookie,” you whined, “give it to me. Want you to cum in me. Want your baby.”

The two of you met in a messy kiss as Jungkook pounded into you, balls slapping your ass. Desperation flooded him, determination to knock you up with his child overriding every other need. He’d never had the desire to get someone pregnant like this before. There was something about you that pulled at all his primal instincts. 

You were tightening again, your moans drowning out the sound of skin slapping accentuated by Jungkook’s own grunts. Jungkook himself wasn’t too far from finishing himself, having been on edge since you squirted all over him. 

“Fuck baby,” you moaned, “you fuck me so well.”

“Yeah. Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum so that I can get you pregnant?”

“Yes, fuck, I love yo-” 

Your voice faded into a scream as tears rolled down your cheeks as you came for the third time that night. The look on your face triggered Jungkook’s own orgasm. He roared as jets of white cum covered your inner walls. His hips stuttered as he chanted your name. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him deep within you. 

He rolled over without pulling out, keeping you tight in his arms.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “hope that did the trick.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he smiled. 

You grinned back.

“Are you not gonna pull out?”

“We gotta keep my cum in you so we make sure it does the trick.”

“Okay,” you chuckled.

“What?”

He pouted.

“You’re just cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Sure...”

He giggled when you rolled your eyes, pressing a peck on your lips. The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, talking until sleep carried you off into dreamland. 

Jungkook woke the next morning before you. He took a moment to admire your face, not believing that you were really all his. He softly kissed your forehead before wiggling his way out of your embrace. 

He quietly slipped on a tee and some sweats before making his way to the kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. While he waited, he checked his phone, expecting to find a voicemail from his wife. He was surprised to find none. He opened the phone app and his stomach dropped. There at the top of his recent calls was a twenty-minute call with her. He must have accidentally answered it. She must have heard everything. Anxiety crept up on him as he began to pace the white kitchen floor. Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was dialing. 

“Hello?”

Her voice was groggy.

“Hi.”

His voice quivered. 

“What do you want Jungkook?”

“Oh, umm, I’m sorry I guess,” his voice is quiet, “For what you heard.”

“You mean listening to you moan about how you wanted to get your secretary pregnant?”

He cringed at her dripping sarcasm. 

“Yeah. That.”

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Jungkook,” she sighed, “I think we both knew something like this was going to happen.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t mean that it was okay for me to cheat on you.”

“That’s true.”

They both stay silent for a minute, letting it all sink in. 

“I suppose that means this is the end of the road for us then, huh?”

“Yeah, it is. But it’s okay. We weren’t meant to be. All things being said, you sound like you really love her.”

“I do, I really do.”

“And if I’m being honest, I’ve kinda had a thing for my editor for a while.”

“Seokjin?”

He was honestly surprised that he remembered his name.

“Yeah.”

They both laughed. 

“We’ll talk when you get back, yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Goodbye.”

He hung up before leaning against the counter, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. A breath of relief escaped as all the weight he had been carrying for so long fell from his shoulders. It was over. His dead marriage was finished and now he had the rest of his life to love you. He laughed giddily before running to wake you up and tell you the news. 

Six months later, he’s on a beach in Jamaica, trying to take a picture of you without you noticing. He’s almost successful, your nose is buried too deep in a paperback you had propped up on your pregnant stomach, but you looked up when you heard the shutter click.

“Jungkook,” you groaned, “I told you not to take pictures of me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help it. You're too sexy carrying my baby.”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades.

“Whatever. As long as no one else sees them.”

“Of course, baby. I’m keeping you all to myself.”

You grinned before turning back to your book.

A month after his conversation with his now ex-wife, their divorce had been finalized. He’d simultaneously quit his job as CEO, unafraid of disappointing anyone else at the expense of his happiness. He had made more than enough money to support the two, soon to be three, of you for the rest of your life. Together, you had moved to Jamaica, where you were working on opening a bakery and he had begun a fairly successful photography business. And in three months, the two of you would welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world.

He sighed, overly content with his life. He glanced down to your hand to spot the sparkling diamond on your ring finger. A month ago, he had taken you out on a boat ride where he had asked you to be his wife. You had eagerly accepted. 

Now he was blissed out in that island paradise he had dreamed about all those months ago. His stress levels were an all-time low. And, sure, maybe his parents weren’t that happy with him, (all though his mother was over the moon when he announced the impending arrival of a grandchild, finally), but whenever he woke in the morning with you by his side, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. You were his whole world, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. 

masterlist

[jinxedpanda4life]

DamiRae Hospital AU?

  No I am not writing one, if I could write well I would though! So here are some HCs for a hospital AU.    If someone decides to write this then I’ll be your first reader. Also I am sort of basing things off of Grey’s Anatomy just a bit and my limited knowledge of the medical field.

- Starts of as 1st year residents, specialties may vary

- The “Titans” are residents and 1st years that show great promise, this doesn’t really play a role its just what people call them behind their backs

- Dr. Kori Anders is a OBGYN (women parts and birth) resident, a year or two away from finishing

- Dr. Richard “Dick” Grayson is is a surgery resident, trained by the hospital owner Bruce Wayne (who is a world renowned surgeon, has awards, etc), specifically general surgery

- Dr. Garfield Logan is pediatrician (kid doctor) res, bonds well with kids, but is considering going back to school to become a vet instead

- Dr. Jaime Reyes is an oncology (cancer doctor), having had cancer as a teen and is now forever trying to rid the world of it, works mostly with kids and teens

- Dr. Jonathan Kent is a physical therapist that works with pain management. Up beat guy and is always trying to brighten his patient’s lives.

- Dr. Damian Wayne is a surgical intern, blood thirsty little thing, hoping to become a neurosurgeon (brain, spine) (or cardiothoracic (heart, lungs) both are competitive)

- Dr. Raven Roth is an anesthesiologist (the drug person that knocks you out) and is starting her surgical internship (she wanted to do more than just help people get high essentially or whatever) has no current preference for any specific surgical field

- Add in characters:

-- Dr. Jason Todd, trauma surgeon (fits too well)

-- Dr. Timothy Drake diagnostician (medical detective basically) 

-- Dr. Donna Troy gynecologist

-- Terra Markov is a nurse (i don’t like Terra but nurses are the actual best)

- Story stuff:

- Damian and Raven meet as they are put under the guidance of the same resident

-Damian has an automatic dislike for Raven because she knows everyone already and is equally, if not much more, knowledgable about surgery, the OR, the ER, protocol, etc  He also thinks she is cold because she rarely shows emotion (pot kettle Damian)

- Raven can always be found in the medical archives researching old cases and studying new ones, Damian stumbles upon her when looking for an old cardiomegaly case (enlarged heart).

- Raven gets along with all of the past ‘Robins’ making her a go to intern

- Garfield can be seen whenever he is not needed trying to flirt with Nurse Markov and often goes to Raven to sulk 

- Damian and Raven are always early to pre-rounds and are typically the first ones there (usually early in the morning, getting there before 500)

- Jon bumps into Damian more often than not and they start becoming friends (Damian is reluctant at first and is still you know Damian about everything), Damian even recommends patients to him 

- Though Damian doesn’t want to really ‘hang out’ with anyone he reluctantly hangs out with the Titans, because of Jon and Dick

            - When in a large group when at a bar, club or whatever Damian tends to stay close to Raven because 1) they actually have things to talk about 2) she isn’t loud

- Raven & Damian are both assigned to a case that is frankly befuddling and have to start spending long nights and early mornings together to figure it out

- Over that period of time they learn things about each other:

-- Raven learns: 

Damian has a dog (Titus) and cat (Alfred) 

He is single (Kori told her) and lives in an apartment close to the hospital

He has lived in various countries

He is trained in multiple martial arts 

He prefers his tea with brown sugar and a slice of lemon 

His eyes are a true emerald color with a ring of gold and flecks scattered within 

He may hide it well but when Raven compliments him he becomes flustered

He speaks to himself in Arabic when he curses, trying to remember something, doesn’t want anyone to know what he is saying

He isn’t always an asshole

When he actually smiles a true and genuine smile, she has heart palpitations

-- Damian learns:

Raven has two tattoos (neither are a bird), a gang tat (she is saving up to get it removed), and a mantra in Azarathian; Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She immigrated from Azarath when she was around 8

Her notes are in Azarathian

She actually feels a lot of emotion and knows how to control them

If she is not reading about a current or past case she is reading any book or file she can get her hands on, he has caught her reading in multiple different languages; Azarathian, English, French, Russian, Arabic, Dutch, Mandarin, (could be more or less)

She lives alone and has a cat, Nevermore, and thanks to Dick he already knew she was single

She likes all tea, no matter how prepared, but prefers the sweetener to be honey

Her hair is black but shines purple, especially under the ER lights

Her eyes are a purple that at first glance look blue, like Elizabeth Taylor, he realizes though her eyes are galaxies on their own 

When she smiles the world actually stops moving, her eyes shine like stars and he never wants the world to start moving again

She always wears a necklace with a gold and ruby ring at all times (it was her mother’s wedding ring)

- When Damian starts having le feelings for Raven he considers actually seeking medical advice as this has never happened to him before

- Raven tries her best to contain her feelings when at work, going so far as one day a month staying home just to scream, cry and feel her feelings

- It does not help that new feelings towards Damian start popping up, especially since he starts bringing her tea and hanging out with her at work

- During the middle of their 2nd year of residency someone holds Raven hostage in the hospital to fix someone that person loves (this person had connections to Trigon and knew who Raven was)

- That was not a fun time for either Damian or Raven; Damian was outside the hospital pacing trying to figure something out with the other Titans trying to calm themselves and him down

- Shots are fired and when all is said and done, Raven gets shot in the abdomen and the hand (she was in ICU for a hot sec)

- Damian seemed to be there every time Raven woke up, he was always checking on her during rounds even though he wasn’t on her case

- Raven did have to have surgery on her hand and in her abdomen (idk where i’m not getting that specific), she hated being, in her words, coddled 

- Even though Raven was right handed (the one that got shot) she learned how to do everything, writing, eating, going to the bathroom, etc. (many of the other residents are impressed since she keeps working on it after her other hand heals)

- Raven’s room also becomes a space for other residents to destress and just vent about their day. She listens and gives advice, all without looking up from whatever she was doing. 

- During this time Raven becomes hooked on Pretty Pretty Pegasus

- Raven’s room is also full of cards, flowers, etc all from fellow staff and some from patients. When she leaves (she spends a couple weeks in thanks to multiple surgeries, recovery, and other minor injuries) all of the gifts litter her apartment, the cards end up in a box by her desk, she presses the flowers, and stuffed animals are donated to children’s shelter (she keeps some that she has grown attached to)

- During this time Damian is more of an ass than usual (people notice and tease him)

- Damian at some points keeps working without breaks/sleep for hours on end. Dick pulls him aside after noticing, scolds and forces him to sleep in one of the on call rooms. (He really wanted him to go home, but Damian wasn’t leaving)

- Once Raven was discharged Damian and Garfield help her back home (clothes + gifts + Raven w/a healing hand/other injuries = need help) the other Titans would have helped but were needed at the hospital

- Garfield leaves after dropping off Raven and Damian (and her stuff) as he is called in on a Peds case (could be fake, may not be) and Raven & Damian spend the rest of the time basically watching terrible movies. (with Nevermore sitting on both of them)

- That is the night Damian realizes that not only does he like Raven, but he like likes her. He starts devising plans on how to get her to date him. 

- All his plans basically are thrown out the window because of one reason or another (he kept overthinking it)(poor guy)

- It is not until their 3rd year of residency that Raven realizes her feelings towards Damian (Have I made it clear she likes him? I can’t remember...)

- She realizes her feelings when she has to crash at his place for a night (because he lives ridiculously close to the hospital, like how expensive is that??) and he tries to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible 

- She never realized how much he cared for her? Like she was always helping him out and there for him but she never realized he reciprocated that care? *Shocker*

- Raven becomes kind of a mess because of all her emotions that she is trying to bottle up. (all the corks are disintegrating and the jar is overflowing)

- Raven is during her Ortho rotation (bone surgeon people, they are cool, ik from experience) that she actually gets a good release for her emotions (setting peoples bones and drilling and hammering in pins is actually therapeutic) 

- Raven thinks that may be the specialty she chooses

- Damian saw her as a mess and could not fathom why she was said mess, he figured it was about a romantic interest after someone made an offhand comment about her love life and she became a blubbering mess (very un-Raven like)

- After all of well *motions with hands* that Raven asks why Damian doesn’t have a s/o or someone

- He says there is only person that he has been meaning to ask out (looks pointedly at Raven)

- All Raven says is “Go for it.”

And that is where my HCs end. Now if anyone who happens upon this post decides to write a Medical AU with any of these please tag me, tell me, message me. 

You do not have to give me credit, I just want to read it. 

This took me a couple of days to write up, so if it is disjointed I apologize. 

If anything needs to be corrected for any reason let me know!

 I hope this fuels some imaginations!

-I may post more HC AU things if they come to mind, we will have to see.

[suganovakawa]

hi! i found ur blog through saudade and was like!! this the good kush! and earlier i was scrolling through ur blog and saw the jealous hcs and suga's was so accurate 😭 i can totally see him being all smiley and passive aggressive like 'do you want something haha? >:)' anyways! can i request reader being sad and doubting their relationship with noya and tanaka (separate) bc they always talk abt kiyoko and how beautiful she is and how they feel abt her? thank u so much, pls take care of urself!!!

the potential this one has OMG yes i am on it 🥺 u better be taking care of yourself too , anonnie !!!

𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 .

karasuno boys remind you that you’re always going to be number one in their eyes, no matter what !

— check out my masterlist !!

we all know kiyoko is a goddess , but it’d be nice if your boyfriend could give you some of that love too , y’know ? let’s see how these two make up for giving kiyoko too much attention .

a / n : YALL . THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS THATS SO HARD FOR MY BRAIN TO REGISTERSJFJJDJFJD AHHHHH ILY GUYS SO MUCH 🥺💞💘💓💓💘💞💘💞

also yuu’s came out really really long so do be prepared for that — ryu’s isn’t as long because he praises kiyoko the same way yuu does , so there’s no need to repeat everything fjjdndjsjd

— ask to be part of my gen taglist !

taglist : @yams046 @janellion @avylee

yuu nishinoya

yuu has bunches of love to go around , believe me

but sometimes , it really doesn’t seem that way , y’know ?

you knew even before your relationship with the guardian deity that he was a simp for kiyoko ; how he also fell for you was even a surprise for you

but noya definitely does try and show you that you that you have a special place in his heart , even if he gawks over the team manager at times

but when his appreciation for kiyoko gets out of hand , oh it really gets out of hand

the first time it happened , you were completely shattered — however , you weren’t sure how to even handle a situation like that

everyday of just — “ kiyoko ” this , “ shimizu ” that . . . it was a never ending cycle of yuu going on and on about how the karasuno team manager was just so perfect at everything she does , that she was the paragon of beauty and so forth

and while you held no grudge against kiyoko — hell , she made it very clear that she had absolutely no interest in yuu . like , multiple times — seeing him gush over her so much made you feel self conscious in yourself

you were his significant other , weren’t you ?

so why wasn’t he treating you that way ?

it came to a point where you just didn't say anything the moment yuu brought up kiyoko . there was no point in trying to stop him or changing the subject , because once he was on a roll ; he was on a mf roll

god , even the first years could see that noya was giving kiyoko more attention than you

the only one besides noya who didn't notice this was tanaka , who was just as smitten over kiyoko as the libero was

and everyday , it was the same old topic ; didn't they have anything else to talk about ?

" DUUUUUDE . YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED . "

" WHAT , BRO ? "

" KIYOKO PICKED UP MY PENCIL FOR ME WHEN I DROPPED IT IN FRONT OF HER TODAY . I AM NEVER USING ANOTHER PENCIL AGAIN . "

" DAMN , YOU'RE SO LUCKY ! I NEED TO GET HER TO DO THAT FOR ME TOO "

and your snapping point : yuu choosing to help kiyoko clean stuff up instead of walking you home after practice

was this his way of breaking up with you ? whatever it was , you couldn't handle it anymore . just seeing yuu give so much of his time to kiyoko was heartbreaking for you ; you even began to question if you really were a significant other figure to nishinoya

you stopped showing up to practice

and shortly after , you avoided and ignored the second year as a whole

it took about less than two days for noya to realize that you weren’t around for him

and even worse — you seemed to have no interest in talking to him when he did try and approach you

uh oh , he really messed up now

he approached the third years with his head hung low , wanted advice on how to talk to you again

and they were willing to help , of course ; but not before giving him absolute hell for not noticing his own actions sooner

it took three tries to get you to talk to noya again

daichi approached you first after class , wanting you to come back to practice again ; you politely told him no , and before he could press on further , you hastily turned heel and walked away

second attempt was suga and asahi , suga was more straightforward with his attempt at bringing you back , while the other was just there mainly for support ; he explained that noya felt apologetic and wanted to make it up to you , but you countered with “ if he really was sorry , he’d come himself . not make you do it for him . ” and you left

third time’s a charm — kiyoko was the final person to confront you

you were still upset , and she understood that completely — she explained that even with noya’s , ehem , worship over her , he still cares about you deeply ; he just gets overly excited and doesn’t know how to control it

and she added that there was no practice due to ukai being out that day , but yuu was still waiting for you in the gym

you finally gave in , walking slowly to see kiyoko’s words speak for themselves — there he was , sitting against the wall with his eyes staring intently at the ground

“ yuu . . . ”

his head popped upwards the moment he heard your voice , scrambling to his feet to sprint to you as fast as his two legs could take him

before you could say anything else , he jumped forward and pulled you into the biggest hug he could offer ; shakily , you hugged back with the same intensity , burying your face in him as he just continued to squeeze you as if you’d disappear if he dared let go

he began to blubber all sorts of apologies — about how stupid of a boyfriend he was , that he should’ve noticed he was hurting your feelings sooner , that he shouldn’t have been fawning over kiyoko

he would’ve continued , but you shut his mouth with a finger , smiling softly as you shook your head

“ it’s okay , i forgive you . it just . . . hurt my feelings , is all . i know you like kiyoko a lot , so i didn’t want to — ”

“ no , y/n . you’re my s.o. , i shouldn’t have been like that . you’re my priority , not kiyoko . she used to be , but not anymore . i know that now , and that will never happen again , i promise . ”

and believe me , his redemption went all out

he'd walk you to and from school , catch up with you after every class , walk you to lunch , compliment your clothes and remind you of how much he appreciates you having in his life - kiyoko basically became nonexistent to him after that

tanaka didn't seem to mind - now he had the manager all to himself KDKSKKD

once in a while he gets caught up again , but this time he's more wary of your feelings ; if he sees that your mood has changed even a little bit , he'll ask you if he's too much , and then he'll forget about kiyoko again

yuu definitely has a long way to go until he's a perfect boyfriend , but he'll dedicate himself to make sure you know that you're irreplaceable in his eyes

ryuunosuke tanaka

something tells me ryu would definitely be more attentive than yuu , but he's still a total simp for shimizu

the moment you stop coming to practice , oh he notices right away

i imagine it going the same way as noya — him just talking everyone’s ears off about kiyoko’s a goddess , that she deserves all the best things in the world . . . all while you’re right there next to him

it’s a stab in the heart , to put it lightly ; you can only take so much before it just downright hurts

you’ve tried to talk to tanaka about it — he’ll brush you off with a “ hey babe ! ” with a quick kiss to the forehead / cheek before running off to practice again

so naturally , you felt defeated , and could only defend yourself — your heart — by not going to practice anymore , as well as just avoiding him as a whole

oh boy , did tanaka feel like an absolute failure of a boyfriend

“ y/n was here at school today . . . why didn’t they show up for practice ? they’re usually here , helping set up the net before standing next to kiyoko ”

tsukishima will probably be the one to retort back to him — you are his senpai , and he noticed how dejected you were , the more ryuunosuke ignored you for the team manager

“ oh , y/n decided not to show up today . someone decided they were gonna be a better boyfriend , and not fawn and drool over someone else like a dweeb . ” tsukishima was a jerk , yes , but he hated that tanaka was just so blatantly ignorant to you ; you didn’t deserve that at all and he knew that

“ WHAT ? Y/N WOULD NEVER — ” his voice dropped as his eyes widened in realization , “ oh my god , i’ve been neglecting my own s.o. for kiyoko . . . ”

it was an awkward silence , the third years didn’t know if they should berate him or comfort him of his realization , the second years were feeling awkward AF ( especially yuu ) for not telling him sooner , and the rest of the first years weren’t exactly very well-versed in the romance department so they had absolutely no advice for the wing spiker

even ukai was confused that you weren’t there as he walked in “ where’s y/n ? they said they’d help me with — ”

a bunch of people giving him the “ NO NO NO NO NO ” signal as he finally lays eyes on ryu , keishin understanding that something must’ve happened

tanaka was not doing well that practice , too side tracked and too upset with himself to focus properly

it came to the point where daichi had to pull him aside , and give him a stern talking to

“ listen here , tanaka . i know you now understand how stupid you were in being so overly obsessive over kiyoko with y/n always standing right there , and simply , you are the one who needs to make things right with them . you should wait until tomorrow though , so you have time with them . they’re not the type of person to hate so easily , especially if it’s you . have this be a valuable lesson , and i hope you remember how important of a person y/n is , to us , and to you . ”

tanaka had a whole epiphany with daichi’s speech — damn right , you were his . so why did he need to simp over kiyoko , when he had an amazing s.o. already by his side ?

with the team’s permission , tanaka requested to miss practice the next day — he promised he’d make up for it the following day , he just wanted to spend more time with you and make up for what he did

it wasn’t easy for him , coming to grips with his own foolishness as he approached you after class

“ y/n . . . i want to take you somewhere after school , if that’s fine ? ”

though you were hesitant in responding , you didn’t have the nerve to look away , nor run . “ but ryu , don’t you have practice today ? ”

he smiled sheepishly and shrugged , “ i got permission from the others to skip it today , i just have to work even harder to make up for it . ” taking you by the hand , he pulled you closer to him “ besides , nothing is more important to me than treating my beloved s.o. to something special , especially after how poorly i treated you for the past few days ”

TANAKA IS GENTLEMAN MATERIAL OKAY , I STAND BY THIS ; A WHOLE CLOSETED GENTLEMAN BUT NO ONE WILL EVER GIVE THIS MAN A CHANCE none of y’all are ready for that conversation yet

but like woah , what happened to ryu ? going from kiyoko simp to this . . . it flustered you to the MAX

“ but in all seriousness y/n , i’m really sorry for how i acted . i shouldn’t have been paying so much attention to kiyoko like how i used to , now that i’m lucky enough to have you in my life . i want to try and make it up to you , starting with this badass cute date i’ve got planned for the two of us ! ”

you can’t help but smile as tanaka drags you out of the school , you’ve already forgiven him for just this precious moment alone

“ badass and cute aren’t words you’d use at the same time to describe something , ryu — ”

“ well , they are now ! ”

even kiyoko will be surprised at how he’s hardly even fazed by her at after today’s events ; ryuunosuke is a changed man , for you

you’ve got one of the biggest simps in haikyuu as your boyfriend , be prepared for how this mf is going to SPOIL . YOU .

[afoolnottoloveu]

moonlight ♡

Summary: Spencer wants to go to sleep, but Reader doesn’t wanna break tradition (WC: 1.6k) {Masterlist <3}

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (intended she/her but technically gender neutral)!Reader (could be read as platonic or romantic!!)

TW: none!

A/N: i was supposed to post this on the 29th.. we dont talk about it its okay its fine everythings all good, I ALMOST FORGOT thank you to gracie for beta reading this!! she’s the first one on the taglist at the end if you wanna check out her amazing work as well mwah, n e ways enjoy :0

Playlist Pairing: it’s not a singular song this time, listen to the inspo playlist here! 🌘

_

You rushed up the stairs, praying to some deity that you would catch him before he sent himself to bed or was too immersed in some book to answer the door. JJ had called you 7 hours ago, so it wasn’t surprising that you somehow didn’t notice the time passing, plus the fact you had to get gas for your little trip.

Rapping at the door insistently, you were delightfully startled when Spencer opened the door only a few moments later. He was still in his work slacks and button up but tie-less. A quick glance behind him and you could see he had been making himself tea, and the satchel by his feet couldn’t have been dropped more than 10 minutes ago.

“Peanut?”

You were too elated that you had caught him to respond, instead opting to attach yourself to his torso. “You’re back! Oh my gosh, I was so worried you wouldn’t make it back in time, but luckily JJ called me that you were getting back today, but that was over like 7 hours ago, and then I got worried I wouldn’t make it here before you went to bed--” you rambled, but Spencer quickly brought you back down to Earth by removing you from his torso.

“Y/N! What’re you doing here?”

“We’re going on a drive, duh!” you said, before grabbing his wrist and making it halfway out the door before being pulled back.

“Now? I just got home from two back-to-back cases, and it’s almost midnight.”

“Spence, we can’t break tradition now! Unless Mr. Eidetic Memory forgot what tomorrow is--” you interrupt yourself with a very exaggerated gasp, earning an eye roll from Spencer.

“Of course I know what tomorrow is but--” Knowing he would only go on and on to list reasons why he shouldn’t come with you, you used your last resort, the “puppy dog eyes.” All Spencer did was stare at you, both of you knowing fully well that he was capable of resisting, but he didn’t like to. After a whole minute of unnecessary intense staring at each other, Spencer let out a groan and turned around to walk away, which you thought meant that he was going to bed. Instead, you were pleasantly surprised when you heard him half-yell from across his apartment, “I’m just getting my keys!” You squealed excitedly, knowing what was ahead of you both that night.

~

Your car was small, a basic silver Toyota corolla you named Carrie. She smelled of gas and was decked out with teddy bear head pillows and keychains that you asked Spencer to buy, hanging from the rearview mirror, (but only from the cool states). You even kept a tan knitted blanket in Carrie, which Spencer was now wrapped in.

You couldn’t help but notice Spencer’s infatuation with the moon tonight, as he took a long sip from one of his two cups of hot cocoa you guys had picked up on the way.

“Is it a full moon?”

“No,” he said--not in a rude way, just quietly and quickly, like he didn’t want to take his focus away from the moon or it might disappear.

So, you let him be. He was most likely tired, and despite tomorrow, which most people would be restless for, he probably just wanted rest. You almost felt guilty, but your tradition was important to you, and you could only hope that it was important to him as well. 

“Did you know the full moon is one of the most powerful symbols in astrology? It can represent one’s emotional instincts, habits and private aspects of one’s personality. It’s said that while the sun sign of someone represents their head, their moon sign represents their heart. Though, most astrologists say the moon is heavily compulsion-based. Similarly, someone’s sun sign depicts their actions, but their moon sign depicts their reactions,” he told you, still gazing, almost longingly at the moon.

“I didn’t take you for an astrology type of guy, Doctor.”

“I have knowledge in many areas, Y/N, I thought you knew this by now.” You snickered at the understatement. “If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating,” he quoted.

“Plath--are you flirting with me, Doc?”

“Never, peanut.”

You rolled both your eyes and the windows of your car. Hopefully the blanket and cocoa was enough to warm him. All you wanted was to not blow out his eardrums as you turned up the music. Night Changes by One Direction was playing, and you reminisced on the fact that he originally had never heard of the band, causing your binge session, which consisted of watching their documentary and listening to all 5 of their albums straight. He told you he thought they were okay and he saw the appeal. What he didn’t tell you was that his favorite album was Midnight Memories, but if the way he was humming along to the song now was any evidence, you could’ve been a profiler.

You two listened to your playlist, made specially for the tradition, (Spencer insisted you always pick the music on these trips, since you weren’t very interested in classical piano) and besides the melodies, a comfortable silence encompassed the car for the most of the ride. As the road started to incline and your destination started getting near, you broke it.

“Can you believe-” you started, earning Spencer’s gaze from the sudden conversation, “Can you believe the audacity the calendar has, to change dates in the middle of the night, just like that, while we’re sleeping?” Spencer couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out from him. “Like tomorrow… You’re gonna wake up and, and you’re gonna be one year older.” When you said this, you couldn’t help but steal a look at him. He wasn’t making eye contact, just fidgeting with his fingers, but the small smile was there.

“Just like that,” you finished, as you pulled onto the edge of a hill. 

When you showed up at his apartment the night you got your driver’s license, you found this spot. This was your guys’ cliff. The one you guys found on accident, when your car ran out of gas on your first night of the tradition. The same one you guys have had a handful of picnics at and late night rambles about both of your favorite things. Covered in the blanket of light that the moon so graciously provided, it was perfect, and it was both of yours.

Parked atop the hill, you turned off the car and turned to Spencer, who went back to admiring the stars. You were just about to tell him that you would be right back, but you decided he was a little busy, and so you quickly shuffled to grab the box he wasn’t aware was hiding in the trunk.

He finally noticed your disappearance when you came back with a lavender gift box in your lap and an excited smile on your face. “Oh Y/N, you know you didn’t--”

“Save it, Spence. Just open your gift,” you demanded, shoving it into his arms and the smile on your face only lingering. He rarely received real gifts, only for Christmas. You were essentially his only non work friend, and he told everyone at work that he never wanted nor needed anything.

He repeatedly blinked, yet carefully removed the lid. He first saw the small brown envelope which contained a gift card for the local coffee shop near his apartment. Underneath that and the matching lavender tissue paper, he found a tie of no other color than purple and two pairs of socks, one of colorful stripes and the other of baby tardises. (You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but he appreciated the references.) The whole time smiles adorned both your faces. The last item was a copy of The Alchemist. It was one of the main books you two had bonded over, and only a few weeks ago, someone had spilled coffee on their copy. Spencer was against buying another one, saying he could literally recite it in his head word for word if he ever wanted to again, but you stubbornly insisted that it didn’t have the same sentiment, (and of course you were right).

He took the book out the box and held it by the spine as he flitted through the pages, taking note of the annotations, your annotations. When done, he closed it and only opened the cover, finding your heartfelt message. 

Dear old dear old Spence,

I know you’re probably gonna read this in .02 seconds, and probably right in front of me at that. Unless we broke tradition. But I trust that I convinced you. (It was the eyes, wasn’t it?) Regardless, I wanted to wish my very, very best friend a happy birthday. You alone are so strong for going through all that you’ve gone through, stuff that no one should have to even imagine. You are one of the strongest people I know. You need to know that I’m proud of you, Spencer. I’m beyond grateful for you, for having such a caring, resilient, and just incredible friend as you. I hope I don’t need to remind you that I will be here for you, through anything and everything. See you in 500 years :)

Love, with all my heart, Peanut

In only a handful of seconds, he shut the cover once again, and the happiness (and slight gleam) in his eyes became painstakingly evident. “This is your copy?” He asked, mostly rhetorically, because he knew it was. At this point, he was lightly sniffling between words. “Thank- thank you, peanut,” 

“It’s no problem Doc,” you smiled and lightly punched him on the shoulder, “happy birthday, Spencer. I’m glad we didn’t break tradition.” And by the look on his face, well- you were no profiler, but you could safely assume that he was just as glad.

-

Taglist: @bxbyspxncer @goldenxreid @prettyboy-reid @rottenearly @rainsong01

[morganas-pendragons]

No Body, No Crime | a.s.

As soon as I heard No Body, No Crime from Evermore, I had to write this with him. This is my first test of writing for Anakin - please be gentle. If you enjoy, let me know! I intend to make most of Evermore into a growing series for different SW characters! The first of them is below!

i may have played with the lyrics for a bit 

long story short, i survived - din 

*** 

He did it. 

He did it. 

Your eyes flicker out to the awning in which Padmé Amidala stands. The cool air of Coruscant is tinged with something out of place tonight, something that makes the hairs on your nape stand to attention, and your watchful gaze flickers out to the skyline where you can usually spot the Jedi Temple in all its majesty. 

The image of the skyline is tainted by the sound of screaming and the sight of fire encompassing the spires that usually stand so proud against the Coruscanti sky. 

From where she stands beside you, Padmé Amidala bursts into tears and wraps her arms around the growing swell of her stomach. Part of you wants to say you aren’t jealous, that you don’t wish that was you carrying the child of Anakin Skywalker, but the part of you which desires - Jedi don’t desire, they don’t have wants or needs, they simply ARE - buries that feeling deep down and dredges the rage back up to the surface. 

It’s so hard to believe that the same man who left you in charge of his pregnant wife, who was not so defenseless as he thought her to be, to return to the Temple - the same place you were both raised, the same place that saw the way you looked at him when he wasn’t paying attention - and inevitably be the reason it is now on fire. 

Or so you think. 

Padmé’s a friend of mine 

We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine 

Before the war, you were a Jedi Knight who had great influence with many of the Senators in the Senate. It had been how you’d met Padmé Amidala to begin with - at the tender age of fourteen when you had not been much older then she was - and had orchestrated the protection she’d received from Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. 

Known for your sharp tongue and even more clever mind. Maybe that’s why Anakin took an interest in you. 

Padmé’s been losing sleep 

Her husband’s acting different 

And it smells like infidelity 

Anakin Skywalker had not been much younger then you when you met. Still a Padawan himself, he only had the eyes for Amidala and often reminded his Master of that. You’d spent many a nights with Obi-Wan Kenobi on the terraces of the Temple in deep conversation about his struggles training such a head-strong Padawan. 

Then the war had come, and so had Anakin’s padawan. Starry eyed Ahsoka Tano who was barely thirteen years old and having a difficult time believing she was the apprentice to the Chosen One. 

You’d never called him that. It made him too prideful, too arrogant. It was unfortunate that he was so often the topic of your dreams when it was clearly obvious he was tightly wound around Padmé Amidala. 

To you, he was the same boy you’d met all those years ago before a woman and the war had changed him beyond repair. 

Still, you never spoke of it. Never spoke of the way you’d watch him train his padawan in the salles, never about the way he commanded an entire army with just his fierce devotion and loyalty to the clones, never about the way you felt when he made you laugh, never about how he made such a reputation for himself that the galaxy began calling him The Hero With No Fear. 

And here you were, having been one of the people who made him, just another Jedi General fighting on the front lines of a war that seemed to be going on forever. 

  “Master? Can I ask you something?” It had been Ahsoka to bring it up one day late on the fronts of Felucia, a mission that you’d been assigned to accompany Anakin and the 501st to with your own battalion of clones. You were among the best Jedi General with the lowest casualty rates besides Anakin and Obi-Wan and he’d advocated specifically for you to join him and the rest of the 501st. 

The real reason why you’d said yes was because he said he missed you. 

  “Absolutely, Ahsoka.” 

  “You know... The Jedi has taught me my entire life that we’re not supposed to have attachments. We’re not supposed to love. I’m not sure how to do that.” Ahsoka wrung her hands in her lap and lifted her eyes to where Anakin sat on the opposite side of the fire with Fives and Hardcase, mouth stuffed with ration bars and fingers pointed at you. He was probably telling some confounded story about the three missions the two of you had taken together. One of them had ended up with you nearly stuck with a Gundark and her mate, but that’s a story for another time. “How long have you?” 

You still marvel at the fact that she was that intuitive. 

  “Have I what?” 

  ‘’Been attached to Master Skywalker?” 

That question had struck you so hard that you hadn’t quite been able to answer her the way she’d wanted. When had you accepted the fact that you were just a leech on Anakin Skywalker’s back - someone who he’d never see because his gaze was always on Padmé - desperate for his affection that he was never going to return? What the point of running after someone who’d never chase you just as recklessly? 

  “I guess I always run to the people who aren’t willing to run back to me.” 

From that point onward, you’d vowed to bury your feelings for Anakin Skywalker as deep as they could possibly go. There was no point in entertaining a fantasy. That’s all it was. A fantasy. 

This moment, however, is anything but. 

When Anakin comes back to the apartment at 500 Republica, Padmé rushes out to meet him. You’re perched in the sitting room that is swathed with shadow as you keenly watch their short lived reunion. The Force is ringing with alarm. Like it’s trying to tell you something. 

  “Are you alright?” Padmé asks, concern laced in her tone as she grasps his arms like her life depends on it, gaze sweeping across his face as she scans him for any injury he may have obtained. “I heard there was an attack on the Jedi Temple, you can see the smoke from here!” 

I think he did it 

But I just can’t prove it 

I think he did it but I just can’t prove it 

You’ve never had a hard time being able to read Anakin. He was always so bright and receptive to both the Force and other Force sensitive people, always tuned into the feelings of people he cared about most - and victim to the destruction of his own heart that so often got him into trouble - and now as he stands mere feet in front of you, you find it akin to staring at a wall. 

It’s blank. All of him is blank. All those micro-details that had fabricated the very existence known as Anakin Skywalker is as bare as the skies above Coruscant, now filled with smoke and screams. 

No, no body no crime 

But I aint letting up until the day I die 

  “What’s happening?” 

  “The Jedi have tried to overthrow The Republic.” Your breath catches in your throat at what is so very obviously a lie, and your heart immediately reaches out for the presence of dear Obi-Wan Kenobi who happened to be off-world in the midst of the destruction. 

The Force had spared him. You.. however... you remain unaware on whether or not it’ll spare you from what inevitably comes next. 

I think he did it 

People who aren’t quite sure of who they’re supposed to be are so very easily manipulated. 

  “I can’t believe that-” Padmé argues, ever the intelligent, and shook her head at her husband’s accusation. 

  “I saw Master Windu try to assassinate the Chancellor myself,” Anakin replies. Blue eyes swept into the sitting room undoubtedly in search of your form to ensure someone he trusted was still looking out for his beloved. “Are they still here?” 

Padmé nods. Your devotion and loyalty to both the safety of her and her child reminded her so fondly of Sabé - her Queen’s Shadow from her time sitting on the throne on Naboo - and she desperately hoped that would not end with either of you in a grave. 

  “You trusted the right person with our secret, Anakin.” Padmé murmured. It was rather unfortunate that he happened to choose the same person who was trying to fight the way they felt about him. Padmé ached for you. She’d been in that very same position once. “But what are you going to do?” 

  “I will not betray The Republic. My loyalties lie with The Chancellor, with the Senate, and with you.” The lack of your name should alarm you. It doesn’t. Given what’s currently occurring at the Jedi Temple, which is where you should be, you are not surprised that he’s forgotten your presence. Forgotten you. 

Anakin’s eyes fall on the sitting room. Just as he tells Padmé of the next phase of his plan, the darkness he is growing so accustomed to feeling is lit with the sight of a glaring emerald lightsaber. 

  “What about them?” 

You emerge from the room to stand upon the landing platform. Padmé’s lips are poised to call out your name, to beg you not to hurt him, but the very fact remains: This thing standing in front of you is not The Hero With No Fear. He’s something else entirely. Something dark, something fake. 

And darkness goes against everything you have ever stood for. 

  “I don’t know who you think you are.” Your voice is laced with anger as you move forward, not a drop of fear in your aspect, all while keeping your blade trained at Anakin’s chest. Your mind is screaming at you - this is anakin, he’s been broken, stop stop stop stop stop you LOVE him! - but you’re too concerned about the darkness that curls around his bones and makes its home within him to listen to your heart. “But if the Jedi who are currently screaming right now are dead at your hands, I will come back and find you. I will be your end.” 

You press your hand against Padmé’s. Her eyes widen at the feel of a blaster against her palm, nearly the same as the one Saché had hidden within the throne during her first year as Queen. She hears your voice clear in your mind, be careful. 

Anakin has one last thing to say to you before you depart. “If you return to the Temple to save the Jedi,” He calls out, voice monotone and lacking any of the depth and warmth he so often reserved for you and Padmé and Ahsoka. “You will be marked a traitor, and I will find you.” 

Your fingers curl so tightly around your lightsaber that your knuckles turn white. Your stomach threatens to drop as reality finally catches up with you: This thing currently inhabiting the body of Anakin Skywalker is far from the same boy you’d harbored feelings for. Far from the man you’d wished he could’ve become. 

  “I’d like to see you try.” 

The last time Padmé Amidala-Skywalker sees you is the night of Operation Knightfall. She’s more then aware of the way you look at her husband, but your love for Anakin is not her concern. It’s how he could never love you back. 

The last time Anakin Skywalker sees you is before he loses himself to the Dark, gives into his thirst for power, and becomes Darth Vader. 

I think he did it. 

***

Padmé wasn’t there 

Tuesday night at her apartment 

At her job 

Or anywhere 

Somehow, someway, Sabé contacts you. She seems to be aware of your relationship with Padmé prior to the fall of The Republic and so presses you on the details she has been deprived of - seeing as how she’s been with Tanaka for months by that point - and how she had just... died. With no warning, no logical reason, the woman she had dedicated her life to serving was dead. 

Your memory still haunts you with the sights that you’d been greeted with upon landing on Mustafar. Her half-dead body carelessly tossed on the landing platform, head lolling on her shoulder, eyes fluttering as she fought consciousness. 

It had been you who had given her solace aboard her starship, and it had been you to hold her daughter. 

  “You were the closest to my Lady and Skywalker!” Sabé snaps over the holo, and you wince at the bite in her voice. It’s been weeks of sleepless nights and living nightmares. You’re not sure you aren’t hallucinating this entire conversation anyway. “You are truly telling me you are unaware of how she died?” 

She thinks I did but I just can’t prove it 

You have theories. Theories with no evidence to make them facts. 

No... no body no crime

  “I don’t know how she died, but she did.” Your hardened gaze lands on the former handmaiden. “And now it’s up to you to protect her legacy, Sabé.” 

   “Amidalans.” Sabé nods gravely at the moniker and hangs her head. “That is what we will call those who guard our Lady’s tomb. Amidalans.” 

  “She told me about you all the time. We are brave, your Highness.” You feign a warm smile as she meets your eyes. “There’s never been a better time to be brave for your Lady then now, Sabé.” 

That is the last the former Handmaiden of Amidala hears from you. She will go on to form the Amidalans, the guardians of Padmé Amidala’s tomb upon Naboo, and will even live to survive Darth Vader. 

***

The Force had spared you. Until today. Today you stand on the ground of a planet you never thought you’d find yourself apart of, today you stand in the ruins of a Sith Temple with two survivors of Order 66 and the youngest Force sensitive you have seen since the genocide of the Jedi. 

Today, your soul knows what is coming. The inevitable. 

I wasn’t letting up until the day he... 

The name you had given Kanan and Ezra was not your real one, even despite what Ahsoka had claimed about knowing you. She knew you well. After the brief argument that had occurred in light of that news, you’d taken her aside to disclose that you’d briefly joined the Empire and had been an Inquisitor under their ranks after you had been found. Among the best of them. 

You don’t tell her about how they broke you. About how he broke you with the way he towered over you, the way his fingers danced across your cheek and the way his lightsaber had burned itself into your arm. His kyber crystals had called out to you. Had weeped for reprieve. 

Neither of you found it. In front of you, The Sith Temple is alight with emerald and white light. 

No, no body no crime 

I wasn’t letting up until the day he... 

We are brave, Your Highness. 

No, no body no crime 

  “I always said I would be the one to end you.” You call out. Planted in place by Ahsoka, you disengage your saber in favor of both you and his former Padawan using your words to beckon to the person who laid within the suit. “I still fully intend to keep that promise. You’re not-” Tears prick your eyes as you turn your head away from Vader. “You are not the man I would’ve ripped the galaxy apart for.” 

  “Anakin Skywalker was weak. I destroyed him.” Vader tilts his head. He’s clearly proud of himself for something. “And I destroyed you as well. What a shame. You were among the Empire’s best.” 

I wasn’t letting up until the day he...

  “Yeah, you did destroy me.” Ezra watches in awe as both you and Ahsoka engage your sabers, a blinding flurry of green and white light, and take your defensive stances against the Sith Lord. “And now we will destroy you, in honor of him. In honor of Anakin.” 

You launch yourself right at the ghost of Anakin Skywalker. He is a mirage, a fake, a shell of darkness that once housed a being you could have sworn was made of pure starlight. Of love. 

So much for fantasies. 

died. 

[isolaradiale]

The dark hues of the evening blended to lighter, softer blues of dawn. With every minute, the creatures of the museum began to slow until they stopped altogether, all at once. Whatever they were doing, they dropped it, and began to move their way to the places they had been before the museum took a turn for the lethal.

The artwork climbed back into their frames, stepped onto their pedestals, and walked back into their display cases. A light rain outside washed all the street paint away, color emptying into the drains in the city. Landscapes let their prisoners out, shutting the windows to their world.

Those unlucky enough to earn a spot on the Wall of Shame reappeared in the lobby, their wounds appearing as colorful splashes of paint, and nothing more.

As the oranges and golds of the sun trickled in through the ornate windows of the museum, a blaring voice interrupted the stillness as the intercom museum sparked to life.

"Goooood moooorning, my lovely little visitors! The door to the museum will be opening shortly. Please make your way back to the lobby in an orderly fashion, and be sure to grab all your belongings!"

As Capella promised, the large wooden doors opened once again, releasing all the prisoners of the museum.

"Thanks for visiting the Tempus Museum! Janus, did you want to say any parting words?" "I'm mortified enough as it is, thank you." Came a muffled voice from behind, sounding much less enthused.

"Aww, somebody's cranky... Well, suit yourself!"

As if to add *Extra Enthusiasm*, as everyone exit the doors, they passed by Capella's invulnerable form as she personally waved everyone goodbye, stickers glittering in the morning sunrise. Janus was still sitting at the reception booth, head in his hands and rubbing his temples.

"Bye bye! Goodbye now! Goodbye! Buh-bye! Bye now!" was the chorus that trailed off as she spoke, bidding farewell to the museum's visitors...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Thank you, everyone, for participating in our recent event: Canvas! As a reminder, you will receive event participation IF:

You've written a starter, thread, mini, or interacted with someone else using the event setting for parts 1, 2, or both.

You've written a 500 word drabble using the setting of the event for parts 1, 2, or both.

You did not have to participate in both parts to receive event credit (so if you only wanted to participate in part 1, it still counts!)

Remember that for participating in the event, you can give yourself 100 stars to use in the marketplace!

A few things have changed as a result of this event, also:

The Tempus Museum has decided to make its home in the Archimedes ward, for now, not far from the Theater of Calliope. Its structure and function is largely the same, but the Optimized Tools won't be there. The artwork won't come to life and attack you, either... during the daytime, that is. You can check out its full description on Archimedes' page!

Janus still takes his place as the museum's curator, and does his best to accommodate guests of the museum. It's not uncommon to see him taking and teaching courses and workshops in the museum, either! He's still polite and eager to help with anything involving the museum and its activities, but if asked questions about the Stars or Spirale, he'll politely explain that he doesn't want to get anyone into trouble. As in the event, on the odd chance that someone is hostile and violent toward him, they'll instantly be killed, and will respawn back in their room.

Thanks again for participating in Canvas! We hope you had a great time!

Frequently Asked Questions:

"Do the things we made turn back to normal?"

Yup! If you didn't destroy it in Part 2 of the event, whatever you made will turn back to normal.

"Will our artwork try to kill us at night?"

Nope! If you took it with you, it's of no danger to you. If you kept it on display at the museum, it's also no danger to you (or anyone else for that matter.) Only the original stock monsters of the museum come to life at night. But unless your muse breaks into the museum, you have nothing to worry about.

The monsters still have their damage invulnerabilities, so unless your muse has a death wish, maybe don't break into the museum without some serious planning. Shady art theft rings will buy your stolen artwork for a hefty price, though, so whether it's worth the risk or not is up to you.

The more often your muse breaks into the museum, the more the monsters will recognize their patterns. Breaking into the museum more than two times is almost impossible, and should be reserved only for the most cunning of thieves.

"What if we made weapons or jewelry? Can we take those back home too?"

Sure! Just know that the weapons will go back to being fragile, and will shatter if used in combat. Any jewelry will look very convincing, but if you try to sell them to anyone, they'll identify it as a fake. Not that they won't buy what you have anyway, but it certainly won't be worth the price of actual precious stones and minerals.

"Can we go back to the museum?"

Yes! It's open to the public from sunrise to sundown, unless there's a nighttime gathering at the museum (which you're free to come up with on your own if you'd like to use it in a setting for a thread.) You could also theoretically break in or sneak in, or hide until the place closes, but you run the risk of running into the guard patrols... or worse.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ (Epilogue)

As the visitors left the building, Capella skipped over to the front desk. Caelum emerged from the darkened corner of the lobby to join her, with the rubber stopper on his cane making soft thumps on the elaborate stone tile.

"Well, that was fun! Thanks for letting us use your museum, Janus." "You're... welcome, I suppose." "Good good! I'll come back here when I make more pieces to show off to the lovely people of our Spirale."

Punctuating this, her hands went up to playfully pat his cheeks.

"Ooookay! Well, until next time! And as for you, Dr. Caelum, I'll see you at this afternoon's meeting or whatever, right?" "Aha, yes I'll be there."

Saluting the both of them, her form vanished into a series of pixels, leaving the other two at the desk. Now that she was gone, the AI turned to give a pointed look at his father.

"...Mmm. Still angry, eh?" Came a chuckle, but the other didn't look so amused.

"You know, at one point, I would have congratulated you for feeling slighted. And I would have celebrated you experiencing such a thing. But you've been around for so long that these things come naturally to you now, don't they? Feelings like being angry... Now I just feel bad when you're upset like any other human."

Another more cheery laugh, and he walked himself over to the doors, motioning the other to follow. With the crowd gone, he could finally step outside and stand on the steps.

"...I am sorry for causing you trouble." "I know." "Good, I'm glad that came across." "I'm still irritated, don't get me wrong." "Yes, yes. I don't doubt it." "And I'm not sure if anyone will come back after such a thing. I wouldn't blame them. I just wanted a place to contribute to this whole thing, and now it's all..."

Sighing, he sat on the first step, watching the rest of the street illuminate in the warm glow of the sunrise. He only realized the old man beside him was trying to sit down when he gave a little huff of effort, and immediately helped his father down beside him.

"Ahh. Much better, thank you." "I could have gotten you a chair..." "Haha, that's alright. If you can sit on the steps, so can I."

For a while, the two sat in silence, watching the streets of Archimedes begin to wake up. Cars stirring, cafes opening, people walking their dogs.

"...Are you doing alright over there?" Janus asked, not turning his head.

"About as well as I can, mmhm." "You still have your migraine medicines down there, right?" "Mmhm. Dr. Lyra has been taking good care of my health, don't worry." "She's the nice one, isn't she? That's a welcome change from the other facility..."

A hand went to the Ai's shoulder, patting it reassuringly.

"Instead of worrying about my health, you should direct that concern inward, Mortimer. You have a place where you can walk around, do all sorts of things humans do. Talk to people, make friends. Play games, read books, paint your lovely canvases. You're not confined to the life we lived three years ago."

Silence followed for a little until the young man leaned against the older one. He must be pushing 70 at this point, right?

"...Are you in a place where you can refer to me by my name? And not that Star code that they made?" "Well, no. Not really. But I don't think anyone's listening. So I don't care~" "Ha! Rebellion got you into this mess, didn't it?" The AI replied with a laugh, earning another from his father.

"Well. Messes that they were, I can still sit with you without you being stuck behind a screen. So even after all the hells we've been through, I'd call that a success. Wouldn't you?"

A smile cracked on his face. They have gone through a lot.

"A success... it's nice to finally call something a success again, father. It's very nice."

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, March 15

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Tiger Woods' car crash

Page 2: Bruce Springsteen has beaten the DUI charges leveled against him after federal prosecutors couldn't find a drop of evidence he had been drinking over the legal limit -- with an acceptable blood alcohol level of 0.02 well below the 0.08 threshold at the time of his arrest in Sandy Hook, New Jersey, prosecutors backed off two of their charges for drunken and reckless driving -- the rocker did plead guilty to a third charge, admitting he had two small shots of tequila on federal parkland and for that, he was fines $500 plus $40 in court costs

Page 3: Patrick Dempsey's dreamy return to Grey's Anatomy was a big hit with fans but his well-received cameo left series star Ellen Pompeo seething with jealousy -- Ellen may have permitted Patrick to revisit his old stomping grounds in Meredith Grey's fever dreams in season 17 but she doesn't want him coming back permanently and swiping her hard-earned glory and she considers herself the anchor of the show and thought she was rid of this guy after making the show her own, but now fans are begging for him to be brought back and Ellen is furious -- it's no secret Ellen hated the first 10 years of the show when Patrick was the star and she feels the series got better after he left and she became a big-shot producer, something she'd been demanding for years -- she likes being in control and calling the shots and clearly thinks she got this deal on her merit alone but it's also because she's the star who's lasted the longest; most of the original cast had already left and bosses had to cave in to keep her -- unfortunately being in charge hasn't amounted to better ratings and show has been slipping consistently in recent years and the main reason they brought Patrick back on was to spike the ratings, which it did and now producers are considering offering Patrick a full-time gig but Ellen will do everything in her power to prevent Patrick from stealing her thunder again

Page 4: Home reno gurus Chip and Joanna Gaines are clashing over his wild spending, and she's desperate to rein him in before they land in the poorhouse -- Chip and Jo are rich on paper and worth $20 million in property and assets but they were hit hard by the pandemic like everyone else and recovery has been sluggish to say the least -- they're just getting back on their feet and under a ton of pressure to get their Magnolia network off to a running start but Chip, as usual, is casual when it comes to money and it frustrates Jo to see him buying things they don't need, like new tools and equipment when the old ones work just fine and overpaying on lumber and masonry -- Chip is always shopping and not always for the house; he's got a boot fetish and has dozens of pairs, plus he treats the crew to free cappuccino and treats from their coffeehouse several time a day and Chip wants the best of everything for himself and everyone else

* Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds are ready to welcome baby number four through adoption -- the couple who are parents of daughters James and Inez and Betty hope to find their next child in South America and they've invested time and money sponsoring immigrant children and they're warming up to the idea of providing an orphaned baby or toddler with a forever home -- a 16-year-old girl they sponsored through the Young Center for Immigrant Children's Rights was deported back to Honduras and they were heartbroken, and Blake and Ryan are now determined to provide a child with a happy home and opportunities he or she wouldn't have in their native country

Page 5: Newlyweds Pamela Anderson and Dan Hayhurst are itching to start a family and are already trying for a baby of their own -- 53-year-old Pam tied the knot with the 40-year-old handyman on Christmas Eve at her Vancouver Island home and she's been telling pals they hope to have happy news soon -- Pam wants to build a whole new clan with Dan and he's on board even though they each have kids with their exes and Dan's two kids from a previous relationship are living with the couple at Pam's pad -- the couple love the idea of adopting or going the surrogate route and it's not something they want to waste any time over

Page 6: Weary Kelly Clarkson is juggling her skyrocketing career and brutal divorce battle with estranged husband Brandon Blackstock on less than six hours sleep a night and Kelly has also been pushing to sell her homes in Nashville and Encino, while running her L.A.-based talk show and recording new music -- she's been running herself ragged for months and she's feeling the burn in a big way but despite her exhaustion, she can't sleep and nothing she tries works and the most shut-eye she catches is two, three hours at a time; she lays awake in bed at night worrying and crying

* Suddenly remorseful Kanye West has spiraled into depression and despair since soon-to-be ex-wife Kim Kardashian filed for divorce -- for all their problems, Kanye realizes she was the one person who was there for him whenever he went off the deep end and now he knows he's alone and seriously doubts he can hold his life together -- without Kim and her family to keep his wild impulses in check, he may succumb to the poor judgment and wild mood swings that have marked his chronic bipolar disorder as they were the ones who reminded him to take his meds and steer clear of recreational drugs and now all he has is a circle of yes-men he doesn't listen to anyway -- since the split, Kanye has shuttled between his ranch in Cody, Wyoming and a hotel in L.A. near the sprawling mansion he once shared with Kim and he's been blowing up her phone to beg forgiveness, but she won't take his calls and it's driving him off the deep end again

Page 7: Kourtney Kardashian is fed up with Shanna Moakler's online barbs and is plotting her revenge against the ex-wife of her new squeeze -- since Kourtney and Blink-182 drummer Travis Barker went public with their romance last month, former pageant queen Shanna has been throwing social media shade and Kourtney's tired of taking Shanna's crap and she's going to fire back soon and Kourtney's using her wide network of contacts in Hollywood to bad-mouth Shanna and she's placing calls to casting directors and perspective suitors to put as many potholes in her love rival's path as possible and she plans to make Shanna regret messing with her

Page 8: Nearly two years after Johnny Depp was forced to exit Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean franchise following ex-wife Amber Heard's allegations of abuse, the company has kicked him while he's down by considering her for a plum part -- Johnny is fuming over news that Amber is reportedly in contention to play fairy-tale heroine Rapunzel in the studio's upcoming live-action remake of Tangled -- for Amber to be in the running for a Disney pic is the ultimate insult to him especially because he believes the company made millions of dollars off his name

Page 9: Prince Harry and his wife Meghan Markle had a whopping $500 million motive to betray Queen Elizabeth -- outraged at being cut loose by the British royals, the couple retaliated by secretly negotiating backroom Hollywood megadeals and going public on TV -- Harry and Meghan see themselves as victims of an out-of-touch monarchy and want revenge and selling out Harry's family is the way to get it and cash in big-time; Meghan's convinced they'll have deals totaling $500 million by the end of the year but they better act fast because Hollywood is a fickle town where even royalty can be chewed up and spat out

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Amelia Hamlin stuck to the shore while pink-haired beau Scott Disick made waves in Miami, Steve Martin nibbled on a pretzel while filming Only Murders in the Building in NYC, Floyd Mayweather turned 44 and celebrated with a birthday bash in Miami, Bachelorette reject Tyler Cameron showed off his toned tummy in Florida

Page 11: Drew Barrymore feels deeply for dad-controlled Britney Spears because she's been there: she said her mom locked her away in a loony bin for over a year when she was just 13 -- Drew said it's hard to grow up in front of people and she empathizes with Britney and Paris Hilton and any star who can't escape the glare of celebrity -- Drew's mom put her in a place that was a full psychiatric ward and says she used to laugh at those Malibu 30-day places because she was in a place for a year and a half called Van Nuys Psychiatric and you couldn't mess around there and if you did, you would either get thrown in the padded room or put in stretcher restraints and tied up

* Eddie Murphy famously bragged he has never changed a diaper in his life despite having so many kids and now he's set on having another baby with fiancee Paige Butcher and this will make baby No. 11 for Eddie -- he says his genes are incredible as ever, so why stop; he's super fit and Paige is in amazing shape at age 41 and wants at least one more baby so they're going to go for it and are already trying

Page 12: Straight Shuter gossip column -- CNN could blitz news veteran Wolf Blitzer as the network revamps its lineup and TV is a young person's game and no one knows that better than Wolf and after 31 years at CNN, he sees new faces getting promoted and knows his days are numbered and Jim Acosta and Poppy Harlow are the future of CNN, not Wolf -- although Wolf's airtime has been cut as Jake Tapper's role expands, he isn't bitter or angry but instead he's grateful for an amazing run

* Love It or List It star Hilary Farr is moving on to her own show and leaving partner David Visentin in the dust -- Hilary's new show is basically the same one she and David have been doing for years, with him edited out and David was blindsided by the news and he knows HGTV has sent out a casting notice for the new show and he's hurt and angry especially because Love It or List It hasn't been renewed yet

* Sacked Dancing with the Stars host Tom Bergeron has reached out to Chris Harrison after he stepped away from The Bachelor amid a racist scandal -- Tom wasn't fired over a scandal, but he knows exactly what Chris is going through because both of them thought they had a job for life, but nothing lasts forever -- Tom is a good guy and wants Chris to know he's around if Chris needs anything

* Tom Felton, who played Draco Malfoy in the Harry Potter films, spruced up for the camera (picture)

Page 13: Brooke Shields isn't letting a busted leg keep her down but she's taking her recovery one step at a time -- she shared an Instagram video showing her cautiously hobbling on crutches and explained she broker her femur and she was beginning to mend -- she didn't reveal what caused the unlucky break

* Outspoken actress Rose McGowan is living a charmed life in Mexico and the Harvey Weinstein accuser has headed south of the border and vows never to return to the United States -- she got her permanent residency card from Mexico and is grateful to have it and says it's a really healing land and it is truly magical -- she moved at the dawn of the COVID-19 pandemic because she knew it was going to get really bad in America and she had a moment to figure out where she wanted to be

* Picky perfectionist Blake Shelton listens to around 300 songs to choose what to record for each of his albums, according to his longtime producer -- music pro Scott Hendricks said he wades through nearly 3000 tracks by professional songwriters to select tunes for Blake to consider and then Blake methodically whittles down the nominees until he's certain which songs he wants to record but Scott admitted that process is more difficult for him culling the 300 from the 3000 -- Scott, who has worked with Blake for most of his career, said of their close professional relationship that the chemistry works and they have recorded several hundred or more songs together and they are getting ready to go do some more

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Killer kingpin Joaquin "El Chapo" Guzman's busted beauty queen bride will be marked for death behind bars -- if Emma Coronel Aispuro snitches to the feds about the bloodthirsty Mexican Sinaloa drug cartel long run by her caged husband, she'll put a big fat bulls-eye on her back -- according to a federal complaint, Coronel was intimately involved in her husband's multibillion-dollar drug-running racket and acted as his criminal agent while he was on the lam and the mother of El Chapo's two young daughters helped mastermind her spouse's daring 2015 tunnel escape from a Mexican prison and also paid him $100,000 for another failed bust-out a year later -- they are going to put the heat on her to spill more details on other top operatives in the cartel and take them down, too, but if she spills, it will be open season on her on the inside

Page 16: Dr. Dre appears to rap about estranged wife Nicole Young in a song filled with angry, explicit lyrics calling someone in his life a greedy bitch -- DJ Silk previewed part of a new track from Dre full of digs presumably at Nicole, with whom he has been locked in a nasty divorce -- his lyrics include: Trying to kill me with them lies and that perjury/ I see you trying to f--k me while I'm in surgery / In ICU death bed on some money s--t / Greedy bitch take a pic / Girl you know how money get

* Hollywood Hookups -- Lorenzo Lamas is set to wed for the sixth time to model Kenna Scott, Justin Hartley and Chrishell Stause are officially divorced, Adam Rippon is engaged to Jussi-Pekka Kajaala

Page 17: Former Home Improvement kid Zachery Ty Bryan has pleaded guilty to two felony counts of domestic violence -- Zachery, now 39, has been sentenced to three years of probation and will also have to take part in a batterer intervention program

* John Mayer has dated a succession of famous singers including Katy Perry, Taylor Swift and Halsey and he hopes they write chart-topping songs about him and admitted he'd be jazzed if his exes enshrined him in song, saying sometimes a song is so good he hopes it's about him and he even scours their lyrics for clues -- Taylor already has several tracks that have been linked to John including Dear John

* Ruthless chef Gordon Ramsay said he's cooked up his own plan to keep his kids humble -- he has five kids with wife Tana: Megan, twins Holly and Jack, Tilly and Oscar but said he plans to leave most of his reported $200 million fortune to charity -- Gordon explained his kids must tidy up after dinners, can only fly coach and are expected to learn how to cook for themselves and he's forbidden them from taking costly taxis and the foulmouthed foodie insisted they don't swear

Page 18: American Life

Page 19: Roseanne Barr was blindsided by a humiliating new scandal after risque photos from the early '90s recently emerged which appear to show her teenage daughters licking her boobs -- Roseanne posed for the shots with her two youngest girls at a Glamour Shots studio in Iowa more than 25 years ago and the photographer who claimed he snapped the fake lesbian lovefest but did not want to be named dished Roseanne and daughters Jessica and Jennifer who are now in their mid-40s happily hammed it up for the camera but decades later Roseanne and her daughters are all mortified and embarrassed by these pics; they were horsing around years ago and never thought they'd see the light of day

Page 20: Cover Story -- Still recovering from agonizing back surgery, Tiger Woods was pushing himself to the limit when he flew off a California cliff into a career-crushing car accident -- lawmen said the golf legend was lucky to be alive after the horrific wreck that shattered his right leg -- the accident only added to Tiger's physical problems; his movement has been restricted since a fifth back operation in December and he was unable to play golf despite an appearance at a local tournament the weekend before the bloody wreck -- at a press conference days before cheating death, Tiger admitted he was worried about his physical condition and his ability to play again, saying a lot of it is based on his surgeons and doctors and therapist and making sure he does it correctly and he doesn't have a lot of wiggle room left -- Tiger could barely move, and it seemed to get him down and his back rehab has been brutal and he was hobbling around and distraught but he refused to give into his condition and his tough-as-nails mindset could have contributed to the crash: when a person is overwhelmed by physical pain, that dominates everything they do and if you're behind the wheel of a car and in physical pain, it can distract you and likely lead to this kind of disaster -- Tiger was eager to get to a TV taping on the morning disaster struck and he seemed impatient when he left the Terranea Resort in Rancho Palos Verdes, an L.A. suburb, just after 7 a.m. and although traffic cameras show he was driving within the speed limit, his Genesis GV80 SUV crossed the center median onto the opposite side of the road and flipped -- authorities said Tiger appeared lucid to first responders and there were no signs the recovering addict was under the influence of alcohol or drugs and they did not request a blood test when Tiger was rushed to the hospital from the crash site and the incident was an accident -- Tiger was taken to nearby Harbor-UCLA Medical Center, where doctors said his broken bones protruded through his right leg and they put a rod in his leg and used screws and pins to stabilize the break and his ankle -- it will take three to four months to heal and then eight months of physical therapy and it is unlikely he will ever run again and he may have a limp and in terms of golf, just walking for extended periods of time will be a big deal and recovery will be agonizing; it's a very real possibility that Tiger's taken his final swing

Page 21: Addiction experts warned Tiger Woods' recovery will test his sobriety after his stint in rehab for prescription painkiller use and it is very, very common for a patient in recovery to relapse after a trauma like the one suffered by Tiger and exposure to painkillers administered directly or prescribed after a physical trauma is highly likely to trigger a relapse -- Tiger will probably need painkillers to get through this, but he'll also need to be connected with like-minded people to keep him away from his old thinking that pills are the solution to his problems

Page 22: Desperate Ghislaine Maxwell has offered to renounce her British and French citizenships in a new bid to get out of jail -- the disgraced socialite's last two stabs at freedom including one package offering $22.5 million as bond money were rejected by a judge who deemed her a flight risk -- now according to her lawyers, Ghislaine will formally commence the procedure to renounce her foreign citizenship to satisfy any concerns the court may have that she may try to seek a safe haven in France or the U.K. -- Justice Department officials were concerned Ghislaine would flee to France, where she was born, since the country has no extradition treaty with the U.S.

* Woody Allen claimed his own words are being used to attack him in the bombshell Allen v. Farrow documentary -- Woody has repeatedly denied adopted daughter Dylan Farrow's claims he sexually abused her when she was seven at her mom Mia Farrow's home -- Woody blasted the documentary which rehashes the claims as a shoddy hit piece and a hatched job riddled with falsehoods adding the filmmakers stole from his autobiography

Page 26: Twice-divorced Ricki Lake's engagement to California attorney Ross Burningham has insiders fearing she may suffer yet another heartbreak -- she announced her happy news on Instagram but Ricki has seen far more than her share of bad luck in the romance department and everyone is praying this final shot at love doesn't end in despair and it's never Ricki's fault, but she's never found a man who could keep her happy

Page 28: A lurid landscape of drug-fueled orgies, suicidal thoughts and fake sexual enthusiasm will play out in a new television series based on model and reality star Holly Madison's X-rated confessions from her shocking 2015 biography Down the Bunny Hole -- Madison first exposed the sleazy details of how she and other young women were plied with drugs and coerced to participate in sex parties with Playboy founder Hugh Hefner in exchange for acting as his girlfriends and getting to live inside the iconic L.A. mansion along with a weekly $1000 stipend -- the limited series will star actress Samara Weaving as Holly, who was a member of Hef's harem between 2001 and 2008 -- Holly, Kendra Wilkinson and Bridget Marquardt became the notorious stars of the reality show The Girls Next Door which debuted in 2005 and focused on their seemingly glamorous life with Hef but glossed over the dark secrets behind the scenes -- in her bombshell confessions, Holly revealed the 22-bedroom manor was actually a foul pigsty filled with stained mattresses where Hef's live-in ladies were forced to perform weird bedroom rituals and look excited by it

Page 29: Jack Osbourne has listed his sprawling California home for rent at $16,500 a month -- the 35-year-old son of Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne is offering the five-bedroom, 5600-square-foot home in Studio City unfurnished -- Sharon was recently seen outside the home with moving vans helping Jack prep the property -- Jack, who suffers from multiple sclerosis, bought the home in 2014 when he was married to Lisa Stelly; the couple divorced in 2018 and share three children: Andy, Pearl and Minnie

* Heidi Klum has snipped all threads tying her to dad Gunther Klum after the cosmetics and modeling honcho skipped her wedding -- Heidi dumped her manager dad after he snubbed her August 2019 ceremony in Capri with guitarist Tom Kaulitz of the band Tokio Hotel and she has also ended her German enterprise Heidi Klum GmbH, originally overseen by Gunther -- Heidi and her dad had a falling out over Tom and Gunther never really approved of him and was dead set against the marriage and it drove a wedge in their relationship

Page 32: Health Watch

* Ask the Vet -- an African Gray Parrot with a feather-picking problem

Page 34: Barack Obama broke a buddy's nose over a racist remark -- he revealed the two classmates were playing basketball when his friend hurled a racial slur and he popped him in the face and broke his nose, Obama told Bruce Springsteen on their podcast Renegades: Born in the USA -- Obama said he doesn't think his pal even knew what the word meant, just that it was meant to be hurtful

* Country singer Keith Urban has shrunk to 140 pounds as the former addict is hooked on a bizarre diet of nuts and berries and even worse, the five-foot-ten crooner appears to be growing thinner and friends are worried the stress of his demanding career and his desperate desire to be a good husband to Nicole Kidman may push him over the edge -- no one sees him eating much more than handfuls of raw almonds or sunflower seeds and berries washed down with gallons of water -- though he's been sober since 2006, pals fear the struggle to avoid giving in to temptation as well as hearing Nicole purportedly mended fences with ex-hubby Tom Cruise may be weighing on the star -- despite his bony appearance, Keith thinks he looks great

Page 40: Evil ISIS terrorists are using the COVID-19 pandemic as cover while they rebuild their network and mastermind new attacks and both Iraq and the U.S. are in their crosshairs -- because the West has been focused on dealing with the pandemic, ISIS and new groups sprung from their shattered forces have been reloading and plotting revenge, according to Ryan Mauro of the terrorist-monitoring Clarion Intelligence Network -- the pandemic has brought decreased confidence in Western governments, which has emboldened the terrorists to launch sleeper cell attacks on foreign soil

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Anya Taylor-Joy

[ducktracy]

185. porky’s hero agency (1937)

release date: december 4th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky, emperor jones), tedd pierce (gorgon, assistant), sara berner (porky’s mom)

the final porky cartoon for 1937, and what a busy year it’s been for him! hard to believe he had an entirely different voice, look, and demeanor just 8 months prior. even then, his character still had much to explore, as we see here—in this cartoon, he’s cast as a child again. curiously, bob clampett is often credited as the one who refined his personality into the one we know today (he did give him his iconic suit and tie), but, like everything else, it was more of a collaborative exploration by all of the directors.

the title card is one of the more interesting title cards in the warner bros. repertoire—it’s a photo of a porky statuette! bob clampett would make several statues during his time at WB and distribute them to his top animators. while the statue in the credits is painted over, you can view an unpainted model here!

here, porky dreams of the wonders of ancient greece, prancing around as the mythological messenger parkykarkus. however, a gorgon has her sights set on turning him into stone, and it requires some quick thinking from porky to weasel his way out of this mess.

bobe cannon animates the expositional sequence, with porky propped up in bed, sucked into a giant book full of greek myths. his mother (offscreen) tells him it’s time to go to sleep, but porky objects, protesting that he was just at the exciting part. cannon’s animation is easy to spot with his trademark buck teeth, yet the gestures he gives porky--finger points, turning the page, etc.--give him a nice dose of youthful energy as he recaps the story, telling tales of gorgons and “great great great” greek heroes.

nevertheless, a disembodied hand turns out the light, dismissing porky’s protests. he heaves a resigned sigh, lamenting how he wishes he could be a great greek hero. 

the cartoon doesn’t make any attempts to keep the dream sequence a surprise--instead, the face of the book’s cover takes up the entire screen, the pillars emblazoned on the front melting to life as we fade into ancient greece. and, as to be expected, our favorite porcine hero proudly stands in front of the building, proudly advertising “HERO FOR HIRE AGENCY -- PORKYKARKUS PROP.”

porkykarkus is a play on parkykarkus (”park your carcass”), a character on eddie cantor’s radio show “the chase & sanborn hour”. truck into porky’s services as he narrates over the specials:

“has anybody any eh-deh-deah-deah-dragons you want seh-seh-sleh-slay-slaye--rubbed out? or maybe ya have some, uh, fair meh-mai-meh-maide--honeys ya want rescued! it’s a peh-pleasure. is your daughter safe? phone eh-peh-porkykarkus at olympia 2222!”

porky’s narration, as always, is fun to listen to, and the physical advertisement has its own charm and appeal, with discounts and deals on certain rescues. not only that, but it’s a damn smart way to save money, having just the narration over the still frame. smart thinking!

conveniently, porky gets a phone call, sparking the tried and true “gear up for a big sprint but merely tinker on over to your destination” gag. as porky answers the phone, filling us in by repeating the hidden dialogue from the other line, we find out it’s the emperor--he wants one hero to go.

chuck jones’ layouts stick out quite strongly throughout this cartoon, especially in the human designs. porky’s statue of mercury is no exception--the bulbous nose and rounded body construction are all surefire trademarks of his work. porky grabs the messenger’s hat and winged shoes from the statue, never once taking a beat to stop as he hobbles along, dressing as he prepares to head out. woodblock sounds simulate the sound of his hooves clopping, but also add an extra jaunty jive to the merry score of “have you got any castles?” in the background, the cartoon’s motif. it would also be a merry melody courtesy of frank tashlin not even a year later.

with that, porky takes off, soaring in the skies like a pro with his winged shoes. if the scene wasn’t appealing enough with the overhead layouts, the animation of porky steadying himself is wonderfully smooth and fun--the cherry on top. he circles the palace where the emperor is located, swooping down to his destination. complete with airplane sound effects, of course.

“howdy, empy!” another bulbous-nosed jones character silences porky from behind his armchair. emperor jones (boy, who could that name reference, i wonder?) speaks in a ridiculously hilarious dialect, completed with a thick accent: “shh! i’m making a fireside chat with my sheeps!” his voice then slips into a rooseveltian draw as he coos “my friends, grecians and customers, this is emperor jones speaking...”

pan to the audience, which consists of a sea of smiling statues. this entire speech sequence is wonderful--not only is his terrible grammar terribly amusing, (”statistics show... what last season at this time was population in greece from 6,000 with 500 with 54 people, with 17 statues.”) but little touches such as one of the audience statues roasting marshmallows and later a hotdog over the fireplace, the emperor making his audience clap by pulling on ropes tied to their arms, and so forth make the entire charade highly amusing with lots of details to look out for. porky standing idly in the background, awkwardly fidgeting as he tries not to intrude is a great little piece of character animation as well.

the emperor gives the skinny, all while chowing down on a hotdog: a gorgon has been turning more and more people into statues, and they need a hero to steal her life-restoring needle in order to turn all of the statues back into humans again. the hero he has in mind is, of course, porky, who bashfully accepts the offer. when the emperor asks those in favor to raise their right hand, he pulls on a lever that causes all of the statues to raise their hands in unison, including a hand on a nearby clock. with a handshake, empy concludes “it’s a deal!”

one of the most impressive pieces of animation in the cartoon (i actually dedicated an entire drawing to it!) is when the emperor sends porky on his way, who waves goodbye as he flies through the air with his winged shoes. just as he tips his hat, he knocks into a pillar, which sends him tumbling upside down, but still airborne. the wings on his shoes form hands as they shake their fists in the glory of the good landing, with porky flashing a cheeky grin to the audience before spiraling lower in the air, regaining his balance, and barreling onward towards a smoldering volcano. the animation is full of life and character--though porky is consistently jolly in the B&W clampett cartoons, the grin towards the camera as he prides himself in his save is a great little touch of personality. slowly but surely, bits of character are now becoming more defined.

a gag that took me just now to recognize it--porky swoops into the heart of the volcano, where we spot the source of the black fumes pouring out the top: the gorgon statue factory. a merry score of “you’ve got something there” serves as some easy listening as we’re treated to a sign gag:

outside of the factory is a human picket fence, comprised of familiar faces: statues of bobe cannon,��norm mccabe, john carey, bob clampett himself and chuck jones surround the area. directly outside of the factory is the frozen statue of a salesman with his foot in the door--the joke is not only amusing, but the pose is quite strong and readable, too. though nowhere near the dynamism of frank tashlin’s poses in the mid ‘40s, clampett’s poses in this cartoon are quite defined and exaggerated for the time period. this is especially sharp in the scenes with the emperor.

porky knocks on the door held ajar by the ceramic statue’s foot, holding out an envelope. “telegram for the guh-geh-gee-geh-gee-gor-geh--” a hand snags the envelope out of porky’s grip, causing him to mutter “aww, nuh-neh-nee-nuh-neh-neh-nut--shucks,” a phrase he echoed in clampett’s previous entry, rover’s rival.

we transition to the inside of the factory, where we see the gorgon herself, positioned in front of a camera, awaiting to take “pictures” of her models. tedd pierce voices the gorgon, whose vocal stylings are a parody of tizzie lish, bill comstock’s character on al pearce and his gang. interestingly, the cartoon before this, the woods are full of cuckoos, featured a caricature of lish as well, also voiced by pierce. 

clampett and pierce’s comedic timing is sharp--not nearly as sharp as tashlin’s timing in the woods are full of cuckoos, but abundantly amusing nonetheless. the gorgon asks for a boy--”a sorta young-ish one”--and in comes a decrepit old man who can hardly hold himself up. the gorgon waits for the man to assume his position on the podium where his picture will be taken, singing a pitchy rendition of “am i in love?“, another homage to the characteristics displayed by lish’s character on the radio.

the gorgon snaps her photo, which turns the shaky old man into a stone statue at once, cheekily labeled “ANTIQUE --  $60,000 (P.S.: 000,000)” before he’s yanked off of the podium with a cane. 

“now let’s try a group picture.” you know it’s a ‘30s cartoon if the three stooges come waddling in--they made their caricatured, cartoon debut in the 1934 film the miller’s daughter, notorious for being chuck jones’ first animation credit. as expected, they all beat the tar out of each other while on the podium, rendered immobile only through the power of medusa’s camera. they turn into the three wise monkeys, labeled “3 MONKEYS OF JAPAN -- MADE IN GREECE”. 

norm mccabe’s animation is easy to spot in the next scene with porky, characterized by his signature double eyebrows. porky knocks on a door, parroting a favorite catchphrase from the al pearce show that frequented many a clampett cartoon: “i hope she’s eh-eh-at home, i hope, i hope, i hope, i hope, i hope...”

porky shakes the hand of the assistant, unfortunately a blackface caricature (save for the voice, who is just tedd pierce speaking in a deep, suave voice) as he greets “welcome, stranger. won’t you come in?” before porky has time to answer, he’s yanked through the iron bars of the door and placed neatly in line for the photoshoot, where he peeks through the door to see the action inside.

a pile of men form a pyramid, where the camera turns them into a literal statue of a pyramid, with some slight imperfections. “aw, shucks!” laments the gorgon. “you moved!” she approaches them with her life restoring needle, allowing the men to form into the proper position, maintaining good balance. she gets her “genuine egyptian statue”, quipping “ought to make a handy paperweight!”

the assistant informs porky that he’s next. porky backs up anxiously, echoing a short-lived catchphrase of his from the joe dougherty era: “nuh-neh-no! eh-nn-nee-no! a-a thousand times no!” the decision to make his thoughts visible (his head is slapped onto that of a piggy bank’s) is playful, and also reflects just how big of an influence comics had on bob clampett’s work: comic artists such as milt gross and george lichty have been cited by clampett as inspirations. the george lichty influence is definitely noticeable in rod scribner’s animation under bob clampett, as we’ll discover in the coming years.

in the midst of his panic, porky backs into a statue of "dick a. powello” (dick powell and apollo), causing it to break. but, rather than fuss over the mess, porky uses the opportunity to hatch an idea instead.

in comes strolling porky, concealed by powello’s upper body and a blankett hiding his hooves. the triumphant score of “he was her man” and the gorgon’s smitten woos makes the scene hilarious as is, but the blanket falling off and revealing porky’s pudgy little hooves is the icing on the comedic cake.

porky perches himself on a conveniently placed couch, where the gorgon approaches him. “pardon me, is this seat taken?” she doesn’t wait a wink before snuggling right up to him, a heart symbolizing her affections popping in the air. though clampett would play with typography at times and maintain an overarchingly jovial mood to his cartoons, it’s an odd thing to see him play with comic-like visuals in this manner, such as porky physically envisioning himself as a piggy bank or the heart from the gorgon. i wish he had done it more in this nature!

with the gorgon too close for comfort, porky uses this as an opportunity to grab the gorgon’s life-restoring needle, dangling from her neck and lying against her body. it wouldn’t be a clampett cartoon without sexual innuendos--porky reaches aimlessly around for the needle, prompting the gorgon to let out a shriek, cooing “why, mr. a POWELLo!” 

she smothers the ceramic head in kisses, giving him a nice lipstick finish to boot as she pretends the statue has given her a ring. her ecstasy is hilarious and WONDERFULLY conveyed through strong, rubbery poses worth freeze-framing. picturing porky’s befuddlement is another humor within itself. 

finally, porky’s disguise is revealed when the gorgon literally crushes the statue in an embrace, stone crumbling around him as he desperately slips out of her grip. as the gorgon makes threats to call the cops, reciting the WB favorite catchphrase of “calling all cars! calling all cars!”, porky makes with the needle and jabs it in various statues, warning them “uh-geh-uh-get goin’! i-i-eh-it’s the guh-geh-geh-eh-geh-gorgon!”

as the gorgon chases porky with her camera, he continues to revive a barrage of statues: the antique, the famed discus thrower (who throws himself out of the scene rather than the discus), the man from the end of the trail statue, who exits riding his horse like a merry go round (a nod to friz freleng’s sweet sioux), a woman who marches off with popeye’s forearms--note the bobe cannon statue in the back here--and a mermaid who unzips her fin and makes a run for it. the highlight of the entire montage is when porky approaches two temples (the two of them together labeled “shirley temple”) and injects the needle into them, prompting the temples to use their pillars as legs and run for the hills.

the chase reaches its climax as the gorgon pursues porky with a movie camera, turning the crank ferociously as she runs. her plan works--porky slows down, freezing in mid-air as the gorgon cries “hold it!” thus, the gorgon pins porky to the ground, who tries his hardest to fight back, but ultimately flailing around as she commands him to open his eyes.  

we melt into the present, where we find porky’s mother in place of the gorgon, telling him softly to wake up. he does so, after she pries one of his eyes opens. relieved that it was all a dream, he embraces his mother, prompting a happy end and an iris out.

this cartoon has a soft spot in my heart--it was one of the first LT cartoons i saw on this whole venture. i thought i was the smartest person alive, understanding the three stooges, popeye, and shirley temple references. who knew just how much i had (and still have!) to learn! though even without my sentimental biases, this still stands as a very good cartoon.

as i mentioned previously, the poses in this are full of elasticity and energy, especially in the emperor and the gorgon. porky does a very nice job as well--little pieces of animation such as him fidgeting awkwardly while the emperor rambles on, swinging from side to side as he’s offered the job to be a hero, etc. etc. are full of charm and character. while his personality isn’t the most electric in comparison to characters like bugs and daffy, it’s the little things like these that really make porky stand out. with him, a little subtlety goes a long way, and that’s why he’s one of my favorites. he’s so reserved in comparison to such a wild cast of characters that his timidness actually shines through and sets him apart! (though, on the other hand, he can still have quite the personality, as we’ll discover!)

personally, the only gripes i have with this cartoon is the blackface caricatured assistant (which, in comparison to some cartoons we’ve seen and still have yet to see, is relatively mild, but uncomfortable nonetheless). the jokes, while corny at times, still hit, the animation is full of life and vigor, and the short as a whole has a lot of charm, whimsy, and personality. it has my seal of approval! go check it out!

link!

[werezmastarbucks]

coming back was a mistake

the reader bonds with kai over their shared dislike of mystic falls

kai parker x fem!reader

word count: 2494

warnings: language, the POV’s are changing

music: poa alpina by biosphere

This damn hole hasn’t changed a bit. The same old story: clean, tongue-licked glowing welcome sign. There we go. Then there will be this turn on the left... oh no, wait, bless, the road has been destroyed. The wooden white bridge connects this part of the highway with the town, and here we go. First houses, Livingstones used to live here, and their son was bullied by literally everyone at school, because he always had stupid haircuts. Word is, he’s dead. Welcome to Mystic Falls, the town where normal people can last up to one year.

Your house was still standing on the 19th November Street, cuddled by dry rose bushes. Apalling. All the other houses on the street have it together. The window sills are freshly painted and the porch is clean, the flowers are watered and cut, and then there’s this fucking outrage of a dwelling where the remains of your family reside.

You had to keep your act together but this town just infuriated you. You couldn’t understand why people would stay here when they could leave right after they’ve turned of age. What kept them? The charming crab-shaped park where everybody stored their dead bodies? The library on the main square where the entitled old lady has been residing for the last 500 years and telling you off for breathing? The blood-red clock tower dinging and donging every damn twenty minutes. No, wait, it must be the staggering fifteen streets. It must be the magic of running into your parents on the Market Street at ten am when you’re supposed to be at school. It’s the neighbors watch, the bored, jaded people’s desire to know everything about everybody. It must be all the supernatural jerks swarming here, killing everybody left and right, acting like their collective age is twenty years old. The fashion in this city has not changed since two thousand and thirteen, either. Nothing did.

The blood-red clock tower was still announcing the midnight hour through the dense hot air, the cars were still disgustingly clean like the citizens had nothing else to do except wash their cars all day long; Damon Salvatore still had the bitch expression on his face, fuming over the next this-just-in ghoul drama, pacing slowly in the living room of his ridiculous, always half-lit mansion with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Stefan was still miserable. Elena’s hair was still golden-black, smooth like a mirror, and you were still mortally tired of all this.

You could feel your negativity fill you up to your throat and eating on you as you drove up to the house and looked at it. The light was on, but nobody came out to meet you.

You were still coming once a year.

You sighed and turned off the engine, then left the car. It’s just a week. Then you can come back home and start pretending you don’t have Mystic Falls past again. The thought of going back home, running back like a rabbit, was what got you through every year.

You walked up the porch. The door wasn’t locked.

He liked this space here. The tenth row, seventeenth seat. He was like a cat, choosing the perfect spot. From here, he could see the clearing between the trees on the other side of the field, where a lady was walking her adorable huskie every evening at eight sharp. The dog was damn smart and the lady wasn’t. Kai had no idea how smart she actually was, she just didn’t look smart. The field below was empty now that it was summer and the eerie hollow feeling gave him a lot of kicks. The place that’s supposed to be full of people, literally made for big gatherings, the seats and all, empty, gave a special vibe. Looking around it, especially at the evening hour, when August was doing its best in the skies, was strangely nice. Nobody saw this side of Kai Parker when he was just sitting quietly, an expression of satisfaction on his face, on his chosen spot, and observed this quiet empty place like a little black king.

He saw somebody and went invisible in a second out of some instinct he couldn’t explain. It’s been some time since his presence caused an outcry of anguish among the party of people... a lot of time, actually. Nowadays, people would just roll their eyes. Don’t care. They’re the losers, living in this boring swamp, fidgeting with their pathetic drama every day. Kai didn’t know how they managed to tolerate themselves. And the hair! Everybody had this inexplicably perfect hair, glistening like they all wore wigs.

Oh my god.

What if they all wear wigs?!

Kai started giggling, thinking about that.

He was now looking at this girl in a crop top that matched the color of her skin. The girls do that, they wear the tops that match their skin which Kai finds very suggestive. Okay, you have all my attention.

Cruising around this unbearable place, he has familiarized with all the faces, and this one was new right away. She started running. You know how people usually jog, without a hurry, with the dumb light-hearted expressions on their faces, and the 90% of them always imagine they’re in some expensive automobile commercial. It helps them jof. This one ran. She did two tours around the field and stopped. Wrong, you’re supposed to walk or else your heart will burst. She stood, her hands on her thighs, her face up, and watched the sky. Kai had no idea why he was hiding from her, but he felt too comfortable now to manifest himself. She was listening to her music in her earphones and looking at the slowly drifting long clouds, and she looked like she was either pissed or very thirsty. Leaning a bit backwards, she just gave him the honors. The ribs were heaving, her stomach breathing for her. Her hand came up to her throat. Kai tried to picture her at the Mystic Grill, or on the main square; whether she looked similar to anybody he’s seen here; he looked at her hands and arms, the way she moved her jaw as if those pretty lilac clouds have done something to her and she was about to get even. She shook her head animalistically, getting rid of some thought. Girl, I know that. You’re trying to shake them all off through your ears, it doesn’t work. He felt for this pretty, collected lady who ran around the track like she was chasing somebody for a murder. Kai liked that kind of interaction the most; when he pretended they had connected. That they had a conversation. When nobody could argue with his illusion they had something in common.

He liked how she had her hair, a bit messy but feminine; the way she looked around dispassionately like she’s had enough of whatever shit she had going on. Like she seemed as if she was a separate entity. Her elbow pointed aside, with some kind of expectation.

Then she gave up. She put on a hoodie she’d thrown onto a first row seat and started walking up slowly. One, two three... four rows... Kai watched her curiously. He never doubted his magic. That’s right, not ever. You know.

But when she passed row nine he tilted his head. She came up to his row and started walking. Now, if she sits right on him, she will feel it. He will, too, and of course he won’t mind, but the girls usually freak out if they try to take a seat somewhere and there’s an invisible dude. Not that Kai had practiced it a lot. He just knew they didn’t like being stalked on. He didn’t really care. He doesn’t know her. If she’s a part of this town, screw her. She’s pretty up close, though, such a nice, frowning face, big eyes. She took the next seat to him and they almost rubbed shoulders. If she took off her earphones she would hear Kai breathe next to her. Instead, he was listening to slow ambient. It went well with the evening sky.

Together, they watched the huskie and the lady run around in the field behind the footbal field. Then she shivered a little in her hoodie. Kai wished he could read her mind when she started crying. When people don’t know they’re being watched, they cry in a very specific fashion. Kai was sure it wasn’t the huskie that upset her; it had something to do with her standing and watching the sky, rubbing her elbows with nervous fingers.

Or maybe she was unhappy with her running time, who gives a fuck.

You were watching this dude. The Grill did not appreciate him the way they should’ve. First of all, he was different breed. People come and go, but the type is always the same. This one was not the type. You had no idea who he was, but he was damn entertaining. Unapologetic singer. Stretching the notes like nobody was watching. Singing for the soul. He enjoyed himself the harder the more confused people looked, throwing awkward glances in his direction. His self esteem was on point as he expressed the ultimate artistic freedom through his bad singing, skipping the words masterfully and changing the melody on a whim. When the song was finally over, nobody clapped, and you felt that truly, he was the underrated artist, the local gem. Where Mystic Falls citizens cared for how others perceive them, he didn’t give a shit about it; while they side eyed their friends judging him silently, he was glowing with self-satisfaction. He was a bad singer, and a bad dancer; he chose an old song nobody knew, and did the finger guns at the DJ as he left the stage. A collective sigh of relief shuddered over the bar; you leaned over the counter, and the bartender nodded at you.

“Pass a cider to that guy. Tell him he saved my evening”.

Jerry was the name of the bartender. He was the new guy, because almost all bar people at the Grill were always human, which meant they died all the time. They all looked exactly the same though, and Jerry was no different from Evan, from seven years ago. Short dark hair, dimples, could star in American Pie. He smirked and nodded again.

The guy has just landed at the counter with a swing. He sighed happily as Jerry put the glass in front of him. You weren’t watching, because you didn’t feel like it; you made the sincere gesture of friendliness, no need to take it further. However, you should’ve known what would happen next. No good deed ever goes unpunished in this world.

You spotted him with the corner of your eye as he approached you, with the cider you ordered for him, and sat next to you.

“Well, that’s not too bad at all...” he started.

You turned to the guy - who looked rather like a boy who got stuck in his post-teenage phase - sharply.

“Please, don’t take it personal. It was not intended that way. It’s just a drink, so, drink it”.

For a second, he just watched you, as if challenging you for more talking. Then he shrugged.

“Somebody’s feeling antisociable today”.

And sipped a little from the glass.

“I usually take cocktails, the sweeter the better, just so you know”.

You sighed. A part of you knew you would regret it. But you still did it. Why? You looked in front of you, meeting your own miserable face in the reflection of the mirror wall behind the bar. The guy kept talking.

“I mean, it’s so nice to start acquiring the fan base, I guess, you can get a lot of things as a rock star. I’ve always wanted to be one”.

“You won’t be a rock star for your singing voice”, you noted.

Drinking alone at the Grill sometimes made you do weird stuff. But it was a tradition.

“Huh? You didn’t like it?”

“I enjoyed how much it confused everybody else”.

The guy expressed an ‘oof’ emotion.

“I’m sensing some xenophobia here. You hate this place, too?”

You didn’t answer. The guy sighed mockingly, as if he was pretending. He sounded like a hyperactive child, and in spite of your very self, you found him relatable.

“I say to myself every day”, he went on, in a slightly more serious voice, “Kai, today you’re leaving Mystic Falls. I’m not in the place where I can tolerate this boredom any more, you know? But this thing... keeps me here. I can’t wait to...”

You blinked and looked at him.

“Kai? Your name is Kai?”

“Uh, yeah”.

He clincked his glass on yours.

“Cheers”.

“What’s it short for?”

He didn’t look too proud saying,

“Malachai”.

You dropped your jaw.

“That is the coolest name I’ve ever heard. Malachai? Seriously?”

He lit up a little bit, straightening his back with praise.

“Yeah”.

“Dude, this is badass. Show me your ID!”

His dark eyes were laughing. You finally took a proper look of him. There was something foreign about him although he spoke very clear American English. It was a different kind of foreign: alien. Given it’s Mystic Falls, stagnating in its own revolving old routine, alien was good even if it was dangerous.

“You wanna see my ID?” he chuckled. He looked down on you with an adoring glint in his eye as though he was admiring something he saw. His reactions were inexplicable.

“Yeah, I wanna see how it’s spelt. Come on, Malachai, it’s so boring here. Show me”.

He sniffed through his nose.

“Okay”.

He had to stand up a little bit to take his ID from the back pocket of his jeans. You looked at it, visualizing his unusual name. Malachai Parker sounded fucking elite. He’s come a long way from Oregon, too. You wondered what he was doing here and was about to ask, but your glance got hooked on the year of birth.

“1972? You were born in...”

Frustration filled you slowly like lake water. Of course, the only interesting, good-looking character who’s fun enough, will be one of the messy freaks, here. You passed the card back to him.

“Are you one of them?”

Malachai didn’t look confused or insecure which further advanced your disappointment.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a grin, playing with you.

“I’m not having this tonight”.

You downed your glass, feeling earthly tired. Like the earth. The Earth, that’s billion of years old, like that.

You stood up to walk away.

“I’m not one of the vampires”, Kai chanted, turning on his seat.

You shrugged.

“Even worse”.

He watched you as you went, his eyes not leaving your back until you were out of the door. Then he realized he still didn’t have your name.

[terry-perry]

A Life Worth Sharing (Ian x Vampire!Reader)

A special request for my good friend @ladyfluff​

Hope you enjoy!​

Set in the Adam’s Family AU

She groaned as she felt herself being shaken awake. Her annoyance soon melted away, however, once her vision became less fuzzy and she caught sight of her boyfriend crouched down beside her and wearing that shy grin she loved so much. 

“Sorry to wake you,” Ian mumbled. “But didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Peering over at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was almost five in the morning. She groaned again; she didn’t like it when he left super late (or super early, to some). His sleep schedule was already off-balanced enough with his job and her brother having him as his personal errand boy.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” She pleaded.

“I wish I could, but my flight leaves very soon. And I have some music people I have to meet with tomorrow night.”

“Okay, but you’ll be back in two weeks right?”

“Definitely,” Ian grinned before leaning forward to give her a good, long kiss goodbye.

This had been their routine for almost two years now. It was a struggle at first with the constant back and forth and then the added revelation of what she and her family were, but they were able to adjust for the most part. They cared for one another too much to let what they had go so easily. 

Even when they had only been on a handful of dates, it was almost unreal how intense their feelings were. Y/N knew this was definitely something she had never felt before. Like many others of her kind, she had her share of casual lovers throughout the centuries she lived -- only giving her heart to one or two souls. 

She made peace long ago with the idea that there might not have been a special someone for her. She had convinced herself that the love she shared with her family was enough to sustain her. She did her best to be happy for her brothers as she’d watch them interact with their loves they had found; laughing at the way Peter would banter with Rowan, be fascinated at how Adam and Eve were able to communicate with one another without words.

She was happy for them, yes. But envious as well. 

None of the others she’d been with made her feel what she did with Ian. Since the night they met, she would think back to the stories she heard long ago about their kind and their version of soulmates. They weren’t known to play around with their feelings. They may give in to carnal urges from time to time, but there’s very few they were willing to place their trust in. 

 And with Y/N and Ian’s relationship being a special case, she was willing to make it work no matter what way they chose to go about it all.

''Listen darling, all you've got to do right? You just take these, put them in some water right? Unless you want to dry them, dried flowers are amazing. You can use them for potpourri and stuff.''

Ian nodded as he continued to listen to what Peter had to say. What luck for him to be in Detroit on business. He was just who he wanted to speak to about what he planned on doing the next time he saw Y/N. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. 

Peter wasn’t exactly his first choice. He could’ve tried talking to one of his human friends that were in serious relationships of their own, his mother or even Eve if he especially wanted an unfiltered, unbiased opinion on the matter. But she was still doing what she did in Tangier. Regardless, Ian knew that if had to choose between Y/N’s two brothers, Peter would be the one to do his best to not judge as he gave his two cents. 

At least then the risk of him being maimed would drop a good amount.

“She’ll really like these,” Peter continued, offering the small bundle of flowers. “They’re just like the ones we had outside our home, growing up. She used to love frolicking in the field and pick as many flowers as she could.”

Just then, Ian thought of his girlfriend. A mini version of her running around so carefree with her sweet smile intact. They had touched upon the subject of children in the past, and while it may have been a giant sacrifice to make when it came to dedicating his life to her, he knew it was worth it. He never even played with the idea of having children of his own until falling in love with Y/N.

“Can I ask you something?” 

As expected, Peter offered him a friendly smile to let him know he was all ears with what he had to say. A nice change from the scary expressions Adam had to offer when it came to stuff like this.

“Yes?”

“How did you know Rowan was the one you wanted to be with?”

He got a bit worried when Peter’s expression went on to be a little more puzzled, as though unsure where this was going. Thankfully, he decided to answer without another second to think about it.

“I guess it was the way we were able to stand together through hard times. As you know, we met each other during a time where a love like ours wasn’t exactly celebrated. Quite the opposite. We had to earn the bliss we have now. That’s how it is with love, I suppose.”

Ian nodded, letting his words sit with him. Love was definitely work. Twice the hard work when it came to unique situations like this one. But it was all about being with someone that makes you want to do it. Someone that doesn’t make it feel like work. 

And Ian did his best when it came to Y/N. The long distance, the different sleeping patterns and, of course, the morbid fact that he would eventually grow old and die. But he did all he could to make it work and be there for her. If he was meant to wither away, he would happily do so if it meant he gave his time to her. 

“I know what you’re up to,”

Ian wasn’t able to escape Adam like he intended to. As harsh as it sounded -- especially since he was someone he genuinely looked up to -- Ian didn’t want to get the third degree from him. Had he contemplated getting his blessing? Sure. But his fear took over, knowing his thoughts on the relationship already. 

So to now hear that Adam knew what he was planning on doing behind his back got him scared shitless. 

“What do you mean?” Ian sputtered, deciding to play dumb.

The vampire could only narrow his eyes in response. He wasn’t in the mood for games. Then again, when was he? Ian grew more fearful as Adam stared him down. He had no choice but to sigh and give in.

“How did you know?”

“Speaking as someone that’s been hiding their true nature for 500 years, I know a bad liar when I see one,”

Ian could get that. Especially, now that he thought about it some more, he wasn’t the best with hiding his intentions the last several weeks. Adam must have spotted the catalogs he saved that had a great selection he could choose. If that didn’t get him to question anything, the way Ian showed interest in Adam’s marriage was definitely a big hint. 

The two of them had a mostly business-like relationship with not a lot of personal information being transferred between themselves. That hardly changed when Ian started seeing Y/N; the two men not wanting this to change the arrangement they had, despite Adam being strongly against their coupling. So when he began to ask about the ways Adam made his marriage work, that was a definite red flag. Why would he be curious about his life and become suddenly bold enough to ask questions if he didn’t have some ulterior motive to his actions.

“Doesn’t help that you kept eyeballing my wedding photos,”

Ian cursed to himself. He was so stupid to think he could get away with how he kept checking out the old pictures Adam had of him and Eve. In his defense, they had been among the many photos Adam had of his heroes. Of those he knew once. He supposed it was because those particular ones were kept close and meant for his eyes only. 

Those moments where Ian would sneak a peek, wondering about the ways he could have something similar with Y/N, he could understand how anyone could’ve caught on to what he was up to.

“Adam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you need to know that I love her. She’s it for me. I’ve known that since I first saw her, and that feeling hasn’t changed. I hope you understand.”

“I do,” 

Well that was certainly something that caught him off guard. Adam wasn’t exactly someone that green lit what Ian had with Y/N. So to hear that he seemed to be okay with this next step...

“I may not be 100% okay with what you have with my sister, but I know how much you care about her. However, I can’t let you propose with just any ring.”

Ian wondered what he could mean by that until Adam pulled out something from the pocket of his robe. Revealing what he could describe as the shiniest and most beautiful diamond ring he has ever seen.

“This once belonged to one of the Bronte sisters, I can’t remember which. Either way, they were a couple of the few people Y/N admired and miss dearly. She’ll really appreciate it if you give this to her instead.”

Ian couldn’t help but smile. He may have not known who exactly were the people Adam was talking about, but he knew this was his way of getting his blessing in a way. It may not have been said out loud, but he knew Adam was aware of the feelings he had for Y/N. He wasn’t messing around when it came to her. 

“Thanks Adam,”

The day had finally arrived. Well, the night. Whatever. 

Ian didn’t have a complete plan, more of a hope that she’d say yes. It might have been why he decided to do it after witnessing her staring out the large window she possessed in her apartment when he welcomed himself in. This was it then, especially when Y/N turned to welcome him with a smile before going back to her other view.

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this sight,” she reflected, her eyes never leaving the lights the city of New York had to offer for the late night.  She was sitting down on the chaise lounge that was near the window. He stared at her for a brief moment before closing the door and making his way over to her

“I was thinking the same thing,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off her as he stepped forward.

 He wasn’t much for big gestures but she deserved it, this was the right time. He was sure.

“Y/N...”

She had no choice but to put her attention back to him. She wasn’t all too sure what was going on, but she had a feeling he had plenty to say as he took her hands in his. Needing her to feel the anxiousness he was feeling as he did his best to word all he wanted to tell her that moment.

“You’ve made me feel things that I didn’t know existed outside of movies and the songs we listen to. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to live without you. It doesn’t matter to me if we spend forever or just the rest of my life together. All I care about is that we spend our time protecting each other, taking care of each other and making the most of what we have together. Because you’re it for me baby. You’re the love of my life.”

Y/N reached up to cup his cheek with a warm smile and glassy eyes.

“And you’re mine,” she sighed. 

Ian closed his eyes and succumbed to her touch, turning his head a bit so that he could kiss the palm of her hand. He laced it up with his and brought it down with him as he got down on one knee. He took a deep breath and looked up at her with his own vision starting to blur somewhat with tears. But he could still see the way she placed her free hand over her mouth in an attempt to repress all the emotions that wanted to come out at once.

“Y/N,” he began with an unsteady voice. “Will you marry me?”

With all the enthusiasm she had, she nodded her head. 

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Once he was back on his feet, she jumped into his arms and held on tight. He hugged her back with a similar amount of desperate strength and added in a fierce kiss that gained a bit of saltiness from their tears. With some reluctance, he broke apart from her when he remembered something.

“Fuck. I forgot the ring.” He said, fishing for the small, velvet box in his pocket. He took it out and opened it up to present the ring to her before placing it on her finger.

She marveled at the sparkling beauty of the diamond, tracing the delicate band and cut.

They shared another loving embrace after, as if holding onto one another would keep them safe and sheltered for as long as they lived. 

[matthewtkachuk]

#40 from the love prompts with Pope thanks I love you you deserve 500,000 more

ahhhh i love you so much 🥺

side note: do the kids even burn mixtapes anymore? let me and @anxietyandtacos know if u do, i listened to jack’s mannequin heavily while writing this!

40. “I made this for you.”

pairing: pope heyward x reader

warnings: its a lil sad, pope leaving for college

word count: 725

To say you were sad would be an understatement. After a perfect last summer together, Pope was heading off to college on the other side of the country, and you were stuck in the OBX finishing up your last year of high school. Though the summer had been full of boat days and keggers and as many quiet moments as the two of you could carve out with each other, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his upcoming departure hanging over your heads the whole time. And now that departure was right on your doorstep. 

You were lying beside Pope on his bed, limbs haphazardly intertwined and your head resting on his chest. It was his last night in the OBX, tomorrow he would be heading to the west coast in his car and leaving you behind. You were trying not to think about it, attempting to focus on the steady beating of his heart and the way his hand felt, rubbing soothing circles on your back. As if sensing the inner turmoil going on in your brain, his hand left your back to tilt your chin up, causing you to look into his eyes. “You okay?” he asked quietly. All you could do was shrug, tears carefully gathering in your eyes, dangerously close to falling.

“Don’t want you to go,” you admitted into his chest, quietly.

“Can I be honest with you?” he whispered back and you nodded, “I don’t want to go either.” 

Tightening your hold on him, a part of you wanted to ask him to stay. But you knew that wasn’t fair of you, knew he was meant to get out of the OBX and make something of himself and you would never keep him from that. Besides it was just eight months, and then you would be off to college too, hopefully somewhere a little closer to him. And he had promised to come home for Christmas and spring break, so it’s not like you wouldn’t see him at all. You had just never been apart for more than a couple weeks, and you were hoping your relationship would last long-distance.

Trying to push your sad feelings down and enjoy one last night with Pope, you tilted your head up and kissed him, getting lost in him.

Far too early the next morning you stood by quietly as the pogues surrounded Pope. John B was enthusiastically hugging Pope, Kie was encouraging him, and JJ was giving him some truly terrible advice about putting the ‘party scene’ ahead of his academics. You couldn’t find it in your heart to put on a brave face, trying not to cry was taking up most of your energy. 

Throwing your arms around him, you held him tightly to you, burying your head in his chest and breathing in his smell. You focused on the way his arms felt around you, trying to memorize the feeling. Reluctantly you pulled away, pressing your lips to his multiple times as you did so. “Will you call me on the drive?” you asked him. His returning grin told you he would. 

“I love you,” he told you, kissing you again. Your lip wobbled as you repeated the phrase back to him. “I better get going,” the regret was written all over his face, but it was a long drive ahead of him. As he got into his car, you remembered the item in your backpack.

“Wait!” You called, running to the driver door. Pope looked at you confusedly as he rolled down the window. You pressed your lips to his again, wanting to feel his lips against yours another time. “I made this for you,” you shyly told him, pulling a burnt mix tape out of your bag with the words “Y/N LOVES POPE” written in big block letters in sharpie. 

“What is it?” He asked, rather dumbly in your opinion for some hot shot headed off to college.

You giggled nervously, “It’s a mixtape genius. It has our song and every song that makes me think of you and us burnt on it. You better appreciate it, I had to use the library computers to burn it and Mrs. Jenkins got really mad at me for it.” He laughed, knowing you were terrified of the mean, old librarian. “You can listen to it when you miss me.” 

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