#m edgar cuffe

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE DETERMINED get what she deserves?” She is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.“

— she walks through the world as ;

name → emma squiggle  pronouns → she/her identification → trans-woman year of birth → september 1955 - september 1956 face claim → zion moreno blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → up to applicant occupation → investigative journalist for the daily prophet future information → n/a

— she is best described as ;

The CLARITY & SUBSTANCE of a CRYSTAL INKWELL & the SOFTNESS & SENSUALITY of a LEATHER DESK CHAIR. She is as REFINED as a full bodied RED and as plush as a long FEATHERED EVENING GOWN. 

— her story starts with ;

Some people in life are simply better than others and Emma Squiggle has made that her mantra. Born in New York to the former British Wizarding Ambassador and her menswear fashion designer husband, Emma was raised in the knowledge that the world rewards those who were willing to try and thrive. Of course, Emma knew she would be thriving. Although the Squiggle family would not grace the tapestries of The Sacred Twenty-Eight, Emma never lost a wink of sleep over it. Everyone who was anyone knew old money was out and the best way to make a splash was good family connections, a healthy traceable bloodline and a winning smile. Her very busy parents put as much effort as they could muster into Emma, treating her as a best friend or an associate rather than a child. Whilst most children were trying to grapple with The Tales of Beedle The Bard, Emma was encouraged to sit at the table alongside her parents and discuss what a day of tutoring had taught her, listening intently afterwards as her parents discussed their days. The family moved back to London not long before Emma had received her multiple offers for schooling. Hogwarts was an easy choice for her. Her family had all attended and any school that was regarded as the best in the world would be the only one she would consider. 

The hat barely brushed her head before she was announced a Ravenclaw and Emma seated herself on the long mahogany table waiting for people to begin assessing one another so she could wow them with her brilliance. The qualities that Emma loved most about herself was her creativity, strong sense of self and considered herself a good leader- the issue with being sorted into Ravenclaw was that her entire house felt the same way and it was very difficult to get a word in edgeways. Her year group housed some very strong personalities, including Quidditch legends, ELEZAR SMITH [adversary/former romantic liaison], MICHAEL THOMAS [adversary/former romantic liaison] and CRISTIANO PARKINSON [acquaintance], self-established queen bee GENEVIEVE AVERY [rival] and political princess ISOLDE CROUCH [rival]. With everyone in her year intent on a wand measuring competition, Emma forged her own group of likeminded people it wouldn’t hurt her brain to try and associate with. It surprised her how much she adored the company of ADRIAN CAVERLY [former best friend/colleague] and RITA SKEETER [adversary/former best friend/colleague]. In a flock of pigeons they were the true flamingos and nothing made her happier than when they were together. 

The three bonded over their love of pop culture, good reads, newspapers and magazines. Each day the three would sit in the common room, passing round issues of muggle and wizarding publications they’d managed to get their hands on, underlining passages for the other to read. It had been Emma’s bright idea that they go into the press business together, though it’s something Rita debates. The school was lacking a newspaper and between them they had the skills to set one up and ensure it succeeded. Emma quickly declared herself the hard news journalist amongst them, happy to give up the position of editor in order to focus on the issues that mattered. Her passion lied in investigation and nothing made Emma’s heart beat faster than a good story. The mystery of The Shrieking Shack was one that made her famous, though her theory that there was a werewolf roaming their grounds was laughed off by most of the staff and the students, except for XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD [friend], though she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She earned herself a reputation for trouble, sticking her nose in places it didn’t belong and despite having a better wardrobe and more money than most of her classmates she struggled popularity wise. 

To her surprise, Michael Thomas didn’t seem to think that ambition was a bad thing. To the whole world they seemed like a couple, but the problem with Michael was that he was allergic to commitment and no matter how much Emma thought she could change him, the likelihood is no witch ever would. He was the first man to break her heart and began a bit of an unhealthy relationship for Emma when it came to love. Emma knew that she was always the better option. The smartest woman in the room, but boys her age were simply stupid. She went looking for love in all the wrong places, the fun single girl with the good job and the cute flat, with the failed love life. Unlike her best friend Rita, Emma didn’t have to pull any strings to get her job at The Daily Prophet, though it did help that her mother was good friends with the Cuffe family. She worked as the intern for ELIAS SPENCER-MOON [former boss], spending her time getting his coffee. Understandably for such a main character, Emma got bored pretty quickly and began taking it upon herself to listen in on Elias’ conversations and do some detective work of her own. 

It was only after she undercut him for a scoop and brought it straight to BARNABUS CUFFE [boss] she was awarded a position as an investigative journalist. Though Emma worked hard at her job, it just never seemed to be good enough- not in her eyes of course, but in the eyes of the establishment she worked for. While she was doing noble work trying to uncover injustice, Rita would write about Florence and her boyfriend having another argument and was gifted her own column by the time she was twenty-five. Emma was irritated about the whole thing, but then again she had always felt that way about her. Rita wasn’t a team player, she didn’t want to share the spotlight, always concerned with herself and enjoyed putting down others. Silently she plotted to take her down a peg, Emma knew there was only one real MVP at The Daily Prophet and until she had some breathing room no one would see it. At Rita’s launch party, Emma flirted shamelessly with Rita’s boyfriend AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD [partner]. It didn’t take long for him to follow her out the door in front of Rita’s face and as she settled into bed with him that evening she did so with a smile. 

Emma didn’t expect to fall in love with him. She also didn’t expect for him to fall in love with her, yet here they both were five years later. With Rita out of her life, Emma is truly thriving. She has better friends like, EDGAR CUFFE [best friend] and AURELIA ROOKWOOD [close friend].  An investigative journalist, she has been on the front line trying to figure out who is responsible for the murders taking place in the city, by any means necessary. Like anyone with more than half a brain-cell, Emma believes The Ministry are some how involved, looking to point the finger at a werewolf to contain the issue. With whispers of a dark wizard on the rise bouncing around the street Emma is curious to see if any of these claims have traction and unmask such a figure. The topic of such an investigation has spelt trouble in paradise in one area of her life, as Augustus has often seemed a little too invested in her latest case. Emma believes she might be self-sabotaging, clear on who she has been sharing a bed with for half a decade, but with his behaviour becoming increasingly strange she can’t help but wonder, is she sleeping with the enemy?

— she is a LEVEL 5 WITCH & readied for war ;

[moonwatchuniverse]

Apollo 14 on the Moon … February 5, 1971, lunar EVA image showing Apollo 14 commander Alan Shepard, standing near the MET = Modularized Equipment Transporter, and LMP Edgar Mitchell, in the background working at a sub-package of the ALSEP  = Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package. Note the cuff checklist on Shepard’s wrist and his NASA-issued Omega Speedmaster 145.012 chronograph on his left forearm. The red bands on the arms & legs of the A7LB spacesuit, distinguished the commander from the Lunar Module Pilot. These red stripes were introduced after Apollo 12, as post-flight Moonwalkers Bean & Conrad had difficulties identifying themselves on lunar surface photographs. Apollo 14 CMP Stuart Roosa and LMP Edgar Mitchell took their personal Rolex GMT-master 1675 pilot watch onboard their Moonflight. Apollo 14 Moonwalkers, Shepard and Mitchell conducted two lunar EVAs, the first 600 m westwards from LM and a second 2900 m roundtrip eastwards from the Lunar Module Antares. They stayed 33 hours on the lunar surface and collected 42 kilograms Moon rocks & samples. (Photo: NASA)

[lemonjoonah]

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K  Rating: M  Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU  Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage. 

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe  and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14. 

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent  the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure. 

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes. 

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-” 

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response. 

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.” 

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.    

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down. 

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs. 

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.    

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’ 

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips. 

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door. 

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all,  please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter.  Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?”  You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father. 

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers.  “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it. 

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water. 

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station. 

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material. 

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.” 

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice. 

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”  

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-” 

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern. 

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?” 

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.” 

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included. 

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you. 

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him. 

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.” 

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism. 

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.” 

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.” 

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.” 

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted  private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.” 

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now. 

“There’s nothing else.” 

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence. 

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation. 

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.” 

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him. 

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin. 

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage. 

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.” 

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.” 

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.  

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too. 

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s  existence then what right does he have to disagree? 

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” 

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid. 

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?” 

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.” 

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.” 

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl. 

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?”  Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.  

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?” 

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment. 

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release.  “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but  a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away. 

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?” 

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern. 

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice. 

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?” 

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly. 

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns. 

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”  

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.” 

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement  from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

  ...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you. 

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it. 

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.” 

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being. 

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step. 

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.  

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath. 

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap. 

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed. 

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor.  As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence. 

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself. 

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”  

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet  indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles. 

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side. 

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you. 

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed. 

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?” 

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before. 

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?” 

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned. 

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. ���Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.” 

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing. 

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands. 

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste. 

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air. 

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway. 

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.  

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure.  Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?” 

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day. 

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin. 

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.  

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?” 

“My secretary...” You give in with a  whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers. 

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits. 

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation.  Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin. 

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion.  He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually. 

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so. 

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung. 

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing  your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis. 

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze  you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left. 

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?” 

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off. 

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”  

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.  

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent. 

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside. 

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor. 

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.” 

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

  It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”  

“Why... why are you doing this?” 

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.” 

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.” 

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...” 

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop. 

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

[scarofthewind]

Is it alright if I ask for the Slashers of your choice and their s/o meeting (and basically adopting) a feral child after they protect their s/o from a victim who tried to harm them?

A/N: I am going to do two instead of my many boys because each one is going to be a bit long. Hope you enjoy! BTW THESE ARE VERY LONG!!! Trigger warning (mentions of abuse and pedophilia).

                                    ________________________

Brahms Heelshire: “What are you doing?” A soft voice asked from behind you as you tugged your rainboots on. 

“I’m going to the shed. I need to get the shovel so we can plant those flowers out front tomorrow.” Brahms started at you blankly. “What?” You asked.

“Shout if you need anything.” He replied, kissing your forehead. 

You smiled, “Not like you don’t watch me from the windows anyway.” Brahms mumbled under his breath and you pulled the hood to your jacket over your head and walked outside. The cold air greeted you harshly as rain caressed your face. You ducked your head and made your way over the to shed which was a few yards away. 

Trying not to slip in a mud puddle, you neared the brown building and paused in your tracks when you saw that the door was open. You waited to hear something and moved forward when a crash erupted from inside. 

“Hello?” You shouted over the sound of the pouring rain and watched as a face appeared in the door way; crouching near the ground. You stopped and felt your heart nearly stop with fear. Big eyes stared at you as a head full of wild hair tilted to the side, sizing you up. You saw the dainty hands wrap around the side of the door and you let out a breath. The faded blue shirt it wore was nearly torn off and you could see bruises and scratches on the dirtied skin. 

Something in your mind clicked and you put your hands out, slowly moving forward. “Are you lost?” The child made a hissing sound and crouched back to the ground and scooted back inside the shed. 

“Wait-” You put your hands to your ears as the sound of a gun going off near you made you flinch. The ringing in your ears was painful and loud as your eyes watered from the pressure. A man you’d never seen before was yelling and pointing his gun at you. 

“Where’s the kid!? I know you’ve seen him!” The man walked over to you from the side of the shed and forced you to the ground. His back was to the door and you could see the child watching with big eyes. 

“I don’t know any kid! I live here alone!” You said calmly, knowing Brahms would be here any moment. You froze at that realization; Brahms couldn’t fight a man with a gun. 

The man smacked your face with the back of his hand and placed the end of his gun at your chin. “Where’s the fucking kid!” You watched from the corner of your eye as the kid slowly crawled across the grass towards you. Coming up from behind the man, it looked you in the eyes from a few inches away and you realized what was about to happen. 

“I’ll ask you one more time; where’s the k-” The man didn’t get to finish his sentence as the child jumped up and snapped his head back. You rolled out of the way as the gun fired at your previous spot on the ground. 

You watched in horror as the man fell lifeless to the ground and the kid snapped his neck a few more times in different angles to make sure he was dead. You let out a shaky breath and it’s eyes locked with yours, crawling quickly over to you and staring inches away from your face. 

So many questions went through your head and you felt your motherly instincts come through. You watched as the child eyed your face and slowly reached up to touch your cheeks and nose. The boy made a humming sound and it took you a minute to realize it was trying to pronounce something. “M-M-” It tried, and your heart calmed down. “M-m-mommy. Mommy.” It chanted, it’s voice unused but still it held a British accent. 

“Mommy.” You replied and the child smiled briefly before footsteps came your way. 

“What the fuck happened!? What is that!?” Brahms asked angrily and loud, moving toward you too fast for the child’s liking. It growled at Brahms and held your head in its arms, crawling in your lap and pulling your jacket around him. 

“(Y/N)…” Brahms put his hands up to show the kid he meant no harm and you could barely breathe. 

“Brahms, it saved me.” You looked at it as it stared at your lover from inside your jacket, quietly growling. “It’s just a little boy. Not even ten yet.” You spoke softly, careful not to frighten the child. 

Brahms was breathing heavily and he was completely drenched. Sighing, he looked over to the body of the man on the ground. “Jesus. Get inside, take him with you. I’ll deal with this.” He motioned to the house and you stood, taking the kid in your arms and walking back to the house. 

“Mommy. Mommy. Mommy.” He repeated, playing with your hair as you shut the door behind you and went into the kitchen. You set him down in a chair and he crouched in it, looking around the house and watching as you made him a quick sandwich. You put the plate in front of him and he stared at you. 

“You poor thing.” You said softly, taking the food and slowly showing him how to eat it. Eventually, he finished the sandwich off and then proceeded to follow you upstairs as Brahms came in. 

“I’m going to get him cleaned up. Maybe he’s a missing kid and we just don’t recognize him.” You said and Brahms nodded, locking eyes with the kid who tilted his head at him. 

“C’mon.” You said to the boy and he looked up at you and smiled. 

“Mommy. Mommy.” He crawled around the ground in front of you and you made your way into the bathroom. You’d never known how to take care of a child, but you and Brahms had been trying for one so you had been reading up on how to care for one. The bath wasn’t the hardest part. It was cutting and combing the child’s hair and trying to get him into some clothes that were Brahms’ from when he was a kid, was. 

He had beautiful green eyes and light blonde hair that was wavy when dried. You took the child downstairs and watched as it tried to walk normally into the living room. When he saw Brahms, he hit the floor and ran to your legs. “Mommy.” It wined, and your eyes met Brahms’. You knew that look.

“Brahms...”

“We will talk about it when he’s asleep.” He brushed past you and hurried upstairs while you sat by the fire with the kid and slowly let him fall asleep on the couch next to you. 

“We can’t keep him.” Brahms’ voice said as he sat on your other side, staring at the child ho was drooling on the sofa. “He’s wild.”

“So were you.” You snapped. “We can help him.” 

“That man knew who he was. He was looking for him! More people will if he was someone’s child.” Brahms argued quietly. 

“Look at his wrists and ankles and tell me he was loved.” The scars from where the skin had been rubbed off too many times from cuffs were ragged. Brahms sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Brahms we can give this boy the care he needs. If we are good parents with him then maybe when he’s older we can have one of our own.” You pressed, watching as the child nearly rolled off the couch. 

“He’s already attached to you.” Brahms ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.” He caved, and you smiled, leaning up and pressing your lips to his. 

“Mommy...” The child whimpered from behind you, tears forming in his eyes from what you imagined would be a bad dream. Your heart ached and you pulled him up into your lap, wiping his tears and cooing to him. He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and made eye contact with Brahms. One of his hands was against your neck and the other was slowly reaching out towards Brahms’ face. 

You held your breath, watching as his small fingers touched the side of Brahms’ scar. “D-D-Daddy.” He formed the word after a few tries and Brahms felt a smile etch its way onto his face. 

“We’re keeping him.” Brahms nodded and let the child giggle when you did. This was going to be the start of something great.

Norman Bates: You watched from the window of the coffee shop as the little girl across the road sat on the sidewalk with nothing but a torn up dress on. You’d seen her a couple of times before but never thought anything of it; assuming her parents were around somewhere. 

“(Y/N), are you even listening to me?” Norman taped your hand and you looked back at him. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to focus on his rant about how H.P. Lovecraft was a deeper and darker author than Edgar Allen Poe. Your eyes wandered to the little girl again but she was gone. 

It took three more weeks until you saw her again; standing across the road from the coffee shop but wearing the same dress. She looked more malnourished and wild than she did before. You had come alone to the café this time and ordered an extra loaf of lemon cake just in case. You had questions and your mind raced as you watched her. 

She walked towards an alleyway and you watched as a man approached her, only to disappear in the darkened corner. Your heart leapt into your chest at the horrible thoughts that ran through your head and you got up, practically running out the door. 

“Hey!” You shouted as you went to the entrance of the alleyway, the man had a hold on the girls arm and a disguising look in his eyes. “Get your hands off her you filthy bastard!” You yelled, backing up as he threw her to the ground and turned to you.

“What are you going to do about it doll?” He mocked, adjusting his pants so they weren’t so obvious as what he was about to do. 

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You snapped, pushing past the pig to the girl who was crying on the ground. 

The man grabbed your arm and brought you close to his face; you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “She’s a little girl.” You said.

“Want me to take you instead?” He smirked and you then started to fear. This man had a foot in height on you and was a lot bigger build. 

“I’ll scream.” You warned and the guy frowned. 

“I’ll cut your throat before you do any of that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He didn’t manage to make it to your neck as the little girl took it from his grimy fingers and jumped up, piercing it through his neck. 

Instantly, the man let you go and you waited until he hit the ground before taking the girls arm and running back home. 

As soon as the front door shut, you shouted for Norman. You heard footsteps pounding on the stairs as he came around the corner, a worried look in his eyes. “What happened!?” He asked, reaching your face and cupping it in his hands. 

“I was at the café and I saw the little girl and there was a guy in the alleyway and he almost-” You trembled with anxiety and worry of what just happened. The small child clung to your legs and Norman nearly jumped out of his skin when she tried pushing him away from you. 

“Back!” She yelled, moving in front of you and pointing for Norman to move back. He obliged. 

“(Y/N), what the hell!” He shouted, his eyes not leaving hers. 

“She thinks you’re going to hurt me.” You realized, kneeling down to her level and turning her to face you. “He’s good. Not going to hurt us.” 

“Us?!” Norman asked and you sent him a look that made him shut his mouth. 

The little girl looked at you and nodded, wrapping her arms around your neck and letting you hug her. “Momma.” Her word went straight to your heart and you gave Norman a look that he knew he couldn’t argue with. 

“He was trying to hurt her and then me when I stopped him. He pulled a knife but she killed him with it.” You watched as Norman ran a hand over his face trying to process all that was going on. 

“Did anyone see you?” He asked and you shook your head as the child began to play with your hair. 

“She’s been abandoned, Norman. She has no one.” You smiled at her as she giggled when you poked her cheeks. Norman let out a groan.

“Clean her up. I’ll make dinner and will go into town tomorrow to see if she’s on a missing child poster.” You nodded and carried the girl to the bathroom where you bathed her and brushed her hair from her golden brown eyes. Her strawberry blonde hair was soft to the touch after you brushed the knots out. 

You found some of your old clothes and managed to make a nightgown out of an old shirt. You put her hair in pigtails and went downstairs with her, her hand holding onto your leg the whole time. 

Norman saw her peeking out from behind you and kneeled carefully, looking at her. “Do you have a name?” He asked. The little girl shook her head. 

“Do you know how old you are?” He continued and she looked at her hands before putting up seven fingers. He smiled at her, “Good job.” The little girl smiled and moved towards him.

“Do you know where your parents went?” Norman asked and she paused. You braced yourself for anything that could go wrong. 

“Poppa dead. Momma left.”

“Where did she go?” You asked, the little girl looked at you with tears in her eyes. 

“Store.” Your heart hurt for this girl and you looked at Norman who you could tell felt the same. “This many years.” 

The moment she held up two fingers, you nearly cried. You scooped her up in your arms and let her cry into your chest. “We aren’t leaving her. We aren’t leaving you behind. We will never do that to you.” You told yourself, Norman and the child. That was a promise you made. 

Norman nodded, rubbing your back as he silently agreed, letting the little girl slowly get used to the idea that some men where good and wouldn’t hurt her. 

After a few minutes, you managed to get her to sit down and eat, to which she did without complaint. Norman watched as she scarfed her food down and had to tell her to slow down before she choked herself. 

“Play!” She said as soon as you were done eating. Norman placed the dishes in the sink and all of you went into the living room. An hour passed of Norman lifting her up and flying her around the room like an airplane, she finally fell asleep. 

You pulled a blanket over her sleeping form and you made a palette ready for you on the floor next to the bed she was in. “Just for tonight. Until she is certain we aren’t leaving her.” You told Norman as he watched you from the doorway. Nodding, he came over and hugged you.

“What a wild day.” You sighed and he chuckled, kissing you softly. 

“I love you. This is going to be good for us.” Norman said quietly, looking at the small girl who started to whine. 

“Momma.” She called, sitting up a bit, waking up. 

“Stay with us?” You asked Norman as you cooed her back to sleep and made yourself comfy on the floor next to her. Norman nodded, turning the light off and moved to the floor, laying next to you and the new child he would soon call his daughter. 

[otomememento]

Queenly Directive

Cybird Creative Challenge: Day 22 - Queen

(Continued from Held Captive)

Only an hour ago, Rosette had been minding her own business, serenely unaware that there was another world out there.  Now, she was on a horse with a man she had just met, after falling down an impossible hole, off to see a King for a land she had never heard of.  She also learned that the man, Jonah Clemence, held the title of Queen of Hearts, making him one step next to the king he had previously mentioned.  His companion, an Edgar Bright, was the Jack of Hearts.  Evidently they were following some kind of card motif.  Somehow she couldn’t even laugh at his title; the man somehow defied being ridiculous in any way.

The only thing that soured her horse ride was the fact her wrists were still bound together.  Jonah had been nothing but gentle as he put her up on the horse and pulled himself up after her.  He held her securely, but not in a way that was less than professional.  He had taken back his cape, since it was now his back to the wind, while his body sheltered hers.  Rosette didn’t mind; she found she was feeling awfully warm now.

Every so often, she would look back at Jonah.  His golden eyes stared straight ahead, expression sharp and wary, lips set in a firm line.  He was alert, but not tense, and handled his horse with expert care.  Riding a little ways behind him was Edgar, who would occasionally look over at his superior with a faint smirk on his face, and Rosette could swear she saw him chuckle once or twice.  It was a curious world she had landed in, with different ranks and status, but the people were still decidedly human.  There was something comforting about that.

Rosette was not used to riding long distance; she was no well off and her family simply didn’t own horses.  So, she was rather stiff by the time they pulled up to a large building that could only be called ostentatious.  But, somehow it didn’t surprise her.  The two men she had met looked like they would hardly belong in a drab or decayed building.  Not with the pristine white uniforms they wore with such evident pride and poise.  Stopping inside the gates, Jonah dismounted and helped Rosette down, still so careful to make sure that she didn’t lose her balance since she wouldn’t be able to easily catch herself if she fell.  From his place on the ground, he handed the reins to Edgar.

“See that the horse is properly stabled,” he commanded curly.  “I will escort her inside.”  Edgar simply saluted his superior and rode away, taking Jonah’s horse with him.  One hand on Rosette’s back, Jonah guided her down the long walk towards the building.  They were met at the door by two soldiers, who silently saluted and opened the doors for their Queen.  Jonah brushed past them with barely a nod of acknowledgment; they didn’t seem to mind, and Rosette didn’t have time to question this.

To her great surprise, and immense relief, she wasn’t taken down to a dark, dank cell.  Instead she was brought into a rather elaborate sitting room, where she was carefully assisted into a plush red seat.  Jonah sat down opposite to her, oddly looking relaxed despite the fact his posture was picture perfect.  He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable or out of place, and Rosette knew that she must look both.  Unsure of what was going to happen to her, she indulged in a deep sigh.  The Queen gave her a sharp look.

“If you wish to speak, you may do so, as long as you can keep your voice at an even level,” he said as though granting her a great favor.  Rosette smiled weakly.

“I thought you were taking me prisoner,” she said ruefully.

“You are still my prisoner.  Unless you simply enjoy being handcuffed,” he said with a faint smirk.  Rosette blinked a few times, chastising herself mentally.  The man was still too handsome, even with that look on his face.  She blushed.

“What I meant was, don’t prisoners usually get put in a cell?” she asked tentatively.

“I trust the magic in those handcuffs,” said Jonah breezily.

“M…magic?”  That was the stuff of fairy tales and dreams as far as Rosette knew.  Or even a word to describe something wonderful.  But it certainly wasn’t something she’d expect a serious military man to bring up so casually.  There wasn’t a hint in Jonah’s face that he was joking with her.  In fact, she wondered if he was capable of it; he didn’t seem like the humorous type.

“How can you not know what magic is?” asked Jonah sharply.

“I know what it is, but I didn’t think it was real,” returned Rosette.  Jonah frowned, but it looked more like an expression of deep thought than of anger or disdain.

“You mentioned before that you were chasing a man?  Where you were chasing him from?” he asked slowly.

“Well, I bumped into him on the bridge near Big Ben.  Then I followed him into St. James’ Park.  That’s when I fell.  The next thing I knew, I was in that garden.  A man there caught me; he called himself Ray.  But I still had to chase the first man down because he dropped his pocket watch.”  She moved to fish it out of her pocket, only to realize that she just couldn’t get the angle right in her cuffs.  She pouted.  “After I left Ray, I bumped into the two of you.”  She didn’t have to include anything else; Jonah was there for the rest.

“I see.”  Jonah was silent for a long while.  “This is more pressing than I thought.”  He rose to his feet. ��“Stay here.  I’d better find you in this very room when I return, or things will not go well for you.  I must speak to the King immediately.”

With that Rosette was left alone, and she still hadn’t been cuffed.  She could only hope that she didn’t get an itch in the meantime.

[from-the-lemon-bars]

La Passion

I will love you with no regard to the actions of our enemies or the jealousies of actors. I will love you with no regard to the outrage of certain parents or the boredom of certain friends. I will love you no matter what is served in the world’s cafeterias or what game is played at each and every recess. I will love you no matter how many fire drills we are all forced to endure, and no matter what is drawn upon the blackboard in blurry, boring chalk. I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table.

I will love you no matter what your locker combination was, or how you decided to spend your time during study hall. I will love you no matter how your soccer team performed in the tournament or how many stains I received on my cheerleading uniform. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you if you cut your hair and I will love you if you cut the hair of others. I will love you if you abandon your baticeering, and I will love you if you if you retire from the theater to take up some other, less dangerous occupation. I will love you if you drop your raincoat on the floor instead of hanging it up and I will love you if you betray your father. I will love you even if you announce that the poetry of Edgar Guest is the best in the world and even if you announce that the work of Zilpha Keatley Snyder is unbearably tedious. I will love you if you abandon the theremin and take up the harmonica and I will love you if you donate your marmosets to the zoo and your tree frogs to M. I will love you as a starfish loves a coral reef and as a kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccine and as the horseradish loves the miyagi, as the tempura loves the ikura and the pepperoni loves the pizza.

I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer. I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness in the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged print of the document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. i will love you as a child loves to overhear the conversations of its parents, and the parents love the sound of their own arguing voices, and as the pen loves to write down the words these voices utter in a notebook for safekeeping. I will love you as a shingle loves falling off a house on a windy day and striking a grumpy person across the chin, and as an oven loves malfunctioning in the middle of roasting a turkey.

I will love you as an airplane loves to fall from a clear blue sky and as an escalator loves to entangle expensive scarves in its mechanisms. I will love you as a wet paper towel loves to be crumpled into a ball and thrown at a bathroom ceiling and as an eraser loves to leave dust in the hairdos of people who talk too much. I will love you as a cuff-link loves to drop from its shirt and explore the party for itself and as a pair of white gloves loves to slip delicately into the punch bowl. I will love you as the taxi loves the muddy splash of a puddle and as a library loves the patient tick of a clock.

[ecotone99]

[MS] The Game

The sun cast an eerie shadow through the windows that brisk autumn afternoon. The way the silhouettes of the leaves danced across the floor and scaled the walls, ascending to the ceiling as if weightless and carefree. The shadows offered a proper mood to the situation as Mr. Welch sat in his living room. The rhythmic tick echoing from the watch precisely fashioned around his wrist, 2:34pm. The conversation around him became nothing but white noise, the imagery from outside creating facades within his mind. The wind was consistent yet gentle, the trees and the wind seemed to peacefully coexist and become one. “Edgar, we need to figure out what happened here” as if ripped from his alternate reality by these words, they felt as if he’d been struck across the face.

The man with the shiny black boots and that common pale skin tone were all that jumped out to Edgar, the contrast came across so different, but he relished in the similarities. Edgar had been known for such things, his pedigree in the fashion industry made life in a small town rather impossible. The man spoke again but he quickly became white noise, the details that scrawled across his uniform quickly flashed at Edgar, like the world’s least colorful fireworks show. The laces on the boots were tied to perfection, as if years of practice and most likely scrutiny from a nasty loved one lead to such execution. The thoughts ran a mile between the edges of Edgar’s mind, bouncing off the walls and crafting those dark and mysterious images he’d come to long for. “Edgar, your wife is missing and your story plants you at your home during the hours she would have gone missing. You have no information as to where they could be?” The question seemed to carry a supercilious tone, quit playing dumb with us Welch, I’ll cuff and drag your sorry ass back to the station in a heartbeat. These were the emotions Edgar imagined being tossed around underneath that tight cap of his. The badge read “M. Williams” which came as a surprise to Edgar, the officer was thin and scrawny but presumably fit underneath those increasingly bland clothes. He struck Edgar as a Samuel, or maybe even an Oliver “What does the M stand for Officer, if you don’t mind me asking” the question came across as inquisitive, but it seemed to anger Williams. He grabbed Edgar by the collar and hoisted him into the air with what felt like ease. “It’ll stand for my fucking foot in your ass if you don’t start answering my questions, where did your wife go!” This was no longer a game for Edgar, his shirt had been heaved from the waistband of his jeans and his neatly combed hair disheveled from the violent shaking.

The pale face that once calmly stood before him was replaced with a bright red; his eyes quickly shifted to that of what you’d see on a wild animal. This wasn’t the behavior of your average uniform, Mr. Williams seemed to take what Edgar had done personally, as if he were the brother of his wife. “Officer, officer. All you had to do was ask. I can give you access to my wife’s office if you’d like but I simply have but a clue where she went.” This seemed to ease the aggression, his grip loosened, and Edgar’s now ruffled collar slipped from his grasp. They started down the dimly lit hallway, Janice was never one for the fancy lights and the fine hardwood flooring, she enjoyed the shadows that danced their halls in the later hours of the day. The mahogany door at the end of the hall was her office, where she met with clients and had those simply dreadful conference calls. Edgar always hated what she did, slipping out unexpectedly for hours, sometimes even days at a time to some place she never quite disclosed. He outstretched his hand for the golden doorknob, his face obscured in the spherical illusion.

Edgar looked at the clock, 11:21am. The birds had finished their chirping and the frigid air seemed to reside from the trees. The coffee pot chimed those 3 wonderful beeps from the kitchen as Janice’s heels ticked across the hall. Edgar sat in his chair, placed perfectly in the corner of the living room, from this place he felt the tranquility and freedom of the outdoors while experiencing the safety and security of his home. Again, the noises around him fell to a silent hush as he focused on the world before him, the world spoke to him like nobody ever could. Amid this reposeful state, he neglected the sounds of his wife calling out to him. “Edgar, they need me to head out West for a few days again, something’s wrong with one of the clients.” She spoke so sure of her lies, but when she came to bid her final goodbye Edgar snapped from his state. That scent, that familiar scent he thought to himself as she started away from him. The perfume he’d bought for her months ago as a present for their 10-year anniversary. He smelt it when they made love that night and hadn’t smelt it since, unless she was leaving town. She started back towards her office to collect her things as Edgar rose from his chair. That whore, all this time her clients have been nothing but a facade, an apparition to cloud me from the truth. He knew what he had to do, there was no other way.

Edgar turned the knob, but the door refused to give way. “My apologies, I left the keys on the counter in the kitchen. Would you mind grabbing them for me?” Officer Williams glanced at Edgar, confused as to how he could forget the door was locked, but feeling slightly guilty for the incident earlier he reluctantly started back to the kitchen. The keys glistened in the light cast through the windows as Williams took them in his hand. He turned to leave but something caught his eye as he walked out. The symmetry in the room was off, something felt wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He looked to the window and found the issue, sitting below the ledge was a knife block with 3 empty places. The dishwasher was opened and empty, the sink was clear of any utensils. Strange- he thought as he started back to Ms. Welch’s office. “Sorry I got distracted, here’s the keys” Edgar slid the keys into the hole above the knob, the lock snapped back as he turned his hand. The door opened with a violent creak and the two men entered.

Janice stepped from behind her office door and checked her watch, 11:24am. She knew her train left at 11:45am and she needed to hurry. She looked up to see Edgar leaning against the wall at the end of the corridor. “Sweetie is there something you need?” his face remained cold and emotionless, his eyes piercing hers and peering into what felt like her soul. “Where did you say you were going again, darling?” his question felt as cold as his gaze, with a hint of suspicion. He took a step towards her, brandishing one of her knives from the kitchen. “See, you never wear that perfume Janice” He never uses my first name… somethings wrong she thought as he continued towards her “you see, these little surprise business trips got me thinking Janice. You never come home during the day, you’re always a little out of place, and you always smell like that fucking perfume” he disclosed a second blade, a butchers knife opposed to the smaller steak knife he held in his other hand. “Honey please, you’re being ridiculous” He raised his arm and threw the butchers knife at her, it connected with her torso as she let out a blood curdling scream. She slumped to the floor, her screaming continuing as Edgar charged towards her.

Williams covered his nose; the stench seemingly flew towards them from within the office. He began to panic and started towards the closet on the far end of the room, he unlatched the doors and drew them. He keeled over as he felt his insides churn, Ms. Welch’s lifeless and headless corpse was slumped in the floor of the closet. The insects flew about her wounds and the area surrounding her. He turned back towards Edgar and felt a rush of adrenaline course throughout his system. He glanced down to see the 15’ carving knife slammed into his stomach, his blood pouring from the bottom of the wound onto the floor. Edgar took a step back as Williams threw a hand in his direction, tumbling to his knees. The red tint quickly faded from his cheeks as his insides began spilling out. He looked up at Edgar, a crooked smile plastered seemingly ear-to-ear on his face. “Oh Marcus, you should’ve minded your own business.” He knelt to meet Marcus’ gaze. Blood began to spurt from his mouth as his attempted to cuss out Edgar. He felt icy hands run through his hair as his cap toppled to the floor. Edgar took a firm grip and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “And you shouldn’t have fucked my wife” Edgar grabbed the handle of the knife and ripped it from Marcus’ mid section, proceeding to slash it across his throat and letting his limp corpse collapse to the floor.

Edgar glanced at his watch, 3:10pm. He lowered himself back into his chair and admired the birds positioned peacefully on the banister of his porch. They chirped and nestled together to escape the cool breeze. Edgar tilted his head back and took a deep breath, that same crooked smile growing from within him as a loud knock came from his front door. “Mr. Welch. Mr. Welch, it’s the police. Open up” He lifted himself from his seat and exhaled. One final thought graced the surface of his mind.

“And the game begins again.”

submitted by /u/mmmSoupTime [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/37sZXUU

[annhens93x]

6 Steps for Developing Lagging Body Parts

1 of 7

Bring Up Your Lagging Body Parts

Per Bernal / M+F Magazine

Unless you're a genetic specimen who has managed to chisel a perfectly proportioned physique in the gym, you probably have a body part (or two) that you’d like to work on—for most guys, that’s the chest, arms, and shoulders. However, merely hammering that muscle with more volume isn’t always the answer. In fact, it can lead to injury. But no worries: As a competitive bodybuilder and physique coach, I’m here to supply you with the same unique advice I dole out to my clients and use on myself to bring up your lagging body parts.

FEATURED WORKOUT: SUMMER SHRED 2017>>

2 of 7

1. Improve Your Posture

Edgar Artiga

Rarely do I meet someone with a lagging body part who doesn’t have poor posture. To have balanced posture, your muscular structure needs to be balanced and strong from front to back. Weak muscles create instability, and, when they’re placed under tension, stronger muscle groups take over. Rounded shoulders, which are a common example, create a lot of instability. You end up placing more tension on your shoulders and triceps when you bench-press rather than on your chest. You can change your setup all you like, but if you’re unstable it won’t make any difference. You need to work on strengthening the muscles that help stabilize your scapula and support thoracic extension (lower traps, thoracic extensors, and rhomboids) with moves like face-pulls and barbell rows. Not only will this improve your posture, it will also enable you to press from a more stable base, and more tension will be felt where it should. Poor posture isn’t corrected by standing better; it’s a sign that something is weak and needs to be strengthened.

3 of 7

2. Train Through a Full Range of Movement

Ian Spanier

Muscles have a fully lengthened range (think of the biceps when your arm is fully stretched out) and a fully contracted range (think of the biceps when you show off your magnificent guns). To fully develop a muscle, you need to train it through its entire range. But most people aren’t prepared to lift a weight appropriate for their strength. There will always be parts of any movement where you’re weaker. If you learn to train where you’re weaker first, trust me, you will grow a lot more quickly. However, because it’s easier to throw a weight past the hard parts of a lift, that is what most people do, and their physiques suffer for it. This leads nicely to No.3.

4 of 7

3. Improve Your Muscle Control

Caiaimage/Sam Edwards / Getty

To grow, you need to stimulate as much of the muscle as possible, which means lifting with control. From the moment you move a joint, you need to be in control of the muscle you’re training and remain in control, even during the lowering (or eccentric) phase. For most guys, this means using less weight. It may dent your ego to be seen lifting 50% of what you normally do, but remember that you’re in the gym to change your body, not to impress others. You also have to remember that you’ve remained the same for long enough, so what you’re currently doing isn’t working.

5 of 7

4. Know Your Active Range of Movement

Westend61 / Getty

Training beyond the point at which you feel the muscle you’re trying to target could cause injury as well as deactivate the working muscle. You must learn the range you can control a load through, and remain within it. Go beyond it, and other muscle groups kick in. For instance, think of the bench press: You lower the bar and feel your pecs working until the bar gets about two inches from your chest, then you suddenly feel your shoulders start to round and you lose tension in your chest. At this point, the load has switched to your shoulders, traps, and triceps. This doesn’t work the chest, and leaves your shoulders open to injury, particularly rotator cuff pain.

6 of 7

5. Learn to Initiate

Peathegee Inc / Getty

If I told you it’s important to start an exercise with the muscle you intend to work, you’d assure me you do. However, consider my third point about muscle control: You have a fully lengthened and fully shortened range of a muscle. But you need to focus on developing the entire length, so you should contract the muscle before even starting the lift. This ensures that you fire up the muscle you want to develop. Think about a dumbbell biceps curl: At the fully stretched position, most people swing the dumbbell up for the first two inches when they should contract the muscle in this fully stretched position, which is actually very hard to do. But if you don’t initiate with the working muscle, you allow other muscles to do the lift, in this case the deltoid. You also miss the opportunity to develop muscle tissue at the extremes of the range of movement.

7 of 7

6. Know When to Stop

Matthew Leete / Getty

Training a weak muscle frequently is popular, and rightly so—it works. But there’s no point if you’re not training it correctly. A weaker muscle group can be trained more than once a week. But you need to train it only to the point when you fatigue. Let’s say you stick to all the principles in this article, and you get nine sets into chest and you’re toast. This is when you should stop. Don’t push on and do poor reps just to add volume. Leave the workout at nine intense and focused sets. Go home and get some rest. Then come back in 48 hours and do the same again. Instead of busting out 18 crappy sets, split the volume into two perfect sessions. A muscle will grow if it’s stimulated correctly, so focus only on precise execution—quality over quantity.

Previous Next

from Muscle and Bodybuilding http://bit.ly/2x1PwIK via IFTTT

[itsjaybullme]

6 Steps for Developing Lagging Body Parts

1 of 7

Bring Up Your Lagging Body Parts

Per Bernal / M+F Magazine

Unless you're a genetic specimen who has managed to chisel a perfectly proportioned physique in the gym, you probably have a body part (or two) that you’d like to work on—for most guys, that’s the chest, arms, and shoulders. However, merely hammering that muscle with more volume isn’t always the answer. In fact, it can lead to injury. But no worries: As a competitive bodybuilder and physique coach, I’m here to supply you with the same unique advice I dole out to my clients and use on myself to bring up your lagging body parts.

FEATURED WORKOUT: SUMMER SHRED 2017>>

2 of 7

1. Improve Your Posture

Edgar Artiga

Rarely do I meet someone with a lagging body part who doesn’t have poor posture. To have balanced posture, your muscular structure needs to be balanced and strong from front to back. Weak muscles create instability, and, when they’re placed under tension, stronger muscle groups take over. Rounded shoulders, which are a common example, create a lot of instability. You end up placing more tension on your shoulders and triceps when you bench-press rather than on your chest. You can change your setup all you like, but if you’re unstable it won’t make any difference. You need to work on strengthening the muscles that help stabilize your scapula and support thoracic extension (lower traps, thoracic extensors, and rhomboids) with moves like face-pulls and barbell rows. Not only will this improve your posture, it will also enable you to press from a more stable base, and more tension will be felt where it should. Poor posture isn’t corrected by standing better; it’s a sign that something is weak and needs to be strengthened.

3 of 7

2. Train Through a Full Range of Movement

Ian Spanier

Muscles have a fully lengthened range (think of the biceps when your arm is fully stretched out) and a fully contracted range (think of the biceps when you show off your magnificent guns). To fully develop a muscle, you need to train it through its entire range. But most people aren’t prepared to lift a weight appropriate for their strength. There will always be parts of any movement where you’re weaker. If you learn to train where you’re weaker first, trust me, you will grow a lot more quickly. However, because it’s easier to throw a weight past the hard parts of a lift, that is what most people do, and their physiques suffer for it. This leads nicely to No.3.

4 of 7

3. Improve Your Muscle Control

Caiaimage/Sam Edwards / Getty

To grow, you need to stimulate as much of the muscle as possible, which means lifting with control. From the moment you move a joint, you need to be in control of the muscle you’re training and remain in control, even during the lowering (or eccentric) phase. For most guys, this means using less weight. It may dent your ego to be seen lifting 50% of what you normally do, but remember that you’re in the gym to change your body, not to impress others. You also have to remember that you’ve remained the same for long enough, so what you’re currently doing isn’t working.

5 of 7

4. Know Your Active Range of Movement

Westend61 / Getty

Training beyond the point at which you feel the muscle you’re trying to target could cause injury as well as deactivate the working muscle. You must learn the range you can control a load through, and remain within it. Go beyond it, and other muscle groups kick in. For instance, think of the bench press: You lower the bar and feel your pecs working until the bar gets about two inches from your chest, then you suddenly feel your shoulders start to round and you lose tension in your chest. At this point, the load has switched to your shoulders, traps, and triceps. This doesn’t work the chest, and leaves your shoulders open to injury, particularly rotator cuff pain.

6 of 7

5. Learn to Initiate

Peathegee Inc / Getty

If I told you it’s important to start an exercise with the muscle you intend to work, you’d assure me you do. However, consider my third point about muscle control: You have a fully lengthened and fully shortened range of a muscle. But you need to focus on developing the entire length, so you should contract the muscle before even starting the lift. This ensures that you fire up the muscle you want to develop. Think about a dumbbell biceps curl: At the fully stretched position, most people swing the dumbbell up for the first two inches when they should contract the muscle in this fully stretched position, which is actually very hard to do. But if you don’t initiate with the working muscle, you allow other muscles to do the lift, in this case the deltoid. You also miss the opportunity to develop muscle tissue at the extremes of the range of movement.

7 of 7

6. Know When to Stop

Matthew Leete / Getty

Training a weak muscle frequently is popular, and rightly so—it works. But there’s no point if you’re not training it correctly. A weaker muscle group can be trained more than once a week. But you need to train it only to the point when you fatigue. Let’s say you stick to all the principles in this article, and you get nine sets into chest and you’re toast. This is when you should stop. Don’t push on and do poor reps just to add volume. Leave the workout at nine intense and focused sets. Go home and get some rest. Then come back in 48 hours and do the same again. Instead of busting out 18 crappy sets, split the volume into two perfect sessions. A muscle will grow if it’s stimulated correctly, so focus only on precise execution—quality over quantity.

Previous Next

from Bodybuilding Feed http://www.muscleandfitness.com/workouts/workout-tips/6-steps-developing-lagging-body-parts via http://www.rssmix.com/

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE PHOTOGRAPHER get what he deserves?” He is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.”

— he walks through the world as ;

name → benedict misslethorpe pronouns → he/him identification → cis-male year of birth → september 1957 - september 1958 face claim → ncuti gatwa blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → homosexual (gay) occupation → photographer for the daily prophet  future information → n/a

— he is best described as ;

A POLAROID PICTURE, ever CHANGING with the light but BEAUTIFUL & DETERMINED once DEVELOPED. He is the DOODLED PLANS in the back of a NOTEBOOK & the DREAMS SHARED in a hushed WHISPER. He is CREATIVITY & CONTROL, with a GLEAM in his EYE for the WANT of SOMETHING GREATER than HIMSELF. The DESIRE to be REMEMBERED. The DESIRE to make HISTORY.

— his story starts with ;

tw: death

The name Misslethrope means something in Wizarding Britain. Whilst the Malfoys are associated with politics and the Jones family with the law, the blood of the Misslethrope family runs black with ink. His great grandfather Augustine Misslethorpe was once the editor of The Daily Prophet, his grandmother Mary Misslethrope was the first British editor-in-chief of Enchantée in Paris and his uncle TOBIAS MISSLETHROPE [uncle] is the current and most successful editor-in-chief of Witch Weekly magazine. Benedict wanted nothing more than to follow in their footsteps, but heavy was the hand that held the quill. His family were successful but they were ruthless and there was no room within the family for those who were deemed subpar. Benedict’s father William was an established senior reporter at The Daily Prophet who lost out on the position of editor to up and coming journalist BARNABUS CUFFE [boss]. The family were outraged and instead of seeing it as an unfortunate incident of Barnabas beating William to the story of the century through means no one knew, he became a cautionary tale as to what might happen if you lose your nerve.

Each evening before the family sat down to dinner at their opulent town house in London, his grandmother Mary would remind him of their legacy. The words bounced around in Benedict’s mind, his palms sweaty as he recorded them in his journal. Sorted into Ravenclaw, Benedict was proud to join the other members of his family who had been in the house for generations and found his family name preceded him. Teachers expected more from Benedict because of his name and he found he was judged more harshly because of it, especially when he joined The Hogwarts Gazette. Like his father, EDGAR CUFFE [adversary] was an editor who ruled with an iron first. Edgar didn’t care what it took to get a story and favoured students who weren’t afraid to go the distance like RITA SKEETER [boss/former adversary] and BERTHA JORKINS [adversary]. It was expected Benedict would join them in their escapades and after refusing he was subject to scathing comments from his colleagues. It was only when muggle-born student EDWARD TONKS [close friend/housemate/colleague] joined the paper that their cruelty came to an end. 

People like Ted proved you didn’t need a famous name or pure-blood to be successful at the paper and introduced him to ELIZABETH BRAITHWAITE [close friend/housemate/colleague] and EMILIA GREY [close friend/housemate/colleague] who could write circles round their adversaries. Benedict came to trust the group, enough so that they told him that his writing at times wasn’t up to scratch; he was inclined to believe it. People like Emilia and Betty had ink in their veins because they longed to be journalists, unlike Benedict who had been convinced since he was born he was destined to be one. When Benedict left school he was lost and his parents wanted answers. Thinking on his feet, Benedict told his family he had accepted a writing internship in New York, instead running away to Whitby to stay with Ted and his family for the summer while he decided what to do when he returned home. Staying with the Tonks family opened up Benedict to a whole new world, a one of love rather than expectation and above all a one of enlightenment. Ted never left the house without his camera and one day by the beach with Ted’s friends, Benedict decided to experiment with it. 

At first he began taking photos of the seaside, then the people enjoying themselves on the sand, before moving to take close up shots of Ted and the muggles he called friends. Each day he would photograph them, their strange fashions, their behaviour, the looks they gave one another when no one noticed. Benedict had found his passion and he wouldn’t see himself be parted with it. Swanning back to London with his photo series of muggles in his arm, he applied for a job at The Daily Prophet as a photographer and was elated when it was accepted. Benedict was adamant that his talent would speak for itself in his new job and he began introducing himself as Bozo, a name he thought sounded anonymous and artistic, rather than his own that was synonymous in his mind with nepotism. Benedict had grand ideas about the life that lay ahead of him, pitching stories to Barnabus Cuffe and creating beautiful photo stories that would illuminate the pages of the paper. He would be the first person in the Misslethorpe family to be famous in spite of being a Misslethrope and although he worked hard, he quickly found that life without his surname was much harder than he thought it would be.

His position often involved accompanying a lower paid journalist to photograph something menial like a ribbon cutting or a person who suspected gnomes had eaten their newspaper. Each story he went to photograph he did with a smile, patiently awaiting the day his big break would arrive, trying not to grit his teeth as the likes of Edgar Cuffe and ADRIAN CAVERELY [rival] climbed over the years due to their connections. Moving in with his friends from The Hogwarts Gazette, Benedict hoped to ground himself outside of the world of his family, with real journalists with the same hunger he had. Although Benedict loved living with his friends, he once again felt the familiar hand of jealousy as he tried to be happy for Ted securing a dream role of working directly for ELIAS SPENSER-MOON [colleague]. Benedict still tried to stay true to himself however, suggesting QUIRINUS QUIRRELL [close friend/housemate/colleague] for a job with GILDEROY LOCKHART [colleague] and honestly hoping he would succeed. When a position came up with Rita Skeeter, who was now an established columnist. to be her personal photographer, Benedict shamelessly jumped at it. He knew he deserved more than life as a celebrity photographer, but he was growing impatient. 

Working with Rita was surprisingly more interesting than he thought it would be. Rita had connections and before he knew it, Benedict was invited to glittering parties and shaking hands with the elite he’d long since associated with his uncle. His new world was exciting, the one he deserved but it came with a horrible price he knew he’d have to pay for fame. Rita famously worked in the grey, which meant Benedict now did also. Days were spent following people around snapping photos of people in private moments and he was sorry to say he’d contributed to various celebrity break-ups and the fall of a cosmetics company due to his photos. But Rita longed for something more and the pair believe they may have found it. When the young eligible bachelorette GENEVIEVE AVERY [person of interest] married Victor Wilkes the world was shocked, but more shocking still, was when he turned up dead on their wedding night. Benedict and Rita are certain there is more to this story than meets the eye and are determined to prove Genevive is to blame. The story is one Benedict can’t help but get lost in, but as he emerges himself in the world of the British Wizarding elite Benedict must be careful not to lose himself in the process and be cautious about who he plasters on the front page.

— he is a LEVEL 4 WIZARD &  readied for war ;

[moonwatchuniverse]

50 years ago, Apollo 14 on the Moon … February 5 1971, lunar EVA image showing Apollo 14 commander Alan Shepard, standing near the MET = Modularized Equipment Transporter, and LMP Edgar Mitchell, in the background working at a sub-package of the ALSEP  = Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package. Note the cuff checklist on Shepard’s wrist and his NASA-issued Omega Speedmaster 145.012 chronograph on his left forearm. The red bands on the arms & legs of the A7LB spacesuit, distinguished the commander from the Lunar Module Pilot. These red stripes were introduced after Apollo 12, as post-flight Moonwalkers Bean & Conrad had difficulties identifying themselves on lunar surface photographs. Apollo 14 CMP Stuart Roosa and Edgar Mitchell took their personal Rolex GMT-master 1675 pilot watch onboard their Moonflight. Apollo 14 Moonwalkers, Shepard and Mitchell conducted two lunar EVAs, the first 600 m westwards from LM and a second 2900 m roundtrip eastwards from the Lunar Module Antares. They stayed 33 hours on the lunar surface and collected 42 kilograms Moon rocks & samples. (Photo: NASA)