#this is totally not inspired by me seeing a client come in for his appointment holding his helmet. totally not that!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrybracelets · 3 years

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I’ll Take You On

bucky barnes x f. reader

18+ / drinking mentions, heavy smut (unprotected s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) )

inspired by: ill take you on by brockhampton

For your whole childhood, as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a veterinarian. You had loved animals, and couldn’t imagine a better way to spend your days than caring for them. But, as you grew up and the harsh realities of adulthood and capitalism dawned upon you, your dream was becoming less likely.

Vet school was way over you and your mom’s budget. It was just the two of you, and she wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of cash at her teaching job. So, you had to get a bit more realistic.

After graduation college with a business degree, you set forth into the world hoping for a lifetime of amazing opportunities. But, a job didn’t come as easy as you’d hoped, and you were getting desperate. So desperate, in fact, that you called your estranged father begging for a job.

Your father left your mom when you were nine. You didn’t care much, as he wasn’t around a lot anyways. He was some big shot lawyer in Miami, and he was always traveling for work. It was honestly easier on you and your mom once he left. He didn’t make much an effort to connect with you after that, only calling every few months and sending wads of cash on Holidays, hoping to make up for his absence.

So, as you pushed aside your pride to call and ask for his help, it was really the least he could do. And lucky for you, his firm’s office manager had just quit. It didn’t sound like an incredibly difficult job and the pay was beyond what you wanted. Your father was most likely overcompensating with the salary. But he could afford it.

He also promised you a place to live, rent free. He owned multiple properties around the city, most of which he never used. It was kind of the perfect situation. A little suspiciously perfect.

But there were no other options. You needed a job and he desperately needed to feel like he wasn’t the worst father in the world. It was a win-win for both of you.

And obviously, Miami wasn’t the worst place you could be. You didn’t know anyone besides your father, but you didn’t care. The idea of relaxing on a beach alone soothed you way more than a group of screaming drunk girls.

After a week of settling into your apartment and the city, it was finally time to start your new job. You had met up with your father multiple times already, getting prepared for the job and visiting a few of his favorite spots around the city. He was actually really kind, but it was slightly uncomfortable talking to him.

You walked into his office on your first day, shaking in nerves as you prepared to meet your new coworkers. Would they treat you kindly, or did they catch up on the obvious nepotism that was lingering through this entire situation?

But your fears were quickly buried over as his staff welcomed you with open arms, talking highly of you and about how “proud” your father was to have you working here. You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to show a warmer side to his staff, but you let it slide. You had a job and place to live because of him, so it was the least you could do.

You spent the morning learning the phone and computer system, battling intrusive questions from everyone in the office and trying to learn how to work the damn coffee machine. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad job.

You never really knew what kind of law your father practiced, and maybe that was something you should’ve asked before, so you were a little less shocked. His clients were mega rich and famous. And your father was just mega rich. It kind of pissed you off, seeing how well he lived and how you and your mom never saw a penny of it. Part of you wanted to scream at him, break all the expensive glasses in his office and storm out. But what was the point? Caring about him was more energy than it was worth.

Your father met with his clients throughout the day, and part of your job was welcoming them to the office, getting them something to drink, and telling your father when they arrive. And today, at 2:12 PM, twelve minutes late for his appointment, he walked in.

“James Barnes. I’m here to see Henry,” he commanded, not bothering to look up from his cell phone and pay you an ounce of attention.

“Of course. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked kindly, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He stood towering over you, his large frame blocking the light above, casting a shadow over your desk. He was one of the most beautiful and intimidating people you’d ever seen. You felt like you were going to choke if he looked directly at you.

But he didn’t. He walked cooly over to the sofa in the waiting area and sat down, mumbling “Scotch…”.

You stood up and walked away quickly, desperately trying to catch your breath. You slipped quietly into your father's office, smiling as you closed the door behind you.

“James Barnes is here. And he mentioned something about scotch, which I’m not sure if I’m authorized to give…”

Your father chuckled and stood up, walking over to a small bar cart in his office and pouring two drinks.

“Everyone calls him Bucky. He’s a good friend. Come on, i’ll introduce you.”

You followed behind your father in a daze, not ready to face him, not ready for his eyes to meet yours. Your skin felt hot and the room was spinning as your head, his loud voice greeting your father in excitement.

“Bucky! It’s been too long!” Your father yelled, handing him a drink and smiling sheepishly.

“Yeah, I had to be in New York a bit longer than I thought,” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. You were hiding behind your father, hoping he would forget about you and you could sneak away without a word. But of course you wouldn’t get away that easily.

“Bucky, I have to introduce you to my daughter. Today is her first day working here! (Y/N), come introduce yourself,” he instructed, turning towards you and ushering you in closer to Bucky.

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, the sound of your name in his mouth making your whole body light up. You had never heard it sound so beautiful before. He reached his hand out towards you, and you grabbed it lightly. His hands were soft and cold, shocking your skin as he touched you. As you shook hands, he leaned towards you, the smell of mint and tobacco pouring from his skin.

“Why don’t we head to your office, Henry,” he frowned, dropping your hand and turning towards your father. You brought your hand back to your side, confused and dizzy as you found your seat.

“Can… can I get you anything, Henry?” You stuttered, realizing awkwardly that this was the first time you’d addressed him, and you didn’t say dad. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, and you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Sorry, thought that would be more professional. Totally awkward, right?” You laughed, trying to ease the tension. You didn’t think your father would care if you called him Henry, but maybe he wanted you to play into the sweet daughter character at work.

“No, sweetheart, this is actually a private meeting. I don’t want any interruptions, unless someone’s dead. Okay?” He said in a serious tone, pushing aside any awkwardness. He hadn’t said this with any other clients he’s seen today, so it gave you an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

You turned towards Bucky, looking for some sign of a joke with him. But his face was carved of stone, his eyes locked on your father as if he expected Henry’s devout secrecy for any conversation they had.

The two walked quietly into his office and shut the door, leaving the image of him to only exist in your mind. You were curious who exactly this beautiful mystery was, so you did what you always did. Googled him.

You searched for a while, under both of the names he went by. But nothing. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Nothing on Facebook, Linkedin was empty, Twitter and Instagram were farfetched. It was like he didn’t exist. You even unblocked your father on facebook to stalk his friends and see if he existed there, but nothing. He was a ghost.

You got frustrated after a while, sitting back angrily in your chair, realizing you had three voicemails. Yikes, you were not very good at this job.

You finished all your work quickly, hoping it would distract you from him.

They spent the next two hours locked away in your fathers office, leaving you to wilt away in boredom. It only took about 30 minutes to catch up on calls and emails, and then all you could do was scroll aimlessly on your phone hoping someone would bother you.

But everyone seemed very quiet here. Beyond the initial excitement of meeting you in the morning, everyone stayed at their desks all day, focused intently on their own work. It was one of the quietest offices you’d ever been in. Maybe they were just trying to show off on your first day, or trying not to bother you… but it was odd.

At 4:15, your father loudly exited his office, Bucky following behind. He was smiling, something you hadn’t seen before. It was almost god-like, his perfect smile, radiating warmth and happiness. You wanted to be close to him again, missing the sweet smell of his lips…

“(Y/N), I have a request…” your father interrupted your daydreaming, making you jump as you stood up to help him.

“What’s up?” You asked casually, refusing to take your eyes off Bucky.

“Bucky and I are grabbing dinner tonight, and we’d love for you to join us,” he said quickly, Bucky finally turning towards you and meeting your glance.

“You… want me to come?” You asked quietly, Bucky still staring at you. He smirked slightly as you spoke, but refused to break your gaze.

“Well, Bucky would really love to get to know my daughter. You know how… proud I am of you. The light of my life!” He said, smiling intensely at you. You finally looked away from Bucky and towards your father as he spoke.

It was disgusting, the way your father was obviously using a fake relationship with you to get in good with his clients and employees. But you would’ve done anything to see Bucky again. So you agreed reluctantly, wondering why a man like Bucky would care about his lawyer's daughter…

“We’re going to a nice place so… dress up,” your father instructed, eyeing your clothes. You had noticed you were the least dressed up at the office.

“Um… I don’t really have a nice dress…” you whispered quietly, wondering how “nice” you needed to dress…

Your father pulled out his wallet, handing you a thick black AmEx card.

“I’ll have my driver take you downtown to some shops. Get whatever you want,” he instructed, pushing the card in your hand.

You didn’t refuse, why would you? Free shopping spree and dinner with some hot mystery man sounded like your perfect day.

You spent the next few hours in and out of shops, spending more money than your father most likely anticipated. But you needed a new wardrobe anyways, most of your old clothes were too warm to wear here.

You picked out a gorgeous light blue silk dress and some strappy white heels to match. You were maybe a little ‘under’ dressed for dinner with your father, but all you could focus on was Bucky. You felt high whenever he crossed your mind, your body unable to focus on anything except the feel of his cool skin touching yours.

By the time you were done shopping, it was almost time to meet them at dinner. The driver promised to bring the rest of your bags home and drop you right off at the restaurant. It was all the way across town, and you’d most likely still be late even if you left now. So you hopped in the car quickly, your new outfit looking perfect.

The drive to the restaurant took just as long as the driver said it would- maybe even longer. You were getting impatient as the time went by, wondering if he was thinking about you the way you were thinking of him.

It was unlikely. You still weren’t sure who exactly he was, but you knew he didn’t spend his time with ordinary girls.

But why did he want you to come to dinner? It was odd of him to take such an interest in you. None of your fathers other clients seemed to look twice in your direction. But then again, Bucky was the only one that required privacy.

As you got lost in your thoughts, your mind tumbling through expectations and excitement, your driver pulled swiftly up to the front entrance of Paterro’s.

Upon walking through the doors, you were taken aback by the overwhelming fanciness of this restaurant. Your father definitely undersold how nice it was. You felt slightly underdressed, but no one seemed to look twice at you. You were used to not turning heads, being able to walk through a crowd without notice.

That changed when you got to your table. Your father wasn’t there, most likely in the bathroom or at the bar. It was just him, looking just as beautiful as you pictured he would.

He wore a navy blue suit that hugged his skin tightly and left very little of his body up for imagination. As you walked towards him, his head lifted from the table and his eyes lingered towards your body. He gave you a soft smile, but he was obviously distracted by how much of you he was seeing.

“Your… Henry ran to grab a few cigars for later…” he mumbled, standing up awkwardly and pulling out a chair for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered, sitting shakily down in the chair as he pushed you in towards the table.

You were in between Bucky and your father’s seat, but much closer to Bucky. Your father came back less than 30 seconds later, which was ideal, since you couldn’t think of a single word to say to Bucky.

Your father greeted you kindly, a wide smile that read as ‘You better be good tonight.’ It clearly wasn’t normal for him to have guests attend his business dinners. He seemed just as put off as you did, but the two of you kept your thoughts to yourselves and made small talk.

“This is one of my favorite restaurants, (Y/N),” your father smiled, handing you a menu to you.

“I’m excited to be here. Thank you for having me,” you responded kindly.

Bucky and your father started talking about business, leaving you to your own thoughts as you scoured the menu. The prices were insane, but obviously you weren’t footing the bill. You had half a mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, for the hell of it, but you settled on a nice glass of red wine and pasta.

You weren’t included in much of the conversation, wondering why exactly you were invited in the first place. It seemed that the two of them barely even knew you were there. You sipped at your wine angrily, wondering how you could get Bucky’s attention.

It was then when you decided to make one of the riskiest decisions of your entire life. But, high risk, high reward, right?

Bucky cracked a joke with your father, and you laughed loudly and girlishly, forcing him to draw his eyes towards you. You then gently placed your hand on his knee, dragging your fingertips on his thigh lightly as you smiled at him. For a second, you forgot your father was even there, lost in the delight of finally having your hands on Bucky.

But you quickly drew your hand back, afraid of how far you’d go if you didn’t stop. Luckily your father didn’t seem to notice, or care. But Bucky did.

In fact, he was glaring at you. His fists were clenched on the table, his breath shaky and his stared. His face started to relax and he looked away, a slight smirk on his face as he grabbed his drink and gulped it.

“I have to run and make a quick phone call,” Bucky said abruptly, not waiting for a response before leaving the table.

You turned awkwardly to your father, not sure what to say to him at this moment. Thankful for you, he clearly felt the same, and buried himself in his phone. That was the nice thing about your father, he never forced you to talk.

Bucky was back quicker than you’d expected, looking relieved as he sat down.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “Where were we?”

The three of you started chatting again, a feat that only lasted about five minutes, before another interruption. Your father’s phone started ringing loudly, much to your embarrassment.

“One sec,” he whispered, jumping out of his chair and answering in a rush.

Your heart dropped as you realized you were alone with him for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after you nearly groped him under the table. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared intently at your fathers empty chair.

“Do you wanna talk about what the hell you’re doing?” Bucky growled at you, making you finally turn your head and face him head on.

“I don’t know what you mean…” you whispered innocently.

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m not gonna fall for your sweet girl act. Your father might, but I see right through it…” He snickered, taking a large sip from his third drink of the evening.

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you, James.” You could see him cringe at the sound of that name. You couldn’t help but to get under his skin. Something about him so angry made it hotter.

“Listen, if you wanna fuck me, just say it. I’m not here for all these little games.”

“You truly think every girl in the entire universe wants to have sex with you? Seems like somebody has a little ego problem,” you retorted, rolling your eyes and looking away.

“Oh, baby,” he laughed, touching your cheek lightly with his thumb. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t get under this table and suck my cock if you could?”

The thought of your mouth around him made you quiver, which was very evident to Bucky. He laughed coyly, before tightly gripping your chin. He brushed his thumb lightly over your lips, your body aching at his touch.

He dropped his hand quickly as your father approached the table, looking distraught.

“I’m so sorry guys... My client just called, major emergency. I’m gonna have to run… Bucky, can you make sure (Y/N) get’s home safe? I’m gonna have to take my car…”

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded at your father, enjoying the obvious win.

“I’ll take good care of her, man.”

Your father thanked Bucky, throwing his credit card to you for dinner and running off in a hurry. You felt sick to your stomach, all the red wine dancing around in your body. You felt Bucky’s hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your skin.

“You ready to go?” He winked, tilting his head for an answer. You could only nod, unable to think of any words to say.

Bucky tossed three one-hundred dollar bills down on the table, taking them from a large wad of cash hidden in his jacket. You felt dizzy at the sight of all the money, wondering where it could possibly be coming from.

The valet pulled Bucky’s car around, which was obviously something beautiful and fancy and nauseatingly expensive. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat. He leaned towards you after you were sitting, pulling your face to his. He kissed you intensely, not giving you a second to think, or breathe. You melted into him, allowing his body to do whatever he wanted.

But he quickly broke away, closing the door and getting in the driver seat. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the ride, just casually glancing in your direction every few minutes. You wondered if you should tell him where you lived, or if he already knew. But you quickly realized you weren’t going home.

You pulled up to a large white house on the beach. The gates opened promptly as you arrived. They closed quickly behind you, making you finally realize the intensity of the situation. You were here now, locked inside, with a complete stranger. A very, very hot stranger.

Bucky opened the door for you, clearly picking up your awe at the size of the house.

“I’m just renting it. I don’t usually stay in one place too long…” he explained, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“What exactly do you do?” You asked, instantly regretting it as you noticed the distaste in his voice.

“You don’t need to know that, yet,” he snapped, emphasizing the word ‘yet’. What the hell did that mean?

He ushered you through the front door, offering you a glass of wine as you entered. You accepted happily, staring at his wide wine collection that was much nicer than the box sitting in your fridge.

You sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions, realizing just then how tipsy you were. As he walked back towards you with your drinks, you felt a wave of excitement and spontaneity wash over you. Fuck wine, man. The worst and horniest decisions you ever made were because of wine.

Bucky set your drinks done and you didn’t waste any time. You jumped up towards him, pushing your lips onto his and dragging your hands down his body. He didn’t fight you, unbuckling his pants quickly. He began kissing your neck, pulling down the straps of your dress. You hadn’t worn a bra, giving his lips easy access to your breasts. He sucked your nipples lightly, grazing his teeth.

You pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body that at this point, you had expected. You brought your hand down to his dick, already hard and poking out through his boxers. You pushed him off of you as you got down to your knees, removing his boxers and taking his length into your mouth.

You flicked your tongue across his tip, making him shake under you. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself deeper into you, hitting the back of your throat. He moved in and out of your mouth, his hand holding your hair out of the way.

Finally he pulled out of your mouth, beckoning you to stand up. You did as you were told, getting off your knees and following him to the catch. He sat down and dragged you onto his lap, feeling his cock under you. He kissed you for a while, but you never got bored. You could’ve kissed him forever.

But you felt him twitching beneath you, begging to be inside. You positioned him to your opening and slid down gently, adjusting to his size. He moaned slightly, throwing his head back as he went in.

“Don’t move for a second…” he commanded, sitting up and taking your face. He was inside of you, not moving, just holding you.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he whispered, the scotch spilling from his breath. He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed your hips and began to rock you on him.

You let him move you for a few minutes before you started moving yourself. You felt the overwhelming rush of pleasure take over as you got close to cumming, speeding up your motions.

“Shit…” you squealed, riding out your high as he kissed your neck.

“Keep going… I wanna cum inside you…” He whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your jaw.

You kept grinding your hips, moving faster as he got closer. He gripped onto your hips, digging his nails into your skin as you felt him twitch. You felt him fill you up with warmth, claiming you as his in that moment. The ultimate trophy of male dominance.

You felt sick to your stomach after you got off, feeling him drip down your thighs as you rolled to the other side of the couch. The fun of the wine had worn off into an annoying headache, and you were dreadfully thirsty.

For some reason, you wondered if you had dreamed the whole thing, before you looked over and saw a naked Bucky, staring blissfully at you.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, kindly.

“Water.”

He smiled graciously, standing up and putting his boxers on. He walked down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen, and your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly grabbed your shoes and bag, bolting out the front door, unable to face him.

You were greeted by the fresh air, happy to be back in the realm of normalcy. And then you remembered. The gate.

“Fuck…” you exclaimed, dropping your shoes on the pavement.

“I’ll take you home.” You heard, seeing an uncomfortable Bucky standing in the doorway.

You got back in his car, staying uncomfortably silent as he started the engine and opened the gate.

“Do you regret it?” He asked. His voice snapped through the quiet like a whip. It made you jump.

“No. I don’t.” You answered. It was the truth.

“Good. We’ll talk soon, then.”

He dropped you off without another word, and you realized you never actually gave him your address.

Who the hell was James Barnes?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes

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mudhornchronicles · 3 years

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that cantina | din djarin

^ not my gif

pairing: din djarin x f!bartender reader

warnings: sexual themes and outfits, cursing, adult thots...

fic inspired by this post by @flightlessangelwings

a/n: this is my first time publishing on tumblr and writing about my beloved tin can. so pls bare with me. also pls enjoy the read + the little divider thing i just made and s/o to @jangohshit for the awesome url

masterlist

As she picks up her 50 owed credits and wipes away the watery rims on the streaky mahogany bar top left by a patron’s 6th glass of cold spotchka, she commends the Dug’s ability to walk out of the cantina without crashing onto the floor. Dugs may be small and slender, but Maker can they hold their liquor. With the amount of people in the stuffy, ill-lit cantina, she would expect the Dug to bump into something or someone in his alcohol-driven state.

Unfortunately for her, she did not get to see the amusing sight. Instead, she began to sense the sudden feeling of being watched. She discreetly scopes out the cantina and is immediately met with the intimidating figure and intense stare from a very familiar beskar helmet. She smirks over at the Mandalorian and give a slight nod to guide him over to her side of the risqué cantina.

This cantina in particular, located in the outskirts of Canto Bight, was known for the racy atmosphere once you stepped through the door. Many cantinas liked to keep it simple and vintage with a bar top, tables, and space to walk through. This specific cantina was not that. Whether you were looking to have a drink and observe the bartenders clad in lingerie or pay and party with ladies of the night, everyone knew this cantina as that cantina.

She met him about 3 cycles ago. He was looking for a Gungan gone rogue and his tracking fob led him to Canto Bight. When he had asked about the bounty to people in the city, they all told him that he’d find the bounty at that cantina. He began to get frustrated, but then he saw her. As she walked to work, she’d caught his eye. He walked over to her and she smiled at him. Mando had never had someone just smile at him, and Maker did her smile ignite something in him. She walked with him to the cantina with her walking in first and him following minutes later. When she caught his eye again, it was for a very different reason.

The worn leather bustier she wore emphasized her chest so much that Mando had to make sure his visor was not distorting the image in front of him. She wore a yellow and black plaid skirt and some heels whose laces wound up to her knee. He knew she was beautiful, but then he noticed the insincere smile she wore as she worked behind the bar. This job was supposed to be in and out – quick and simple. But meeting her made him want to let the bounty enjoy his 2,000 credits he just spent on a Pantoran lady. When he landed the first time, he told himself he’d never come back to that weird place. Yet, here he is again for what feels like the thousandth time.

She turns around to face the inside of the worn-down bar and adjusts her breasts in her obsidian-colored corset. She always wanted to look her best for her favorite client. She grabs a clean glass of water and turns back around to lean on the counter. All because she is the Mandalorian best view in the place, or at least that is what he's told her.

“Me'vaar ti gar,” he coldly says to her.

She looks into his visor with a stern look. “Naas.”

A lighthearted sound comes out the beskar helmet as he lightly taps the counter and takes a seat. “Kandosii!”

“Don’t know what that means, but what will it be today, Mando? Business or pleasure?” She winks at him while his visor is set on her face. She doesn’t know that the man behind the visor has been in cantina for an hour prior to his approach just looking at the woman he can’t seem to shake off.

“There has never been pleasure, mesh’la. Just business,” he calmly says. She shrugs and passes him the glass of water.

“Never hurts to ask, right? Maybe one day you’ll change your mind,” she says jokingly. “So, tell me. What bounty are you looking for now? I can’t confirm or deny that I have any information for you tonight, but there was a suspicious Twi'lek that came in about an hour ago. He’s on the other side of the bar.”

He looks towards the green Twi’lek and nods. He puts the glass aside and gives her a once over. “When did you get that corset? Last time I was here, you had a purple one. The one with the lace trimming and black ties in the back.” She smiles and looks down. He remembers, she thought.

“It started to get worn down so I sold it for 25 credits. Better than nothing, but do you like it? I just bought it with the credits you oh so greatly left me the last time.” She lightly taps his gloved hand resting on the counter. “What did you say when you left it? Think of it as a tip for your information and all I told you was that there was no Rodian,” she laughs. A modulated chuckle leaves his helmet as he looks at the other bartenders in the place. All in lingerie, more revealing than hers. Although she was wearing a corset, which covered most of her torso, her legs were very exposed. A sight Mando forcibly had to rip away from every time he was here. His mind wandered every time.

The thought of running his bare fingers along the bottom of her smooth legs to the top of her supple thighs.

The thought of how they’d feel wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to her as he fills her with the feelings he can’t verbally express to her yet.

The thought of her thighs pressing the sides of his head as he ea-

He is ripped out of the less than innocent daydream as she’s waving her hand in front of his visor. “Mandooooo. You in there?” His line of tinted vision focuses back onto her smiling face, the smile that haunts his dreams. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

She shakes her head and smirks. “I said if you need any information on a bounty! I have a client who wants me to join his little “get together” and is paying a good amount, so I don’t have much time.” She nudges her head up to a balcony set up in the cantina where other ladies are dancing for a group of Weequays.

He looks up and looks back at her. “How much ae they paying for you to waste your time with him?” She smirks and raises her eyebrow at the warrior in front of her.

“You jealous?”

“Jii, dala,” he warns.

She pouts and crosses her arms, which, in Mando’s eyes, only accentuates her chest. “No fair. You haven’t taught me that, yet.”

He sighs. He straightens up and leans a bit forward toward her. “Cyare, how much is he paying for you to go up there?”

She looks at his visor and feels as if she can look into the eyes of her beloved warrior. She looks back down at her hands. “3,000.”

“Dank farrik,” he whispers to himself. He looks down into his belt and counts the credits he currently has. A grand total of 1,400. He knows he can’t out-do 3,000 credits. He still must go out and get The Child and himself some supplies. They can’t survive on the old ration packs he had for emergency purposes.

Truthfully, she doesn’t want to go up there either. She was already given a new “uniform” by the Toydarian cantina owner for the night. A brown leather bra, black lace panties, black ripped stockings, and, weirdly enough, a pair of old brown boots. Weequays know nothing of fashion she thought to herself. As much as she knows Weequays can get touchy, she knows she can’t say no. She’s getting 1000 of those credits. A 33% share is a rare occurrence for Toydarians and she needs those credits if she wants to eat and have a roof over her head. She looks back at her Mandalorian and decides to lighten the mood.

“So do you like it or not?”

He turns and looks back at her. “Like what?”

She does a slow spin with the smile that can melt Hoth. “The outfit you bought me!”

“It’s nice,” he simply says, still not okay with her upcoming shift.

She abruptly stops and pouts. “Nice? I won’t be getting tips with a nice outfit, Mando. What if I unbutton the top buttons?” She goes to unbutton her corset and takes a step back when Mando suddenly grabs her hand to halt her actions.

“No.” He looks at her hand in his hand loosens his grip, but her hand remains in his. “I- I meant that you look nice in it. Not nice as in cute nice, but nice as in you look…” He stops speaking and looks at her. “You look… you look incredible. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like you at his arm.”

She feels almost giddy inside, as if her elementary school crush finally came up to say hello followed by her name. She looked at her hand in his as she felt a light blush form across her cheeks. “You really think so?”

Before he could answer, the aforementioned Toydarian cantina owner flies over to her all the while yelling her name. She immediately let go of her Mandalorian’s hand and acknowledges her boss. He begins yelling at her for not yet changing for her appointment with the Weequay group and she notices the beskar covered warrior tense. Mando stands and faces the Toydarian and begins to speak, but is cutoff by her.

“Don’t worry, boss. I was just wrapping up this client’s order. I’m going. You’ll get your 2000 credits.” She begins to push her boss away.

“You better make them happy. They’ve got loose pockets.” The Toydarian suddenly grabs her chin “If they say jump, you say how high. You got-“ She follows his gaze over to her Mandalorian, only to see him pointing a blaster at the Toydorian’s head.

“She’s going to do what she’s comfortable doing, you got that?”

Her boss chuckles and shakes his head at the bounty hunter. “She’s going to do what is going to make me money.”

She tries to interfere, but the bounty hunter grabs her boss by his face’s trunk. “Listen here, you oversized Kowakian. They aren’t going to touch her and she’s going to do her job. That’s it.” She tries to convince Mando to let the small creature go, but the warrior wasn’t done. “If I hear she was uncomfortable in even the slightest, it’s your trunk on my wall. Do you understand?” All she saw was her boss frantically nod in agreement and fly away as soon as Mando let go. She looks over at the Mandalorian she has grown to harbor deep feelings for.

“What the hell was that!”

He slides his blaster back into its holster and places some credits on the counter, more than what an untouched glass of water costs.

“You’re going to do your job and so am I. You see the biggest Weequay in the group?” she looks over and nods.

He activates the tracking puck, revealing that the Weequay leader was coincidentally his bounty. “Stars, Mando! If you are catching him, then why are you so worried about me going up there?” He looks over to her and shrugs.

“Why would I want you to be in that position?”

She smiles at him and lightly gives her own shrug. She checks the time and takes the still untouched glass of water. “Well Mando, it was nice to see you again. Should I expect you in the next couple of rotations?”

“Possibly.”

She lets out a small laugh and she takes the credits for the water, leaving the rest. Before he can protest, she catches him by surprise with her departing choice of words. “You know Mando, sometimes I think you might love me.” With that she laughs and waves a goodbye as she walks away to ready herself for the Weequays.

He watches her leave and his eyes direct themselves to her behind. Those small shorts that leave little to the imagination as they shape the swells of her ass beautifully. He is a man after all. He smiles to himself as he recalls her previous statement. He lets out a small chuckle as he stands to scope his bounty. “Yeah… might.”

mando’a translations:

Me'vaar ti gar [Meh-VAR tee-GAR] = How are you? (Lit. What’s new with you?)

Naas [nahs] = Good (Lit. Nothing)

per mandoa.org “Me'vaar ti gar = How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep. If a Mando asks you this, they expect an answer; it's literal.. The response for *I'm fine thanks,* is *Naas.* (Literally - nothing. )”

Kandosii! [Kan-DOH-see] = Nice one! Wicked! Well done!

Mesh’la [MAYSH`lah] = beautiful

Jii [gee] = Now

Dala [DAH-lah] = Woman

Cyare [SHAH-ray] = beloved

tags:

@flightlessangelwings @din-damn-djarin

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #that cantina #star wars

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nothing-fancy94 · 4 years

Photo

Soooo... You guys liked it, and asked for more, and so here I am with part 2 of my little Shadamy short, where our fav hogs have an unknown, shared past, which left one bitter and the other... well we haven’t found that out quite yet.

As always thanks to my support team, @mysuperlaserpiss @another-sonic-blog and @lonelysadblob my cove of palm trees that always inspire me.

I look forward to hearing what you all think of this next part :)

........................................

Lost Time - Part 2

Shadow smashed the door to the G.U.N. offices open with such a fury that a chill spread through the entire floor. He passed by the many cubicles lining the middle of the floor, ignoring the array of frightened and annoyed gazes. Being on the job for so long, and never failing at a mission had given him a corner office in the back, which he appreciated for its seclusion and privacy. So, on a day like today, he could simply lock himself inside with the blinds shut, and no one dared to bother him.

Just as he had finished shutting the last of his shades, he heard the click of his supposedly locked door as it opened. If possible, his mood darkened even more, for he knew only one person could pick his lock as though he'd left the key in the knob.

"Hey, hon! How's my favorite hedgie doing this morning?" Rouge the Bat announced as she sauntered into his office as though she owned it.

Shadow brought his hands to his forehead and made his way to his desk which sat in the far side and next to the large windows which looked out over the city. Once seated in his chair, he finally brought his attention back to bat who was wandering about his office and touching all of his books and decorations.

"What is it that you want, bat?" He asked, frustration dripping in his voice. He didn't want to deal with the other crazy female in his life, not after the shit he had gone through this morning.

Rouge sighed and dropped the generic bust of a head that had come with the office, back onto it's shelf. She made her way to the other side of his desk and plopped down into a chair. She sucked the right side of her lip, and looked at him with an almost nervous gaze. However, Rouge was rarely nervous, hesitant maybe, but her personality never let her dwell long on anything.

"Well..." She started, and sat back in her chair folding her arms, "I'm throwing a party tomorrow tonight... in celebration of an old friend returning home, and I thought you might want to come."

Shadow scoffed. It was almost hilarious, this situation. He'd never seen Rouge beat around the bush before, but he supposed that was to be expected when it came to the bombshell that was Amy Rose. He grunted and folded his arms as he looked her over,

"And what made you think that I would have even the slightest interest in going to one of your ridiculous parties. Besides it's most likely for someone I don't even know."

He almost laughed out loud at the guilt that appeared on her face. He had never known his oldest partner to feel guilty about anything, and she was the one who had stolen the Master Emerald before and almost caused the collapse of the human world with Dr. Eggman. This was certainly interesting. Amy sure had a way of bringing out sides of people that were never before seen. And not their good sides either.

Shadow rose from his chair and made his way around the desk. "Look, I was going to let you fumble around some more, since it's quite amusing to see you behave like this, but I have work to do. As I'm sure you do as well. Besides," He paused, as he leaned in close to her twitching face, "I know she's back in town. I saw her this morning."

Rouge could not hide the shock that ran through her body and laid to rest on her face. Shadow smirked and walked to the door of his office.

"Wha... What happened?" She asked as he opened the door and gestured for her to leave. He rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms.

"What do you think? She invited me to her inane party. Of course I'm not going. Nothing will make me go, not you and definitely not her."

Rouge sat for a minute, a look of pity on her face, before she got up to leave. He almost felt bad for the way he treated her, after all it wasn't her fault that Amy was a total witch. But as she was leaving, she paused, gave him a look, and said, "People deserve a second chance. Amy may not be perfect, but who is? Just come and hear her out... You'll regret it if you don't."

Without waiting for a response, she left.

................................................................................................................................

As usual, nothing of any importance or excitement happened to Shadow at work. And throughout the day he had done his best to avoid Rouge, which had been difficult since she was his partner, and was a stubborn bitch if he ever knew one. However, he’d been able to leave early after finishing all his paperwork, with the excuse of his broken bike. He headed to his favorite auto shop, all the while riding with extreme care so as not to lose more of his bike then he already had. Once he arrived he was greeted by one of the few Mobians he could tolerate, Jamie Steele, an orange hedgehog mechanic.

"Heya Shado–OH shit! What happened to Ruby?!" Jamie rushed over to the shambles of a bike that Shadow dragged behind him. Shadow rolled his eyes at the hedgehog's frantic examination of his prized possession. "Didn't I tell you not to call it that?"

Jamie stopped and stood up, his blue eyes playful, "You and I both know you like the name." Ignoring Shadow's glare, the orange hedgehog grabbed the bike, and pulled it into his private section of the garage.

As they walked towards the back room, Shadow glanced around at all the high end vehicles and imported machines. He was still amazed at what Jamie had managed to do in just the few years that he’d owned the shop. It used to be the worst in town, but now there was a waiting list for months, just to have Jamie take a glance at a machine. However, having a rare handmade motorcycle, made Shadow’s ‘Ruby’ Jamie’s favorite client. He never had to wait for an appointment.

"So, my friend, you gonna tell me what happened to my favorite girl?" The orange hedgehog’s voice came through the door, snapping Shadow’s attention from the main garage. Shadow made his way in after Jamie, and couldn't help but let loose a frustrated growl.

"Some shit from the past resurfaced in the most inconvenient way possible."

"Oh?" Jamie inquired, as he locked the wheels of the bike into place on a stand and took a closer look at the machine. "And this 'past,' she have a name?"

Shadow looked at him with such a bewildered expression, that it caused the orange hedgehog to laugh. Shadow’s eyes narrowed when he heard the laughter, and he scoffed,

"How'd you know I was talking about a person, let alone a female?"

Jamie shook his head and stood up with a grin, "Not much can make a prideful male like yourself unnerved. I figure it has to be one of two things, a girl or a visit from Chaos himself. And I highly doubt the later is making trips to see a grumpy guy like yourself."

He made his way to the back of the garage, enjoying the sour look of confirmation on Shadow's face and turned off the lights. "Come on, let's go get some drinks. I don't have any more appointments today, and your bike will need new, imported parts, that won't get here for at least a couple days. Besides, you look like you need some hard liquor."

......

Previous / Next

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #Rouge the Bat #Shadamy #OC #Jamie Steele #fanfiction #writing #romance #heartwarming

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

Reap The Rewards

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x reader

Genre: gym au / fluff

Warnings: talk of Wonho’s muscles lol (aka absolutely none)

A/N: Wrote this out of nowhere whilst on hiatus. Typically cliché and something I’m sure every Wonho fan would wish to happen to them too XD

I’m toying around with the idea of writing Monsta X with professions in the health sector. I already have an idea for Hyunwoo as a physiotherapist, but if you have any suggestions for the other members, feel free to let me know in a message or comment :)

Word count: 3512

Signing up for the gym hadn’t been all that hard. You knew you needed to get in shape since working from home meant you had too much access to your favourite chair, your other homely comforts and most importantly, your refrigerator and pantry.

Joining a gym, therefore, made a lot of sense. You would have a scheduled event to get out of your home office and move your body every day to prevent those cookies you had somehow misplaced whilst in the deep throes of your creations from becoming a staple visual around your hips. And whilst you didn’t have a huge social prerequisite to get by in life, well, making new friends whilst you were there didn’t seem like a bad idea either.

So the join up was logical. But that didn’t mean everything went according to your plan.

At first, you would turn up every morning, jump on to a cycle machine and start your cardio routine. You were familiar with gym equipment from a past attempt in fitness before your office job had gotten too hectic to continue attending one, and that meant you didn’t need any instruction on how to use the machines. You liked the independent nature of doing your own routine each day in the gym, and whilst you were satisfied with your efforts for turning up and doing a workout, you weren’t getting the results you wanted.

Perhaps you were still eating too much or maybe your body was rebelling against you.

You decided to take up the opportunity to see one of the gym’s trainers. After all, in your membership signup, you had been allocated a free session with one to see what programme would suit you best. It couldn’t hurt to get professional advice on how to exercise the best for your body shape and if you didn’t like their suggestions, you could continue to persevere with your own routine you had used for the past month and hope over subsequent weeks that changes would be more visual.

You knew you had a bit of a sweet tooth, but surely there could be a better balance in life for you.

Turning up for your session, you had been all smiles until you stepped into the trainer’s office. There were six trainers in total at your gym and admittedly when the office clerk had given you the option of who to see, you had just asked for the one who would help you the soonest. You weren’t impatient by nature yet you also didn’t want to change your mind whilst waiting to be slotted into a trainer’s busy schedule either.

Perhaps you should have been more carefree. Or paid attention to the name you had been given on your appointment card so you could have been more prepared. Because out of the six trainers, you had been assigned to the one who intimidated you the most.

“Hey Y/N, it’s nice to meet you!” he greeted with a friendly smile as you froze in the doorway, his smile only causing your heart to race faster than it did when you were on the cross-trainer. He outstretched his hand and by some miracle, you managed to grab onto it, though your palm was already sweaty. He shook it firmly – or perhaps it was a general handshake but your current resolve was too weak to handle it – and continued to smile enthusiastically at you. “My name is Hoseok and I hear you want to improve your lifestyle choices and exercise plan?”

You definitely wanted to improve in your current stupor, so blinking rapidly, you shot into the chair across from the small desk Hoseok had rounded and nodded just as fast. He chuckled and pulled up your file on the computer with a few clicks.

Whilst you sat there cursing yourself for signing up for a personal trainer.

It wasn’t the end of the world, Hoseok was talented at what he did. You had noticed him multiple times across the gym floor, helping sculpt the bodies of his clients with good results. But the only reason you knew this, was the same reason most of the women and even some of the male users of the gym also stopped and stared whenever Hoseok was in their area. The man was gorgeous from head to toe.

You had never been one for muscles, and the idea of you getting any of your own showing out from under the extra layers you carried around would be a bit of a miracle. However, Hoseok was something else. His body was the epitome of someone in good health. He obviously took an avid approach to ensure he exercised regularly, and when he wasn’t training someone else, he was often working on his own regime. Hoseok was the poster boy example of what taking fitness to another level looked like.

And now he was your trainer.

You gulped.

“It seems you’ve been doing really well to turn up regularly without any trainer plan in place so I applaud you for taking your health seriously enough,” he mentioned and you nodded again, trying to find your voice within your throat where it had gone into hiding. Hoseok pulled out a sheet of paper and picked up a pen, his gaze falling back to yours. Why was it suddenly hotter in this room? You had just reminded yourself that you were a capable woman who had quit her office job to become your own boss. You had the ability to work with anyone well under pressure and articulate yourself to ensure your thoughts were openly received.

Right now though? You were like a teenage girl with a crush on the cutest boy in school.

“What are your goals that you want to achieve here at the gym?”

You inwardly encouraged yourself to speak and cleared your throat. “I want to tone up.”

“That’s a good one,” he mentioned as you groaned inwardly at how obvious that had already been. Instead of making you feel ridiculous, Hoseok continued to assist you in coming up with more ideas towards your hopes from a tailored program. Somewhere along the way, you relaxed a little in his company, finally speaking more than four words at a time. However, you still weren’t quite used to the smiles that he kept shooting in your direction.

You were certain you wouldn’t even need to do any cardio today; your heart had been in the fat burning numbers since stepping into this office twenty minutes ago.

Hoseok looked over the notes he had jotted down and then looked back up at you, letting out a little sigh. “Well, I have all I need to know about what we need to work on but unfortunately now comes the part not many people like to do in the beginning. I need to take down your measurements.”

The minor relaxation you had been experiencing evaporated and you darted your focus to the scale over the other side of the wall. Hoseok was still talking to you and his tone was supportive, yet you were frozen to the chair. Of course, your trainer needed to know your starting weight and other measurements. It was how they helped you track your progress and would indicate what was working and what wasn’t.

But did Hoseok really need to know? You looked back at him and he chuckled. “I know, it’s not always a nice thing to know, but up you get. After this, we need to go out into the gym to look at a couple of exercises I’ve already thought of that will assist you.”

With trepidation, you got to your feet, slipped out of your shoes and stepped on the scales. You held your breath until he placed a hand on your shoulders which deflated you entirely. He laughed again but didn’t say anything, and as he took down the various numbers on the screen, you willed yourself to get a grip.

Just because your trainer was handsome, didn’t mean you had to act so apparent about it. You were certain Hoseok was used to being fawned over by a lot of women here at the gym and your response was probably no different. It irked you that you had lost the inability to remain decent around him already and propped yourself up, suddenly uncaring of how close Hoseok got as he wrapped the measuring tape around your waist.

Okay, so that was a lie. You did care. The smell of his aftershave was intoxicating but you wouldn’t allow yourself to fall feeble once again in his company today. You were here to improve yourself – mindset included.

And then Hoseok blushed lightly. “Here, would you be able to get the size of your bust for me? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable and I ask all my female clients to do this to remain appropriate at all times.”

You nodded and did as requested; even letting a small smile grace your lips at how endearing he appeared over this part in your measurements. He recovered faster than you had and soon he had you out in the gym trying out a couple of the exercises he had thought of.

“Well, you survived your session!” he joked, as he placed the clipboard he held under his arm and grinned at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow at nine, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, though you were unsure entirely. Today had been a lot to take in. As you waved him off and headed for the cubicles that held your personal belongings, you wondered if you should stop off in the office to cancel the training program that you had just agreed to. You couldn’t just exactly change trainers. Hoseok would take offence to that. But you weren’t confident that you could handle being trained by him either. Sure, you had been able to pull off everything he asked of you, there was something about the tone he used and the endless smiles and chuckles that got you through all of his requests. But you were hyperaware whenever he came too close to show you how to do something more effectively and you hated that you had flinched more than once when he touched you.

Not to mention, every time you looked up into the mirrors, what you saw reflecting back didn’t inspire you at all. It was a shallow conclusion, yes, especially when Hoseok had gone onto his next client before you left and she happened to be toned in every way that complimented the image you saw of them in the mirrors. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed in how you looked next to him.

And you only had two options on how to change that. Either give up working with him or tackle the challenge until you looked good next to him.

Slumping down behind the wheel of your car, you didn’t know what to do.

You did turn up at the gym the following day, even though you had spent most of the night lying awake trying to think of plausible excuses to get out of going. You had even punched in the gym’s phone number an hour before leaving your house to ring and cancel your entire membership. You could simply find another gym to exercise at. Or rely on your favourite sugary friends to support you in your times of need. Who were you trying to get fit for anyway? Sure, personal health was important. But it was only yourself who would look back at you each day in the mirror.

You stood before that mirror for a good ten minutes before you decided you were worth it. You wanted to see yourself look healthier.

Hoseok greeted you warmly with your brand new exercise plan in hand as soon as you stepped into the gym. And one session with him turned into six. You had gotten used to his helpful guiding touches and expert advice during every session and no longer did you turn up at the gym anxious to be in his company. He made you laugh and you surprised him back with your joking ways. Your relaxed manner around him now four weeks into your program with Hoseok showed when you jumped up on the scales in front of him without a care.

Okay, so again, you did care. Not so much about what the numbers meant to him, but what they meant to you.

You know, the way it should be.

“Way to go, Y/N!” Hoseok applauded as you grinned at being yet another five kilograms lighter. He raised his hand for a high five which you slapped generously. “You’ve done so well!”

“It’s a small step in the right direction,” you agreed and your trainer shook his head.

“No, this is a big step. Don’t think of it as small steps. Each time you get up on here and see your weight has dropped, you need to celebrate it. You worked hard for it!”

You were beaming for the rest of the day after that.

And when your eight week training programme came to an end, you were back in the office you had started out in, going through everything you had achieved over the past two months of active work and good nutrition. Sure, you still had the odd treat, but the cookies had been replaced with fruit and most days you didn’t even miss them.

Hoseok looked up at you and smiled. You frowned, today’s smile wasn’t as jubilant as usual and there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that you had rarely seen when you had surprised him too much or that one time he had asked for you to do your bust measurement. His reactions intrigued you and you leaned forward instinctively in your chair, as if getting a closer look would make you understand why he was turning timid suddenly.

“Well, congratulations on successfully making it to the end of this training programme, Y/N.”

“It’s not the end of my training though,” you assured, wondering if he believed this was the last time you’d work with him and that’s why he was being like he was. You already had plans to continue on with him as your full trainer.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” he agreed and you frowned.

“Why do I feel there is a but ready to come from your mouth?”

Hoseok shot you a wistful smile before slowly saying, “But.”

“But?” you repeated when nothing else followed.

“Can we stop saying but?” he asked with a chuckle and you grinned at him.

“You started it.”

“Technically it was you,” he retorted but sighed instead of continuing with his humour. “This ends our training journey together.”

Wait, what?

Hoseok was your trainer. He was here to train you. Well, you and many others. But he couldn’t just leave you now! You had a lot of goals to achieve and he had done so well at supporting you through them. How were you meant to go on in your fitness journey without him?

Maybe he had a new job. That was the only plausible reason he was saying he couldn’t train you anymore. You nodded firmly. “If you’re moving gyms I’ll just come with you as I like your-”

“I’m not leaving this gym, Y/N,” he interjected, raising his hands up to accompany his statement. He smiled at your now perplexed expression. “Though I’m honoured to hear you would leave this gym to follow me.”

“Saying it like that makes it sound like I idolise you or something,” you muttered with a blush and he shook his head.

“No, it sounded genuine. You want to succeed, I get it. I just… I can’t keep training you.”

“Is there some sort of rule where you have to cycle through all the trainers here so you learn different things from different approaches?” you wondered and Hoseok shook his head sadly. He started to fidget with the pen in his hand and retreated a little, only concerning you further. Had you done something? Maybe your train of thought before was right. You had admired him in the beginning too much for how he looked. But after getting to know the man on the inside as well, you didn’t really focus on his well-defined torso anymore.

Well, not as much anyway.

“Y/N, I don’t think it’s ethically right for me to train you anymore.”

“Ethically?”

He nodded, now embarrassed.

“I’m not following you, can’t you just tell me why without skirting around the issue? So I can understand why you-”

“I think I like you.”

You didn’t understand that at all. Stunned, you merely stared at the man across from you and Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I don’t think, I mean, I know. I like you. So I’ve decided it would be in your best interests to work out with someone else.”

“So you can stop liking me?” you asked, though you felt as if you were having an out of body experience and listening to yourself speak from a distance. The idea that Hoseok liked you felt as if you were dreaming. Had you just died on the treadmill and this was your parting fantasy before you moved onto the next realm in your existence? That would make more sense than this actually being a reality.

But when you pinched yourself, it truly hurt. And because you still didn’t believe in this, you pinched yourself again, letting out a small yelp.

Hoseok chuckled. “Did you really have to do that?”

“Can you blame me? Someone like you just said you liked me.”

“Someone like me? Please don’t tell me you’re like every other person in here who thinks of me as some muscle man who can be their trophy they sling over their arm too. I thought we had something more genuine.”

You rapidly shook your head and hands, your cheeks flooding with colour. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. Sure, you’re gorgeous and anyone can see that!”

Hoseok’s small smile only made you babble further to save yourself. “But I meant me. I’m not a match. Look at me, I’m all wobbly and definitely a work in progress and-”

“Beautiful. You’re beautiful,” he admitted and you snapped your mouth shut, swallowing back the rest of your sentence.

“No,” you eventually breathed, shaking your head softly. “I’m not really.”

“If you don’t see how much you’ve transformed over the last eight weeks and how beautiful you are each day in the mirror, then I’m worried about your mindset as a trainer.”

You went to respond and then shut your mouth instead. You didn’t know what to say.

“Not to say you weren’t always beautiful, Y/N. I was kind of nervous the first day you stepped in here.”

Glancing up at Hoseok then, you widened your eyes to see him blushing. “Wait, really?”

“Yes really. I was worried you would ring up the next day and cancel working with me because I giggled too much and acted really odd. Part of me was kind of hoping you would, though I was relieved when you did turn up. It meant you weren’t put off by me.”

If only he knew half of the turmoil you had gone through back then.

You blinked slowly, taking in everything he had said. You then glanced up at him. “So, you don’t want to train me any more because you like me and feel it’s unprofessional?”

He nodded once.

“And if you don’t train me, then you won’t have to like me anymore?”

Hoseok leaned back in his chair and then laughed heartily. “How on earth did you come to that conclusion?”

“Well, I just thought that you wanted to avoid those feelings so that’s why you’re letting me go as a client!”

“I was hoping that removing our client-trainer relationship could lead to something else.”

“Like a date?” you asked and Hoseok nodded, this time less certain.

“Like a date.”

“You want to date me?”

“Are we going to keep going around in circles?” he asked with another chuckle and you shook off your stupor. “I just don’t want others to think I’m giving you special treatment if I train you. And Miriam has a slot free for a client and is very good. Plus, she trains at the same time as I do, so when you’re finished with your session…”

“We could go have smoothies together from the gym cafe?” you concluded and Hoseok laughed. You pouted. “What, I always have wanted to do that after working out with you.”

“Really?” His face lit up and now Hoseok was the one leaning towards you. “You’ve thought of doing things with me too?”

“Don’t let it go to your head; you’re the one who admitted to liking me first.”

“But you like me back, right?”

You smiled, shrugging lightly and he gaped at you. “I’ll guess we’ll have to see how smoothies go before you can get a definite answer out of me.”

_________________

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317 notes · View notes

thedeevirus · 5 years

Note

JEALOUS EDWARD NYGMA

yallsothirstyfored said:Annoying things they do to get each other’s attention when they are busy or interested by something else and they crave for attention.

Enjoy!

Also added to Nygmobblepot Ficlets on AO3

***

‘Evening’.

Henry smiled widely. First rule of The Foxglove; Always be happy to see the customer. Or at least their wallet. In this case, Henry didn’t have to pretend. The man on the bed was dressed in a green suit with dark, chocolate brown eyes and one lean, long leg draped over the other. Far more attractive than the obese sixty five year old widow he had been ‘entertaining’ the night before.

‘Evening handsome’, Henry replied, walking towards his client, ‘What can I do for-‘

The door slammed behind him, making Henry jump. He swallowed hard as a large, waxen skinned figure loomed over him. Even as he began to sweat, he wondered how the pasty brute had hidden behind the door!

‘I-uh- I don’t usually see more than one cl-client’, Henry stammered.

The massive hulk advanced on him, causing Henry to fall backwards into an armchair. He pressed himself back as the monster (it didn’t feel right to refer to it as a ‘man’) glowered down at him with bloodshot eyes. A musky odour rose from its tattered black suit.He noticed the other man get up from the bed.

‘We’re just here to ask some questions’, the man said breezily, ‘But I suggest you answer quickly. “Else Grundy here will get cranky’.

Grundy moved around the armchair and placed both slab like hands on Henry’s shoulders. Henry cleared his throat.

‘Talk about what?’

‘Penguin’.

‘Penguins? Like the birds?’

The man in green leant in and even though he was smiling, Henry suddenly wasn’t sure Grundy was the one he should be most worried about.

‘Here’s a riddle for you. In the next five seconds there will be a dead man in this room if he keeps asking stupid questions. What is his name?’

‘H-Henry?’

‘The Henry that has Oswald Cobblepot aka ‘The Penguin’ as a regular client?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You don’t sound very sure’, the man smirked as he stepped back, ‘Jog his memory big guy’.

Ed grinned in relish as Grundy began to exert pressure on Henry’s shoulders. Having his own ‘hired goon’ was a rush he could get used to!

Grundy shook Henry gently. Ed had already warned Grundy not to get carried away until they had the information they wanted.‘Ah! I’m sure! I’m sure!’ Henry cried desperately, teeth clacking as he was lifted bodily out of the chair and slammed back down again and again.

‘You not Henry?’ Grundy demanded.

‘I’m Henry too! I’m Henry and I’m sure!’

Grundy looked at Ed. Ed nodded and Grundy stopped abruptly. As Henry shook his head dizzily, Grundy slowly released his grip. Henry flopped back into the chair. His eyes widened as Grundy placed both hands on the head of the armchair instead, at either side of Henry’s skull.

‘What do you wanna know?!’ Henry gasped.

‘When did Oswald first hire you?’

‘A few years ago’, Henry said, wincing as he hesitantly rubbed his shoulders, ‘When he was mayor’.

This surprised Ed. He had been in total control of Oswald’s schedule back then. Every moment had been accounted for and he had rarely left Oswald’s side. It was what had made him an exceptional Chief of Staff.The thought that Oswald had subverted his fool proof system by sneaking off behind his back irked Ed. Had he not trusted him to tell him where he was going?Ed shook his head annoyed. Why the Hell did it matter? It was ancient history. But ancient history was, by nature, full of mysteries and Ed couldn’t stand to leave this one unsolved.

‘Why?’

‘He said he wanted to tell someone how he felt about them and wanted to practice’.

Ed fidgeted with his gloves. Oswald had started coming to The Foxglove because of him?

‘You didn’t think that was strange?’ he asked.

Henry shrugged.

‘No. We get weird requests all the time here. He also wanted to practice kissing’.

Ed gave a bark of laughter. Bet Oswald thought that had been money well spent.

‘And what do you do for him now?’ Ed asked, feeling a bit better that Oswald had been the death of his own carefully planned machinations, ‘Please don’t include any intimate details. I’m not sure Grundy’s charming childlike innocence could handle the imagery’.

Henry chuckled politely at Ed’s joke. Grundy gave a low growl and he stopped.

‘Nothing really’, Henry said.

‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘It’s true!’ Henry said hastily, ‘I don’t need to leave out any details ‘cause we don’t do anything ‘intimate’’.

‘Then why does he come here?’ Ed demanded.

‘Sometimes he asks me to kiss him, hold him or massage his bad leg but we mostly just talk’.

‘About?’

‘Mostly about how he’s making the city better’.

‘I bet he talks about that a lot’, Ed said sourly.Oswald’s favourite subject had always been himself.

‘It’s actually really interesting!’ Henry said somewhat defensively, ‘Do you know crime’s dropped 85% since Oswald invented the licence thing?’

‘Of course I know!’Henry flinched at Ed’s harsh tone and Ed adjusted his glasses self-consciously.‘Continue’, Ed said, fingers drumming on a nearby table.

‘Honestly, it’s hard to keep track since we kinda talk about everything. Music, art, theatre, his mother…’

Henry trailed off, thinking.

‘He never mentions anyone else?’

‘He talks about an old friend called ‘Jim’ sometimes. Is that you?’

‘I’m the Riddler. I ask the questions here’.

Ed felt a flash of vindication as recognition materialised in Henry’s eyes. It felt good to see his reputation hadn’t been put on ice like he had been.

‘Sorry Mr Riddler’.

‘What does he say about Jim?’

‘That he wishes they were on the same side. I think Jim’s a cop though so that makes it kinda difficult for them to be friends’.

‘If you think Penguin knows what friendship means then you’re a moron’, Ed said darkly.

‘Maybe’, Henry said thoughtfully, ‘I know people call Oswald a monster but he’s always been a perfect gentleman with me. I think he’s a very lonely man’.

‘It sounds like you feel sorry for him’.

‘I just think it’s sad he needs to pay money just to have someone to talk to. He seemed a bit happier at our last appointment though so maybe he’s found someone?’

Ed felt his eye twitch involuntarily. Oswald? Find someone?!Henry’s familiarity was also bothering him. Since when did Oswald let rubes like this moron call him by his first name?!

‘So there’s nothing else between you and Oswald?’

‘Of course not. I’m a professional’.

Ed bit back a curse. The whole reason they had come to The Foxglove was to gather ammunition for Ed’s ultimate revenge against Oswald. One of Ed’s spies had told him the Penguin used the facilities weekly and had a ‘favourite’ host. Ed had overestimated Oswald’s attachment and cursed his impaired mental state. Yet another crime to lay at Oswald’s doorstep.

‘Well this is a bust’, Ed growled.

‘I’ll make sure you’re refunded for the session? if that’ll make things better?’

‘You actually think we’re paying for this?’

‘Guess not’.

‘You look glum for someone who’s still got all his limbs’, Ed said, heading for the door, ‘Say anything about this little visit to Oswald and Grundy might change his mind’.

‘Wait!’ Henry said suddenly.

‘What?!’ Ed snapped, hand on the doorknob.

‘If you’re really The Riddler, I have a message for you from Oswald’.

‘Wait, Oswald knew I was coming here?’ Ed asked.

Suddenly Ed saw an image of the new coat his usually shabby Narrows informant had been wearing when he had given him the information earlier that day. Bait at the end of Oswald’s hook. Ed gritted his teeth. He should have noticed that! The old him would have noticed that! The pleasant memory of the sudden recognition in Henry’s eyes also became bitter ashes. So, he only knew Ed’s name because Oswald had told him in anticipation of Ed following the trail. Not because Ed’s fame preceded him.

Ed numbly watched Henry pull on a green jacket and a derby hat along with some reading glasses, too furious at having fallen for Oswald’s bait to do anything else. Too nervous at what was coming next.

Henry spun on his heel dramatically and Ed’s eyes widened. It was like looking in a mirror and somehow more disquieting than the dread Ed usually felt looking at his actual reflection. With props identical to Ed’s own effects, the similarity was astonishing. Even Grundy could see the resemblance, judging from how his head was ponderously swivelling between he and Henry.

‘Riddle me this!’ Henry declared, striking a flamboyant pose as he read from a cue card, ’They say “If you love something let it go. But if it keeps coming back who does it belong to?”’

Ed was silent.The impression had been startlingly accurate.Oswald had obviously intended it as a cruel jab. A reflection of who Ed had once been. Who he should be. Forgotten glory that he would never experience again.Instead, inspiration had struck like lightning.Two could play at this game.But Ed preferred an audience.

‘I-uh don’t think you’re supposed to answer’, Henry said, turning the card over to show the blank opposite side, ‘There isn’t one on this’.

Ed shook his head, chuckling to himself.

‘No. I think I got the answer just fine. You wear this getup often?’

Henry’s eyes darted away and Ed’s eyes narrowed.

So, it seemed Henry hadn’t been entirely truthful about the ‘intimate’ details.Ed blinked hard to dispel and unwanted image of Oswald in a tuxedo, stroking a top hat suggestively.This had the strange side effect of conjuring another memory.Isabella.Was Oswald trying to replace his first love? Or was it just another subtle insult at Ed? Look Oswald can have a second chance too!If it was the former, it was ridiculous! What Ed and Isabella had had was special! It didn’t matter if Oswald had apparently known this Henry for longer! Ed and Isabella’s short courtship had been Oswald’s fault!But then, why did the thought of Oswald using Henry as a petty insult make him so angry instead of it being Oswald genuinely missing him?! Ed did not miss Oswald. He hated him! That was the whole reason they were here; to get ammunition!Ed’s thoughts were so frantic and mixed up that it took him a few minutes to notice Henry babbling placatingly.

‘L-like I said, whatever’s going on between you two, my relationship with Oswald is strictly business and um, if you like, I mean, you have booked me for the hour, we could have some fun of our own?’

Ed glared at Henry as Henry blithely continued digging his own grave.

‘We could make it even? So, you know, there’s no need for anyone to be…. jealous?’

Ed smiled poisonously.

‘There’s no need for you to be conscious’.

Grundy’s large fist descended, squashing Henry’s derby hat flat. He crumpled into an insensate heap on the floor.

Ed considered killing him but decided against it in the same instant. Killing him would surely signal to Oswald that his little pantomime had gotten under Ed’s skin. Ed grinned in relish as he pictured Oswald’s reaction to the little show he was forming in his own head. How delicious that Oswald had given him the idea! Even better was the thought that Oswald would figure that out.

Let Oswald have his dress up doll. Oswald hadn’t known Ed would come here. He had hoped. He was so obsessed with Ed it was pathetic!He’d never have the real thing. Not even if he came begging on his knees for forgiveness. Looking up at Ed with tears in his green eyes, grasping his jacket, pleading. The ‘King of Gotham’ on his knees. Had he ever been on his knees in front of Henry? Did he act out his fantasises in this very room?Longing and lusting for Ed. Desperate for his love. His attention.Ed felt his cheeks reddening and inhaled slowly.He noticed Grundy looking at him, brow furrowed in concern.

‘Ed okay?’

‘Best I’ve felt in days’, Ed said cheerily, pushing the worryingly erotic images to the back of his mind.

Grundy smiled, reassured that his friend was feeling better and jabbed a thick thumb behind him.

‘Window?’ Grundy suggested.

Ed stepped over Henry and glanced outside, surveying the alley below.

‘Good thinking buddy. Meet you outside’.

Ed headed for the door as Grundy prepared to relocate Henry’s unconscious body. He glanced back over his shoulder as he opened it.

‘Don’t try too hard to aim for the dumpster down there’, he said.

#nygmobblepot #nygmobblepot fanfic #Oswald Cobblepot #edward nygma #Solomon Grundy #Gotham

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

Text

Communication of Silence - Chapter 12 “Spi(c)es 2″

Summary: Virgil runs into Patton at therapy. Turns out Patton, Virgil and Picani all know one another.

Tags: therapy, panic, anxiety, grounding techniques, a lot of stress for Virgil, miscommunication, apologies, soft logan, supportive patton, coffee mention, skin picking, fidgeting

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 12,5 / 13 / 14 + Tumblr: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 12,5 / 13 / 14 +

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Story under the cut (Word count ~6k):

Virgil carefully stepped out of the room, legs a bit shaky and heart light.

Their mind was still trying to wrap around the that leaving this room was akin the world of hope and falling back into the pits of darkness. Knowledge a dagger in their hand to cut through every tendril of doubt and mishap that attempted to pull them into the abyss of despair once more.

Sometimes, talking was harder than they liked it to be but at least it was over. It equipped them with the right tools to figure themself out, to make life in the darkness better. At some point, they would find their light and banish every and all lingering piece of threatening shadows.

Admittedly, they did feel better. Their body was just shook from all the feelings and shit. Battling your demons was a chore but winning them over was a privilege of knowing how to. Sometimes trial and error was enough.

Sometimes, people needed to dip into the confidentiality of a professional to master the art of negotiating peace with oneself.

Stupid feelings.

Life was already hard enough.

Living with toxic thinking was unnecessarily exhaustive. It felt like an extra punishment after every hardship people went through.

From all they knew, it was worth it.

Going out, hands free and heart open was a blessing. Exploring the outside with an objective vision instead of spiking darkness at any corner of their mind.. it was.. it was a relief.

Work came with it, sure, but what in life didn't come without a price? Virgil had already decided that therapy was annoying. But it was annoying and absolutely worth it.

Ever time they stepped out of the care of their therapist, they knew their world was painted in new colours. Every time they opened their eyes to see new kindness and be surprised by a sudden brightness around them, they felt affirmed in their decision to stick with it and fight the battle of his own absurd thinking.

The student ran their hands through purple hair and sighed once more.

It was over.

It was helpful.

They had done all that had been asked from them.

Their shoulders were lighter and, as usual, life seemed a bit kinder than before.

On top of that...

A realisation nudged them and a smile appeared on their face.

Dee!

Within a split second, they already took their phone out and unlocked the screen with swift movements. Their eyes barely looked at the password as their fingers confirmed it and immediately clicked the messenger icon to contact Dee.

By now, she should be done with work. Or at least soon. They shot a quick message to her. Just to make sure she was informed.

*Conversation between Dee♥ and you.*

Today.

You, 3.51pm: Did your stupid therapy. Happy?

(sent)

“Oh, Virgil. What on earth are you doing here?”

A voice of genuine surprise banged against heir head and ripped them out of his comfortable thought bubble of being together with Dee by the next day.

For now, the dream was squished back onto the bench. With drops of disappointment souring their mind for the moment.

Instead, they were met with the rather neutral and beige office in which people were received for therapy.

Reality.

Before them, the familiar sigh of a certain walking hug made their spiking heartbeat calm down and refrain from thumping up their throat.

“P-patton?”, they asked in a small voice, their question coming out as a startled squeaking more than anything at this point.

They sounded unusually quiet and insecure compared to how Patton perceived them during the last days. It reminded him an odd amount of when they had met for the first time and Virgil had resembled a scared, abandoned kitten in the streets that was met with a stranger’s warm hands for the first time.

Virgil swallowed their dumb question away and shrugged the obvious answer into their conversation.

“I, u.. I could ask you the same. You came for an appointment?”

Patton chuckled and shook his head, his ginger candy strands of hair flying wildly and eventually nestling against his pale skin once more.

He looked like a little pastel prince of the kindness and forgiveness kingdom.

“Aw, no kiddo. I do not go to therapy, I am learning how to provide for other people. I am working with Dr. Picani for my master’s thesis. I only came by to drop something for him at the reception.”

As if on cue, the leading therapist in question stormed out of his office and waved at Patton. If Emile had been a life guard this would have meant the worst of all cases. But what did frantic waving stand for at the therapist's?

“Patton, wait a min-”

His outcry was interrupted as he finally made his way over to the two talking students. Apparently, his mind took a while to comprehend the view before him as well as the fact that he was still in the middle of a sentence.

“Oh Virgil, how come you are here today?”

The emphasis on the last word was the core of his question.

There was no wonder about them being there at all.

Virgil shuffled their shoes and looked down to be met with the sight of one green and one purple shoe. The green one had leaves and bamboo sticks drawn all over it in a darker shade of green - much like the forest's rich leaves during midsummer. The purple one had a little galaxy-like image on the inside of where their ankle should be. Rain showers of white suns and blue glimmers adorned the little piece of space.

They had drawn it on their own after dyeing their godforsaken, old-as-balls shoes. Kyle had inspired them to fix them up with some nifty drawings. Now they looked admirably special and were worth being desired greatly.

“Emergency session”, they said, shrugging, “I am all good, now. Promise, Em.”

They did not realise the slight frown weighing Patton’s candybrows down just the slightest bit. Within just a moment, the shadow of doubt was gone and he decided to take the lead of the conversation.

The confusion still left an imprint on the back of his mind. He had never heard anyone talk so intimately to Emile. It was not his business but a part of him wondered, how Virgil and Picani knew each other.

Curiosity was indeed a human vice.

But.. pet names like this were usually not exactly a therapy-client relationship.

Not his business, he reminded himself with waning patience.

“Anyway, what did you want from me? I can be right on my way and let you two catch up after you told me.”

Emile’s face lightened up in realisation and he revealed a rather familiar sports bag Virgil had seen on him before. It was Patton’s and he had seen him return from his night shifts with this.

Did he have another shift right now? All the more reason to consider Ri's offer.

“You forgot your bag when you dropped your scripts over here. Thank you for not being cranky about me being so busy - I was just on a call right now and couldn't delay it. ”

It was Virgil’s turn to move their face, one single eyebrow arching up for just a moment.

Emile evidently avoided looking at them as he spoke these words. That bastard totally hid something.

A call.. hmm.

Patton noticed the change with a little pat to his heart but he took a deep breath to shift his attention back to the topic at hand.

It wasn't his business, no matter how tempting and curious it seemed to be. If any of them wanted to talk, they would decide that. Not he.

“Ah, yes. Thank you so much. I was on the way home now. Virgil, do you want me to wait for you and take you with me?”

Oh holy fucking shit.

Virgil bit their lip and looked at the tallest of the three, an undefinable tension in their eyes. Not once before had Patton seen a look of trouble like that before. Not from the usually either shy and cautious kitten or the straight up fierce tiger that was the smaller punk.

“I-...”

Their mouth simply stood open and they blinked at Patton as if he had just asked them to choose between two of his dearest friends - one would be lost forever and never to be met or befriended again, while the other one was ensured to stay around by force of magic and the supernatural law of weird situations and horrible choices forced onto people.

No one would take a decision as that lightly.

The small student just shrugged but before they could even open their mouth to speak up again, Emile was audibly gasping.

“No way, you two are living together! This is amazing! I never knew! Look at you two making a great duo! I bet you are getting along so well!”

At once, a warmth settled on Patton’s face and his head moved to a nod while Virgil shrugged and stole a single glance at the giant.

Their cheeks grew warm and redder.

“Guess‘s not so bad”

Virgil grimaced but the soft laugh from Patton and affirming “you are lovely to cook with”, let their lips move from awkward grin to a genuine, lop-sided smile.

The doctor in pastel pink and beige brown was producing an air of warmth.

“I am sure you are a team, better than Jessie and James!"

Patton gave the comment a little chuckle and Virgil shook their head yet a smile was still visible on their face.

They would never be able to deny just how much they relished in the simplicity of these jokes making any situation less awkward. If it was not for any other person, Virgil knew that the ginger giant from candyland was definitely the person at fault for them enjoying stupid puns so much.

He just strategically used them so well in any situation. It was like the right tool to disarm any bomb about to explode and he did it without breaking a sweat.

Emile was just silly - a little less cunning and definitely more upfront about negative vibes.

Maybe it was because he was older and knew to address certain issues. Perhaps Patton just wanted to keep peace?

They were overthinking.

They had to stop.

Now.

Before Virgil could go on a mental rant to yell at themself for still ruminating over it and possibly kicking themself into disliking Patton, an all-too familiar sound came up. The sound that appeared whenever “Law and Order” switched between scenes or skipped time or anything.

Virgil jolted a bit but reacted fast.

“Holy snowflake, this was sudden”, Patton exclaimed with little breath left in his lungs and an assuring hand over his heart to calm his nerves.

The sound had been quite loud and he felt like he had heart it before.

All the while, a grin was spread all over Virgil’s face and the awkward student forgot about their thoughts and worries for a bit. Even the current situation and conundrum seemed to have disappeared.

They typed away fast, a little mumble escaping their curved lips without them noticing.

*Conversation between Dee♥ and you.*

Today.

You, 3.51pm: Did your stupid therapy. Happy?

(sent)

Dee♥, 4.00 pm: I am killing it and I sincerely hope you did too. *snake emoji* *smirk emoji*

Dee♥, 4.00 pm: Anyway, how are you holding up darling? Did the cartoon enthusiast catch you in time?

You, 4.00 pm: Next to him.

You, 4.01 pm: Patton is here. Fucking kill me.

You, 4.01 pm: He asked to bring me home but I thought about going to Ri. Em could easily take me.

(sent)

The response was a quick “yikes” but his attention was drawn back into the conversation before they got to message back.

The phone was rattling with another sudden sound but Virgil took the second flinch from Patton and turned off the sound.

“Sorry”

Emile shook his head quickly, a little smile painting his patient features and Virgil felt already hugged and pleasantly scolded like from a caring parent.

It was an odd feeling.

“Remember to not apologise for yourself. You had your reasons to reply. I hope she is doing well - I assume it is the loyal Sapphire to your own Ruby self.”

Patton’s spirits returned. His freckled face was beaming and he quickly hugged his bag against himself.

“Aw, how adorable! I never thought of you in this way! Emile, how dare you give me this gem of feelings”

He winked and Emile winked back.

OOF.

Virgil’s groan could be heard in the far distance of edgy teenager land while the adults were giggling at one another like little schoolgirls. It was oddly adorable.

Seeing Patton laughing was another level of comforting.

“Uh, yeah.. talking about gem and shit”

Wow, what a horrible start Virgil - wait. No. It was an okay start. Just a start. They would not mind and if they did, who cared. It was just a st- just a sentence.

Yeah.

“I might get my gem ass over to Ri and sleepover because, uh, yeah. I think he would be happy to have me around tonight.”

Virgil looked down at their shoes and shrugged. A part of their mind was still wildly roaring and telling them that this was a horrible sentence and how Patton would hate them now and despise them for everything.

And Emile? Maybe he would be jealous or get upset at them upsetting Patt-

No. No

Stupid thoughts.

Bullshit thoughts.

They went to therapy to not have any of these thoughts anymore.

It was bullshit, anxiety was just being some overdramatic shit and it was a help to nobody so it was time to fucking stop the fuck now.

They shrugged again and looked to the side before back at Patton.

“Sor- I mean.. thank, uh.. thanks for offering a ride but I think I will go to my family and make sure they know I am okay and shit. I uh... they worry, you know.”

Virgil offered a little smile. The pang of guilt jotted into their mouth and made it harder to smile but the lips stayed into position despite their little trembles and struggles to stay still.

With a the eyes of a man who mirrored Virgil, Patton nodded at the remark.

“I am glad to hear they care about you and.. and that you care about them, kiddo. I am sure they will be happy to have you around”, he started and stopped for a moment, his lips rolling together and his tongue parting them as if to spread the taste of his upcoming words on them.

He was contemplating about whether or not he should let them go beyond his tongue.

After a small pause, the decision was made.

“You don’t have to be scared of being with us. I am happy to see you and I honestly think Logan couldn’t be happier but to have found a friend like you.”

Virgil looked at him, wide-eyed.

Shock short-circuited their brain and ruled over their reason for long enough to override the anxious filter that would usually prevent words like that to pass his lips.

“You- you mean you are notmadwearefriends?”

The emo stepped closer to Emile and reached out for him, only to be gladly received by his welcoming chest and arms.

Patton blinked back, pressing his tongue against his gums to swallow his amusement at how absurd the other sounded. It was much better than to succumb to the bitter after-taste of an idea about why the other was so concerned. Instead, he helped himself and his smaller friend to the truce of another peaceful smile.

A smile so outwardly kind and warming, it could only come from a giant that served unexpected kindness instead of crushing dreams and bones.

“Virgil, kiddo, we are friends too. I would never get upset at you over something so silly. I want my friends to be happy and you and Logan are happy together, even if you don’t always fully agree with one another.”

The last part smelled like Logan talking about last night but Virgil stopped themself from boarding the panic train.

Patton wanted them to know it was okay. He was not mad.

They were friends.

Virgil carefully squeezed their arms around Emile for a bit longer. It was almost as if they tried reassuring someone else in order to make convince themself.

Projection, as Emile would call it.

...Actually, Patton would say the same.

Psychology nerds everywhere.

There were also feelings everywhere. They were like bubbles filled with different-coloured things that were fizzy or sizzling or gas-like and so on. Somehow, all these bubbles around Virgil did not feel pressing anymore. They squeezed them in a bit but it was cozy, in a weird way. Warmth and pink was around them.

It was innocent and .. trustworthy.

For once, there were no red flags. Wind glided over the pastel coloured banners of a relationship so novel and refreshing to Virgil.

It was still difficult to see and process.

Maybe one day, they would see these banners and identify them as a welcoming sign of hospitality and open arms. New ones but still arms stretched out to happily receive them.

“thanks...”

They slowly blinked at Patton who returned the little gesture with another soft rise of his lips’ corners.

Emile gently shielded the smaller person and mumbled something to which Virgil nodded again.

Patton accepted being the outside with silent patience like a good professional.

The punk softly rubbed their eyes. Only now, the ginger giant noticed how swollen and reddish they seemed again.

It reminded him of just they day before when they ate together.

He squinted ever so slightly, his eyes focusing on the little detail and eating it up with the information-hungry mind.

His thoughts wanted answers and every bit of piety seemed to feel heavy on Patton’s large form when.

These large bags of darkness under their eyes seemed to hide more than several hours of missing sleep a night. It was nothing new to Patton to consider but it was then, that he realised how tangible the issue was yet how far away at the same time.

“Uh-ehem”

Virgil cleared heir throat and straightened their posture.

“We are pretty much just barricading my therapist, you know”, they remarked with a slightest hint of a backbone in their words once more..

The silver tongue was back and it was sharp and sturdy as always. The sound immediately prompted Emile to react and lead them over to a corner. A heavy weapon in any battle of wits was back in place and ready to strike. Slowly, it sneaked back into the conversation and even the little smirk was blowing itself onto Virgil’s lips.

Lopsided, subtle and feisty.

It really was inappropriate to just stand in the middle of the way. What were the three thinking?

“Uhh.. Anyway, I think I will.. uh.. hitch a hike with you, Em - if that is okay”, they started and shrugged the slight slouch off their shoulders with a deep breath.

At once, the hesitation and doubt seemed banished from the conversation. Virgil looked tall and proud as never before.

Honestly, the ginger student felt surprised by the sudden change.

He would never cease to be surprised by them.

“Aw, sure thing, Virgil! You know, you always have a place by my side if you let me drive...”

Virgil’s eyes widened and Patton felt something tickle him like when your nose tickled before a sneeze. He sensed something.. something good being about to happen.

“..my van into your heart”, Emile finished.

The emo groaned loudly, immediately followed by a loud chuckle from them. Their shoulders slouched a bit and they curled into themself a bit.

“How about you drive yourself back into your work and I am gonna go and get some coffee for bribe”, they offered, “Patton, you coming?”

The two got together and walked to the closest café in comfortable silence. Every now and then Virgil glanced at their phone, fidgeting around and looking more and more before putting it away for a while to repeat the cycle.

Cars rolled down the cold streets and every breath evaporated into small clouds of fog. A few stray pigeons flew away when the dyad closed in on them in their curious search for anything edible.

The sun was already setting and bathing the city in a few rays of warm light. Orange and pink painted the scene but only in the rare areas the bigger buildings could not reach to block the light from.

Virgil’s heavy boots hit the ground with every step while Patton’s own mode of walking mimicked graceful dancing. He was nearly hopping and floating over the dark concrete in the light of dawn. It was a show of beauty to see him.

The two got a cup holder equipped with several cups of coffees and other hot drinks. They walked back but this time, the silence was swallowed by Virgil’s itching concerns. Their fidgeting got more intense and their fingers started picking at one another so much, the punk felt the plead to ask Patton for assistance on their tongue.

It was difficult, near impossible to erratically scratch and pick at something occupied by the deed to hold the cup holder with multiple scalding drinks.

They gave up on the nervous endeavour of deliberate self-harm when they realised the urge to just do it so intensely they would require support of some sort, they became aware of what exactly they were doing.

This had to end.

Despite their fingers tingling to scrape and pick and rip more, they refused to give in. They stopped before the building they had just come out of, Virgil cutting before their friend.

A jumbled bunch of letters flew from their lips in an oddly shushed mumble.

“P-Patt’n?”

They shuffled their feet a bit, looking down at them. If Patton had to draw Virgil, he would draw them in this position: shoulders slouching, gaze averted and skin vibrating in some vigilance of a distance threat.

It justified the name and behaviour Virgil usually displayed.

As they stood there, shifted from one leg to the other, boots squeaking as they were moved and squished together every now and then, Patton got the familiar urge to hug them while Virgil felt the intense wanton to throw themself into his arms. After all, the ginger giant was still a walking “hug me” sign, a fluffy one on top of that.

“Yes, Virgil?”

Patton’s voice was as light as a snowflake as he spoke with the world’s depot of patience in his little response.

It was a verbal touch to Virgil’s curiously fingers. They had taken to tightly grip onto the grey cup holder with one hand on left and right each. Busy thumbs brushed over the rough material and rubbed against it as if to dig for a treasure that did not exist.

“I.. d-do.. do you think, um..”, they started but broke off, lost eyes roaming over the dark concrete. The darkness started creeping into the day and establish the night’s dominance for a few more hours than usual.

“Do you think.. L-Logan is.. is mad at me?”

Glass green eyes grew wide as a pool of darkness shrunk in horror.

“Oh, honey - Virgil! Logan would never!”

He kept himself from saying more, swallowed the indignation. It was time to be composed and be a good friend and not get upset over something irrational. This was Virgil’s anxiety speaking, not their trust or rational mind, it was pure hurt and bad past experience poisoning a good relationship.

“Listen, Logan and I are best friends and he has not once in his life complained about you, not to me, and he tells me everything. He trusts you and you are good for him. He is changing for the better and becoming more open and warm with you around, Virgil, I am not just saying this to make you happy. It really is happening. If he was upset, I am sure he would have asked me for advice or told me something and he did none of that. He asked me how to help you become more comfortable with us without pushing you - really.”

Patton shifted and started to dig into his pocket to pull out a phone and present the referred to chat logs.

Warm brown eyes tentatively glanced over the messages for signal words, for red flags or similar things to warrant as an evidence for their anxiety to prove its point but there was none.

Black on weird whatever colour they were too blown-away to name at this moment showed how wrong their thinking had been once again. Just a stupid anxiety thing again, not even remotely warranted at all.

“Th...thanks”

They pursed their lips up as if to continue but hesitated enough to just go with the flow of not speaking any further, leaving the word awkwardly hang between Patton and him. Bottle green eyes blinked at them, smiling like an encouraging elementary teacher trying to cheer up a child whose drawing had been referred to as “dumb” by some uncultured swines - uh... other children with a bit more hostility.

“I, um..”, they picked up again, eyes casting downwards bnefore blinking and glancing up at him again, “I needed that. Thanks. It is just, um.. stupid anxiety brain and all.. it just makes me dumb again, or like.. I mean, I uh.. I am not dumb or anything but I just believe the dumb anxiety and that sucks but, like, whatever, right? Can’t deny he is, um, like.. I don’t know, .. not hating me or whatever.”

They clawed at the cup holder.

“Patton, j-”

A sudden g-note hit the air, punching a conditioned smile of fight and solidarity into Virgil’s face.

“PA-PattoN, it is-is him! Ah - um”

Confused jumbles of words pushed through their lips.

No sense was made in the process of this reaction.

The ginger did not understand but he readily perked up in interested, nodding.

“It is okay, it is okay. You are safe and he is probably just curious whether you are okay. Breathe in, take a really deep breath - “

Virgil nodded obediently. Their fingers clung to the rough cup holder. The emo’s chest rose a substantial amount before standing still while Patton counted and nodded with nice smiles. They slowly exhaled after a “seven!” and clear nod.

“Give me the cups and take the call, kiddo. I will go and tell Emile you will be ready after the phone call.”

Hasty eyes met him which he returned with a patient nod not even the ideal monk could have provided. Virgil slowly let go of the rough texture, Patton’s gentle tugs reminding them of letting go. Fingers gradually untangled from the cloud-grey piece of recycled trash and forced a tentative nodding movement onto their head.

They could do that. They could do that.

“Welcome to the Black Parade” was still playing and the song was nearly over. They had to take it!

This novel thought struck his mind like actual thunder. At once, fingers dug into their pockets and picked up even before their ear was close enough.

Virgil did not know how Patton knew the song was the personalised ringtone for Logan but they appreciated how exceptionally witty the harmless pastel hulk was. A flick of their wrist goodbye’d Patton while their other hand reached their thirsty ear.

“Hh-heyh!”

Awfuckfuck, no he fucked up - no, they did! Now they fucked up hard enough to even fuck up their own pronouns. What a trash-

“Greetings, Virgil. I hope you are well.”

Ah. Smooth. Calm.

Logan was the epitome of steadiness.

The composed expression and usual greeting gave Virgil a sense of control. They knew what was about to come: small-talk because Logan thought it helped in social relationships, then some talk about work to elaborate on the things they had in common and eventually a random fact he learned that day or something equally surprising and possibly useless. At least it was something that least them unknown as to what to do with the information but it was not bad at all.

To be honest, they looked forward to it. So much even, their anxiety could not influence the smile of relief taking over their rosy lips.

“Totally. What about you? Work sucked ass today?”

“Virgil, work cannot actively do anything, especially not engage in any deed as interactive as acts of adult intimacy -”

“Wow there, pocket protector. Too early a day to give me so many fancy things to listen to. Anyway, how are you doing?”

Their lips were curled up completely by now. It was a full smile, if not already a grin preparing for the obligatory hilarious thing about to happen. Like it was some kind of scripted exchange between them.

With Logan being included, maybe it was.

“I am doing just fine, only wondering about your well-being. Did you get a sufficient quantity and quality of sleep last night?”

Oh. Right to the point. But speaking of it...

“I, uh.. I am sorry. I - I was being a butt, um..”

Virgil touched their clothed elbow of the arm holding the phone. Their fingers scraped and tugged at the fabric. Brushing, pulling, picking. The soothing feeling of a warm jacket covering them and protecting him was barely enough.

4 - 7 - 8, they reminded themself.

A nod.

Yes, do the breathing thing and focus on Logan.

“I am surprised to hear you apologise, Virgil. To be frank, I neither expected nor wanted an apology for overstepping any boundaries. If you are uncomfortable with me asking too many questions, you are more than welcome to “tell me off”.”

A short break.

Insecure breaths in.

Four seconds.

“Is this the right use of this term? I suppose, so. You are also welcome to correct me, if need be. You should know this but I am willing to remind you of my consistency. However, back to the topic.”

Shaky holding back of nervous oxygen. Seven seconds.

“I am not upset with you at all. Rather, I would say I am... concerned. When I started talking about this subject, my primary objective was to work out your issues in order to help you feel more comfortable. I got the .. the feeling you might need more, um, emotional support, if I may say so.”

Painfully slow release of revolting oxygen for eight seconds.

The voice on the other side became more uncoordinated, shooting past any aim. Logan cleared his throat to fill the silence as Virgil silently breathed themself into a greater sense of stability and safety.

“Apologies. I started rambling again and even brought up these uncomfortable topics. All I wanted to convey is that I have a, so to speak, liiiht proposal to make to you. That being said, I might add this proposal does not include any rings or marriage-related preparation rituals. I am just saying this for clarification, not because I suspect you might assume this. I - ... Virgil, are you still there? Am I “talking your ears off”, as Roman says?”

The small punk heard an odd sound from Logan’s side of the line. They blinked at it, a few wrinkles falling into his skin as he frowned in confusion.

“Uh, hey, chill, dude”, their dark voice replied, “I, er, I am fine and all and you don’t have to do anything for me, anyway. It is cool, cool. Really cool. I, um, told you I won’t be home tonight? I have this thing going on, was planned before and all.”

Virgil shrugged into the air for nobody else but uninvolved strangers to see.

“But, um, don’t worry. I am, like, not mad or anything. I am.. glad? Like, I know I was being a bitch but that does not matter. I.. we are both sorry and that is really cool and.. just, ..just re-really thanks for being so nice about that and respect me and this. I just don’t wanna fuck up things and I know I am being sensitive and all. Uh, yeah..”

They scratched the back of their head.

“Any-”

Virgil started at the same time as Logan’s voice pronouncing “So, -” was transmitted to his side of the call.

The punk chuckled silently. A mere moment later, a sigh of relief could be heard. Virgil could have sworn even his hear was sighing with Logan.

“You go first, Log.”

If anyone had been around to see Logan at the bus stop, they would have witnessed a certain sparkling sensation behind his serious glasses as he made out the nickname Virgil added.

“Thank you, Virgil, I appreciate that - appreciate you.”

The words felt so much heavier than they should have been. They were voluminous gem stones on their chest. Prominent and eye-catching whilst sparkling and somewhat enticing with richness and depth of colour.

On the inside, Virgil knew they would wear Logan’s feelings on their chest, face or simply in their heart if the other would just ask them to.

“Do you want to watch the stars with me? Tonight, I mean - say two hours, perhaps. It would just be you and me. I will take the car and get you if need be. Our university’s Astrology Club has a big telescope and great WiFi. I thought you might be interested but if you are pre-occupied, I understand.”

Virgil absorbed the information, inhaling the connection and heartfelt consideration Logan has put into the consideration.

“I-.. Logan, do- do you mean this as, uh.. as a date? Cuz, like, I don’t know if you do but it is cool if you do and I am not pissed or something, just want to know.”

Another odd sound could be heard from the other side but Virgil was too caught up in anticipation to question the nature of the sound or the vibration in Logan’s breath suddenly hitting the microphone.

“If this does not disrupt whatever your nature of relationship you enjoy with Declyn, then I would love to call it a date. With your consent only, of course.”

Virgil’s heart did a leap. They drew in a hasty potion of oxygen as if to drink it up like the tasty juice of love.

“I would love to. Text me the details, I will see about the car thing.”

They hung up and ran up to Emile, taking two steps at a time. Now they had a certain skip to their steps but they also had a certain beat in their heart when they hitched a hike to their sibling in enthusiastic anticipation.

Maybe this day could be great after all.

#sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #emile sanders #ts emile #emile pacani #Emile Picani #logan sanders #ts logan #ts analogical #FINALLYhiwkjdflrg #joey writes #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #ts patton

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lucidpantone · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: Visitations

Someone recently asked the tag if Sander and Robbe stayed together forever. Here’s a fic giving you the answer. Thanks for the inspiration.

Read the rest on Ao3.

Autumn always brought along rich tones of vanilla, cinnamon and all-spice into Robbe’s landscape. Robbe loved the autumn colors, shades of sun-burnt orange, vermillion and chartreuse sprinkle across the leaves that littered the pavement on his route to work. Its like he could taste the change of seasons ahead but it also gave him cause for concern. A visitation session was surely on the horizon. Sander was like a rolex watch when it came to anything Bowie related. Robbe was sure that cat was the love of Sander’s life. He found Bowie abandoned on the streets of Antwerp as a kitten and saved him from certain death. Robbe can still recall the day he came through the door with something nuzzled inside his leather jacket.

“Sander, we can’t keep it.” Robbe retorted as Sander gently cradled the kitty against his chest rocking it back and forth. “We just got this apartment I don’t even know if were allowed pets. I’m slammed at university, your never here, and your always at work or at the studio”.

Robbe knew this discussion was pointless. Sander just kept pouting at all of Robbe’s logical reasoning, flashing his puppy dog eyes at him and holding up the tiny kitten to Robbe’s face as a defense. Robbe just rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat.

“Ugh… okay …. Fine. God I hate you sometimes Driesen.”

“Love you too” Sander replied, pressing a soft kiss on Robbe’s jawline with a victorious smile plastered across his face.

“So, what are we going to name it?” Robbe asked looking down at the tiny creature who was literally the size of Sander’s palm.

Sander frowned. He almost looked offended by Robbe’s question.

“Bowie, of course. I mean his all black with a white lightening bolt on his belly. He's obviously a Bowie.”

Robbe found Sander’s response endearing. So much so he didn’t have the heart to tell him that that white striped looked nothing like a lightning bolt but he went with it anyways.

“Bowie, it is.” Robbe said as he leaned into Sander’s chest to pet the tiny kitten. Sander immediately cautioning him before he even laid a hand on the cat.

“Go slow, his sensitive okay”. Robbe couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend’s protective reflexes.

There it was. The text Robbe had been dreading since the animal clinic called him earlier in the week to confirm Bowie’s appointment.

Taking Bowie to the vet on Saturday. I should get to Brussels around 7 tonight. Does that work for you? - Sander

7 works. - Robbe

Robbe grunted and slid down his desk chair.

“What’s up with you?” Lia asked.

“Oh nothing” Robbe quickly perked up and sat up on his chair. He didn’t want to be caught sulking at work.

“Do you think you can have the club estimation ready for next Wednesday?” Lia asked.

Robbe was the youngest architect at his firm. So he always felt like he was slightly faking it or suffering from imposter syndrome. He had only just completed his certification and was lucky enough that the firm he apprenticed at for two years offered him a full time job upon graduation.

Lia was the second youngest she had graduated a year earlier. They spent a lot of time together dealing with all the young trendy clients who wanted to do renovations on shoestring budgets.

“What time is it?” Lia asked Robbe.

“Half past 5” Robbe shouted back.

“On a Friday” Lia scoffed. “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink after this week.”

Robbe nodded his head towards the door and both of them sprung up off their chairs collecting their paperwork and turning off their computers.

Robbe began to take off his shirt and tie exposing his black tshirt underneath. He hated his nine to five attire but the firm had a strict dress code policy. Shirt and trousers.

“I hate this tie” Robbe grunted loudly as he forcefully ripped it off himself.

“Well you wouldn’t have to wear it if you weren’t so damn cool” Lia teased him.

“Firstly Thibaut is over exaggerating they are not neck tattoos. You can barely see them.” Robbe dramatically threw his hands up.

“I mean you can totally see them…..what are they again?” Lia asked sarcastically.

“Shut up” Robbe started pushing Lia towards the door.

Grabbing his black jacket and man bag off the coat rack on the other side of the office practically skipping towards Lia who was leaning against the door frame waiting for Robbe to hurry up.

As he got to her she held her hand against his chest examining the three tiny icons placed directly at the bottom of his throat underneath his adams apple.

“A lightning bolt, a half moon and….”

Robbe finished her sentence for her “ The other half of a ying yang. The white half.”

“How hipster of you” Lia said curiously.

“I guess, or better yet the mistakes of a misspent youth.” Robbe smugly replied.

“Misspent youth???” Lia laughed out. “Robbe your only twenty five”.

Robbe rolled his eyes he felt like he was thirty five sometimes. “Almost twenty six for your information. Come on now, I need a beer” he grabbed onto Lia’s hand and started dragging her out the door.

“We aren’t going to Belgica?” Lia shouted back to him as they walked down the street.

“Why not?” Robbed asked confused.

“Because your too pretty for your own good Robbe and we spend half the night fighting off every gay boy in there trying to get your attention.”

“Stop it Lia.”

“It’s true Robbe. You got that whole rebel rebel graduated up skater boy vibe and that damn mop of hair. Your like a billboard for shampoo or something. Plus your single.”

Robbe was blushing. Lia was too sweet she always made him feel special in her own teasing way. She was like the big sister he never had.

“Ok you choose” Robbe surrender.

“Noir it is” Lia responded.

Robbe looked at his phone and checked the time 5:42.

Robbe liked Lia but he didn’t want her privy to his messy love life. She had already lived through Robbe and Lucas’s break up.

Did she really need to know anymore about him.

Robbe paused for a moment and thought fuck it.

Meet me at Bar Noir at 7. -Robbe

********************************************************************************

As Robbe reached over the sink to grab some paper towels he simultaneously ran his right hand through his hair and looked up into the mirror. His eyes inadvertently darted towards the text peeking out underneath the sleeve of his tshirt. He inhaled sharply vividly recalling the memory of his nineteen year self play fighting with Sander because he wanted to see it.

“Show me,I know you got another one” Sander walked around his boyfriend inspecting Robbe’s body contemplating which part of him to undress first. As he slowly began tugging at his hoodie a huge cheshire grin appeared across Robbe’s face.

“Got him” Sander thought. He finally managed to get Robbe’s hoodie off when he saw the cling film wrapped around Robbe’s right bicep. Sander grabbed Robbe’s right wrist turning it upwards to face him and lifting it slightly to uncover the text on Robbe’s inner arm. It was a simple three word phrase but it was “their” phrase and what Robbe repeated to Sander when things got overwhelming for him. In a slightly hushed voice Sander read the phrase out loud “minuut per minuut”.

Robbe broke out of his daze. Pulling himself out of the memory.

Robbe headed back out the bathroom into the boisterous Friday night afterwork bar crowd.

Another shot of whiskey? Lia shouted from the bar.

“No,no” Robbe was signaling to her. He wanted to make sure he was somewhat sober for his impending meet up with Sander. They hadn’t seen one another since Chernobyl at the beginning of the summer.

Robbe snaked through the crowd till he reached Lia at the bar. They stood shoulder to shoulder as she knocked back her shot and chased it down with some beer.

“You should know my ex is probably going to show up here any minute now”. Robbe swiftly mentioned.

“You and Lucas are talking again?” Lia said with optimism in her voice.

Robbe quickly broke eye contact and shook his head. It still stung to hear Lucas’s name. It had been a few months but everything was still a bit raw for him.

“No the other one.” Lia instantly scowled at Robbe’s omission.

Robbe jokingly tapped her shoulder with the back of his hand as they walked towards a bar table with their beers in hand “come on don’t do that… you don’t even know him”.

“I don't need to know him, I know his type.” Lia shouted over the crowd as she scooted herself onto a bar stool.

“Extremely good looking” Robbe acknowledged that as Lia counted Sander’s qualities off with her fingers.

“Mysterious but in that deeply troubled kind of way” Lia formed a peace sign with her hands at her second observation.

“Mindblowing sex” Lia held three fingers up towards Robbe’s face now.

“Oh and let me guess” Lia leaned into Robbe’s face real closely. “He broke up with you?”

Robbe chuckled “You know me too well Lia”.

“No I don’t. Like I said I know the type” She stated as she chugged down more of her beer.

“Speak of the devil”. Robbe gestured towards the door.

Lia looked up wide eye. Robbe was used to this reaction. Years of seeing others getting enamored by Sander’s beauty.

His lunar white hair a relic of the past. Sander was a brunette now. His natural copper tone brown hair framed his perfectly chiseled face. A jawline for days.

“Oh now I get it. I would have chernobyl(d) with him too”. Lia said a little too enthusiastically never taking her eyes off Sander as he spotted Robbe and started walking over to them.

Lia broke her gaze and quickly looked up and down Robbe’s body. “So what is your dick made out of gold or something” Lia questioned Robbe.

Robbe scoffed. “What”

“I mean you obviously attract a type. Smoking hot with pretty eyes” leaning her body slightly towards Robbe and opening her hand up like she was begging for Robbe to tell her his secret.

Sander reached their table.

Lia let out a barely audible “God I wish my exes looked like yours” as she raised her glass of beer to her mouth.

“Hey” Sander said as he took off his leather jacket exposing his arms covered in intricate tattoos sliding onto the opposing bar stool across from Robbe. The table was one of those cylinder bar tops that had Robbe and Sander awkwardly rubbing shoulder to shoulder both looking strait on towards Lia.

Sander looked at Robbe for a second too long waiting for him to introduce him to his friend.

Robbe’s mind finally caught up with his manners.

“Lia this is Sander, Sander this is Lia. We work together.” Sander reached out to shake Lia‘s hand.

“Nice to meet you” Sander responded.

“We’re just going to finish up our drinks and then we can head out” Robbe explained to Sander.

“Yeah that's fine. Gives me time to roll” as he pulled out rolling paper out of his back pocket and placed it on the bar table.

“How was the driv...?” unbeknownst to Robbe, Lia abruptly cut him out of his own conversation. “You drove here?” she questioned Sander. Sander nodded. Her eager curiosity getting the best of her. “Where from?”

“Antwerp, I live there” Sander responded flaty. He could tell Robbe’s friend was a little curious about him. God knows what Robbe had told her about him.

“What are you doing in Brussels?” Lia questioned some more.

Sander attempting to look busy as he rolled a joint.

Sander hated people trying to figure him out. He was the private type didn't like to give strangers to many details about himself but this was Robbe’s friend so he had to play nice.

Sander rested his right forearm against the table as he sprinkle tobacco onto the rolling paper.

That’s when he noticed Robbe’s friend attentively examining the tattoo on his wrist.

“It's a constellations.” Sander responded in a curt tone.

“Yeah I know what it is” Lia explained. “I see it everyday. It's the same one Robbe has on his wrist right?”

Robbe’s eyes found Sander’s. Sander smirked back at him.

Robbe suddenly turning red at Lia’s discovery.

Sander finished rolling his joint licking it together. When he shifted his body towards Lia.

Robbe thought to himself “here we go”. He had seen this typical Sander performance before fueled with charm and bravato.

“Yeah it's one of mine” Sander shot a flirty smile at Lia as he stuck the joint behind his ear.

“I mean the design of course, not the person.” Sander winked making Lia giggle like a teenage girl.

Sander leaned straight into her personal space. Making her slightly pull back. Sander was making her nervous.

“If your interested I have a tattoo shop in Antwerp I could ink you sometime. You can get this exact tattoo or something personalized from me to you.”

Sander slowly pulled away from Lia’s orbit leaving her slightly flushed.

Robbe chuckled a little to loudly. Sander shot him a boyish grin in return. Well aware that Robbe knew what game he was playing.

Robbe found these exchanges very amusing. It took Sander a mere 5 minutes to get his coworker from denouncing him to having her completely giddy and wrapped around his little finger.

When Robbe was younger these interactions use to really bother him. Make him feel insecure like Sander could get anyone he wanted what was he doing with Robbe.

But now it was just amusing to Robbe. It solidified what Robbe already knew which was no one really knew the real Sander. What Lia was seeing now was Sander peacocking at his best.

Lia broke out of her spell as she fumbled through her words a little and stated. “I think I want something custom. It’d be weird if we all had identical tattoo’s?”

“Oh there not identical” Sander stated as he grabbed Robbe’s beer off the table and took a large gulp into his mouth. Robbe gawked at him unimpressed.

Can you spot the difference? Sander suddenly took a hold of Robbe’s hand and slammed both their forearms onto the table towards Lia direction.

Robbe’s coworker leaned in super closely to examine their forearms as their hands were clasped together.

It didn’t take long for Lia to uncover what made each tattoo unique. Each forearm had a perfectly placed red planet in the middle of it (maybe Mars) with an orbital belt surrounding it. There was a moon and stars and another distance planet in the background(maybe Saturn). There was one thing that looked out of place but also really beautiful. A large blossoming tree was growing out of the large center planet. There was also some cursive text placed horizontally on both Robbe and Sander’s wrist. Lia recited the text from left to right it started from Robbe wrist “All the way” and ended on Sander’s wrist “or no way”.

Lia's brow furrowed. As she looked at both males. “I don’t get it, what does it mean?”

Sander finally spoke up locking Robbe into his glare as the words slowly dripped out of his mouth. “All the way or no way”.

Robbe let go of Sander’s hand almost violently and spoke. It felt like he had kept quiet throughout Lia and Sander’s entire conversation. Like he just disappeared for a moment.

Robbe shot Lia a calculated smile.

“It doesn’t mean anything. Just something we use to say to one another when we were younger.”

Robbe began to get up and collect his jacket. Obviously implying that this little meetup was now over. It surprised Lia, Robbe was never this brash, almost rude. Lia was about to make some silly joke about ruining the night when Robbe sensed it and he did something he only ever did with clients. He gave Lia one of his stand down asshole smirks that halted anymore conversation. That let their clients know that negotiations were now over and this transaction had come to a close.

Lia scanned Sander’s face for some explanation. She saw a hint of reaction towards Robbe sudden harsh change in demeanor but it amused him. He seemed to like it.

Robbe finished putting his jacket on and soften again leaning into Lia to give her a kiss on the cheek and bid her good night. Flashing that calculated smile at her again.

He glanced back at Sander. He hadn’t moved.

“Get your jacket” Robbe demanded.

Sander began to get up and collect his things. Never breaking eye contact with Robbe a dark tonality hidden behind his eyes.

Lia was so confused. It’s like these two were speaking some unknown language only they understood but it was so strange. Lia knew Robbe but she rarely saw this side of him. It was slightly distance, spikey, but confident almost captivating. Its like this sweet, thoughtful and warm human morphed into someone else in front of her eyes but she couldn’t explain what he morphed into.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

“Text me when you get home” Robbe whispered into her ear as he gave her one final kiss good night and walked towards the exit never looking back at Sander to check if he was coming with him.

Sander leaned in towards Lia giving her a kiss goodnight. Perfectly placing it a little too close to her mouth. It gave her butterflies she could almost taste him as he pulled back.

Lia's eyes followed him towards the door.

She sat there bewildered, puzzled, thinking to herself.

What was that? or better yet, who was that? and she wasn’t talking about Sander.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #rosander #robbe x sander #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #wtfock fic #sobbe fic #rosander fic #wtfock robbe #wtfock sander

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possiblyimbiassed · 5 years

Text

What happened to Sherlock? Part VII – The Importance of Being Earnest (1)

This is the seventh instalment of my meta series, where I’ll take a closer look at the two last episodes of the show this far. As you know if you’ve read the earlier parts, a premise for this analysis is that we’re seeing the entire show from Sherlock’s perspective; we’re literally inside the great detective’s head since Day 1, and he’s working inside his Mind Theatre where he reconstructs scenarios with different ‘actors’ representing different concepts and problems he needs to delve into, very much following his usual MO of crime solving. By now I also part from the assumption that from at least HLV and onwards Sherlock is trapped inside his own mind (EMP theory), possibly in some kind of comatose state, and in ‘real life’ the detective is hospitalized and close to dying. These conclusions are based on the different hypotheses I’ve already tested in the earlier installments of this meta series, which you can find below:

Introduction - The game is on (explains the method of analysis) Part I - Blog vs TV-show Part II - Re-living memories Part III - Drugs and weirdness Part IV – Heartbreak and coma (1) Part IV – Heartbreak and coma (2) Part V – Bizarre scenarios Part VI - Live and let die (1) Part VI - Live and let die (2)

The hypothesis to test this time is about Sherlock’s inner development:

Hypothesis #7. By TFP Sherlock has managed to figure out some essential things about John and the importance of staying alive, and he has managed to get in touch with his own repressed emotions.

I think this show – especially from HLV and onwards - might represent an important inner journey for Sherlock, where he tries to find out what went wrong between him and John and what could be done to fix it. On his introspective journey, he gets to learn a lot about John, but also about himself and how he comes across in John’s eyes. To test this train of thought, I’ll re-visit TLD, TFP, and some scenes from TST, to see what this might mean in terms of Sherlock’s Mind Theatre Simulations. But first of all, I’d like to present a background idea:

The Therapist

Judging by the total number of scenes with therapists this far, they seem to play an important role in BBC Sherlock. But which role exactly? And are the therapists we see even real? After TLD I think it’s justifiable to question this. At the end of TST we see Sherlock visiting John’s therapist Ella Thompson:

According to John’s blog - which I believe we can use as a sort of anchor to the show’s ’reality’ (see my Hypothesis #1) – John has indeed been in contact with someone named Ella Thompson, who I think we can safely assume is his therapist, judging by the circumstances in which John mentions her. Her name appears in one of the very first blogposts:

And then Ella herself comments on another post:

And then she is mentioned again when John has just met Sherlock:

She also begs him to “please answer your phone”, after the post called “My New Flatmate”, where we can find John’s first account of the events related to ASiP. As for the TV-show, Ella appears in person in the beginning of it, in ASiP:

In the taxi heading for Brixton in ASiP, Sherlock tells John that he deduced John must have had a therapist: (all quotes below are based on the incredibly useful transcripts by Ariane DeVere - my bolding):

JOHN: You said I had a therapist.

SHERLOCK: You’ve got a psychosomatic limp – of course you’ve got a therapist.

Mycroft’s attitude towards Ella’s competence is a bit arrogant. Apparently she didn’t realize that war trauma isn’t the real cause of John’s trembling left hand:

MYCROFT: You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand.

She thinks you’re haunted by memories of your military service.

JOHN: Who the hell are you?

Yes; how could Mycroft know this? Therapists are usually bound by strict confidentiality, and civil servants asking questions about clients’ health issues are no exception. Did he threaten Ella? Or steal the document? Sherlock’s brother isn’t even mentioned on John’s blog until ASiB, and in the show John never mentions Mycroft’s theories to Sherlock. If Mycroft represents Sherlock’s brain here (as some of us believe), and the kidnapping scene only occurs inside his head, then this is rather Sherlock’s personal conclusion.

MYCROFT: She’s got it the wrong way round. You’re under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You’re not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it.

After this, nothing more is said about Ella for a long while. Until she seems to start communicating via John’s blog again after Sherlock’s ‘death’, when John publishes a blogpost titled “A New Beginning”:

I don’t think it’s farfetched to assume that Ella has tried to persuade John to keep up the blogging. Later, in the comment section of the blogpost “Death by Twitter”, Ella also interacts with the username “theimprobableone”. The impression I get is that Ella is kind, reaching out to someone who isn’t her client (even if this would actually just happen to be Moriarty :))) She might also be very competent, but the therapy won’t work unless the client actually collaborates.

But in the TV-show we see a new therapy session in TRF, apparently 18 months after their last one, where John seems unable to tell Ella what actually happened to Sherlock, and why this has affected him so deeply.

Perhaps this scene is most of all Sherlock’s conclusion after observing on the blog that John was now back to Square 1 in his therapy with Ella? Which means he was back to ‘blogging-will-help’.

I’m gonna part from the assumption (according to my hypotheses #1 and #2) that the first two and a half series of this show represent Sherlock re-visiting his memories while reading John’s blog. He might be influenced by drugs while doing this, and he might ‘pimp up’ these memories by fantasizing about events he deduces must have happened, but where he wasn’t personally present. So he tries to mentally reconstruct what might have been said in these scenes. Since Sherlock isn’t present in the scenes with Ella described above, I think they might be fine examples of such ‘deductive fantasies’, basically constructed from reading John’s blog. (Regularly this is also an important part of Sherlock’s methods for crime solving by deductive reasoning inside his Mind Palace).

But in S4, at the end of TST, we see Sherlock himself visit Ella, although in a setting that reminds me more of a cathedral than a visits room for a therapist. The whole scene seems extremely ‘staged’, like a theatre piece.

And when Ella tells Sherlock he has to open up completely for her to be able to help him, we learn two things:

Sherlock states that this is really not his style. In other words: he’s not ready for it, and

Sherlock thinks his main problem concerns John rather than himself. He believes what he really needs is to find out “what to do about John”.

Which might mean, in my opinion, that Sherlock now believes that ‘Ella’ won’t be able to actually help either of them. Conclusion, in Sherlock’s view: John needs a new, different therapist. And who has shown to actually be effective in curing John’s ailments - his earlier psychosomatic limp and trembling hands? Sherlock has. So, to continue testing this meta series’ earlier hypothesis (#5) about Sherlock running mind scenarios, and at the same time begin to test hypothesis #7, I’ll make the following prediction:

Prediction #1: If Hypothesis #7 is true, TLD could serve as an ‘appointment’ where Sherlock is John’s therapist trying to figure out ‘what to do about John’.

One interesting thing with TLD is that it both starts and ends with John visiting his new therapist. But in the end it turns out that this ‘therapist’ is actually Eurus, a ruthless killer who has disguised herself as a therapist (while the real therapist appears to be ‘closeted’ in a horrendous way). But I don’t think Eurus is ‘real’; she’s rather an aspect of Sherlock himself.

Sherlock might also assume that if he can’t protect John and John’s loved ones, he has failed John (hence his extreme sense of guilt and self-loathing after TST). But if Eurus isn’t even ‘real’, in which ways has Sherlock really failed to protect John? I think the real issues are:

He can’t protect John from being 'outed’ in media, who will speculate about his sexual orientation (the problem of TRF), which John has shown signs of fearing. Being associated with famous ‘weirdo’ Sherlock Holmes is ‘bad for John’ because he’ll drag John into media exposure.

By TLD, Sherlock has reached a mental stage where he cannot help John keep up his heteronormative façade any longer; thus ‘Mary’ will have to go, to disappear, which Sherlock believes will destroy John.

Below follows a series of possible ‘what-if’ scenarios, which Sherlock might be running inside his mind in TLD (and this is of course mostly my speculation). They are following the same pattern I used to test Hypothesis #5: 1. Detect possible initial questions, 2. Investigate possible elements of inspiration from movies and/or Sherlock’s own memories and 3. Explain possible results in the show from each of Sherlock’s mind experiments. Plus discussions about evidence that indicate this is indeed a MP scenario. But this time the scenarios are also ‘therapeutic’; this is where Sherlock tries to look closer at John and their relationship, taking over from Ella the job as John’s therapist.

TLD, Scenario 1: What will happen when John visits a new therapist?

Inspiration: We don’t know if Sherlock has experiences in this field, but since he’s addicted to drugs it’s not unlikely that he has some knowledge of therapy from rehab. In this scenario I think Sherlock takes the role of therapist himself.

In Part 6 of his Follow-the-dogs meta @sagestreet makes a good case for Ella being a Sherlock mirror (My bolding). ‘Thompson’ refers to a character mentioned on Sherlock’s website. (Does anyone know, by the way, what happened to that website? It has been down for months by now!):

“And need I tell you that ThompSON could be a nice mirror for WatSON? (Let’s not even go into the whole fact that this could be Ella Thompson’s husband, which would make Ella a Sherlock!mirror of the first order. I mean, Ella has been a slightly distorted Sherlock!mirror right from the start, what with telling John, in TRF, he should articulate his feelings for Sherlock after Sherlock jumped…

...just to give you one example.)”

[running, running the TLD simulation, staged with ‘actors’ that either represent John or Sherlock or the challenges they are up against…]

Result: John appears to be in deep mourning; he tells the therapist that he has sleeping problems and ‘can’t always cope’. He also gives away something about his alcohol problems and loneliness; he has no one to confide in. He expresses his guilt and bitterness for not taking care of his child. But he won’t tell his therapist about how he keeps seeing his departed spouse as a ghost: MARY (offscreen): Are you gonna tell her about me? JOHN (shaking his head): No. MARY (offscreen): Why not? JOHN: ’Cause I can’t. MARY (offscreen): Why not? JOHN: Because I can’t ... you know I can’t. She thinks you’re dead.

And neither will John confess anything about his feelings regarding either Sherlock or his (now departed) wife. By the way, don’t you feel the scene with the new therapist in TLD is a tiny bit familiar? I at least see certain similarities with this situation from TRF:

This was John mourning Sherlock, and now we see exactly the same thing regarding ‘Mary’? Still in TLD, John is unable to put into words any sort of feelings towards the people closest to him.

Then they start to talk about Sherlock, whom the therapist’s behaviour reminds John of (could the show be any more obvious than this? :-o). But John claims that he’s not thinking of Sherlock at all, and that their separation is Sherlock’s own fault for locking himself away in his flat; Sherlock hasn’t even attempted to make contact (hiatus after TRF, anyone?). Then the session is interrupted when a sports car stops with squealing tyres outside the house.

Discussion: This is supposedly about ‘Mary’s death and John’s neglect of his daughter Rosie, plus Sherlock’s despicable conduct. But I think what we actually see here is Sherlock’s deeper exploration of how John must have felt when he believed Sherlock was dead after ‘the fall’ in TRF. Sherlock needs other ‘characters’ in his Mind Theatre, because he’s still unable to face the fact that it was he, Sherlock, who caused John this level of grief by leaving him. And neither can he fathom the reason for this deep grief. Which might indeed be difficult for Sherlock to comprehend, because why then would John marry someone else when Sherlock got back? John doesn’t open himself up here. But I do think Sherlock subconsciously learns that John might have felt guilty after Sherlock’s ‘suicide’, maybe for having called him a ‘machine’ or other negative things, maybe for drawing media’s attention to Sherlock in the first place, unable to protect him against the slander. Maybe for failing to take care of his friend. All since Sherlock’s comment in TSoT about having been a ‘child’ for John and Mary to look after, I imagine John’s supposed guilt regarding Rosie could just as well be about Sherlock (”everything is about Sherlock”).

TLD, Scenario 2: What will happen if Sherlock tries to make John confess his feelings for Sherlock?

Inspiration: This seems to be almost entirely based on Sherlock’s own memories. I think he is drawing from his vast experience of criminals and drugs. In ASiP there’s a serial killer who convinces his victims to commit suicide with a drug. But we’re also presented a serial adulterer in the same episode; the murder victim Jennifer Wilson. In TSoT we have the Mayfly Man, a serial ‘dater’ who is also a killer, and whose behaviour is reminiscent of John’s. This is, I believe, a long, charged and complex scenario stretching out along the whole episode of TLD. And it’s largely based on metaphors, hence the word play where ‘serial killer’ is substituted with the harmless ‘cereal killer’. As many have said by now: If murder is a metaphor for falling in love, confessing to it is a confession of love. And I believe we have a lot to go on in this show…

[running, running a scenario, where Culverton Smith represents an aspect of John, but where John also represents himself]

Result: A ‘serial killer’ (Smith, representing John) wants to confess to his ‘crimes’, but at the same time he is very contradictory about it, because he doesn’t want to take the consequences of confessing. So TD12 - a memory-altering drug (the effect of which is similar to alcohol) - is the solution; Smith/John can back-pedal and pretend the confession was never made.

Sherlock doesn’t have evidence, but tries to make the ‘serial killer’ confess openly by playing along with him and then confront him. But it doesn’t work; John just beats Sherlock down and leaves him - again. But later Sherlock manages to collect evidence by tricking the ‘serial killer’ to act when Sherlock is at his most vulnerable, which provokes John to save him. In this episode, we’re lead to believe that Culverton eventually, after Sherlock’s ‘entrapment’, confessed to being a serial killer and was taken into custody. But the thing is, we never see Culverton actually confess to any specific crime – not even to the police. What he says to Sherlock’s face is merely that “killing human beings” makes him “incredibly happy” and that he “likes to make people into things”. But this wouldn’t hold in court for a murder case, would it? Who, in particular, did he actually kill? What exactly is Culverton accused of?

Sadly, there’s no open love confession from John – or John’s mirror - resulting from this scenario. But at least Sherlock manages to take on a new approach; he delivers two physical hugs to MP!John – one to ‘John the cereal killer’, and one to a guilt-ridden, repentant John at the end. The apparent topic of discussion is always something else than Sherlock’s and John’s feelings for each other, but at least we’re told that the ‘serial killer’ now can’t stop confessing ‘off-screen’. In the end of the scenario, though, Sherlock insists on wearing the deerstalker, which he has always disliked.

Discussion: I think maybe the most important result of this experiment is that Sherlock will never get a love confession out of John by sacrificing his life, no matter what ‘Mary’ (= heteronormativity) tells him to do. Actually, I believe the modeling shows that it’s Sherlock who needs to take the first step and actually tell John how he truly feels about him. The hug at the end of the scenario - at Sherlock’s initiative - makes this evident.

But I think this scenario does hint that Sherlock is finally heading in the right direction, even if he’s definitely not ‘there’ yet (the latter is indicated by the fact that he puts on the deer stalker, thus succumbing to keep hiding who he really is). The internal conflict in both Sherlock’s and John’s minds becomes blatantly obvious in this scenario; homophobia and heteronormativity are basically the most powerful obstacles that stand in the way for their relationship to develop.

I think Sherlock is dealing with a heavy onslaught of emotions; partly because reaching a point of honesty about his and John’s relationship is still a bit of a long-term goal, and partly because the journey there is booby-trapped with difficult topics like jealousy and guilt. We hear a lot about the atrocious ‘serial killer’ in this episode (Sherlock still doesn’t approve of ‘love’?), but we never get to see any of his supposed victims or any kind of incriminating evidence for Culverton’s supposed crimes. Except for his attempt on Sherlock’s life, which Sherlock admits is actually a kind of entrapment, set up by Sherlock himself.

TLD, Scenario 3: What’s the role of faith in Sherlock’s and John’s relationship?

Inspiration: There are many re-cycled elements in this scenario, which speaks for it being based mainly upon Sherlock’s memories. I made a list of the repetitions in a meta some time ago (scroll down to TLD). Walking the streets of London with Faith, for example, is a bit like running these streets with John in ASiP. Faith’s cane and limping is even directly compared to John’s in ASiP.

And her gun is thrown in the Thames, just like John’s was in the Pilot.

Look how Sherlock has taken over John’s Faith’s cane, and is supporting her.

[running a scenario, where I believe Culverton Smith’s daughter Faith represents what could have existed between Sherlock and John]

Result: Faith – here impersonated by (supposedly) Culverton Smith’s adult daughter - is strong and fragile at the same time. She manages to resist her drug-induced amnesia (‘wilful ignorance’?) of what Culverton is up to by writing a note, and she puts Sherlock on her case. But Sherlock also discovers that Faith is suicidal (directly compared to John in ASiP), so he tries to help her by keeping her company and throws away her weapon. But we see the same gun firing here, as in the beginning and end of this episode:

However, while contemplating his own possible suicide, Sherlock gets stuck in his childhood memories.

And mixed up with this, we’re exposed to subliminal flashes of a syringe and a spoon, possibly with dissolved heroine:

Discussion: As far as I can see, that’s Sherlock’s kitchen in the background. I wonder: did someone in Sherlock’s past kill themselves? Did one of his parents? Did this make him turn to drugs? It’s particularly interesting that the moment Sherlock approaches his childhood memory is exactly when Faith disappears; he ‘loses faith’. This might say something about how traumatic his memory is. But if this version of Faith is Eurus, and Eurus is a part of Sherlock himself, then this also means that he finds her again in TFP, doesn’t it?

A likely (in my opinion) significance of this losing Faith scenario has been presented by @sagestreet in a very interesting addition to one of my earlier metas (X); “Sherlock (in his own mind) is telling himself here that what he thought helped John as they met (curing his limp, becoming his friend, giving him laughter, warmth and friendship) never, in fact, existed!”

I also think it’s noteworthy that Sherlock now has ‘Faith’ for a client, the same way he had ‘Love’ (=Lady Smallwood) for a client in HLV (and ‘Hope’ as an opponent in ASiP, for that matter). Unfortunately, the result is only slightly better than with Love; this time Sherlock at least believes he has solved the case, but the real Faith turned out to not have actually been acquainted with Sherlock.

TLD, Scenario 4: What will John do if Sherlock ruins himself with drugs?

Inspiration: This scenario also seems based on Sherlock’s memories from his life with John; the list of repetitions can be used here as well. Like Sherlock waving a gun and shooting the wall (TGG), trying to convince John that he can predict the future (ASiP), John punching Sherlock in the face (ASiB, TEH), etc.

[Running, running a scenario where Sherlock is isolating himself and destroying his own brain and body with drugs inside 221B]

Result: Well, this rather dystopic scenario – paradoxically – might in a sense be pretty close to Sherlock’s own reality, because this is what I believe he actually did in John’s absence (directly after the wedding). Here we meet a Sherlock who has turned 221B into a meth lab, who is hallucinating gravely and who frightens Mrs Hudson with his dangerous tantrums.

(On a meta level, I think Sherlock’s Shakespeare quotations might be a ‘call to arms’ directed at the audience; how much more heteronormative crap are the viewers going to endure before the bulk of us start to protest loudly?)

But after Sherlock at least manages to save his cup of tea (quite the obvious metaphor here), Mrs Hudson finally takes charge. Sherlock is then ‘delivered’ to John in a fast sports car and a pair of kinky hand-cuffs (insider joke: the car is an Aston Martin). And the premises is now once again John’s new therapist’s house; in a way, the session continues.

But we also meet a John who is even more disapproving of Sherlock than in TAB, but this time he seems to care very little about Sherlock’s drug use or health in general. John says nothing about Sherlock visiting a children’s hospital while being high, and he doesn’t care when Molly claims that Sherlock is dying from the drugs. John actually encourages Sherlock to take more drugs:

Discussion: To me this plot line isn’t even remotely realistic; ‘real’ John would simply not treat his friend this way. He mourned him for two years, why would John not care about Sherlock dying now? But if this is rather Sherlock beating himself up in his Mind Palace, his bias and self-loathing could totally produce this result. And apparently this tactic, no matter how elaborate, is useless; Sherlock ruining himself on drugs will never lead to any change in their relationship – John will not even acknowledge his ‘cry for help’. Sherlock has been dishonest to John so many times that John no longer trusts him when he tries to be honest, and his drug addiction doesn’t exactly help this. Conclusion: It’s Sherlock who must take the first step; he must prove to John openly that he does indeed love him, because John has never understood subtleties. I’m not sure that Sherlock understands this result just yet, though ;).

TLD, Scenario 5: How is John’s therapy going?

Inspiration: Again, Sherlock is perhaps drawing from his own experience and memories, and tries to continue psychoanalysing John.

[Running a scenario where John’s emotional state in most of TLD is contrasted to how he feels after the Hug]

Result: After the intimate hug scene, where John cries on Sherlock’s shoulder (without hugging him back, mind you!) we’re supposed to get a ‘happy ending’ feeling, right? And yes; at first we learn that John seems “so much better”, and his new therapist (=Euros = Sherlock) expresses her pleasure with this.

But, scratching a bit on the surface, this overly optimistic image falls apart quite quickly. They may have solved some issues, but the main ones are still unanswered. Sherlock is “back to normal” again, or at least he’s taking cases. And yes, he’s clean-shaven and tidy, he no longer appears high but rather his usual irritable self, and his flat no longer looks like a meth lab (’straightened up’ by Brother Brain and his spooks, wasn’t it?). Lady Smallwood (=Love) flirts with Mycroft (=Brother Brain). But it seems that Sherlock himself is still working alone; John isn’t there with him. And one of his clients says the other is channelling Satan. And then, there’s suddenly a gun in the therapist’s hand. in this episode, it’s John’s turn to get shot.

Discussion: John appears to feel better, judging by his final therapy session of the episode. But look at the ‘pool of blood’ under his feet (Eurus even mentions ‘blood on the carpet’ at this point). This rug is similar to the one Janine was lying on at CAM Tower, right before Sherlock was shot in HLV, isn’t it?

And the gun looks like John’s gun. In fact, the smoking gun (with tranquilizers??) at the end of TLD...

...is the same as in the beginning.

And the hand holding it seems like John’s hand.

John may write with his left hand, but he definitely shoots with his right. (Which by the way puts Eddie van Coon from TBB in another light. Hmm...)

The therapy session has come full circle, I believe. If Sherlock could kill himself with drugs, John could definitely do it with a gun. Let’s not forget that we have two suicidal protagonists in this show, which I read as a Romeo-and-Juliet kind of drama, interpreted by our favourite Drama Queen (hence the Shakespeare quotes in TLD and elsewhere :) ). John was suicidal already when he met Sherlock in ASiP, but Sherlock saved him merely by existing. And I think the key point here is what John says on his blog: #Sherlocklives means #Johnwatsonlives. But if Sherlock dies, so will John, most probably. So Sherlock has to stay alive to save John Watson from committing suicide, that’s the most important task that he has. And, as I’ve tried to show in earlier installments, he’s actually dying in S4. But he has to stay alive for John’s sake.

In conclusion, I think this is where Sherlock - in all honesty - has to admit that his ‘therapy sessions’ towards John don’t actually work; he’s definitely not a 'real’, competent therapist (which becomes glaringly obvious when Eurus/Elsa shoots John). Curing a limp and a tremor may be a good and useful thing, but it doesn’t actually deal with the kind of far deeper problems John and Sherlock have - both of them. Makes me wanna scream to him: “Give up, Sherlock! You’re not supposed to be John’s therapist; this is about you, not John!”

In my view, this is Sherlock expressing his frustration; he gets bored by his own fruitless scenario, and ends it all by shooting down his main ‘actor’. The session is over and we’re back to Square 1. Sherlock must now pass to the next level, go deeper still, facing his own demons. He’ll have to travel back in time, approaching his most traumatic memories. He must face Sister Sentiment...

But since this post is getting veeery long, I’m gonna have to save Sherlock’s experiments with Sister Sentiment for Part 2 of this installment. :)

(For more discussion about the therapists in BBC Sherlock, see @gosherlocked‘s meta on this topic, with additions.

(One of the best analyses of this episode that I’ve read so far was written by @loudest-subtext-in-tv immediately after TLD aired in 2017 (X).)

Tagging some people who might be interested: @raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @sarahthecoat @gosherlocked @loveismyrevolution @sagestreet @tjlcisthenewsexy @elldotsee @88thparallel @devoursjohnlock @sherlock-overflow-error

#TLD #sherlock is john's therapist #john's gun #Sister Sentiment

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bts-love-sweat-tears · 6 years

Text

Chrysalis (Follower Celebration Fic #2)

Title: Chrysalis

Pairing: Yoongi x reader, feat. Jinyoung

Type: pure, unadulterated angst (though interpret the ending as you will �� ) , tattoo artists!au

Word Count: 1,597

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, emotional abuse, controlling relationship/marriage (not Yoongo, guys, who do you take me for? )

A/N: For anon- Yoongi angst. I don’t write much angst so I hope it lives up to your expectations. I debated typing “suga-coat” so you can thank me in advance for stopping myself. I just finished watching A Prayer Before Dawn and the intense tattoos featured in that movie got me thinking. I was also thinking a lot earlier of the ill-fated love of Tristan & Isolde. Does anyone else remember the movie adaptation?

There’s not a lot of dialogue in this, but it’s basically a long flashback while the person is getting their tattoo. <3

I’ve seen some amazing BTS tattoo edits-do yourself a favor and search that!

You bit down on your lip, trying to stop yourself from crying out. Yoongi’s hand was steady at your side, and irrationally, you didn’t want him of all people, to judge you. This was the first real thing you were doing for yourself, and you weren’t going to ruin the badass, empowered mood you were in with tears. As the only child of one of the country’s leading politicians, you always had to be prim and proper. Even your marriage was arranged…though not publicly, of course. To the public, you and Jinyoung were madly in love, one of the few high school sweethearts to beat the odds. The reality was that every single touch was choreographed, and the total lack of spontaneity left little room for real affection to flourish.

Your life was completely constrained by your parents’ agenda, so getting a tattoo was the first real thing you were doing for yourself. Since you would need to hide it, it was going on your ribcage, under where your arm rested, usually protected by multiple layers of clothes. By the time Jinyoung ever, saw it, it would be far too late for him to do anything about it. But right now, Jinyoung was the furthest thing from your mind. Instead, the smooth, steady movements of the tattoo artist helped to cut the physical and emotional pain, reminding you that this was worth it.

As much as this entire world was a mystery to you, so was Yoongi. At first, his full sleeves and gruff demeanor scared you off, but part of you liked his no-nonsense approach to social interactions. So many people tried to charm you, hoping to curry favor with your parents, that having someone who didn’t sugar-coat anything made you trust him all the more. Since the first day you had ventured in, tentative and out of place, he had made you feel seen. And not as an extension of anyone else, just as a person with their own autonomy. He was quiet, too, and you were always at peace when you were with him, the constant anxiety buzzing in your head muted.

The tattoo you were doing was self designed, a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis. Many tattoo artists would have rolled their eyes at the cliché design, but he listened to you and made something completely unique. As the design evolved, so did your intentions. You had come in hoping to spite your parents, but by the final time the final consultation rolled around, you had come to view it as something positive, for yourself. Maybe you were being superstitious, but seeing the butterfly that graced the back of his own hand had seemed like a good omen when you made that first appointment.

During these consultations, Yoongi had slowly opened up, even smiling slightly during the last visit. You had his number saved in your phone from the various meetings, and he had even sent you a preliminary design that he’d been working on late one night when inspiration hit. You wondered if he were so diligent with all of his clients, but before you could reply, Jinyoung had placed his hand over your own, effectively stopping you. You’d been out on one of your mandated monthly dinner dates (all very public- the paparazzi were there well before the two of you even arrived), and while he didn’t confront you directly, you could sense the disapproval radiating off of him. He wanted all of your attention. You knew he would be livid when he found out, so you turned over your phone and turned on your charm.

Recently, his irritation had been growing as Yoongi took up more and more of your headspace. So far, you were fairly certain that Jinyoung didn’t know where you’d been slipping off to every free moment. You still had some secrets after all, and if he cared enough to ask, you would tell him that you were off at some charity lunch or gala, depending on the time of day. But so far, he couldn’t even be bothered to ask. You couldn’t decide if his indifference irritated you or worked in your favor. Your infatuation with the gruff tattoo artist had only been growing stronger, and you found it harder and harder to stay away. It had started innocently enough, with you bringing coffee to the second consultation after noticing the dark circles marring Yoongi’s otherwise gorgeous face. Who were you kidding? Even with the circles you thought he was perfect, but you smitten.The gummy smile you got in return had left you high for days.

The “really-bad-sunburn-feeling” brought you back to the present. College friends had mentioned their own experience as painful, but surprisingly you weren’t in that much pain. You felt it, sure, but maybe it was the trust you had in the man at your side. The pain was subsiding, and you felt something ghost gently over your skin. You craned your neck, to see Yoongi’s lips at your ribcage-and then they were gone. He gently wiped the spot again to clean it. He was nothing if not professional. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, helping you to sit up, as your own arms were occupied with holding the blanket for modesty. You were sure your face was bright red, but you didn’t find it threatening or unpleasant at all. Yoongi looked concerned, misinterpreting. He left, returning quickly with a small cup of water. He didn’t talk much, but instead sat across from you, hands in your own.

After some time, you got up, and Yoongi bandaged you up, ever gentle. Your parents would gasp at the impropriety of his hands so close to your bare chest, but you felt more comfortable with him than anyone else. He had kissed you-you hadn’t imagined it, no matter how fleeting. But the next appointment would soon be here, so you quickly put on the flowy shirt you had chosen specifically for today’s outfit, wincing as your movements pulled at the skin.

Moments later, when you stepped outside into the late afternoon sun, a familiar figure was leaning too casually against a car far too shiny for this neighborhood. Jinyoung had found you. Maybe someday, you would blossom into someone stronger, but until then, both you and Yoongi would have to wait.

The last few years had been rough. One of your parents had passed away tragically while traveling, and the other had retired from public life, too waylaid by the disaster to continue. Sensing little to gain from your family name, and after three years of a farcical marriage, Jinyoung had divorced you. The tumult had left you bruised, but you had made it through. Sometimes you thought of yourself as the butterfly adorning your ribs-how painful it must have been, thinking that it was dying a caterpillar, only to emerge more beautiful and free than it had ever been. Jinyoung had ruled your marriage with an iron-fist, and though he had never hurt you physically, he had certainly clipped your emotional wings, using the threat of shutting down “your friend’s little establishment” should you not comply with his whim du jour. So it had actually been a relief when he had decided it was over for the both of you. One of your first decisions post-divorce was to go back to the shop, but when you returned to the tidy storefront, accumulated dust and neglect told you that it had been closed for awhile. You knew it had been irrational to hope that he would still be there, waiting, tattooing as he always had, but the naive part of you had felt such a connection that it felt impossible that the two of you wouldn’t find each other. Maybe he had left the city completely, or gone to travel the world. You’d noticed the guide books on his shelves, but when you asked him about them, he’d dismissed them as paperback dreams. You had tried calling, texting, and social media stalking, though it was like he had fallen off the face of the earth. Even when you knew him, though, his quiet dedication didn’t lend well to social media use. The business account you found had been inactive for quite awhile. But the old tattoos he had posted gave you an idea.

Your parents’ former detractors would have likely smeared your name, telling the embellished story of a fall from grace: a former golden child becoming a tattoo artist. But remembering the freedom you felt when choosing to decorate your body as you saw fit was a feeling you wanted to share with others. They may think you were fallen, but really you were rising.

So you did apprenticeships, building your portfolio and working under other well-known artists in your city. The community was relatively small, but you never did find Yoongi. Maybe he had left the city entirely. You mourned his loss,

Finally, years later, you were opening up your own parlour, hoping to make it a place where everyone could feel safe baring their skins, and sometimes their souls. You had given up on ever finding Yoongi, the man who had given you a tiny set of wings when everyone else had been grounding you. With every tattoo you had done up until this point, you remembered him, and thanked him. It was opening day at your parlour, and the chime at the door alerted you to your first customer, and you felt your wings grow a little stronger.

#bts scenarios #bts angst #yoongi x reader #tattoo artist au #yoongi x you #jinyoung #bts with tattoos #follower milestone fic

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unicornsbloodytears · 6 years

Text

Chocolate Fondue

The first oneshot of my Ouran High School Host Club inspired series.

Enjoy!

Category: smut/humor

Words: 8759

“Girl let me tell you, you’re getting addicted to that club.” my friend was looking at me suspiciously while munching on her lunch. “Is it that great there?”

“Lucy, you have no idea, honestly, why don’t you come once with me? There’s Yoongi, I bet he would be your favourite!”

“God. No, just spill me all tea once it’s over.”

I was pouting like a five year old, but I didn’t care. I was ready for that tea party because my week was trash and I needed to blow off some steam somehow, and as it turns out Jimin is perfect for these kinds of occasions. After classes are over every student must go to their own club, or they can choose to visit other club’s activities, and because most of the time I’m a lazy sloth I just tag along.

When last year I came to this school I had literally no idea what was going on, everything seemed to be so hectic and even if the teachers explained to us the rules, I was still confused. I always felt stressed because of my studies, and if that wasn’t enough, my parents nagged me at home too, so all in all, it was the end of the world for me. My friends tried to cheer me up and calm me down, but sometimes it wasn’t enough. I had to find my own closure so I decided to try out the art club.

I was in the bathroom when I first heard about it. Furrowing my brows I listened to the girls who were chatting away about it, saying it was “their best experience”, and a “moment to die for.” I had no idea art was this rejuvenating. I asked Lucy first about this, because she’s my closest friend, but she was against it, it was like she was waiting for this moment since she met me. Honestly, maybe the whole powerpoint presentation about it was a little bit extra, but I guess she wanted to get her point across as clearly as possible. But even with her warning I went there full on knowing what will happen, or at least I had a vague idea, because she made sure about it. But the explanation was nothing if I compare it to what happened when I entered the classroom. It said it opened from 14:00 and closed at 16:30, so I decided to try my luck right when they opened. I had enough cash with me, because Lucy warned me about the prices, I swear to God, it was as if she was a regular costumer there.

When I entered, a boy with pink hair greeted me with the friendliest smile ever that almost made me weak in the knees. The uniform looked perfect on him, but I just couldn’t take my eyes off of his dimples and shiny eyes that radiated positivity all over the place. At the same time I had a feeling this boy must be the leader of this group, because his whole aura was overwhelming somehow.

“Welcome to our host club! Do you happen to have an appointment?” his cheery voice made me smile like a little kid.

“Actually I have never been here. I don’t really know what’s going on…” I quickly looked around but my brain completely froze. It was so much more different than what I imagined.

“Alright, then check out this little book, everything is written about what you need to know. Please sit down and feel free to ask me if you have any questions.”

I thanked him before plopping down on the most comfortable cushion. For a moment I closed my eyes, bloody hell[1] I’m really doing this aren’t I? Before I could talk myself out of this I opened the black book and started to read the rules and other supplementary informations about the club. Obviously there is no sex involved, but I didn’t know some of them allowed kisses. There was a whole biography about each one of the boys, but they mostly focused on their personality and what they can offer the clients. I tried to look calm at least on the outside but when I saw the prices and the kissing part I was sure my eyes grew a tad bit too big. I had to subtly shake my head before going back on reading. I made sure I really understood every word before actually checking out the guys, when my eyes caught a red headed boy.

“Bloody…” muttering under my breath I quickly checked the room and soon enough I found him already talking with a cute girl, looking at her like she was the love of his life. Obviously he was flirting shamelessly, it was sort of his job after all. I recognized that guy. I was sure of it, he was the one that ever girl calls in my class “the prince”, and now I could finally understand where the nickname came from. He really did have that prince charming look on him, especially those plump lips that made me lick mine. Holy hell, why was I so attracted to him?

As if he read my thoughts, for a brief second he looked in my direction and smirked before returning to his client. Damn, he was good. Every inch of my body told me to just get the hell out and find myself a new hobby because this is totally inappropriate, if my parents found out I’m here they would surely cut off my allowance, which I definitely couldn’t afford if I wanted him. Sighing I was ready to put away the book and get an appointment when I noticed something curious. At the last page of the book there were bonuses, the boys could actually choose a favourite client which meant that the price would be half off, but only if the client bought with them the rose the boy gave them. Wow, this might be slightly unfair, but also makes sense, since the prices are way up in the sky, if a girl comes here frequently then she would deserve this, or something.

Namjoon asked me to wait a few minutes before writing me on his list and getting the money from me. Jimin was pretty much full until a few days later which didn’t surprise me at all. If somebody has the reputation of a prince I’m actually surprised I didn’t get to see him in like three months.

I only wanted to talk with him, at least in the beginning. Everything went smoothly until I actually sat down in front of him. His perfume smacked me in the face, and I almost forgot what was I doing here. He leaned in close enough for me to see how perfect his skin was, his cherry red lips that asked me to kiss them, even though I didn’t pay for that privilege. I gulped and tried to distance myself from him, his aura was too overwhelming for me, it was like sitting in front a tiger that was ready to attack any moment. The biography said he’s a great listener and he’s kind so I was ready to use these attributes to the maximum, but the fact that he was slowly stroking my knuckles while looking deep into my eyes made it hard to do so.

“I heard you wanted some talking time. I hope it’s okay if I hold your hand, there was no skinship in the contract, but you could use some.” my mouth went agape after what he said, did I really look this awful? When he saw my pathetic facial expression he immediately started to pout. “I didn’t mean it in the wrong way, honey. Honestly. You just seemed awfully sad.”

“I was awfully sad.” I admitted looking the other way, too shy to make eye-contact.

“Hey, it’s fine. You can talk with me about anything, we have secrecy here so you don’t have to worry about me telling someone else.” I closed my eyes for a second before looking at him again. His eyes were sincere, shining like two big stars, and it made me feel safe for some odd reason. The red haired boy smiled at me reassuringly. “Sorry, I forgot about introductions. You know my name but you never told me yours.”

“Oh fu-, uhm, right sorry about that. I can be careless sometimes. It’s Bess, Bess Castleton.” Jimin’s smile became brighter while he eagerly nodded.

“Alright, so Bess, what’s on your mind?”

“I’m a first year student now.”

My heart was beating too fast for my liking, I was scared somebody might hear our conversation, but obviously nobody cared. Most of the girls were too immersed in their own sweet time with the boys, so who would even care if I started to vent in front of Jimin? He must be used to these kinds of situations so I slowly pulled back my right hand and drank some hot tea. The cherry aroma already started to calm my nerves, that’s when I noticed my legs were slightly shaking. How embarrassing.

“Is it hard for you?” he kept his voice low, which I was grateful for, but at the same time my shaking came back like it never left.

“Kind of. Actually yes, this whole thing it’s just shit for brains.[2] My parents were proud when I got accepted but these past few months they put a lot of pressure on me.” just remembering all those awkward dinner conversations makes me have anxiety again.

“Like?”

I had a total of twenty minutes before the next costumer came so I fully used that time to literally start to diss my parents and the whole school, thinking back now I must have looked like a child in his eyes, still, he was listening to me intently and trying to calm me down the best way he could. At the end of our session I was already smiling, the first time since I sat down in front of him, and we were holding hands. I didn’t even notice when and how Jimin got a hold of them, but he wouldn’t let go until he was sure I felt better. I should have stopped going at the club after that one time but for some reason I decided to make another appointment with him next week. And then another one. And another one. It didn’t matter that I had Lucy as my best friend, if it came to emotional moments she was clueless, not to mention if I started to cry. She probably had the emotional range of a teaspoon, but she was always right next to me and listened to me if I was mad at something, but still…

She warned me numerous of times about Jimin and the whole club, but after some time she simply gave up and accepted her defeat, because soon enough, every few days after school I was there with Jimin, talking about my problems, and after seven months he slowly started to open up too. Not about anything big, just simply little things, like what he did after school, what he wants to do after he finishes school, etc. These might seem like nonsense small talks for an outsider, but for me it pretty much meant everything, because he always wanted to hear more about me, but never once said something about his own life.

“If you ask me, I still think he wants to get in your panties.” summer just started and for a change the weather actually became quite hot, so Lucy, Theresa and I decided to get some cold smoothies in the new café.

“Yes well, thank God I didn’t ask you then.” Theresa almost chocked at her smoothie from laughing so hard.

“I’m trying to protect you from a heartbreak, how about that?” Lucy glared at me and I glared right back at her.

“Lucy, you don’t understand now, do you? I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to shag[3] me. He’s brill[4], ain’t he?”

“Whatever you say, I don’t usually go for the small, skinny type.”

“Small and skinny? Have you seen those killer thighs? You must be awfully smitten with George if you can’t appreciate a real beau.” Theresa winked at me before going off on Lucy too. The girl sighed and gave up on this topic.

“Let’s just talk about something else. I will go at the end of the summer to a family trip, you guys want to join?”

“Sure, I’ll ask my parents, I bet they will be so sad I will be out for a few weeks.” I answered sarcastically.

We talked for a few hours about our plans, and after that I went home still in my uniform. I couldn’t wait to finally put this trash away and get some new ones, because thank you very much, I was starting to hate this blue colour. From next year I can finally wear red and after that black and white, which will be a killer outfit if the weather gets hot, but at least I will look somewhat good in them. Dad was still working in his office when I went inside, while mom was watching Desperate Housewifes in the TV. I quickly attacked the bathroom and took the longest bath in history, with rose petals, some candles, and my favourite blue bubbles. After this self-care session I felt like a queen when I walked back into my room, but outside was already gloomy again. With a pout on my face I closed the huge windows and hopped on my bed, laptop in my lap. It must have been late at night when my phone started to buzz. Nonchalantly I checked out who it was but I almost choked on air when I saw his name.

My conversation with Jimin was short and to the point. I had literally no idea why he texted me, and how he got my number because, if I remember correctly, I never once told him. And the fact that he was probably completely arseholed[5] I wasn’t sure if we were actually allowed to talk and meet outside of our sessions. Right now I had no idea if it was written in the contract, but I had to choose quickly, so I already sent the message when I realized it might have not been my best decision in my life. I scoffed while I dressed in some simple jeans and a comfortable hoodie, I had no intention on staying anyway, at least that’s what I thought while pulling on my Gucci shoes.

“Promise me you won’t freak out.” I had to call Lucy after I sneaked out because no way in hell I was doing this shit alone. At least I needed some emotional support.

“Did you snog someone ugly again?”

“No. And what do you even mean by again? I’m hurt.”

“Going on.” I could clearly hear that she was munching on some food again from the comfort of her bed.

“Jimin drunk texted me to get him.”

“Let me guess, you’re an arse big enough to actually go?”

“I’m on my way.” I bit my bottom lip when I heard her laughter.

“Use protection love, I don’t want to be a granny yet.” so much for my emotional support.

“I’m attacking in 3,2,1.”

“Go on tiger!”

I chuckled before hanging up. Greysons was a pretty chic place, mostly seniors went here to play billiard, eat some gourmet food and get pissed. I had no idea where he was, the place is huge and it’s packed, because mostly everybody finished the year these days. I looked around trying not to pay too much attention to all the dressed up people, when I noticed his fiery red hair in the distance beside a girl. There was no way in hell I’m going to interrupt them so I called him and watched the way he clumsily got his phone out of his jacket. Fuck, he really did look good. He wore at least a dozen rings, and the all black outfit really accentuated his hair colour, which only made him stand out even more from the crowd.

“Ya here?”

“Yes, near the entrance, you have 5 minutes to end it with pretty girl, after that I’m going back home.”

“Pleasse, three is enough.”

I rolled my eyes at his words, but I couldn’t hold back a big smile. He was handsome and he knew it, no surprise here. I yawned when someone tickled my sides making me half-scream half-laugh.

“Bess! Haven’t seen you in a while.” Haruma was a Japanese exchange student whom I was friends with a few months back, until I realized I started to crush on him. Hard.

“Haru, going at it hard, aren’t you?” I smirked at the drink he was barely holding in his hand.

“You have no idea, English people are crazy around here, wuow.” the cute little smile made my stomach sink so I quickly looked at his clothes. Bad decision, the V shaped shirt showed too much of his skin for my liking. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you for some time now.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“What do you mean why? You suddenly didn’t answer my calls nor texts. I just want to know, did I do something to make you mad? Did I?”

“Of course not Haru, you’re not most kind…”

“Sorry to keep you waiting love.” I almost had a heartattack when Jimin’s hand flew over my shoulder, but the fright he gave me was nothing compared to when he playfully bit my neck. That fucker.

“Oh, of course you have a boyfriend. Sorry, don’t want a fight.” it was obvious for me that the smile he gave me was fake but I was paralyzed with shock and when I realized he’s gone I was furious with Jimin.

I was annoyed with his antics but at the same time I knew he was buzzed so I let it slide this time. The bad feeling that I felt since he messaged me only increased when I helped him get home, because his hands always found somehow mine so after a while I just let him do whatever he wanted. Jimin didn’t listen anyway.

After this incident his messages became a routine and I didn’t mind it one bit, until…

“I thought you wouldn’t see me anymore.” he whispered while sliding a hand around my waist. I could already feel the tension in the air, something that became an everyday thing in the past two weeks.

“I’m dedicated to annoy you.” I answered with the intention of sitting down next to him, when he suddenly moved his leg. My heart skipped a beat, this arse really made me sit on his lap.

“But you can never annoy me love.” he brushed my hair from my face which probably had the same colour as a tomato by this point. “In fact, I was thinking about giving you the rose.”

“Not that I couldn’t see you anytime I want.”

“Why do you always hurt me?” he pouted like a little boy while slowly stroking my bare thigh. I could have melted into his touch if he didn’t completely change into a more cocky attitude. “Playing hard to get won’t help you.”

“I’m not playing hard to get, I am like this since birth.” I cocked an eyebrow at him hoping this will be enough to drop the subject, but his eyes only became more intense, which made me all hot inside.

“Nor being a brat will help your situation.” to accentuate his words, Jimin squeezed my thigh making me squirm a little under his touch. My action wasn’t unnoticed, earning another smirk from him.

“Jimin…” in my head it sounded like a warning but as soon as his name left my lips it sounded more like a whine. His dark eyes lit up for a second before smiling like an angel at me.

“How about a dinner?” the sudden question made me almost choke on the cherry tea I was trying to drink. It was obvious that he didn’t care about the club’s rules but this was a whole new level even for him.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I was chewing on my bottom lip thinking hard about his request.

“Come on, it’s going to be romantic.”

I have no idea what spell he put on me to agree, but I was already in my dress looking myself up and down in my mirror when I checked my Twitter. I was rolling my eyes, of course this arse can’t shut up about this whole thing. Next thing I knew he was calling me and apologising about his tweet, but I knew he actually liked the attention, and I liked how he pleaded for mercy so I pretended he hurt my feelings. In the end I waltzed out in my new black dress with the lowest heels I could find, when I saw him at the end of the garden. He wore a black bottom up shirt, a black sleeveless jacket and golden blazer. He really looked like a prince, just standing there and breathing, and I suddenly didn’t feel half as sexy as him. Normally I would thirst all over him right now, but at this moment my self-esteem suddenly went lower than hell and I had to pretend that I was okay with this.

“Love.” Jimin’s grin lighted up the whole neighbourhood while he hugged me close. I could feel his lingering touch on the back of my neck, while he started to stroke my back. “I could eat you up right now.”

“Like tiramisu?” I asked him half-jokingly.

“You won’t ever let me off the hook, will you?”

“Nope, let’s go, I’m thirsty too.” the adrenaline must have taken over me because this flirty reaction wasn’t something normally I would do, especially not to a A+ guy like him.

“Hmm, you’re really making this hard for me. And not just this whole situation.” my face went beet red, and I shyly looked at my feet praying that this conversation will be over fast, because I’d rather shag with him than awkwardly flirt and make a fool out of myself. “I love it when you get all shy around me.”

“Just a tip, how about you don’t point out my flaws?” I groaned, which only made him chuckle.

“Okay, okay, fair enough. You never said something about my height either.”

“It might be the perfect time to start teasing you then.”

“I can imagine some better teasing though.”

The dinner was delicious, but I couldn’t exactly concentrate, and it was a miracle I could actually eat something with the intense stares Jimin gave me all night. I was getting fidgety after some time but no way in hell I would tell him this so I tried my best to look decently calm while eating my meat and potatoes. When we decided to be friends, even if he had to be drunk so we could start to be friends, I didn’t think that it would lead to an actual date with someone I wasn’t even supposed to talk after the club. And now here I am being all flustered from all the kinky jokes and suggestive comments he’s making every damned second of our conversation.

“So what dessert do you want?” I asked trying to sound nonchalant while looking at the menu but the words became quiet at the end when I remembered his tweet. Bloody hell, this wasn’t a good choice of words now, was it?

“I can’t even remember the last time I ate a good fondue.” I grinned at him, naively thinking he’s going to let me off the hook but my breathing hitched in the second I saw his eyes darkening. “I like it hot and steamy, the burn on my tongue so sweet.”

Few seconds ago my face was pink, but I decided if he wants to play dirty then two can play this game, because I’m not letting him win this round. I slowly lowered my menu, ready for my attack.

“You’re awfully cheeky, but I’m not even surprised. All men do is talk and do nothing.” I decided it was enough of beating around the bush, I don’t need a fucking fondue I want him inside of me, and right now. His plump lips parted for a second, finally I could feel a little power in my hands and it made me more confident. “So if you want a real dessert, how about going somewhere private?”

Okay, I went totally overboard with this and I didn’t even drink only a little martini. I knew how much I fucked up when he bit on his lip hard, dark eyes clouded with lust. Somewhat I was expecting a cocky answer, but in the next moment he suddenly got up, wallet in his hand.

“Wait me by the door love. Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”

My lips went dry while I watched him storm off to find the waiter. I could feel my hands starting to sweat from the excitement, it’s really going to happen now, I’m really going to snog just the hottest guy in the whole school and I didn’t even had to persuade him. My mind went blank while I quickly drank the remaining alcohol and prayed for Jesus, even though it might not have been the best idea to turn to him in this situation. I was fidgety the whole time I was waiting for him at the entrance, trying to look at the night sky, hoping that the view will calm my nerves. My heartbeat was crazy, I wasn’t even this excited when I first lost my virginity, then why am I getting this crazy for him?

A few minutes later we were already sitting in a taxi, but I was too absentminded to ask where were we heading. He held my hand, stroking it lightly with his fingertips, but even from this innocent gesture my lips were quivering. He just knew what affect he had on me and he took his sweet time paying and helping me out of the vehicle. I wasn’t even surprised that we arrived at the entrance of a famous hotel, nothing less from a rich family’s boy. I suddenly felt like the dress I wore was too tight and my long black hair started to irritate my shoulders while I waited for him next to the reception. He was talking calmly with the man in front of him while I had the worst existencial crisis ever, thinking about what will happen next. All of a sudden my mind started to be completely full with questions, fear slowly creeping in. I felt self-conscious because every passer by stared at us like they already knew what were we up to, not to mention the not so subtle looks I got from the man Jimin was talking with. My breathing became ragged when I felt Jimin’s hand at my waist slowly squeezing it, pulling me closer to him. Maybe he sensed my fear and now he’s trying to calm me down?

“Love.” surprised I looked at him, he had a kind smile plastered across his face, oh good, he was out of the dom mode. “Come on, the room is ready.”

“Sure, yea.” he helped me up on the staircase and while we waited for the elevator he watched me out of the corner of his eye. “Something on my face?”

“My lips will be soon enough.” he commented slowly licking his own. I involuntarily gulped at the thought of him cornering me in the elevator and grinding against me, which made me even more anxious.

“Maybe we should take the stairs.”

“Afraid of some intimacy, love? Didn’t you say you wanted to go somewhere private?” he leaned in closer, lips close to my right ear, while his hand slided down on my ass. “Where is that confidence you had?”

I couldn’t think of any smart remark so I just stared ahead biting my lip. Looks like he was already back again in his dom space, and the fact that the elevator just opened didn’t help me calm down. I quickly licked my lips while going inside, Jimin’s hand still on my ass, not that I minded. As soon as the elevator closed he pressed me against the mirror. It felt cold against my hot skin, boobs pressed against it probably leaving some indecent marks on it.

“If I ask something you better answer babygirl.” just like in my imagination, he grinded his crotch against my ass leaving me breathless already. “While you’re with me you obey my rules. Understood?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t even recognize my high-pitched voice.

“Do not forget who you belong to.” to emphasize his words, he dig his nails into my thighs which made me moan outload involuntarily.

The elevator suddenly stopped so he backed away from me, and I quickly turned around with flushed cheeks. He grabbed my hand and with fast steps pulled me after him until he abruptly stopped in front of a door. He opened the door with the card letting me go inside first. I pulled off my shoes while looking around the big apartment-like room, but the first thing I noticed was the huge king-sized bed next to the wall, blood red rose petal scattered across the floor and on the mattress. The next thing was the mini chocolate fountain on the table, next to it a bowl of fresh fruits. I immediately looked at him with wide eyes, for a moment I forgot how heated was the mood just a few second ago, until I observed more closely his eyes. All I could read from them was hunger. I dropped my bag on the floor which made him get out from the trance.

“On the bed.”

I wasn’t going to oppose his command, but sure as hell I wasn’t running there, taking my sweet time, walking toward the bed like I had all the time in the world. This probably made him lose his temper fast, because he forcefully grabbed me by my waist and with one precise motion he tossed me on the bed. My dress flew up until my belly but before I could pull it back down he was already right on top of me looking with his piercing eyes at my facial expression, just observing.

“I told you. Being a brat won’t help you.” his voice was sounded sweet as honey, but his eyes told me another story.

“Maybe I want to be in trouble.” I replied with a small voice which made him cock an eyebrow for a second, before leaning down next to my ear.

“My babygirl likes to be punished? What a filthy little slut.” my breathing hitched, his dirty talk made my head dizzy. One time he was talking like I was the love of his life, then next thing I know he’s degrading me, but nonetheless it makes my core throb with anticipation.

“Please.” I murmured under my breath, while grinding against his crotch. His hands squeezed my wrists harder making me stop.

“I know you’re eager babygirl, but let’s keep it slow.” I cursed under my breath but the cocky smirk told me that it wasn’t quiet enough. “Keep your hands next to your head. If not…”

He intentionally didn’t finish his sentence so I only gulped and tried not to move so much. Jimin smirked at me before hungrily kissing my lips making me moan in the process. They were soft and slightly slippery from our saliva, and the way he rhytmically moved them against mine, the way he slipped his warm tongue in my mouth slowly caressing mine… it was a dream. He was humming and moaning on my lips, his crotch slowly grinding against the soft fabric of my panties. If I knew for sure I will be getting some action tonight I might have put on the lace set I got myself, but these red panties should do the trick too.

I was panting already from the kiss and he didn’t even touched me yet like I wanted him to. Keeping my hands next to my head was the hardest thing to do especially when I felt his warm, plush lips leave mine. The urge to grab his red hair and push him back down was big, but I knew better than this. He licked his lips again, eyes already wandering around my body, slowly drinking in the sight which made me blush profusely. His crotch was still making small circles on my panties making it soaked with my arousal, meanwhile I bit my lip hard not to moan again.

“Hmmm who is this pussy so wet for? Tell me.” his voice became so much deeper than before.

“Yours.” I automatically responded clenching my hands into fists while concentrating on my breathing.

His fingers went up from my thighs until the edge of my panties, playing with the hem of it which made me even more frustrated. He smirked the whole time when suddenly his soft touch was gone. Jimin aggressively got me out of the dress leaving me only in my undergarments. Licking his lips seductively he looked at my body like no other guy before, while he stripped down himself leaving only his boxers on. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and the deep V line he had, holy fuck, he wasn’t joking then, when he told me about his dance practices at night.

“Fuck babygirl. I knew you were hot, but…” he leaned down, lips brushing my collarbones. “I should punish you just for being this tempting.”

“Right back at you.” I mewled sinking my nails into my palm, trying not to grind my hips against his rock hard member.

He only chuckled darkly starting to bite hard on my skin making me wince in pain, but pleasure at the same time. I felt him suck on my neck, and bite on it softly before grinding his hips against me again in a teasing motion. Curses and moans left my lips shamelessly, meanwhile his hands stroked my boobs. With a loud smack he left my neck to open my bra leaving me even more exposed to his soft lips. Everytime I felt him against my hot skin I would get goosebumps all over my body. Jimin started to leave small hickeys all around my chest never once paying attention to my whines to play with my nipples, but when he finally brushed his lips against one of my bud I accidentally thrusted upward making him growl against my skin. For a second I thought he will really punish me so my breathing hitched, however he was too preoccupied with my chest. I bit my bottom lip everytime he nibbled on my nipples making them even harder than before. With one last bite he got off of me to go to the table. I was sure he had something in his mind, and I doubted he wanted a quick snack before snogging me senseless.

I couldn’t take off my eyes of his broad back which showed how much muscles he truly had, not to mention those thighs that I would grind against if he would only let me. I quickly stretched my arms before he returned with a plate of fruits and an even bigger bowl full with chocolate. He looked at me for a second, as if asking for my permission, so I slowly nodded my head. He put the plates at the other side of the bed and bent down next to my inner thigh biting on it hard. I shrieked from the sudden pain I felt, but it only lasted for about a second before he sensually licked his was closer to my panties. My breathing was ragged at this point.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” he whispered softly before giving a kiss right to my entrance. I could feel it even through my panties which made me moan louder than before. “I want you to scream my name when you cum. Got it?”

The extreme changes in his demeanour made me crave his member, and for a second I thought about telling him to just finish with the teasing, but before I could muster up my remaining courage he already roughly pulled my panties down. With a smirk on his face he grabbed the bowl with the chocolate in it and started to pour some of it on my slit. This is the wildest thing someone ever did to me so I was watching with wide eyes, was he really going to eat me out while I’m covered in chocolate, because…

My mind went blank again as he licked a long stripe starting from my entrance until my clit. He literally started to eat me out without any warning, making slurping noises and moaning while his hands held me in one place. I grabbed the sheets like my life depended on it, while gasping loudly everytime his tongue found his way in my entrance. Jimin sucked with his soft lips on my clit when he suddenly inserted two finger making me clench around it. He rapidly started to pump them in and out of my me, while playing with my clit and folds. His fingers curled inside of me, which made me thrust in the air before I came hard all over his lips. Even when I was twitching he didn’t stopped for one second, pulling out his finger only to be replaced by his tongue again.

“Fuck Jimin!” I screamed before releasing the crinkly sheets. “How did you do this?”

“You can touch but you can’t tell.” in my mind this idiom was not exactly this way, but my mind was too full with other thoughts to actually correct him. “Sit up babygirl.”

I was still panting heavily and my legs got tired, but I did as he told me hungrily eyeing his boxers. I wanted to suck him off already, however he had some other plans.

“Do you remember what I asked you in the beginning?” I opened my mouth to reply but I couldn’t muster out a word because his intense gaze made me look down on my thighs. In the next moment he aggressively grabbed my chin and made me look into his eyes once more. “When I ask you something you answer me slut.”

“I’m sorry daddy.” the words just slipped out of my mouth before I could think.

“Sorry for what?” he didn’t even stutter, like he was used to this kind of submission.

“I didn’t answer you.” my voice was getting smaller every second, making me fidgety with his eyes only. I only noticed now how his lips became red and swollen after he ate me out which made my core throb again.

He let go of my chin going back to the chocolate and fruits he left at the side of the bed. Jimin got a strawberry and dipped it in the sweet dressing and licked off the chocolate before he ate it in one bite. I couldn’t exactly see what he was up to from his muscular back but I had a feeling he’s going to punish me for something.

When he turned around my suspicion became reality, in his hand it was a bigger banana full with chocolate.

“I told you to keep your hands next to your head. Did you really think I forgot about it babygirl?” I gulped looking at the fruit without blinking. I was sure of his intentions now. “Suck on it while you ride my face.”

“W-what?” my lips went agape at his words. Was he serious?

“Did I stutter?”

His voice was raspy and full with authority. I shyly nodded and took the banana from him and slowly brought it closer to my lips. He was watching me like a hawk so I closed my eyes rather than to make eye-contact with him again. I started to slowly suck on the fruit my face becoming from pink to a deep red thinking how shameless must I look in his eyes now. The banana hit the back of my throat making me choke a little bit but I didn’t stop, not until he told me to. The taste of chocolate slowly faded, but I started to get aroused even more thinking that I could feel his lips against my slit again. I opened my eyes to look at him, trying to keep eye-contact, hoping that I might turn him on at least a little bit.

“Take it out.” I pulled out the banana from my mouth, which he grabbed and simply tossed next to the other fruits. “Fuck this, get on your back, legs up.”

Even though he told me to get on my back, he was the one who pushed me on my back and I automatically swung my legs up for him. He took of his boxers, erection springing free which made me bite my lip, I really wanted to have a taste of him.

Jimin quickly took out a condom from his pocket already opening the package, eagerly pulling it on his member. My face was flushed when he put my legs on his shoulders putting almost all of his weight on me, just so he could be closer to my face. With one hand he started to tease my entrance, but my juices were already coating his erection making him moan. I was panting, my breathing heavy from the pressure he put on me, but the delicious feeling of him entering me made me gasp outloud earning a growl from him.

“Your pussy is swallowing my cock.” I grabbed onto his hair pulling him to plant a kiss on his plush lips. I bit down on it while he started to move roughly in and out of me.

I could hear the lewd noises we made, the heavy panting and him slamming into me with bigger force than before. I had to hold onto his back, scratching it in the meantime, because his strength was otherworldly, leaving me a moaning mess underneath him. Because of this position I could feel him go really deep inside of me, his moaning right next to my ear, while he tried to hold himself above me.

“Bloody hell…” tears started to form in my eyes from the pain and the pleasure he gave me.

“You take me so well babygirl. Do you like it? Is daddy making a good job?” his sweat dripped down on me while he talked. Seeing him in control made me closer to have an orgasm, but I knew I needed some help if I truly wanted to reach it again.

“Yes daddy. Fuck, you’re so good.” I almost stuttered while answering him.

Suddenly he pulled out leaving me exposed, before he commanded me to get on all fours. I put my head down in the exact moment when he slammed in me again making me gasp. Jimin was pounding me ruthlessly while I was teasing my clit, I was getting closer and closer to orgasm when he smacked my hand away and pulled my hair, so his lips were right next to my ear. I’ve got goosebumps all over my body when I heard his heavy breathing this close.

“Who said you can touch yourself slut?”

“Please daddy, please.” I didn’t have any shame at this point, I really wanted to feel him fucking me senseless while I have the biggest orgasm in history.

“Please what? I should just leave you here, hanging, like a little bitch.”

“I want to cum, please.” my lips were dry, and I was sure I had a sore throat from all the screaming.

“Hold it. Hold it until I say so.”

He pushed me back down and continued to fuck me while stroking my clitoris. I had to shut my eyes close, could barely breath because the stimulations were too much and if I came when he didn’t let me I’d never hear the end of it. I bit on my bottom lip which was already bleeding at this point, but I couldn’t hold myself back, I still screamed his name like a prayer while he growled and pushed his member deeper.

It was one AM when I laid on the sweaty bed, hair a mess, not to mention about the soreness I felt from the fuck we had. We finished at least ten minutes ago, he was already acting like an innocent little cat, snuggling close to me and kissing me softly, asking me if I was feeling alright. All I knew was that my parents would kill me next day, if they noticed my absence. Both of them were in the main room when I sneaked out so they might not have heard me, but surely they will hear me when I open the front door, won’t they?

Jimin brought me back from my daydream with his killer hug. I could barely breath he was holding me so tight, nuzzling his face right next to my neck.

“Shouldn’t we go?” I asked him in a hoarse voice. The truth is, we should probably talk about this whole ordeal, but I was in no mood to do so. I felt dirty and wanted to take a hot shower and lay in my bed for all eternity, at least until my soreness will go away.

“Can you move?” he was teasing me again, but he had a strong point, I couldn’t even hug him back.

“Not really.” I sighed turning around to face him. “I need to go home fast.”

“Not yet love, I will order some late night snacks and we will take a bath together. Sounds good?”

“You surely are a boyfriend material.” I commented in a sarcastic tone, but he only grinned at me. “What will happen after this?”

“Well~” his sing-song voice made me cringe, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do this with him again. “If you want to shag again, or just hang out, we can always do that.”

“Chim, aren’t you tired?”

“Chim?” his face became instantly pink from the nickname I came out with. “I’m not. If you would be a dancer you’d understand.”

In the end I came home at four AM, because Jimin had some crazy libido and I obviously have some problem saying no, so after we had our snacks we had sex again, then we took a bath and went home like nothing happened. Thank God my parents were still fast asleep while I sneaked back inside. In the morning my body looked like I was in some kind of war overnight, so I had to be smart about how I dressed in the next few days, using my makeup skills to hide every hickey he gave me. Lucy was almost screaming when I told her what happened, especially after I showed her some of the purple hickeys he left on my neck. We talked about this for days, and I still talked with Jimin like we were friends, only now it was like we were close friends with a fuck now and then.

From days became weeks and we still had the same relationship until everything went down the hill one afternoon. I didn’t visit him in the host club because for some reason Tim, an upperclassmen, asked me on a date and I said yes. He was smart and had the most adorable little freckles on his cheeks, and this was enough for me. Tim asked me out when we had lunch with Lucy and Theresa, right in front of them. The cocky attitude turned me on for some reason, so I automatically said yes, my friends looking at me like I was some kind of alien. They kept shut about their opinion, but thinking back they should have said something, because obviously I didn’t think it through.

We were out, having a coffee in the nearby shop, talking about nonsenses really, when my phone started to buzz. I didn’t answer right away so after some more minutes it started to buzz again. Saying sorry I checked it out, it was Jimin.

Angrily I muted my phone and put it away before going back to my dad. It was ridiculous, what was he even talking about? Was he trying to initiate sext with me? Because if he really did, he didn’t do a good job at it, especially after I told him I’m on a date. I could already imagine all the missed calls and texts I will get when I will get my phone from my bag, for some reason he was really possessive, and he never even told me why. And now this.

My anger subdued over time, so when Tim took me home I already forgot about Jimin and his stupid jealousy, that’s why when I saw him in the distance, waiting in front of my house I panicked. Quickly I said goodbye to him, lying that I will call him later, but undoubtedly I had no intention to do so. He was too clingy all day long, and he accidentally grinded on me at least two times, so I should thank Jimin later that I could notice him even from a big distance.

“Chim!” I tried to look at him happily, but the way he glared at me told me nothing will help me, maybe not even God. “What’s up?”

“Humans are really interesting creatures that invented technology and with it this shit called mobile. Have you ever heard of it?” his tone was calm, but I could feel the rage inside of him.

“No need to be mean about it. Is it because I didn’t give you a nosh[6]?” he closed his eyes for a second before exhaling loudly.

“Do you seriously think I’d make a big deal out of that? You went out on a date for fucks sake.”

“Wait, hold on, you are really jealous?” I shook my head incredulously. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? Isn’t it obvious? We are dating!” we looked at eachother for a few seconds before I scrunched up my nose trying to think of a calm answer.

“Jimin, if we are dating, can you tell me exactly when we decided this? Together?”

He already opened his mouth to fight back, but remained silent. Suddenly his face fell, while he closed his mouth looking at me with hurt in his eyes. I knew we should have talked about this sooner, much more sooner, right in that hotel room. Everything seemed too perfect, we were getting along well, even the intimacy part was marvellous, but what I never thought about was dating him. Yes, he was perfect, a real prince charming in every way, except the jealousy everytime I was talking with some other guys, not to mention all those cases that ended horrible because of his possessiveness. In the bedroom it was hot, but outside of it, not so much. Never in my wildest dreams have I thought that he would feel something more for me, because, after all, we never discussed our relationship. And it looks like he realized this right now.

“Fuck.” he murmured looking defeated, while I looked at him with a sad expression. “Fuck, no.”

“Well fuck yes, you never told me you liked me more than a friend. Never, ever.”

“Do you really think I would just fuck around like this with anybody?” his face was pale at this point, even he knew that he had no excuse. If he wanted something more from me, he could always open his mouth, instead of making assumptions that I feel the same way.

“Jimin, it doesn’t matter what I think. The thing is, you never told me anything, how was I supposed to know you like me? Read your mind?”

“Just, fuck you. Forget about me.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he stormed off leaving me defeated. I was probably wrong at some point, I guess, but to be fair, I really never noticed his feelings, up until now, so how was I supposed to…how?

red rose: If you planned on delivering this classic choice of your significant other, you're in luck. It means "love."

[1] damn, shit

[2] stupid

[3] have sex

[4] brilliant

[5] drunk

[6] blowjob

#jimin #jimin oneshot #bts #bts smut #jimin smut #fanfic

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rockbelric · 6 years

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For #503week Day 2: Endure!

Summary: “Winry, dear, you know what happened, it wasn’t your fault.” He tells her carefully, “And it wasn’t Mr. Bannon’s fault either, really.”

Rated: T

Inspired by Evil-Little-Dog’s Melancholia

Working in Rush Valley was one of the best decisions Winry ever made. And even though she had originally asked Mr. Dominic to be her teacher, she couldn’t ask for a better one than Mr. Garfiel. He’s taught her so much already, she feels like she’s made leaps and bounds in her improvement. Not only that, but he can also be very understanding. When Winry got homesick he didn’t get roll his eyes and tell her to get over it. Nor did he complain when she had to leave for central and got stuck there longer than expected. Or even when the Elric brothers came to town, causing a ruckus and destroying everything, he welcomed them all with open arms.

Even her customers here had been great. She charges cheap since she’s still an apprentice, so she gets a lot of young or older clients who can’t afford high end automail. She’s made many friends and connections here in Rush Valley, she isn’t sure how she’ll ever be able to leave.

This morning Winry opens up shop for Mr. Garfiel like usual. He typically slept in a little longer, allowing her free reign on the shop until he got downstairs. Checking her list Winry makes sure she has all the equipment and tools for her first client of the day.

Mr. Bannon was scheduled first this morning. He was an older veteran from the Ishval war and had lost his left arm. He hadn’t gotten much service done before Winry because he couldn’t afford all the upkeep, so his first visit had been an overhaul. After, Winry and he made a deal that he if comes in every month for a visit, she wouldn’t charge him as long as the automail was in good shape and didn’t have to do any major work done. It gave her plenty of practice and him incentive to maintain his arm.

Stretching her arms up, she works out all the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Working hunched over for too long was starting to hurt her back, she had to remind herself to take more breaks in between her all-nighters.

“Hello, Ms. Winry, I’m here for my appointment.” Mr. Bannon knocks on the garage door. “I really don’t see the point though, everything feels fine to me.”

“That’s what you think Mr. Bannon, but there are hundreds of things that could go wrong without the proper maintenance.” Winry wags her finger at him, “Here, take a seat.” And gestures to the work table.

She worked in silence, occasionally asking him to move his arm this way and that. Winry had to tell him to keep still multiple times because his leg had a nervous tick of bouncing up and down. He probably was scared she was going to charge him for his shoddy keep up.

“Everything looks good so far, Mr. Bannon. Good job on taking care of your arm.” She gives him a smile to help him relax.

“Oh, um, thanks.” He looked off, over Winry’s head as if he was thinking deeply about something.

“Alright, so the exterior checks out, let’s look inside.” Winry gently maneuvers him to lay back on the table. Mr. Bannon jerks his arm and the next thing she knows she’s on the floor, the side of her face throbbing with pain. Winry holds a palm to her cheek, completely shocked. Mr. Bannon is standing up straight and he has a fearsome look in his eyes. She’s never seen eyes with so much wrath in them before and she suddenly feels trapped. Clutching her wrench in her hand, Winry intends to use it if she needs to.

Still shocked, Winry silently watches him above her, waiting for his next move. His expression bleeds out and he transforms back into Mr. Bannon. At least the Mr. Bannon she knows. He looks aghast, like he has no idea what just happened.

“Ms. Winry, I- I—"

He reaches for her, but she scrambles back against the floor out of his reach. Taken aback, Mr. Bannon looks around the shop for help. There’s no one there but them. He turns and races out of the building, Winry watching his retreating back with dread. What just happened? Why did he hit her? She didn’t do anything wrong!

She sat on the floor totally unsure of what to do. Her face hurt like crazy. She was probably going to get a bruise. She opened and closed her jaw to see if it was severely hurt and all the muscles in her face screamed in pain at the movement. She grimaces and that causes her even more pain. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Alright, calm down. Calm down, you’re alright. She goes into the bathroom to check out the damage in the mirror. He must have hit her with his automail fist because there’s already a fantastic bruise on her temple. It’s mostly red now but she knows it will be all kinds of colors in a few hours.

Tears start to form in her eyes, but she holds them back, remembering her and Ed’s promise to each other. Tears of joy. These wouldn’t be tears of joy. They’d be of anger, or sadness, or shame. No. She wouldn’t break her promise over this, over some stupid bruise. Sure, it hurt, but she’d live.

Now that she’s had some time to process what’s happened and calmed down a bit, Winry feels kind of stupid for her over reaction. Something must have triggered Mr. Bannon to make him snap like that. Maybe it was something she did that set him off, but that didn’t really matter, she saw the regret in his eyes after he did it.

Winry can hear Mr. Garfiel in the shop. He was humming a song probably preparing for the day. Steeling herself Winry walks out of the bathroom to face her teacher.

“Good morning Winry, didn’t you have an appointment this morning? Are you done already?” Garfiel turns to face her and gasps. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing. Really! It’s worse than it looks!” That wasn’t true, it hurt like hell, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “There was an accident.”

Her teacher ushers her upstairs to his tiny kitchen and hands her ice wrapped with a washcloth. She gingerly presses it against her tender face, wincing at the contact.

“Tell me everything.” He says, more serious than she’s ever seen him.

After her retelling, Mr. Garfiel’s eyes narrow, something he did when he was thinking really hard about something.

“Winry, dear, you know what happened, it wasn’t your fault.” He tells her carefully, “And it wasn’t Mr. Bannon’s fault either, really.”

Not wanting to interrupt, Winry waits for him to continue. “People like Mr. Bannon, soldiers and such, they have a hard time coping with the things they’ve seen. The things they’ve been through.” He fixes her with a hard stare, making sure she understands. “Living through a war is hard, coming back home can be even harder.”

He goes into great detail, explaining why certain customers didn’t like their automail to be worked on while it was still attached to them or why others sometimes needed a service animal by their side to help them relax during maintenance. Winry understands. Granny had explained it to her before. Right after the Ishval war they had an influx of soldiers coming through their doors and sometimes their odd behavior would scare Winry. Granny told her not to mind it, they sometimes couldn’t help it. The best thing they could do is make them feel comfortable and not make a big deal about it.

“Thank you, Mr. Garfiel.” Winry stands to get up, knowing that by now she’s probably very behind in her day. She has to get everything done and then she has to find an address. She owes Mr. Bannon a visit.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sneaking around behind her grandmother and his brothers back had been kind of fun actually. They weren’t stupid, they both knew that the other members of the household had at least an inkling of what was going on, but they didn’t want it out in the open just yet. They wanted to keep it between themselves for just a little bit longer.

So, after everyone’s gone up to their own rooms and the Elric brothers are done talking about whatever topic they were on that night, everyone was off to bed. Well, maybe not everyone. Ed knew exactly how much time it took for Al to fall asleep. He’d watched him do it about a thousand times since he got his body back, it was no wonder he could time it so well. After straining his ears for Granny’s snoring down the hall, Edward knew it was time. Sneaking around with an automail foot wasn’t easy, he definitely was no LanFan, but he tried.

Winry could hear the tell-tale creaks of the floorboard as Ed approached her room. They’d done this so many times already, but the anticipation was killing her. Winry had waited all day for their secret rendezvous. She watches her bedroom door, it’s always left open just a crack, so he can come in without making noise. It was an old house, so unfortunately everything made noise.

Peering his face in to make sure she was still awake, she’s been known to fall asleep waiting for him, Edward enters her room, a big grin on his face. A flood of butterflies flutter in her tummy at the sight of him.

“Hey.”

Winry can’t keep the smile off her face either. “Hey.”

Her face was glowing in the moonlight, a flush on her cheeks. God, she’s so pretty. She’s wearing one of her cute little pajama sets with the matching tank top and shorts. The sliver of skin that peeks out underneath the short top makes Ed’s mouth turn dry. He walks over to her and traces his hands on the bare skin of her lower back, his heart thumping loudly.

Winry has to tip-toe to meet his lips now, something he hasn’t let go unnoticed, their bodies pressing up against each other. It feels like electricity is running through them, connecting them. It’s different than the current of alchemy that used to run through his veins. This was more like the crack of a lightning strike, scary and thrilling and beautiful.

He threads his fingers through her long hair and tilts her head back, so he can deepen the kiss. He traces her mouth with his tongue, savoring the taste of her. Winry pulls him closer, grabbing him by the hips. She swore he could probably feel the heat radiating from her, it was burning. Edward was a dangerous man. The way he made her feel was dangerous, it was hard to control herself. She loves him so much it hurt, she just can’t get enough of him.

He can feel her breasts pressing up against him and he has to pull out of the kiss for air. Leaning his forehead against hers he breathes in. Looking down at her face he has to kiss her again, the force of it making her stumble backwards. They fall on the bed together, lost in each other.

Afterwards, Edward knows he should probably get up and go back to his bedroom. He knows he should, but Winry is so warm nestled in his arms, and her hair smells so good, and her skin is so soft he can’t help but give in to his heavy eyes. The problem was that he never knew when the nightmares would come.

They usually came unannounced and unprovoked. The dream starts innocent enough. Him, Al, and Winry are laying out in the grass in Resembool, enjoying the sun on their faces, just lazing around. His brother sits up and says something to him, but Edward doesn’t catch it. He seems upset and somehow Al switches between human and armor. He’s angry, accusing Ed of abandoning him, of discarding him, of leaving him for dead. Horrified, Edward doesn’t know how to answer his brother. There’s an immense guilt in his chest, and he can’t breathe. He turns to Winry but she’s not there, that monster, the one they brought to life by accident is laying on the floor, snapping its mouth at him. Now they’re in their old basement. Alphonse and he are little boys again, though he doesn’t feel like a child. He feels ancient. Al runs to the creature and one of its disfigured hands snatches him, pulling him into the middle of the transmutation circle. Edward tries to pull him out, but he can’t save his brother. He’s crying and crying for help, begging his brother to save him so Edward claws and scratches at the being to save his brother but it only chomps at him with its large snapping jaws and then he’s devoured.

Snapping awake, Edward doesn’t hear anything but the ringing in his ears. He’s shivering and feels like he’ll never get warm. He gets tangled in the sheets and sharply twists to free himself. Feeling a hand press on his shoulder he jerks his arm back and elbows them off.

“Edward!”

Breaking out of his haze, he realizes he’s in Winry’s bed. Blinking to adjust to the darkness he turns to see her on the floor, pressing against her bleeding lip and holding back tears. Her eyes are wide, staring back at him.

“Winry wah—” He wants to ask what’s going on. Why is she on the floor, and why is she crying, and why is she bleeding? But he doesn’t have to ask, he knows why. It was because of him, all of it.

Hitching his breath, he has to force himself to inhale. He fights back the tremors from the aftershock running through him, but his body keeps shuddering. He fists his hands in the sheets, hating himself more than he ever thought he could.

“Ed?” Winry’s kneeling over the side of the bed, softly placing her hand on top of his. “Are you ok?”

He flinches out of her touch and doesn’t look her in the eyes when he says through clenched teeth, “I hit you.”

“It was an accident, Edward, I’m fine.” She tentatively reaches out to rub his arm. “I’m more worried about you.”

Scoffing he turns to face her, “How can you be worried about me? I just hit you, you’re bleeding because of me!” He says angrily.

“It wasn’t your fault though, you were having a nightmare!”

“That doesn’t matter! I shouldn’t have hit you, you should be pissed at me! You should be maiming me with your wrench!”

“But I’m not, Ed.” She says so calmly he’s caught off guard. Winry lightly sits down on her bed and rubs his back. “Like I said, it wasn’t your fault, I don’t blame you.”

Looking up at her through his bangs, he reminds her of a scared little boy, “Why?”

“Because, I know that sometimes it’s hard to control all that pain that you went through, it’s only natural for some of it to lash out. You don’t have to carry it by yourself you know.”

Not really knowing how to respond he just says, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She smiles, despite the way it pulls at her bottom lip. His hand comes up to rests on top of her head as his forehead presses against her shoulder.

She continues rubbing his back until he stops shivering. Her lip was throbbing but that wasn’t important. She couldn’t let Ed blame himself for this, she wouldn’t.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Not now... not yet.” He lifts his head to look at her. “Listen Winry,” He’s got a fierce look in his eyes as he gently grabs her face, making sure she understands. “You know,” He has to pause for a second, looking for the words. “You know I’d never hurt you, ever, right?”

“Of course, Edward. I know.”

“And that, I, you know, love you, and stuff.” He blushes.

“I love you too.”

Laughing, he tries to make light of the fact that he accidentally elbowed his girlfriend in the face. “Hmm, we should probably get some ice on that lip before it swells up.” Standing up, he takes her hand, “Though I gotta admit, you’ll look pretty badass with a busted lip.” He lightly traces her bottom lip with his thumb, winking at her. They tip toe downstairs to the kitchen, debating what story they should make up to explain her split lip.

After patching her up and fixing her bed, Winry gets back under the covers. She pats the side next to her, inviting Ed. He stands next to the bed, unsure.

“Maybe I should go back to my room, before I rough you up any more.”

“No! Come lay with me. Just for a little, please.” She looks up at him with those big, blue eyes and he can’t really say no to her.

“Alright, but if I have another nightmare, just toss me on the floor, that way I’ll only hurt myself.”

“Shut up and get in bed already.”

Shuffling in the bed he cuddles up next to her rubbing a hand over her hair. She smiles, but not too wide in case she reopens her wound and leans her face close to his. He lightly kisses her lips, silently apologizing again.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you sleep soundly tonight.” Winry kisses him again and snuggles under his chin.

Edward really was a lucky guy. Sure, he and Winry argue a lot, and she can get pretty mad at him sometimes, and he maybe occasionally lets his voice get too loud with her. But that’s only because they care for each other. Really, really loudly.

But, there are moments when Ed sees the real her. The Winry that’s soft, and gentle, and loving. She’s the most loving person he knows. Honestly. And he would spend every day of his life giving her back all that love and more.

#Winry Rockbell #Edward Elric #Edwin #503week #fic #my fic

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thedivinefish · 3 years

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TGIWednesday and reaching the zero point field and being more zen

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If we can come to that place of neutrality after clearing yes, unclear no, and running forward, more often than not, miracles can occur. I no longer meditate as in at all, but feel as if I am in the in-between more often than not. The more you can come to that still small quiet spot within, no matter what your method, the more likely you are to reach that point where everything can change. Know that we are here to guide you and help/contribute to you and all of your new endeavors in any way that we can. And I pray that you welcome this new year with new beginnings, the peace that surpasses all understanding and do so with enthusiasm for sure!

TGIWednesday Download

~ REACHING ZERO POINT FIELD ~ I believe, think, know and feel that I can reach that centered place and zero point field that dwells within us all. I am ready, willing and able to be a channel for all that is good, light, kind and progressive. I know, when, where, how and why spirit can show me my custom and special way to hear that voice within me. I am asking in all languages, and throughout all time lines and so it is.

LIVE MySwitchWorks Event

Starting fresh new job? Have a new business idea? Moved to a new location? Beginning or searching for a new relationship or ending a relationship? Starting a new diet or exercise routine to improve your health? Entering into a new financial endeavor? What are you struggling with? Is something blocking you? What happened last time that you want to clear the past energy of? What switches do you want to strengthen and turn on/off related to new beginnings? Live Zoom Event Next Wednesday Theme: Clearing the Way for New Beginnings January 27th from 7:30pm-8pm Eastern Registration for live event, includes replay. >>> https://calendly.com/jmh-calls/jan2021-switches-event

These monthly LIVE events are by invitation only exclusively to our TGIW subscribers held on the last Wednesday of each month. These calls are unique in that you have the benefit of tapping into a multitude of issues that many participants have submitted for the group. We compile that list of dozens of write-ins and one by one, we will clear it all together that evening. And know too that during the LIVE call, I bring in additional pieces from Spirit in the moment of reading each item that really expand on things and cover the clearings in a much deeper way. The value in this is tremendous! Instead of paying $68 for a half hour one on one with me where we might clear a dozen or so items, you can join our group each month for just $22 where together in 30 minutes you will watch in silence and amazement as you hear and feel the shifts of near 100 items - most of which you haven’t even thought of until you hear them LIVE!!

*NOTE Those who are buyers of Darius' special offer Package B should have already received a free registration confirmation email with details for how to join the event (see also your offer download page w/replays).

From the Fish Box

"Hi Jimmy, Just a quick update for you - I last wrote you about 8 months ago and you told me to stick with money and investing as I was considering different options to pursue - just wanted to let you know it's going pretty darn well! I've been investing in the crypto market in my free time, learning as much as I possibly can, and it has paid off. Over the months I've created a nice portfolio that has grown quickly into 6 figures, and I've doubled or tripled most of my investments. Granted it's a perfect scenario right now for a beginning investor, but the timing is just "perfect", and I know who to give credit to! I am so grateful for my session with you, your recordings, and MLF. I love your end of the month live group session, I sign up for most of them. If you're looking for inspiration for a theme one month, I'd love to see you do one on discipline, focus, perseverance. So many of us start projects, but how many finish, or accomplish what we set out for . . . I find I often get distracted, I could totally use a good dose of focus! I will fish it out in the meantime! Keep up the good work, and thank you!" - Lexie

Tampa Office Sessions

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s NEW office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions from 10-4 on Friday February 19th.

OFFICE LOCATION 403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack JANUARY 20th "Today, I will endeavor to contribute. I will move forward in my life and assist all I can with others in their lives. I won't hold the lantern while someone else chops the wood. I will assist all that I can to move projects, relationships and my life, forward."

Live Radio Show Appearances

2021 UPDATE THE JIMMY MACK HEALING SHOW GOING FORWARD I put in 5 years hosting weekly shows on Blog Talk and nearly another 5 years into my current show and Spirit came to me during a 3AM ending of My Daily Prayer services and whispered...“Enough.” So while we will not return to our weekly show in 2021, we will of course be guest or co-hosting on a variety of other shows on occasion. So stay tuned to this section of TGIW as variety show line ups where I am a guest on other shows will be posted!

Watch hundreds of replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

Nightly prayers include COVID-19. Each night we work on scrambling the frequency for everyone on the prayer list. Your name will be added to a special VIP Prayer list where Jimmy will use his intelligent computer software, src4you which runs 24/7, to delete the negative and increase the strength of the positive creating a higher probability of favorable outcomes for you.

In addition, throughout the full 30-days, Jimmy will be dialing into your energetic signature each day upon rising and make certain that you are a clear yes, unclear to no and running forward before you start your day. He is doing the heavy lifting for you around 3am NY time while most of you are asleep in order to smooth out your way and increase your most favorable life outcomes.

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

Upon written email request, for each new order we offer a one-time email analysis via the intelligent healing software that Jimmy uses on your behalf. Most clients have had amazing results and outcomes!

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers. *NOTE if the MDP Service was purchased via a special telesummit or radio show offer, prayers will be limited to BUYER ONLY - and will not include family members or pets.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day!

For those who aren't familiar, below is a list of the 30+ audios in the MyBeliefWorks series.... Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better. Don't forget... you can share these with your immediate friends and family.

Abundance Abuse Addiction Body Scan: Head to Toe Bountiful Harvest Creatives Daily GPS Reset Dark Energies/Fears Decision Making Diet & Exercise Education & Learning Family & Relatives Financial Windfall The Gold Coin Healing Body Disorders Healing Mental Stress

Holiday Stress Increasing Intuition IRS & Tax Time Love & Romance Money Mindset Moving Forward Pain Relief Pet Healing Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep Traveling w/Ease Work & Career Weight Loss Youth & Vitality

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

The Certificate of Mastery Program includes 2 best-selling ebooks and 2 clearing audios plus written & video instructions, AND one-on-one time with Jimmy ALL for about the cost of a single 1-hr session! This online course is for anyone who is familiar with OR new to "fishing" and is ready to dive into the deep end & get results that are beyond the ordinary! It includes The Tackle Box & The Dowser's Handbook ebooks PLUS 2 MP3s "Clearing Dark Energies" & "Increasing Your Intuition" to help clear, strengthen and prepare your energy field for optimal “fishing” results. This is a work-at-your-own-pace curriculum that will TEACH & CLEAR you at the same time! In under 2wks you will be finished with the program and ready to fish on your own with greater results! Level II offers Practitioner Certification for those who qualify.

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

Jimmy Mack | Appointments Skype: Jimmy.Mack55 Clearwater Florida USA Book a 15 minute session Book a 30 minute session Book a 60 minute session Transformational Healing of Body, Mind & Spirit, People, Places, Pets & Situations! Download the My Liquid Fish™ Starter Kit (*Updated December 2020) Audio MP3 Downloads and books to improve your life! Get Certified in My Liquid Fish™Change Made Simple™ Watch Free Videos on YouTube Radio Show Archives Shop for Supplements http://www.jimmymackhealingshop.com www.jimmymackhealing.com Copyright ©1998-2021 All Rights Reserved

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

divinefishingtips · 3 years

Text

TGIWednesday and reaching the zero point field and being more zen

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE MySwitchWorks Event

From the Fish Box

Tampa Office Sessions

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s NEW office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions from 10-4 on Friday February 19th.

OFFICE LOCATION 403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Live Radio Show Appearances

Watch hundreds of replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

365dailyaffirmations · 3 years

Text

TGIWednesday and reaching the zero point field and being more zen

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE MySwitchWorks Event

From the Fish Box

Tampa Office Sessions

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s NEW office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions from 10-4 on Friday February 19th.

OFFICE LOCATION 403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Live Radio Show Appearances

Watch hundreds of replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

advancedthetapractitioner · 3 years

Text

TGIWednesday and reaching the zero point field and being more zen

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE MySwitchWorks Event

From the Fish Box

Tampa Office Sessions

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s NEW office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions from 10-4 on Friday February 19th.

OFFICE LOCATION 403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Live Radio Show Appearances

Watch hundreds of replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes