#(and also when I get a grasp on how to plot better with the dumb plot triangle)

[emily-mooon]

Sometimes I just feel like writing a fic where chapters are episodic and I don’t have to elongate an event cause I finished it in one chapter.

And this is where I pull out a fake presentation talking about a 1930s Jancy au that is a slow burn friends to lovers where they get into weird situations and go on adventures like it’s a book written by L.M. Montgomery and has a similar energy to Little Women.

[chrollohearttags]

the baby trapper | armin artlert

armin wants to make sure you don’t ever leave him. Even if he has to resort to desperate measures

content + themes: porn w/ a little plot, toxic armin making his triumphant return, baby trapping (new to writing this so forgive me if it doesn’t sound right), slight yandere vibes (?) missionary, rough sex, daddy kink, breeding (dk what it is with this man and breeding 😫), unprotected sex, he’s so terrible but he’s so sexy

wc: 1.7K

📝: trying to get my steam back a little and I also couldn’t stop thinking about @levisbaldheadedwh0re and his five baby mamas 😭😭 I’d like to think this is how his ass got them.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.

you’d told yourself no..you’d said it time and again that you were done. That this would be the very last time you’d see him..that he didn’t deserve you. All of which were false except the latter. Because somewhere in the back of your consciousness, you knew…you knew it’d always be this way. A tumultuous, repetitive cycle of breaking up and making up even harder. Telling him you hated his guts only got him to be in yours hours later; saying how sorry he was and you’d always forgive him without pause. But this time, he couldn’t be certain…the risk of you actually following through on your promise was far too great. You made it abundantly clear that if he didn’t get his shit together, you were breaking up with him. And to take things a step further, you were moving out of this city and leaving his ass behind entirely. The prospect of you moving onto bigger and better things..new job that paid amicably, an apartment on a nicer side of town than where you currently were and of course, a better man. You had every intention of doing so too. That was until…

“Keep fucking me!…just like that. Right there..”

“Right there, baby? That’s your spot, ain’t it?..squeezing me so fucking tight—“

until you made the rather ignorant choice to make one last visit to the toxic, selfish man known as Armin Artlert. Giving your final plea of sorts; hoping that he’d beg your forgiveness and vow to be a better boyfriend. Because although he wasn’t the best fit for you in the slightest, there was still some semblance of love there. A part of you cared so deeply and didn’t want to let him go. But the truth was, that was pure, unadulterated lust! The connection you felt for him was nothing more than an attachment to his sex..the way he fucked you was incomprobable. Hadn’t met a man who could make you feel the way he did physically. Despite causing you pain in every other area..regardless, you looked past it once he got you out of your clothes and on his mattress, practically breaking the bed frame trying to put you through it.

“Arminnn!….oh my gosh..”

coiling both your wrists and ankles into his grasp, he’d keep you in place, pounding into that core with consistent strokes. Each one going deeper and deeper..drumming out loud whimpers and arousal all the same. A sheath of your juices were leaking onto the sheets, along with staining his cock. He didn’t care..he desired more. Almost as if he were addicted to it. You were already overstimulated; afraid that you couldn’t take another orgasm. All of this came only after he had eaten your pussy to the point of tears. Yet, here he was..determined to get more than his fill. Those blonde locks plastered to his forehead due to the pouring sweat trickling down his body. He always got this way when he was inside of you. The only time he’d give you his all; completely devoted to ensuring that you received the ultimate pleasures. Trembling and shaking, (y/n) gazed into those icy colored eyes, each of which were teeming with lust for you as he finally faltered his speed a little. Those arms..each toned and laced with detailed tattoos stood at your side like that of pillars. “Yes, baby? Something on your mind?”

at the moment, it was completely blank. Your brain dumbed and fucked out by his unrelenting resolve. Not to prove he would treat you right but to ensure that you didn’t go elsewhere. That even if you decided to get in that car tomorrow, drive miles away and never look back, he’d be forever imprinted in your memory..

“I-I can’t..no more, baby. Please…oh my gosh.”

however, that wasn’t the only way that Armin was planning to leave his mark on you. Because little did you know, he had devised a plan to ensure that the two of you would be bound for a lifetime. Whether you wanted to do so or not..

“No more? Oh, sweetheart..I know you can give me so much more than that..” his voice mirroring that of a very nefarious villain. Even patting your cheek and sliding a thumb between your lips for a small semblance of comfort. You looked so cute and utterly pathetic. So much so the sight made him twitch whilst buried to your hilt. That swollen cock head pressing directly against the entrance of your womb. He hadn’t been entirely honest when he invited you over for what he called “one last talk.”..hell, he had no intentions at all of sitting down and discussing the state of your relationship, what he could do to resolve it or how to be a better man. His one and true objective was to get you pregnant! He wanted you to be with his child, so that no matter where you strayed, you’d be reminded of him. He’d constantly tell you how he wanted you to have his baby and that you’d look so pretty carrying it. But you couldn’t in good faith raise a child with someone as irresponsible as Armin! His employment was constantly fleeting, he lacked all the skills required to care for another human being and you didn’t want that risk. But you truly had no choice..no choice but to lie there and take every inch of him as your beautiful brown eyes rolled to the back of your skull. As that appendage left an imprint in the pit of your belly, kissing the inner corner of that cervix. Your legs flailing midair and your toes curling to the max. He wanted to keep you like this forever..admire and treasure his most precious possession..

“I mean..I bet if I do this..” suddenly, you’d feel that swelling tension in your loins deepening when he rubbed your clit with his free thumb. “No wait!—“ “..you’ll come so hard, I won’t even be able to stay inside of you.” His voice is so condescending but soothing in a way. He gave you sweet nothings with the most sour of intentions. Knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to leave here tonight without every last drop of his seed in your womb. Until he saw the lines on that test indicating a positive result. He needed it..he needed you so fucking badly!

“So that’s why I want you to take it…take all this fucking dick, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl..the only one who can get all of my nut. So do it..take it just like you did the other ones.”

it was then that those vigorous thrusts would resume. Even harder than before and he didn’t care that he had now freed your hands and you were utilizing them as a means to slow him down. He’d merely put them right back where they started. “If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, beautiful. I guess I’ll just have to hold them again.” Meanwhile, he’d release another maniacal laugh and shove his tongue between your lips; swirling it around your own until you were whimpering into his mouth. He had maximized his speed and was rutting those hips until you felt him to the hilt. That tight cunt made even more constricted by his previous loads that had been sloshing around. Throbbing and leaking as he thrashed you around. His thick girth and long length fill every sector of you. He had full dominion over this body and wasn’t letting go!

“Are you gonna do as I asked, baby? You’ll do whatever I want, right?..”

“Y-yes, daddy! Fuck meeee..”

“And you’re not going any fucking where, isn’t that right?..”

“No…oh my gosh, just don’t stop.”

your answer seemed to satisfy his ego well enough and that was all he needed to persist. Smirking down and rewarding you with another kiss, Armin gently stroked the side of your face before leaning back up.

“That’s right, baby. Get used to calling me daddy..because I want to get you pregnant. Fill that pretty pussy up..you ready?” You’d vehemently nod with tears in your eyes. Begging for him to do so..to make you his forever. With only a couple more strokes, he’d take an inch or so out and for his final thrusts, slow down.. “..c’mon, beg me. Lemme hear you say that shit. Tell me you want my babies..tell me you want me to get you pregnant.” Leaving you no option than to do so and truth be told…

“Come in me, daddy! Please..give it to me..”

“There we go…now hold still..”

you wouldn’t want it any other way! Finally, he’d come to a halt and you’d feel that earlier throbbing increased tenfold. All that mounting tension of being between those tight walls had finally caught up and he couldn't hold or pull out. “Ah—haaa..shit, coming!”

pulling you into his chest, Armin would empty every last remnant of his cum into your womb, filling your stomach with every ounce, joining the other two that had followed before. You were stuffed to the brim; overflowing with the warm, white substance by the time he finished. Those strings of silky fluid didn’t come without a chorus of empty ‘I love you’s’ and tearful cries. He made you linger on every word. Hold on to hope that he meant what he spoke. But even if there wasn’t a hint of truth in his statement..

“Thank you, sweetheart…for letting me fill you up..look at that. Gonna look so pretty with my baby..I love you.”

it was too late. You were already trapped inside of his web!

[merrivia]

Okay, I have read the Captive Prince trilogy and have so many thoughts...

(And if you like this, I have another essay on Auguste and Laurent here) 

I think the question of why Damen first fell for Jokaste and then Laurent, is so interesting to me. Yes, there’s the blond hair/blue eyes (and the trope of opposites attract + rarity of that colouring), but I think crucially, Damen is smarter than he looks or seems, and I think, desires a partner who can match him. Not in complete equality but in a myriad of ways that achieve a sense of balance...

With Damen’s physique and fighting prowess and his cheerfully open sexual desires (ok fine, horniness), plus his innate, black and white sense of honour and fairness, you can see how people would assume that he is...well, not that bright. He’s so rooted in his physicality himself, so drawn to simplicity too, it can be difficult to see. He’s clearly not stupid, but it is human to categorise, and just like Auguste was probably seen as brawn and Laurent as brains, so Damen probably gets shoved into that first category. But one of the first things we hear about Damen from another person is that he is smart- he has a ‘mouth on him’ as one of the handlers warns. He isn’t brutally cutting and filthy in the way Laurent is; he’s just smarter and quicker than you’d expect. That first line to Laurent- ““I speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart.””- amply displays how he is quick; when he ironically calls Laurent’s mood “delightful”, the next day...this is not a clumsy, dumb jock. 

Even the way Damen speaks languages and understands warfare and military strategies, shows his clear intelligence- he isn’t good with the twisty machinations of Vere because it’s completely outside of what he knows. He wasn’t educated that way. Clever Laurent, as a young teenager, wasn’t good at it. No-one, we assume, is born as a ready-made Machiavellian (though arguably, Laurent’s incredibly sharp mind that is good at puzzles etc., makes him innately good at it once he learns). You also have no need for plotting and planning and intrigue, when you get what you want, by virtue of who you are. Not only is Damen the heir, and pretty much the exemplary model of Akielon masculinity, but that gives him this shield of golden self-confidence- he walks into the room, and gains love and respect immediately; failing that, everyone at least has their head on the ground. He has been given such an outpouring of love from everyone around him, he sees the world far more simply because he has never had to see it any other way. As Nikandros says, no-one has ever refused him anything. Why would he recognise the long game of political manipulation- a game to get you what you want, when you can’t have it directly? 

Over the months of Damen’s time with Laurent, he not only starts to pick up far more quickly on Laurent’s impenetrable personality but also gets a much firmer grip on Veretian (read: the Regent’s ) political intrigue- when he does, it’s often describe in terms of a radical shift in mindset, a complete tilting of his worldview. The reason why he didn’t get it before was a lack of experience of a world so cynical and dark; why he does get it after, because he is intelligent enough to start to grasp it. This might be a good time to mention also how Laurent calls Damen arrogant in Prince’s Gambit (“You, with your barbaric attitudes, your brutish, domineering arrogance, are always right”). This is actually, finally, a bit of angry honesty from Laurent. Damen has thought of Laurent as unbearably arrogant from the start of the trilogy; here, it seems, Laurent actually thinks the same thing of him. Yes partly that arrogance could be seen as body language and the way Damen holds himself, the look in his eyes, but also it’s how he speaks. He challenges Laurent with his mind.

And Laurent challenges him back. After all, when does Damen ever feel challenged? What tests the full repertoire of his skills? No-one can beat him in the field; he’s the best and he knows it. Yet, he does derive real pleasure from Laurent’s capabiilities- as a swordsman and his horsemanship. It’s why it was important that Laurent finish the okton first- and how happy that made Damen. The rooftop chase, too- Laurent can keep up, and he’s exhilarated by it. The true challenge though, lies in Laurent’s verbal repartee and his mind. Damen actually does like to use his brain, to engage in witty banter- it’s fun. The rooftop is fun. Laurent and Damen laugh together a number of times, and Damen is having a blast. Laurent is difficult, and to Damen, where everything hitherto has been easily won, this challenge is finally giving his brain and his body what they wanted. There is a whole other post I could make on why Laurent in turn is attracted to Damen, but I’ll just put here that I think, the way he pivots Laurent towards healthy relationship dynamics, where being happy and laughing freely together is how you can be with someone, is part of it.

I think this is also why, tragically, Jokaste, despite her self-sacrifices to save Damen, was never The One for him. As beautiful and cold and clever as she is, there’s nothing mischievous or light-hearted about her- you can’t see her and Damen having a laugh together. He likes how smart she is, and her ruthlessness because that is how she radiates power and that feels like equality to Damen (something he can never get from a romantic partner, as he outranks everyone), but she isn’t fun. Not only that but, ruthless-as-a-result-of-trauma-and-for-survival, is very different from ruthless-because-I-am-purely-ambitious; Laurent as the former, does get to retain a sense of honour and compassion that Jokaste seems to lack. Mostly though, Laurent gets to be Damen’s near-equal; where they don’t quite match, they complement. Where Laurent needs incisive, perceptive honesty, he gets it through Damen’s mind not his muscles. The moment that Laurent actually tips Damen into the first throes of love is when he gets out Volo’s cap- the sheer cleverness of it, makes him feel the “first dizzy edge of a new emotion”. In the end it is a mutual intelligence that binds them together as much as physical desire. 

[merymoonbeam]

Helppp the other side still thinks saying “Azriel’s book is next” automatically means Elain’s book isn’t next. As if they aren’t going to literally share the book, same as Nessian. Idk how this is such a hard concept for them to grasp. Just saw a Gw*nriel saying that if Az has more “plot relevance” in HOFAS than Elain, then it’s “game over” 😭😭 no one is arguing he won’t get a pov in the next acotar, it’s just gonna be with Elain like Nessian in acosf and not with Gwyn, who has not once been mentioned in any recent articles about the next books when you know who has?? Elain. Every single time. We all know Elain’s book is next, and it will be WITH Azriel (meaning, it’s Az’s book too). Sharing this with you to get your take on it too, I’m just so tired of them having these dumb, illogical takes.

Hellloooooo anon.

Tbh let them talk bc they are just trying to make themselves feel better at this point and even if you try to explain to them they will not get it. They are too far gone in headcanons and wild theories. I just laugh at their theories whenever I see them.

We made many posts and they dont care lol.

And about crossover...it is a crescent city book first 🫡 so focus is not gonna be acotar characters. It is gonna be bryce. I think at most we are getting from crossover is possible plot foreshadowing which I made many posts about. You can find them in my pinned.

Also the real question is if azriel is getting plot relevence in crossover...what happened to their illyrian plot? The autumn court plot? Are they not happening? LMFAO. If you have to change the narrative to fit the topic at hand...you dont have a narrative at all rather just bullshit. If you look at elriel theories...pretty much all connect each other and the crossover. 🤷🏻‍♀️

And to end this Im just gonna link this

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 6

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 15 902

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Art that inspired : Link 1 - Link 2

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury // Violence // Torture // Dubious content

---

To expect a silent ride as I got inside Rindou’s car was foolish.

The moment we arrived, he slid into his seat and handed me a pack of wipes, “You’re not getting in looking like that, take it off.” He nodded towards the bloody apron that I had long since forgotten I was wearing. The mere sight of it had me feeling slightly disgusted, so I was fast to clean myself up and untie it from the back, letting it drop to the ground. Barely a second passed and the man had something new to interject, “I didn’t say to toss it like a cum sock, are you dumb? It’s great quality, you know, some stuff butchers use and shit.” He started rummaging through the glove compartment then pulled out an empty, wrinkled plastic bag, handing it to me in a rush.

“Hold it open, please.” I said as I folded the apron with difficulty. The texture was not the easiest to bend and even less to grasp with all the blood that had tainted it, but I managed to do so, and shoved it inside the plastic bag Rindou was holding. Once done, he tied it closed and plopped it in my lap, “If it leaks, you pay for cleaning.” He commented.

I huffed a short laugh, “Not with how much money you all probably have.”

“It’s out of principle–” He started, ready to explain something I definitely did not care much about.

I nodded dramatically, putting on my seatbelt. “Of course, yeah, you’re full of those, aren’t you? Principles. I’m sure you’re also big on values.” I looked up at him with a mischievous, if not mocking smile as he stared at me in disbelief for a moment before laughing. Silently, I was relieved he found amusement in my words, but the relief did not last long when I saw on the car’s display screen a message that read rather simply:

Q-tip ☠️: OK.

It did not take much to understand this was Hanma, the dryness in his text pattern giving him away. Rindou huffed at the notification before starting the car. My own phone vibrated as well and I was fast to look at the incoming messages.

H.: If they lay a hand on you, I’m gonna need you to cut it.

H.: Can’t believe my doll can’t say no to losers.

H.: If I had a say in this, I’d do them a “Ran”.

I’m sure he was laughing to himself at that. I knew what he meant, there was no need for an over-complicated explanation: kidnap, drug and torture. Although the latter never truly did happen.

H.: But.

H.: You decided to go there with them.

H.: Out of your own free will.

H.: Whatever happens, happens.

It was much more ominous than necessary, I was only getting a few drinks with them. Did I not need to show everyone I was not as insane as they painted me to be? He should be thanking me for helping him–

You’re trying to make him jealous, there is no thanking you.

Facing straight ahead, I ignored her. It was easy to do when I could focus on Hanma’s new texts.

H.: I’ll be home late but I better have you conscious

H.: Not passed out drunk

H.: If you’re drunk you won’t remember to keep track of the shit I gotta beat them up for

That’s new, I thought, reading his messages over and over again. Some emotion was clearly showing a lot more than usual here and it was such a rare sight, but a sight that I still longed for nonetheless. 

Or did I? 

Did I really crave it at this very moment when it was completely uncalled for? Was it better to have it when it was not needed rather than not having it at all? I did not know.

He replied.

H.: Text every hour.

That simple text felt off-putting. It was strange to see him act almost caringly, and yet I smiled. No matter how thrown-off I was right now, there was something in my body that was screaming, fighting for more of whatever this was—as if I had already lost any chance of getting him to show me affection and I was now craving it again.

Again?

I feared losing him. Why? These emotions were rooted in nothing, he hadn’t shown me anything but devotion all this time.

So why did I have such a fear?

I typed back.

Not thinking for more than a second, I sent it. “There is a lot of catching up to do with them, you know, after years of being treated like a pariah. Your act is cute though, unsure it’ll make up for all we went through.” Reading it over again, my eyes widened and only one thought crossed my mind: what the hell did I just say?

Quickly, I typed back.

Me: I don’t know why I said that

Me: Haha

Me: I’ll be careful

I pondered over my options for a second, weighing the pros and cons of adding to the already weird thread the rest of the rambles in my mind. The debate did not last long.

Me: But it’s

Me: Cute

Me: When you’re worried

Me: It’ll be okay, I’m just trying to fix my fuck-up so you don’t get more hate

Me: Not that I’m your knight in shining armor or anything

Me: But I’m not going to just do nothing

Me: What I’m saying is

Me: I’ll be fine.

With a quick glance at Rindou, whose eyes were fixed on the road, I replied once more to Hanma who had kept awfully silent since the beginning of my constant messaging.

Me: They’ve got nothing on you

Me: You are the only one for me.

H.: [image]

An audible gasp escaped my lips as I saw the photo he had sent me. Something inside me lit up at the sight, a mix of nostalgia and something much deeper, much stronger. It made a grin slowly creep on my face. Back then, I hardly would have believed it, had anyone told me I would be giddy at the sight of a dead hooker on the ground. And yet, something else was boiling inside me.

Then his text had it all blow up.

H.: You think I’m jealous?

There was a name to that feeling.

Ire.

Ire upon seeing her, because even dead, I couldn’t help but wonder how far he had gone. With his touches, his kisses, his words, his lies, all to try to get her to give him any sort of information. Those actions were reserved for me, only me, not her. Not anyone else.

Me: Glad she’s dead

The words were dry and yet, his interest was piqued.

H.: Yeah?

I started typing instantly but had to stop. I could not put it into words without sounding crazy, so I looked up at Rindou and hesitated a moment before asking him, “Say, how do I tell him that wherever that bitch touched him is foul, and dirty, and I need to touch him, feel him and make him understand that she was shit and–”

Rindou cut me off by holding up a hand towards me, a sign for me to stop. His eyes were wide from the little I had already told him, and for a split second I regretted saying anything. He shook his head, “How about… hello? Fuck, woman, you’re insane.” He sighed, a short pause before another louder sigh, “Let me think.” His eyes focused back on the road, a side glance thrown my way beforehand.

I decided he needed to know more about the situation and resumed, “I think he’s trying to make me jealous, which is working, except that I thought we were past that—the whole ‘whore pictures being sent while we’re both doing something different’, you know?” I took a deep breath and looked down at my phone once more, no new messages from Hanma.

“Yeah… uh? I don’t know, if that was me I’d wanna hear like… shit, I don’t know, both of you are insane anyway!” He then batted his eyes at me, clearly joking, “Let Poe possess you or whatever, let your heart speak or something.” He said the last part in a higher tone, mockingly, but who was he imitating? I had no idea.

Giving him a curt nod, I added a dry smile, “You’re useless, thank you for nothing.” With that, I let my fingers type anything that came to mind at this point.

Me: I have lots of thoughts on all the ways I’ll fuck you to get rid of HER

Me: can’t imagine what you did to get her to speak

Me: but I'll fuck it out of you

A beat.

He was typing once more. I had stepped out of my comfort zone, out of all of the boundaries of what I believed I was allowed to tell him. It had my heart beating so fast, I started feeling the tiniest bit dizzy. Maybe even nauseous. My body was colder than usual, I was nervous of his answer. Fearful, even.

H.: Haha

H.: Yeah?

H.: My girl’s possessive?

H.: But you’re not in charge.

H.: We’ll see when you get home

H.: And frankly? It’s too down bad of you to be jealous of a dead girl.

H.: Glad my doll’s still mine. It’s fun, you know? This little thing you’re doing.

Me: I’ll return the favor. We’ll see how much fun you have as the night goes on, Shuji

Me: 😛

Then I put the phone away. He had decided to make me jealous on purpose, sure. But now I wished he’d feel what I felt. He needed to understand me. I could regret fucking around. I could. Or I could not.

Looking up at Rindou, I grinned, “All good now, he’s cool with us getting a drink.”

The younger brother shrugged, “I very much doubt he is but I couldn’t care less—what I care about is knowing this, were you sexting that fucker right next to me?” Hearing his words, I froze and turned around to look at the road with an overly dramatic pout as I shook my head slowly, “Nah. Nah, I wouldn’t do that.”

He burst out laughing, “Get help, for real.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you can all text your women during a meeting, but I can’t send fun stuff to my man while you’re driving?” I scoffed, a genuine smile on my lips at the light banter I was having with him. For all the time I had known him, and most of the executives, it was one of the rare times I had fun with any of them. Grabbing his phone, I skipped some songs and put the volume louder, “Fake ass.” I commented jokingly.

For a moment, I could ignore her in the backseat. It was much easier like this, music blasting and someone to push any thoughts of her away. But she never truly left.

Relief coursed through my body when, after about fifteen minutes, Rindou pulled up the car in front of a fancy-looking place. He handed his keys to a valet and gestured for me to follow, grinning like an asshole, “What, never saw a valet? There’s no way I’m taking hours trying to park this baby.” He tilted his head to the side in a condescending manner. It made me click my tongue against my teeth as I gave him a deadpan look. He pursed his lips, “Come on, don’t give me that look, you’ll get used to the fancy stuff.”

“I’d rather not get used to valets, it’s too snobbish for my taste.” I said, joining him as he stopped in front of the glass door of a well-renovated building. Just by the sight of it, I knew that shit was elitist, but those places knew how to handle things. The bodyguard would probably send away anyone not dressed suitably enough for the high exclusivity of the place, or people that were certainly in immense debt from showing off more money than they really had. But here? He did not check me for anything, no name, no weapon—nothing.

I watched his eyes linger only barely on Rindou, which was enough to show he had recognized him. If not by his tattoo, there were surely more things to identify him, with what people would have gathered from gossiping. For just a short moment, I debated making myself small so I would not be stopped, but there was no time for that, I was part of Bonten as much as anyone.

With my chin held high, I entered the place and immediately felt the change in the air as people seemed to be all too aware of us—no, not us, I reminded myself. Just Rindou. 

I wondered.

People must have recognized his status from the tattoo, which in the long-run would not work enough for me because, realistically, what could I do? Lift my shirt every time I enter a place to show I was an executive? No. I could do better, I needed something to be known for.

A reputation would help.

Another man we walked past gave me a once over and stopped at my face—no, not my face, the side of it. It was just for a few seconds, but I was too conscious of myself in this place to miss it.

The earring.

His earring.

Even now, alone, without him here, I was simply his.

I liked it. I loved him. But there was this sense of self that I was losing in the process of only being acknowledged as The Reaper’s girl. My fingers grazed the jewelry gently, slowly, so delicately I held back a chuckle at how it contrasted all that had happened earlier. 

What had happened earlier? What happened today? I couldn’t remember it all, only some flashes of a memory, but it seemed that I had left a man on the floor. It was all fuzzy and very blurry. I knew Koko and Rindou had been there with me, but what would it look like if I started asking them for help to clear up my mind?

As I followed Rindou further in the dark room, we reached an area further in the back that had a nice round table, on one side a crescent-shaped bench split in two and on the other two beautiful chairs with soft cushions and armrests.

“Look what my brother dragged in, the crazy bitch!” Ran exclaimed, his arms resting on the back of the bench seats. His words broke me out of my daydreaming, Rindou spoke before I could, “Listen, I don’t like the bitch much, but she has potential.” He pushed me forward, presenting me like a gift, almost making my leg hit the table, “Don’t you? Tell ‘em what you did, it was super fun, right?” He then moved around the table to sit by Sanzu’s side with a huff and his huge asshole smile. I stood in front of them feeling hopeless and put on the spot, Ran to the right, Sanzu in the middle and Rindou, who had just joined in on the left.

My mouth felt dry, so dry that no words came out and I had a hard time swallowing—for some reason, this entire situation felt like I was being bullied by the mean girls in high school, which I could not let slide. I did not remember much of what I had done, but I could fake it, so I straightened my back and huffed a laugh, “Bring some refreshments,” I said with a mocking tone, “I’m not the jester that’s going to give you entertainment, so I’ll sit down, we’ll get some drinks, and then we will talk, good?” It was only as I pulled up a chair, not wanting to sit next to them, that I noticed how few people were around us; we were much further back than the escorts and rich men at the very front.

Simply calling it a ‘VIP section’ was embarrassing given the look of the place, even more so knowing there was no delimited area that would make one believe so. It was just an unspoken rule of sorts. People seemed to know not to sit in the back, nor to look over here either. Only a few of them dared to steal furtive glances our way as they would pretend to reach for something in their bags or their coat pockets, or even as they would call for the waiters. A few seconds was all they allowed themselves to gaze over.

Finally, as I sat, I caught Ran’s gaze and rolled my eyes before he could speak, “Should you fear for your drink? Yes, but only if you can’t let go of the past—no, because, you know, I am a changed woman.” I paused, leaning on the table, “We’ve both grown, you and I, is it that hard to–”

Ran was still pissed off. Granted, his anger was founded, but it was more than a year ago now, how petty could he be? He interrupted me and huffed, “I’ll keep an eye out anyway.”

With a heavy sigh, I ran a hand over my face, “Well, I won’t do shit to your drink, but it’s your call!” I then looked at Rindou and clasped my hands in front of me, “Drinks then! Let your paranoid brother get his own drink himself, I will show good faith and let you order for me.” I gave him a short smile, which fell rapidly when the younger brother mimicked my position and leaned on the table himself, fist against his cheek, “You’re paying then?”

I had little to no energy to feel called out or embarrassed. These men were loaded, of course I had no intent to pay. They knew that and I knew that, but they were also dicks and the only way to pay them back in the same coin was to play to their weaknesses. I smirked, “Oh, need mommy to get your stuff? Wanna get spoiled?” I asked mockingly, a fake pout on my lips as I pleaded, for more theatrics. It had Sanzu laughing as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him.

The Haitanis were not talking, so I continued. This time, I gestured like I was going to tell them a secret, my hand half covering my mouth as if I was whispering into their ears but everyone could hear. It was all for fun. At least I was having fun, “Rin, you should have told me it was hard financially, but I’m feeling generous.” To make it even more believable, I reached out for my wallet only to have Rindou shove my hand back inside the bag, “That’s not how it’s fucking done.” He sighed, glancing at the two other men.

The three men got their wallets out and then tossed their cards onto the plate in the middle of the table—so this was what it was used for? I was convinced it was for cocaine. I was not going to join them on their little wealth show-off, although it made sense for them not to openly debate who would pay. Relying on chance and the innocent hand of the waiter was much more logical.

Unbothered by their paying off my share, I gasped jokingly, “Here I thought chivalry was dead!” with a short pause, I resumed, “I will take whatever drink, as long as it’s not roofied.” I winked at Ran who mumbled something under his breath. I was probably pushing the joke too far, but I had no idea what to talk about with them, maybe I was just panicking.

Rin raised his hand to call the waiter over, which made me realize I would have been stupid enough to think they would have gone to the bar to order and grab their orders. This did not look like just any random bar, and if some would have found it polite for the people inviting you to get your drinks, they did not do those things. They did diplomacy at certain times, but they also mainly did demonstrations of status—their reputation allowed them a great many things, amidst them some freedoms which they did not take. I was certain they could be the worst people if they wanted to, but had an amount of decency that kept them somewhat humble.

Surely, if someone rubbed them the wrong way they would make themselves heard, but until then, they would just be treated like royalty in silence.

As we watched the waiter walk away with our order in mind, Rindou was the first to talk, “So, Ran, how many old hags are gonna be drooling over your ass at that gay ball?”

Ran raised a brow, “Is it gay ‘cause Koko’s throwing it or…” He joked, making everyone but myself laugh. I hadn’t yet got accustomed to their humor and I was starting to understand it was as low as it could get. I even found myself wishing I could have made this up, just to spare me the disappointment of finding out that no matter their status in the world, men would remain just that: men.

“I would think his looks are too eclectic for old women.” I commented, getting Sanzu to hum as he took his drink from the tray the waiter brought. As he put the glass down, he nodded at me, “You’d be surprised—no, cause I’m also surprised, have you seen the man?”

I gave Ran a good look, taking a sip from my own drink, shrugging, “Objectively, he isn’t shabby, you know? Now, here,” I tapped my head with my index finger, hinting at his personality, “is where it gets ugly.” It had him seething, it was quite enjoyable to see. What would he do? Throw a fight in public? I grinned and added, “But hey, they wouldn’t find out for one night, right?” Ran’s lack of laughter at my unsavory comment made the two other men laugh even more, they were thriving on his misery, at least to some extent.

The short-haired man leaned back in his seat, glass in hand as he raised it towards me, “It has to do with my charm, my charisma, maybe even my poise.” He gave me a side glance, his eyes traveling over my form only slightly before meeting my eyes again, his finger raised from the glass to point at me, “Not that you would know much about any of this.”

I took offense.

“Arrogance and being born with a silver spoon in your mouth must play in your favor with wealthy grandmas, right?” I then shook my head, clenching my jaw in annoyance only slightly as I theatrically thought hard before smiling, “No, wait, wait, it’s on the tip of my tongue, there’s a word that…” I stuck my tongue out, muttering inarticulately before exclaiming, “Ah, yes! Privilege! That’s what best describes you.” And it was what lost me points with Rindou too, pointing fingers at his brother meant pointing fingers at him. I hardly knew anything about their past, but I knew they were born from wealth, whatever happened afterwards must have been the byproduct of their greed and need to rebel.

Clasping my lips together, I drank some more and raised my brows, looking around, “So do we have some games here or is it just gossiping like bitter old people?”

Rin’s smile grew, “Both.”

I was not stupid enough to not realize the tension I had brought, but there was no apologizing to be done, they did not care for such things. Instead, I hummed while thinking, “Blackjack? Poker?” I was starting to grow bored, but I needed to get along with them. They shouldn’t be too bad, I could prove to them I was still socially apt—I needed to show Hanma I could have fun without him while he was around having fun with whores for show.

Sanzu downed the rest of his drink and nodded before raising a hand to call for someone. A beautiful woman hurried to the table and leaned in, I could read on his lips “Bring some fun.” She then nodded and walked away as fast as she came—my eyes trailed on her for a moment, not even attempting to gauge how stressed she must be. She hid it well, not one misstep, not one mistake, she spoke to someone in the back who disappeared before coming out with a small table.

The pink-haired man nudged my foot, “You into girls too?” he said with a huge smile.

“I’m taken, does it really matter?” I said with a sigh, wincing when he nudged me harder, “Yeah, it matters! Everyone needs to know if you’re into pu–” There was no need for his vulgarity, really, but they were too close as friends to not be comfortable speaking with each other like that. With ‘providers’ or ‘clients’ they would be eloquent, not here though. “She is very cute, but I was watching mostly in awe at how she was dealing with you both.”

Leaning back in his seat, Sanzu gave me a pitying look, his arms draping on the back of the cushions, “It’s insane how badly that fucker got inside your head, everyone’s in the wrong but him, right?” He stated, a growing smile on his lips. I frowned for a second, my hand gripping my thigh in anger but I did not break eye contact, instead, I hummed, “I can easily recall all the crazy shit I was put through because of–”

“Because of him, really. Thought you’d know by now. Every errand you were ever sent on went through him first, part of some whatever elaborate fucking scheme, I’d imagine. Mikey always lets it happen ‘cause your man’s not as unimportant as he wants everyone to believe.” He continued, nodding at the waitress that came by, placing a beautiful ornate tray with white powder on it before bowing and getting out of the way once more. Sanzu raised a finger, gesturing that he needed a moment before he could go on. He used one of the cards in the middle of the table to draw four perfect lines on the tray before sniffing one; he then pushed the tray over to Rindou as he resumed, “Mikey’s had enough though, he doesn't like the fucker having him by the balls much. The Reaper’s pet project’s gonna have to come to an end, he should be reminded that you’re Bonten’s, not his.” He brushed off some leftovers from under his nose and grinned at me.

I could feel myself growing angrier and yet part of me could not believe he was lying, instead it felt all too real. I couldn't help but slightly fear what they would do more, other than breaking Hanma and I apart. I would not let it happen. I would not let them continue on that stupid topic.

The tray had passed by Ran, who then handed it to me with boredom in his eyes as I grabbed it with bitterness, unsure why I did what I did. After telling Shiho time and time again not to touch that shit, I brought the tray to my face and blocked one of my nostrils, snorting the rail Sanzu had prepared. I handed him back the tray and glared, “Always these talks about belonging, Bonten, The Reaper, the streets—it’s all the same, isn’t it? I don’t have much choice where the fuck I end up. It almost feels like this sense of independence is fake.” I scoffed, holding back a smile when the three men seemed slightly surprised not by my words, I was aware, but by the fact I had indeed taken them up on their offer.

“If my custody’s going to change, I say we should have one last fun night before it all goes to shit, yeah?” I grabbed their cards between my fingers and shook my head, tutting, “No more drinks, mixing’s bad.” Waiters finally brought a fully set poker table over, which I thanked them for as one of them stayed behind. He placed himself behind the table where the dealer’s spot would be. I gave him a strange look then faced back the other men at the table, “One great, entertaining, not-stereotypical rich people game of poker, then I have plans for us.” I said with a grin. I was all too bold with my words and my attitude right now, I almost reminded myself of Shiho, but it did not matter.

Rindou nodded, “Oh yeah, I’m in, the bar’s high though. Better make it count.”

“If Rin’s in, I’m in.” Ran rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the stupid smile on his lips upon seeing his brother this excited for this. They were a pair, a duo meant for drama and insanity. Sanzu’s smile widened, “I’m all for—huh, shit how did she put it…” He seemed to think for a while, dragging his words before pulling his phone out and looking at something, “Teenaged girlies night out?” He said in a confused tone, most likely quoting something Shiho told him. A loud snort escaped my nose as I barked a laugh, “Definitely that!” I exclaimed.

The three men gave me a judgmental look that I ignored as the dealer handed us our cards and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips at the thought of Shiho. Frankly, it was all too stereotypical to play poker on a night out, boring too, but if I had to go through that to have free reign on what to do next, then I would.

The Haitani brothers were more the gaslighting type, reacting too much or too little on purpose, which was the goal, but they also seemed to give each other looks to help one another. Sanzu however was good at this. He kept a deadpan, straight face. I played the first-time-playing card, which was a lie, but it sure was fun to see them all very confident in their games when they ‘knew’ what I had, from my ‘reactions’ that gave away everything.

It took way too long for one game however, long enough for the effect of the initial high to wane off. Long enough for Sanzu and Ran to fold, while Rindou and I stared at each other, trying to guess one another’s next move while debating what to do next at the same time.

Raise or fold? Raise… or fold.

“Raise.” I said, adding half my chips and giving Rindou a tight smile.

He seemed taken aback by my action which, in all fairness, I understood since I also surprised myself by doing that. I was not one to play poker in the first place, even less with these very specific men, not that they were that bad as people but they were not my friends. I do recall playing one time with Shiho. I think we had other people with us, but I don't recall anyone that really struck me as important and so it was quite quickly erased from my memory. 

I even started doubting my memory. Sometimes I would remember things that I was certain happened—except that they didn't. I suppose I had to blame that on my very vivid dreams, those dreams that I have been having for quite a while now, the very ones that seemed so real, horrific, traumatizing. 

But now was not the time to think back on those, I had in front of me a Haitani brother sweating, panicked, out of his wits. I really enjoyed the sight. 

I knew who else would enjoy the sight, Shiho—if she was here, she would have been laughing her ass off at the sight of the brother in front of me. I only played poker a few times with her but I knew she was good at it, or at least she is good at leading people on, meaning that I'm sure she would have won against those three men. 

But she was not here.

I was. 

I was the one who was forced to work with these three men. In some way, I was happy that she was not here because it meant she was safely tucked away, not forced to partake in this show-off of a lifestyle. In all honesty, I never really wondered if I would ever get used to this, but I think it should not be too hard to start to like luxury. I deserved it. I had worked my part so I deserved that, the money, the fancy restaurants, everything—even better: they owed it to me for ruining my life. 

Maybe I couldn't really say that they ruined my life because I couldn’t really blame them for all of this; after all, it all started with Hanma, and I wanted to thank him for coming into my life because he made me happy. So maybe they just owed me for traumatizing me and for making me kill people—ah, and also for ruining any chances I had at being a good person? 

I paused my train of thought.

Or maybe they didn't owe me anything… maybe I enjoyed this way too much for it to be a punishment, to be something I regretted.

Enjoyed it? 

I did.

I did enjoy this.

I enjoyed having them look at me annoyedly. I enjoyed them making me think I was not worth anything, because if they thought that, it only pushed me to go further and further—it only pushed me to break the limits, to show them what I could do, to show them I can be like them.

I could be worse than them.

Yeah, I could be worse than them, but even then, being worse than them would be the moment they would consider me as merely an equal. Which was funny, I suppose. That even if I was smarter, or more than them on any level, I would only be considered at best an equal. Never better. So I will become smarter, I will become more efficient, I will become something that Mikey can rely on, because the moment he relied on me, I would be worth something. 

The pieces were coming together.

It was not the time for me to be thinking about this. It had only been a few seconds since I was lost in thought, but I was still gauging the situation. Losing or winning did not matter, what did matter was seeing Rindou pissed off. What also mattered was seeing all these men turn angry upon losing against someone who had barely played this game, even better, to know that they had lost to a woman.

The expressions that would adorn their faces would be so beautiful.

Rindou looked at me and smiled as he said, “Raise.”

He was quite fast to collect himself, but so was I. He could be bluffing, I believed he was, and I trusted the cards I had in hand. Rindou shook his head, “No, not raise. All in.” The look on his face was the one of a maniac, nothing like even the one Sanzu would often bear, and I would have been scared of losing, potentially, had Rindou not been acting.

I could be wrong. He could be bluffing, but I only had one option, so I followed my gut. Mimicking him, I pushed my chips forward at the center of the table and held his gaze before giving him a small smile, “All in it is!”

His eyes widened, had he expected me to fold? Let me laugh. All that was now left was to show our cards and I did so with pride and arrogance—Rindou’s hand was nothing like mine, he had lost.

Wrapping my arms around the chips, I gave him a short bow, “Thank you for this very entertaining game, I would assume everything will be taken care of and I won’t need to do shit, yes?” I asked, addressing the men around the table, dealer included. The men I knew personally seemed bothered, because of course, had Rindou won, they would have been ecstatic. Instead, I earned some eye rolls and disdain.

Rindou stood up and grabbed his vest, looking back at me with a short grin as he said, “Well then! Let’s go? I think our girl had some plans—but hey, since you just received your first big money, you’re going to pay for your plans, okay?”

The dealer left with everything, some people helping him carry it all as we stood up. I heard Sanzu mutter something to Ran and turned around to see he had bent to the tray once more for more rails of coke. Catching me glancing at them, they raised a brow and pointed at the tray, then at me.

Did I want more? The effects I felt had long since dissipated, but…

Do you really want to anger him? He told you specifically not to do those things.

Why did it matter? He should be mad, I wanted him mad, filled with so much pent-up anger that he would need an outlet for it all, and I would be that for him.

A short nod is what I gave them before leaning in and sniffing a badly done line. I felt a hand on my head as I did so. A gentle ruffle from the hand that remained on top of my head as I straightened my back, then I heard Rindou say, “Good girl, see, you can have fun.”

Quickly, I slapped his hand away and gave him a side glance, “Yeah, don’t do that. Thank you.”

“I have plans, if any of you care.” I said once we were outside the club and ready for the night to continue. Ran sighed loudly, “Why do you think we’re outside? Just talk.”

Excited, I grinned and pointed at the four of us in a circle, “We are going to have a challenge, each other—”

“You’re the most challenged, Rin, you won, what’s next?” Ran said, taking a drag from his cigarette, the hint of a smirk in the corner of his lips. His brother did not hold back when punching him, both of them laughing in the aftermath while Ran finished smoking and stepping on the butt he had dropped on the ground. “Rin-rin, you’re dead.” He laughed, blood trickling from his nose.

Sanzu stepping between them was enough to deter both brothers who laughed even more upon having to be stopped. Somehow, their laughter was contagious and I found myself holding back a smile as I continued, “We’re going to have to find more coke—or any drugs for that matter, the organic way, okay?” They seemed confused, so I gestured for them to wait a moment as I found a better way to express myself. I started pointing my fingers one by one as I said, “You all have a reputation, we are going to be lowkey tonight, without going to people or selling spots you know. We are going to have to get our hands on something.”

They seemed intrigued, so I continued, “So we will call each other, cameras on, once we get the goods. The first one to get their hands on something wins.”

Sanzu chuckled, “Yeah? And what’s the prize?”

Shushing him, I added, “Wait, wait. Rule also is you only have a 5-block radius, we know this area is super fancy so you’re bound to find some shit.” I paused and smiled, “The prize is… huh, it’s–”

Rin wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “I think it’s fun enough like this, if a prize is needed we’ll claim it, don’t you worry.”

“Okay?” I slid away from his grasp and gestured for them to pull out their phones, “Rindou, can you create a group chat real quick? It’ll be better for when we do find it—you’re fast, damn.” I muttered the last part under my breath when I received the notification of the new conversation that had popped on my screen.

“Alright, we split, bye.” I quickly said before walking away not fast enough to look suspicious, but fast enough to feel embarrassed about it, at least to some extent. The neighborhood was familiar, the moment we turned into the street in Rindou’s car I had recognized it, so I rushed to a place where I was sure to find sellers. It felt wrong to be back at that place after all this time—ever since that Halloween I hadn’t returned here.

The almost rape that had happened by that asshole of a cope, or the weird moment I had had at the time with Hanma in the alley, both seemed to be valid reasons to avoid this place. I suppose also when the cops brought me to the hospital thinking Shuusuke was my boyfriend and that I cared. Maybe that was one of the turning points.

All of these seemed good enough to argue my lack of return here.

What ultimately tossed these to the side for now was my need to show off and to belong. So, with a newfound confidence, I straightened my back and stepped inside the building only to get stopped by security. Taking a deep breath, I gave the man a slow once-over and met him dead in the eyes, “Not to flash you or anything, but–” I was about to show him my tattoo when a hand interrupted me and Ran’s voice rang, “She’s with me.”

The guard let us pass and I almost stomped away from Ran, had it not been for him grabbing my arm. “Come on, crazy frog, you were speeding down that path so fast I almost didn’t catch you. You don’t have to run like that.” He said with a smirk.

“I do believe this is a competition,” I snatched my arm from his hand, “Thank you for helping me get in, you really, really didn’t have to.”

He raised both his hands in fake defense and laughed, “Shit, you’re mad, I wonder what that’ll look like—you know, if when you’re desperate you drug people, then if you’re mad, what? You’ll kill ‘em?”

“I would have laughed, I swear, I just missed the cue.” I stated with a straight expression.

He stared me dead in the eyes, silent, the music blasting in the background being the sole thing we could hear. Then he huffed a laugh. Small, but noticeable. I matched it then looked around, maybe proud that he had let me in a little after all the time I’d spent trying to get back on his semi-good side.

“You can un-leech yourself from me now, I’ll do my thing, you do yours–” I started before two guys stood up from the bar and made their way towards us. Had my mind not been ringing an alarm bell upon seeing their faces, I would have been laughing at how comical they looked, one walking much faster than the other while the calmer one tried to hold him back. But why did they seem familiar? My entourage was rather limited, and I hardly could imagine I knew anyone from work that would hang around these parts.

Work—it was about work, the dots were connecting, but not fast enough. The angrier man tried to swing at me, only for Ran to grab his arm and knee it at the elbow. Before he could scream in pain, Ran covered the man’s mouth. Two security guards were instantly at our side, grabbing the second man and following the Haitani brother as he dragged his struggling victim out of sight.

I couldn’t hear anything of what these two strangers were saying, but Ran met my gaze and gestured for me to follow him. I don’t know why, but I did it without a second thought, maybe because my mind was still scanning for any flash of remembrance about these two men. As we crossed the main room to reach a back one, I was lost in thought.

Work—two men, why would they be angry? Why would they be here? Nothing specific happened at this date ever, it was not an anniversary of anything. No, something must have happened at some point. Work… here… last time these two places were connected, I was here with–

Me! I’m sure you’re coming to the conclusion fast enough.

Closing my eyes for a moment to compose myself, I followed Ran through the crowd, ignoring her. Halloween night? Dread filled me in an instant. That night, it had been Rai, her boyfriend Kei, Shiho who had long since slipped away and met Sanzu for the very first time—I was there too, and a random man that had so little impact on the night, I had forgotten about him. I couldn’t picture his face, I had barely glanced at him. This was not the moment for that, I needed to remember if it was him.

Not enough time was allowed for me to think further than that as Ran grabbed my arm and dragged me inside a room, grumbling something under his breath before slamming the door shut and letting out a loud sigh. “Usually I’d let our men take care of two shit-stirrers like you, but this is deeper than that—you are tied to her, right?” He said, pointing at me, a huge grin on his face.

“I didn’t do shit, don’t point fingers at me.” I stated in annoyance while all too aware that one of these men was familiar.

The angry one seemed ticked off by my words as he laughed maniacally, his hand reaching for the gun at his waist before his friend stopped him. I did not have my gun, and Ran seemed unreactive or not scared enough to care, so I thanked the man, “Keep your friend in check, I have no idea what he is talking about.”

“Oh yeah, of course, of course you don’t—yes you fucking do! Shuusuke, Kei, you know them! I don’t have enough proof yet, but you’re the one responsible for all of it!”

And maybe I shouldn’t have spoken the following thoughts out loud, maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but I did not. Instead I shook my head, “Credit where credit goes, I sure took care of officer Hansuke, but Kei was not my dutiful work.”

Before a silence could settle I gasped, “You’re Aoto! I think Rai mentioned you somehow at some point too, she said you would easily get angry but hmm—he has a good heart, very reliable.” I said. Ran looked at me strangely for a second and not any longer, if anything he was giving me the floor to deal with the situation so I did. I looked around the room, trying to find any weapon and I wondered why there were close to none. It seemed stupid, but when I walked past the men, for some reason I knew Aoto would not grab me. He didn’t, he seemed too confused. His composure had long since dissolved, perhaps since the moment he had seen me enter the club.

Rummaging through the desk in the room, I kept talking, “But the big fella I don’t know—not that it matters, I think my question is why are you both here?” There it is.

Aoto replied, “For payback.”

Without thinking, I clicked my tongue against my teeth and gave them both a grimace as I closed the drawers and shook my head, “Now that’s a bit silly, don’t you think Ran?” I asked, watching his bored expression lock on my face as he blinked slowly before leaning against one of the shelves and crossing his arms. Giving me a smirk, he mimicked zipping his mouth shut, tilting his head to the side before extending his hand forward in a welcoming manner, as if to tell me to do this on my own, to do as I pleased.

Was he lazy or did he trust me?

Was it a test or was I finally being valued?

“Ouchie, now that is bad for both of you. I usually confer with someone before acting, but if it’s just me—I’ll give you my two cents, okay?” I asked lightly.

Aoto, who was still standing, suddenly rushed towards me, “I don’t fucking care, you killed them both–” Sharp. Not enough. It did the trick, though. One, two, three droplets on the floor and it wasn’t stopping. I could feel the blood dripping down the scissors and onto my fingers. As I tried to shove them further inside his stomach, my fingers felt around the wound and my eyes widened.

“What if I did this?” I breathed out. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Ran keeping the taller man back from coming towards me and even within the few seconds of our gazes locking, I hoped he had understood I was thanking him. If I did not have to worry about the other one, I could do whatever with Aoto. And I did—pulling the scissors out, I shoved my fingers inside the two holes and pressed hard, making him grimace as he bent over in pain, screaming, swearing and grunting.

It was so fascinating to see how I could make him feel more pain than sharp metal inside his body.

Humming, I waited a few seconds then leaned over to his ear and asked, “When’s payback starting?” Before he could react, I had pulled back and kneed him in the nose, “From what I understand, you’re a loose string, Mister Aoto—and I don’t like that much, I cut my loose strings.”

He let out a pained scoff, “We’re close to getting the camera feed back from the hospital, you’re going down–”

Swift, rough. Efficient.

The closed pair of scissors entered from under his chin and came out from his open mouth as blood poured in a steady stream from it, eyes wide in horror.

“Not to mansplain or anything, but you already told me all that I needed to know, so why would I keep you alive? That was a big mistake on your part and…” I tossed the scissors on the floor before pushing him down. He fell with a mute thud as his friend was still being held back, Ran’s hand clasped on his mouth. “And I think we can blame this on your being hysterical, you know? You came for me, all angry, you let your emotions take control, that was embarrassing—your friend tried to keep you in check, but…” I continued with a tense smile to the tall man that was pleading with his eyes. My gaze flickered from the body on the floor to the weapon, to my bloody hands—what have I done?

Suddenly, I was speaking more, “But your friend should die too, he saw too much and you know how it goes—the more witnesses, the more they might have this hero complex and want to take justice in their own hands.” I paused and grabbed the scissors back from the floor, “We don’t want that.” Seeing the stains on the floor, I felt sorry for whoever would have to clean this up later, but I was quick to focus back on the restrained man in the room.

“Picture me giving you a big speech, I don’t really want to do that right now. Plus, who knows, maybe you’re bugged–” 

The man interrupted me in a soft tone, “Thank you.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and glanced at Ran in confusion. He shrugged in response.

“Aoto would come here every night, hoping he would see you again or the other girls that were there with you–” He choked on some tears and gave me a huge smile, “You ruined him, you know? I lost him that night—when you sent Shuusuke to the hospital.” 

Interrupting him in return, I gripped his jaw tight, “I did not do that, I accompanied him there. Get your facts straight,” Laughing, I dug my fingers further inside his cheeks and never unlocked my gaze from his, “And it was well deserved too. Seems like those who enforce the law are the most unresponsive to it, don’t you think?”

I took a few steps back and put the back of my hand on my forehead dramatically, “No, please stop!” Then met his gaze, “So he continued.”

“No to racism!” I mimicked someone holding a sign then met his gaze, “And yet they’re so fucking keen on beating up people a different skin tone than them!”

About to continue my point, I stopped and watched as Ran snapped the man’s neck without thinking much about it and dropped him on the floor, giving me a weirded out look, “That was embarrassing to watch, maybe don’t do theatrics like that. What would you do if the last thing you saw was a bitch giving you the whole ‘all cops are bad’ speech?”

Slowly, Ran sat down and I followed his movements by sliding into one of the seats myself, letting out a long sigh. “You’re right.”

He smiled proudly and I immediately added, “Which I will only say this one time—the moment he mentioned Shiho and Rai, I guess I took it personally and–”

Our phones rang at the same time, cutting me off in my rant that I realized was not aimed at the right person. If I had to talk about this with someone it would be Shiho or Hanma, why was I trying to talk about my feelings to Ran Haitani out of everyone in this world? I let out a scoff and grabbed my phone, pulling myself together just from that.

“Ah, so he renamed the group chat—Team Rindou?”

Ran laughed loudly as he exclaimed, “Yeah, fucker was fast to get his hands on some shit—not just any good stuff.” He trailed off, zooming on the picture Rindou had sent in the groupchat, a woman in his lap as he dangled a little pack of powder in front of the camera. The picture that followed was with all the other different drugs on a table, probably a party he had managed to get invited to—no, it was not just any party.

“Dude, he for real is in the main room. That’s the table of this place, that’s–” I stood up and opened the door to see him in the corner of the room with a few girls around him, “I guess we all had the same idea.” I muttered under my breath.

A text popped on the screen as Sanzu told us he was on his way here since he was not going to stay in the streets if the game was over. It was getting late, so I was confused as to why he was not just going back home, but I followed along as Ran pushed me out of the room, his hand on my lower back. I quickly shoved it away, feeling the touch so foreign on my body that it made me feel unsafe. Jokingly, I said, “Get your dirty hands off me.” 

To which he countered, “Look at your own hands then say that again, yeah?”

“You don’t like my aesthetic?” I asked comically.

He gave me a weird look, “Just go wash your hands and keep your mouth shut, it’s insane how much you talk for jack shit.”

With a roll of my eyes, I left his side and got to the bathroom where a few women were already queuing. Waiting at the end of the line, I felt the warm air coming from behind—from the alleyway where so much had happened almost two years ago. I held back from looking that way, knowing it would not help with my current state but when I heard my name being called, I could not help but look over at the open door. 

The sound was repeated.

Almost like a whisper.

Not a whisper, no… a pained moan.

Don’t go looking for it. Shit, I was exhausted.

“Are you waiting too?” I heard someone ask, bringing me back from my lost thoughts.

Nodding, I quickly stepped ahead, noticing the queue was gone, and entered the bathroom.

The light was too bright, and the dull buzzing of the music did not help one bit with the growing headache I now realized I had. Blinking slowly, I watched my reflection and squinted to see what was on my face—I leaned over a bit and noticed a few droplets of blood on my forehead. Making a grossed-out expression, I dunked my hands under the water and scrubbed them clean before doing the same on my face. I couldn’t be more grateful for the other women in the restroom that were chatting loud enough to drown out any upcoming thoughts. 

It was almost nostalgic.

Like that fateful night, the one where everything started to go downhill. Were there any signs that I was going to go this far for him? So far that all I could do now was live for him? I chuckled to myself, daydreaming as I pictured our time in this bathroom with Shiho and the girls.

The girls, Aiko and Rai were more closed off to all of this, but they were trying to have fun. Rai was the one who was trying to pretty herself up for that cop, she wanted to flirt more and have him as hers. Shiho had tried her best to hype her up, but with the little confidence Rai had, I’m not sure it–

Are you done?

I huffed a laugh, I was not even allowed to remember the good times. She would make sure of that.

I said, are you done?

Turning around to look at Rai, I rolled my eyes, “Why is it that the moment I’m alone you talk to me? I said get the fuck out of my head!” I went to push her, expecting her to disappear but as I did, and felt my hands hitting shoulders, her face changed into that of a stranger who was in shock—I immediately stepped back and apologized, “Shit, sorry. No, I didn’t mean it, I–”

“Damn, I just needed to use the sink, girl, you’ve been at it for 10 minutes?!” She exclaimed, shoving me aside in annoyance as she went about her life. Mumbling another apology, I rushed out of the room after drying my hands and shook my head, in disbelief of what I had done. To try to forget about whatever happened, I pushed my way to where I found the three men sitting. Sanzu scooted to the side a bit to make some room for me to sit between him and Rindou, patting the seat, with Ran sat next to his brother. The scarred man had his arms on the back of the couch spread wide, imposingly, sending the message he would not be bothered tonight and that no one should come by. They looked cozy like this, almost as if they were winding down in a big group hug on this couch and they were, for some reason, inviting me in. 

“What did you do with the girl you were hooking up with, Rindou?” I asked, leaning back and getting grounded in the surroundings, starting the conversation somehow.

“She’s not dead, that’s for sure.” He said, making everyone laugh, then added, “All good things come to an end, unfortunately, I gave her my number, she had to go home.” He moved his phone towards me and mumbled something about needing us all to take a quick pic. Once we did, he sighed dramatically, his head hitting the back of the seat with a breathy laugh. Looking at his phone, Sanzu let out a dry laugh and pushed the device in my hands, showing me a text that read ‘Where are you, I’m picking her up.’ He then proceeded to type while talking, “Looks like you’re past curfew, little girl.”

“It’s whatever.” I sounded exactly as he had put it, like a child. Throwing a tantrum and pissed off at Hanma. Before any of them could speak, I was outraged and let my head hit the back of the seat and fit into the crook of Sanzu’s arm too; looking at the dangling light on the ceiling, I ran my hands through my hair and let out a long sigh, “I don’t want to see him after he tried to make me jealous like that—with a hooker?!”

Ran was the first to speak, “Ain’t that your shit, though? Both messed up with weird ways of flirting.”

I scoffed, “I just don’t get it, is he insecure or something cause I keep receiving weird advances and–”

Rindou tilted his head to the side to try to give me a weirded out look, “Are you saying ‘God, everybody wants me, it’s so hard’?”

My face heated up for a moment. Ran had wanted me. Rindou kept being flirtatious, for a while I thought even Koko could be into me too—was I being… “Yeah, you’re delusional.” Ran stated.

“Fact of the matter is, no one wants you. No one wants him either. I’m sure none of us have any idea why you are both so possessive over each other.” Sanzu explained, both brothers nodding along. Rindou was close to adding something that his brother did not like, receiving a half-slap, half-hit in the stomach to silence him. Humming, I took in their words but was not sure I agreed fully, although if they all thought it, they couldn’t be wrong.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and was starting to get lulled to sleep by the loud music of the club, “Hookers flirt with him, women turn on the streets to look at him–”

Ran interrupted me, “Hookers liking him says a lot about you, if you ask me.”

“Remind me real quick what’s the name of your girl—you know, the one that works in–” Rindou started.

Ran hit him again, grabbing his shirt this time as he stood up and pulled him along, “Get her name out of your mouth Rin, this is nobody’s business.”

His brother grabbed his hand and got it off him, smirking as he shrugged, “I’m saying, it's a bit hypocritical to tell off Crazy here when you’re seeing a hooker yourself.”

“And the tattoos are a sure way to get people to look at him, he also looks too tall for this country. Man’s a freak. Don’t think you gotta worry about people looking for that reason.” Sanzu added, finally letting go of his phone. I managed to get a glimpse of Shiho’s face on the contact photo. It took me a few seconds to take in their words properly, that’s when I huffed, not as much in offense as it was in the feeling of being called out. “And you’re almost as tall as him Ran, I’m saying…”

“Yeah, well, stay safe, I won’t come for you.” Ran said, throwing me a side glance before sitting back down.

“You stay safe, I am not into you.” I said, holding back from making incest jokes or talking about his height or tendencies since the two latter were in line with Hanma’s, or close to.

Hands clasping together brought our attention as Rindou stood up and grinned, “Beautiful! Friendships are blooming, we love to see it, but the big bad wolf is coming.” His eyes flicked with little discretion to his left as if to show us what he was talking about, we all leaned over and glanced, noticing Hanma making his way through the crowd, almost disinterestedly.

Almost was the key word since he seemed so determined, a determination fueled by anger or frustration, I was familiar with it. The cool he was portraying was just a mask. My heartbeat sped up as I made sure to stay seated and ignore his arrival, looking back at Rindou, “If I’m not at the Gala tomorrow, it’s ‘cause I’m dead, alright?”

“Dead by choking? Choking too hard on his–” He stopped dead in his tracks when Hanma hovered right behind him and made him stand aside. The younger Haitani did not stick around and rolled his eyes, bidding us farewell as he walked away from us. Ran was quick to try to follow, but Hanma stopped him, a hand on his chest as he moved in front of him, “You ever send shit like this to me again, you’re a dead Haitani.”

Ran smirked, “What, you didn’t like it? Thought this was your shit, dead body pics exchange and all. You really didn’t like it? Which part—was it that they were men?” He pulled out his phone and looked through the pictures that I couldn’t see, zooming on some before showing Hanma again, “Or that there is a huge smile on her face? Oh no, I get it!” He called my name, catching my attention then asked, “How fun was it to kill that man? With me?”

My eyes widened, locking on Hanma’s apologetically. I felt ashamed. As if I had cheated on him.

He had told him? When? The dots were connecting slowly—he had shared pictures of the entire thing with Hanma, it would explain his anger that should not have been so big for the little amount of texts I had sent him. Instinctively, I moved to Hanma’s side and tried to pry him away from Ran. I did not say anything because whatever I had to say would not help the situation. I had felt good killing the man because it was a useful thing to do, I had taken care of a loose end. I had quite some freedom doing so, but I couldn’t tell them I painfully wanted to kill the second man too, that Ran snapped his neck instead of letting me do it and I was almost… pissed that he took that from me.

“It was just a job, Shuji.” I whispered to him, hoping he would believe me. “It so happened he was there too.” I added.

Hanma smiled at Ran, “Have you checked on your girl recently?”

Ran’s face dropped.

“You know, while you were out with mine. I had some free time while waiting for her to return—which, mind you, she failed to do.” The latter part was for me. But I could only focus on the fact that he had gone to see Ran’s girl instead of directly coming to me. What had he done to her? For me? A message was sent to Ran, clearly, but there was one for me too in there. Ran’s was that he needed to stay in his lane, but it made no sense—nothing bad had happened, no flirting, nothing weird, it had been a job. A surprise one, one that was nowhere near planned, but that was needed nonetheless.

And if the issue was that I had enjoyed killing someone without him… I smiled to myself, had this been his way of spending time with me until now? His way of flirting—had he misinterpreted Ran’s motives as similar to his? My hand slid into Hanma’s, holding it tightly, I felt it being returned and became giddy.

With half a laugh of anger, half in disbelief, Ran grabbed Hanma’s collar and brought his face close, “You’re bluffing.”

Hanma then whispered what I assumed was her address then drawled, “So now, the question is not: is he bluffing? But… what has he done?” He then patted Ran’s shocked face condescendingly and sighed contently, “Which you’ll find out once you go there, so go, go!”

With ire on his face, Ran walked past Hanma only to be stopped dead in his tracks by him, “Oh, and remember!” Hanma said sweetly, “Don’t fuck with me again—not with her.”

Ran shrugged off the other’s hand in disbelief, eyeing the man with hatred, “You’re insane, I really can’t ever deal with your shit.” Then sped off.

With both the Haitanis gone, all that remained was Sanzu alongside Hanma and I.

Both men stared at each other in silence, an unspoken battle seemed to be happening or an argument of some sort, but there was no explanation at all. Only clenched jaws and tempers. I was unsure if they were not speaking due to the loud music or for other reasons, but it did not last—Hanma slightly leaned in, a semblance of a nod or a bow; I thought he would bid him farewell, but instead he locked eyes with Sanzu once more, “Next time you give her crack, you’re a dead man, pink eye.”

“Your insults are as low as she’ll be by the end of this freak show of a relationship you both have. Get out of my club, Stockholm piece of shit–”

“Big of you when your girl’s part of the competition of how low it’s gonna really get–” Before Hanma could even attempt to finish his taunt that was lost on me, Sanzu got up and had a knife against Hanma’s throat. I did not hold back the gasp that escaped my lips, nor the way my arms pulled the taller man out of the blade’s way while mumbling, “Enough, enough, we’re leaving.”

“What? No ‘this isn’t you, stop this Shuji!’” He mocked in a higher pitch voice, a slight smirk on his lips.

Meeting his eyes without any fear, I stated, “This is you, and this is him. I am aware, but I’d rather avoid bloodshed tonight. After all, we all gotta look stunning tomorrow, right?” I said in a lighter tone, looking over to placate Sanzu who was putting away the switchblade with a grumble as his eyes scanned the room. He then looked back at me, “Yeah, that reminds me, Shiho told me to tell you she’s huh—she’s going as…” He pulled up his phone and read out loud, “Slutty chic femme fatale trophy wife?” Turning the words into a question rather than a statement.

Nodding with a smile I said, “Did she say color coded?”

“Yeah, pink coded she said.”

“Noted! Tell her I’ll surprise her tomorrow night, see you both then!” I smiled while pushing Hanma away from him. This control I had over him only lasted until we were out of sight, that’s when he gripped my wrist tightly and led me through the crowd outside to his car. The feeling of the summer air and the quiet of the night felt so soothing when compared to the warmth of the club, but the calm could only last so long.

I was pressed with my back against the side of the car, a slender hand gripping my jaw tight to raise my head and meet his dead eyes, “Simple instructions, so fucking simple and you can’t even follow them?”

“Basic respect and you can’t even provide it?” I spat back, feeling the blood pumping through my veins in excitement. He seemed taken aback, so I continued, “Hookers here, hookers there, fair enough, you do that. Then I’m allowed to fuck around too, right? Or is only one of us allowed to play with the other’s insecurities?”

He did not respond. Instead he opened the door of the passenger seat and told me to get in, which I did only because I wanted to go home. 

The ride was painfully silent. No teasing, no jokes, not one glance stolen towards my person. I had nothing to be blamed for, if by acting like him I would have him mad at me, then he should best understand how I was feeling.

“Is this a love quarrel? Or are you just mad that I returned the favor? Only the favor was not to your taste, so now it’s my problem?” I was petty, I realized that. This was not proper communication, but I wanted him to speak to me, whatever it was. I could not stand the silence. Not from him. Not when he always had good comebacks, no matter the situation.

“I just thought we were past you acting like a douche and spending time with hookers—I get it, you need to get info, but I also know they’re putting their hands on you and that’s something only I’m allowed to do, you know?” I explained rapidly, trying to meet his gaze. His hands did not move from the steering wheel, his eyes never left the road, it’s as if he wasn’t hearing me.

“It was a coincidence that I had to kill these people with Ran, you know that. You don’t get to be mad at me for that. The job’s the job, Shuji. Do you not wish for me to be a part of Bonten?” A huff was all I received. No smile, no glances, a huff.

“Sulk all you want, you’re not allowed to be insecure. I get that you can’t choose how you feel because the brain is all sorts of things and logical isn’t part of it—but like—have you seen me?!” Far from me the idea of feeling ugly, this was not the point. This was deeper, “No one wants this, me, not when it has your fingerprints all over it. It’s used and broken, it’s shaped just for you, Shuji. No one is even glancing my way, alright?” He did not answer once more. Of course. He was having his tantrum on the side, and while maybe my communication was dreadful at the moment, I thought I was still making sense.

He remained silent even as he parked in front of the house.

Opening my door, he let me get out of the car and handed me the keys. I raised a brow in confusion at the chivalrous act of opening the car door for me and at the lack of comprehension of why he was handing me the keys.

Hesitantly, I unlocked the door and waited for him to follow me, but he remained at the entrance, his eyes defiant and gaze distant. 

“What are you waiting for, Shuji? I don’t understand what you’re doing.” I stated, getting more pissed off by the second with his little act as I took the keys from the keyhole.

“You tell me. You’re the one acting out, testing me. If you wanna be in control, take it. Cause you’re tryna understand shit that’s not there, psychoanalyzing me like a shrink.” He pointed towards the car with his thumb over his shoulder, “There is no insecurity. I just know better than you do, doll.” He took a step closer to now stand right in front of me, our chests touching, “But you’re so smart, you know stuff, right? You don’t need to be told shit, independent and all. So, order me around. See how it feels. Since you’re such a strong woman–”

I grabbed his necktie and pulled him down to my height, “Is this because of the drugs or cause I didn’t text every hour? Because I’m not unconscious, so that’s something I respected.” I explained, pulling him inside with me before shutting the door and locking it behind us, “Tell me you’re not mad I hung out with them and that you’re not jealous. Maybe I’ll trust you’re not insecure then.” Slowly I started undoing his vest, watching as his eyes darted to my lips then my hands, not stopping them as he smirked down at me.

“And, yeah, I’m a strong woman. I am. They didn’t do shit to me. It was even fun.” I leaned into his ear and breathed out, sliding my hand under his vest to take it off, leaving him with his shirt and tie, “I humiliated them at poker, you would have been proud of the looks I put on their faces.” Perhaps I pushed him too much since his hands slipped to my hips, holding me to the spot as he pulled me against him and pressed the side of his face to mine, whispering back, “Talking about other men to me is not a way to get me hard, try another technique, it’s embarrassing. Maybe you should let me take the lead.” He mocked.

The humiliation I felt sent electricity coursing through my body as its temperature rose a few degrees, it felt good. Something caught in my throat, he had thrown me off guard but I was determined now. I didn’t mean to take control in the first place, he knew that, but he had given me the reins for some reason. And my pride couldn’t take not doing it justice, not showing I could do just that. I pulled him with me then switched places and pushed him to the couch before taking off his tie and gesturing for him to hand me his wrists.

“In your dreams, doll. I don’t get tied–”

Interrupting him, I went to get his wrists, using the tie to bring them to me but as I did that, he gripped the fabric back and pulled me closer to him, his nose brushing against mine, “I said I don’t get tied. Do that again and you’re–”

So I did just that.

Smirking at him, I tried to wrap it around his hands, making him scoff as he grabbed my wrists and dragged himself off the couch before forcing me on my back. He was half straddling me, balancing himself with one knee on the couch and a foot on the floor, “So that’s what this is.” He said in realization, grinning like a maniac, “Glad she’s dead, she says.” He mocked my words of earlier, a tone much higher than he would usually have if speaking normally, “I’ll fuck her out of you, she says.” He continued.

“Yet here she is, like a bunny caught by a wolf, shivering in anticipation, begging to be fucked.”

“How am I begging? Maybe I poked the bear one too many times, but I’m not a bunny. I am in no danger actually, so I’m not really a prey at all.” I stated, reaching for the buttons of his shirt to finish undressing him as he stared me dead in the eyes. This was threading fine lines, the man was keen on metaphors and I was ignoring them.

Gently, his hand wrapped around my throat, stilling me in my actions as his thumb pressed against the center of my neck dangerously, his lips grazing my cheek, “Of course. Not begging.” His nose brushed against my skin as his lips reached my ear, “Crying out for attention, hating how a hooker had my hands for one night. Hating how it threw you back to the beginning of all of this and for just a moment, you were back to being nothing to me.”

His words struck a chord.

“Cause your head’s a funny place. But who else would give me what I want?” Tilting my head back gently, his hand squeezed my throat perfectly, the blood starting to rush to my head as I looked him in the eyes, “Who else would be gripping my hand like this, wordlessly begging for me to choke her harder? Hm?” He asked sweetly, so sweet that I knew he was mocking me. He squeezed hard enough to have me gasping, digging my nails in his skin as I tried to tap his forearm, at which he immediately stopped.

“That’s exactly what you want, good, hard sex—but you were a complete bitch tonight.” His harsh words did not match with how delicately he took off my shirt, how he exposed my body to his observing eyes. Standing up, he got rid of all that covered my lower half then helped my legs over his shoulders, raising me from the couch so he could see my most embarrassing angle from up close. It seemed more intimate than ever, I tried to push his face away and said, “What are you doing?!”

He shoved my hand to the side and ran his tongue between my legs, “What you don’t want. Cause sadly, doll, you can’t always get what you want.” He pouted, sticking his tongue out wide theatrically before resuming what he was doing with passion. The way he was eating me out felt so good and familiar and yet strange. He would so rarely do this, how could my body crave it and my mind abhor it? The gentleness of his touch, how tender his hold was on my thighs, how soft his gaze was meeting my annoyed one—it was all unfamiliar and unsettling. 

“Bite me.” I gritted through my teeth, trying to guide his head to my inner thigh and his intentions towards the right mood. He laughed between my legs and slowly looked up with a pleading look, “Did I hear you right? Are you telling me what to do? I thought we both understood I knew better–”

Gripping a fistful of his hair, I tilted his head to the side. Before I could say anything, he unhooked my hand and scoffed dryly before getting up and sighing, “You’re a fucking pain tonight—my doll wants attention, but nothing is good enough, it seems.” I heard him opening a drawer, but did not move from my spot on the couch. I only listened. “Which makes you wonder, should she have the choice of what she’s getting tonight?” He grabbed something, then slowly stepped back towards me, “The answer’s no.”

A zipping sound. Then I felt him grab my hands as he dragged me off the couch and to my knees, bringing my wrists behind my back and tying them with cable ties. “As I was fucking saying…” He tilted my head back with his index finger, looking at my exposed body then brushing my hair back, “It’s going to be so fucking soft tonight, you’re going to be begging for me to forgive your little act out there. You know I have to teach you manners, right?”

I hated that he wanted to make this gentle, it was insane, it was boring. I couldn’t help but be curious of what it would be like—normal sex—and how long he would hold on before growing impatient with it all. So I smirked, “The floor isn’t very comfortable, your little ‘acting normal’ gig is starting off on the wrong foot.” With that he laughed and helped me to my feet before guiding me upstairs and pushing me to the bed, forcing me on my back by grabbing my ankles tight. It was much more thrilling like that, the roughness, the force—so I laughed giddily.

He was taken by surprise and rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips before he took off his shirt, “Glad this makes you laugh, ‘least one of us gotta.” He stated as he knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed my foot, kissing my ankle while holding the other down when I tried to kick him away. His touches were sweet, loving, he had closed his eyes in the moment as he left a trail of kisses up my leg, making me gasp and hold back a giggle at the strange gesture. His hand was stroking my skin and was following the path his lips did, higher and higher, so slowly that I tried to reach for his face only to be reminded my hands were tied behind my back. “No hurry, really. Take your time.” I said dryly, letting my head lull back when he gently, playfully, dug his teeth in my skin to tease.

“I’m planning on it.” He said, looking up at me, “I could lose you at any point now–” he paused and brought my knees around his face as he kissed one of them, his cold hands making the hairs stand all over my body at the temperature clash, “You’re making the choice of going out there, with assholes that can’t comprehend this—you.” His kisses reached the lower part of my stomach, he held my legs and hooked them around his waist as he trailed his tongue up and reached my breast, “They wouldn’t think twice if the choice was their life or yours.”

The words caught in my throat, I had no witty comeback, just confusion. Why did he care about them? About what could happen to me, when he had been the one to bring me to this lifestyle. It was only now that I was growing my own wings that he was growing hesitant, wary. “They’re not your friends, they don’t give a shit, you have to understand that.” His hands slid up from my knees to under my back as he dragged me against him, closer, before letting his hands roam even higher. It was almost as if he was hugging me, his lips warm against my chest, his breath the sole contrast to the boiling anger that was building in my body.

Why was he trying to tear me down?

Did he not wish for me to be a part of this? After all we went through to have me recognized as a semblance of something?

Nothing seemed right for him, why was he acting like this?

“Because you’re mine. I brought you into this, and now, no matter what, they won’t see you as anything. Do the same to them.” He breathed against my skin, it felt childish. Like he was having a tantrum, and part of me liked it; his possessiveness, his jealousy of others, my heart almost reached for his for how protective he was. But the stronger part of me felt… grossed out.

Calling out his name, I shook my head, “It’s always like this, ‘no, doll, don’t go with them. Doll, don’t make friends. Doll, don’t do this.’” I mimicked. I couldn’t push him away, so instead I rolled my eyes before closing them, “Do you hear yourself? You brought me in this fucking mess, Shuji. Now that you don’t have full control over what happens, you’re trying to put me in a cage?” His head, which was almost resting between my breasts, lifted up to meet my face above me. He looked right through me and sorrow seemed to adorn his gaze. It didn’t make sense.

“Don’t act like you care, Shuji. That’s not what this is, not what we are.”

The confusion did not lessen when his lips met mine softly, his fingers gently trailing down my stomach. Before I realized it, I felt them enter me and moaned in surprise, he smiled against my lips. “Don’t I?” Care. He pecked my lips again, “Isn’t it?” What this is. Then the kiss deepened, I don’t know why I kissed him back, this was wrong. This—this was not how we showed our love, this was unfair. My heart was beating fast, begging for more of this tenderness but my brain could feel how strange this all was.

“You don’t realize the shit I did for you,” He sighed between our kisses before freeing his cock, out of breath, as his free hand held my cheek while the other guided himself inside me, “I brought you in this ‘cause–” We both grunted at the new sensation, how good he felt but how unwelcomed it all was, it did not feel like him. It did not feel like me. “We made each other—and time won’t do us apart, I can promise you that.” It did not feel like a justification of his actions, but I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. It all felt so intimate and vulnerable, I had never seen him like this, and yet it did not feel like he was talking to me.

Our breaths were merging into one as his lips kept grazing mine at each trust, each of the moans escaping was another show of how our bodies were made for one another, as he put it, but my mind… my mind was somewhere else. 

Closing my eyes to try to enjoy this stranger fucking me, my mouth started forming words, “Don’t you think it’s too late for that?” Why had I said that? Was it because in my mind I was already detached from him? Or was it because the damage he had done to me was not something that could be fixed?

His thrusts quickened, both his hands holding my head still as his forehead rested against mine, “Then I’ll try again—I don’t fucking care how many times—I have to try.” He stuttered between breaths, I felt myself smiling while blinking tears away. I didn’t know why I was crying, nor why I was smiling but his words were somehow comforting.

“Always so determined, Shuji.” I breathed out, hooking my legs behind his as I felt myself getting closer and closer. He chuckled, “You know me better than anyone, babe.” His thrusts stopped, his cock still inside me as he shivered a breath of relief before reaching a hand between us, gently rubbing circles to help me finish. An action he had never done before. I was sure my wrists were irritated from how much I was struggling against the zip ties behind my back, probably digging into my skin. My back arched against him, this was too unfamiliar. I muttered some pleas, telling him I was close like a mantra; I wasn’t even sure he knew what I was saying, but he laughed softly, “There’s my girl, come on, you know you want to give into it—shit, I can feel your grip on my dick, come on, give it to me–” He let out a shaky breath as his thumb played skillfully with my clit. Lazily, he resumed thrusting inside me.

I shook my head, “No, no, don’t—I don’t want to—this isn’t good.” I whined, trying to hold back from cumming. My breathing was uneven and the moans escaping my lips were exactly what he wanted to hear, from the growing smile I could catch on his face while my vision was fading to white. “Shu, I don’t–” the pleading only drove him to make me reach my climax, which I did with a loud whine of relief. He pulled out and used his shirt to wipe me clean before grabbing a blade from a drawer and helping me to the side, cutting the zip tie to free my wrists.

Immediately, I sat up and gave him a strange look, “What’s next, are you going to bring me water now? What the fuck was that?”

“You complain so much, and for what? You didn’t enjoy it, I told you it was a punishment, didn’t I?” Suddenly, all the intimacy from earlier was gone. He was not meeting my eyes, instead he was looking around the wardrobe for fresh clothes, grabbing some for me too. “I picked out your dress for tomorrow, this is a big event so you can’t slut out like your girl wants you to.” He explained dryly, not liking Shiho’s description of her outfit. He was not answering my question of earlier, he was not clearing up my confusion of who was this man that just fucked me because it was not the Hanma Shuji I knew.

“Dressing up your doll, are you?” I whispered, standing up on wobbly legs, only for him to hold me by the bicep as he looked down at me with mischief, a particular look I had not seen yet on him. One that was not something I should have been wary of, in theory, which is exactly why I feared it, “Something like that. Can’t let my girl look debauched—that’s just for me.” He scoffed.

I chuckled, slowly recognizing him again, but still a little shaken.

“Well, can I at least see the dress?” I asked, trying to look inside the wardrobe. He moved in front of me as he tossed our clothes on the bed and held me with one hand on my hip, the other tilting my chin up, “Yeah, of course. Tomorrow. I told the girl your measurements,” He looked down at my chest and pressed a finger on my tattoo, “said we needed to see this, and it had to be elegant.” His nose brushed against mine, his lips were complete ghosts on my mouth, “The rest is up to her, she made the dress you ruined that night at the cemetery—do you recall, little Alice?”

Feeling nostalgia from that time, I genuinely smiled and pecked his lips, remembering the thrill of that night, “That was kind of cringe, you were more of a Cheshire Cat than a Mad Hatter—still are.” I said playfully.

He kissed me in annoyance, “You said that last time, but we don’t fuck cats here, babe.” He joked, making me laugh as I pushed him playfully, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” He asked with a smirk, walking back and letting go of me as he grabbed our clothes and was ready to shower, “Come, I’m not staying awake any longer. Tomorrow’s gonna be… eventful.” He trailed off, suspiciously so. Following him, I took a look at his back tattoo and placed my hand on it, slowly trailing it all over, “Shibata’s going to be everywhere, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, odds are they’re gonna try to ambush us or something.” He explained offhandedly.

I sighed, “Can we kill them if they come for us? What’s the agreement between Bonten and Shibata?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked, because he didn’t want me like that. He hated how analytical I was now, facing all of these problems. He hated that I was now just like him, so I quickly added, “Just so I don’t mess up! I feel like they might come for me—you know, because you’re important to Bonten.” I smiled softly, my hands sliding around to hold him from behind as they rested on his stomach.

He unhooked them and turned around, looking at me unbothered, “You stick to me. If they gotta die, I’ll do it. It’s that simple.”

I held back from telling him it was stupid, that I should be able to hold my own ground and roam around without him, but debating that was useless. I would just leave his side at some point, he might not realize it, or he might; if he did, he would come looking for me all angry and—I felt myself smiling stupidly, making him raise a brow, “What’s funny?”

“You’re right, I should stay by your side.” Should, not will do.

I added, “It’s safer.” But what does safe even mean with all the criminals surrounding us?

I smiled and nipped at his jaw, “Like Bonnie and Clyde, criminal couple–”

He pushed my face and rolled his eyes, “Ain’t that worse than Alice and the Mad Hatter? Come on, get in.”

I laughed at that but my mind was not really in the moment. While we showered, I was just thinking of the odds that I would come across a Shibata.

And how bad it would be if they were triggered enough by some things, as to come for me.

And how easy it would be to kill them, with the right incentives.

I simply had to find the right occasion, because neither Mikey nor Hanma needed to know I wanted to kill. All they needed was a justification.

I could make something up.

As we got in bed, I whispered in the dark to Hanma, “Tomorrow’s going to be fun, I’m sure of it.”

[To be continued]

[emily-explains]

Just finished Inside man on netflix. I was excited to watch it because I love mysteries and David Tennant, or rather I was excited to watch until I saw that it was by Steven Moffat. When I realised that I was interested but nervous. Moffat in my experience (and in the observations of others) is great at concepts and terrible at execution.

Inside Man was the same story - the concept a good man turns violent due to an untenable situation and ‘everyone can be a murderer it just takes a good reason and a bad day’ is interesting but the show itself hinges on an initial plot hole and ongoing ridiculous writing that has always been an issue

Spoilers below the cut

First the initial plot hole - the misunderstanding that sets the whole thing in motion is that Janice finds what she thinks is Ben’s CSEM on a USB. She then doesn’t believe Ben’s father when he tries to explain that it isn’t Ben’s but rather a troubled man from his church (or even the father’s himself as he tries to tell a more believable lie in lieu of the unbelievable truth.) However, Janice was handed that USB by Ben himself, its insane that a woman as clever as Janice (and she is clever the rest of the show - successfully manipulating her captors into making mistakes) would assume and then unshakeably believe that the teen boy who casually handed her a USB full of CSEM was aware that the “porn” on the usb was that kind of porn. It might have crossed her mind, but when she talked to the father there should have been more confusion, or she should have accepted the father’s believable lie that it was his USB and not his son’s. But  no that would have left room for normal adult discussion, and would have halted the plot. So in order for the plot to start a very clever woman must be incredibly dumb for the 15 minutes it takes for her to find CSEM and then end up imprisoned in the cellar.

Second the ridiculous writing - it’s present in a couple of things - the fact that a freelance journalist has enough resources to fly from the UK to the US to do an interview that may not even pan out into an article - she could have done that via video call (as we unrealistically see the Grier and the Vicar doing at the end of the series) but that would have meant that would couldn’t have her prove her worth (read: low-morals) to the death row detective that she is trying to interview by being his person on the ground to solve one of his cases. Which is something that does nothing in the plot but impress upon us just how smart Grier is (and just how dumb the journalist can be).

However it is mainly present in the way that Grier himself works - he is another example of one of Moffat’s leading men that mysteriously have control over the world and people in it with no logical explanation. I can accept that a criminal who was also a professor of criminology can solve crimes from his prison cell. What is ridiculous is that he seems to have devotees scattered around the world ready to put his every whim into action. Do serial killers get fangirls - yes, would this character if he was real have fangirls - probably BUT he would not have the resources to be mastermind whole espionage ordeals from his cell - even with “special” access to a phone. It reminds me of doctor who under Moffat where the doctor could win battles just by saying he was the doctor the most uber-special man in the universe. Or Sherlock that totally jumped the shark until it became an utterly ridiculous show down of very special men with their very special brains (oh and their very special sisters.)

The show would have been much better is Grier had been a bit more realistic - solving crimes in his cell without a network of devotees and his very special grasp on things, and if the Journalist had been a bit smarter and used her investigator journalist skills to locate Janice’s flat herself for example.

All in all and impressive acting from the whole cast a decently interesting concept and terrible execution (but then it is a Moffat show)

[gralunaisland]

pros always focus solely on the 'canon' part of certain gruvia moments. Ch 499 especially, they deliberately ignore how forced the scene is since gray & juvia have abilities that SHOULD allow them to escape. Instead they focus on the Japanese translations and go 'See it's canon! Gray loves Juvia!! Double suicide is used in Japan to show love!' Like yeah, congrats you got your canon via contrivances & poor writing, what a win.

The Double Gray and juvia Su*cide Was NOT Romantic

Ugh, I am feeeeling your salt right now, Anon.

"Congrats, you got your canon via contrivances and poor writing, what a win".

I am with you in the amount of sarcasm in this statement. Everything about gr///via is contrivances and poor writing, with an ample portion of toxicity and abuse to boot.

The stupid scene where Gray and juvia must perform a double su*cide is so dumb, I agree. To be completely honest, I never really pored over the scene, either in anime or manga, I just know generally what happens. So, if I get something wrong, someone feel free to correct me. But anyway, it's so dumb how juvia's OP power of being made of water is practically never used, especially for the sake of it being a gr///via plot point. juvia (I presume, I'm still unsure of the nature of the binding magic) should've been able to escape it by liquifying herself.

This isn't even the only time she hasn't used her power when she totally could've! Let's think back to her fight with Gray alllll the way back in the Phantom Lord arc, when she fell off the castle and was acting like she was going to die or some baloney. You're literally water; you hit water, you'll just turn into water, and you'll be fine. Idiot. Moron. Imbecile.

And my goodness, Pros who say "See it's canon! Gray loves juvia!" just because of the double su*cide thing are so grasping at straws because Gray has time and time again tried to sacrifice himself for his friends.

juvia isn't special.

Are Pros really going to pretend like if it was Natsu on the other end of that magic, or Lucy, or Erza, or heck even a supporting character like Max, that he wouldn't throw away his life for them in a heartbeat?

That's literally one of his main issues that he struggles with throughout the show that's literally addressed by other characters, how Gray needs to live for his friends, not to die for them. And then at the end of it, all Gray says is he'll take her feelings seriously for once so don't die instead of "Oh my gosh juvia I love you so much for no reason now."

Honestly, it's such a dumb, brain-dead plot point that presumably Gray starts to fall for juvia just because she killed herself for him. I've already addressed this better in another post of mine, but he didn't even decide to love her, he was just bargaining with her corpse out of misplaced guilt, and then was gaslit and manipulated into thinking these feelings of being indebted to her were feelings of love.

Also, their claims of “ha it’s canon” really do nothing for their ship. Canon≠Admirable ship, which I go through thoroughly in this post linked here.

Anyway, thank you so much for your insight, Anon. You brought up such good points! The double su*cide thing is far from romantic; it's just contrived and construed bs.

[sukibenders]

You and those two little bitter betty Edwina stan accounts “Kate was badly written 😤🤬😡🤢🤮” yet she’s one of the most loved, obsessed over, written about, talked about character on this show (the root of y’all’s problem with her lrt). Y’all just don’t like her, can’t bear that other people do and are incapable of keeping her out of your stinky ugly spiteful mean girl mouths. It be three dumb bitches telling each other exactly.

I don't know if you've heard, because it does happen in many fandoms, but a character can be beloved in many forms and still have the writers fumble their storyline or arc a little (eg. Bonnie from TVD, even though I love her as a character). Again, because this concept seems new to you, you can critique a character's actions and still enjoy them. Think about it, and I really want you to think: do you actually believe that Kate, who raised Edwina and read her fairytales and placed this idea of love in her head, would continue to go through with a wedding between her sister and Anthony, after he told her plain as day that he would not love her [Edwina] and would only think of Kate throughout, do you really think that Kate, putting aside her newly discovered feelings (bc she states that she hadn't realized her own by this point), would continue to push for a doomed wedding? It does not make sense, the show just wanted to keep unnecessary drama. But if you view that as something that Kate would do, then by all means, say that you understand her character more and just leave. It seems to be tricky for you, to critique and like a character at the same time, so if you can't do that and want to continue to be blissful about things, then do so and get off my page. Also, if I found Kate to be the "root of my problems" (nice choice of pulling something out of nowhere anon *hint: sarcasm*) then why would I constantly point out how she was done dirty in her own season, whether from promotional marketing or the way her storyline was changed (this is largely bc of the Featherington plot)? Why would I complain about her not having any storyline about how the loss of her parents impacted her? Like all these things I've talked about, and yet from the looks of it, since you seem to stalk my page, you couldn't find any of these multiple post but yet think you know everything about me from only one that also involves Edwina. Go off, I guess.

While Kate is a beloved character, she does have toxic fans, as any fictional character would and it definitely isn't her fault (largely because she is fictional, and also because, if she were real, probably wouldn't agree with some of you guys either tbh), and you would be the case in point. It's very funny that you come here through anon to attack me for something that, prior to the last statement above, isn't true or was simply contrived because you can't accept that a character can be liked and criticized, but sure, I'm the problem. You referring to me and other blogs, who I assume you've probably also filled their inboxes with hate---unless you have something better to do (I don't believe so) who also enjoy BOTH (bc you miss it a lot) Edwina AND Kate as "ugly, spiteful and mean" as well as "dumb bitches" but yet, sure, I'm the problem. I don't know, it's really seems as if you're the toxic one because at least I have the decency to not be a dick to others anonymously when, if there was a problem, I'd talk it up with them face to face (or where they can see my blog). But this seems like a common theme that you, and others like you, can't grasp, but yet myself and other Edwina fans, whose, again, pages you stalk but still come up short with information, flood our inboxes with hate and hurtful words.

What was it that you said again? Using the same words that you did in these regards, "It's like three dumb bitches telling each other exactly." Now, again, had you come here respectfully to talk and, I don't know, maybe not curse at me, we could of had a civil conversation where respect was shown both ways. However, I don't condone bullying actual people nor referring to myself or others as "bitches" and then being expected to give you anything cordial. I give what you give back. But still, have a nice day.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Writing Method: Rapid drafting.

This isn't where I go, if you don't use this method, you are dumb and how could you. Or where I say this will guarantee success. Or where I say something like, if you use this method, you're locked into it for eternity and how dare you try another method. Rather, through this I want to explore ways to write to get a result you want, that you might not be able to achieve otherwise. The key word in the previous sentence is *might* not "can't".

And BTW, this isn't the only way I write books/stories. I tend to go wherever the story tells me I need to go in that squishy flower girl mentality. And sometimes the story needs a strict outline, and sometimes the story needs milestones. And sometimes the story needs to be written forwards–whatever the story tells me to do, I obey it. Because it needs to be written somehow.

After being sick of reading all of those writing manuals that go, but I'm awesome because I invented this thing out of thin air... I'm going to give where I got it from and why. 'cause we are not brilliant in a vacuum. And also, maybe I'm in the camp of I'll be disbelieved because I'm not white straight abled male and Christian. (This is a joke you won't get unless you read the whole journey through story structure–I get it sounds bitter, but you would be too after reading such hatred directed towards people who were not those things).

Inspiration for the method

There are two key people I used to create this method: Patrick Rothfuss and NK Jemisin. Both through author interviews, IIRC on Writing Excuses. I often listen to author interviews to collect different ways people write.

Patrick Rothfuss has a go and back up methodology. So he says, if something isn't working, something isn't working probably back there and you need to rewrite to get past the writer's block instead of charge forward.

NK Jemisin's writing method kinda got mixed into this as well. She roughly outlined it both on I Should be Writing and Writing Excuses. Frankly, I don't remember which episodes and it was a while ago, but this should be enough on how to find it. She said she "versions" out the scenes and tries different things then picks the best one.

I know this will look a lot like Chuck Palahniuk's writing method, but I'm not as particular as he is, but it does take a lot of reading your previous work.

What is it?

It's Discovery writing writing it out for a while, until you get stuck at a certain point, then you re-read, back up to the point that was good and then you slice and dice the remainder in a rapid rewrite.

Instead of "Cut your darlings" It's condense your darlings into one immovable plot and cut all of the fluff in between and then make sure that what you have is solid enough emotionally, event-wise, character-wise, tone-wise, theme-wise, etc to be a good foundation for the continuing story. You cut back as many times as you need and then you rewrite everything you can from there.

Why did I come up with this method?

I lost my writing a few times in a torrent of notebooks, files, etc, but I found when I rewrote the events more from memory, that the second draft, despite my chewing my nails, etc, was better than the first draft after I found my first draft. Also, writing this way cut down on all of the pretty turns of phrases I was hooked on and married to in the first draft. Having to redo the plot from memory meant I only chose key points of the writing and often improved the plot flow.

Who is this not for?

If you have no firm grasp on your writing, you're a beginner, and haven't mastered techniques, have poor memory for plot and character, or your characters constantly go into new directions no matter what you do every draft, this is not for you.

What stories is this not good for?

Theoretically I think two types of stories this would be horrible for are: Linear forwards slice of life stories.

This is because you're cutting out the small transition moments and the delicacy needed to thread together the plot. You need those small plot threads and you shouldn't be cutting them out.

The second one is the chaotic timeline where things happen out of order, which usually, for me, takes either milestone writing to create an outline, and then linear forwards writing to hit those points, or writing completely out of order and letting people sort it out.

If you do manage to get this type of writing style to work for both, I'd be kinda interested in how you pulled it off, but I think it's a bad idea to want to do this kind of chaotic writing style for either where you need more delicate organization and threading.

Why would you do this method?

You have a huge cast of characters that are near the front and you have no idea who they are, how they sound and you need to refine them roughly through events.

The death of you will come if you don't make those characters distinguished in voice, mannerisms, etc quickly. But sometimes for people character sheets don't work because they don't tell how the character sounds and instead, what defines the character is a certain event or type of event.

So you need to figure out everything under the sun about this character quickly and efficiently. But discovery writing is excruciatingly slow on this count. You end up with repetition, flat characters until you find the thing that defines the character, and it's always messy.

So if you cut around the events that define the character, and ruthlessly cut the rest, then condense, condense, condense, often the voice of the characters is steadier from chapter 1, rather than finding it out in chapter 3 or 6. And if it's in Chapter 6, death be upon you because Agents want the character voices clear in Chapter 1.

For example, you might set up a cast of characters that work at a circus. You go, Oh crap, I need a bunch of characters all at once, how am I supposed to do this? This is when you'd use this method.

The other is if you want to intensify the events because they are too loose. So say you have a battle scene you need to write. You might have discovery written Event A. But Event B you also wrote. There's strengths from Event A, but if you make Event B the B plot, it clicks together, but you don't know what will happen next until you rewrite Event A with Event B, because this might bring a new direction to the plot.

How do you do this method?

You need good memory, organization, and the ability to store previous drafts so you can pull from them (Psst something like Scrivener). DATE YOUR DRAFTS.

Write forwards

Write whatever you feel like and feels fun to you regardless of whatever the publishers say. Find your characters and events, tone, theme, etc as you like.

You got stuck or realize you need to backseed an event? Time to Back up.

Backing up

Take your entire draft and back it up. Go to the place where you would need to seed the event to get the draft to work. You really need to know your story well to do this.

Hit delete on everything forward of that event in a *new draft.*

Rework the event you need and see where the story goes. This creates a branching effect, which is NK Jemisin's contribution. String theory for books.

Try a new direction. If you liked the old direction with this new plot information, you can still stitch in and interlace the old scenes, but you need to really keep track of what was in the previous drafts. This is where your search function comes in and using keywords. you may want to square bracket key events as you read through your previous draft.

Try to condense the events or add new events in the same word count. The point is to make the draft *shorter* with more efficiency than before.

Every book has decision points. If you're stuck, maybe a previous decision was wrong. If the character stagnates, maybe you made the wrong decision. Back up, trust yourself, do it again.

Keep repeating this until the book is compiled. TT And then cry because you spent a day on draft that you aren't going to use, but be happy because you used that information elsewhere.

Advantages

Less rewriting. You did it in the first draft. You don't need to add anything.

The characters are clear on page 1.

There is no death by repetition and placeholder sentences in the work because by re-reading the draft from the beginning, you have taken them out.

There are also less plot holes.

You don't need to outline 10 different characters and it feels like they are affecting the direction of the events quickly through affect and effect.

The moments where you say screw you to the publishers for that brief time and do whatever you feel like are fun. You can faff around with your favorite characters more. The impact is minimal because you know it's not going to end up in the final draft. Who cares. Knock yourself out. And thus you might end up more creative than if you were thinking you must conform in the first draft or you're going to die under a pile of rejections.

You might find a new story structure this way?

Disadvantages

Your memory for the plot between versions might take a hit. You have to read your draft over and over and if you're not sure of yourself, your ego will take a hit and the story writing will slow down. TT Label the plot on rereading. Please. And remember keywords.

It's super chaotic as a way to create a book.

The delicate connections are removed.

It's horrible for creating soft silences.

It might feel like it's too much too soon for the reader regardless.

You really need to watch your pacing skills when you do this to make sure that moving event to event feels natural rather than forced.

You will have to cut some of your beloved scenes that simply don't work in the final draft.

It probably is the worst way to write something like "Ways to Live" type of story where you need to carefully orchestrate threads on tone and theme, not by events and characters. (For that, I would use Thematic plotting with milestone writing, but that's my personal preference.)

[bakugosbratx]

omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?

NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.

Words: 2,410

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof

“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.

“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.

“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.

“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”

Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.

“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.

“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”

Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.

“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”

Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”

“But sir—“

“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”

The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.

This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.

Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.

“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.

Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.

“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.

“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.

The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.

Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.

“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”

“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.

Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.

Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.

“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”

“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.

“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I-“

“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”

His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.

“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.

You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.

“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”

“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.

“I plan on it.”

Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.

“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Because your family is dead.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”

Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.

“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.

You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.

Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.

Part of him hated you for that.

“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.

Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.

“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’

Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.

“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.

Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.

“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.

“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”

You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.

Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”

Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.

“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.

“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.

Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.

Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.

This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[selinakidreams]

Hello my love can i please request that you follow up on this lovely work of art you deposited in my ask box? Ty ty

oh oh oh what is this? the lovely carter (and val- in spirit) dropping in my inbox and requesting for me (???????) to write,,,,,,,,,,, I’m honored and will happily accept.

I am so so so so so sorry this took me so long to write,, it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks,,,, I hope this makes up for it 🥺 I tweaked it a bit and I think it works,,, better now ? hopefully !!

warnings: this is smutty, SLIGHT voyerism,  dubcon turned to con, p♥︎rn with like.. a dash of plot ? maybe ?, fem! reader, thigh riding, uh riding dick right after, LIGHT MENTIONS of fwb! Osamu,, ah ha haa — NO INCEST.

Dinners with the Miyas: a weekly tradition since... before you could remember. Once a week, you and your family would gather at the Miya’s house for a homemade feast.

In hindsight, it was a really nice way for two life-long best friends, both of your guys’ moms, and their loved ones to get together and catch up after a busy week- but as a girl dealing with a pair of twins a year older than herself, it was absolute hell. 

At first, you used to despise having to get properly dressed just to eat dinner with your family friends. All that effort and for what? You see them all the time at school already, what’s so special about coming together for dinner once a week? And honestly, you were just going to get dirtied up anyways. Their beautiful blooming garden was calling your name and who were you to deny it?

You’d often find yourself frolicking among the tall blades of grass and colorful flowers, the wind swaying the plants to and fro. It was so calming to sit and watch the bees buzz around and pollinate. Needless to say, this is the boys’ cue to come into the picture; they always ruined your fun. The twins started growing into... boys, meaning they were an absolute nuisance.

It all started on a gloomy day; it had rained a few hours prior to the meetup and the Miya’s garden was- of course- muddy, but you just couldn’t resist. You tried to be as careful as you could, especially after the continuous complaints from your mother about how dirty you were when you showed up to the dinner table, but somebody decided to sabotage that.

A cold, wet slab of goop slapped you square in the face. With eyes growing wide, you turned to the culprit. An obnoxious laugh left Atsumu Miya’s mouth and in the same breath managed to call you ugly. You didn’t know what to do besides look down; you felt tears prick your lash line and you didn’t want that bully of a boy to see you cry. When you lifted your gaze to find the back door to run to, you paused upon seeing more mud flying through the air- only it wasn’t at you this time. It’s target was Atsumu- the launcher, Osamu. Finishing the embarrassing blow, the twin pointedly said the same phrase that was spat at you, before turning to you and apologizing for his idiot brother’s actions. Needless to say, after that Osamu Miya became your knight in shining armor.

As the years pass, they started to come over to your house more. When the boys were in your room, they (mainly the more wide-eyed, now blonde-haired, insatiably curious one) poked and prodded where their gazes didn’t belong. Osamu always tried his hardest to reil his brother in, attempting to put things back and apologizing every once in a while.it was painfully easy to realize that your perspective about him about him shifted; The politeness. The calm. The sensibility. He was kind and considerate. Your view on Osamu began to change into something of want, and oddly enough, it wasn’t pure.

You and osamu grew closer in ways you weren’t expecting; he was your first sexual everything. First kiss, first touch, first fuck- and with every intimate moment you both shared, the level of respect and maturity was extremely high. There was only one issue, whatever one miya wanted, the other wanted it just as bad.

Atsumu’s gaze on you lasted longer and longer, his tricks were getting more and more perverse- anything he could do to cause a little mischief and ripen the sexual tension he began to build between the two of you. But even the kiddie wrestling matches, flipping up your skirt, and lingering touches became boring; none of his little teases seemed to satisfy him anymore.

He was jealous. He had to be. Osamu never boasted, much less muttered a single word about what you two did when you were alone but Atsumu wasn’t dumb. He knew one of the Miya’s were getting their dick wet and it certainly wasn’t him. He was becoming impatient, but to you, he seemed really on edge- so much so, that one night you found yourself in one of the most compromising positions with the honey-haired idiot.

The three of you were chatting about the twins’ most recent volleyball match in your room, waiting for your moms’ wine induced giggles to subside and finnish the food already.

With lit up eyes, Atsumu was boasting about how they’d achieved their first quick when Osamu pardoned himself so he could use the restroom. 

“AWHH ‘SAMU, YOURE GONNA MISS THE BEST PART.” Tsumu loudly whined. 

“i was there, idiot. just keep telling her the story, i’ll be back.” he rolled his eyes before leaving the room.

He sucked his teeth before turning to you to continue the story only to find your eyes glued to find Osamu’s fleeting figure. You looked almost dazed out and Atsumu couldn’t believe it. Right in front of his eyes, you were eye-fucking his twin brother instead of listening to him.

Absolutely not.

Part of you should not be surprised. You looked away for just a few seconds- just enough for Atsumu to be annoyed that the attention wasn’t on him. Now you found yourself pinned to the floor, both wrists in one of his big hands, the other holding your hips down. You let out a squeal as you tried squirming out of his grasp.... that was until his knee firmly placed itself against your crotch in just the right place. You swear up and down that you didn’t mean to but there was a surprised gasp that shouldn’t have left your mouth. It almost sounded like... the thought stilled your body.

atsumu took note of this. 

In a low murmur, he leaned incredibly close and whispered, “how’s that pretty pussy of yers feelin right now?”

It sent a violent pink tinge to your cheeks and a bolt of arousal down your spine, your slick spreading against your underwear and the top of his jeanclad knee. A clench of your thighs meant this was going exactly where he wanted it to- his wait was over.

“ ‘m waiting for an answer, princess.” he tutted, his face only getting closer to yours while he applied more pressure against your throbbing vulva. 

It was never like this with ‘samu. This... was almost exciting for you. Something teetering the lines of flavorful and troublesome. The little voice in your head was screaming at you but the aching desire in your pussy was louder.

“Ah!- atsumu! what are you doing?” you whimper, trying to hide your face. There were so many thoughts racing through your mind, the logical part of you wanted to hear them all out but in the moment you were so overwhelmed. There needed to be control in such a situation; You tried to shift around to loosen his grip, accidentally applying pressure that was welcoming it the most, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips and your eyes to clamp shut.

“mmm well, you’re so focused on my brother, i thought i’d show you what you were missin if you started payin more attention to me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and you whine. This position was so compromising.

He trailed the hand that weighed down your waist up the curves of your side and took your jaw in his hand. He turned your face and when you peeked open your eyes, your gaze was met with his.

“I want you to cum on my thigh.”

Eyes wide, you tried shaking your head to no avail. His grip was so strong. “Atsumu no!! Osamu’s gonna get back and dinner is gonna be done soon and just- no!” You squeal.

“Y’still have time,” he said calmly, “ ‘samu’s probably checkin on dinner... so yeh better start... or else. Y’know what? I could just continue this though dinner. Slide my hand up ye’thigh under the table...” he started, letting go of your face and ghosting his hand down your body. The thought of his big hands palming over your clit while a finger is dipped into your warm pool flashed in your mind. You clenched, and boy, he felt it.

“Mmm, did my pretty girl think about my fingers- fingers that could reach places yours can’t?” He grinned as he watched you follow his hand with your eyes. “maybe you’d like it if i play with your clit under the table, hm? right next to my brother-” 

“no no! here. right now.” is all you could manage to get out. your head was swimming with all that could happen, it only got hazier when you felt the pressure on your cunt lessen- you wanted it back. “Ts-sumu.. i..” 

“i know, i know... but first i want you to cum on my thigh if you want my fingers that badly. I want you whiny and desperate, rubbing that pretty cunt all over me. Moaning my name.”

That’s how you found yourself stuffed in your small closet, you desk chair pulled away from its rightful place,

With his throbbing cock fighting against the cage of his pants and heavy pants leaving his lips, his hands could only find relief on your waist- assisting you in your delishious movements.

His noises weren’t the only ones to be heard, you were trying so hard to contain them but nothing is coming of it. Short little high pitched whines rung in Atsumu s ears- but what really got him were the whimpers of “fuck tsumi,” when the angle hit your clit just right and the squeeze of his biceps as you threw your head back. As soon as he experienced that, he needed you to cum right then and there. And not on his thigh.

“Nope- fuck, we’re switching it up,” he mumbled as he stopped your hips from grinding down. Your mind was a mess but all you could think about in your extremely aroused state was that you needed to cum.

“Atsumu wh-“ before you could even finish your question, he unzipped his pants and uncovered himself from his boxers, his angry cockhead slapping his torso and smearing pre-cum on his skin.

“On- now, Princess.”

There was no need for protests; he was expecting one to come out but instead he felt your soft hands lightly grip his bulging head and give a few strokes before all he heard in that cramped, dark closet was, “you’re so .. big.”

Eyes wide, a garbled moan left his mouth and next thing he knew, you were repositioning till his tip lined with your sopping entrance. He couldn’t take it, he thrusted upward as you sunk down. A shocked moan ripped out of both of you and in the moment of silence that followed afterwards, you could hear the floorboard creek.

Apparently Atsumu did too because his actions stopped and one of his hands left your hips to presumably cover your mouth. You presumed wrong.

Your closet door slid open to reveal a wide eyed Osamu palming himself.

[demonslayedher]

How was Sumiyoshi able to mimic the exact breath of the sun (forms and breathing techniques) from watching Yoriichi once, whilst other skilled swordsmen including Kokushibo did not.

Easy answer: Kimetsu Logic! (ﾟ∇ﾟ)

Or at least that is what a friend and I have always used when something just doesn't quite make sense or have a clear reason besides moving the plot. But, as a lot of the fun of this series is diving into what might had been the thought process behind a lot of plot points, I have my scuba gear on and am ready to take a guess.

I started going into this a little on this Yoriichi Ask, as I think Yoriichi was born with an ideal Zen state of mind, at least in his swordsmanship and relation to the natural world. I've gone into it a bit on this Genya Ask, how Breaths seem pretty closely tied to meditative technique, which not everyone takes to very easily. Even in this Mitsuri Meta, I've made the assumption that with Sun Breathing as a natural base from which all other Breaths are derivatives, it takes some natural aptitude to hit at the core of what Breath technique is in the first place, and the better one's natural aptitude, the closer it may lead them back to Sun Breathing.

So if I were to package this into a theory, I'm going to first explain a samurai ideal called "no-mindedness," a state in which your ability is so engrained that it does not require thought (if we put it in simpliest terms, anyway, actual samurai and their translators are much more eloquent). A comparison in KnY is Tanjuro being as mild as a tree even when fighting a bear, he acts in truth and righteousness without needing to spare it any thought, or have any fighting spirit in battle. It's not mindlessness, or letting your body do the thinking, it's more like oneness with your craft that does not require mindfully breaking down of steps, or powering oneself or distracting oneself with one's feelings. Another way to think of it may be "flow," although I'd argue getting lost in a task is a form of mental captivation, and not a freeing Zen ideal.

Breath is Gotouge's choice of power source, tying it to how it powers every cell throughout the body. Not just any breath, but breath that requires Total Concentration. Clearly, the Pillars who maintain it all day do not think about each Breath they take; they have attained a state of not needing to be so mindful of it because of their oneness with the technique. Breath is a key element in meditation techniques the world over, and you'd think we'd all be good at it with how much practice we get, but most people pick up bad habits like poor posture or tension, which inhibits breath. A line I've often heard is that babies breath naturally from their stomachs, and we should seek to breath like babies.

Or like Yoriichi, to whom Breath technique comes completely naturally, he was practically born in no-minded oneness with it.

I think it was primarily a mental barrier that kept Michikatsu and other swordsmen from attaining the full power of the technique; they cannot help complicating it with their backgrounds in swordsmanship, even if Sun Breathing and swordsmanship go hand in hand. It's like how even if we practice breathing or other meditative techniques, we can always stand to improve.

Sumiyoshi, though, may simply have had aptitude. Without any background to complicate it, he was able to fully accept the techniques without preconceived notions or poor habits. Even if he couldn't perform them with the skill of Yoriichi, he at least had a clear eye for detail and accuracy, and a keen memory.

As Sun Breathing is associated with a great ball of fire in the sky, Sumiyoshi's work tending to fire in his charcoal production might also had given him an intuitive sense for things like air flow, timing, and heat. Comparatively, the Rengoku family already had a series of flame-inspired sword techniques, but they may have interpreted elements like force and passion as something to drive into their steel blade with practice, instead of a calm oneness with nature like the steady presence of the sun.

For other examples of some people just being more or less adept, classic kung fu tends to be full of examples, like in Condor Hero when a very clever martial artist is unable to grasp a technique that requires her hands to fight like they have two minds of their own, whereas it clicks pretty easily for another character (and she wasn't dumb, just different). For Sumiyoshi, even though he never had Yoriichi's level of innate skill, something in Sun Breathing clicked for him.

Tl;dr: A natural intuition for it, keen observation skills unclouded by his own notions of how to apply it to swordsmanship.

[shinygoku]

gordon gordon gordon gordon

Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon!!

He's been sneaking into these asks by proxy, so it's finally time for his dedicated session, hehe~

First impression

WUAAAGH what's up with this WEIRD LONG NOT-THOMAS and his FACE?!

Impression now

His face is still pretty weird! But you know what else it is? Part of an Absolute Legend ✨

Like, man, Gordon is such a big presence and interesting character, the entire premise leans heavily on him. I'm inclined to go as far as to say that the Blue Boys of 1, 2 and 4 here are the three most important characters for the franchise (not at all to knock everyone else lmao) and they slot nicely into a Triforce of Courage, Wisdom and Power, and Gordon has Power in spades!

Gordon is The Vain One (not James!). He's legit very strong and the fastest on Sodor (which isn't just being a big fish in a small pond because that island has some crazy cool engines!) but unfortunately he lacks humility. His success seems to have been lodged in his head before the series even begins and this Pride is the source of pretty much every single conflict he's involved in.

But when it isn't his self satisfaction in his actions, it's being smug about being such a grand, magnificent Tender Engine and he is snooty as hell about it. He seems to look at smaller engines [pretty much everyone compared to him lol] as a lesser class, particularly if they're small and cheeky and Tank Engines. This may not be the case exactly, but his way of talking to them and some other things he says are very condescending.

However... as much as a gigantic jerk he is at several points, with Gordon I kinda feel like he plain ass doesn't conceive of his words being out of line. That and having to Unlearn things... he's not innately better than everyone else. He sees things in black and white. There are Useful Engines, and those who should be scrapped. There are Noble Tender Engines and Lesser Tank Engines who exist to do the tedious chores on behalf of the Superior ones. Edward doing shunting is seen as Demeaning and contradicts Gordon’s world view that Tender Engines Don't Stunt™, and he doesn't like that one bit! (Also Edward was crossing the picket line but that wasn't Awdry's concern lmao)

Related is Gordon does seem oddly dense at times, like assuming that Tenders are in of themselves a Status Symbol rather than a large lunchbox of sorts lol, or that Tender Engines like him being too heavy for Branch Lines being because something about Branch Lines are degrading. This might be all Elitist Brainwashing influence. But still, that he just takes these as The Truth means I get to affectionately call him an idiot. And there is no other way to explain how he genuinely believes Bill and Ben were going to murder him if he wasn't missing a few brain bolts in there.

Fortunately, he does eventually start to learn the important lessons.... very gradually, but the Early Gordon is a pretty different beast to Later Gordon, and it's wonderful~

Also, I gotta give credit to him for having some moments of utter brilliance and actual grasp of reality and more complex matters, like culture. (Yeah, I'm rolling with his geniune Opera Knowledge from s6 of all things. It's good!) As much as Awdry himself may have disagreed, Gordon was in the right to want a Station Pilot and the Strike was called for (not bullying Edward for it, but myeah) ...but this leads to my next point: He seems to have a mental block when it comes to Emotions.

Certainly, he's as emotional as the others are, it's not just a scale of Snooty, Arrogant, Condescending, Prideful ....well, it is, but ALSO the more mixed and varied feelings: Shame, Sadness, Fear, Ambivilance, Irritation, Anger, Passion, Amused, Delight and so on. However, Gordon is seemingly unaware of how his words may make the others feel, and even at his cruellest it doesn't look like he's aware he's twisting a knife in. To Gordon, he's being honest, but his verbose manner ends up twisting and wriggling away from any valid point like an overgrown vine that somehow links back to how [Other Engine] is disgracing him, Gordon, by association.

Examples include: Being offended by Henry's new shape (??? Gordon dude he nearly died and this is an improvement, a good thing!), saying that Edward's age and difficulty starting a heavy ass packed load of passengers is grounds to be Retired or even Scrapped, other little insulting things like calling the likes of Thomas and James Little insistently (it seems to vary if he's trying to put them down or actually be affectionate), and many more when in the hands of inept writers who have to wheel out the same Gordon Learns A Lesson Plot every other season.

Like I said in the James post, I also think he kinda poisoned the Red guy with his snooty attitude... but I maintain that I think Gordon was unaware of this. He may know he has Influence, and enjoy that, but he really truly doesn't appear to mean to mould James into a smaller, redder version of himself. He's oblivious and from his own point of view, benevolent. Which is in fact a dangerous combo indeed!

It's... a lot o7;;

Again though, if you're looking at the books and s1-s5 of TVS you can see him grow and change. He does take a while to learn the lessons, but as time goes on he moves 2 steps forward and 1 step back, then eventually less steps back entirely. It's great! And so is Gordon. A big dumb meathead with not entirely uncalled for delusions of granduer. A dramatic so-and-so who is the best engine for his job.

I love this sophisticated jock who grows more kindness~ 💙

Favourite moment

Hm! This isn't as easy to decide lol. We all like Gordon Goes Foreign... but you know what sticks in my mind more?

hOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH

Look, I’m not 100% objective, here! But Ringo’s read of this line is fantastic (and keeps making me expect him to finish saying OOOHH SHIT) and it’s also a well deserved bolt of divine retribution for how rude he was being earlier. (As long as my essay already was, he very much needed the knocking down of some pegs here!)

Idea for a story

While both my fics with him thus far have been variations of Pre-Canon, Full-Arrogance and Snobbish Gordon (and both were a lot of fun!) ...but I cannot bear the same expired horse being beaten more when the story is set waaay later but he’s still up his own ass. Please, PLEASE writers, let him hold what growth he’s managed to gain!

I think it’d be good to accept that he’s gonna be outdated sooner or later, so have him help train another High Speed Engine and take them under his wing. The Christopher Awdry books kinda have something similar with Pip and Emma, but I think a better way of having Gordon be involved would be if he was actively doing some mentoring himself, as well as being a neat parallel with Edward, whose type was once Express only but got outclassed by A1s, and so the same can happen to this big A1 -> A3 lad and he can form a healthy relationship with some bright eyed newbie (and maybe have some self awareness and try to stop their head getting too large, lol).

Unpopular opinion

I know I just said him mentoring would be a cool story idea, but in canon? He is NOT a resident Dad type!! He’s a hotshot young man but he’s also a hot mess. He’s physically large but he’s not got the Energy of someone who dispenses sage advice and a shoulder to cry on. At best, he’s a weird uncle! One who means well but you shouldn’t take his life advice to heart because he’s actually just as, if not more clueless than you!

Favourite relationship

I feel inclined to say Thomas here. Emphatically not because Gordon is ‘old’ and Thomas is ‘young’, but because they’re so damn alike and actually make an excellent, albeit unconventional type of Rivalry.

Both are self important with genuine finesse in their respective talents, both are honest to a fault, both have redeeming qualities to offset their initial abrasiveness, and the first TVS episode is centred on the both of them and sets the tone for the series as a whole. There’s more parallels, of course, but I also wanna point out they’re effectively the mascots of North Western Rail in universe too, and I absolutely love this picture:

I also have immense fondness for the Down the Mine paradigm shift! Thomas gives Gordon grief over the ditch incident and later when it emerges the Fat Controller is gonna send for Gordon to pull him out, Thomas is filled with dread. But Gordon isn’t using the chance to lord over Thomas, he’s actually so amused by Thomas’ mishap and it coming at a time where he’s been significantly humbled, they instead become Comrades and I love it. I eat it up! Paint Pots and Queens isn’t anywhere near as good but I adore the little bit where they’re appealing for the other, equals and watching each other’s back~

But yeah, as Friendly Rivals they both feel very authentic and yet, in a daft way, sweet ;3

Favourite headcanon

He still says “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” when pulling the Express. That’s a HC as I think the show phased it out, but I like it lol. I feel like my essay on him contains most of the headcanon stuff, but it’s all based on what’s shown, baybee!

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hon' if you are accepting prompts (and only if you are!) can I have some spooky Sansa and Jon? I'm still not over them in spooky scenarios so I would love to read anything about it.

And for something a little more specific (in case that helps): maybe ghost!Sansa and Jon moves to her place and she is not happy, but also she loves his dog?

Or maybe Addams AU!

Or maybe Jon is the ghost and Sansa moves into his place?

Or they are talkshow hosts or something and a ghost is trying to get them together?

Or maybe YouTubers AU and their followed bug them until they agree to a Collab and it's Halloween or something like that?

Okay I went all over the place and clearly have too many ideas, but feel free to choose any of you do choose something!

First of all, I guess I'm sort of always taking prompts? I'll never turn them away, though they may also sit in my inbox forever (I'm looking at you, the last anon prompt from when I asked for them back in December...)

Second, spooky prompts! ❤️👻❤️👻❤️ If there's anything I love in this world, it's the supernatural/paranormal. And it may be the middle of summer, but I'm already longing for spooky season and I've been trying to vibe with it but it's hard when the days are so long, hot, and humid. (I desperately want to be able to go outside and not feel like I'm breathing soup, thank you very much.)

Before I get to the prompt itself, because I'm too wordy for my own good - your one prompt of Sansa/Jon is a ghost and the other moves in to their place... well, I've read that fic! It's actually locked on AO3 and I don't know if that means the author doesn't really want people finding it/linking to it, so I won't, but I guess DM me if you wanna know what it is?? I don't know the protocol for that. There's also Haunt Me, Then by the lovely @ode-to-an-inkwell which I read back when I was lurking and I loved it. It's the same base premise, but with a ton more plot!

The prompt I have chosen is the youtuber collab! Because I also love writing about/dissecting social media, apparently.

.

.

Sansa breathes – deep and even – and tries to stay centered in the middle of her group (away from the edges, away from the dark corners and the sounds coming from them and the people she knows are waiting for her there).

She wishes with all her strength that her followers had never found out that she's related to Robb. It's not something she was hiding, necessarily, but when she started her channel, she'd kept a lot of her personal life private. And honestly, she never thought it would get to this point – the point where she has millions of followers and Robb and Theon have millions of followers and those followers inevitably found out she and Robb are siblings.

A collab had been unavoidable. She just wishes it were any other activity than... this.

She lets out a strangled scream as something crashes to her right and she stumbles left, straight into the other person who's been dragged along tonight – Jon Snow. He catches her arm and keeps her upright and she almost thanks him until she hears him let out a laugh. It infuriates her and she rips her arm out of his grasp and sends him a glare, though it's short lived when she sees what looks like a jar of eyeballs on a shelf behind him and bile twists in her stomach.

She hates Halloween - she hates horror movies and jump scares and gore, and she especially hates haunted houses. But what else should she have expected for this collab? Robb and Theon have a dumb prank channel, of course they'd bring her – notorious wimp Sansa Stark – to a haunted house for the video. She thinks Robb got permission to film, because Dacey and Olyvar are flanking them with cameras to capture everyone's reactions.

“It's all fake,” Jon reminds her, though she barely hears his voice over the din of sound effects echoing through the dark corridor as they pass from one room to another.

“I know that,” she hisses, heart pounding wildly. They approach a doorway and – sure enough – right as she passes through, there's a person with heavy special effects makeup waiting on the other side to grab at her (another thing she resents – this is one of those places where the actors can touch you. They'd had to sign a waver). She screams in the actor's faux-bloody face and she swears he laughs at her.

In front of her, Robb and Theon are being obnoxious as usual. She doesn't really condone their prank channel and has often had to reign them in from doing something that would get one of them needlessly hurt (or would be considered, you know, illegal). Jon is usually an unwilling participant in their videos, and he has his own woodworking channel that has nowhere near the viewership that her makeup channel or Robb and Theon's prank channels do (she's told him, over an over, that if he showed his face on camera, he'd get more viewers, but he insists that he wants the focus to be on his work, not him). Jon walks next to her, calm, like nothing in this place fazes him, and she sort of resents him for this.

She understands it's all fake, she's not stupid, but that doesn't stop her fear response from kicking in every time something jumps at her, every time lights flicker or go out. It doesn't stop her stomach from turning whenever she sees the needlessly gory scenes like that doctor cutting a girl open, her fake intestines spilling out as the actress screamed.

“It'll be over soon,” Jon leans in close so she can hear him better, and for a moment a sense of calm washes over her. She loses it, though, as he moves away to give her space and she panics and reaches out and grabs his hand, tugging him back close to her.

A strange look passes over his face, but he doesn't say anything, just lets her grab onto his arm as they continue through the haunted house. She can't explain it, but with Jon next to her she feels... safe. She knows none of this is real, she knows none of these actors will actually hurt her, but it doesn't seem to matter, and it doesn't seem to matter that Jon won't actually have to protect her (though she somehow knows that he would if he ever had to, and that's a strange realization to have as she's walking through a room of terrifying clowns).

When it's finally over and they're outside, she breathes a sigh of relief and she feels muscles that she hadn't even realized were tensed relax.

“That was awesome,” Theon nearly shouts at one of the cameras. He and Robb talk loudly and animatedly for the cameras about the house, summarizing it for their audience (she knows they're likely to cut out a lot of the extreme scares and gore, since a good portion of their audience are kids and young teens).

“You good?” Jon murmurs to her and she realizes she still has a death grip on his arm.

“Oh,” she breathes with a forced laugh, “yeah,” and she lets go of his arm and immediately wishes she could have it back. (And then, some part of her brain whispers that she wishes she could have his arm wrapped around her instead, but she pushes that thought out because where did that even come from?)

Jon brings a hand up to scratch at his beard and shifts on his feet and she wonders if its because he feels awkward on camera. Jon's never liked being on camera, not really – it's why Robb and Theon always have to catch him off guard and why his videos – at most – only feature his hands and forearms (the comments on his videos about how attractive his hands and forearms are had been one of her main arguments for showing his face, but Jon had gotten weird after that and so she'd dropped it eventually).

“Hayride next?” Robb asks, which brings her back to the present.

“There's more?” she whines, twisting her face into a pout that always got her out of trouble when she was a kid, but Robb and Theon are already making their way towards the next attraction.

“You can sit next to me,” Jon offers, and she feels relief flood through her. “I'll be on the outside.”

She feels herself smile for the first time all night and nods and she's even more pleased when he – after a moment of hesitation – holds out his arm for her to take. She does so, curling her own arms around his and hugging it to her, keeping herself as close to him as possible as they walk through the fairgrounds to the haunted hayride.

They arrive right behind Robb and Theon and when Robb sees the way she's basically clinging to his best friend, there's a look that she can't figure out – it flicks from their joined arms, to Jon, then back to their arms, then to her, then back to Jon again and she feels Jon stiffen up next to her. Something silent passes between them and Robb looks almost... concerned? But then Jon shakes his head so subtly she thinks she's not supposed to see it and Robb nods back and turns around to face Theon and the cameras and Sansa's left more confused than anything.

The next tractor and wagon pull up to the entrance and the previous riders disembark. She waits with Jon, and though there's a slight fluttering in her stomach, she's not terrified like she had been right before the haunted house. Jon keeps his word and as they climb onto the open-topped wagon, he lets her sit in the middle and he takes the outside so she won't have to deal with the actors that run up to them during the ride. She settles into the hay and, without thinking, leans her head on his shoulder, arm still linked through his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Robb and Theon shouldn't have made you do this,” Jon says back and his voice sounds a bit shaky. She can't see his face, she's too comfortable resting her head against him to look up, but she wonders why he sounds nervous. Maybe he's more scared of all of this than he was letting on? He hadn't seemed nervous at all in the haunted house.

“Don't worry, I'm going to have so much fun giving them a full face of glam makeup when it's time to make the video for my channel.” That's the point of this collab – she does a video for their channel and they do one for hers.

Jon lets out a soft laugh as the tractor starts up and the wagon lurches forward, heading into the dark forest. “Can I watch?”

“Definitely,” she says as she squeezes his arm tighter, her heart jumping at a noise off in the woods – a signal that the scares are about to start. “You should let me do your makeup,” she continues to try and distract herself. “I think glam makeup would look amazing with your beard.”

“Sure,” she can feel his shoulder lift into a shrug, and that does make her lift her head up and look at him.

“You would? I thought you hated being on camera?”

He shrugs again, but whatever response he was going to give is cut off as an actor takes a running leap at the wagon, latching onto the side and pulling himself up, and the passenger nearest to him (right in front of Jon) screams. Sansa sucks in a breath and tries to calm her racing heart (and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dacey with a camera pointed right at her and Jon, a smirk on her face).

She spends the rest of the ride (and all through the haunted corn maze), hanging onto Jon for dear life and she swears his calm presence is the only reason she survives.

(And when she finally gets home to her little apartment and gets into bed, she tries desperately not to think too hard about why that is. She tries not to analyze the safety she felt with him or the way her heart had been fluttering during the car ride home, sitting in Robb's back seat and staring at Jon's profile illuminated by moonlight in the front seat as he and Robb talked and joked around. She tries not to obsess about the way he'd told her to call him if she ever wanted him to be in one of her videos, tries not to read too much into the look Robb had given Jon when he said it.)

(She tells herself that the reason she can't sleep that night is because of the haunted house.)

(It's definitely not because of Jon.)

[rayslittlekitten]

Post-Break Up

"Toff Girl" (aka "Damsel" Universe) Masterlist

A/N: I had this already done and some of you had expressed interest in these two during the break up in Safe Word Is Useless so I thought I might as well post this. This was also a little strange to write because I wrote a scene reader is not in and being told in second person, it reads a little strange.

Rating: T

Word Count:  2.1k

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!reader, OC x F!reader

Plot: You run into Ray for the first time after your break up while on a date and things get a little awkward and punchy.

Contains: a lot of testosterone

Few months later

Ray had been texting and calling you a few times a week, but you ignored all of it.  They were simple messages to just check up on you, but you didn't care to extend the courtesy of letting him know how you were really doing.  They eventually slowed down to a halt. He must have finally grasp the idea you weren't ever going to text or call him back. In fact, you could have blocked him and he wouldn't even know.  A part of you wishes he didn't stop.  You hated yourself for listening to his saved voice messages over and over again, missing the sound of his voice and blubbering over another stupid man.

Today, you have a date. Well, sort of.  A childhood friend, Manfred Loxley aka Fred reached out to you recently in the guise of catching up and after scanning his social media, you see he has really grown up.  Very easy on the eyes. Your parents and his are really good friends and you and Fred have not seen each other in a long time. You had both attended different boarding schools and lost contact until recently.  You're pretty sure your mother dropped your name and how you're super single you are now when she ran into his mother a few weeks ago. You're actually taking this date a little more seriously though. You need some rebound sex to help you get over Ray. Although sex with Ray is going to be very hard to get over. You've never had such intimacy with anyone before, in and out of the bedroom. Ray is such a dumb name, you think as you try to shake Ray out of your head. As you're finishing up your make up, you get a text message.  You check and it's from Fred, letting you know he's a few minutes away.  You slip on your sexiest heels to match your tightest and shortest dress.  You are single and now ready to mingle.  Fuck Ray and the weed farm he came with, has been your new mantra. 

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

Ray and Michael are doing their monthly payouts to some of their sites, one of them being your parents' estate.  Ray dreads coming here even more so since the break up, but the last few times have been non-problematic. Ray knows even though his boss takes good care of the estate owners, Michael only makes small conversation to appear he cares more than he actually does. His first and only concern of business is his own, but Ray appreciates his small talk more than ever now because Michael will ask about their personal lives and that is the only way Ray would ever know how you are doing. 

"So how is everybody doing?" Michael asks. "Haven't seen Y/N around."

Although this time, Michael might be asking with intention.

"Oh, she hasn't been well.  She's had her heart broken terribly. I didn't even know she was seeing someone. At least no one seriously.  Poor girl." Your mother shakes her head, sighing. "But she seems to be doing better now.  I try to push her to get back out there and meet new people."

Ray clenches up at her last comment. He really has no say in it nor should he, but the last thing he wants to hear about is you with another man.

"But you can't really rush these things. She'll be ready when she's ready."

Ray relaxes his body and takes a sip of his chamomile to calm his nerves.

"Well, she's a beautiful and smart young woman.  I'm sure she'll have plenty of suitors in no time," Michael chimes in. 

Ray chokes on his tea.

"Are you alright?" your father asks Ray.

Ray puts a hand up to signal he's okay while clearing his throat.

"Well, we should be heading out now. Got a few other places we need to stop by." Michael slaps Ray in the back and gets up from the couch. "Good to see you both again." Michael shakes both their hands.

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

Your dinner with Fred went fairly well. You both had a lot to catch up on and are not surprised by both of your parents' matchmaking after exchanging stories, but it was nice to have a bit of familiarity in your life as you both reminisce on the shenanigans you two and your childhood friends use to get yourselves into. After dinner, you both start walking back to his car.

"Remember when Sophie use to smear melted chocolate on people and tell them they have dog shit on them?" You snort from laughing and put your hand over your mouth and nose.

"You have a cute laugh," Fred chuckles.

"I promise that doesn't happen often." You giggle.

"Well I'm glad I was able to make you laugh so hard that you snorted."

"Yeah, thank you. I really needed that." You delicately wipe the tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes.

“You want to grab a few drinks?” He asks.

You’re feeling adventurous tonight. Tonight's been a fun distraction.

“Yeah sure. Where do you want to go?”

“There’s this pub I go to all the time. I know the bartender.”

“Lead the way!"

You both hop into his car and take off.

As Fred's driving, you look around and recognize the area.  Your body tenses as he slows down and parks his car.  Fred opens the door for you and you step out and follow his lead.  As you get closer to the corner, you stop.

"Come on, it's right here." Fred points.

"I don't know if this is such a--" You start, but Fred grabs your wrist and pulls you along.

"I promise you you'll have a great time," Fred assures you before dragging you into the pub.

As soon as  you walk in, there is a crowd of people.  You follow Fred as he finds a seat at the end of the bar.  He offers you the seat while he just stands next to you.  You try to make yourself seem small as you stay alert and look around the pub.  Not sure how small you can make yourself with this short, low cut dress.

"What would the lady like to drink?" Fred asks you.

"I'll have what you're having," you smile.

"Whiskey neat?" He asks you with a raised brow.

"Better make it a double," you reply.

"Alright, that's what the lady wants." He flags the bartender's down and places his order.  "I'll be right back. Just going to the loo." Fred tells you before leaving you alone.  You distract yourself with your phone, checking if you have any messages or missed phone calls, checking social media. The bartender places the two drinks in front of you and you thank him.  As you take a huge gulp of your drink, your face twists as it burns your throat.

"Oy, you come here often?"

You look over and see some average looking young man in t-shirt and jeans with messy hair, clearly not making eye contact as his eyes are below your neck.

"No and I'm not interested," you reply then going back to your phone.

"Oh, come on, what's a bird like you doing in a place like this?" he persists, moving closer to you.

"Fuck off," you tell him.

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

Ray leaves the pub through the back door and feels around his pocket for his car keys but then remembers he left them behind the bar when he emptied out his pockets after accidentally spilling a drink on himself. He sighs deeply.  He hates crowds and having to be so close to so many people he doesn't know but he needs his car keys. He usually leaves and avoids the main floor before it becomes happy hour but he's been drowning himself in work since he the last time he saw you. He makes his way back into the pub and does his best to avoid contact with people.  He successfully makes it behind the bar where he gets a temporary relief from being crushed by other people.  He finds his keys and flags Bob down at the other end of the bar to wave goodbye to him.  As he does, his heart drops when he sees you. That feeling quickly turns into anger when he sees a man talking to you who you clearly do not want talking to you based off your body language.

"Oh, you have quite a filthy mouth on you, love," the obnoxious man chuckles.  He moves even closer to you, practically cornering you and then grabs your chin. "I wonder what else your mouth can do."

Just as you are about to make this man regret ever touching you, he quickly gets pulled off of you and knocked to the floor with a swift punch in the face.

Everything happened so quickly you're not sure what happened. You look down but there's crowd blocking your view.  You get up and try to see what's going on.  You feel a hand on your back and you flinch and you look back to see Fred.

"What did I miss?" he asks you.

You assumed it was Fred who was on top of the prick putting him in his place.  Putting him in his place. You shove your way through the crowd and see Ray pounding this man's face in.  You try to pull him off before he kills the poor sod.

"Ray, stop! You're gonna kill him!" you shout but they continue to wrestle with each other. "RAYMOND!"

Ray stops and turns towards you with his glasses askew on his face.

Ray looks at you from toe to head seeing the six-inch Christian Louboutins making your legs look miles long and the dress that's barely covering you. In fact, it's one of the dresses he never liked seeing you wear out in public.

Suddenly, a punch lands on Ray's face and knocks him over. He tumbles by your feet.

"Stop!" You shout as you crouch down and hover over Ray and put your hand out to stop the other guy from getting closer.

Out of nowhere the man and his friends are being tossed out of the pub. Where the hell was security when it mattered?

"You alright, Ray?" you ask as you examine his face.  He adjusts his glasses and looks up at your face.

"Y/N."

You look into his eyes for a moment and all the feelings come flooding back to you. All of it, including the anger you felt the last you saw him.

"Here, mate, let's get you sorted." Fred says to Ray and extends his arm to him, breaking the spell.

Ray takes his hand and Fred helps pull him up.  You stand up and straighten your dress out as it rode up when you were crouching down.

"You two know each other?" Fred asks, looking at you both,.

"Uh, yeah, Ray here knows my parents.  There was just a drunk fuck boy getting handsy with me and Ray just happened to be here and well..." You wave your hand at the general area of where the fight broke out.

"Well, thank you so much, Ray. I appreciate that." Fred offers his hand and Ray reluctantly takes it and shakes it.  "I'm Fred, by the way. Can I get you a drink?"

"I'm good, but thank you. I'm actually on my way out," Ray replies with a forced smile. 

"You sure you alright?" You ask again with your arms crossed over your chest. You wanted to go off on him but with Fred there, you didn't want to cause another scene.

"I'll be alright. Just a bruise." He turns to you and soaks you in.

"Well, uh, thank you for that although unnecessary," you tell Ray.  You then slip your arm around Fred's and turn to him.  "You want to go somewhere more quiet?"

Fred turns to you and smirks. "Sure. Let me just settle up my tab." Fred leaves you both alone.

Ray can feel his blood starting to boil again and you can tell because his jaw is twitching and you know it's not because of the punch.

"Of all the pubs in London, why the fuck did you come here with another man?" Ray asks, looking at you with fire in his eyes.

"Why the fuck do you care?" You ask. "It's not a threat to Mickey, is it?"

Ray says nothing and just continues to look at you, his jaw twitching again. Fred comes back and breaks the tension between them.

"You ready?" Fred asks you.

"Ready as Freddy," you smirk.  "Good night, Ray."

"Good night," Fred says to Ray before you both leave.

[uwuwriting]

Road trip w/ Kaminari, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Shinso, Kami, and Bakugou on a long trip/plane ride with their S/o? Happy holidays bb! - 🥐

I wish I could go on a trip. I need Christmas break to last longer, I’m not ready to go back to school and study for uni, I’m not emotionally capable. I hate it here.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Kaminari Denki

-You have a mini fight about who gets to drive at first. 

-You don’t trust him because he is dumb and bisexual and he believes that you’ll fall asleep ont he wheel cuz you stayed up until like 2 am the previous day downloading music and making playlists for the journey. 

-He gets to drive the first shift and it goes relatively well.

-You get some extra sleep, he enjoys his time behind the wheel and boom you’re now at a gas station having brunch before hitting the road again.

-Karaoke driving. 

-I think that’s all I have to say about your road trip with this guy. 

-HE will ignore the playlists with the soft songs because he needs to vibe at first. 

-Kills it with the Shakira impressions like you start wondering what would happen if he suddenly decides to follow a music career like Jiro. 

-So many bathroom stops. 

-Does this man have a prostate problem because damn.

-He can’t go for more than an hour without stopping to pee. 

-The one time you ask to stop at a gas station for a bathroom break he suggests just stopping at the side of the road and you could pee there. 

- “I do it so you can too.” 

-Denki honey I don’t have a dick to wip out…...I need essentials. 

-May or may not have taken the wrong exit at some point and you took a thirty minute detour. 

-At least you got some nice photos out of it. 

-Speaking of photos. 

-Your camera roll will be filled with selfies, stupid videos of Kami hyping himself up at a red light. 

-Races with other cars at said red lights. 

-You fear for your life most of the time, grasping the door handle like your life depended on  it because in reality it kinda did. 

-You beg him to take over and drive for a little bit but he brushes you off. 

- “You seem tired baby, let me drive for a bit.” 

- “Nope I’m perfectly fine Y/N. Gonna get us to the hotel so fucking fast.” 

- “Denki no-”

-He calms down after a while, and he lets you put on your soft playlist so you could both just vibe. 

-His hand is resting on your thigh, giving it a few firm squeezes every now and then. 

-He likes drumming the beat of the song on your skin.

-You start random conversations about anything and everything and if you’re being honest you love these types of moments. 

-There are no villains to fight, no danger in the horizon *apart from his driving* and you get to enjoy the tranquility while enjoying the ride.

-Denki starts telling you about adopting a dog and you joke that he would be a horrible dog dad. 

- “Maybe cats are better for you babe.” 

-You are no longer heroes. 

-You are just a couple going on a road trip, away from all your troubles and worries just you and him. 

-You reach the hotel later than you expected though…..it was those damn bathroom breaks!!!

Shinsou Hitoshi

-The trip is spontaneous. 

-You were both chillin in your apartment when he popped the question. 

- “Wanna go on a trip? I’m bored.” 

-You never expected him to pick a place this far away, you weren’t complaining though. 

-Road trips with him are immaculate. 

-He helps you pack your bags in no time, picking your favorite outfits out and placing them in your travel bags along with a bunch of snacks and a fluffy blanket. 

-You hit the road in less than an hour.

-It’s still dark out when you start your trip and Hitoshi insists you take a nap, get your beauty sleep while he drives. 

- “Don’t worry we won’t crash, I hope.”

-You do take a nap eventually but not for long and you wake up just in time to watch the sunrise with your boyfriend. 

-He will pull over and take pictures with the sunrise as your background. 

-He says he needs a new wallpaper on his phone and there’s an empty picture frame at his desk back at work. 

-He needs to fill them somehow. 

-Around noon he brings the fluffy blanket in the front seat, wrapping it around you so you can snuggle and possibly fall asleep again. 

-In reality he wants to take more pictures of  you with drool dripping down your chin for blackmail purposes but you will not yield !!!

-The trip is mainly filled with music and low humming coming from the both of you. 

-Though when a love song that reminds him of you comes on he will lean over and grip your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze, a blush blooming on his cheeks. 

-Makes many stops in spots that look great for photos or having an amazing view. 

-Definitely has prepared a picnic basket and before you know it you are munching down on some sandwiches he made while your feet are dangling over a small cliff you happened to come across. 

-Shares random facts about nature and animals with you. 

-Shinsou strikes me as a guy who watches a lot of documentaries and animal planet shows, so he has obtained random information and now he is explaining the mating cycle of penguins. 

-Would definitely prefer to sleep in the car and not rent a room. 

-He wants to stay outside looking at the stars for as long as possible and then snuggle up with you in the driver's seat, your head against his chest and his hand buried in your hair. 

-If you want to go to a hotel because you feel more comfortable, he won’t complain. 

-As long as he gets to cuddle you anything is fine in his book. 

-He puts on YOUR song while you are looking at the sky and invites you to dance with him. 

-Wraps his arms around your waist and slowly sways you back and forth, following the rhythm of the song as he looks into your eyes. 

-He loves capturing the moment so expect many photos to be taken and a bunch of videos of you two dancing. 

-He has his crackhead moments though so you can expect to be shoved into the water if you’re near a lake or at the beach. 

-He might draw a mustache on you while you sleep but don’t worry you get payback when he is asleep. 

Bakugou Katsuki 

-Whines while you back everything. 

-And when I say whines I mean he grumbles under his breath about this stupid shirt that he can’t seem to fold correctly.

-Anyways once you hit the road he is more relaxed than usual. 

-He keeps this tight, aggressive persona out in public you sometimes forget that this man, this amazing partner is also a pro hero who is known for his rough edges. 

-Sure, his explosive behavior doesn’t disappear when he is with you but he is a lot tamer and calm around you.

-During the car ride he makes small talk with you, sharing random events from his patrols and stupid shit his “squad” have done while out in public. 

-When he comes home every night he is just so tired that many details slip his mind as he recounts his day to you, seeing him right now a genuine smile gracing his lips as his only focus is the road in front of him really warms your heart. 

-He becomes more affectionate. 

-Hand gripping yours while he drives or his palm on your thigh, rubbing your soft skin as he hums along with the music. 

-Even if he needs to switch gears he won’t let go.

-Surprisingly he is the type to put on an audio book after a while. 

-Usually it's after your wedding song is over or soon after that. 

-Your song is like a trigger and suddenly sophisticated Bakugou emerges asking you to pick an audiobook from his collection and put it on. 

-Gets really invested in the story and pauses it every five minutes so you can discuss it. 

- “She could have escaped through the window why the fuck did she let herself get caught?” 

- “No Katsu!!! She needs to make sure the prince is alive!!” 

- “That’s fucking dumb!” 

-Let’s you take candid pictures of him and won’t complain when you coo over how pretty he looks with the sun behind him. 

-Don’t worry he is plotting to fill his gallery of pics of you sleeping. 

-When you actually fall asleep he will turn the radio down and hum softly under his breath. 

-If it starts raining heavily he will pull over and wait for it to calm down a bit. 

-My personal headcanon is that Katsuki has a car with a skylight *if that’s what its called* so he brings the seats down and you lay there admiring the rain falling onto the glass. 

-He likes talking about more serious matters when you are like this. 

-From your future to what pet your future kids could have. 

-If you get cold while waiting for the rain to calm down, he has a blanket on the ready. 

-He places you on his chest and drapes the blanket over you, enjoying your warmth and the filling of your pulse under his fingertips. 

-Might get a little emotional if a slow song is playing. 

-He is just too overwhelmed by his emotions at times like these, when he can hold you and feel the pure love and adoration flow between the two of you like water. 

-I love you’s are exchanged and many kisses. 

-When he starts driving again he is so refreshed, it’s like a completely different person. 

-Gas station stops and bathroom breaks are a nightmare cuz he keeps hyping himself up in order to go into Bakugou public mode. 

-You just want your Katsuki, the cuddly Katsuki. 

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