#I had to register card? When I already had a account

[amerasdreams]

cute store downtown-- got some things

Some really good chocolate oreo marshmallow ice cream

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Six

— Little Big Gifts

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.9k

You watched as Isabella tugged Max into yet another store with a tight grip on his hand. At this point, you were losing track of how many stores you've been in and out of.

Falling behind a few steps, you took that moment to notice how Max and Isabella could've easily resembled a father-daughter duo to the strangers around you.

Pushing that thought away when Max looked for you, he smiled and held out his other hand—that was still holding a few shopping bags—as a gesture for you to come closer.

"How much money are you planning to spend on her?" You asked, looking at the increasing shopping bags in both yours and his hands, everything bought so far was for Isabella.

You had to physically stop yourself from grasping his bicep, cursing internally when you remembered that it wouldn't be the right thing to do. But you desperately wanted it to be a normal habit.

The first—and last—time you tried to pay was when you were checking out at the register in the first store of the day. Max lightly shoved you aside and tapped his card before you could notice what happened.

The cashier noticed and even commented, "let him pay for it, darling," with a cheeky wink directed at you.

Max looked at you, almost offended at the question you asked. "Until my account is empty," he stated with a shrug and a growing smile on his face when you shook your head. This would've been the perfect time to lean against him and smile at him, but once again you didn't.

"It would take a long time before that happens," you responded and he gave you a knowing look, "that's the point."

Isabella was roaming around the aisles with you and Max following behind. Every time she liked something, she would pick it up and look at you two with the cutest smile on her face while muttering the word, "please."

It reminded you of the day you first met Max through Isabella, since she was doing the same trick as today.

The only difference was that every time that happened, Max looked at you for permission as well and it felt like you were facing two versions of Isabella.

"Mama!" Isabella exclaimed when she laid her eyes on the prize, which happens to be hair accessories.

Little clips with bows, glittery ones, some even had flowers, and she loved it all.

"Pick out the ones you really, really like, Bella." If you didn't limit the items, Isabella would pick one too many. You stood beside her, holding each item that she handed to you.

There were lots of options, but your little girl was picky and this was one of the few times you were grateful for it. She picked out a total of six items, "because I'm six, mama," was her reasoning behind it.

You chuckled, "you can pick out seven things when you turn seven then, okay?" She nodded, and began counting how many months were left until her birthday.

Max watched the whole interaction with soft smile on his face, wondering how he had such amazing luck that he was able to befriend the sweetest mother-daughter duo.

Then, Isabella spotted earrings and asked if she could buy those too. "Your ears aren't pierced, angel." She frowned, "why not?"

“Do you want to get your ears pierced?" You asked, knowing it was a question you'd have to ask one day and it seemed like a good time right now.

"Yes please," Isabella nodded, and looked at both you and Max in anticipation. This time, you looked at Max for reassurance, wanting to know his opinion as well. Though you had no idea why his opinion mattered so much to you.

"It's going to hurt," Max commented or more so stated directed at Isabella, wanting her to know the process behind it. "I am a big girl!" She responded with enthusiasm, and by the tone of her voice, you knew that she had already set her mind on it.

"Okay, big girl, let's get you some piercings after we buy all this," you stated and she smiled brightly, holding onto your hand as you neared the cash register.

As Max reached for his wallet, you placed your hand over his to stop him, and he looked at you with a questioning gaze. "Max, you already did too much," you whispered, ensuring that your daughter doesn't hear you.

"What if I want to do more?" He countered, and you sighed. Then he added, "plus I promised Bella that I would buy her the clips she wanted, and she also asked for ice cream."

You knew he wasn't going to budge, so you let him pay but you needed to have a conversation with him about it.

You weren't used to this sort of treatment, and even after Max reassured you that it was truly his choice to pay, you felt bad.

As you walked out the shop holding Isabella's hand, who was beaming because of the new purchases, you looked at Max, "are you going to let me pay for the piercings?"

He debated it, knowing that if he kept paying, you might never take him along for shopping again. "If you insist," he shrugged and you smiled, quickly placing a kiss to his cheek in appreciation.

While you and Isabella continued walking, Max faltered and stopped midstep. He brushed his fingers against his cheek that you kissed with a small smile growing on his face. Then, he continued walking before you were able to notice that he stopped.

Isabella's nervousness almost matched her excitement as she sat in the chair. The piercer was a kind lady who understood both Isabella's nervousness and excitement.

She explained the process as it was your daughter's first time getting pierced. "Are you sure you want to do this, angel?" You asked, watching her wiggle around in the chair.

Still, her nod was just as firm, "yes mama."

Once the piercer marked Isabella's ear so the placement was precise, she looked towards you and Max then back at Isabella.

"Why don't you hold on to your mama and daddy's hand, you'll forget the pain and we'll be done in no time."

Isabella grabbed onto your hand but then shook her head, "he's Maxy, not daddy," she clarified. Max took a slight step back after her words, the realization dawning on him that he might've gotten a little too comfortable too quickly.

"I'm going to hold onto mama and Maxy's hand," Isabella stated, holding out her hand towards Max with a wide smile on her face, as if she didn't realize the words she spoke just moments ago.

Technically, she wasn't wrong which was why you didn't correct her. But, the truth of the situation wasn't something you focused on until recently, especially after the words Tyler spoke yesterday.

"Can you count to three for me?" The piercer asked Isabella, deflating the tension.

Your focus was completely on your daughter, mainly because you didn't want to think of the possibilities about your future with Max just yet.

The piercer didn't wait until Isabella finished counting, instead surprising her by piercing her ear a second earlier.

Max rubbed her hand soothingly as he noticed her eyes beginning to water but she didn't let a single tear drop. Inhaling sharply, she commented, "that didn't hurt too bad."

"You're a brave girl. Now let's do the other side," the lady commented and Isabella's eyes widened at her words. "The other side?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, "yes, angel, she has to do your other ear unless you only want one earring?"

Isabella shook her head, and sat through the same process for her other ear.

"Good job!" The lady gave your daughter a high five, then she walked away to gather the items needed for post piercing care.

You kissed your daughter's cheek, carefully avoiding any accidental touches to her ear, "my brave girl."

The chair she was sitting on was higher up, so Isabella held her hands out towards Max. He took a step closer and easily wrapped his arm around her, helping her stand firmly on the ground. “You're going to be the coolest kid in first grade," he told her which made her eyes widen with excitement.

"Really?" Isabella asked. "Of course! You got a new bag, new clothes, and even new piercings. You are going to have so many friends."

After Isabella shared her fear of moving to first grade after kindergarten, you and Max tried your best to reassure her that it isn't as scary as she thinks it is.

You went up to the cash counter to pay and the lady explained the steps that should be taken after a piercing for proper care.

Meanwhile, Max was holding Isabella's hand and whispering to each other but stopped once you returned. "Where to next?"

"Ice cream!" Your daughter cheered, and you couldn't say no to her even if you tried. After all, she did deserve ice cream since she put on such a brave face for her piercings.

After buying three different flavours of ice cream, one for each of you, it was time for a much needed break. You knew that Isabella was close to wanting a nap since you saw her eyes droop slightly once you sat down to enjoy some ice cream.

She leaned against you and wandered off into her own imaginative world. "I think we're done for the day," you turned your head towards Max as you spoke the words.

"You didn't get anything for yourself yet," Max commented and you shrugged, "I don't think I have the energy to shop for myself, plus you didn't buy anything for yourself either."

"And you're sure that you're not saying that because you don't want to spend my money?" He asked and you had a sheepish smile on your face that gave you away, “that too.”

Max tried to understand why you were so adamant on that topic. He didn't know why you were so hesitant to spend his money. He knew that if it were someone else, they wouldn't have hesitated. But then again, you aren't just someone else, you're you.

"Fine, mister rich, don't look at me like that. I'll empty out your pockets one day and then you'll realize what a mistake you made," you teased him, knowing that you would never do that. "But, I seriously don't have the energy to continue shopping."

"First, it won't be a mistake if I ask you to do it, and second, I'm here whenever you need me—or in this case, my card—just give me a call."

You were glad that Isabella was not listening to your conversation, because you wouldn't know how to explain it to her.

"You can't say things like that," you nearly whispered. "It's actually true, I'm free for the next ten days. During that, we're going shopping again."

You shook your head with a smile on your face, "I'll take you up on that offer then."

"Good." You leaned closer to him, without actually leaning on him. Even that little inch closer, brought a smile to both your faces but neither commented on it.

Then, when you looked at Isabella, she had almost finished her ice cream but you laughed when you noticed quite of a bit of it smeared around her mouth. "Oh, Bella." She giggled as she tried to wipe away as much as she could with her tongue before using the tissue that you passed her.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓈

I wrote this while waiting for my fn queue, it took literally over an hour and I fell asleep, im so excited for the new season but omfg im so bored w/o it 😞 im getting Fortnite schizophrenia

thinkin bout rafe w a reader!gf, one smut joke that’s it

Masterlist

You sat behind him on his motorcycle as he sped up, your arms wrapped around him. He stopped, parking in a stop downtown and pulling his helmet off, shaking his head and fixing his hair. You took yours off, holding it.

He had a small smile as he looked at you already walking down, catching up with you. You were giddy all week when he told you he would take you to the Barnes and Nobles- even though it was far away.

“Slow down, slow down.” He said with a chuckle when he noticed you were walking fast down the sidewalk. You pouted and slowed down.

“Not my fault you walk so slow.”

He rolled his eyes at your antics, a small smile on his face. You gently pushed his chest as he feigned offense.

“How dare you?” He gasped dramatically.

“How dare you?” You mocked. You both laughed and soon you were met with the sign of the Barnes and Nobles, you practically running in, dragging Rafe.

Your helmet under your arms got hard to carry, he took it from you, both his hands full now.

“Thank you.” You told him quickly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and grabbing a basket. You scoured the sections for books, reading the backs, your face interested. But, Rafe noticed you were hesitating to buy some.

He took one from your hands making you smile, amused as he flipped through the pages.

“Baby, this might as well be pure smut.”

“It’s not all smut.” You argued, taking the book from his hands with a roll of your eyes.

“You seriously reading about this when we can do it?” He said, tone teasing.

“You’re gross.” You hit his chest, putting the book back.

And sometimes, you put back one and put in another. Soon, you said you were done but the basket wasn’t any where near full, and that wasn’t okay in his eyes.

“Why’d you put down the others?” He asked curiously.

“It’s expensive,” you shrugged. “I can’t waste all my money, I still have shit to pay off.”

“I’m paying for it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“I’ll pay for it. This is a date, isn’t it? I should be the one paying.”

“But, Rafe-“ he always paid for you, despite your protests.

“Don’t worry about it. Buy anything you fuckin’ want, yeah? That’s what I’m here for.”

“Ugh, will you ever let me pay for something?”

“Nope.” He said with a smirk, you smiled back and went back over to the books you were originally looking at.

“Why don’t you get the uh… what’s it called?” He asked, picking up a hardcover.

“A hardcover costs more. I don’t wanna drain your pockets.”

“Have you seen my bank account? I am off perfectly fine. A little what, couple hundred bucks? Is not gonna drain my pockets.” He spoke, putting the hardcover in the basket for you before you could protest.

You rolled your eyes and began walking to the register when you were done, putting the books on as you greeted the cashier with a small smile.

“Find everything okay?”

You nodded, your eyes going to the screen as the amount went up.

“Rafe, that’s a lot-“ you mumbled, he shrugged.

“It’s fine, baby.” He said with a laugh, you looked up at him now and back down.

“Your total is… 246 dollars.” The cashier spoke.

“Jesus Christ, Rafe, are you-“

He swiped his card, and you had a small smile on your face.

“You didn’t have to.” You told him.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I wish my hobby was this cheap.” He said with a laugh, giving you back your helmet so he could carry all the bags for you, flexing his biceps as he did so.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Overtime overture - Richie Jerimovich x reader

Carmen Berzatto was a fucking dumbass. Okay, let’s rewind and put our customer service attitude on. Carmy was running this whole place by himself. That came with changes, wild cards. Syd’s stage was one. Your starting as a rookie part-time waitress was another. Everyone else knew their schedules by heart. And they had the common sense to remind your boss when they were supposed to end a shift. Not you though. That’s how you ended up working a few hours overtime in the biggest rush you’d ever seen. Alongside the man you had a massive work crush on.

So, how did you get there? You started your regular shift at 14, barely avoiding the lunch time rush. Still, the place was a bit more lively than usual. So Carmy did the logical thing. Forsake training you on a new station and gave you the work you were familiar with. Which was precisely the register with Richie. There was only 1 problem - you had no knowledge on how to enter the orders. So you did the rest while your coworker was busy. Between arranging plates, walking to tables and cleaning trays, you were too. Even in the quiet moments you tried to slip away, making drinks and getting the lobby more pristine. Yet there were still moments where you were too tired to even do anything except stand. Then Riche talked to you about college. You asked about his kid. Safe, work friendly topics. You cringed as you remembered how he had scolded you and Syd for talking about your exes last week, making you prepare for closing instead. That didn’t even top your most embarrassing moment. When Carm dismissed you with a ‘’bye bye, mai thai’’, you blurted out ’mai thai, that’s what got me to lose my virginity’ before thinking. Your boss barely registered what you said, while Richie doubled over in a hyena-like laughter. You were so done with everything that you didn’t even care until later. By the time you got home, you were so mortified that you considered just quitting tomorrow. Luckily no one made any references and you kept your paycheck. 

Little by little, the hours trickled by. It was finally 22, time for you to go home. You looked at Carmy, who glanced down at the schedule and continued giving orders to the kitchen. You waited a bit more, I mean a couple of minutes wouldn't kill you.  And it would help your already dwindling bank account. Plus, who even came to the restaurant this close to closing?Festival goers, that’s who. Apparently there was a big music event happening and the restaurant’s hours were different. And all of your coworkers but you knew about it. Which would make sense, since you weren’t working closing, they were. But little by little you were getting nearer to that. And there was no way in hell you were working a 12 hour shift, walking home and  then showing up again tomorrow. Yet, Richie was working so hard, already overwhelmed, even with your help. So you couldn’t just leave him to handle all these people and their orders. Seriously, they were in and out, as soon as you handed one takeaway bag, another person queued up. Richie could see you starting to struggle. You were slower, leaning more against the counter, he could even hear you swear in a foreign language. But before he could ask, there was another person with a bright sequined outfit asking for a sandwich. It was 12.30, and things were finally calming down. When the lobby was empty, you turned to your coworker and asked

‘’You think you can handle it on your own?’’.

‘’Yeah, why? Oh, you probably wanna go home. When does your shift end anyway?” 

“At ten.”

“Ten? That was more than two hours ago. Why did you stay?”

“You needed the extra pair of hands.”

‘’You’re a fucking angel. Let’s get you out of here. Cousin.’’ Richie yelled for Carm and there went your subtlety. Still, the man you had been helping the last few hours let you speak. Your boss apologized profusely, offering you everything. Then moments later got into a screaming match with Richie over the latter driving you home, instead of finishing his shift. Ah, the duality of men. You guessed guilt won over, because as soon as you were done changing, your crush was there, car keys in hand.

 ‘’Won’t you get in trouble? I mean, there might still be people and what if Carmy gets pissed.You can still go back and finish up.’’

‘’I’m not gonna let you walk 30 minutes in the dead of night. And before you say anything, I know you’ve done it before. When I’m on schedule you don’t have to anymore, it doesn't matter if you end at 20 or 3 in the morning.’’

Seeing him be so kind was a surprise, so you only managed a ‘’Thanks Richie’’ before heading to his car. By habit you went to the backseat and got scolded by a ‘’I’m not a chauffeur, you know.’’. So you quickly scrambled out and moved by him. Your mind flashed with the words suspended license as you fastened your seatbelt. But he was careful, very much so. You, on the other hand, were so bad at actually guiding him, that the Google Maps voice had to fill the awkward silence. When his car was in front of your building, you were relieved and basically ready for bed. 

‘’Thanks for everything, Richie, really.’’ 

‘’You’re welcome, angel.’’. You guess that the nickname was gonna stick, whether you liked it or not. Problem is that you did enjoy it, even a bit too much. Darling, sweetie, honey, your colleagues had cycled through all of those when they had trouble learning your name. Chef seemed to take priority over all of these. But now, every time Richie saw you he’d call you the new name. You’d expected it the day after, but even a week later he was still at it. 

‘’You’re my angel, you know that right?’’

‘’Don’t let the actual Angel hear you. You’ve helped me out so much since starting, it’s only fair.’’

As you were giving a coffee to a customer insisting they didn’t need a takeaway lid, the older man went to also make himself a latte. As if on cue, Carmy calls you both ‘’5 minutes, drinking break’’. Needing the fresh air, you also go out and the smell of strong cigarettes hits you. Knowing your need to fit in, he offers you one. Surprisingly you take it and lean into his lighter. He remembers teasing you about not being able to operate one, your cigarettes with foil, etc. All your inexperienced charm was cute. It scratched the part of his brain that watched hardcore porn, that did a double take when you wore pink dresses. Even if he cringed when you were too young to get his references, your expressions of concentration went straight to his cock. After a couple of shifts, his searches drifted from milf towards college girls. The flame illuminates your blush. Why do your lips wrapped around his ciggie make him as hard as a rock? It was wrong to get the hots for you like that. Maybe it was just a fucked up close proximity thing, like the romance books you cooed about. There was only one couch or whatever. Riche wasn’t blind, he could see the looks that Carmy and Sydney gave each other. Hell, even sometimes he swore your eyes lingered on him. The Bear had its allure, it was a crockpot for not only fights, but sexual tension. 

He must’ve zoned out way too much because you called ‘’Earth to Jerimovich, hello. Carmy is gonna have our collective ass.’’ Richie almost mutters something about having your ass before stopping himself. He just stubs his cigarette out and goes back to working the register with you. Thankfully the clients killed his stiffy before you could say HR violation.

 Richie kept his promise. Despite ending his shift a whole hour before you, he was there, waiting. At this point, there was no point for you to argue. You just accepted your new role as his passenger princess. But as you initially expected, something went wrong. He stops at your house. You wave goodbye and expect him to drive away, as usual. He doesn’t. More like he can’t. The car sputters but won’t start. His eyes drift to the fuel indicator and he sees it’s completely empty.

‘’Shit, Carmy sent me on that product run before you came in. Must have drained my tank.’’ he concludes, to fill the awkward silence.

 ‘’You could stay over. I mean, I’m not sure if it’s gonna be more comfortable, but at least then my roommates won’t call the police on you.’’ you say, half trying to appease the guilt in you and half because you wanted to spend more time with him. 

 ‘’Hey, my car isn’t that old that I look like a hobo. Right? Anyway, you don’t have to do that just because you feel bad for me’’. He hit the nail on the head, but you couldn’t let him know that.

‘’Richie, it’s fine. Tit for tat, you scratch my back, I scratch yours.’’

‘’It will turn cold as fuck, it’s fucking February.’’ he thinks out loud. ‘’Okay.’’ 

He’s stealthy, fitting his large frame into the disheveled college apartment you share with your housemates. You forget just how disheveled your room is. Richie’s eyes dart from the plushies on your bed to the alcohol bottles balancing your stacks of books. You bend over your bed to fix the covers, and he swears there’s a flashing neon sign above your ass saying ‘’Smack me’’. He turns his head and he sees it. A pack of condoms. Brand new, unopened, name brand condoms. In order to not explode on the spot, he asked ‘’So, can you hand me the extra pillow and a blanket or something.’’. Richie was happy with the floor, he really was. It would be the same as his car. Besides, one night of bad sleep wasn’t going to kill him. But then, you reminded him why he fucking called you his angel. 

‘’You can take the bed with me’’. He must’ve made a face, because you clarified ‘’God, not like that. Ummm I meant that it’s a big mattress. There’s enough space for two people to lay down without touching. Plus by the time you get comfortable, I will be dead asleep already.’’

You were wrong. In your own room, your own bed, you were wrong. You had shared it with friends, even a few lovers. But none of them had been as tall as Richie, as broad as him. No matter how any of you moved, there was no way to avoid skin to skin contact. You’re convinced your colleague was too tired of you cause he was fast asleep. Finally you just give up on trying to be comfortable, lay on your stomach and bury your face in the pillow.

 It must have been muscle memory. That was the only rational explanation as to why Richie wakes up in the middle of the night with his hands gripping your ass. He moves them immediately, ready to apologise, to move to the floor, to fucking leave Chicago. You don’t even stir, finally sleeping heavily. He fucking pops a bonner, like he’s 10 years younger than his actual age. Just as he turned away to tuck it into his pants, and you woke up. Thankfully you didn’t scream or kick him out. You just asked ‘’Need a hand?’’

You weren’t sure what came over you. You never thought you would be this bold. But again, there was no rational way to react to your crush touching himself while laying next to you. 

Richie is fucking extatick. But still gentle, having the subtlety you were lacking. The fingers that were on his cock traced over your lips, before he leaned in. His kiss was soft, but needy. Still he wasted no time in pulling you closer to him, rubbing himself against you. Holy shit, the man was hung like a horse. All the rumors about tall men having a third leg certainly were right in his case. You would let yourself be humped by Richie all night, your needy moans muffled by his kisses. He instinctively moves to kiss your neck, nipping at any bare skin he can reach. He thrust against you shallowly and groans.

‘’Tell me what you need, angel. If it’s more, I’ll give it to you. If you want me to stop, fuck I’ll stop. Just please fucking talk to me.’’ 

‘’More, don’t stop. Clothes off, please. Need to feel you.’’ You swear he had a second job as a stripper, because he shed his shirt and pants off in record speed. He’s toned. You let yourself admire his abs for a moment, even this getting to you. You needed to have him and you needed it now. Your hand gingerly place his hand against your pussy, a silent plea to touch you.

‘’You’re fucking drenched, angel. Do I make you this wet? Just from kissing, huh. Can’t wait to see just how sensitive you are. Would you like that?’’ He asked you, a grin on his mouth. 

You nod.

‘’Words, angel. Words, please.’’

‘’Yes Richie, please.’’

That was enough for him to start rubbing your clit, keep you begging and whining. He switches it up curling a finger inside of you and fucking swears. He toys with you, alternating between the two until you come. 

Only then does he get up and reaches for the box. You’re too blissed out to be mortified that he saw your contraceptives. You were too busy wondering how he was gonna use them. He opens the package and doesn’t take his eyes off you as he rolls the condom on his shaft.

Richie Jerimovich is a fucking traditionalist, literally. You were ready to tease him about the missionary, to ask if he could handle it. He took a pillow from next to you and placed it under your hips. No one had done that before, but before you can ask what’s going on he taps the head of his cock against your clit. The first thrust is shallow. But the second one is so deep inside you, that you can’t help but say

‘’Holy shit’’ 

‘’Language, angel’’ You have half a mind to flip him off, but then he moves again and all your thoughts are gone. You had never been this wet before. And he fucking started rubbing your clit in time with his thrust. You can’t help but fucking moan, and along with the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall, it’s a fucking cacaphony. Richie muffles your sounds with his hand.

‘’Let’s not have the whole building know my name, huh angel. After all, if you get a noise complaint now, I’ll have to stop.’’

You whine and that’s all he needs to keep going. Richie feels that you’re close, you were fucking clenching against him. His pace picks up, he’s chasing his own relief. He’s determined to make you come a second time, to show you he’s all about your pleasure. There’s also a little voice in his head, saying that if he orgasms before you, he’s too old for this. Spent, you groan out ‘’Cumming,please’’.

Were you begging for more or for permission, he wasn’t sure. Both options sounded fucking great to him, so he said ‘’That’s it, let go. Such a good fucking girl for me,angel’’.

Usually the girls he’d hook up just mixed in ‘’yes’’ and ‘’fuck’’ when they orgasmed. You fucking managed to say ‘’Richie Jerimovich, you’re a fucking god’’. That’s all he needs to follow suit and come. He rolls off of you, panting and sweaty, ready to throw the used condom in your thrash. You, in all your fucked out naked glory, manage to dart to the bathroom, grab the toilet roll. After he wipes, you return, aiming to avoid a UTI. When you’re back, he’s waiting with his fucking arms draped against your spot, clearly wanting a cuddle. In his arms, you finally managed to get some good sleep. 

Morning comes. Richie stays, because of course he does. It turns out both of you don’t really do this. So it’s a very long and awkward silence before one of you suggests breakfast. While you’re eating, he somehow manages to get himself a free toll from a friend of a friend who owes him. Finally, you manage to say only a portion of what you want, namely

‘’Richie, ummm can we do this again. I think after last night I’ll have to go to the walk in every time you brush past me.’’

‘’Of course, angel. I’m not nearly done with you.’’

You choke on your food, having the feeling that it’s not gonna be the only thing you’d be choking on in the future. God bless Carmen Berzatto and his inability to remember your schedule. 

[taiyeoki]

Kashimo Headcanons

↳ Husband!Kashimo x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: Kashimo being a man being from the Edo period doesn't change the fact that he's a loving husband and a soon to be father for y/n and their upcoming child.

A/N: I am so madly in love with him that I had to make a whole Tumblr account just to put this out there. This is a new account but I've been using Tumblr for years so I know how things work 💀 Except I use chrome so I never had an account. This is just for a personal idea but anyone's free to read! This one doesn't have any smut so it's just a wholesome thing but I'd like to put a warning anyway.

Husband!Kashimo who couldn't believe what he had heard when you announced that you were pregnant. You were sure he'd gone deaf when he needed you to repeat it like four times.

Husband!Kashimo opens the present you gave him. Inside was an adorable baby outfit with a little lightning crochet on the chest. "What's this for?" Instead, you just stared at him with excitement as if you were about to explode into a firework of happiness. With no reply from you, he decided to look back down into the gift box then noticed the pregnancy test with two pink lines on it next to the clothing. Immediately he looked back up at you and you announce, "Hajime guess what?! I'm pregnant!! Uh... Hajime?" He gave no response. He looked so dumbfounded and shocked at the same time you had to take a picture of his reaction.

Husband!Kashimo who finally registers the news and immediately his expression changes to one of absolute happiness. You swear you've never seen him express this much emotion before considering he usually kept an unamused or an angry resting face. His smile is so genuine, smiling ear to ear as he's about to burst into disbelief.

"I'm gonna be a dad?! Are you serious?! It took me 400 years just for this moment!"

Husband!Kashimo immediately tackles you into a hug, both of you laughing in excitement from the news. He snakes his arms around your waist as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Despite having large hands he uses for fights, they're actually pretty soft and gentle as he brings his hand around your belly and caresses it.

"Y/n," he murmurs softly, "love you so much..."

It took forever for him to let go. It's as if you would disappear if he lets go of the hug. You better believe he's gonna watch over you 24/7.

Husband!Kashimo refuses to let you out of his sight. You knew he was protective but now that you were pregnant he'd grown even more protective over you than he already was. You try to reassure him, "Hajime I'm fine! I'm just going to the bathroom okay?" But he just finds reasons to stay with you. "But what if you get your morning sickness again? At least let me accompany you in case anything happens." Or he pulls the "there are curses everywhere" card on you to let him watch over you.

You couldn't deny his requests of staying with you especially after he gave the softest look. Wrapping his muscular arms around you in a loving hug, he nuzzles close into you making sure to warm you up. Eventually you gave in...

Husband!Kashimo feels bad whenever you actually do get the morning sickness. He tries his best to find comfort in anything at all just for your sake. "Y/n are you okay? How are you feeling now? Do you want some tea?" At first he's too old to understand which medicine he should give you. After all, modern medicine never existed back in the 1600. Instead, he tried to soothe you with tea, herbal soups and warm bathes. Eventually though he does manage to understand what medication you should take and provides you with them but he still prefers it the old fashion way.

Husband!Kashimo dotes on you all the time. He makes sure you're always healthy and happy and whenever you're not, he'd be worried sick. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick again? Hey how about I buy you some snacks okay. What are you craving for?" Eventually though you actually do cheer up with how much he keeps spoiling you.

Husband!Kashimo is constantly asking you questions to check in on you, making sure you feel loved and appreciated all the time. "Are you hungry?", "What do you wanna eat?", "do you wanna go out? The sunshine will do you good." "Do you want me to make you some tea?"

Husband!Kashimo refuses to let you get hungry or dehydrated. He makes sure to have you well fed everytime. The food he'd prepare are nutritious and healthy with all the right amounts of everything your body needs. Not too much and not too little. Grabbing a cup of water, he hands it to you, "y/n you need to drink lots. I don't want you or the baby getting sick because you aren't eating or drinking well. You both need all the nutrients and vitamins you can get." If you're planning to diet, be prepared for him to scold you.

"Are you crazy?! Dieting during your pregnancy?! You know what- c'mere. You need to eat now."

Believe it or not, despite being a traditional man from the 1600 Edo period he actually knows how to cook. Husband!Kashimo makes the most comforting food you've ever tasted. Although his cooking style is different, it's because of that which makes his food taste uniquely great. It has a delicious smokey aroma to it. At first he wasn't used to the stove and oven so he'd just cook by the log and fire. He started learning how to operate the stove though because you laughed at him for cooking like a caveman squatting down next to the fire like that.

"Pfft Hajime! You don't know how to use the stove?!" He gives you an unamused pout which you honestly found adorable so you decided to teach him how to cook from the stove. Almost immediately he seemed even better than you do in cooking which has his smug face putting you in shame. He's the one laughing at you now because you forgot you were cooking and burnt the food.

"SHIT," you came back panicking from the smell of smoke coming from the kitchen to see him giving you an unimpressed look as if he's about to lecture you. He already had the kitchen under control the moment you arrive. Giving him a sheepish smile, Kashimo doesn't want you near the fire until the baby is out. "Y/n, I'll do all the cooking now. I don't want you burning anything again. What if you get hurt? Right, that goes for the knives too. Let me do all the work."

Husband!Kashimo reassures you everyday that he loves you. It doesn't matter how you look, whether you get stretch marks or leaking breasts. "Y/n, trust me when I say this. In 400 years of my life you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He caresses your growing belly, keeping you in a warm hug as he nuzzles into you and takes in your scent which he always found to be soothing.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing. I love every single part of you. These stretch marks are a reminder of my love for you; our child. I'm happy to know that you're the one carrying my child."

Husband!Kashimo prefers for you to give birth at home because he thinks it's safer there rather than the hospital. He makes sure to hire the best OBGYN, doctors and midwives to check up on you. He looks at you with genuine care and concern, "Y/n the hospital is full of curses. I don't want you getting into any trouble there. What if our baby gets hurt from them?"

Husband!Kashimo instantly gets alert, sitting straight up and checking on you when you told him your water broke in the middle of the night while you two slept in each other's arms.

"Shit- Hajime wake up! My water broke!"

Good thing he hired the midwives. They were already prepared in advance knowing you were going to give birth soon so neither of you needed to panic into the hospital especially since he couldn't drive. He does try to get a license just for you though so he could help with transportation. Hakari helped Kashimo out too, not trusting him to be completely sane with a car and a driving instructor he might end up beating.

Husband!Kashimo is worried sick and upset that he can't do anything to stop the labour pain. The most he could do now is to try and relieve your pain and stress. Giving you a warm towel, a heating pad, making you some soothing tea, anything at all. It still hurts him though to see you like this.

Husband!Kashimo holds you close to him the moment your delivery is about to arrive. If he's being honest here, he's actually quite scared for you, afraid that anything might go wrong. He stays by your side the entire process, reassuring and motivating you.

"Keep pushing y/n, you're almost there."

"You're doing so well!"

"I'm proud of you and our son/daughter"

Husband!Kashimo lets you use him as a stress reliever. Crushing his arm and hands, he didn't expect you to have this much strength. He tries to calm you down, caressing you reassuringly or wiping sweat off.

The moment your childbirth finally ended, both of you are so happy and exhausted. Husband!Kashimo praises you for doing so good and being so strong. He caresses you, keeping you in a hug wrapped in his loving arms as you feel his tense muscles calm down. For a moment you even forgot about the delivery pain as you got distracted by his muscular body. His large veiny hands pull you close into the crook of his neck all snug, "Hah.. I think you broke my bones."

Well your crushing grip didn't break his bones but he definitely woke up with a bruise the next day.

Husband!Kashimo showers you and your son/daughter with so much love and attention. If he wasn't protective enough before, he definitely was now. In fact he'd be considered as overprotective at this point.

Husband!Kashimo doesn't hire anyone to do the confinement for you. Instead he does it himself, making sure to get you the best natural ingredients. He uses the freshest meat, the highest quality herbs and the finest tea. Surprisingly this ancient man knows a lot about women's healthcare, their pregnancy and confinement. Although he uses the 1600 Edo style rather than the modern one but it gives a unique treatment.

Husband!Kashimo gives you a baby shower consisting of practically everyone you knew from Jujutsu High. Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, Hakari, Kirara, and even the first and second years were there. He's not too fond of people and neither does he really call them friends but he does it just for you. Also he wants to show off his brand new family. It was a sweet heartfelt action which has you falling head over heels for him all over again.

Husband!Kashimo makes sure you get all the rest you need. He knows parenting isn't easy especially for the person who gave birth. Anytime you looked tired to him at all, he'll jump in and tell you he'll watch over your son/daughter even though he was already by your side to take care of the baby. Luckily this man has insane stamina, speed and efficiency to be keeping up with the baby's needs although he does tire out.

Husband!Kashimo showers you both with all his love and attention to the point he forgets he was looking for Sukuna. For a moment he even stops fighting just to take care of you both and make time for his family. The man is a fighter but he knows his priorities. Plus he'd rather leave his family out of his fighting business or he'll never forgive himself if anything were to happen to either you or your son/daughter.

Hugging you close and the baby safely on his lap between you two, Kashimo gives your son/daughter a sweet peck on their forehead as they fall asleep. He then leans in close to you and goes in for a kiss. His gentle, soft and warm lips intertwine with your own as you both share a loving, passionate kiss. Pulling away, he brings you closer to him and you rest your head on his chest. Sighing, he asks just in case, "is anything wrong?"

"Nah. I'm just happy that's all," you reply with an angelic smile looking up at him. His gentle expression smiling down at you with all the love in the world as you bring your hand up to caress his soft cheeks and the lightning marks under his eye which you always found beautiful. He leans into your loving touch, closing his eyes momentarily. Slight sparks of electricity sounded and you know it was a clear indicator of how happy he is right now. Being attached to you and your baby, you could see electricity go from one bun to the other in a mesmerizing pattern.

"Waiting 400 years for this was totally worth it."

Overall husband!Kashimo is a very protective father and husband to you and your baby. He'll do anything it takes to keep you both safe, happy and healthy. If anyone were to even lay a finger on the wife and son/daughter of Edo period's strongest sorcerer, you better believe they won't even get a chance to see their life flash before their eyes with Kashimo's lightning speed ending everything in an instant.

[petitelepus]

Could you write a Yandere Muichiro (Aged up) x Fem Reader, where she had escaped almost an entire year ago, changing her appearance completely and working a job where she cannot be recognized. But of course, she wouldn't run away forever, and Muichiro finds her, I wonder what would happen after the recapture.

Summary: You escaped from your captor Muichiro exactly one year ago. You crafted yourself a brand new life, but can you ever truly escape?

Warnings: YANDERE, STALKING, EMOTIONAL AND MENTAL MANIPULATION

A/N: Fem!Reader, Adult!Muichiro

It has been a year since that fateful night when Mucihiro, your friend, your lover, your captor, and your stalker had forgotten to lock the door to your room that worked as your prison. You had gotten a chance to escape and you greedily took it.

That night you drew out all your money from your bank accounts and left town with the first train, making sure to use cash so Muichiro wouldn't have been able to track your card's transaction.

You weren't an expert, but you had seen enough movies to know what to do and what to avoid to keep yourself from being caught.

You did everything in your might to avoid your former friend and protect yourself and the new life you had built around you.

You adopted a new name, cut your hair, dyed it, and changed your whole dressing style and even the way you spoke. You were ready to do anything to keep that man from finding you and locking you up ever again.

You were a humble office lady, working quietly in your own little space that you could decorate any way you liked… But to make sure that your interests weren't leaked to social media, you left your workplace as it was, plain and boring.

"Good job today!" Your co-worker smiled as he walked up to your spot.

"Thank you," You nodded, "Job well done, right?"

"Right!" He laughed, "Listen, we're going to go out to drink and wanted to invite you to join us?"

"I-!"

In your previous life, you would have happily taken a chance to let loose and talk with your friends and co-workers, but in this life, you were a loner with no real social life.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to finish this thing…" You shook your head, "Maybe next time?"

"Alright then," The man gave up and left. You watched after him as he joined his friends by the doorway and you sighed before turning to look at your computer again. It was already late and the sun was setting, it was time to go to your apartment.

Yes, it was an apartment, not a home. Home was where the heart was and yours wasn't there. You weren't sure where it was… Maybe it got left behind when you escaped or fell off somewhere along the ride.

Either way, you packed your things and left the office. The walk back home was quiet, except for people walking and talking around you. You blended into the crowd like a ninja, but you didn't feel anywhere near that cool.

You made it to your little apartment complex, took an elevator to your floor, and let yourself into your apartment with the keys. You flicked the lights on as you closed the door and you sighed, leaning against the door and slumping down until you sat on the floor.

Even your apartment was empty, save for the bland couch, bed, TV, and computer. You didn't have the strength or energy to care… But these days made you miss your real home, your friends and your old job.

Hell, you almost missed Muich-!

No! That man locked you into his home and didn't let you go! He claimed that he loved you…

"But who locks up their loved one…" You muttered quietly by yourself…

"A man who knows best."

Your eyes widened and your flight or fight instincts flared as you registered the familiar voice that you thought you had forgotten long ago.

You turned and saw him, Muichiro standing at the corner of your room, looking at you. How you didn't notice him until now? He was always light on his feet, silent as a cat.

"Hello, dear-!" He was greeting you when you grabbed your umbrella from the floor next to you and pointed it at him, "S- Stay away!"

"Dear-!"

"Don't call me that!" You scrambled back until your back hit the wall. You grounded your teeth together, "You don't get to call me that!"

"Please, calm down," The young man smiled, "Put that umbrella down so we can talk."

"H- How did you find me!?" You totally ignored his plead and he sighed, "You were always a stubborn one."

"Answer the damn question!"

"Well… To start with, did you really think you could escape from me?" Muichiro smiled, "The only reason you got this far is because I allowed you to."

"T- That's not true-!"

"I'm always one step ahead of you." He said as he bolted and you yelped, raising your umbrella but as you were about to hit him, he caught the thing easily and threw it across the room, leaving you helpless before him.

"Please don't be afraid," He smiled as he offered his hand to you, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Y- You aren't…?" You asked, your body tense with fear, but he just smiled sweetly at you, "Have I ever raised my hand against you?"

He had not… But he had messed with your head before so you couldn't let your guard down around him.

"Please, let's talk." He said as he moved his hand towards you, but you smacked it away and got up on your own.

"Say what you want and then get the fuck out…!" You hissed and the young man nodded, "Alright. I came to bring you back home."

"I knew it!" You pointed at him accusingly, "Forget it, I'm not coming back!"

"Why?" He seemed honestly confused like he had forgotten that he had locked you into your room and never let you out without him by your side, holding your hand as if it was a sweet gesture but you knew better.

"Why!?" You frowned, "Did you forget what you did to me!?"

"I took care of you and kept you safe?"

"Being locked inside didn't keep me safe but miserable!"

"I see…" Muichiro nodded thoughtfully, "I can see the point in your view. But how has your life been without me?"

"Bette-!" You were saying when you froze, dread creeping up from behind you and stilling you. You felt anxious as you thought back at the last year of your life and it made your heart ache in your chest.

Muichiro saw your reaction and nodded, "I always knew where you were… I've been watching you for quite some time already."

"Y- You knew?" You were shocked, "You knew where I was all this time?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Wh- why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you wait this long…?"

"I just gave you a taste of how dull your life would be without me in it." Muichiro tilted his head as he looked at you, "You are miserable, aren't you?"

"I- I-!" You couldn't reply, not when you knew that he was right and you hated more than anything admitting to him that he was right, as usual.

"Is life really worth living if you have to be someone you are not?" He asked and anger flared inside you, "It's better than being your prisoner!"

"You were never my prisoner," Muichiro shook his head, "You're an indoor cat, not an outdoor cat. You were safe inside."

"I'm not a cat!" You cried out in frustration, "And you just can't treat me like one!"

"But aren't you tired of living this way?" He sounded genuinely confused, "Running, hiding, and denying yourself from being you?"

"I don't…!" You swallowed, feeling yourself grow desperate, "It's all your fault!"

"I love you, I always have and always will. So I've come to you with a proposition."

"W- what is it?"

"If you come back kindly and peacefully, I will make sure that you can live your life to the fullest with me by your side."

"I'm..!" You swallowed nervously again, trying to find reasons to refuse, "I'm not the person I was back then…!"

"I have changed also," He smiled, "For example, I didn't like how that man spoke so familiarly with you, but did I hurt him? No, I let him go because I know you only have a spot in your heart for me."

"Y- you saw that?" You were truly horrified, but the young man didn't seem to mind it, "As I said, I've been watching you and I've seen how miserable you have been."

"I'm…" You frowned as you felt the heartache in your chest as if a cold hand was squeezing your heart. It left you nearly breathless as you tried to calm yourself down, but you just grew more and more anxious.

"I knew it," Muichiro nodded, "So I've come to you with a proposition."

"Wh- what is it?" You looked at him uncertainly as you frowned, and he smiled so gently you almost forgot how sinister he could actually be when he wanted to, "I love you and never want to be separated from you ever again… And therefore, I'm ready to put this all behind us so we can start anew."

"W- Wha-!?" You were so shocked you felt it in your bones.

"Marry me." He said and he sounded so genuine as he knelt before you and grasped your hand, "Marry me and come back with me and I promise, you can be yourself and we can be together and love each other unconditionally."

"B- But, I-!" You stuttered, your mind feeling like it had been shuffled and your feelings were all over the place. Your mind was a mess and you couldn't tell if you Muichiro was being genuine and if you were actually in danger or not.

That was one of his traits you hated, making you question your own feelings and such…

"I love you." He said as he gently kissed your hand, "Give me a chance and I'll show you truly how much I care for you."

"I…" You swallowed as you succumbed to your feelings, "I love you too."

"That's all I wanted to hear," The man smiled as he got up and pulled a gorgeous diamond ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your left ring finger, making you briefly wonder how he knew your exact ring size?

"Now…" He kissed your forehead, "Let's head back home."

[vashtijoy]

I was wondering if it is possible that the surname "Akechi" is actually a pseudonym/alias . . . like, his celebrity name, and not the surname of his mother. I don't think the game ever hints at it but it came to me because Dietman and the Silent Requester uses the alias concept and my brain kinda automatically assumes everything in that mission has some kind of parallel to Akechi himself, and because it would make sense to use a different name (that he chose for himself) from his mother for his Detective Prince image, honestly. Do you think that's possible?

This is a fun one, but for myself, I think it probably isn't that likely. Ditto the idea that Akechi is mukoseki (essentially, unregistered at birth, which would have put him at a very significant disadvantage).

Akechi obviously has a life beside what we see. He's registered in high school and is participating in university entrance, all of which he might struggle to access if he was unregistered; he's presumably registered as "Akechi Goro" and not a second name unknown to us. He's remarkably high-achieving, which tells us that he hasn't just been parachuted into a (probably private, as he makes a big deal of earning his school fees) high school post-Shido; he was likely in a good middle school before that, through his own efforts. He tells us he obsessed about his grades so someone would want him. School will have been a big deal for him—up to a point.

He must have been registered with a doctor at some point, and so on. He will have taken standardised tests in elementary and middle school, and those tests will have needed a name, and have gone on file. By the point of canon, he's taken the national mock exams. By the time he's in high school, people do not know that he's an orphan, that he was an unwanted child, that he never had a father—he's successfully hidden it all. Which is a story in itself, if you ask me; a story which might suggest a successful change of identity—or simply that he got into private school, perhaps on a scholarship, and never told anyone his history. Yusuke mentions that his Kosei scholarship entitles him to a free place in a dorm; I like to think that Akechi, in middle school, may have benefited from something like this.

He also works in multiple fields—he must get paid by someone, even if Shido isn't paying him a yen. So he must have a bank account; he must pay tax on that income—two things Shido might certainly be able to help him with, if he saw fit. But even if Shido gave him the apartment he lives in and a credit card for his day-to-day expenses, there's still a lot going on, that that alias would have to take into account.

Shido is capable of a lot, but Akechi can't ask Shido for help establishing his anti-Shido alias; that would ruin the plot. He could, perhaps, strongarm people's shadows into doing things for him, changing things, forgetting him; we know he interrogates them. We never see him do any of that, but you could easily hypothesise it, and I wouldn't put it past him at all.

But in the days before the Metaverse, Akechi already has a lot of paperwork pointing to him; he's not a ghost, he hasn't fallen between the cracks; he's a boy with a life and a history. He's not somebody who can just start going by a different name—not without it raising questions, and drawing attention. Not without people looking up years later, when he's on TV, and saying "hey, that's <name>".

but mom

It seems to me that Akechi is just going by the same name he's had all along, perhaps because some part of him wants Shido to know who he is, perhaps because it's his mother's name, it's his name, and he doesn't want to cast it aside. But then why doesn't Shido recognise his name, like he recognises his face?

It's often said that Shido just doesn't remember people, but in fact he remembers Joker's name—he remarks on it when he sees the death certificate, though he doesn't know where he's heard it. He is doing the same thing Joker is, when he knows Shido's face, his voice, but can't place them.

My suspicion is that Shido just never knew Akechi's mother's name, and that Akechi knows that was the case, and why it would be the case. I think she was a sex worker all along, and that Shido was one of her clients; that, perhaps with the charm and cleverness her son would later show, she wormed her way into his good graces, as much of a mixed blessing as that would have been.

Akechi does not really say, for instance, that his mother and Shido "had a relationship"; he uses the word aijin, which is much more like a mistress, or plaything. Some boys at Shujin talk about how Shiho is going to be Kamoshida's next aijin after Ann. Shadow Okumura suggests to Cognitive Sugimura that he make Haru his aijin—"just take her as your lover". A couple of women on Harmony Alley laugh about becoming the aijins of politicians so they can be spoiled rotten. And Akechi says that his mother and Shido had an aijin kankei—an aijin relationship; she was his mistress, and when she became pregnant, she was dropped like a hot potato.

Akechi's mother might well have used a name that wasn't her own, for her work. She might well have gone only by a given name. That seems more likely to me than Akechi setting one up for himself.

is it a stagename?

One thing makes it very clear that "Akechi Goro" is not a stagename, even if it is an alias: Akechi is not famous at the start of canon, and so he has no need for a stagename. We watch the Detective Prince develop in realtime. And Sae, who's clearly known him awhile, knows him as Akechi; he hasn't adopted a different name for the screen.

could you do it anyway :|a

Absolutely. Go wild. You don't even have to think about this shit if you don't want to. That said, if I was writing this, I would probably face tweeny Goro with at least a few of these issues.

[jess-moloney]

Open statement to Jess because she's probably reading this blog:

Going back and hiding things everyone already knows you've done is kind of pointless because it's already documented on this blog. People can see that it happened, people already know that it happened. The big question is, why do you think you can hide it and why are you hiding it if what you did wasn't as nefarious as it seems to be?

I struggled to find any reason why you continue with this when it's been exposed and it's not going away. Your best bet is to just come clean with what everyone knows now.

We know that you don't have a license to be a talent manager in California or New York. That's easily proven by looking it up on the internet because they have registries for that.

We know that your business in the UK was never registered as a talent agency (when it should have been) because there's public information about that and it's on the forms you filled out and submitted.

We know that you haven't updated your website since 2019 which gives every indication that you do not run a thriving talent agency. Anyone who had a successful business would keep their website and contact details updated.

We know that you can't possibly have anything successful going on in any business you claim to own or co-own because you made your Instagram account private. Who has a private business account on IG when part of their business is also marketing and promotion? Who are you promoting anything to if your account is private? Why do you only promote the same two people over and over again if you have so many clients? If you are who you say you are?

We know that when you started "working with Renell" you were no more than her personal assistant and answering emails for her (you said so yourself in an interview) and there's really never been any indication more than that on what you've done for her. There's definitely not any indication you know anything about marketing enough to also have earned a degree in it.

So, you are at a point where if you want anything to be done you need to prove everyone wrong. Going back and unliking posts or hiding behind a private account only serves to make the information on this blog look entirely correct. Which is also a bad look for you. You'd be better off coming clean about this stuff instead of trying to bury it (again) like you did with the Liam Payne information.

Now, I've always admitted that I don't know a lot of things and that it's possible that I am wrong. I'm open to being proven wrong as well. There are many different things you could do (and could have done in the past) to prove me wrong but you haven't. Well, now is the time to do something about it if you're so hell-bent on having your name cleared because otherwise, right now you look exactly how this blog portrays you to be. You do know that, right?

Though I suppose you'd want to avoid contacting me directly, that's certainly an option but since I don't see that happening, you still do have your social media to prove me wrong. Prove everyone wrong, and yet you don't do that for some reason. Is it because you can't? Well, I guess I'd suggest that you start doing it now if you want to save face because if you don't then no one is going to have any reason to believe that you aren't anything other than a manipulative con-artist.

Quite frankly, I'd love to be proven wrong about what is going on because I'd hope and pray that Jamie didn't get involved with someone as seemingly awful as you but the cards have fallen where they fell and it's your job to either pick them up or leave them where they are because everything else you are doing to try to hide from this information is not helping your cause.

[cheritzteam]

[The Ssum] A Closer Look at <The Ssum : Forbidden Lab>’s v1.1.0 Update

Hello, dear lab participant!

We’ve prepared for you new relationships, an even more efficient subscription model, and a variety of events!

Spend your year’s end with The Ssum v1.1.0 Update♡

===

> Your new special ssum-one “Harry”

The Lab’s search for your destined one has borne its fruits and we have discovered a new match, Harry🐴(CV. Lim Juwan)!

(Rumors say that lab participants who’ve matched with him by the 14th of December, KST will get a chance to win The Ssum Matching Event…!)

For existing lab participants who are curious about your new match, go to [Profile].

Tapping the button next to your current match’s profile picture will let you check your other match.

Worried that you’ll lose ties with your previous match? Don’t worry about a thing!

When you change your current match, your previous match will stay frozen in time. If you return to the same time slot as where you have left, you won’t miss a single memory with your special ssum-one.

For new lab participants, we’ve revised the study environment so you’ll be able to choose between your two matches with the help of PIU-PIU at the start of the game. You’ll be able to change your match from Day 2 onwards, so choose your first one wisely!

> In-game Seasonal Content

Spend your special days with your special ssum-one every year🎉

Starting with Harry’s birthday that’s coming up soon, you’ll be able to enjoy Seasonal Content and Events in The Ssum app.

Seasonal Content will be unlocked depending on the timezone registered in your account, so you’ll be able to enjoy them without having to calculate the time.

Additionally, don’t miss out on events on Cheritz's social media!

*Seasonal Content celebrating lab participants’ birthdays will be unlocked from the 1st of January, 2023 onwards.

> New subscription model “PIU-PIU Plus”

For those of you who had felt that our existing subscription models(Aurora and Rainbow) were a bit too much for you, we’ve added a new efficiency-centric subscription model, after long hours of deep research!✏

PIU-PIU Plus offers :

Unlimited image downloads📸

100% success rate for I Can See Your Voice💬

40 Secondary Batteries per day🔋

Neutralizing of Ad Antennas (+Free Emotion Energy charging)📡

Free rental of Typing Expert License⌨

Enjoy a more comfortable study experience for the low price of $7.99 monthly($0.27/day)!

> Twitter Retweet Event: Share news on our update!

We’re holding an event on Cheritz’s official Twitter(@Cheritz_DL)!

Retweet the tweet on our update to get a chance to win app store gift cards📢

How to participate

Follow Cheritz’s official Twitter(@Cheritz_DL) ☑

Retweet the tweet on the update 🔁

Event period: 30/11/2022 ~ 13/12/2022 (KST)

Follow Cheritz’s other social media as well! Check out The Ssum’s official Instagram where we present you videos of your special ssum-one every week!

> ~Spreading The Ssum~ Raffle Event

~Spreading The Ssum~ Raffle Event is back!

To celebrate the matching of our new special ssum-one, our event will be focused on Harry this time!

Post your thoughts and opinions on Harry with the hashtag #TheSsum_Harry on your social media, and submit the link through the in-game event page.

7 lucky lab participants will win the following prize:

PIU-PIU’s Love Bundle💌, which will help you enjoy The Ssum even more

100 Aurora Batteries✨, that Harry’s PIU-PIU worked hard to gather

Lab participants who had already participated in the event before the update will be provided with 5 Aurora Batteries once more for this occasion.

Make sure you enter your link before the event ends!

Event period: 30/11/2022 ~ 30/12/2022 (KST)

===

We hope you’re all as excited as we are!

Please look forward to the future of <The Ssum : Forbidden Lab> for more to come!

-Cheritz-

[grumpybunny-edith]

Edith Tries To Get Her Hormones (Chapter 1)

“That’s a joke, right?” I asked, eyeing the number on the register anxiously. My wallet had never felt lighter in my pocket than looking at the price I was being asked to pay for my Lagomorphine. 

“$326 is the price,” said the pharmacist. 

“Could you at least —”

“Run it through your insurance? Did that already,” she said offhandedly, pushing her glasses up and looking down at the computer away from me. The silence between us did its best to hold out against the kitschy music of the pharmacy. An old man sat in a chair near the register; I heard him arguing with them when I walked in, and he was now just waiting on his prescription as he poked at his phone. He kept looking up at me, his eyes falling on the ears and tail I can’t hide, not caring to look away when I caught him. 

“Why isn’t it covered? It was before,” I asked, punching the panic in my voice down. 

“The system said this administration method isn’t covered,” she said, tapping at a key on her keyboard boredly. “If you were taking the pill version, it’d be fine. Injections can also be covered to a point.”

For the first month and a half of my treatment I noticed almost no changes. I had to increase my dose to accommodate it, but that dose would’ve shot my liver, so we did injections. I got as far as halfway through doing one myself when I found out that was definitely, a thousand percent not gonna work for me. So, patches have been literally the only way for me to take the dose I need. As the fur started growing on my upper legs I’ve had to shave a little rectangle to stick them to. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Why’d they suddenly stop covering it?” 

The pharmacist just shrugged. “If you have questions, take it up with your insurance company.” 

I heard footsteps across the pharmacy, the tiny shink of things being pulled off the walls, the sliding noises of boxes moving off of metal shelves. I felt the shadow of someone behind me, my heart kicking itself into gear in case I need to make a break for it. The sliding doors and the little bing of the bell when somebody entered them cut through it all once every handful of seconds. The whole place felt alive with movement, people getting exactly what they needed while I stayed right where I was, rotting. When the pharmacist spoke again it came with the tick of her nails against the contact paper desk and a frustrated bite of her incisors.

“Will that be cash or card today?” 

I sigh. “Lemme check.” I already knew cash was off the table, so I pulled my phone from my back pocket to check my bank account. This was less to see how much I had and more to look like I was at all interested in or capable of paying that much. In doing so, the question was staring me in the face; do I keep my money so I have a place to live, or do I spend it so I have a reason to? 

“Sir, there are other people in line,” said the pharmacist, sounding unhelpful. I wanted to clap back with something like “yeah, I can see that”, but I was a gross combination of scared and embarrassed that made me want to leave as quickly as I possibly could. 

I stomped my foot. It was involuntary, but in the way of ‘I felt my body want to do this and decided not to stop it’. The old man in the chair beside me smirked; it was like I could hear the skin on his face contorting. 

“Guess I’ll talk to my insurance company,” I said. I could spare the dollar for an Arizona on the way out.

The summer sun burns straight through my clothes. Dressing for the season, in theory, isn't hard; there’s just something about going to pick up my drugs that makes me want to hide as much of myself as I can. Sure, the fur on my thighs and butt make wearing jeans in this heat excruciating, but it’s better than letting everyone see how well the drugs have been working. I considered wearing a beanie too, something I could fit my ears under, but I was worried they’d catch fire under all that heat. And I like how they look, or whatever, now that fur had grown on their ends.

I walked out to my bike, throwing my black denim jacket off my shoulders and into my backpack. I hoped I’d feel some kind of breeze on the patches of fur on my shoulders, but when the wind blew it was with sickening humid heat. I pulled off my mask, desperate to stop sweating into it so much, and let the small bit of fur around my nose feel the gross air. 

“No fucking clue what happens next,” I whined to myself, not cognizant of other people in the parking lot. My phone buzzed as I got on my bike.

pink-lightning: Hey everyone. Embarrassing thing — I took my shot early this week, and I can feel my heat starting early. I know we made the schedule for this weekend already, but is anyone gonna be available tomorrow morning? 

I was supposed to be with Ashley that weekend. I had no other reason I couldn’t show up — no job meant my schedule was pretty open. 

raeraebun: oof, sorry! im working in the morning :(( good luck and i hope it goes ok

thebuildingisonfire: I can’t come either. I had to pick up the morning tomorrow bc my trainer is getting a tattoo that afternoon 

wen-kutesuli: School ✊😔 Also I don’t know if I have the capacity for that right now anyway

pink-lightning: That’s totally okay, please don’t feel like you have to force yourself. Literally ever. 

I didn’t have to. Hell, Ashley probably wouldn’t want me to have said what I did if I didn’t want to. And it’s not like I didn’t want to. I didn’t know how I was going to manage without the libido, but I’d figure it out.

grumpybunny-edith: I can! Just lmk when

---

Prev - Next

This story is a spinoff of the series Gwen's Bunny HRT. To learn more about the setting and characters, check my pinned post here!

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (redux) (5)

warnings: misunderstandings/miscommunication, assumption of harm/abuse, references to starvation and blood, food, drug mentions, unreliable narrator is particularly strong in this one

-

When Virgil next woke, it was to a low and melodic humming.

The drugs had clearly worn off, going by how terrible he felt just laying there. He suspected the pain might have actually been what had woken him.

His breathing automatically shifted to something shallower, attempting to keep from putting pressure on the huge bruise that was his ribcage. The humming paused for a brief moment, before resuming.

So, they’d wised up and actually started guarding their captive. They must not have been expecting him to be so active last time, probably believing the tranquilizer would have a heavier effect.

Of course, that meant that they’d adjust the dosage to account for his resistance next time. Damn, he shouldn’t have played that card so early.

Figuring he’d already been caught out, Virgil cracked open an eye.

He was in the same spot, on the same couch. Roman was sitting in the nearby armchair, which had been turned slightly so that it was facing the couch more directly.

The hum was coming from him, a cheerful tune that had completely concealed the soft sursur of a polishing cloth against metal.

The runes on the hunting sword weren’t activated, but the hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck abruptly prickled anyhow, a chill running down his spine.

Roman glanced over at him without pausing his polishing, completely casual about the threat implied in each careful motion. “You’re awake! I’d say good morning, but we’re nearly at sunset now.”

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the blade, not even to confirm that he’d slept another day away. He felt as though the moment he glanced away, he’d look back to find the point of that sword buried deep in his chest.

He’d expected they’d try to get him to shift as soon as possible, but somehow, he hadn’t expected them to threaten him physically. They had to know he would call their bluff, didn’t they? No matter how much they might not want a monster under their roof, human greed superseded hatred, and killing him now would be like throwing gold down a bottomless well.

His mouth felt glued shut when he swallowed, unwilling to let a single syllable through. He reached for his earlier bravado, his miserable confidence that death would be better than being caught, and found the bitter bravery rang hollow in the face of that singing metal.

The human’s hand had paused mid-swipe on the blade. When Virgil forced his eyes to flicker upwards, he found that Roman was staring at him with a distinct wrinkle to his brow.

He jolted upon making eye contact, and then tried for an uncertain smile.

“No need to worry,” he said, shifting the blade up slightly. “This is for Patton, not you.”

The words took a moment to register, but when they did, they landed sharper than any slap. Virgil felt the blood drain from his face quickly enough to leave him dizzy.

His humans were— they were different, weren’t they? Surely, they wouldn’t go so far as to punish Patton just because he’d been taken hostage, not when they’d all failed to contain him in the end.

So why? Sure, Virgil had threatened— threatened with that, but Roman had been watching so closely, he must know that Virgil hadn’t actually bitten Patton. Except. Some hunters believed any physical wound inflicted by a shifter was ‘infected’. How tightly had he gripped the human before? Had his nails bitten into clothing, or skin?

The memories were fuzzy, hazed over by adrenaline and drugs alike. He wasn’t sure.

“He’s not– he’s not,” Virgil started, and the words caught and tangled in the back of his throat like barbed wire. He yanked his arms free of the blanket tucked around him and pushed himself further upright to meet Roman’s gaze more directly. “I didn’t turn him. He’s not turned.”

In the back of his mind, a familiar refrain: Don’t kill him. Please don’t kill him.

Roman visibly reeled back, his grip on the sword’s hilt tightening in surprise, and then he let go of the blade altogether, leaving it balanced delicately across his lap, polishing cloth still folded over it.

“No! I mean, I– I know that, not that it would– even if he–,” He cut himself off, took a breath, and tried again. “I was only joking. I would never threaten Patton with any sort of violence, sword-inflicted or otherwise, even if he is atrociously bad at remembering that he is injured and should be avoiding straining himself as much as possible.”

Even with the emphasis, his voice was more exasperated than truly angry, and there was no sign of deceit in his manner. Patton was fine, Virgil had just– overreacted.

He needed to calm down. Hunters or not, there was no point putting ideas in their heads. He tried to force his body to relax, to ease away the tension that so visibly lined his frame, with little success.

Patton was safe, but he obviously wasn’t off-limits for violent threats, after all.

“Right. Well. How are your wounds?” Roman asked, apparently having correctly inferred that Virgil wasn’t much of a conversationalist. “We can’t give you any more pain medicine, not without risk of making things worse, but nothing should be debilitating. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t tear more stitches.”

He’d forgotten about his injuries amidst the sudden rush of terror, but sure enough, his side still felt awful. It was like he’d gone a round with a magically-corrupted grizzly bear or something.

Virgil slumped back against the couch to try and relieve some of the pain, but kept his jaw clenched shut. There was no point in them knowing how well he was healing, and he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them which wounds were the worst off. Those were the most painful places to be hit.

There was another long stretch of quiet, and Roman let out a gusty sigh, lifting his hand up— Virgil barely concealed his flinch— and running it haphazardly through his hair.

“Look,” he started, leaning forwards, “I’m not sure what you—,”

“Dinner is ready,” said Logan, who had appeared in the doorway between one blink and the next. “How is— oh.”

Roman jumped, like he’d been caught red-handed, but Logan’s gaze had already flicked over to Virgil. “Good evening. It’s encouraging to see you awake. Do you feel up to walking? I am more than capable of carrying you again if not.”

“Don’t touch me,” Virgil snapped on automatic, too consumed by the phantom memory of that odd burning sensation to hold his tongue.

“Alright,” Logan said simply, not a single hint of temper at the attitude. Somehow, the absence felt almost more frightening. “We normally take meals in the kitchen area, down the hall here, but since we have two injured parties, the sitting room will work as an acceptable substitute.”

“I’ll get Patton!” Roman volunteered, having subtly kicked his sword under his chair midway through the conversation.

“Get the sheath for your blade while you’re at it,” Logan replied dryly. “Patton will have your head if you get sword polish on the rug again.”

“I was careful!” Roman protested, but he kicked his blade up into his hand as he fled from the room regardless.

Virgil barely resisted the urge to stare after him, bewildered that he’d gotten through the encounter without a single cut. Maybe Logan hadn’t been made aware of the plan to threaten him, and his unexpected arrival had interrupted it…? Or maybe it was a planned entrance, and this was a psychological tactic meant to stress him out.

Virgil sighed. Maybe Roman was just too hungry to postpone dinner. There was no point dwelling on it.

“I’ll be back momentarily,” Logan told him before leaving as well, completely scrapping Virgil’s earlier prediction of a constant watcher.

They were still underestimating him, probably assuming the ward had demoralized him. He hadn’t ruined all his chances of escape, after all.

He barely had time to try and assess the room more clearly before Logan returned, an impressive amount of dishware balanced in his arms. He spent a few concentrated moments setting them all down on the low table and then rose to his feet and left the room again without a word, an air of distraction about him.

Virgil glanced between the dishes set out, wishing his sense of smell wasn’t quite so good. Just as he’d forgotten his pain until Roman had asked after it, he’d forgotten how hungry he was until there was food in front of him.

He wasn’t dumb enough to think it was for him, of course. Even though they hadn’t said anything yet, he had a fair idea of what the humans were playing at.

He knew how to count, after all, and he could plainly see that there were only three of each dish set out. It was another incentive to shift, one that had been used against him before. They’d wait until he was starved, he expected, and then offer him raw meat, or some other carrion that only a wolf could eat.

It was a little cruel of them to eat right in front of him, going so far as to move their normal dining location, but he couldn’t deny that it was an effective tactic. The sharp ache in his side had already been joined by a dull pang in his stomach.

There was a breadbasket, there in the middle of everything. The tops of each roll were shiny with butter, but if he grabbed one from the sides, it probably wouldn’t leave a trace on his hands.

… What were the odds that they’d counted how many rolls were in there?

By the time Roman swept back into the room with an amused Patton in his arms, Virgil was carefully arranged in the same exact position as before, and the warm roll in his hoodie pocket was well-concealed by the folds of the blanket still draped partially over him.

Patton was deposited on the plush armchair closest to the fireplace, and he offered Virgil a smile as he carefully propped his injured leg up on a stack of hand-embroidered pillows.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized. “We’ve normally got things a little more put together than this, but I was relegated to potato peeling duty after I dropped half the silverware while trying to set the table. Turns out holding plates and crutches is a recipe for dish-aster!”

Roman groaned theatrically from where he was arranging everything out on the table, but he was still exceedingly gentle with the tray he set on Patton’s lap, an artful arrangement of silverware on either side of the meal. “You already murdered two of our poor plates, now you have to slander their good names with puns?”

Patton laughed, and said something else, but Virgil was having a hard time registering the words through the low ringing in his ears.

It was so strange, watching them joke around and chat casually, as if nothing was wrong. With the hunters, there had always been an air of impatience or malice, a sick glee in making him suffer.

His humans weren’t acting like that, but there wasn’t a trace of uncertainty in their manner, either. It was as though this was just another day for them, as though they’d always been capable of doing something like this, so much so that it was an unremarkable event.

It wasn’t the outright hatred of before, but it still felt bad in a different way.

“Sir Wolf?” Roman’s voice broke through the haze in his mind, and his head jolted up slightly as he realized the name was meant to refer to him.

It was certainly nicer than some of the things he’d been called.

The two humans were looking at him with open concern, Patton leaning towards him as far as he could without unbalancing his tray.

“Hey, kiddo. Are you back with us?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him strangely for a moment— he hadn’t gone anywhere— and then was immediately, sharply distracted by a hand moving closer in the corner of his vision.

He flinched back, hard enough to make his injuries twinge, and the room went quiet for a beat.

“My apologies,” Roman said, his tone subdued. “I only meant to check your temperature; sometimes infected wounds can cause fevers and disorientation.”

“We won’t ever hit you, kiddo,” Patton swore firmly, and the pity in his voice rankled against Virgil, like a hand scrubbing his fur the wrong way.

How could they sit here and pretend to be soft, when they were so willing to hurt him in other, more insidious ways? He clenched his fists, teeth digging into the edge of his lip, but before he could spit out the acid words building on the back of his tongue, Logan appeared in the doorway again.

“Apologies for the wait,” he said, carrying a fourth tray in his hands. He shot a sharp glance at the other two, making them recede from their hovering with sheepish expressions, and stepped close enough to extend the tray out in offering.

Virgil stared at the normal, delicious-looking food in front of him, bewildered. There was no rotting carrion or raw, bloody meat. In fact, the only difference between the dishes set out on the table and the tray being offered to him was that the food was already portioned, rather than in large dishes to serve oneself.

“I’ve added a few malnutrition aids, and they’re most effective when freshly brewed, hence the delay,” Logan continued, still patiently holding the tray out. “I’m entirely confident that they will help– at worst, they’ll do nothing– but if it would put you more at ease, I can sample the food myself.”

They’d dosed it with something. Something that wasn’t immediately fatal enough that they were willing to ‘sample’ it to prove it was ‘safe’. Or, they’d realized he really wasn’t going to shift to heal and were offering genuine health-aiding tinctures to speed up the process.

Better to figure out which it was now. Besides, even drug-laced food was food, and it was in his best interest to play along until he had an actual plan to escape.

He took the tray without protest, half-expecting it to be yanked away the entire time, and settled it across his lap.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s eat!”

Patton smiled at him, and suddenly, the gesture didn’t feel false and insincere. His previous anger had melted away in the face of his confusion and, admittedly, his relief that he would get food at all.

Virgil swallowed, and ducked his head to stare at his tray instead of the others’ faces.

Those feelings were dangerous. Just because they weren’t as bad as the hunters in one specific way didn’t mean he could trust them. Not even if he wanted to. Especially not if he wanted to.

It was beginning to seem like remembering that was going to be harder than he’d thought.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

the lingerie fic got me HOOKED, pls do more 😭

ℒ𝒾𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℯℯ

Warnings- nothing really, Luke steals a card from some perv, lingerie shopping w/ lukey pookie ™️

Part 1, part 2

Your hands were laced together as you walked through the mall. You decided to take him with you this summer, outside of camp.

He always had stayed the full term at camp. You once in a while left, like last summer when you bought the lingerie he oh so still loved.

Now, you were showing him things he had forgotten about after being at camp for so long.

You practically squealed as soon as you saw the Victoria’s Secret. You dragged him in, and he just rolled with it.

As a kid, he felt like it was illegal. Now here you were, dragging him into one with a large smile on your face.

“Okay, you have to help me pick some out.” You said, eyes landing on some sets already. Now that, he could most definitely do.

You went quickly to where you knew all the cute sets would be, grabbing some off the racks and holding them up to him.

“What do you think?” You asked him, but he always had the same response.

“You look good in anything.”

“You’re not helpful.” You pouted, putting it up. “But, that’s not my color anyways.”

He held the basket for you, as you threw some things in. You found a cute pink one that he knew would look the best on you, it had little flowers embroidered on it.

“Okay… so, which ones do I put up now?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because, I’m not trying to waste all my money here.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He held up a card, that he most definitely snatched from someone.

“Luke Castellan! Did you steal that?” You whisper yelled at him.

He shrugged, “might’ve.”

“From who?”

“Some guy who kept staring at you.”

“Luke…” you groaned.

“What? He kept looking at your ass! I think he deserved it. By the looks of him, he’s loaded.” He held his hands up in defense, and you just shook your head, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

“Why are you like this?”

“I am the son of the god of thieves, aren’t I?”

You laughed quietly, and he smirked, you both made your way to the cash register. He slid the card in, almost feeling bad for the guys bank account as he saw the number.

Then it asked for the pin, he thought for a moment and typed in 1234. And somehow, it worked.

You held 2 bags in your hands while he held 6 in his, as soon as you both left the store you left laughing loudly.

“How did you manage to do that?”

He laughed along “His pin was 1234. Idiot.” He mumbled. You gave him another kiss on the cheek.

“Well, thank you, my little thief.”

“Anything for you. As long as I’m able to see these all on you.”

“Duh, who else would I have to model for?”

[theoddcatlady]

Problem Child

TW: Child Abuse

As a social worker, you’re bound to come across some really messed up stuff. I’ve been at this job for nearly twelve years and I’ve seen everything. Joel was raised in a kennel with a dog, he were so small I thought he was two years younger than he really was. Andrea went into a doctor’s appointment only for the doc to find out the kid had contracted chlamydia. Sophia who had been tied to a bed and beaten to ‘get the devils’ out of her. Fynn had been choked for enough time by his stepdad to have permanent brain damage.

But all of those kids have homes now. They were adopted by loving families. I send them cards on their birthdays. Joel is obsessed with Disney and went to Florida with his mom during summer vacation. Andrea now speaks regularly at sexual abuse seminars and helps other victims come forward about what they went through. Sophia wants to be an astronaut, Fynn is beating the odds and making us all proud with all he’s accomplishing.

I can’t say the same for Bonnie.

Bonnie only crossed my desk recently, her original caseworker had retired and no one else wanted to do checks on her. I couldn’t imagine why until she was sent back into the system. That’s when I cracked open that file and gave it a long read.

No one knows where Bonnie came from. They found her in the backseat of a car that had been in an accident, the driver appeared to have suddenly swerved and ran into a tree. It killed him instantly. However, when the driver was ID’d, he didn’t have children that age. The girl wasn’t one of his relatives, and she was found in a worn out carseat that had the name ‘Bonnie’ scrawled on it in black crayon.

As much as it irks me to say this, she was the perfect case for an easy adoption. Blue eyes, blonde hair, six months old and perfectly healthy. Exactly the kind of child that anyone would want. It’s no surprise to me that a lovely young couple brought her into their home within a week. I even found a newspaper clipping announcing that the Johnson’s family has grown by one. Cheesy, but cute.

But not even three weeks later and Bonnie was sent right back into the system, with no explanation other than ‘she’s a handful’. I did some digging and it does seem that the perfect Johnson couple were not nearly so perfect. A well check revealed that the garbage can was filled to the brim with wine bottles and Mr. Johnson had been fired from his workplace for embezzlement.

I actually looked them up to scrape up that last fact, I had gotten far too curious.

The next couple seems to be an even better fit, the Morrisons. They’d already adopted three year old Lily the year prior and they were excited to grow their family again. Mrs. Morrison was a teacher, Mr. Morrison was an accountant. Lily was a happy, healthy girl.

Well, she was.

Two weeks after Bonnie joined their perfect family, Lily was diagnosed with leukemia. This was out of nowhere. It worked fast. Before the year was out the family had shrunk, and the Morrison family had to buy a coffin that should never have to be made so small.

Everything fell apart after this. Mrs. Morrison started having an affair with one of her students, Mr. Morrison came home to them in bed and in a rage he shot them both. The teenage boy didn’t survive but Mrs. Morrison did, although she’d never be able to walk again. During the trial it came out that Mrs. Morrison felt like she was no longer in control of her actions, she claimed she was sleepwalking when she seduced her student and brought him into her bed. Funny part is, Mr. Morrison said he had no idea where he even got that gun- he didn’t own one, and it wasn’t registered to him either.

Obviously, little Bonnie had to be sent back into the system while her parents were sent to prison for statutory rape and murder.

I wish I could say it got easier for her from here… but it didn’t. Not at all. It got worse even. Not every house was as perfect as the Morrisons could’ve been. There are so many ‘parents’ out there that are in it for the paycheck. Frankly, they got what they deserved when Bonnie entered their house.

I was on the computer all night to see the path of destruction that laid in Bonnie’s wake. Housefires. Unexpected deaths, some explained, some not. Illness. Erratic and violent behavior. The most saintly of people became depraved maniacs, devolving into sexual deviants that sold their kids to sickos and downloaded terabytes upon terabytes of illegal porn. Big brothers began gutting cats and big sisters were found with their wrists slit in the bathtub. Parents threw children out the window on the second floor. Jobs were lost. Homes destroyed.

And the only thing in common with each and every one was Bonnie.

The last house probably had it the worst, the Raders. This poor couple hadn’t a damn clue what they were getting into when they adopted Bonnie, they’d already adopted three other ‘problem’ children who came from abusive pasts so they probably thought that Bonnie would be nothing new. Nothing unexpected.

Mr. Rader went into work last week and killed nearly every one of his coworkers with a shot gun. No one was spared and it ended only when he turned the gun on himself. The only survivor had managed to hide herself in the closet and she said that he didn’t say a word until everyone else was dead. Then she heard him start to scream uncontrollably, the screaming grew louder and louder until it was cut off by the final shot.

I can’t say the rest of the family had it easy. On the same day, Mrs. Rader drowned the youngest child in the bathtub, while the older children ran down the streets, naked and wailing. They finally managed to flag down a neighbor and told her, and I quote, ‘Mom’s gone crazy, she’s going to kill us all just because of Bonnie!’

When the police finally got home, Mrs. Rader had hung herself off the shower rod while Bonnie was busy drawing flowers in the basement. It was like she didn’t even know what was going on upstairs.

I’ve seen a lot of children, many who might be concerned ‘problems’. But Bonnie takes the cake. This child is a jinx in human form and I have no idea why.

So this is why I’ve agreed to foster Bonnie. I cannot let this child go into another home knowing what I do now.

Bonnie is one of the most beautiful children I’ve ever seen, dark golden curls and those wide eyes are such a bright blue they make the sky seem drab. She’s quiet, always says please and thank you, and I’ve yet to see any typical trouble making behavior- stealing, hoarding, lying, destroying.

I questioned her about all her previous homes, how her entire life she’s never spent more than seven months in a house. At the time we were enjoying dinner, and Bonnie looked up from her mac n’ cheese to ask for some applesauce. When I poured her some applesauce in a bowl, she took it and then she started talking.

“I’m a very bad thing. I can’t do good things, no matter how hard I try, and everyone around me gets hurt because of it. I’m sorry, I’ll try to do better this time.”

I pity this child. I don’t know if I trust her, but I do pity her. I only hope I can avoid the fate of Bonnie’s other families.

[his-endless-rambles]

I’ve worked a lot of jobs in my life—many of them customer-facing—but I gotta say I’ve never had more of a blast interacting with the general public than working at a library. You get all sorts coming through and the exchanges are varied. Some are good, some are bad, but they are almost always memorable.

Here is one of my favourites.

By all accounts, it was a pretty average day. Scanning, shelving, reserving—the usual. Then here comes this brick wall of a man. And when I call him a brick wall I am not exaggerating. The thickness of his arms and the width of his shoulders would make a barricade blush. Fella straight up looked like this:

Anyway, he comes up to the desk, puts both hands on it, and leans forward. His face is now inches from mine. He’s breathing exclusively out of his nostrils, the heat of each breath cooking the air. Paired with the vacant look in his eye, he’s like a bull ready to charge. Then he lifts a meaty finger, unfurls his lips, and in a thick Eastern European accent asks:

“Do you have any One Piece?”

It takes a second or two for me to register what he said and a few seconds more to believe I heard it. Then, I try my best to do my job. I’m not 100% sure so I type it into the database. Until the search has loaded, I don’t break eye contact, and when I do, a lump climbs into my throat.

“No. I’m afraid the few copies we have are already borrowed. Do you want me to make a reservation?”

He shakes his head, then says. “What about Na-Ru-To.” He sounds it out just like that. Na Ru To.

I check the database. There are three copies available. “We have volumes 50, 51, and 61 accessible at this library.”

He doesn’t reply. He’s too busy aiming his burly body in the direction of the graphic novels section.

Less than five minutes pass before he comes back, and with him, he brings a veritable bounty of manga. His palms, wider than the shelves themselves, are stacked high with not just Naruto but everything from My Hero Academia to D.Gray Man.

He notices me eyeing his haul and clears his throat. “I like One Piece and Na Ru To,” he says. “They are my favourites. But, I have been told to read more If I am able.”

I ask the man for his library card. He shakes his head and says he will be paying with cash. This is not the first time I’ve served someone who’s assumed the need for money in a public library so I explain to him that he can get a library card and take books out for free. What happens next is one of the reasons I love being a librarian.

His eyes widen and a smile cracks across his face. “This is very good.”

I smile back and tell him that if he likes I can reserve some volumes of One Piece to be transferred to this library for him. A light dances across his gaze and his crack of a smile splits into a chasmic grin.

“You are a very good man!” he declares. “I give you big thank you!”

It takes no time at all to find the volumes he wants and even less to scan his pile. Soon enough, the man has his books, has his reservations, and to my joy, still has his smile.

“I come back for One Piece!” he says gleefully. “I see you soon, yes?”

Then he struts away swinging a canvas bag stuffed with manga like it weighs as much as it did empty.

It didn’t matter what happened during the rest of that day, or even the rest of that week. The genuine smile of that giant manga-loving man carried me through it all.

[themagical1sa]

Regarding the SIM Card and Social Media Registration Act

because people still reblog these posts on it, and it's time I personally update everyone about it.

For those unaware: the SIM Card and SocMed Registration Act was a bill initially intended as counteraction against trolls and spreaders of misinformation on social media.

It was, however, found to be unconstitutional, criminalizing the right to anonymity and pseudonymity on the Internet and is a violation of Filipinos' rights to privacy, freedom of speech, and freedom of association (Democracy.Net.PH).

c. For using fictitious identites to register SIM cards or social media accounts. — The penalty of imprisonment of no less than six (6) years, or a fine of up to Two hundred thousand pesos (₱200,000.00), or both, shall be imposed upon anyone who uses a fictitious identity to purchase and register a SIM cards or social media account.

This is a direct violation of the 1987 Constitution, particularly Article III Sections 3 (1) and 4.

Above is a screenshot of Microsoft Edge from my laptop. The tab is showing a webpage from the Official Gazette of the Republic of the Philippines. The text shown is from Article III, the Bill of Rights, but the highlighted text are Sections 3 (1) and 4. They read, “SECTION 3. (1) The privacy of communication and correspondence shall be inviolable except upon lawful order of the court, or when public safety or order requires otherwise as prescribed by law,” and “SECTION 4. No law shall be passed abridging the freedom of speech, of expression, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and petition the government for redress of grievances.”

With this in mind, it was imperative that word spread of how dangerous the Act was and to have the then-President Rodrigo Duterte veto it.

It was vetoed on April 15, 2022.

This was, as @katsurolle said, "half a win for online anonymity." It was only vetoed because the this bill would also endanger and penalize paid political trolls in the Philippines.

Half a win as it was... there was a collective sigh of relief from the Filipino people.

This half-victory had been only short-lived.

Four months into presidency, President Bongbong Marcos signed a revised SIM Card Registration bill into law on October 10, 2022.

It is meant to reduce cybercrime — spam and scam texts, more especially.

According to Office of the Press Secretary officer-in-charge Cheloy Garafil, the SIM Card Registration Act aims to provide “accountability in the use of SIM cards and aid law enforcers to track perpetrators of crimes committed through phones.”

The signing of the measure will likewise “significantly boost government initiatives against scams committed through text and online messages, which have become more prevalent this year.”

This, however, brings forth a new concern: data leaks.

Scam texts in the Philippines have been containing the receiver's names, and it's been very likely that private information on the internet has been leaked.

I have more that go as far as July.

There are certainly many issues that need to be resolved first, but as far as the SIM Card Registration Law is concerned, its execution is well underway. Globe Telecom's subscribers have already been receiving a text that looks like this:

Hi! Get ready to start your Globe Prepaid SIM registration journey on December 27, 2022. For more info, please visit https://glbe.co/simregfaq

I just hope the SIM Card Registration Law will be as effective as national goverment officials claim it to be.

Thank you to everyone who spread awareness of the SIM Card and Social Media Registration Act — I'm very grateful.

That will be all, and thank you for reading.

[johannstutt413]

Need a Light?

(also up on AO3, since I actually had a title ready to go for it... yes, that is a good part of the reason I don’t usually cross-post fics for here onto there, but I like this ship a lot so goddamn it I’ll sail it on every sea)

Jordi didn’t get many chances to visit Rhodes Island, but when he did, he thoroughly took advantage of the opportunity - shadowing the Doctor, watching reel after reel of operation records in the Intelligence Processing Room, and occasionally trying to recreate some of the technology his parents worked on before their disappearance. Sometimes an operator would find him and have a chat, and he was more than happy to listen for a while. In all those visits, however, there was one person he never saw. Really, he didn’t expect to, but he could hope, and hope he did.

Of course, the day Irene did arrive at Rhodes Island while he was there, he had no idea… until he heard a familiar voice in the cafeteria line ahead of him. “I must have left my meal card at home. No, no, if I can’t pay, then I-”

“Miss Irene?” The Aegir sprinted to the register, card already in hand. “I’d like to pay for both of us, if it’s alright.”

“That will work just fine, Lumen. I’ll charge it to your account when you bring your meal to the register.” Gitano winked at him as he went to the line, sheepishly accepting when an Operator about to order gave him their place in line.

The former Inquisitor stood there waiting for him to return. “You’re here, too,” she said when he did.

“The, uh, Inquisition keeps me busy,” he replied as he handed over his meal card, “but every now and again, they let me visit. How’ve you been?”

“Me? Oh, um, busy, quite busy. We can talk more while we eat, maybe?”

The Elafia finished ringing him up; neither she nor Jordi mentioned the fact he’d only been charged for his meal. He picked up his tray and turned to follow Irene. “Have a good day, Gitano.”

“You as well, Lumen,” she smiled. “And good luck.”

“Good luck?” That slipped over his head for the moment. After all, Irene was waiting for him.

She’d found a booth for them in a corner, which didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. It wasn’t that she was a former Inquisitor that made him nervous - after the time he’d spent training with the Inquisition, he was used to that kind of discomfort. No, this was something else, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced in his life. 

Fortunately, those feelings didn’t hurt his ability to ask questions as he sat down. “You’ve been busy, you said?”

“More or less. The waves bring new tidings almost daily of the gathering storm.” She smiled dryly at the unintended pun. “I must admit, though, that even with all of Rhodes Island’s research materials and training offerings, I’ve found myself with more time to think than I did with the Inquisition. How are your studies going? Are they mistreating you? If they are, let me know, and I’ll make sure something’s done about it.”

“I’m learning a lot. No worries. I’m not suffering for being an Aegir.” Not especially, anyway.

Irene sighed with relief. “Good.”

“Were you…” He blushed at the thought but carried on. “Were you worried about me, Irene?”

“Somewhat.” She blushed, too, eyes firmly trained on her plate.

For a moment, they ate in silence. Lumen didn’t mind, though. It was nice seeing her again, even if things were still a tad awkward.

They certainly got more awkward when their hands touched the salt at the same time. He managed to pull back first. “Um, after you,” the Aegir said, gesturing to the shaker.

“Oh, no, please, you first.” The Liberi pushed it towards him. “You reached it before I did.”

“Okay. How much would you like?” He positioned his hand over her tray instead of his own.

Irene stared at him for a moment before replying, red as a rose, “Two shakes, please.”

“Over the potatoes?” She nodded; he obliged. “For your steak?”

“No, thank you. Please, salt your food.” The former Inquisitor watched as he did - two for his potatoes, one for his steak.

Jordi resumed his previous line of questioning. “You mentioned that you’ve had time to think recently? More than you expected?”

“Ah, um, yes. I thought that as a Messenger, I’d be going from place to place constantly, and that is true, but not as drastically as I anticipated.” She ate a potato, visibly surprised by how much flavor it had. “It’s strange how much my life has changed since that mission…”

“A watershed moment for both of us,” Lumen agreed, trying to admire the light in her eyes without staring too intently.

The Liberi nodded. “Thank you again. If you hadn’t been there to bring us back to the shore, I don’t think we would have made it back.”

“Oh, I-” He saw the look on her face as she bit into a piece of steak and passed her the salt. “It, um, well, Doctor Kal’tsit was fighting the monsters, and I tried to get the boat ready for the both of us, but-”

“But she stayed behind to fight, and you came to our aid alone. An extraordinary deed of bravery.”

Lumen’s face lit up as he looked away. “In the face of danger, even ordinary people can be heroes, I guess.”

“Ordinary?” Irene smiled as she applied one salt-shake to her steak. “If you’re truly ordinary, Jordi, then Terra’s future must be bright.”

“Th-thank you, Irene.” The Aegir noticed that she’d stopped at one shake. He noticed the little nod she gave when that proved more than satisfactory.

He noticed the way her eyes had lit up when she was complimenting him.

He noticed the scars on her hand, some of which reminded him of his training with the Inquisition, and wondered if she had other scars in other places like he did- And with that thought bouncing around in his head, he barely heard her question. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Busy? Me? Not too busy for you.” He hadn’t meant to phrase it that way; it just sort of happened that way. “Um, why do you ask?”

“It’s maybe a bit silly, but… My lantern isn’t working quite the same as it did before, and I was wondering if you could take a look at it?” The former Inquisitor smiled again, more shakily this time.

The thought of something to work on calmed his churning stomach. “I’m happy to help.”

“Thank you.” She brushed her hair back and suddenly frowned. “Ah, right, I just arrived from Iberia. After dinner might be a better time than right now.”

“Oh, okay. After dinner works, too.”

The Liberi nodded. “Good. After dinner, then. Are you done with your tray?”

“I am.” He reached over and took hers. “Tonight, then?”

“Tonight,” she confirmed, a little breathlessly.

Lumen noticed that but decided to leave it be for now, which was the right decision.

After all, it meant Irene was free to freak out about their date, and subsequently calm down, at her own pace.

----- Later -----

Irene looked over herself in the mirror one more time. She’d gotten back from dinner at the cafeteria with plenty of time to freshen up, but she was certain she still smelt like the ocean. Maybe. That could’ve just been her worrying about making a good impression on Jordi.

God, had she worried. Ever since their afternoon encounter, the Liberi had found herself fondly remembering the ship ride back to the shore. The water had churned, but not with nearly as many Sea Terrors as it had before Jordi’s arrival, and he’d looked absolutely magnificent at the helm, hands so firmly grasping the wheel they shook. It’d been a miracle he’d found them, a miracle of his own determination and understated intellect, and even now, thinking of it sent both chills and warmth through her. What a terribly wonderful, or wonderfully terrible, journey that had been…

She managed to pull herself from her self-enrapturement when there was a knock on her door. One last glance to make sure she hadn’t missed something - no? - before she went to answer. “Good evening, Jordi.”

“Good evening.” The Aegir was out of breath, it seemed. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped out of his way, glancing at the clock as she did. Not that they had a curfew or anything as operators, but she remembered the Inquisition’s policy on such things and didn’t want to make trouble for Lumen.

Her guest flitted over to the lantern on the coffee table with a moth’s focus. “You said it isn't the same as it was before that night?”

“It’s not as bright as it used to be,” she admitted, “even when I use the same amount of energy.”

“I see.” Jordi scratched the back of his head, moving around to look at it from different angles without touching it.

Irene wondered if he’d actually seen her at the threshold. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Um, water, please?” He looked directly at her, a coffee table between them, and his eyes were gleaming. “I may be here a while.”

“I’ll be right back.” Which was true, after a moment to collect herself before returning with water for both of them.

As the Inquisitor initiate took out his motley assortment of tools - the same he’d had with him that night - he glanced around the room. “You have a record player?”

“I asked Specter if I could borrow it for a night.” And endured no small amount of teasing because of it. That shark enjoyed watching her squirm, apparently. “I can turn it on, if you’d like?”

“Yes, please. I’m not sure how talkative I’ll be once I start with my tools.”

The Liberi retrieved one of her personal favorites from Iberia’s Golden Age - also, admittedly, borrowed from Laurentina for the night, but she’d known the song much longer. Eventually, she’d get her own, but not on eight hours’ notice of needing it. “I won’t disturb you.”

“Actually, I might need your help,” he admitted with a blush. “I’ve never worked with Inquisition technology before.”

“Oh, um, then I’ll sit here.” She sat on the couch, doing her best to leave him room to move around, and watched him lift the lantern.

Lumen frowned almost immediately after. “Is there a screw, or can I unscrew the top?”

“No screw,” Irene confirmed. She watched him remove the lid and gently remove the Arts mechanism from inside it… Oh, was he squinting? It was rather dark in the room - she kept the overheads off because the darkness reminded her of better days. “Need a light?”

“Another would be nice,” Jordi agreed.

The former Inquisitor glanced around her room. “Another one?”

“...I said that out loud,” he realized, also out loud. “Um, yes.”

“I suppose you are holding one,” Irene admitted, going to turn up the slider.

The Aegir cleared his throat. “I was… referring to you.”

“I’m sorry?” She accidentally turned the overheads all the way on, temporarily blinding them both, before bringing them down to a more manageable level.

“You, um…” Lumen couldn’t believe he’d actually said that either. “Meeting you was like stumbling over a candle in the dark. Not just because you introduced me to the Inquisition, that was part of it, but you… How do I explain this…”

The Liberi walked back to the table, fiercely blushing. “Do you know how to dance, Jordi?”

“Eh? No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” she replied, holding out a hand, “but maybe we can figure it out?”

Jordi took her hand as he stood up; the top of her head barely reached the base of his neck, he learned as she drew closer. He vaguely remembered how his parents would sometimes sway together in the living room. “I’m not too tall for you, am I?”

“As long as I’m not too short for you,” Irene chuckled, locking her fingers with his and putting a hand behind his waist.

“That’s good.” He put a hand on her shoulder. Something seemed a little off, but it didn’t matter. “Um…”

The former Inquisitor took the lead, and after a few missteps, they settled into the rhythm of the music, one quarter-turn at a time. “Are you working out of Gran Taro, by any chance?”

“When I’m on Inquisition business, I travel a lot… but I go back to Gran Taro when I can’t come back here.” That Iberian town was still home, even if RI’s ship called to him often.

“Good.” She set her head against his chest. “I’ll be able to visit you easily, then.”

He couldn’t have heard that right. “Visit me?”

“I like spending time with you. More time with you would be better for me.”

“You can visit me whenever you want,” Lumen agreed, voice dropping to a whisper. The hand he’d set on her shoulder drifted to her cheek. “Irene?”

The Liberi looked up at him, eyes momentarily shimmering before she closed them. She hoped he got the message. “Jordi…”

He didn’t recognize the gesture immediately, but he followed through on his instincts and bent forward to reach her face.

The lantern could wait until the morning; after all, neither of them were going anywhere else the rest of the night…