#L: label all work clearly

[ourbastardofsorrows]

anyway i'm so fucking proud of my students. their written responses for the math performance task were just beautiful

[gumify]

20/20 feat. toji fushiguro ❝ BOYFRIEND!TOJI NEEDS GLASSES ?! ❞

now playing… blind by role model.

summary. after months of denying his deteriorating eyesight, your boyfriend finally lets you drag him to an optometrist appointment.

tags. boyfriend!toji x fem!reader, fluff, some suggestive parts, established relationship, toddler!megumi being the cutiepie that he is, boyfriend!toji being everything a man should be (hot, blind, and utterly whipped).

wc. 2.6k

note. I ❤️ NERDS

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤyou heard that right.

boyfriend!toji, who very clearly needs reading glasses, but would rather take his blurry ass eyesight to the grave before ever accepting it.

boyfriend!toji, who always — always — asks you to read the labels on his food for him to make sure he’s getting the right amount of protein in or whatever. (he claims the tiny letters make his head hurt, but you like to tease and blame it on his age. he never laughs.)

boyfriend!toji, who is never not squinting. it’s pretty easy to see why people think your partner’s so intimidating, considering the fact that his already daunting eyes are narrowed into slits 24/7. most people you encounter on a daily basis probably think he’s internally cursing them… not that he minds. even if he had 20/20 vision, he’d probably be glaring at them anyways.

you first notice it on a night you’re cuddled up and watching a movie with him. boyfriend!toji’s leaned into the corner of your L-shaped couch as you nestle your head against his broad, firm chest — lifting it momentarily to gawk at the devastatingly hot specimen of man currently tracing patterns down your spine with his calloused fingertips. his face is pretty much devoid of any emotion, as it usually is whenever he’s fully relaxed; but you notice his gaze deviate every once in a while from the television, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the corners as his jade irises go in and out of focus.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“turn the sound up, dove.” toji murmurs, too comfortable in his current position to even think about reaching for the remote. spotting the way your lips twist into a stubborn (but no less pretty, mind you) pout, he huffs. “... please.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“but ‘m too lazyyy.” you whine.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“so am iii.” he replies, kicking up the pitch of his normally husky voice to playfully match that of your protest.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“hmpf. aren’t you the man, anyways?” you counter, poking him in his pecs to emphasise your point. “all the labourful work’s on you, babe. ‘m literally just a girl.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“thought y’said we should abolish gender roles.” he drawls.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… not this one.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that doesn’t sound very fair.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“tojiii!” you roll your eyes, “we don’t even need to turn the volume up — jus’ read the subtitles!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ mean the size five ass writing at the bottom of the screen?” he scoffs, “i don’t have x-ray vision, dove.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“x-ray vision wouldn’t even—” you stop yourself short, choosing to save yourself the middle school science lesson and shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics instead. “the subtitles are perfectly visible. you just need glasses.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“wha—” he sits straight up, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “no i don’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i don’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i d—”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“it’s past midnight, toj’!” you tut, “last time we turned the volume up this late, we got a noise complaint, remem—”

toji cuts you off by squishing your cheeks together with his thumb and forefinger, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pucker and planting an equally dramatic mwaaah against them with his own.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“do you remember why we had to turn it up in the first place, hm?” he teases, giving you another softer peck before releasing you from his grip. “don’t think it was the movie they were complainin’ about, dove.”

ugh. he always knows how to shut you up.

you make it your life’s mission for the next week to make boyfriend!toji realise just how blind he really is. and you don’t have to do much, seeing as he only further proves your point himself.

for example, boyfriend!toji asks you how many boxes of strawberries you’d like him to pick up at the grocery store one day. too immersed in your morning reading to give him a proper reply, you hold up three fingers from across the room. he comes home with five.

boyfriend!toji misreads a sign on the highway later that weekend — which leads to him taking a wrong exit, and the two of you showing up to your fancy dinner reservation half an hour late. you end up spending date night eating mcdonald’s in the backseat of his volkswagen instead. (greeeat.)

boyfriend!toji damn near kills one of megumi’s friends who’s over for a playdate the following week. the little boy’s mother had talked his ear off at the front door about her son’s plethora of life-threatening allergies — even given him a list she’d taken upon herself to print out beforehand — and he still managed to miss the ‘MAY CONTAIN NUTS’ warning plastered on the chocolate bar in bold red lettering. if you hadn’t come to the rescue, practically diving headfirst into the living room and snatching the confectionary from the child’s grip, you imagine his mother would most definitely have the both of your heads on a platter by now. (phew.)

so boyfriend!toji finally gives in, letting you drag him along to one of your optometrist appointments for a check-up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“this is dumb.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“just read as many letters as you can from the screen, mr. fushiguro.”

“… what is this, pre-school?”

“toji.”

the man slumps back against the optometrist’s padded chair at the sound of your voice, folding his arms across his chest and giving you a silent little hmpf before doing as he’s told.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“a, f, g, k… e, t, o, d, z… p, m, j, f, l — this is so stupid — n, r, s.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“good. now onto the next level.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“uhhh…” you watch your boyfriend’s everpresent confidence begin to falter at this stage, brows furrowing as he squints against the darkness of the small room. “m… f… c? uhhh, no — that’s an o. wait! actually — a d.”

you stifle a giggle at the scene unfolding before you, and he shoots you a warning glare.

“keep going, mr. fushiguro.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that’s a… k… then a z…” you swear he’s just making up letters at this point, “and— the fuck, is that a hexagon?!”

with the click of a button, your optometrist fishes out a sheet of paper and slaps it down on the table next to him.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“your prescription will be ready soon.”

boyfriend!toji, who picks up his new glasses the following week — a standard rectangular pair with black frames that you helped him choose.

boyfriend!toji, who quite literally tells you to wait outside as he tries them on for the first time in your shared bedroom, locking the door behind him as if he were going into some sort of top secret mission.

boyfriend!toji, who refuses to come out for the next ten minutes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji, this is ridiculous.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i look like a fuckin’ incel!”

you give the doorknob another jiggle; yet, still, he doesn’t budge.

“unlock the damn door, fushiguro!” you huff, “i need to get ready for bed!”

a short pause.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… fine.” you hear your boyfriend murmur. followed by the sound of his footsteps treading closer to the door, the knob turning slowly before he adds, “promise y’er not gonna laugh.”

you roll your eyes, “sure.”

and then the door peels open to reveal… well, what might just be your newest obsession.

the stark black frames do nothing to mask the stubborn blush tinting toji’s cheeks but goddamn, do they compliment the rest of his features well.

they’re not too chunky, nor too thin; just the perfect amount of thickness to emphasise the angles of that strong jawline, those prominent cheekbones, and the pair of brows almost always raised in sinister jest. his eyes also look darker, sharper — if that’s even possible — flecks of emerald in his irises brought to life by the viridescent sheen of the lens.

fuck, your boyfriend’s so hot.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ think so?”

you blink a couple times, too distracted by the man’s new look to realise you had voiced that last thought fact aloud. but if the way his subtle frown morphs into a shit-eating smirk is anything to go by, he’s most definitely caught on to the effect it has on you.

and oh, does he love it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“cat got your tongue, dove?” toji hums, the hellish glint in his eyes magnified by the lenses. “c’mooon, say something. y’er lookin’ at me like i’m a piece of damn meat.”

it’s true.

you should be ashamed of the way you’re blatantly staring at him as if you’re a hormonal middle schooler catching a glimpse of the opposite gender for the first time — but you can’t find it in yourself to care. not when your man looks this fine. and certainly not when it’s already taking everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping onto the ground and drooling all over the place.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“still nothin’?” toji pouts mockingly. “aw, y’er breakin’ my heart here. don’t tell me my girl doesn’t want me anymore?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“shut up, toj’.”

he pushes the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. a statement.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“or you must reaaally like ‘em, huh? got ya’ all speechless and i didn’t even do anything. but i bet you’d just looove to—”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji.”

he raises a brow. a challenge.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“bed. now.” you blurt out, much to the protest — or could it be encouragement? — of your own deafening pulse. you bite your lip before adding, “… n’ keep the glasses on.”

again, toji smirks. that goddamn smirk.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes, ma’am.”

truth be told, neither you nor boyfriend!toji could have anticipated the effects of a pair of measly glasses. (five rounds, then another two in the shower, actually.) but one thing’s for certain — now, he wears them around with a newfound pride.

the first time boyfriend!toji comes home from a particularly challenging job not only battered and bruised, but battered and bruised in his equally damaged glasses, your eyeballs almost pop out of their fuckin’ sockets. he stands in the doorway with his chest heaving; one of the lenses of his glasses cracked; slashes of crimson adorning his brow, cheek, and even that signature scar decorating his now-bloody lips. you have no idea whether to feel concerned, or truly deplorable amounts of turned on — probably a little bit of both. and that you most definitely are.

when boyfriend!toji lets you pick out his outfit for dinner at your parents’ house, you’re practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. you land on a safe option — a creamy knit sweater that hugs his muscular build oh-so deliciously, paired with some black slacks and, of course, his glasses. he looks so… sophisticated like this, you think. so handsome. you can barely keep your eyes off him for more than two seconds as he helps your father clear the table and converses with your mother over a glass of merlot.

and don’t even get you started on megumi’s recently developed habit of climbing atop boyfriend!toji’s lap to toy with the frames in his lil’ hands. the sight alone is enough to make you melt — every. single. time. and even more so when the kid decides to steal the glasses off of his father to wonkily place them on himself, giving you a gap-toothed grin across the room as you feel your heart swell at the uncanny resemblance.

see, these are only some of the very many reasons you happen to love boyfriend!toji’s new at-home look… though for him, it all comes down to one thing.

boyfriend!toji comes to this epiphany a couple of weeks after his first trip to the optometrist. megumi’s sleeping over at a friend’s place, so you and him decided to make the most out of the free night. namely, by hitting a swanky new speakeasy in town and letting loose for once in a blue moon.

alas, boyfriend!toji’s not the drinker he used to be — which means you’re nursing the man back home after no more than three and a half whiskey highballs at the ripe ol' time of 10pm.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“fuuuck, my head’s spinnin’.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ big baby.” you tease, earning a distasted scowl from your boyfriend. “okay, okay - where are your glasses? ‘s not helping that you can’t see straight enough sober.”

toji barely manages an “mph.” in reply, murmuring something that vaguely sounds like “— bedroom… top drawer…” before slumping against the couch like a giant ragdoll.

by the time you return with his glasses in hand, he’s still letting out tipsy grumbles into the empty air. drama queen, you think, walking up ‘til you’re right in front of him and bending down to meet him at eye-level from his position on the couch to slide them into place yourself.

your heart does the usual thing it does whenever you see toji in his glasses — or toji at all, for that matter — and the way he’s looking at you through his thick lashes and heavy-lidded gaze isn’t helping.

immediately, something clicks.

toji’s eyes widen enough behind the lenses for you to see his pupils dilate, and before you know it, he’s got your face cradled in his hands.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toj’—”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“my god, woman…”

he’s nothing short of mystified. your brows knit in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour, but he’s too lost in his own mind — in you — to offer any sort of explanation.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“have you always been this pretty?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“w— what?”

you’re unable to suppress the giggle forming in your chest at toji’s words, but he’s being dead serious. you cock your head to the side ever so slightly and he gifts you with a light peck on the corner of your lips.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i mean it.” he says so sincerely it almost makes you wonder what the fuck has gotten into him. (most probably the highballs, but you digress.)

he doesn’t even look tipsy anymore. well, not on the alcohol, at least. he pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the stare framed oh-so prettily behind them now beyond blown out. his hands are so big yet so gentle; able to ghost the slopes of your facial features with his thumbs whilst still keeping your face still and focussed on him at the same time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“y’make me feel so lucky, dove…”

you start to shy away under the intensity of it all, but toji doesn’t let up. his eyes are everywhere — it’s as if he’s searching for something; or, better yet, memorising it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen…”

it’s been too long since he’s gotten a chance to look at you; really look at you — the subtle beauty marks that sprinkle your skin, the lines decorating the outer corners of your pretty eyes and lips that serve as a testament of all the times he’s made you smile, and all the other tiny details that make you… well, you — in all of your 20/20 glory.

it always feels like the first time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i love you s’much, my beautiful girl.” he kisses the words into your skin, each one as reverent as the last. “never forget it.”

boyfriend!toji, who makes sure to get his eyes checked at least twice a year now — because there’s no chance in hell he’s letting himself miss out on any of this again. ㅤ

© GUMIFY 2024 do not steal, replicate, or modify my work.

[pixelscutz]

cravings - levi ackerman oneshot

warnings : smut,, anal,, masturbation,, mature audience,,

word count : 421

A single ding hits your phone as you down to see a text from Levi.

levi <33 - I need you home right now, serious emergency. 

You quickly rush out to your car, as this was the perfect exuse to leave work early, while also being able to help Levi.

The streets starting blurring out to you as your mind paced all the situations Levi might have going on right now. The night sky looks brighter than ever, with stars sprinkling above you. 

You quickly pull up to the driveway and shut the door loudly, leaving your bag behind. You unlock the door to find the house have a clear smell of mint and coconut oil. “Levi?” You call out, scared. 

As you walk towards the living room you find Levi’s head laying back towards the couch as he was stroking his glistening cock, with a mix of moans and pants coming out of his mouth. You notice him holding your laced panties from this morning. 

The moment he sees you he grips onto himself harder and lets put a soft moan, “Sorry, L-love.” He says while his entire body stiffened as he finally came, making his lower half look like a glazed donut. 

You hold back a laugh as you look around the living room to find a box of chocolates on the coffee table, clearing labeling aphrodisiac chocolates. You turn your head back to Levi who shakes his head in dismay. “I was craving something sweet.” 

“I can tell, how many did you eat?” You say, bending look to look at the packaging. You could clearly hear what Levi was thinking as before he grabs you by the hips and positions you onto his lap. “Please.” He whispers desperately, pulling off your shirt. You nod, smiling. 

-

“Fuck! Levi!” You cry, grabbing onto the headboard as he thrusts roughly into you, while kissing your neck sloppily. 

“You want me to stop?” He asks, knowing he wouldn’t even if you asked. You moan quietly in response, which he takes as a no as he starts thrusting even faster. 

“Good girl,” He praises. “You doing such a good job.” You moan a quiet thank you in response, as Levi slaps your ass loudly. “I’m gonna cum..” He mutters. 

“S-same.” You say, sinking your face into the pillow. You can practically hear him grinning. “Wait, I can’t hold it in anymore, Levi!” You say, ask you feel a sticky liquid come from you, as you grip onto the bedsheets. 

“I love you.” 

[nekropsii]

Why do people call Porrim an MRA??? it's such a bad take I can't even begin to fathom the logic.

Uuuuugh. Okay, to my understanding, the logic is predicated on two concepts:

Kankri is Correct, there is no Misogyny on Beforus.

Since Beforus has a Matriarch, "complaining" about the Oppression of Women on Beforus is the exact equivalent... Men complaining about men being oppressed, despite us living in a Patriarchal society.

This is a terrible argument, because... Porrim literally explains in detail that that is not the case.

Yes, Beforus has a Matriarch... A Superficial Matriarch, where the woman in power is more of a Figurehead than anything. Law Enforcement and Politics are handled mostly by "Higher CIPs" - Ceruleans, Indigos, and Purples - which are predominantly born (hatched?) as men. ... If all of the Social Order and Politics are Enforced and Dictated by men... Then that... Is a Patriarchy.

So, we have it directly explained to us that Beforus is Superficially a Matriarchy, with a Governing Body largely composed by Highblood Men, who canonically benefit from the subjugation of women, because having women be of generally lower class than men means that... Men can cull women, potentially on the basis of being women. You know, that social system, enforced by the predominantly male-lead government that allows for what is essentially the ownership of people you deem incapable of caring for themselves as pets? The system that will take any excuse in the book? Sure, that may have been a social rule implemented by their version of HIC, Feferi fucking Peixes, but it's still being used as a weapon. Just because something was made by a woman, does not mean it cannot be used as a weapon against women in the name of misogyny. You think Alternian Culling doesn't work the same damn way?

There's a sharp cut of irony you have to feel at the fact that Porrim literally says that conversations of Misogyny on Beforus are often shot down using "The Matriarchy" as an excuse. If Misogyny wasn't a thing, why the fuck are Rufioh, Kankri, and Cronus literally, textually, purposefully Misogynists? Why the hell is Latula like that, then? I don't think this is a 1-to-1 allegory for the real world, man- Troll World Building has NEVER been a direct, clean allegory for the real world. I do not think she was ever intended to be read as an analogue to Men's Rights Activists, I think she was intended to be read as an Alien Feminist. If anything, this feels less like an MRA, and more like someone getting shut down for trying to have a conversation about how Misogyny Exists in, like, Thatcher-Era England or something. Well, there's a Female Prime Minister, isn't there? Misogyny is over, clearly.

Porrim is constantly posed as an Exposition Fairy on the same level as Aranea, just... With Politics and World Building rather than Character Analysis. Porrim is portrayed as cool, collected, and correct. Do you think Andrew Hussie - literal Andrew Hussie - would portray a fucking Men's Rights Activist with that level of grace and style? Because the answer is no! Every time a character is a Misogynist in Homestuck, they are comically terrible! Rufioh, Kankri, Cronus, fucking Caliborn! Hussie is a lot of things, and yeah, some of these things are bad, but none of these things include the label Misogynist. Hussie is well known for... Not doing that, actually, that's, like... A major appeal of the comic. The female characters in Homestuck are known for being really, really well written and really, really well handled!! If there was a Men's Rights Activist in Homestuck, we would know about it, because that character would be comedically terrible, constantly dunked on by everyone around him, totally bitchless, and posed as a relentless fucking menace who does not deserve to breathe the same air as any of the women in the story. You know, like Cronus! And Not Porrim!!

Also, can we all take a moment of silence to ponder how much of an L it is to have your entire point of discourse be based in the idea that straight up literal actual Kankri Vantas is correct? That is capital e Embarrassing.

[herejusttosufferalong]

I saw a comment somewhere that it is normal for people to develop feelings for each other while playing love interests and that intimacy coordinators recommend that they wait until this project is done and take some space to see if those feelings are real before acting on them. I think this might be what is going on here.

From what I observe, I think L&N do have romantic feelings/attraction to each other but it seems like they have an understanding with each other. My guess is that those feelings have been acknowledged and talked about between them, and maybe a plan put in place for however they are going to proceed. I think the conversations have been had and they know what they are to each other, even if it doesn’t have a label. I think they are mindful both about wanting to protect their friendship and their working relationship. It may be a little messy along the way, but I think they are both along for that ride, wherever it leads. The plan might include “seeing other people,” or “being on a break,” it may be “not now,” or “I don’t know what the future will bring.” From what I can tell, they are good with each other and N does not seem upset with L for pursuing something with A, whatever the nature of that relationship. Maybe he is handling his feelings the way he needs to, maybe he needs companionship or distraction, or maybe he is really into her, who knows? But I don’t think it takes anything away from what N&L have together. If I am not mistaken, they never say they are “just” friends, because they are not. There is a lot more to it than that, they have so much intimacy with each other, they mean something to each other that doesn’t fit into any normal boxes, and I think they do understand that and value whatever it is they have, even if it gets messy and complicated at times. All I know is that I’m not going to get upset on N’s behalf when we don’t know what is going on the scenes. She loves him and supports him, clearly and publicly. I think he adores her too. Just because he is dating someone else doesn’t make that untrue. It doesn’t have to look the way other people think it should for it to be real.

.

[pacific-rimbaud]

i was reading your thoughts on how fans felt about l&oha and while i concur it is a perfect piece of work in my head and have reread it 5x, i wonder if you think fans tend to be harsher/more critical of hermione and let draco slide? i see it a lot in fics where he's more of an alphahole type

Oh, man. Okay. The can is open, the worms are loose. Rant under the cut.

I'm actually going to set men aside entirely. Just. To the side with you. I desperately need more realistically complicated men, too, but that's a whole separate discussion. Right now: women.

There must be whole dissertations out there on the phenomenon of readers hating female characters with negative traits. I'm a fandom old, so I didn't grow up identifying with Hermione, and wouldn't have even if I'd been young enough to. I did that "which character are you" test just now and my top three matches were Janis Ian from Mean Girls, Jughead from Riverdale and April from Parks and Rec, which, massive grain of salt, etc. BUT gives you an idea. I am not a Hermione and never was, so she's never been a comfort character or self-insert for me. Some of my favorite fictional women are Sophie Hatter (mean, irrational, petty, old and mostly loving it), Harrowhark Nonagesimus (evil stick), Phryne Fisher (zero fucks to give). What I like about Hermione is how imperfect she is. I'm a "cleverest witch of your age I've ever met" truther (book!Lupin is absolutely saying "you're the canniest 14 year-old child I have personally met, saying this as a guy who doesn't get out much," not "you are a once-in-a-century genius"), and from my perspective, she's often wrong and often a dick, and not in a fun and fiesty burn-down-the-world BAMF way. Which. Good for her! Be human.

And that's the thing. I personally don't want Hermione to be perfect, I want her to be what I think she is, textually, which is intelligent, hardworking, loyal, competitive, compassionate, controlling, belittling, rude, petty, insecure, vindictive, volatile. She has the right to be that way, because she's human. The desire for perfected women (or unapologetically and unstoppably awful ones, another brand of female power fantasy) is not limited to Dramione fandom. I think it's amplified in DHr by many readers who DO identify as former gifted children, books-as-coping-mechanism kids and Strong Female Personalities who felt marginalized in childhood and want to see Hermione have it all: she's slim, she's tiny, she's fragile as a bird, she'll break your neck, she'll step on your throat, she'll tear down the system, she'll heal all wounds, she does not need help, she holds all the knowledge, she holds all the cards, she is forever wronged, she can do no wrong, her vagina is tight, her nipples are hard, her hair is on point, her waist is tiny, her tits are bouncing, her ass is in the style of Now. And like. This isn't at all unique to DHr and Hermione. It's pervasive in fiction written by and for women. Female power fantasies are obviously feeding a massive hunger. It's just not what I personally want. Personally, I find it alienating and uncomfortable, which I know equates to, "That is wrong and shouldn't exist" to a lot of people, but that's its own tale as old as time.

There's a disconnect that happens too often where a reader wants one (1) thing from their fiction, and receives something else, even when the contents are clearly labeled on the tin. In this case, wanting a female power fantasy and encountering a woman who's written with flaws makes people upset. And maybe if we could be more honest with ourselves about what we're looking for when we read, work to accept that not everyone wants the same experience, and learn to close a book when it's not working for us and say, "No shade, this isn't for me," it would be less upsetting when we encounter a character who isn't written to meet our personal expectations. I will open a book, realize the FMC is a female power fantasy archetype and close it, because that's not what I show up for. I like my women gritty and weird and foolish and vulnerable and liable to hurt people and feel terrible about it. Give me all the exhausting chatterers and evil sticks and jocks with swords and their hearts on their sleeves (their hearts ripped out), give me shy Anne Elliot and her suitcase full of regrets and the ugly fuckup who never has a glow up, give me dirtbag stoners and Fleabag and Alicent Hightower apologetics and every role Natasha Lyon has ever played. It's not a moral high ground, it's about a preference for seeing actual, demeritus flaws on the page and on the screen. Blame that woman. It's her fault. She has so many faults. Then show me how to forgive her so I can figure out how to forgive myself.

The thing is, I love women. I love women so fucking much. I want to be around them, to get to know them, to read about them, to watch them on TV and see them in films. And personally, I like them ugly. Physically. Spiritually. Morally. Give a woman a Bad Personality and watch her succeed in the most self-injurious way possible, fuck you. Give her a gaping chest wound and line it with teeth. Stick a piece of grit in that girl's tightly sealed shell so that a pearl is her only option. Make her love other women, make her fuck it up, make her have to earn them back.

Thankfully I do feel like we're getting more ugly women in fiction, especially BIPOC, queer and marginalized women who deserve gross, weird, nasty representation and not just didactic moralism, patronization and misguided sainthood. Some readers won't want that, and that's fine. Again, personally (it's all so personal, please, please remember that when you hit that comment button), I'm here for it. If you write about women like this, know that you have a thirsty reader here. I'm swallowing them up. I'm smacking my lips. I'm smashing my mug on the cafeteria floor and calling for another.

[thegainingdesk]

I've been hovering between 36" and 38" trousers for a little while. I've noticed this past week that my trousers were getting uncomfortable every time I wore them, but for the life of me I couldn't find any of my 38s. A couple of pairs were definitely in the wash, but I knew for a fact there's at least one clean pair somewhere. Whatever, they're pinching but I'll live in these 36s for a while and just be glad that I've officially, unequivocally made the transition up a size.

I actually bothered checking the label today. These are my 38s. My 36s won't just be "pinching", they're completely out of the question. And I don't want to say "I wear 40" waist trousers" if I've not actually tried them on, but... I mean, I'd better buy a couple of pairs, right? Should I pick up a pair of 42s? For that inevitable moment?

There's something so utterly visceral about outgrowing clothes. The increasing tightness against your growing body, contrasting with the blessed relief, the comfortable looseness once you size-up - and knowing, knowing, that soon you'll fill up all that extra space too, that soon these clothes will be the ones that are too tight, too restricting, too small, ready for the process to repeat.

Maybe, to some extent it's because it's so much easier to compare clothing sizes - weights are tricky. I see someone the same weight as me and I think how much bigger they look, or how my gut is rounder, or my thighs are softer, or their moobs bigger . Clothes sizes are official - we wear the same size, we fill the same volume. You're still in 36s? Ah, shame, I've just bought a pair of 40s.

Over the summer I went on a short holiday with friends. At one point, me and one of my closest friends were just lounging about on the sofa in our pyjamas, half-asleep, Wimbledon on in the background while everyone was out. We both sort-of woke up at about the same point, and he made a little comment about my shirt riding up. I tried to tug my shirt down and he just laughed because clearly it wasn't working. Now, this friend is straight, but we're close, he's made some jokes about my weight gain, he's at least semi-aware that I at least don't mind the added weight (a story for a different time), so he doesn't particularly mind my gut sticking out a touch, but he says I should probably put on something a bit more covering before everyone else is back.

And as I'm changing I realise that I was wearing a large t-shirt. Now, at the time I was sort of between L and XL - both worked, I could tell L's were getting a little restrictive, and I had a desired trajectory towards adding some X's, so my wardrobe was a bit of a mix of the two, but up until that point, large shirts had definitely fit. All of a sudden, they're not just a little tight, or I can feel the difference or whatever, they're indecently small - literally, someone had just told me to change to make myself decent. And that's a large; it's in the name, right? It's not huge but it's large. Larger than average. Larger than most people.

And this friend is a lot smaller than me - he wears small and medium shirts. All of a sudden I'm realising that this shirt, the shirt I'd just outgrown, that I'll never fit into again, would be way too big for him. I'm not just bigger than him, I'm bigger than people who are bigger than him. If he asks me to borrow a shirt, I have to apologise for how my old, too-tight shirt from the back of my wardrobe will be too big for him, but it'll work in a pinch. I ask him if I can borrow a shirt and I'll burst out of it like a scene from one of my stories.

Better buy some 2XL's ready for the next time he has to make a comment like that. Some 42s as well. Hopefully I'll be in them before Wimbledon rolls round again.

[valentoru]

|| Limitless ||

[CHAPTER 11]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PREVIOUS : MASTERLIST : NEXT

Suguru Geto.

Suguru Geto. Took the music world by storm in 2015, topping the charts within a year of his first single. Probably one of the most popular male singers to date. With his own record company with the most prestigious label behind it. Most singers come into the industry with his status as an end goal. Holding some of the most insane musical records. More Grammys than you could count on your fingers. Every musical artist aspired to be like him, took inspiration from him, no matter what type of music the create. Holding some of the most staple and massive concerts. More than enough speculations behind him. Suguru Geto.

Suguru Geto. Stood in front of you calling your fake-date “bro” and “dude.” To say this situation had shocked you would be a complete understatement. You were void of words, thoughts. You couldn’t make a single coherent string of thoughts.

You were staring at him, baffled, his mouth was moving but you had no clue what he was saying. You needed to sit down asap.

He was looking at you with a slightly cocked head, had he asked you something? You clocked back into reality.

“Wait…” he narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you..?”

Satoru watched as you two communicated, it was like just by looking at your faces you could hear the cogs working in your heads.

“Y/N L/N.” You stared at him for a long moment while the puzzle pieces fell into place. “We we’re supposed to meet this afternoon to discuss the event.”

He took a breath and held it then released it slowly. His eyes flicked between you and Satoru a few times before his eyes blew wide. A long “ohhhhh” falling past his lips. “So you’re the girl I’ve been hearing about. Man, I didn’t think you had it in you.” He clapped a hand against Satoru’s shoulder.

Clearly the whole not wanting to feed the fake dating crap to someone who was clearly a good friend was completely thrown out the window as Geto had heard about it all himself.

You opened your mouth to explain when Satoru cut you off, “You two know each other?” You both looked at him, you had almost forgot he was standing with the two of you.

“Oh right, I already told you, Y/N is the lady I was meeting with today.” Satoru’s mouth changed into a “o” of understanding. “Hey since we’re already here why don’t you pitch yourself you me now?” You froze. Your blood felt cold. What did he just say? Pitch it now? You weren’t ready.

There was no way you were doing it now, you couldn’t even think straight, let alone pitch it. How were you going to recite everything without messing it up. Your mind felt like a tornado had just gone right through it and messed everything up.

Before you could respond Geto had a hold of your hand and was dragging you back into the cafe. He took you over to a table, Satoru following closely behind you. He sat down and motioned to the place across from him. You parked yourself.

“Okay, Y/N tell me why you want this. Sell your band.” You stared at him, recollecting your thoughts, he was staring at you, waiting. You began to recite what you had practiced, maybe your voice had sounded robotic or something but he cut you off. “No no, not what you practiced. Tell me why you want to do this charity event, what it means to you.”

You really didn’t fancy telling this man your whole life story so you decided to condense it down. “I feel that the band will really benefit from a charity event, additionally cancer is a close subject to me and the other members. It would be empowering to do an event for it.”

“Which is really nice, but it’s still not why you want it, Y/N. Tell me, what does this mean to you.” He poked his finger against the table. Satoru could sense your growing discomfort. He gave Geto a look but he simply dismissed and continued to persist.

“Okay, fine. When I was younger I lost my mother to pancreatic cancer, doing an event to support a charity fighting against it would be empowering for me. My mother was very important to me and the last person I had. I want to do this for her.” You hadn’t noticed it but a tear has rolled down your cheek. You were too focused on watching your hands ring in your lap.

Satoru slapped his hand across Geto’s arm. Geto once again dismissed it, smiling brightly at you. “I’m sold!” You looked up from from your hands at him. “I mean, first you make this sadistic fucker happy and I’d love to give you an outlet to honour your mother. Also I listened to your music and I like everything that you guys make! I’m sold!”

You sat up straight reaching your arm out to shake his hand. He didn’t return it, instead he got up and hugged you. You hugged back.

Then he released you, walked back over to his seat. He sat down and looked between you two. “Okay, now tell all the juicy details about you two.” For such an “emo” looking guy, he sure was social, you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t caught you off guard.

Your head swung round to Satoru, you hadn’t spoken about this yet. He wasn’t looking at you, so you decided to take the initiative. “Well we were both, uh, here late one night and we were both in the break room and I dunno it just sort of happened.”

Satoru stayed silent, clearly he couldn’t come up with anything either so decided to let you do the talking. “You know we’ve seen each other around and stuff. I made the first move.” Satoru’s head snapped around to you, his eyebrows furrowed. You shrugged at him trying to make the unspoken communication between you and him unnoticeable. If Geto had seen either of you, he would have known immediately and called bullshit, they seemed like really good friends.

Geto nodded. “Well I must say I’m shocked that anyone at all can make this guy happy, in the ten years I’ve known him I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile. Well done, Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself. Even if the relationship was fake, it was still nice to hear people talking about you like that. You grabbed your phone to check the time. Shit. You were late again. You stood up quickly.

“I’m so sorry I’m going to have to go.”

Geto smiled, understanding. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow with the rest of your band to discuss the business side of things. I look forward to doing work with you, Y/N.” He extended his hand at you, you cupped his hand. A hand shake. Now this whole deal felt a little more real.

You smiled and thanked him then slung your bag over your shoulder and left the cafe. You head for the elevator, pulling your phone out of your pocket and immediately went to your messages.

TAGLIST(30/50): @bbmsxlene @lunavelha @satoryaa @tranzumaki @k-kkiana @luvkvni @lysaray @kalulakunundrum @arysbruv @r4veeen @stillnotherapy @catobsessedlady @colortheoryrocks @minzxec @dazqa @packsvlog @luvvmae @simplysm1le @mintfyi @fushigurosgirl @littlecritteryay @fackeraccount @astro-stars @lavender-hvze @miizuzu @rayrayline @kanaojacksonofc @letsmyy @serenadesvt @art-n-rot

AN:

There’s a chance…a tinnnny little chance that I might have forgot to upload this when I planned to🤔

ANYWAY HERES THE CHAPTER I hope you like it I cried over it personally.

© valentoru all rights reserved- do not publish my work on other platforms, plagiarise or translate.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Not Quite Right: Endings

a/n: so @eyesofsix... the uhm... the leon fanart hit a lil too hard... hehe... so yeah this is all thanks to u!!!

tw: death in the sad ending

there's both endings and both are clearly labeled so like.. uhm... yeah they're both short as hell im so done with this one cowboy leon needs to gtfo.

HAPPY ENDING

wc: 419

<><><><>

You found refuge in your grandma’s farm, quitting your job as the barkeep. Of course, no one misses you, no one even noticed it was a different girl tending to the drinks, because no one noticed you like he did.

Like Leon did. Your thoughts often drift to him, wondering where he is and if he thinks of you too. You miss him more and more often, eventually earning you lectures from your grandma when you started daydreaming in the chicken coop.

You try to make sense of his sudden departure, the ache of loss heavy in your chest, even as the days turn into weeks. You find yourself going through the motions of life, but a part of you remains stuck in that moment on the porch, watching Leon walk away. 

And then, one evening as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you hear a familiar sound - the soft tread of a horse. Your heart leaps in your chest as you turn.

But it’s not him. You should know that. It’s just the mailman, known to you by that burgundy, rich cocoa colored horse, face hidden under his dusty hat as you sullenly reach for the envelope.

“What’s a gal like you doing with that face?” he teases. Did his voice get deeper? You glare up at him, and your heart nearly stops.

It’s not the mailman after all. It’s him, the evening light turning his features golden.

"I couldn't stay away," he admits, his voice soft and tentative as he slings his body over the side of the horse. "I tried, honestly."

You rise from the steps, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Relief, joy, and a lingering sense of hurt all fighting for dominance. "Why did you leave, then?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Leon steps closer, his eyes searching yours, trying to convey what he can. "I can't live without you. It took a whole lot of drinks to realize that," he jokes dryly.

You take a step towards him, the distance between you shrinking with each heartbeat. "I missed you," you confess, the words hanging in the air between you.

His hand reaches out, cupping your cheek gently. "I missed you too, sweetheart. I think... we can make it work, yeah?"

And in that moment, the sun seals the dusty desert behind you. On the same porch he broke your heart, he stitches it back together with his flaring, just right kisses.

-------------------------

SAD ENDING:

wc: 670

<><><><>

Leon tried drinking you away. Whiskey, bourbon, too many drinks at the bar leads to the new bartender kicking him out, sending him stumbling through the hot, dry and empty streets.

He supposes he could make do with some girl, a sweet farmer’s daughter, but where would that leave him? Still wishing for you, every moment of his life, that’s where, just as he is now.

The bitter wind does little to sober him up. All he can think about is you - your smile, your laugh, the way you made him feel like he was more than just a man struggling to do the right thing.

But as it does with everything, his secrets drove you away, and now all he has is this empty hole in his heart and the bottle held tight in his hand for company. 

The morning sun feels like needles stabbing into Leon's brain as he saunters, as if out of instinct, to your grandmother's little farmhouse on the outskirts of town, where he heard you were working for the time being. Maybe, just maybe, she would know where you had gone.

The bar is an infinite amount of space, an expanse of loneliness, and everyone in there blames him for your disappearance. In a way, he supposes, it’s his fault.

Your grandma takes pity on the bedraggled man on her doorstep, taking one look at his haggard expression before welcoming him inside with a gentle, "Oh dear, you look like you could use some coffee."

Leon mutters his thanks as he collapses at the kitchen table, grateful for the hot mug she placed before him. He waits for you to descend the stairs, a long dress fluttering around your ankles, the pause of your sentence when you lock gazes.

But it doesn’t happen, and after several long sips he finally finds the courage to ask, "Ma'am, is your granddaughter here? I really need to see her, to apologize-"  

But the kind smile falls from your grandma's face as she shakes her head sadly. "I'm afraid she is gone, dearie. Couldn't stand to stay in this town with all the memories haunting her. Packed up and left without even saying goodbye."

Surprisingly, even after convincing himself that there was a life to live outside of you, his world seems to crash down around him once more, just another repercussion of his mistakes. 

So he becomes a twisted puzzle, an amalgamation of broken vines and gnarled branches, all because he had lost the best thing that ever happened to him because he was too broken to accept someone might actually want to help piece him back together. 

He realizes why you left. He doesn’t blame you - never did. He finds the image of you the storm cloud following him around, unable to escape the ghost of what once was. The guilt poisons his judgment, tainted by the alcohol he downed every night, burning his throat.

The darkness of the bluff overlooking the town, the rocky ledges he had once hoped to take you climbing, or riding horses, all fantasies playing out in his head like a movie never released, mirroring the gloom that had settled in his soul. 

He stands there, teetering on the edge, the whistling of the wind, a hypnotic lullaby calling to him, tempting him with the promise of release from his suffering. With trembling hands, an empty flask and the bar closed, the drinks weigh down his already heavy heart. 

Leon takes a step forward.

As he plummets toward the ground, a flicker of regret flashes through his mind, a fleeting moment of clarity; what if you had come back? What if you had decided that you would spare him a second chance, grace him with those cocoa eyes of yours, soft like the dying sun?

But the warm embrace of the sandy ocean envelopes him, he knows that some choices can never be undone, some losses never truly regained. Some ideas just aren’t meant to be.

Because some things are never quite right.

[lanitalay]

Supernatural 2

in which you encounter a couple of hunters on a case

Azriel x reader

a/n: babes I'm alive. I have been traveling for a while and have not had the mental capacity to write anything but here is a lil fic to remind you I'm still here lol

warnings: angst, canon typical violence

wordcount:1.5k

Part 1

When three loud knocks rattle the dingy motel room door, Azriel rolls his eyes. He noticed you left your keys behind and when you did not come back he assumed you had gone to Dean. The night was spent in itchy sheets, tossing and turning to the thought of you in another’s bed. Before he opened the door, he steeled his face, wiping away any semblance of care or concern. 

“Open up, pretty boy!” 

Weird. “Dean?” 

“Is y/n with you?” The eldest Winchester barges in. “Y/n!”

“I thought she was with you.” Guilt bites Azriel’s mouth as Dean shows him the cracked screen of a phone. Your phone. “Where did you find that?” Your partner snatches it out of the practical stranger’s hands. 

“Sammy and I went to the lobby to ask for more shampoo because someone refuses to get a haircut.” Sam huffs and finishes the explanation “there was nobody there, but we found her phone. It looked like it had been thrown against the wall or something.” 

Azriel couldn’t understand. Had you gotten that fed up with him? Had last night been the last straw for you? Had you broken your phone, the only thing keeping you on the grid, to spite him? He could almost hear you say “have it your way.” 

“Azriel?” Sam’s voice shakes him. 

“She left.”

“What?” It was Dean this time, bewildered. “Listen, we looked around the desk and found the ledger. Take a look.” Azriel’s mind was reeling and this guy wanted him to look at a ledger? He strained his eyes to focus on the wonky lettering. Amelia Johnson, Benjamin Parker, Chloe Thompson, Dominic Rodriguez, Emma Smith, Finnegan O'Connor…

“Why are you showing me this?” His world had just fallen apart and these guys wanted to work a case? 

Dean groans.“Clearly Y/n is the brains in your operation, take a closer look.”

Azriel rereads: Room 9, Amelia Johnson, Benjamin Parker, Chloe Thompson, Dominic Rodriguez, Emma Smith, Finnegan O'Connor, Azriel Singer, Y/n Y/l/n.

Oh. 

Crap. 

“Crap, crap, crap.” You take in the gray bodies of people you had been trying to save for a week. Your arm hurt, a lot. Because of how you were tied you couldn’t look to see what had been done to it. But based on how your vision blurred at the edges, you deduced that blood had been drawn and based on how difficult it was to breathe, it had been a lot. 

The motel attendant walks in. With all the strength you can muster you spit at it. For what it did to those people, for what this would do to Azriel. He flashes his fangs. A warning.

“I must say, your blood is particularly delectable.” He rips your sore arm from its binding and jams a needle in it. Blinding pain shoots to your neck, up to your throat and a meek whimper escapes you. It was like he pierced your soul. For a second you think he’s draining more than just blood. Before a coherent thought can form your consciousness gives way to darkness. 

“She’s gotta be here. There must be a basement or cellar or backroom or-” Azriel is rambling, scouring through files and cursing himself for not having the blueprints to the motel. He had spent so much time in the archives and didn’t even think to get them. 

“Azriel, she’ll be ok. We will search this place up and down until we find her. But right now we have to sharpen our machetes and come up with a plan.” Sam said while Dean had already begun working on his weapon. 

An hour later they had set out to the lobby.

No one was at the front desk. The hunters quickly made their way to the back room. It was set up as an office. Papers piled sky high, most of them blank. Sam opened a door labeled “storage” and cursed when he shone a flashlight down a steep set of stairs. “Guys, over here.” He whispered. Vampires are heavy sleepers, especially after a meal but they needed to be careful. Azriel tightens his grip on his machete and follows Sam down, Dean watching his back. 

When they reach the landing, distant snoring lets them know they are not alone. There are two doors. Sam presses his ear against one and nods to the others, confirming that it's clear. He opens it, cringing at the squeak. Every damn hinge in this place is rusty. Azriel walks in, flashlight landing on a limp figure. A silhouette he could recognize anywhere, even as it was awkwardly hunched forward. He goes to check your pulse and sighs when he finds it. Weak, but there. 

“Hey, y/n, it's me. We’re gonna get you out of here.” Azriel whispers to your unconscious form while he tears through the ropes that secure you to the chair. Sam and Dean at your flank. He cuts through the bindings of your right arm, cursing to see it discolored, practically  mauled. When he moves it from your back to your front you shriek. Even with the gentleness of his touch your limb felt like it was on fire. The shriek turned into muffled moaning as Azriel covered your mouth with his hand. “Shhh, shhh, we have to be quiet.” 

But the warning was issued in vain. The motel attendant and the janitor were in the room in a matter of seconds. Engaging both winchesters in combat. “Get her out, Az!” Dean shouted through the slashing of machetes against the metal chair the vampire was using as a weapon. 

“I’m sorry if this hurts.” Azriel apologizes as he cuts through the last of the rope and picks you up, aiming to lunge up the stairs. Before he can begin the climb though, the janitor throws Sam across the room and into the pair of you. Azriel does his best to shield your head from the blow. In the beat that it takes Sam to recover the janitor is on you, yanking you away from Azriel and piercing the delicate flesh of your neck with its fangs. 

It's all Azriel sees as he storms forward, swinging his machete like a Tasmanian devil. The janitor is so enthralled by your blood he reacts too late to the blow that severs his head from his body. Your legs give out and Azriel lurches forward to catch you, looking back to Sam who says “go, I’ll finish the job with Dean.”

You woke up in pain. But you woke up in a bed to worried hazel eyes. “Az? Az! The manager and the janitor-”

“I know, Sam and Dean are dealing with them now.” 

“And the people..?”

He shook his head. It was a confirmation of what you had already known, but it did not hurt any less.

Azriel laid down next to you, offering his shoulder for you to lean on. Quiet tears streamed down your face. It was long before he broke the silence “we need to get you to a hospital.” 

Just then, Sam and Dean walked back, covered in blood and clothes tattered to bits. 

“That last sucker put up one hell of a fight.” 

“I’m gonna take y/n to the hospital, thank you for every-”

Dean waved his hands “no no, we got a guy for that. Let me call Cas.”

Azriel and you share a look before you ask. “You know Cass?” 

Sam and Dean share a look. “You know Cas?” 

“We know Cass, but you wouldn’t actually call him for medical attention.”

“Then it’s not the same Cas. Give me a minute.” He never takes out his phone but before you can remark on the effectiveness of his call a flash of light blinds you and at the foot of the bed stands a stoic man in a trench coat.

“What the hell…” 

“Castiel this is Azriel and Y/n. Guys this is Cas, he’s an angel.” Dean’s shit eating grin makes you want to slap him. 

“Dean said that you needed healing?”

You look at your bloodied body and nod.

“This will hurt, but it will be over quickly.” He places a hand on your head and molten energy courses through your veins. It feels like your body will combust from it. In a second it's over though and you are left in a panting mess, no gashes anywhere on your body. 

You pack up quickly after that. Promising the boys you will stay in touch and reach out if you ever need help. 

Soon enough you and Azriel are back in the front seat on his truck. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?”

“About last night-”

“I know.”  You lean into him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I think there's a case in Florida, I was just reading an article about…” 

You knew the conversation had to happen at some point. Someone was bound to give in or to give up. But there were monsters out there and also, apparently, angels.

[catiecat1320]

New fic! For one of @pretzlforpresident's AUs :D

Synopsis: Sonic discovers something disturbing about Metal

Read Below🔽

When Tails alerted him of a new Eggman base, Sonic accepted the offer with glee, figuring it’d be like every other time. He’d go in, kick some butt, trash the place, and claim another win. Easy!

But of course, things had to get more complicated than they should be. And not the good, exciting complicated this time.

Oh, no.

The base itself had been exactly as always. A different layout, maybe, as if that’d throw him off. Fresh materials signaled that it was newly constructed, not a single scratch on pristine walls. He changed that pretty quick.

Badniks, booby traps, the usual. He tore through all of them, reinforced steel giving in to his spin dash with satisfying crunches that left him grinning. You’d think that Eggman would learn something from losing this many times, but apparently not. 

Blowing a raspberry at the nearest security camera before taking it out of commission, something bright red caught his eye. A gaudy “Do Not Enter” sign handily showing him the entrance to the control center. Heh, this was too easy.

It wasn’t until he blew a hole in it, the poor badnik that he kicked through tumbling across the room, that his world came crashing down.

“Metal!” Sonic exclaimed at the sight of his robotic copy, a bit too much cheer in his voice. “I didn’t expect you to be here! Should make things… more…”

He didn’t usually pay attention to screens. Info grabbing wasn’t his job, nor was it a goal today. But this took up the entire wall, the glow backlighting his enemy standing before it, no visible reaction to his dramatic entrance. 

It was hard to ignore the file, labeled clearly with PROJECT: METAL SONIC.

It was even harder to ignore the profile of a young hedgehog, her bright smile hauntingly familiar.

“...Tania?”

No more than a whisper, but Metal turns around. 

As much as Sonic would like to say that something magical happened right then, the only thing remotely close was the chaos energy that blazed in the robot’s core booster as they lunged, ferocity rivaling that of Shadow on a bad day. If he’d ducked a millisecond later, Sonic was sure his head would be rolling on the floor.

Inertia carried Metal through the ragged hole in the wall, giving the hero a brief reprieve to prepare himself before the badnik came at him full force, claws extended like knives.

“Wait, wait!” Sonic caught the charge with both hands, his fingers interlocking with Metal’s. His arms would be thanking him for that later, he winced, gritting his teeth to the jolt of pain as he pushed back. At least he didn’t dislocate one.

He opened his mouth to say something, not that he knew what to say. Cold, sharp steel punctured the backs of his hands as Metal tightened their grip, the heat flaring from their booster causing beads of sweat to dot Sonic’s face. 

They showed no sign of stopping. If anything, they increased power, brute force easing the deadlock in their favor. If those digital red eyes could show any emotion at all, Sonic was sure it’d be pure hate. 

None of the little sister he’d been looking for.

Forced back, the smooth floor offered no purchase to his skidding shoes. As he hit the adjacent wall, the Metal’s sheer force allowed him to get up horizontally and propel himself forward using his legs, twisting their positions to hopefully gain an upper hand. 

Sonic didn’t predict the way Metal grabbed his wrists, using what was supposed to help the former to their own advantage. The big screen flickered as they flung the surprised hedgehog into it, an ugly crack splattering where he landed quills first.

“Met—gUH!” he wheezed, cut off as said robot grabbed him by the neck, what air was left in him forced out in a strangled squeak. “Mmph—! L-listen…” Sonic tried, attempting in vain to pry Metal’s hands off him and they squeezed, an uncomfortable amount of pressure crushing his trachea and decorating his vision with spots of color. “...please!”

“METAL SONIC! WHAT IS THIS?!” a voice that was undeniably Eggman’s echoed from somewhere in the building. “I TOLD YOU TO PROTECT THE BASE! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!”

Metal, of course, having no voice box, couldn’t respond. But it served as enough of a distraction for them to loosen their hold, giving Sonic just what he needed to wrench himself out of their grasp, a swift kick to the booster sending them flying into the opposite wall.

Oxygen rushing to his brain brought both relief and nausea as the hedgehog crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. Eggman was back, and clearly unhappy. He was out of time. 

Sonic shakily stood up, throwing a glance back as red eyes pierced him from across the room. Metal’s file was still open, a large crack in the glass cutting right through the face of Tania. 

It seemed… creepily symbolic. He felt something lodge in his throat, although that might be because Metal had a death grip on it five seconds ago. There was no time to dwell on it. He committed that marred image to memory as he smashed through the control panel, an error message flashing on the screen for a split second before it went dark. 

A louder “METAL?” told of Eggman’s approach as the badnik turned toward the sound before looking back, energy flickering in their core as they prepared for another attack. But their opponent was already gone, a fading blue trail the only sign that he was ever there.

Sonic popped out a vent and crawled onto the grass with a stuttered sigh, the sky a welcome sight. As much as he liked to mess with Eggman… not today.

“Tania,” he whispers, no one but the wind to hear him. The clouds above him seemed to morph into her face the longer he looked.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

[cwritesforfun]

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader: LOVE

You work closely with Rod and focus on booking bands for festivals. You know Teddy because you've attended rehearsals of different bands and he's always friendly with you.

Your First Name = Y/N Your Last Name = L/N Narrator = Julia Dunne (but Narrator for sake of the story)

**** the timeline is going to seem weird lol but I'm just writing what I want to write lol

Narrator: Could you just introduce yourself and what you do? Y/N: Of course, so my name is Y/N. Back in the '70s, I was attending college while also interning/assisting a festival booking agent. My boss, Mr. Murray, trusted me and was too high to do his job most of the time, so I got to find bands for festivals. It was amazing. I've always loved music and I love discovering new music even now. Narrator: And when did you meet The Six? Y/N: I met them as they were recording Aurora. Teddy invited me as well as their tour manager, Rod, who was someone I knew in the music industry to hear what they would be playing for upcoming concerts. I had heard Honeycomb and like the rest of the world, I was hooked by the new sound that the Six brought to the world. I was very excited, but I had to act professionally at the rehearsal. It was my job.

You arrive at the rehearsal, see Rod parking next to you, and you smile. Perfect timing. You shake hands with him before you both head inside to the rehearsal space. All heads turn our way.

Y/N: My first thought was how hot the whole band was. Eddie: Y/N was so beautiful. She was dressed so professionally and held herself so confidently when she first walked in.

Rod exclaims, "This is Y/N, she's a festival booking agent intern." Billy asks, "So, where's the other festival booking agent? The Mr. Murray." You answer, "Mr. Murray is unavailable today but will be present at the festival. To clarify, I am your primary point of contact regarding festivals and have the necessary authority to make decisions about festival lineups. If you have any doubts about my ability to do so, I can inform Mr. Murray that your band is not interested in playing festivals." Billy replies, "No no. You're great actually. I guess I just thought he would be here." You snap, "Learn to accept that people might let you down." Daisy replies, "Story of my life. My name is Daisy Jones."

Y/N: I was used to everyone thinking that I was too young and that I wouldn't be able to do my job. That's how so many bands were put on the blacklist for festivals. I would just label them as Uninterested. Do I regret snapping at Billy? No. I know the lead singer stereotype and also I wanted to book The Six. Eddie: I was in love with her. As soon as she stood up to Billy, I wanted to bow down at her feet and just praise her. Daisy: I liked Y/N. I liked her confidence in her position. It was refreshing to see young women who were taking over male roles. Billy: Y/N was right to snap. I shouldn't have assumed anything. Rod: I forget Y/N was only 21 when this happened. She seemed so mature in her responses.

The band sets up to play a few songs for you and Rod. You take a seat on the couch with Rod and he offers you a glass of champagne, which you gladly take. The band plays and you love it so much.

Y/N: I loved Daisy Jones and The Six. They were amazing, especially their new album. Each song brought something new and was collectively beautiful. Eddie kept meeting my eyes as he played. It was hot. Billy: After we played for Y/N and Rod, it was nerve-wracking. I didn't know what would happen or when. Rod said he knew we would sell places out. I was surprised how quick Y/N flipped through her binder and found a slot for us at 3 festivals. I shouldn't have doubted her abilities. She showed us how she picked them, why they aligned with our music, and how they would promote our music more. She clearly had a passion for festivals and music. Eddie: Y/N gave us all business cards with her number. Did I want to use it for personal reasons? Yes. Did I? Not yet. Daisy: I was the first one from the band to call Y/N on her personal phone. She seemed surprised to hear from me. See, Camila invited me to a house party with the rest of the band and I didn't want to show up alone. I knew the band liked Y/N and she was intimidating, so I invited her to go with me. She said yes. Y/N: Hahaha, yeah it was so weird. Usually, my first call from the band is someone claiming there is something wrong with their hotel room and that mine would be better. That one never works. They just want sex. I also get asked to become a groupie because bands love my energy at shows. So Daisy's call inviting me to a party was actually kind of nice. I shouldn't mix work with fun, but who cares? I was 21 and needed some fun in my life. I also didn't own a car, so sharing a taxi was fun. Daisy and I drank a whole bottle of wine.

Daisy drops the extra bottle of wine and we both just laugh then she seems annoyed. You exclaim, "Look, you still have the pineapple and I still have cookies. They don't need wine." She replies, "Yeah, but I feel like Billy will hold this against me." You reply, "Direct him to me then." She smiles.

We walk in and Camila is happy. She excitedly talks to us and gets us drinks. She seems sweet. Billy walks over and you can feel the tense energy in the room. He apologizes to you for what he said when you first met. You thank him and ask where the rest of the band is only to find out they are all outside.

You make your way outside, see more drinks, grab one, and then the rest of the band sees you. Warren pulls you into a hug, which you weren't expecting. Then Graham and Karen give you hugs. Then Eddie gives you one and you feel your heartbeat skip a beat. Great.

Graham asks, "So, how was the ride with Daisy?" You answer, "We drank a whole bottle of wine. It was good." Warren laughs and asks, "Have you heard any bands better than us for festivals?" You answer, "No, you all are my favorite. But, you can't tell anyone. It will ruin my job. I'm serious. If I find out one of you ruined this job for me, you're done." Karen says, "I think you need more alcohol." You nod and answer, "I do." Eddie: Y/N was intimidating. She was a smart and beautiful woman who didn't put up with anyone's shit. I was scared to talk to her. But, Warren convinced me to approach her and talk to her at that party. I was nervous as hell, but that conversation was good. We talked for a while and we got to know each other. Y/N: Eddie was so nervous and it was so cute. I was nervous too. I didn't want to slip up and ruin my job. I also was nervous about having a crush on a member of a band. I worked with several and I was worried he just wanted to use me for sex. Graham: I've never seen Eddie like that. He was with one girl for the whole party. He even called her a taxi to go home because she didn't want to spend the night. He was head over heels for her. Y/N: Eddie and I hung out just us two a few times before they went on tour. It was hard to get together because I was usually out of town or visiting bands and he was always rehearsing. I also went to another party at the band's house and I spent the night that time. I stayed in Eddie's bed next to him and that night was the start of our relationship. We both couldn't sleep and we both confessed that we liked each other. It was cute. Eddie: I still can't believe she liked me at the time. We went on a few dates, but then the tour was about to start. She was worried about my lifestyle during the tour and she told me that festival season kept her busy and that she was worried we wouldn't make time for each other. She also told me that it was okay if I slept with other girls because we weren't really in a relationship yet. I was falling in love with her at the time, but I hadn't fully come to terms with that yet. I told her she was the only one for me, but she didn't seem to trust me and I wouldn't have trusted me then either. I was still high or drunk all the time with no thoughts about the future. I wasn't the most trustworthy guy, but I wanted to be for Y/N. Trust is built and I know that. So, I agreed to a temporary break-up at least until the end of the tour if we still wanted to date at that point.

FESTIVAL STOP #1 ... 2 weeks into TOUR

Eddie: I was so excited to see Y/N again. I missed her and I realized I loved her when we were apart. I fell in love fast and that was scary to me because I knew that what I felt was real and what if she did not feel the same way. It was scary. When we pulled up to the festival in the middle of this desert, it was Mr. Murray waiting for us and I was so worried for Y/N. I didn't understand where she was and why she didn't greet us. I was worried she was fired or mad at me. Karen: I've never seen Eddie so worried or Billy so confused. You could tell that Mr. Murray didn't know the festival that well and Billy was annoyed about it. Eddie asked about Y/N at least 3 times. Mr. Murray just told us that she was our guide and we would see her later. I think Eddie had a lot on his mind and needed to see Y/N to be able to relax before the show. Y/N: Mr. Murray was hopeless. He was meeting the bands at the gate, but he wasn't giving them proper instructions. He would give them instructions on how to find the trailers and tell them when they were set to perform and that was it. I would have to find the bands long before their set and give them a proper rundown to make sure everything ran smoothly. I was running back and forth across the festival to make sure things went smoothly logistically. It was a nightmare of a day for the most part... Eddie was the light in my rather dark day.

You find Daisy Jones and The Six sitting outside the band trailers smoking. They all look so happy to see you and Rod says, "We had a great chat with your boss. I think Billy really enjoyed him." You glance at Billy who rolls his eyes. You laugh and exclaim, "That's why I'm here. I know you need a rundown and I'm here to make sure you know what to do for tonight. Is everyone ready?" They all nod and you talk them through the whole rest of the day/night. They ask questions and you're quick to clarify it all. By the end, they seem to understand everything and seem better off. You exclaim, "Great chat, okay, I'm going to find the 3 pm band. Their set is in 45 minutes and they have no crew nearby ready for setup. I will be back for you 40 minutes before your set unless Rod takes you to the stage." Rod says, "I don't mind. You seem busy. I know where to go and how to avoid crazy fans." You nod and you start to leave when you feel a hand on your wrist. You turn to see Eddie looking down at you with worried eyes asking you, "Can we talk?" You answer, "Sure," before you can stop yourself.

You lead Eddie to a quieter spot in the band area and he asks, "So... um... how have you been?" You sigh and ask, "Is this just to catch up? Listen, Eddie, today has been really stressful and my boss is making everything worse. If this isn't pressing, I need to go and fix this festival. If we need to talk, I will be off tonight and with you for a week. I can't wait to be off work and traveling with you for a week." He looks down at his hands and asks, "Was there anyone else while I was gone?" You take his hands in yours and answer, "No, there wasn't." He smiles and says, "Good. You're kind of it for me and I wanted to make sure we were on the same page." You press a light kiss on his cheek and say, "You're the only one for me too. I need to go, Eddie. You're going to play great tonight and I can't wait to see you perform live. I also cannot wait to travel with you. I do need to go." He kisses me on the cheek and says, "Thank you, and good luck. You got this, Y/N. I'll see you later."

Daisy Jones & The Six hit the stage. They're stunning. You swear, they just keep getting better and better. The audience goes crazy for them and you see so many silly fan signs about Billy. You even notice Mr. Murray enjoying the performance. You gave the band the sunset slot and

After their set, you're still double-checking everything for the headliner, but you notice the band lingering backstage. You run over to them, and ask, "Hey, if you guys want to watch our headliner, you can go upstairs to the second-floor view or you can watch over here. Whichever you prefer really." Daisy asks, "When are you free??" You answer, "Oh, I still need to make sure the headliner gets here and set-up for that is good. I can relax during their set, but then I have to make sure they get out of here just fine. I can't leave until it's all done. I have the name of the hotel you're staying at from Eddie and I can meet you all there after. I don't to keep you waiting." Rod says, "Dear Y/N, you will make one hell of a festival booking agent one day. I'm going to speak to your boss' boss about you." You say, "Thank you, sir. That's really kind of you." Mr. Murray storms over and says, "Y/N, we have an issue. Follow me." You wave bye to the band and follow your boss.

Y/N: They all stayed for the headliner. I left with them because Rod told my boss that they needed me that night. Mr. Murray didn't even fight him on it. I was happy about that. Narrator: What happened to Mr. Murray? Y/N: He was fired a few days after the festival. Most of the bands complained about him to their tour managers and their tour managers spoke to HR and HR spoke to his boss. I was called about the news while I was with Daisy Jones and The Six. I was also offered a pay increase until graduation and a full-time position after graduation. I would be able to view and sign the contract upon my return to work. Narrator: How was your week off? Y/N: It was one of the best weeks of my life.

You arrive at the hotel, happy to have a week off from work. You sit with the band in Daisy's bus eating burgers. You're still not sure how Rod knew your order. You were sitting on Eddie's lap on the couch next to Warren. Eddie has his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as if you were going to leave at any time.

Warren exclaims, "Y/N, Eddie asked your boss several times where you were earlier. Your boss didn't seem to want to answer that. I think he hated us. Because then Billy was sassing him and was annoyed too. Does your boss hate you or something?" You answer, "He didn't answer because he really had no idea where I was. I was running from stage to stage and to the trailers the whole day fixing his mess. It's his fault for not doing his job in the first place." Warren says, "You really helped Eddie relax before the show, Y/N. Did you guys have really hot sex or something?" You cough up some of the drink you were sipping on and Eddie says, "Dude, not cool." Warren shrugs and laughs then starts talking animatedly to a groupie. Eddie leans to your ear and whispers, "Let me know when you want to go. We have a hotel room for just us." I turn to face him and say, "That was very forward of you." His face blushes bright red and he says, "I wasn't saying that, but I mean I wouldn't mind that." You laugh and you lean in to kiss him on the lips, which he does.

You spend another hour or two with the band drinking and finally, you tell Eddie that you're tired. You take a shower together then get into bed. You lay your head on his chest and exclaim, "Just so you know, I'm really happy to be here right now." He asks, "Do you mean on tour, on break from work, or with me?" You answer, "All three, but mainly with you. I missed you a lot. I'm sorry I told you that we should part ways until the time was right. I was overthinking and overreacting to something that hadn't even happened." He kisses your forehead and says, "I missed you a lot too. I wrote a song about you. I also ... I think you should know that I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop myself." You look at him and kiss him on the lips. You say, "I'm falling in love with you too, Eddie. I want to hear that song one day when you're happy with it." He smiles and says, "You will, baby."

Eddie: We spent that night together and we were so blissfully happy. That was an amazing night. She loved me back. All was right in the world. Y/N: We were rudely awoken by Warren who came running into the room to tell us about the night he had. Eddie kept pulling me closer and closer the whole time as Warren spoke. Warren told us that our PDA was too much before he left. Eddie: I was happy. There was never enough PDA with the one you love. Warren: Haha yeah those two were attached at the hip the whole week starting that very first night and they were always kissing or touching in some way. I wanted that so badly. I wanted a girlfriend. My time would come just not yet. Y/N: The rest of that week was amazing. We had a great week together. When I had to return to work, Eddie and I both cried. The band drove me to the airport and I saw tears in all of their eyes. I loved to see that they loved me as much as I loved them. I truly loved that band, mainly Eddie. I got back to work and was promoted. It was great. I saw Eddie and the band at two more festivals. I didn't know that the last festival was going to be the last time I saw them all together as a band. I wish I had treasured that performance and that experience more. When Eddie left the band, he just showed up at my door. Eddie: I left and I knew where I had to go. I had to go to the one place where I felt at home and at peace. I went to see Y/N. She made me feel loved and appreciated. I love her. Narrator: I notice a wedding ring. Y/N: Eddie and I got engaged a year after the band broke up. Then, we got married a year after that. Warren was Eddie's best man and he was so happy for us. We were happy to have him there. Daisy and Karen showed up too. They were both so happy for us. Billy sent a present and a sweet note. Graham was also busy that weekend. Graham visited us with his wife once. Eddie was so happy at our wedding, and so was I. It was the best night of my life. Eddie: That wedding was the happiest night of my life. I married the love of my life. It was pure bliss. Warren: Eddie and Y/N's wedding was great. There was lots of booze, lots of dancing, and delicious food. Lisa and I had a great time there. Karen kept running on stage to play songs on the keyboard with the band, they loved it. Daisy was happy for Y/N and it was good to see her happy again. Daisy: I love Y/N. I wouldn't have missed her wedding for the world. Eddie is cool. I'm glad he and Y/N are together. Karen: I don't remember most of their wedding after 10 pm. I drank a lot and had a massive hangover the next day. I had fun. I was happy that Eddie found his soulmate. Y/N: Karen said I was Eddie's soulmate and it certainly feels like we were meant to be together. Narrator: And did you get the festival booking agent job? Y/N: Haha yeah I did. I run the place now. I still book festivals, but there is more flexibility with this job. I get to do what I love, which is something I am so proud to say. Eddie is a producer and he sends some of his clients to me for festivals. We love it when we see each other at work. We call each other work wife and work husband. Eddie: I love my job and I love seeing Y/N at work. My work and home wife forever and ever.

[azucarmorena97]

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.4)

Pt.3 || Pt.5

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

Recap: 𝙼𝚛.𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗: 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝚈/𝚗- 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚆𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝟷𝟸𝙿𝙼 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝.

You look up back up at Jungkook, who simply picks up the shot and holds it up in the air, "To the ride." Your shocked expression turns into a smile, and all you can think to do is pick your shot up as well. "To the ride."

You stare blankly into your mug of pitch black coffee; your mind is occupied with the events of yesterday, including the moment at the bar with Jungkook. The way he was being was so...incredibly human. One might even say he was being charming...? You shake your thoughts away for a moment before bringing the mug up to your lips and taking a long sip. You close your eyes and focus no the heat circulating throughout your body. You pick up your phone for the first time today and sigh when you see all of the notifications from your parents. I gotta call my dad back... "Later," You whisper, allowing yourself to avoid your responsibilities just a little longer as your skip over to the missed facetime from B/f/n.

"Good morning, Starshine!" She exclaims exaggeratedly; a reaction to your bedhead and freshly awakened puffy face. "Good morning," Your voice comes out more raspy than usual. "Oh, is that a new sultry voice you're trying out? It works." "No, I just had a really late night last night," You roll your eyes. "Late night, huh?" You already know what she's gonna say next, "With whom?" "With no one. I just had a drink at the bar, that's it." "You're lying." "I'm literallly telling the truth," You laugh, taking the phone over to the couch and setting the mug down on the side table, "I went to get a drink at the bar and..." "...and?" She asks, clearly getting excited once she senses your hesitance to divulge anymore information. "And...I ran into Jungkook." "Y/n L/n, did you take that boy home last night!?" You almost choke on your coffee, "What!? No! Of course not!" You feel your face flush, "I hardly know the man. I'm not taking him home." "I mean, you are going to be marrying him soon. Is it really that hard to imagine you...taking it out for a test run?" She smirks. "He's not a car, b/f/n, he's a person." She furrows her brows at you, a suspicious look on her face, "Human...right... weren't you just telling me you hated him?" "I do- or...I thought I did, but last night...I don't know. I feel like I saw a glimpse of this other side of him. He had this sad look in his eyes that kind of looked like how I feel a lot of the time, you know?" "...I've decided to accept it." "Accept...what?" "The fact that this train is leaving with or without our 'yes', so we may as well enjoy the ride along the way, right?"

After you'd taken the shot together, the both of you had fallen into a long silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. You both stared straight ahead as though deep in thought about the same thing: what it'll be like when you're married. Married. The word still sounded so strange. "I have a birthday party coming up on Friday...come, if you want." You looked over at him, raising an eyebrow, "You sure you want your fiance watching you party with other women?" You joked. He chuckled, "Technically you won't be my fiance until the contract goes through legal on...Saturday morning." "Ah yes, how romantic. In that case, I might swing by." "At least you won't have to bring me a gift," He picked up the medallion around his neck and gave a small smile. "And when the contract goes through, you won't even have to give me a ring," You add. "Perfect," You both laughed together. Interesting how you could joke together about something that neither one of you truly wanted to have to go through in the first place.

The moment came and went, as Jungkook received a call shortly after. He'd excused himself and said he'd be back, but you'd waited for twenty minutes and then threw in the towel. "How much for the drinks?" You asked the bartender. He shook his head, "Oh, don't worry. Mr.Jungkook told me to put all of your drinks on his tab." "Oh- okay. Thank you," You bowed, grabbing your clutch and walking yourself back up to your suite.

"Anyway, I'm trying to keep a positive mindset about him and about this situation." "Well, I'm happy that you're thinking positively because...your parents talked to me about you." You furrow your brows, "My- my parents? What about?" "They tried to get me to convince you to go back on your demands. Of course, being the amazing best friend that I am, I told them that I support you and that they should too," She says proudly, wanting your praise- but all you can feel is anger. "I can't believe them. I can literally never satisfy them." She nods, "Yeah...they're lucky you're even going through with this entire arrangement in the first place. It feels so...archaic." "Tell me about it," You sigh. "Alright, my boss is coming so I have to go," She rolls her eyes, causing you to chuckle, "Alright, bye."

You toss your phone onto the other end of the couch and look around your hotel room. How grand and big and beautiful it is, and here you are, all alone. You contemplate just calling your dad right now but ultimately decide not to ruin your morning before it's even begun. You gulp down the rest of the coffee and then begin to get ready to go downstairs for some breakfast before heading out to Mr.Jeon's office.

The car ride is fairly quick, though you would've liked just a few extra minutes to gather yourself. You're somehow more nervous today signing the contract than you were yesterday presenting your edits. You just feel like, at the last second, they'll back out and all of this will have been for nought. "We're here, Miss," Says the driver. You nod, "Thank you very much." He's about to step out of the car to open your door for you but you stop him, "No, it's okay. I've got it." "Are you sure?" "Yes, thank you." You bow, grabbing your purse and stepping out onto the sidewalk, the click of your heels sounding like music to your ears.

You'd decided on a pants suit that looked just professional enough while still accentuating your body in all the right places- afterall, it's a meeting, not a funeral. You're about to reach for the handle of the front door, but then your phone rings in your pocket. You take it out and groan when you see your dad's calling. "Dammit," You hiss before answering, "Hello?" "Y/n, where the hell have you been?" "South Korea," You say flatly. "Don't be a smartass. I've been calling you since yesterday. That little stunt you pulled with the Jeons was unacceptable-" Stunt? What is he even talking about? "Your mother and I have done everything for you. Everything. And you go an embarrass us by changing up the agreement that Mr.Jeon and I drew up and planned years ago. You can't just decide to change-" "Dad, stop talking. I'm so sick of you and mom throwing in my face how much you've done for me. Last I checked, you decided to have me. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be thrust into this situation. I'm doing this to honor you guys- but make no mistake, I have no qualms about putting my foot down anymore-" "Mind your tone, young lady." "No, dad. I will not mind my tone, nor will I go back on my demands. I'm going to go up there to Mr.Jeon's office and I'm going to sign that contract and that's it. This is my life being affected. Not yours." With that, you end the call and toss it into your purse and walk into the lobby of the building. "Hello, how may I help you this morning?" "Good morning, I'm here to meet with Mr. and Mrs.Jeon." "Name?" "Y/n L/n." She nods and picks up her phone, "Hello, Mr.Jeon. Ms.L/n is here for your 12 o'clock....mhm...okay, I'll let her know." She hangs up and walks around the counter, "The meeting is going to be in the conference room. His assistant will meet you on the 40th floor to lead walk you over," She say, walking you over to the elevators and pushing the door for you. "Okay, thank you," You say, bowing. She does the same and then returns to her desk.

This is definitely the longest elevator ride you've ever taken, though you appreciate the extra moments to hyperventilate. Once you get to the 40th floor, the doors open to reveal a young man in a nice fitting suit, carrying a black clipboard. He has a warm smile on his face and he bows as soon as he sees you, "Hello Ms.L/n, welcome to June Company. I'm Namjoon, Mr.Jeon's personal assistant. You bow in return and smile politely, "Hello, Namjoon. You can just call me Y/n." He laughs softly, "Oh, I couldn't possibly." "Please do. Any time people say my last name, it makes me feel like my mother." He leads you down the hall and to the left to, what you assume are, the conference room doors. "Okay, fine. I will concede," He says with a smile. He opens the door for you and you see Mr. and Mrs.Jeon sitting down at the end of the table with their lawyer and yours- but Jungkook is nowhere to be found. Mr. and Mrs.Jeon stand to greet you, a big smiles on their face. "Hello, Y/n, I hope you had a good rest last night." You nod, "I did, thank you...where's Jungkook?" You ask. They exchange a glance, "Uhm yes, he should be here in a few minutes...he said he was having car troubles," Mrs.Jeon said, "But we can just proceed without him for a bit and he can sign it when he gets here." You purse your lips, "Uhm...I hope you don't mind but can we wait for him? I just want to make sure everyone's on the same page." "Well, we don't really need him here for this part-" Your lawyer begins to say, but you turn to him and nod your head, "Even so, I mean...he is the other half of the agreement, right? I'd like to wait." Everyone looks at each other and Mr.Jeon clears his throat, "Of course. Let me call Namjoon so he can get an ETA on him." He says before leaving out of the room.

You all wait for him for an entire hour; they all try to convince you to just let them explain this or that, but you refuse. Suddenly, the doors swing open and Jungkook finally stumbles in. "Jungkook," Mrs.Jeon says, an appalled and embarrassed expression on her face. "Hello everyone, sorry I'm late." Namjoon follows behind him, looking like he'd been running after him. "I-I'm sorry, I tried to stop him at the elevator so I could call you, Mr.Jeon but he...wrestled me to the ground," he says apologetically to the Jeons. Mr.Jeon is completely red, and you can tell he's trying not to explode. Jungkook turns back and sticks his tongue out at Namjoon. "Snitch," He whispers, though everyone can definitely hear him. "Namjoon, would you please bring us all some iced water? And a black coffee for my son." Namjoon nods, "Yes, right away." Jungkook walks in and sits in the empty chair right across from you. Even from over here, you smell that familiar cologne from last night- mixed with the smell of alcohol on his breath. You don't know what possibility is more concerning: him still being drunk from last night, or him getting drunk this morning. "Let's do this," He says, leaning forward onto the table. "Son, I think you better wait for the coffee," Mrs.Jeon says. He rolls his eyes, "I'm literally fine." A few minutes go by and Namjoon finally emerges pushing a small cart into the room. He sets cups down in front of everyone and goes around pouring everyone's water, then he goes back to get two mugs of coffee, one he sets in front of Jungkook and the other he sets in front of you, "Hey, Y/n I wasn't sure how you like your coffee so I just brought some creamers and sugars for you to add. You smile, "Thanks, Namjoon. I appreciate it." What a nice guy. You tear the sugar packet and pour in some of it, bringing it up to your mouth- though as you take your first sip, you catch Jungkook's eyes narrowed at you. You furrow your brows and stare back, unwilling to back down from the impromptu staring contest.

"Well then, I think now that everyone's present, we should begin our meeting," Mr.Jeon's lawyer says. Jungkook finally rips his eyes away from you and turns his attention to the front of the room, "Thank you for waiting for me, everyone. Proceed." "Well, thank you for your permission, son but Y/n is the one who asked for us to wait," Mrs.Jeon adds, irritation in her voice. He glances at you, seemingly embarrassed, though he says nothing. You smirk, leaning back in your chair and turning your attention to the front as well.

Another hour or so goes by and you're finally at the conclusion of the meeting. You've dicussed finances in more detail, along with some other legal matters regarding properties, etc. You're glad your lawyer is there because many times throughout the whole thing, you found yourself spacing out. Blame your messed up sleep schedule. “Alright, Mr.Jeon- are you ready to sign?” The Jeons’ lawyer asks, turning to Jungkook, who seems to be as spaces out as you had been only moments ago. “Jungkook.” Mr.Jeon says, “He’s talking to you.” “Oh!” Jungkook says, blushing a bit, “Sorry. Yes, I’m ready.” He grabs a pen from the center of the table and grabs the contract. He quickly signs the paper, looking up at you when he finishes, sliding the paper over. “Ms.L/n?” The lawyer motions to you to sign. You clear your throat and nod, taking the same pen and signing below him. The lawyer takes the signed document and then puts it into his suitcase, a big smile on his face, “You should be getting a notification from my office as soon as it’s official. Everyone cheers for the both of you, their faces full of joy and relief. You and Jungkook exchange nervous glances. Mr.Jeon brings his phone up to his ear, “Namjoon! Bring the Champaign please- and another coffee.”

Namjoon comes back with a tray of glasses and the Champaign. Everyone grabs a glass and Mr.Jeon pops the bottle open to pour, “Let this be a toast to everyone- the lawyers who helped make this possible, the L/n family for letting us go into this agreement with their lovely daughter, and to the June Empire.” Jungkook’s name is the only one not mentioned in the toast, though it seems that only you notice…and Jungkook. His face falls in the same way it did last night, when you and him had shared your own private toast. “I’d like to say a few words, myself, if that’s alright,” you chime in, catching everyone by surprise. “Of course, of course,” Mr.Jeon says with a smile. You feel a little bit nervous, though you power through it-

“I want to thank you all for welcoming me with open arms into your family. I feel like from the moment I got here, you guys were so warm and loving and I am truly grateful for that. But I also want to thank Jungkook…” Your eyes meet his, and his expression is like that of a lost puppy, “I think you and I find ourselves in a unique situation and…I know we got off on the wrong foot but I really am looking forward to what this road has in store for us and hopefully we won’t totally kill each other along the way.” He gives you a small smile, nodding his head subtly to acknowledge your gesture. “To the couple!” Mr.Jeon exclaims, causing for everyone to cheer.

After a little while, everyone breaks into different conversations- leaving you and Jungkook off to the side. He turns to you, “What was all that mushy stuff earlier?” “Don’t flatter yourself,” You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the way the corners of your mouth turn up ever so slightly. “Y/n, would you like anymore Champaign?” Namjoon asks, carrying the bottle. You shake your head, “No thank you.” He walks away and you notice Jungkook has that same expression he’d had earlier when Namjoon had some with the coffee. “Had you and ‘Joon met before?” He asks, casually leaning back onto the shelf behind him. You furrow your brows, “No, why?” He shrugs, “Oh, just asking…the two of you seem pretty casual, is all.”

You chuckle, “Am I detecting a bit of jealousy, Mr.Jeon?” He scoffs, “Me? Jealous? Ha. Don’t make me laugh. Dude doesn't have two pennies to rub together and rents an apartment with like, five other guys. It's no competition, really." "You know, it isn't always about money." He furrows his brows as though you've just just spit a math equation for him to solve. Oh brother, this guy's something else...

After a little while, the lawyers both leave and Mr. and Mrs.Jeon are packing up their things. "Y/n, we're going to be having dinner tonight at our new restaurant. It's only been open for a month and we want to be able to celebrate this special occasion with you guys. Are you free?" Mrs.Jeon asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes, to which you couldn't say 'no' to even if you wanted, "Of course, Mrs.Jeon. I'll be there." "Wonderful- we'll send the car at 7." "That sounds great." You bow to the both of them and then to Jungkook, "Goodbye, Jungkook. I'll see you later?" He bows in return, "Yes, you will." You walk out of the conference room and make your way down the hall to the elevator. The day is only halfway over, but your body feels so tired- as though all the stress that your mind wouldn't let you feel earlier has just flooded back to you. You need a nap- afterall, you're grabbing dinner with your fiance's family later.

[tala-bez-i]

At first sight II Chapter One

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3116

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No. You weren't hunting Haruchiyo... I mean... Yes, you were trying to follow him, but not to arrest him. You worked in Investigation Department 1, not in 4, and you usually dealt with murders, kidnappings, violent crimes, as well as sexual ones. So, gangs weren't your thing. 

Despite being a member of various gangs in your youth and taking part in their crimes, you were never caught or given a record. 

You frowned. 

No. You were caught once, when you were still in Valhalla. Luckily, you ran into a good friend of your father's, and he let you go. To this day, you haven't been able to find out what Kenzou said, or did that made you manage to get out of the situation completely unscathed, but after that one time, you tried almost everything to avoid getting caught again. 

Some people labeled you an informer, but you've never ratted anyone out in your life. If it were otherwise, you would definitely have continued down that path and joined Department 4. You would have sought revenge on those types, but your mother had raised you well, at least in that regard. Revenge is good when it's deserved, but dedicating your life to just that one aspect is devastating. 

You calmly looked through the material collected in the folder dedicated to Sanzu and slowly, very carefully looked at all the photographs and short videos taken on phone. 

Slowly, one by one, memories appeared in your head, and you knew that you had collected all this material yourself. When had you found the time and opportunity to follow the gangster? You had no idea. Most of them came from various nightclubs and you could clearly see that he was in the company of other Bonten members, such as the Haitani brothers, Kokonoi or Manjiro Sano himself. 

Your heart was beating faster when in some photos and video clips you saw that the pink-haired man's eyes were looking almost at the same spot you were standing at at that moment, as if he had a feeling that he was being watched. However, you couldn't remember anyone ever catching you doing that, which was sometimes hard to believe, especially considering the fact that cellphone cameras had a rather loud sound. 

You looked at the file count marker and asked yourself a question. Were 10,452 files in a password-protected folder about only one person already an obsession? Probably not, because your thoughts were also revolving around different people. 

You looked up when you caught a glimpse of a woman passing by in the open doorway, carrying two small pots of green houseplants in both hands. 

For example, you often thought about Emi. About the woman who held the place in your heart right after Sanzu... 

You blinked a few times. She held the second place... 

You snorted quietly, remembering the last words Sanzu had said to you. 

"If you try to get in my way again, L/n, I'll kill you. If you're not with Mikey, then you're against him. Against me." 

Of course you weren't against him, and you weren't against Mikey either. You were against the darkness that was increasingly taking over the blond gang leader. You didn't join him to get into even bigger shit than Valhalla. 

Why did Takemichi have to leave? 

"Takemichi Hanagaki..." You mumbled, and then memories from twelve years ago hit you. 

“L/n? Y/n L/n? Can I talk to you?” You heard a breathless boy behind you. 

You were just coming back from the store with some groceries that your older sister, Mai, had asked you to do. You turned around and saw a blonde-haired idiot who made a fool of himself often. 

“Hanagaki? What's wrong?” You asked and the boy straightened up, finally getting his breathing under control. 

“I know you're friends with Haruchiyo Sanzu and...” 

“What do you want from him?” You frowned, feeling irritated. 

“No... Not from him...” The boy was confused. “It's just that...” He looked away for a split second and you carefully followed his gaze in the same direction, as if expecting to see someone else there. “L/n, I know you won't give up on him.” 

“Huh?” You looked at the blond again. He surprised you with that. 

“I got that impression from our earlier conversation...” 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Hanagaki? This is our first conversation.” 

“Uh... I mean, I've talked to you before, but that'll be later...” 

“Takemichi...” 

“Do you believe in time travel? You see... Please don't tell anyone about this.” 

“Takemichi...” 

“Please, promise me you'll keep it to yourself.” 

You looked at his face, so determined, that you nodded and swallowed harder. 

“I'm a time-leaper, and I know that because of Haruchiyo Saznu, you'll join Bonten. It won't end well for you...” 

“Takemichi...” You said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

“Yes?” 

“Have you been taking any drugs?” 

The guy blinked in surprise and laughed nervously. “Funny. See, you asked me that question during our conversation in the future.” He turned serious again and you had a strange feeling that the guy wasn’t bluffing at all. “Fulfill your first dream and join the police, L/n.” 

“I’m going to follow Sanzu and Mikey further. You wouldn’t understand.” You started to turn around to continue your walk home, but the boy’s next words made you freeze. 

“Join the police. There will be a series of murders in the future, and you will serve them both better as a criminal investigator.” 

You looked at him more carefully. Being on the side of law and justice, you would actually have more opportunities to protect your friend. In this way, you could protect someone you loved. A similar thought had already appeared in your head once or twice. 

You decided to do so, but you didn't foresee one thing. Sanzu took it as a betrayal and didn't let you elaborate on your thought. He didn't let you explain anything more. It's just that the day you decided to tell him, you got into his terrible mood. You were unlucky, but because of your stubbornness, you decided to continue on your newly chosen path in life. 

You protected him as much as you could, although there was a very high probability that he didn't know about it. You risked not only your career for him, but also your freedom, and he, as was his habit after every drug intake, behaved like a young god and risked more and more. 

"Sweetheart?" You heard a muffled voice of a woman, as if it came from outside, and you closed the folder you were browsing. 

"Yes?" 

"Could you help me, please?" 

You got up from behind your desk and headed in the direction from which, as you thought, you heard the woman's voice. You entered the living room, which was adjacent to the room in which you had set up a small office, and smiled gently. 

Behind the closed window, you saw an embarrassed Emi, who was standing on a small balcony and pointing her finger at the door handle. You opened it and checked the mechanism. 

"Thank you..." She said as she went inside and you laughed shortly, hugging her to you with one hand. 

"I'll try to do something about it soon, and you... My sweet dove, when you go out on the balcony, try to block the door with a chair, because it will slam shut again, and you know that winter is coming." You kissed her on the forehead. "I wouldn't like to come home from work and find an icicle on the balcony." 

"I keep forgetting about it." She grumbled, pointing to the door casually and snuggling closer to you. “What would I do without you, hmm?” 

“What would I do without you, my love.” You kissed her on the cheek. “You saved my life.” 

“Not at all.” 

“Of course you did. If you hadn’t taken me in, my colleagues would have continued to laugh at me... It would have led to depression and who knows how it would have ended.” 

“Y/n. You just dedicated yourself to your work, and the fact that they go to Love Hotels with different girls only says something about them, not you. You’re a decent guy.” 

A decent guy... 

She snuggled closer to you, gently stroking your back with her small hands. 

“You remember that we’re having dinner with my parents tomorrow, right?” 

Damn it... 

“Do we have to?” You groaned, closing the balcony door. “You know they don’t like me.” 

“I don’t understand why. They wanted me to start dating someone from work...” 

“They probably meant some lab technician, not an investigator...” 

“Not true.” She looked at you. 

“Your father thinks I’m a wimp because I often offer to help your mother.” You pursed your lips, feigning offense. “And your mother doesn’t like me because she thinks I think she’s weak because of it.” 

“Not at all.” Emi was slightly outraged. “I already told them that’s how you were raised. To respect women.” 

“I’m a mama’s boy, Emi.” 

“Not at all.” She slapped your ass, completely surprising you and you looked down, straight into her beautiful, bright eyes. Her well-groomed brows were furrowed. “Say that again and you’ll get it again.” 

“You will spank me again?” You said with amusement, smiling mysteriously. 

“Oh, I know you want this.” Her hands slowly slid down your ass and her fingers gently tightened around them. You bit your lower lip gently, feeling the desire awakening inside you and the woman stretched her tempting lips into a mischievous smirk. “You like that, huh? Pervert.” 

“Oh, come on, a pervert.” You mumbled, leaning in to kiss her, but she stopped you by placing a finger on your lips. 

“You won’t get anything until you finish painting the bedroom.” She said with a serious face and you sighed dramatically. 

“I’ve never dealt with a woman as cruel as you, Emi.” 

“Of course you have. It’s just a different kind of cruelty.” 

“Who?” 

“Ko-chan.” 

You closed your eyes for a moment and pulled away, letting your girlfriend get back to her task and nodded. 

Well, yes. Tomoko. She worked in Department 4 and always treated you like a common brat. Her anger towards you deepened after your father died a year ago. She claimed that you were pushing your old man too hard, trying to get more information about Yuji out of him. He was sick and you were poking holes in his stomach with another series of questions. 

You knew you should let it go and let him rest, but you couldn't. You also knew that Tomoko was also aware of the seriousness of the whole situation, but... 

You went back to the bedroom and cleared the two futons off the floor, neatly putting them away in the closet where they belonged. You took out the unnecessary items and opened the can of paint you had started. Time to get back to work. You'd send a report to your superior later and maybe tonight... 

"I knew this would motivate you, lazybones." The woman laughed, peeking into the room. 

You looked at her questioningly, knowing perfectly well what she was talking about, and she shook her head. 

"I won't bother you anymore, honey." 

You went back to painting the walls, feeling a pleasant tingle in the bottom of your spine at the thought of the woman's earlier words. She kept her word, and you knew perfectly well that you weren't the only one who wanted a bit of fun. 

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Silence. 

Stay silent. 

But how to do this? While your sweet girlfriend happily bounced on your hard cock, riding you like a pro. Like your bodies were made for each other? 

You kept your hands on her hips, gently trying to direct her movements to a slightly different angle, but you knew it wasn't time for that yet. Emi knew exactly what she was doing. She always knew better. 

“Fuck…” It slipped out of your mouth before you could bite it and she slapped you on the chest, falling more violently onto your hips, which caused the head of your penis to dig harder into that sweet spot hidden deep inside her soft, hot core. “Emi…” 

“Shhh… Or the neighbors will hear.” 

“Let them hear…” You wanted to say, but you fell silent. 

The woman’s movements became faster and less regular, and you knew that a little longer and she would tighten her walls around your member, which was eagerly awaiting this moment to explode, bringing a wave of pleasure. 

“Y/n...” She whispered through a slightly constricted throat and her body shivered as she tilted her head back with her mouth open. 

You held her hips in place, pressing yours against her ass with all your might, in such a way as to enter her as deeply as possible. The walls of her vagina tightened around you, causing you to ejaculate, which made a blissful emptiness appear in your head. 

The blonde sighed quietly and fell onto your chest, gluing your bodies together for a moment with a layer of sweat. You stroked her trembling thighs and back and kissed her reddened lips. 

“I love you, Emi...” You whispered tenderly into her ear, and she smiled at you gently, looking into your face from under narrowed eyelids. “You burned a lot of calories today, you can eat a donut tomorrow.” 

Her hand smacked your shoulder. “You’re awful, Y/n.” 

She slid off of you and laid down on her futon, which was right next to yours. 

“You’re downright cruel.” 

“Come on, love.” You said, catching her in an embrace and pulling her back to you. You gently stroked her stomach, which was pleasantly soft under your fingers. “You know I love you the way you are.” 

“I’m not your stress ball.” She grumbled quietly, but laughed when you started tickling her. “Awful.” 

You mumbled into her ear, nuzzling your face into her neck and wrapping your arms around her even tighter. Her hands stroked your shoulders tenderly. 

“I love you. I mean it.” You said quietly in a gentle tone. “You are important to me. I will do anything for you.” 

“I know…” She replied just as quietly. “I love you too, Y/n.” 

It wasn’t long before the woman fell into a peaceful sleep. 

You watched her beautiful face, illuminated by the moonlight that crept through the poor quality blinds that were left by the previous owner of the apartment. Her long, thick eyelashes, so similar and completely different from Haruchiyo’s... 

You pursed your lips and looked somewhere into space. 

This time, there was no Emiko Miura or Sanzu in your private life. You broke up with the girl after less than a year, even before you left Toman with Mucho and Sanzu, and she disappeared from your life forever, which meant one thing. Yuuta did not exist. 

He had never been a victim of molestation, there would never be a chance that he would join a gang. His existence was simply completely erased. You had no children, no wife... You had a clean slate and you did not know whether to be happy about it or regret it. 

Sure, you had Emi, with whom you were happy and even thought about proposing to her, because she brought light into your life, but... 

You had once brought up the subject with her several times and she confessed your fears to you. She knew that you wanted to become a father in the future, and she would not be able to give you a child. She was infertile. Irreversibly. You did not try to find out why, because you could see that it was not a pleasant subject for the lesser. 

You always ended these types of conversations by saying that you could always adopt a child or a dog... Because really, there wasn't much difference, was there? She knew you were joking, to break the tension that was building, but there was a glint in her eyes that you didn't like and it made you uneasy. 

You didn't want Emi to leave. You didn't want to be alone again. 

“Too warm…” She mumbled in her sleep and you released her from your embrace, letting her pull away and turn her back to you. 

You looked at the outline of her body for a moment and, restraining yourself from touching your girlfriend again, you turned away from her in the same way and turned your gaze to the window, suddenly feeling a strange emptiness in your soul. 

At least you could pass on at least a little bit of your love to your own niece. Natsuko was Mai's only child, who had come into this world shortly before your sister's divorce. The girl was now eight years old and eagerly awaiting the birth of her little brother. 

Mai had remarried her old crush, with whom she had managed to renew contact at least a year earlier. Although one of your mother's three children had somehow managed to arrange its life and was truly happy. 

You missed the feeling of holding a small child close to your heart. Protecting his delicate head that almost completely fit in both hands. Those soft hairs... You wanted to watch the little one develop and start making mischief for the first time, day after day. How he clenched his little fists around objects, learning about the world... 

You carefully got up from the futon and left the living room, where you and Emi were going to sleep that night, to avoid another potential poisoning from the fumes from the drying paint in the bedroom and went to the bathroom to take a shower. You knew you wouldn't be able to fall asleep anytime soon, so you decided to occupy your thoughts with something else. 

Coming back from the bathroom, you looked into the living room once more and seeing your partner fast asleep, you slid the door shut and went to your small office, where you sat down at your small desk and started your laptop. 

You instinctively opened the folder dedicated to Sanzu and started looking through the photos again. You began to wonder if the man still used that perfume, you liked so much and remembered from when you were both part of Tenjiku. 

A fragrance that drowns in the darkness created by the spring evening... 

You even managed to find and buy one bottle, but you kept it in your desk, away from Emi's eyes. You pulled it out and opened it, gently inhaling the scent of flowers, cedarwood, and sandalwood, and your heart thumped harder, demanding Haruchiyo Sanzu's presence in your life again. 

No. It wasn't an obsession. It was longing. 

<PREVIOUS/NEXT>

[ahedderick]

Recycle

Not to go into too much background detail, quite a few of you already know it, but my family had been cleaning up the Situation at my late father's farm for years, even before he passed away. Our beloved [hmph] county has limited recycling options. In fact, for "chemical waste" there is only ONE DAY every TWO YEARS that you can drop off things you want to get rid of responsibly. Bearing in mind that, in a rural area, just taking a jug of ??whatever?? and dumping it somewhere is 1) wrong but 2) absolutely guaranteed to go unnoticed and unpunished.

We don't want to do that! We want it properly and safely recycled. But what we have, after investigating all eleven buildings on the farm where junk was stashed, is an enormous quantity of jugs, containers, buckets, and decomposing paper bags of. stuff. Old agricultural stuff, mainly, but also machinist/metal-working stuff. Most of it unlabeled, or with labels too old and worn to be read. The large glass jug of concentrated sulfuric acid was an anomaly in that it was clearly labeled in in a proper container (glass wine jug, but hey, glass is glass)

We had quite a lot of this already gathered up in October of 2019 (ha! The good old days! so quaint!). However, that October we were also planning and preparing to be a temporary wedding venue; my brother and SIL were getting married the next weekend and that had to be a priority over recycling.

October 2021 rolled around, but my husband and I were both a little distracted and, honestly, we just forgot about it. There's almost NO advertisement of this event, by the way. We were aggravated, but there was nothing to do but stockpile all that damned chemical waste for another two years.

Yesterday my husband very c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y loaded the bed of his pickup truck with all this . . . mess. Buckets, bottles, plastic, glass, cardboard, bags. It FILLED the 8-foot bed of the pickup. And this morning, early, he very c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y drove off to the county fairgrounds, to turn it all in. It will be quite a large relief to all of us to have this done with.

Damn, Dad. How DID you make SUCH a mess of this farm. How?!!!

[These are old pix from January 2021]

[herejusttosufferalong]

So, just a few things to pick your brain (all speculation of course). You said that you have a theory to why N started out on the tour saying she is more skeptical about love but after Brazil she seemed more open. What is your theory?

Also, you mentioned L & N were beefing in January when he offered the camera as a gift to get on her good side. What was the beef? There's a picture from her b-day with the cast where the definitely do look far apart (metaphorically and physically).

L got the camera for N back when they were still filming S3.

They were a bit off in Jan as all the filming for interviews just came off the NYE kiss. That may have been N's first real exposure to A as something more serious for L. They clearly worked it out and quickly. The jealousy on LN whenever N and LT would interact a little too closely was comically obvious.

Everyone talks about how flirty they were at the VDAY event but can we talk about the Town and Country photoshoot? (Which was done prior to the VDAY event) They were wild that day.

As for N.

Everyone seems to be of the mind that Brazil changed everything but I believe it started in Italy. They were literally surrounded by love. I don't know what exactly started to change her mind but something did. Important to note Italy is where we started to get what everyone labeled as, the "boyfriend" photos. Did something happen in Italy between N and L? I don't personally think so but I do think lines were starting to be pushed. They were becoming more aware of their feelings and it was starting to confuse things.

Fast forward to Brazil where she makes the comment that her views were starting to change on it and she felt less cynical about love. Also love how she tacked on that she had just been having that convo with L a few days prior. Make of that what you will...

Then fast forward just few weeks after that and you have her in the KISS interview saying she loves love.

Does she love love? Or is she in love?