#where i work 28 days is just the beginning

[booasaur]

Something really amazing happened in France, and I think it'd help us in the US to learn about it. Forgive the long read, but I think this is genuinely great both because of what happened and how.

So as some of you might have seen, in a decision historians will debate for years (mostly to figure out just WTF he was thinking, even though he is alive right now and can be asked), the French president, Emmanuel Macron, currently in power and THREE YEARS before the scheduled election, seeing the far right rise in popularity decided to dissolve the assembly and hold snap elections.

577 seats were up for grabs. Remember that number. Since half of that is 288.5, 289 seats are needed for a majority.

The first round happened last week and boy, was it bad. The far right made HUGE gains. It won or was in first place in so many races. And Macron's party ended up third!

Overall, this is how things ended up after the first round:

Far right bloc: 33%

Left bloc: 28%

Macron's centrist party: 20%

Conservatives: 7%

The way the French system works is that if a candidate gets over 50% of the vote, they win outright, and some of the far right did manage that. But, many races went to a runoff.

Immediate projections after were that the far right bloc might win anywhere from 240 to 310 seats, a catastrophe.

A shameful swing to the far right leading to the first time they'll be in power since the 1940s? Yes, but maybe not??

This is where things get interesting.

Unusually, a lot of these runoffs are 3-way, instead of a simpler 2-way choice. And in pretty much every case, that helps the far right.

So on June 30th, the night of the first round, this is how things went down:

Immediately, the left parties put out the call: anywhere they were third, they withdrew and their voters would go over to whoever was running against the far right candidate. Their goal: form a "republican front" to block the far right. The far right cannot get 289 seats.

Macron's bloc was not so...motivated. Different people put out different instructions: in some places, if they were third, they should drop out, but only to help the center left, not far left, in other places, see how far you are, only then drop out, that kind of thing.

The conservative party simply said they won't drop out and won't give their voters instruction either way in races they're not involved in.

Late night developments:

More people in Macron's party are now beginning to realize the situation and starting to coalesce around whichever candidate can beat the far right one. Prime Minister Gabriel Attal, from Macron's party, says clearly the priority is to block the far right. BUT, some Macron spokespeople on TV say they'll form a coalition only with the center left and conservatives, splitting the left bloc if needed. Some individual Macronists still saying they won't drop out, even if there's no hope of winning.

Lol.

So, now July 1st:

Only half so far. In one race, where the sister of Marine Le Pen (the far right leader and the face of their movement) was leading, the third place Macronist refused to bow out.

Excellent quote from another Macronist:

Perhaps realizing the same thing, that Macronist in the race against the Le Pen sister now drops out.

In some places, third place Macronists are dropping out DESPITE Macron bewilderingly telling them NOT to?

Halfway through the day:

Of the 311 3-way or 4-way runoffs, the number is down to 135 because of these candidates dropping out: 121 Left, 56 Macronists, 1 conservative.

Oh, there was this, in case people had any doubts about how terrible the far right are:

And to show the selflessness of the left:

July 2:

The deadline to decide if they want to stay in a runoff is today.

A dozen new third place Macronists who said they'd stay in have now dropped out. One got a call from both the PM Attal AND Macron to drop out, signalling the dawning understanding of the importance of this moment.

Even some conservative party members are now backing the left candidate who faces the far right.

A Macronist who had 30.55% of the vote in the first round and came in third to the far right's 33.11% and left's 32.73% and who would have been tempted to stay has dropped out.

The deadline to stay in or not has now passed.

Look at these far right shenanigans!

Macron still being a freaking loser:

July 3rd:

In the end, of the 311 3- or 4-way run offs, only 91 left. Some polls come out that have the far right getting between 190 to 220 seats.

July 4th:

New polls say the balance of the voting itself isn't transferring between the left and center and predictions have risen for the far right, now predicted to get between 210 and 250 seats.

July 5th:

New polls again, left voters now predicted to do better transferring vote to the centrists, decreasing the far right projections again.

However, scandalous reporting emerges: while Attal was trying to fend off the far right, Macron was not only NOT taking the far right seriously, he was undermining efforts to defeat them. His team shrugged off the first round results and celebrated a BIRTHDAY as the results were still coming in?

July 6th:

A few runoffs happened yesterday, nothing much unexpected, some left and center wins.

July 7th:

The day of reckoning. At this point, the expectations are that the far right won't come close to that 289 number but could still easily have the most seats.

GUYS.

It's over and the left are in the lead!

A LOT of cases where a leftist or centrist was 2nd in the first round and now won.

Amazing:

SO many lessons to take from this.

First, you have to vote! You have to. You can't do anything without voting. The freaking French, who'll protest for anything, are showing up to vote. If you're trying to achieve any kind of result and it's not going to happen by January 2025, you have to vote now.

But just as importantly, the left and center (and even conservative) parties made very key decisions. They were all lucky that Attal, who Macron chose, saw the big picture, bigger than indeed Macron could. A stupid selfish centrist leader could have still ruined everything if it were up to him.

TL;DR: After a disastrous first round in the national French elections where the far right was on the cusp of taking power, the left and center formed a strong coalition and through the power of voting and unity, overcame the far right AND their selfish centrist president to win.

[guxciestone]

🌾 ❛ THE MOON AND YOUR DESIRED ROUTINE ༉‧₊˚ ˚୨୧

(through the signs)

🌳✧

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hey guys. this post is about the moon and the type of routine that you may prefer based on the sign that lands in it. i hope you enjoy the post! ♡🌿

if you have any tarot or astrology post suggestions, i’d be more than willing to consider them. just drop your suggestions in my asks or in my post notes :)

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— the moon and its meaning ꕥ

The moon is the planet of emotions, your internal world, where you find personal comfort, and where you find inner fulfillment. However, others tend to forget that the moon is a feminine and nocturnal planet that also rules patterns, cycles, and flow states. In a female’s chart, it rules over her menstrual cycle, her emotional flow throughout the month, and her inner states throughout the 28-day cycle; in a male’s chart, it rules over his emotional health and character as well as his inner child in a vulnerable and instinctual sense. Furthermore, in general, the moon could also indicate the routines and “personal flow” that one strives for daily to achieve comfort and satisfaction. Today, I am going to analyze what type of routine you prefer based on the sign your moon is placed in.

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moon in aries˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Aries seek spontaneousness, thrills, leadership, and independence in their daily life and routines. They are particularly comfortable being constantly being on the move, hoping to discover a new venture, or taking on a new challenge. They wake up every morning with the intention of reflecting on what new battle they can fight today. Furthermore, they are one of the signs who are more comfortable with managing sporadic and unorganized schedules because they initiate a new project every other day. It is assured they do not get overwhelmed easily, but they could easily become explosive or impulsive in their actions or feelings when stressed or things do not go according to plan. These individuals could get very impatient as well, striving to get things done in a short amount of time; this could be particularly overwhelming for others and burdening for them in the long run. They often struggle to stay focused on a venture due to their hastiness and tendency to lose interest easily. They should learn how to start projects, manage them, and finish them victoriously; plus, learn how to be patient and take their time, so their ideas can successfully manifest in what they expected from the beginning. Additionally, individuals with Moon in Aries are self-interested. They prefer spending time on activities, hobbies, or endeavors that they could benefit or improve from. Not to mention, they are risk-takers. These individuals seek fulfillment from new experiences and circumstances because it gives excitement and stimulation.

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moon in taurus ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Taurus seek comfort, security, and stability in their daily life and routines. They often are satisfied with an unsurprising and easy-going routine–not too sporadic or unpredictable like Aries Moons. They seek calm and quietness in their life with not much stress. It is particularly easier for these individuals to get overwhelmed–especially over an unexpected task added to their schedule. You will often notice that these people strive for financial stability in their personal goals because they know that it will give them the material comfort they hope to have. Furthermore, they are more inclined to do self-care and relaxation practices as it gives them a sense of self-esteem and levelheadness–they especially need it after a long day at work or school. Additionally, Moon in Taurus individuals prefer to take their life in getting their errands done, and they dislike being rushed. They may struggle with changing their routine or daily activities for any person or circumstance because it is what is appropriate for them. They should learn how to modify their schedule for important events and relationships.

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moon in gemini ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Gemini seek learning, socialization, activity, and communication in their daily life and routine. These people are often striving to mentally challenge themselves and find ways to stimulate themselves all the time. That is why you will often find these individuals with chaotic and packed schedules, or they seem to always be occupied–it is because they are always hoping to learn something new, access their creativity and skill, or challenge their brain. They would like to spend their time playing puzzles, word searches, reading, or debating with certain groups. Furthermore, these folks are extremely social and always wanting to connect with their peers; they might seek to find time in the day to meet up with their friends. Additionally, they have the tendency of wanting to do everything they want to do all at once–and they can often get very disorganized and ungrounded while doing so. It is important for people with Moon in Gemini to learn how to take things slow and collect their thoughts and plans before everything turns into a mess.

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moon in cancer ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Cancer seek comfort, security, emotional counsel, and familial connections in their daily life and routine. These people could adore spending time with their family members or their close loved ones immensely; they are the types to consider their cousins or siblings their true friends and desire to do everything with them. They could more than likely desire to spend time at home, and perhaps may prefer to work from home too. Additionally, with a person who has Moon in Cancer– you could find that mostly everything on their daily to-do list consists of errands they need to do surrounding the house (such as doing laundry, cleaning their room, etc.) They might also like taking care of people. It is integral for cancer moons to have a schedule in which they can feel safe and comfortable doing, especially in a sense where it is not far from home or their close connections. However, these people could easily become homesick or struggle to adhere to changes or circumstances far from their safe spot.

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moon in leo ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Leo seek entertainment, creativity, and recognition in their daily life and routines. These people strongly value and prioritize their inner child and their ability to artistically express themselves. They could be particularly interested in the arts, music, performing, acting, or anything in which they can demonstrate themselves and their character in an inspiring way. These folks hope to find fun and excitement in their life through their hobbies and passions. In other words, these people do not function well in routines in which they do not have creative freedom or the time to indulge in their childish endeavors. Furthermore, Leo moons are generous and kind at heart. They are more than likely to be able to handle children for long periods of time; in fact, they could adore implementing kids into their daily routine. Additionally, they prefer to connect with others and spend time with loved ones in circumstances in which they can lead them by example. However, these individuals could instantly turn bratty or spoiled when things do not go their way. If their day seems to be going terrible, it is easy for them to become explosive or stubborn. Leo moons should learn to be more selfless when it comes to compromising their plans and endeavors within the day sometimes.

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moon in virgo ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Virgo seek discipline, order, and practicality in their daily life and routines. They are the type of people to plan their entire day on a to-do list or structure it from start to finish. Furthermore, they value productivity and making good use of themselves and their time. So, you will usually see them working on a particular project, improving themselves in some way, or investing their time into developing a special skill. These folks prefer a system in their day-to-day activities, or otherwise, they’ll feel out of control with themselves. Although these people are particularly able to change their routines and create an entirely new structure, they prefer to keep things predictable–especially when it comes to dedicating themselves to specific future aspirations and ventures. One thing about them is that they will always work on their craft, one way or another. Additionally, virgo moons can also value cleanliness in their physical environment. It is easy for their mood to change if their environment isn’t aligned with their mindset, so they could prioritize cleaning their area and making sure every item is in the right place. However, they often have tendencies of being a control freak–expecting things to go the exact way they planned or trying to handle anything or anyone that disrupts their plans. This placement is also known for its perfectionism. These individuals need to work on their excessive need for things to be 100% flawless; it could easily lead them to stress and low self-esteem, making them believe that everything they do is wrong and that they need to reach up to their extremely high expectations. In other words, virgo moons need to learn how to calm down and accept that things can be imperfect and that they can make mistakes or “fail”.

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moon in libra ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Libra seek peace, balance, and beauty in their daily life and routines. These people often strive for a clear and collected mind space; they hope to eliminate any conflict, confrontations, or issues in their life. They would often try to stabilize themselves through acts of meditation, self-care, socializing, or cleaning. Furthermore, these people often strive to romanticize their lives; it allows them to enjoy their circumstances better through the acts of art, beauty, reflection, and creativity. They adore investing in makeup, fashion, painting, music, and other pleasurable things. Additionally, they are one of the most social moon signs; they thrive when they interact with their interpersonal relationships. It makes them feel connected and close to the important people in their lives. One thing about Libra Moons is that they often try to go far to avoid conflicts, even if it is something they need to confront or take accountability for. This can often make them appear a bit indifferent or distant in times of disagreements and discordance. However, shoving issues into the backburner will not solve anything–they need to learn to confront conflicts and problems and handle them maturely.

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moon in scorpio ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Scorpio seek privacy, intimacy, depth, and intensity in their daily life and routines. First and foremost, these people often prefer to undergo their errands and plans under the radar–they do not feel particularly comfortable with anyone knowing their next move. That is why you’ll often see that these folks do not post often on social media, or they dislike telling people what their plans are for the day. There could be an undertone of paranoia in why they choose not to do so. They just value their intimate space and refuse to let any outside energies intervene with it. So, they need secrecy more than anything. Furthermore, when it comes to activities, they also would like to do them with people who they hold very close–similar to Moon in Cancer–but they are more reserved and strict about it. When they are in a relationship, you’ll find that they would want to spend most of the time with their partner. It can almost get obsessive. It is important for these people to learn to not become obsessive with their loved ones or partners–to let go and learn independence in their quality time.

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moon in sagittarius ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Sagittarius seek excitement, new experiences, and diversity in their daily life and routines. One thing about these folks is that they are always striving to be on the move–similar to their fire counterparts. They are always on the move for the next huge and exhilarating thing. You’ll find that these individuals desire to travel, go to parties, spend time with friends, or meet new people. However, they are also very intelligent and have a will to learn–so they also hope to gain a new perspective from these experiences and circumstances. These people might dedicate a certain time of the day to learning about a topic, investing in a religion, or studying a course. It is integral for these people to have a routine that gives them a new learning experience or something to have faith about; otherwise, these individuals could become hopeless or pessimistic. However, it is easy for these people to become overindulgent or lazy–not being considerate about the consequences or their future. There needs to be a balance between fun and seriousness.

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moon in capricorn ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Capricorn seek achievement, structure, and influence in daily life and routines. Similar to virgo moons, they value being productive and useful with their time—in their case, they hope that their time could lead them to ultimate success and recognition. These people may like to work many hours or put in much time to their career endeavors. This often leaves them little to no quality time for their loved ones and friends. Furthermore, these folks are very patient and precise in their actions as they are able to build things from the ground up and maintain a vision for a long period of time. That is why they are often good planners and can easily build a business or company if they desired to. However, they need to make sure that they do not overwork themselves, isolate themselves from pleasures and socialization, and develop strong control issues; it could easily lead them down the road to stress, burn out, or depression. Additionally, since they are serious individuals, they may struggle with maintaining a balance outlook on the things they need to do and the things they do for the fun of it. They should learn how to maintain balance with work and pleasure—because one without the other could wreak havoc.

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moon in aquarius ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Aquarius seek community, electrifying experiences, and goals in their daily life and routines. These people are always hoping to spend time with their community–people who are similar to them because they make them feel like they belong, and they adore making people feel like they belong as well. However, people tend to forget to give credit for how hardworking these folks are. They might dedicate most of their time in the day to working towards their hopes and dreams. These individuals desire to live a life in which everything is served to justice, equality, and peace–a place they can live in, a life they can adhere to. Therefore, these people are very dedicated to working towards their aspirations for the sake of themselves and the people they care about. Additionally, they strive for unpredictability in their routine. They want something different everyday in their errands–something erratic and thrilling. However, there could be too much unpredictableness to the point of instability in their actions. It is important to find a balance in that too.

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moon in pisces ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Pisces seek imagination, spirituality, creativity, and the unknown in their daily life and routines. These people prefer to stay in their heads and work out the dreams and fantasies that they have in their mind. Even if they are forced to live in the practical world, it is important that pisces moons always operate from the place of visualizing their creative ideas and manifestations. These are the types to invest most of their time into different mediums of spirituality such as meditation, journaling, the occult, manifestation, or connecting to the unknown or spirit world. Furthermore, they would like to invest their energy into artistic hobbies such as photography, painting, drawing, music, fashion, or modeling. However, it is easy for these individuals to get lost in their subconscious and completely neglect their physical circumstances. There could even be instances in which they use vices to escape from the world (such as alcohol, drugs, or if they are in a relationship, a person) There seems to be this need for balance when it comes to the spiritual and the practical–perhaps even setting boundaries because these people are also very compassionate and kind. There could be times in which they feel the need to change their schedule for the sake of the people they care about even if they are not able to.

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[nathaslosthershit]

Tensions Fall (Teen Dad!Oscar AU)

(part 2 to Tensions rise, also apart of this AU although these two fics can be read separately)

A/N: 7 weeks since the once happy couple have actually talked. 7 weeks since they shared a bed, but with their two toddlers starting camp for the first time, maybe they can try and mend their problems.

Warnings: Parental separation, a super mean mom like the ones I have to deal with at work, angst WITH A HAPPY ENDING

May 28, 2024

It had been 7 weeks since the fight in Suzuka that effectively ended Oscar and Honey’s relationship. It had been 7 weeks since Oscar had taken a leave of absence from racing in order to try and make amends with his family. He still trained everyday, he still worked with McLaren and did Sim Racing, he just never attended any of the Grand Prixs. 

It had also been 7 weeks since Honey and Oscar had shared a bed. 

Since that night she left their room, she had stayed in her kids’ hotel room till they got home. She then packed her things and moved into the guest bedroom. Things had been far from amicable between the two parents. In the beginning, Oscar had done all he could to try and make up with Honey but when she continued to give him the cold shoulder, he had given up and reciprocated her attitude. The children, about to turn 4 years old, didn’t know the full extent of what was happening at home. They knew that when they would go to their parents’ room in the morning, only Dad would be there, but this was easily explained away when Honey told them that Oscar snored too loudly and it kept her up at night.

They had of course also noticed how different their parents had acted towards each other, and how often their father was home now, but they just didn’t question it because at the end of the day, they were too young to begin to understand, and they still had two parents who loved them as much as they could.

Since the fight though, it was clear Oscar was making much more of an effort to take his kids out to do activities. At first it was nice, Honey got some time alone, something she rarely got anymore, but the more Oscar took over planning activities, the more she began to hate being alone. After three, almost four, years of being around her kids almost 24/7, the silence started to eat away at her. And in turn, her kids started to miss their mom more. 

Finally though, Honey had put her foot down, after a long conversation, ending in a fight, Oscar had agreed to more full family activities, even if it meant having to pretend with Honey that they were still the happy and perfect family. 

While their kids loved going to the park as a family, any parent around could see that the two parents watching their twins on the bench were fighting but trying so hard to conceal their whispered harsh words behind smiles. 

With the twins' fourth birthday coming up on June 8th, Oscar and Honey had been stressing on how they were going to plan their birthday while they couldn’t get through a conversation without being at each other's throats. They also had the kids’ first day of camp coming up May 29, a day that may seem insignificant to most parents, but as the kids had never been to preschool, nor a daycare, camp was their first introduction into that whole system. It was a big step for everyone.

Honey had been trying to prepare the kids the best she could for their first day at camp. She knew they didn't fully grasp the concept and she was nervous about leaving them alone, scared they would feel abandoned as child-care with non-familial adults wasn’t something they had experienced with their mother being a stay at home mom, only ever enlisting help from grandparents, cousins, and even ‘honorary uncles’ such as Logan and Lando. She had to keep telling herself that in the end, they will at least have each other. 

Oscar and Honey decided to make a day of it. Camp wasn’t until 9, so the pair took the very excited Hudson and Frances out to breakfast where the 3 year olds managed to cover themselves head to toe in maple syrup and chocolate from their pancakes, causing them to have to rush home to change, thus leading the family to a late arrival to the preschool building that the camp was held in. 

“We are so sorry, oh my goodness!” Honey said to one of the two teachers who were clearly waiting for them outside the door to the classroom.

“We decided to take these two to breakfast and they got more food on their clothes than they did in their mouths. Which reminds me, I added two extra changes of clothes to their bag in case they need it.” Oscar added, causing Honey to shoot him a glare that was luckily not seen by the younger of the teachers, as the younger teacher was too busy ogling at Oscar to notice. It was her that added the clothes to their bag, it was also her idea, he was being petty by taking credit.

After a few moments of silence as they waited for the woman’s reply, she managed to snap herself out of whatever daydream she was concocting only minutes after meeting the young father in front of her to reply with a quick, “No problem! We know how these kids can be.”

The older woman next to her clearly could sense her coworker was a little two focused on one of the parents and pointedly urged her to take their bags to their cubbies while she sorted the family out, which Honey was grateful for. She may have not been with Oscar anymore but that lady didn’t know it and had no right to eye fuck him in front of her and her children of all people. 

“Why don’t you all say goodbye out here, we are just about to start morning meeting with the other kids.” The older woman said as she stepped to the side to give the family privacy, thought she was close enough to hear all they would say.

Oscar and Honey both felt tears begin to form as they squatted down in front of their kids. 

“Alright, Mommy and Daddy have to go now, but you both are going to stay here and make some new friends. I know this is new and might be a little scary but if you guys get through today, we can all go get ice cream later. How does that sound?” Honey asked, nervous one of her kids was going to break down in tears at any moment. 

“Okay! Bye Mommy, bye Daddy!” Frances yelled as she ran through the open door to the classroom, clearly ready to get started.

Oscar and Honey weren’t necessarily shocked at what their very clearly extroverted daughter had just done, but they still had expected a little bit of pushback from her. They could see the older woman by the door laughing softly to herself at that interaction. 

Their son, Hudson, was less enthusiastic. He didn’t cry, which they had fully expected him to, but he gave them crushingly tight hugs, or as crushing as he could manage, and a quick kiss on the cheek before following after his sister.

Wiping away tears, they both stood up and laughed once they looked at each other's faces, realizing they were both far more of a mess than their kids.

“Wow, maybe we should have been giving ourselves pep talks for weeks instead of them” Oscar joked. Honey laughed, it was the first normal interaction they had had in what felt like forever. 

The older woman, still by the door, quickly joined in, “Oh don’t worry, we find parents are usually the ones with the most trouble at dropoff, but that moment they find you both after a day of camp or school, you will feel just how much they missed and love you. Plus you two are young, you’ve got plenty of more time to make more of those babies. You have grown yourself a real sweet family by the looks of it. Relax for a few hours! Enjoy the time off, maybe even add to your family.” The woman said, laughing, as she closed the door.

“Did she really just suggest we go make more babies?” Honey asked in disbelief.

“I think she did, yeah.” Oscar answered, just as confused as she was. 

The air felt light as they both walked to their car, relishing in how nice it was that they weren’t arguing, realizing how miserable they had been.

But that didn’t last long. 

“Come on, Oscar, you can’t be that dense! She was so clearly eye fucking you!” Honey argued. The conversation in the car had been light for a few minutes until Honey made a comment about the younger teacher and unintentionally started an argument.

“She was not! And if she was, who cares? We aren’t together anymore, you can’t get jealous over something as trivial as someone who thinks I am attractive. Sometime in the future I will get a partner so you better learn to stop being jealous.” Oscar yelled. He didn’t mean it of course, he knew even if he and Honey never got back together, he would remain single. She was the only one for him.

But what he had said, wording it in a way that made Honey fully think about their situation really tore her apart. Yes, they were separated, but she never felt like they were fully broken up. And from what he said, it sounded like he planned on moving on much faster than she ever would.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she decided to not dignify his comments with a response. Once exiting the car, she swiftly went to the guest room she had been staying in since the separation and slammed the door.

After a few minutes in the car, Oscar had mustered up the courage to apologize, knowing what he did was uncouth. Hearing her cries as he walked up to her door made him stop just short of knocking, deciding maybe it was better to give her a bit of time for now and come up with a way to make it up later.

After two hours of contemplation, Oscar had decided to get a lunch reservation at her favorite restaurant that always had a live band playing. It was impossible to get a day of reservations but with a bit of bribing, he had managed to pull it off. What was also nice about the band was that they could sit and eat silently without any awkward silence. If they were going to fight, they didn’t need to speak. 

She wasn’t crying when he knocked on her door, having managed to seemingly get all her emotions out in the two hours by herself, then clean up to look presentable for pick up. But now she felt empty, like a shell of a person in a house with a man who once loved her to pieces but now seemed to despise her, and no kids because they were away at camp. 

“Come in.” Was all she said.

“I um, I got us a reservation to your favorite place. I understand if you aren’t up for going- or if you’d like to go alone, but I did kind of bribe them so one of us at least has to go, I fear.” Oscar muttered out fast, clearly sensing the awkward energy between them, not knowing whether they were going to ignore the fight or not.

But Honey’s heart burst at the idea of him trying so hard to get into her favorite place. She always urged him to use his name to get into places, like Lando loved to do, but he was always too humble to do it, so it meant even more that he had this time. 

“That… sounds wonderful. Thank you, Oscar.” Was all she said as she started to tear up again but quickly turned so he wouldn’t see. “Let me get my stuff and I can meet you in the car.”

The energy in the car wasn’t light like it was before, but it also wasn’t heavy. A comfortable silence stayed between the two until it got too much for Honey and she burst out into tears, seemingly unprompted. 

“Darling, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Oscar asked, openly concerned for her well being for the first time in what felt like years.

“I c-can’t take it, Oscar! We used to have so much love for each other, god, you used to look at me like I hung the stars in the sky, now you can’t seem to look at me for more than a second without realizing how much you hate me now. Then after saying you are going to move on to someone else- you do this really sweet thing and I am- I am so confused and hurt and don’t know what to think or do!” Honey rambled, everything truly coming to the surface. Everything she thought, everything she felt, everything she had tried too hard to push down and pretend wasn’t there.

“Honey, I have never hated you for even a second,” was all Oscar was able to reply as he registered everything she had just said.

“What?”

“I don’t think I am capable of it. Truly. I have tried so hard to be the best I could be for you after the fight. I stopped racing, I planned more activities with the kids, but I couldn’t do anything right. I let rumors continue about you making me stop racing, which I wanted to stop but was told to leave alone. I took the kids to do activities and left you out too much. When you continued giving me the cold shoulder, I gave up when I should have kept fighting. I then tried to love you less, to make it hurt less, but I couldn’t, even if I acted like a dickhead to you. I am so sorry, Honey, and I would never in a million years be with someone else, even if you had an entire other family and were happily married. You are it for me, always have been, always will be.”

With all finally being said, the two went to lunch happier than they had been in weeks, ready to work on their relationship. It was surely not going to be easy, but how they had been these past two months had broken them enough that they were certainly willing to try. 

Near the end of the meal though, things once again got tense. These two couldn’t catch a break it seemed.

Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren, called Oscsar out of the blue and as the phone rang, Honey’s heart sank, awaiting Oscar’s reaction.

“Shit, I should get thi-” 

“It's okay. I promise.” Honey said, already feeling doubt beginning to creep in.

She couldn’t hear much of the conversation as Oscar quickly walked out the door to talk to Zak. He was also turned away from her so any chances of learning information by reading his facial expressions went out the window.

Finally, he returned to Honey biting her nails waiting for what he would say to her. She already started to panic thinking he could have to go to work, race again, and this vicious cycle would never end, that nothing would ever be right between them.

“What did he want?” She asked.

“Asked when I would be ready to come back to race. I said I didn’t have a date in mind. He told me to come in next week for a meeting on it, but I said I wouldn’t make a decision without talking to my family. I am not going to lose you all over this.” He reassured her. 

Honey smiled, doubt leaving as quickly as it had come. Until she herself got a phone call, this time from the camp her kids were at. Stressing that they had missed pick up, she realized after checking the clock that they still had an hour and a half. Confused once more, she answered the call.

Being told on your kids' first day away from you that there was an issue you needed to go deal with immediately, that you needed to fill out both incident and accident report forms wasn’t something that the young parents had envisioned for themselves. 

Rushing to the classroom, Oscar and Honey saw both of their kids crying in the hallway with the older teacher when they arrived, accompanied by another mother and her upset son. Concern laced their features as they took in both their kids, looking for any hints of injury on the two, but they seemed fine, apart from the crying.

“God, don’t tell me these two kids are the parents, no wonder this happened.” The other mother muttered under her breath. Before Oscar could question her, the older teacher spoke up.

“It seems there was a problem between the kids today.” She began, clearly trying to mediate the situation before it got ugly between the parents. “Mattias here stole a toy Hudson was playing with and pushed him over when he tried to get it back. In turn, Fraces bit the Mattias. It didn’t even leave a mark so I know it wasn’t hard, and both kids got a talking to as well as exchanged apologies, but it seems that they might need to go home early for the day to recuperate. We will certainly work on sharing and using our words tomorrow.”

Both Honey and Oscar were shocked. While Hudson was quiet and they had been worried it would make him a target in the future, and they knew their daughter was fiercely protective of her twin, they didn’t think she would result to biting.

“Wow, alright. You two, let's discuss this in the car, yeah?” Oscar said, ready to leave the place as he felt the wrath of the other parent glaring at him. “Really? You are just going to walk away without so much as an apology to me and my son? Unbelievable.” The mother scoffed. “This is why young people shouldn’t be parents. Clearly you two need to grow up just as much. I pray your already terrible daughter grows out of this and doesn't end up like you, spreading her legs too young and becoming up a teen mom because of it.”

Both Honey and Oscar were stunned. They had faced backlash before, sure, but never to their face, and never from someone so clearly in the wrong.

“Excuse me?” Honey asked.

“Oh, you heard me.” The mother replied.

“No, I don’t think I did, because what it sounded like was you were asking for an apology for something your kid started, because I am sure as hell my kids do not have sharing problems. Then when my three year old daughter retaliates to seeing her sweet and vulnerable brother being so blatantly bullied, even though she apologized, you believe you and your snot nosed brat deserve anything else. Guess what, we don’t owe you shit. And while you are so worried about how our kids will end up, why don’t you worry about your own child, who clearly takes after his bully of a mother. Grow up, asshole.” Honey retaliated. She shouldn’t have sworn in front of the kids but damn was it wonderful to see the look on that lady’s face. 

Oscar had never been more turned on by Honey in his life.

After the fight, the family of four got out of there as soon as they could, stopping for ice cream on the way home. They hardly scolded Frances more than a “If someone does something mean, you can’t bite them, use your words” to which she replied “Like Momma did with that lady?” 

The kids were playing quietly in their room once Oscar got alone time with Honey. 

“That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” He said, arms circling her waist.

“When I went full bitch mode on that lady?” She asked, laughing at the desire so evident in his eyes.

“When you stood up for your family, and cursed that dickhead out.” He replied as he started kissing her neck.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I liked it too but in a different way than you did.” She laughed.

Laying on the bed, cuddling as they basked in the love they still had for each other. Oscar managed to ask the question that had been plaguing him for weeks.

“Honey, will you please move back in here and be with me again? I miss you too much.” Oscar pleaded.

“Fine, but you need to work on another proposal. It is only fair since this all kind of started because of you.”

“Deal, this time I will knock your socks off with my proposal, but first I intend on showing you just how much I missed you.” He said as he began to kiss her deeper and more passionately.

Life was starting to get much better. 

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 12

TITLE: Like Throwing Petrol on a Fire

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Hyunjin can't get either his or your clothes off in time for him to fuck you. Unfortunately, he has to resort to and put up with another method.

TAGS: pre-established relationship, dry humping, swearing, poor Hyunjin can’t help himself (also both reader and Hyunjin are mentioned to be at the club but there is no alcohol involved with this story)

KINK: Dry humping.

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

🩷🩷🩷

-

It was meant to be a good night out for you and Hyunjin, which it was to begin with. You, him, and a group of friends all collectively decided to go clubbing together for the first time in a while. However, later in the night, Hyunjin would find himself in a predicament that he never would've been able to climb his way out of.  

What started off as innocently taking you to the dance floor, turned out to be the worst decision he had ever made. 

Had you not been pressing your ass against his hips for the entirety of the night, Hyunjin wouldn’t be where he is now; sexually frustrated and pissed off because you were teasing him in public. The fact that you knew and felt that he was getting hard, yet continued to grind on him was enough for Hyunjin to take you by the wrist, and pull you with him to the bathroom. 

Sneaky, public, bathroom sex would’ve been ideal for you both at the club – had it not already been full to the brim with other occupants already going at each other. It was either that or go home, and Hyunjin is not one to muck around when he’s horny.

He gets desperate, almost borderline agitated when he’s in the mood because he can’t fuck you.  

Seeing him like that always makes you want to tease him, but you know better. Teasing him means pure punishment for you and Hyunjin has a very creative mind so you always tread carefully around him when he’s in that state. He could deprive you of his body for an entire week or fuck you every day if he wanted. He’s just full of surprises. 

But now and then, Hyunjin becomes so needy that punishments and rewards don’t even cross his mind. That instance just so happened to occur at the club.

Having been so frustrated with not being able to find a decent place to fuck you, the pair of you needed to go home. Alleyways and narrow streets weren’t going to cut it for him, not when there were too many people loitering around. 

So Hyunjin led you back to his car, jumping in and nearly racing off. To make matters worse for him, you decide to test him by palming over his already hard cock. He couldn’t bear the strain he felt against his pants regardless of the small easements of pressure you were giving him as he drove you both back home. 

His head presses back into his chair, trying with every ounce of strength to keep his eyes on the road, “baby, why can’t you wait until we get home?” 

“Because I need you now Jinnie,” you mutter, taking advantage of the state that he’s in. 

Hyunjin does his best to ignore your answer as he turns the last corner onto the street of the house. He eventually slows down and pulls into the driveway to park. As he gets out, he’s thankful that it’s pitch black and everyone in the neighbourhood is asleep, otherwise they would’ve easily seen how hard is. 

“Keys,” you say to him. 

Hyunjin is already on it, barely saying anything as he pulls the house key out of his pocket with a shaky hand and unlocks the front door. The second it’s open, it’s Hyunjin’s game now. 

He pulls you in by the wrist, slamming the door, and backs you right against the entryway table with such force that it dents the wall behind it. There’s no making it to the room, let alone the lounge at this rate.

Hyunjin helps lift you onto the surface of the table, hoisting your legs up just to push and spread them for him to slide in between. Even just feeling the heat in between your thighs is enough to give him some relief, but not the kind that he's craving. 

“I need you…so bad baby,” he groans, pressing his hard, clothed cock into your pussy. 

The friction for you is incredible against your clit, but you do feel for Hyunjin who can’t do much when he’s in formal black slacks. All the while one of Hyunjin’s arms wraps around your lower back so that he can grope the other side of your body while the other hooks around and digs into your thigh.

“Yeah?” You ask, allowing him to continue to fake fuck you while his face is buried in your neck. He can’t even think straight enough to try to take his pants off.

Hyunjin groans, his voice raspy yet hurried, “fuck, I-“

“You know I’m ready for you, so wet for you Jinnie,” you egg him on even further. “Just want you to fuck me.”

His moans are exasperated and breathy, he always sounds beautiful to you when he’s like this, “I can’t – fuck I’m gonna cum…”

You’re not surprised given that you’ve technically been teasing him for the past hour now. So now all you can do is sympathise and let him do what he needs to. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, breathing just as fast as he is. “Just cum for me.”

Hyunjin’s hips stagger out of their pace, continuing to thrust his dick repeatedly until he has to bite down on your shoulder to suppress the loud moans that are straining out of his throat. Not even a few seconds later, Hyunjin is rocked with an orgasm that has him gripping tightly onto your body, nails digging into you.

The pace of his thrusts slows down after his breathing reaches its peak height. Hyunjin has forgotten what it felt like to not cum inside you for once. It reminds him of the time when you first got together and were scared to take each other's virginities so only dry humping really made the cut. It still feels good, but not as nearly as glorious as busting a warm load inside of you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin sighs.

"Feel better?" You ask, carding your hand through the back of his black hair.

He looks down in between your legs, seeing the hairline-like, sticky strings of cum that connect from his clothed dick to your damp underwear. Hyunjin can barely tell if it's from him, or if that's just because you're wet. Maybe it's both. Either way, he finds it hot.

"You drive me crazy you know that?" Hyunjin says to you, leaning back in to snuggle his face into your neck once more. “Now I have to get hard again to fuck you.”

[barrenclan]

sorry if this is spoilers bc we might learn more later. I'm super confused with Rainhaze's thought process. When he was saying its pointless. like. I get not wanting to go back bc he killed his mom. but what did that have to do with Asphodelpaw? Couldnt he just walk away? Did he see her and decide he wanted to be part of Defiance? And this was the tipping point to prove it? I'm super confused. Was it because if she left she'd tell someone? I assume we'll get a better explanation later?

Absolutely! I've actually been waiting for a chance to really dig into this. Like Rainhaze himself, his issue is written with a lot of confusion and uncertainty, and it's not very straight-forwardly, so I understand why his motivations are easy to miss. So here it is!

Firstly; Rainhaze as he existed in BarrenClan and Rainhaze as he is now are two very, very different beasts. Obviously he's still the same person, but he's gone through a mountain of trauma, violence, and was forced to confront the fact that if pressed, he would kill a family member - even his own mother. Sure, in the moment he was threatened into doing it, but it opens the possibility that he'd even do that. Maybe he would've done anything to protect his family then, but it's been a long time.

Then, over many months, he's subjected to propaganda, murder, and terrible treatment. His mental state from where he was when he killed Dustfeather is massively changed. He's depressed, listless, and much more willing to kill. Not only that, but Defiance propaganda has worked on him.

(Issue 24)

With so much constant killing in his life, and being constantly vulnerable, he begins to see death as a good thing. Something that ends suffering, something that doesn't really matter in the end.

(Issue 28)

So now we're at Issue 31. Rainhaze is in a "doldrum", like Ranger says (a period of inactivity or lethargy). He's so torn between his new life and new beliefs, and his old regrets and old connections to BarrenClan, that he's basically attempting to end his own life through inactivity. Ranger doesn't want this. Here's his plan:

Ranger knows that BarrenClan lives opposite the forest, across the prairie. He specifically orders Rainhaze to "kill something", planting that idea in his mind. He's hoping that Rainhaze will find one of his Clan members, and make the decision to kill one of them. This would push Rainhaze over into whatever full breakdown Ranger wants, and solidify his ties to Defiance. And that is what happens. So why did Rainhaze make that decision?

We already have the basis of an incredibly traumatized Rainhaze. He views himself as he is now, and who he used to be, as different people. And he belives that's completely beyond redemption.

Yes, all those months ago he promised he was suffering in Defiance for his family and Clan, but it's really hard to hold onto those noble morals when you're being put through hell every day. Rainhaze hasn't even seen his family in months. They don't seem real to him anymore.

Then he is finally confronted by Asphodelpaw, the symbol of everything he's put himself through torture to protect, and all he wants to do is go back to Defiance. And here we go, getting to these lines;

Rainhaze is a coward.

He's separated from Deepdark and Ranger, by at least several days. He could absolutely come home with Asphodelpaw and warn all of BarrenClan - they could evacuate in time, be far away by the time Defiance arrives on their territory. But then he'd have to face his family, face his sister whose mother he violently murdered. Have to stand there and have them look at him and know him and see the scars on his body.

When he says, "this is vile, pointless, irredeemable, monstrous", he understands that killing Asphodelpaw is a disgustingly cruel action. He knows that. He understands that he's choosing Defiance over her, and over them. But that's the choice he feels he needs to make to protect himself. He's not thinking about his family any more.

So he does something so completely vicious and irredeemable that he is forced to choose Defiance. Because there's no way that any BarrenClan cat would forgive him for this. There's no way he would forgive himself for this.

And thus, Rainhaze figures himself out, and burns every other bridge entirely. He makes his choice.

[thecapricunt1616]

Chicory (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers. 

♡ Chapter Inspo: Chicory is perfect for love spells, & sex magick, it is also a natural aphrodisiac - this being because it is a great source of the androgen hormone androstenedione. ♡ Summary: You wake up to find Carmy's dirty little book he's been hiding from you, and convince him you want to try some things out from it, too. ♡ W/C: 3.5K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/28/2024 ♡ A/N: Hellooooo!!! Happy day 3/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24)! We're getting todays party started early because I am physically incapable of sleep today I guess!! Lol anywhore - This O/S is based on ♡ This ♡ request, from my Darling Dirty Olive Martini otherwise known as the goddess herself @carmenberzattosgf ! Give her a follow NEOWW!!! I hope you love my dear Martini baby! Your other request is still in the works xoxoxo ♡ Warnings for BTC: Smutty smut smut, embarrassed Carmy, unprotected sex, AFAB!Fem!Reader, Reader not described pic's are purely for vibes only, swearing, and typical TB trigger warnings

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Carmy had been dating for about 2 months, and it was an extraordinary two months. While he wasn’t the best at communication, he tried, and he tried very hard. He was an amazing learner, and would pick up what you put down the second he realized he made a mistake - do his best to fix it, and not make the same mistake again. In regards to the bedroom, your pleasure came first, it was like that from the beginning. It wasn’t something either of you discussed, it was more that Carmy was the one who did the leading most the time, and you followed & told him what did and didn’t feel good. 

Most of the time, he was dead set on solely your pleasure. You could remember the amount of times you’d had penetrative sex with him, as much as you hated that you kept track, it was just in your nature to do so. He hadn’t let you go down on him yet,saying that he was ‘all good by eating you out’. On top of your lack of experience together - he also liked to have the lights off most of the time. You were much more sex forward than he was, so you just chalked it up to being shy, and didn’t think anything of it.

That was until he was sleeping one night next to you, falling asleep after eating you out for a straight 2 hours, you couldn't even remember the exact number of times he made you cum. You also weren’t sure how his jaw didn’t lock up. 

The reason you had woken up at such an hour, was because your hand brushed something hard and papery under his pillow when you stuck your hand under it in search of his to hold. You carefully pulled the foreign book out, and in the dim moonlight that peeked through his navy blue blackout curtains, you read ‘BDSM Kinktionary - The ultimate guide’ and oh - had that thing been read. The spine had been very broken in, it was clear this specific book of his was well loved. 

You flick through it, to see that there were multiple pages that had been dog-eared for later use. You got up quietly as to not disturb him, padding out to the kitchen where he kept the light under his microwave on. Leaning over the counter and flicking through the pages, finding the first one that had been dogeared and reading it. 

Bondage - The restraint of a person, either by physical item (cuffs, rope, etc.) or instruction (known as mental bondage). Restraint can be full-body (vacuum beds, suspension) or involve a single body part such as the eyes (blindfold), mouth (ball gag), wrists or even thumbs. Bondage may include furniture like sex swings and devices like handcuffs. 

It had various photos of different things mentioned and you raised your brows. “Carmy have you been holding out on me?” you whispered to yourself, a small smile on your face as you flicked to the next page that had been marked by a fold and read ;

Cockwarming / Soaking - Where one person puts their cock into their partner’s mouth, ass, or vagina (if they have one), and leaves it there for a set amount of time to, well, ‘keep warm’. Some people use it as a punishment, some people just like the feeling of it, some use it as a more intimate & sexual form of spooning/cuddling, and some use it as a method of trying to conceive after a creampie (see pg. 32).

You see a little star next to the definition made with red ink likely from a pen, and the word ‘creampie’ was underlined as well. Your mouth dropping slightly - this is likely what he wants to try. When you and Carmy did have sex, he would usually cum on your stomach, long thick white ropes of seed painting all the way up to your ribs, dragging his fingers through it before putting it to your lips to which you gratefully accepted and licked them clean. You tightened your thighs a bit at the thought. 

The bedroom door popped open quietly “Babe?” Carmy said, voice gravelly and deep with sleep. You jump in surprise, nearly hitting your head on the side of the microwave as you were bent over trying to read without your glasses in such dim light. “Wha’s up-” he asked padding over. He saw the cover on the counter behind you, eyes widening and eyes flicking back to you. His cheeks go pink “Uhh.. how- how did you - shit - fuck - m-m’sorry babe it was- I-” he ran a nervous hand through his hair taking a big nervous breath.

“Cockwarming?” you said and he rubbed over his mouth and chin nervously 

“It’s - i-it’s- y’don’t have t’do any a’that babe it was just a um-”

“A fantasy?” you cut him off. He bit his bottom lip roughly, swallowing thickly. His whole face and neck were red with embarrassment, he looked honestly like he could cry. Like a teen who’s porno-mags had been discovered. “I think it sounds…really hot” you grabbed the book off the counter. “I know you don’t really like getting head so-”

“S’not that I don’t like it. I just…I haven’t done it alot an’I don’t wanna embarrass myself n’stuff.” he rubbed his arm nervously and you stepped a bit closer, gently resting your hand on his chest right over his heart. You could feel it thumping against your palm like a monarch trapped in a plastic cup. 

“You can’t embarrass yourself with me Carmy, we talked about it. The way our bodies react to things- how fast they react, it’s not something we can choose. I’d never judge you, is that why you didn’t wanna tell me the stuff you want to try? Cause you thought I’d think it was embarrassing?” you asked him softly.

He looked at the floor, shutting his eyes and sighing “yes” he admitted quietly, “how much did you see?” he asked nervously

“Enough, I didn’t even know that was like a thing? But it sounds hot- can we try? I mean..we dont have to- but I could go right now, if you want to” you asked. He held his hand on yours, gently squeezing it. 

“I’ve never done it-”

“So we can learn together then, right? Things are most fun that way, anyways. I love doing new things with you, Carmy. It makes me feel close to you” you admitted. 

He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck and holding you close. “Thank you” he muttered into your skin, the tip of his nose chilly since you two had fallen asleep with the window open last night.

“F’what baby?” you asked, rubbing over his back, your finger pads gently brushing over the little moles adorning his skin like tiny constellations you traced over in early mornings just after his alarm went off and he was still rousing for the day.

“Bein’ you” he said and kissed the fleshy bit where your shoulder met your neck and a smile graced your lips, gently petting his hair “I wanna try if you wanna try…I mean really wanna try, not just ‘cause I wanna do it, cause you actually want to” he said. 

You pulled away, tilting his head to look at you “I want to.” you said, your voice honeyed with honesty and desire. 

He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers. 

You opened your mouth for him, gently sucking on his tongue when he slipped it in your mouth since you know how much you both liked it and he moaned softly, gripping your ass tighter and pulling at the skin. You smirked into the kiss, pulling off after a few moments with a pop 

“Want y’to touch me” you said sweetly, gently kissing the corner of his slightly parted lips, his breath coming out in soft warm pants against your cheek. 

“Mm” he hummed softly reaching one of his hands under you, gently rubbing at your clit “y’sore?” he asked softly “I wasn’t too rough earlier was I?” he questioned as you kissed down his jaw, and over the hickeys, you’d left a few days ago on his neck. He wasn’t too stressed about them because he would just tell anyone at work to fuck off and there wasn’t going to be another friends and family night for a few weeks. 

“No love, m’okay, that was so nice earlier. Made me feel sooo good, Are you ok?” you gently stroke his jaw with your hand and he smiles a bit 

“Yes babe, m’fine. Feel good?” he asked and rubbed a bit firmer, in response your hips jerked a bit in his hands and a little breathy oh escaped your throat

“Yes jus’ like that babe feels so good, I love your pretty strong hands” you lovingly kiss his temple, resting your forehead on his “I fuckin’ love it when you touch me like that, bear” you said and his cock twitches in his boxers beneath you, already hard in briefs. It never took him much, but especially when you used his name. 

That name, his nickname. The name only the closest people in his life called him, the name that coming from you - made him feel confident, strong, dominant. “Can’t fuckin’ focus when y’bein so sweet baby c’mere” he pulls his lips to yours again, pushing your panties to the side, breaking the kiss of course to ask “thas’ok right?” carefully rubbing his fingers through your slick 

“Mmhmm, Course sweet boy - Feel how wet I am? All f’you baby. Y’so sexy, and so brave for telling me what you want from me, hmm? My brave Bear” you gently play with his curls, combing through them with your fingers. He kissed you again, cock grinding up against your pelvis unintentionally. You knew how much praise turned him on, he yearned for it. He carefully pulled back your hood, brushing the rough pad his middle finger over the sensitive bud. 

You whine into his mouth, hips jerking at the sudden, intense bolt of pleasure and in retaliation you took his bottom lip between your teeth and pull gently. Your eyes then fluttered open to see his hooded blue eyes darkened with need, long eyelashes fluttering his cheeks when he blinked. 

You sucked his lip between yours, sucking gently on it as he carefully trailed his hand down your slick folds, spreading your nether lips with his fingers a sticky click being heard when that same torturous middle finger that was teasing your innocent clit a few moments prior, breached your dripping entrance. Your mouth falls open, letting his lip snap back into place and a moan tumbles from your own lips. 

“Yes- fuck yes baby” you sat back a bit to take another knuckle in and he buried his finger to the palm, curling it and uncurling it around your gummy walls, a lewd wet schlick noise coming from your pussy as he did so 

“Sound so pretty” he breathed arching his finger a bit deeper and brushing against that lovely spongey little spot that made your clit pulse and fire grow in the pit of your belly. “Want another princess?” He asked, and unable to speak, you nodded, jaw dropped. You grind down onto his hand once he added his ring finger, rolling your hips so you were essentially riding his hand as he continued rolling his fingers and pressing on that spot. 

You were feeling that heat shooting to your core, your juices leaking down his palm, and wrist, droplets racing down his veiny forearm to nestle in the crook of his elbow. “Oh- oh-fffffuuuck” you whined out, rolling your hips quicker as you chased your high. “Mm so sweet - y’so sweet Carmy- letting me use your hand like this, thank you” you give him a hot, wet kiss, lingering for a moment. 

“Lemme help you mm?” He pushed your back to lay over him fully, cheek pressed to his chest “I like takin’ care’a’my girl” he said and quickly matched your pace with his fingers, continuing to curl them into that spot with every thrust in to his palm. He groaned softly at the short high pitched little whimpers you made as you went slack over his chest, your hips twitching as your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers, sucking them back in each time he pulled out. 

“Feels so good- sososo good” you rambled, nearly drooling on his chest you were so far away in your orgasm. 

“Y’always do so good princess, always so good, can y’give me one more? Ye’? Then you can fall asleep on m’cock mm? You’d like that I bet, you always whine when I pull outta you” he said hotly in your ear, voice thick with lust and pure need. This was the game you two played, he would fuck you absolutely dumb, so that he got comfortable enough to talk dirty thinking you wouldn’t remember what he said or that you were too caught up in your own nearly atomic orgasms he was determined to lure out of you to be able to hear him properly. 

“Need it- need it- want you-“ you choke on your words, hips arching into his touch as he continued his assault on your gspot, this time adding his forefinger. “There- there right fuckin there I’m- I’m gonna make a mess shit fuck-“ you sob out, thighs nearly shaking with pleasure. “Carmy Carmy- Carmy- oh!” His name fell from your lips like an invocation. 

“Thas it pretty girl. Fuck- so fuckin hot- make a fuckin mess all over me angel.” He massaged that spot with his fingers, the heel of his palm giving delicious friction to your clit that was causing your brain and your mouth to disconnect, the string of lewd swears and filthy moans going unheard by you as you were pretty sure your vision went white behind your shut lids and your legs went fully numb for a moment. 

You came back a few minutes later to him whispering praise into your hairline, littering little kisses over it and gently brushing your wet sweaty hair from your forehead. “So so good baby. Always so good f’me huh? Y’gonna let me take care’a’you now?” 

You picked your cheek up from his chest, your skin sticking to his and pulling away like scotch tape, slow since you weren’t in a rush to move being so exhausted and very comfortable where you were. “Hey you, gonna lemme clean you up so we can try this thing out?” He carefully brushed your baby hairs from your face that were wild and curly with sweat from the encounter. 

In response you hum softly, in agreement, throat feeling dry as you sat up to let him move. He carefully reached over you, opening his night drawer and grabbing the feminine wipes he kept in there for you, as well as grabbing your water bottle from the tabletop.

He holds the straw to your lips “big sip f’me, ye’?” He cradled the back of your head gently. You leaned in, taking the sip he requested, and as soon as the icy water he assured your cup stayed filled with passed your lips one sip turned in to a few big gulps, eyes shutting in bliss. “Goood girl.” He praised gently. Hearing the bubbles at the bottom a few moments later, meaning you’d hit ice and it was empty so you pulled away, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips

“Thanks” you said softly and pecked his shoulder with your chilly ice water lips gently. 

“You go do what you gotta do, I’m gonna fill this up mm?” He kissed your head and got up, heading to the kitchen. You went to the restroom, making sure to wash your hands which you know he did as well since you heard the kitchen sink while you were sitting on the toilet rubbing your tired face. 

By the time you got back, he was already switching out the fitted sheet for a clean dry one, in clean boxers - his problem still evident, standing tall and tugging at the fitted fabric. “Carm” you said softly and he looked up at you 

“Hey baby- y‘waters there got you a granola bar if you want it too. Wasn’t sure if y’just wanted to go to sleep but i'd love if you had a bite or two- 

” he goes on. The only time you had a hard time getting him to stop talking was when he felt as if you needed taking care of, turning into the male version of his sister, as you’d quickly found out how she treated him the few times you’d met her. 

“Carmy” you said again, stopping his rambling. “What about the book- the cockwarming thing? Did you…you don’t wanna do that with me anymore?” You slipped out of your now wet panties and flicked them into the laundry basket. 

“Oh- oh-“ he watched them fly and land on your shared pile of dirty clothes from the week of you sleeping over. “Uh- no- I-I mean yes yes I wanna do it with you, I can um…let me get a condom just in case I like- accidentally-“ you stopped him once more

“If you came inside me on accident I think that would be really hot.” 

He stopped digging through the drawer and looked over at you, cheeks flush. “Did you…take your thing?” He asked, like it was a secret. You laughed a bit at his boyish awkwardness regarding woman’s products. 

“I don’t take a thing the thing meaning my implant is in my arm. I’m never at risk with it for pregnancy, well - shouldn’t be - but it’s like a 98% thing…I also am pretty irregular? So I dunno” you shrugged a bit “but irregular means I probably won’t be pregnant, especially on birth control, so.” You explained. 

“Okay- um- yeah. Yeah.” He said, pulsepoint visible in his neck from how hard his heart was pumping in anticipation for what was to come next. “So- alright. You- you wanna be on top? I- I don’t wanna like..crush you” he said and you nod excitedly 

“I love sleeping on you! I’m gonna fall asleep, is that ok?” You asked as he slipped his boxers off, cock kissing his naval in greeting as it springs up from its previous restraints. The tip was so pretty and cherry pink, glistening with precum at the tip. Every time you saw it like this you just wanted to fall to your knees and take as much of the beautiful thick length down your throat as you could - but that was a line to still not be crossed by you two. 

“Ye’ s’fine baby. As long as y’re ok w’me wakin’ up hard as fuck I’m probably gonna dream about fuckin you feelin you like that all night” he admits, laying in the middle since you were sleeping together and getting comfortable for you. You crawled on the bed and took his shirt that you’d been wearing fully off so you could be chest to chest, and drape over him like earlier. 

This time, he spread you out with his hands, one on each cheek and guided your hips so his tip was nestled snugly against your entrance. “I’m okay as long as you’re okay” you said truthfully and sunk back on his throbbing cock. He grunted a bit, biting his lip and shutting his eyes for a moment. You knew he did that now when he didn’t want to cum too quickly, just from being with him a few times, you picked up on stuff like that just like he did. 

“Y’so fuckin tight” he breathed once he was able to relax again, wrapping his strong arms around your back and you thought he was going to push you down, seat you fully on his cock - but, no he…he’s hugging you. He’s continuing to let you sink down as slow as you want. When you finally were seated to the hilt, he places a chaste kiss to your jaw. “Thank you.” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lashes kissing and tickling your cheek as his eyes flutter shut. 

“Thank you Bear. Always treat me so nice” you continued gently playing with his curls as his hands gently rubbed over your upper back, tracing the curvature of your shoulders with his fingers. 

“Oh I’d say it’s the other way around princess, you always make sure I get what I want - y’too good” 

To that, you just smiled, falling asleep a tiny smirk on your face - knowing it was the other way around, you knew he’d never agree. 

But you both wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dev-solovey]

Reading up on the history of American Idiot (album) and realizing exactly how revolutionary it was and I just have to yell about it for a hot second

So, before they started working on American Idiot, the band was having problems and they were thinking they were going to break up. But for a couple of reasons, they switched directions, most notably because they all felt strongly about the Iraq War and how it was manufactured by greed and warmongering from the Bush administration, which was amplified by the news media. I read a quote from Billie Joe Armstrong where he talked about how the news media was becoming "more of a reality show" than it was news, and he couldn't have been more right. In fact, that problem got worse, and now we're living in an era of rampant misinformation where everything is politicized to a point where just supporting human rights for marginalized people is considered controversial. The song American Idiot came out in 2004, and when Donald Trump first visited the UK at the beginning of his presidency, it was the top played song on every UK radio station, 12 years after it was released. Most things would be culturally irrelevant at that point.

When creating the album American Idiot, a lot of thought went into it - they had a very specific message in mind, and their goal was to send that message to youth. This is because they realized at some point that their fanbase was a bunch of teenagers, and even though they hadn't necessarily intended it that way, they suddenly had a platform with the youth of America and they decided they ought to do something good with it. The drummer, Tré Cool, said something along the lines of "I've never really liked the idea of preaching to kids, but I realized we don't really have a choice at this point." And I love that so much because like, so many people who get rich and famous just become completely out of touch, and when they get a platform, it's very easy to exploit that platform, influence them with terrible ideas, or encourage them to act in terrible ways for self-serving reasons (ex: JK Rowling, Andrew Tate, Dream, Logan Paul, Onision, etc etc). Green Day refused to allow themselves to get to that point. They know the platform they had gave them power and they made an active choice early on to be responsible with it. And a lot of that moral code comes from the fact that they came up in the DIY punk scene in Oakland, which held its members to a very high standard of ethics, a code that they still follow even after they were disowned by that scene when they signed on with a major record label in 1994.

The song American Idiot has a message of "this mass media hysteria is manufactured bullshit, don't fall for it," and it is not subtle about that message. It punches you right in the face. I remember being 12 years old and listening to it and thinking, "yeah, I don't want to be an American idiot." And now, at the age of 28, I am a staunch leftist who is firmly against the atrocities the US government commits, and I feel strongly about stopping misinformation. So I can say with absolute certainty that they succeeded.

I also get like, really upset when people say that American Idiot is the album where they sold out, because that's objectively not true, both for the reasons I've provided above, and also because of the song Wake Me Up When September Ends. Not a lot of people know the story behind this song, but it's actually a song that Billie Joe wrote about the experience of his dad dying of cancer when he was 10 years old. The story, as he tells it, is that when he came home from school, his mom gave him the news, and being (understandably!) upset, started crying, ran to his room and slammed the door. When she knocked on the door to try and talk to him, he shouted "wake me up when September ends!!" in response. It took him decades to be able to write this song, and it shows because it's the perfect grief song, having been played at benefits for 9/11, hurricane Katrina, and so on. The first time I heard that song it reduced me to tears, because you can hear the intense sadness in it. A "sellout" would never write a song like that!! (Side note: maybe stop tweeting at Green Day to wake up every October 1st, it's super tone deaf given the subject matter,,,)

Anyway, I think I'm done being autistic about Green Day (that's a lie, they'll forever be my special interest), so TL;DR:

Thank you, Green Day, for creating a generation of leftists who aren't about the bullshit

[bill-dip-week]

Welcome to BillDip Week 2024!

BillDip Week is an event to spread love of Bill Cipher and Dipper Pines as a ship through various types of fanwork! The event will run from November 24th to November 30th this year!

This event is open to all ages, though NSFW works are allowed as long as they're censored, linked off site, or warned for appropriately. Current rules on Tumblr dictate we can't have sexual nudity anyways, so this should be an easy rule to follow, and Ao3 is fair game. There will be an Ao3 Collection made before the week begins so fanfiction can all be in one place!

This years prompts:

November 24: We'll Meet Again

November 25: Magic and Monsters

November 26: Secrets

November 27: Make it WEIRD

November 28: Another Time, Another Place

November 29: Moonlight

November 30: Free Day

Prompts are suggestions that have no strict meaning or guide, feel free to interpret them however you want in any sort of fanwork you feel like creating! You aren't limited to just Fanart or Fanfic! You can make a playlist, an aesthetic board, write a poem, make a video edit or animatic, make a GIF set - go ham!

Also, I don't have any other real rules or restrictions. Go where your heart takes you, go where these two take you. You don't even need to follow the prompts if they don't appeal to you! All that matters is you have fun and make something involving Bill and Dipper ♥

[schrodinger-swriter]

Prompts 22, 23, and 28 for Lucifer Morningstar please!

Prompts 22, 23, and 28 with Lucifer

I am feeling a little better, compared to earlier. I had plans on baking a banana cake earlier, so if I keep this little recovery up I may resume those plans!

I hope you enjoy, Anon! C:

MOVING IN TOGETHER

You don't have to worry about carrying your things in, with just a snap of his fingers he can put everything into place... Just tell him where to put everything! He already has a guest room waiting for you, until you're both ready to sleep in the same bed. Things are going to be taken... very slow. I hope you don't mind, he just... needs to get used to this all over again. What with having a relationship now as well as not living alone anymore. In the beginning he tries to keep the house spick and span, though it's mostly because he doesn't want to make a bad impression. It happens slowly, but over the course of weeks it gets a little messy due to the man not having the mental or physical energy to keep it tidy... mental illness, you know? He doesn't mean it to get that bad, and he will feel a little guilty if you step in and fix things. It does push him to seek help or at least a better coping mechanism, so at least he's taking a step towards healing... Sometimes he keeps himself in his work room making... lord knows what. Likely ducks.

BEACH EPISODE

Hubba Hubba he's going to be respectfully staring the second you step out in your swimwear. He will shoot daggers at anyone who tries to gawk at you as well... though I can easily see him putting you up on a pedestal, "yeah! That's my partner and they're smoking hot!".. not those exact words, but... you know..! He burns so so easily, you'd think being an angel would make him exempt from that but he just... doesn't tan. He offers to give you shade under his wings... he is going to regret that when he eventually gets sand into his feathers. You both spend the day in the sun! Lucifer doesn't really get into the water other than a quick dip every now and then to cool himself down... he probably makes a grand sand castle! If you help him he's going to want to marry you on the spot. Supporting his creativity is one of the quickest ways to butter him up.

FIRST DATE

He is... an absolute mess on your first date. He's a romantic so he's going to rely on those to keep things moving along, but it's just been so long since he's been in the dating scene! Also taking into consideration that Lilith may possibly be his first or only serious relationship, at least she's the only one that we are aware of... Even worse for him if you are his first date after the separation. He wants you to have a good time, he really does, but his nerves are just eating him from the inside out. Likely for a first date you two go out to eat, something simple and classic while allowing you two to get to know each other. He's polite, and on his best behavior. He may forget some of the topics and what was brought up, but that's really due to his nerves... Definitely the type to give you flowers on the first date.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 28

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

This may be the last chapter for a few days as we’re approaching the end of the story rapidly and I haven’t finished editing it yet lol. I apologize for leaving it off with a cliffhanger but I want to make sure the end is perfect before posting it. Life’s been busy this week so I haven’t had the time to finish it the way I want to.

Content Warnings - Injury, death, medical issues, I promise Finnick isn’t being stupid this time lol

The next week was full of recovery. You slowly regained your strength and were able to try solid foods again. The doctors polished all your scars off, including the one on your face from your games, at your request. You wanted nothing left to remind you of them.

You started physical therapy, as well as regular sessions with Dr. Aurelius. He allowed Finnick to join you, realizing you felt more comfortable with him nearby. You still had to use a walker to get around, but you were making progress.

A few weeks after the war ended, Coin called all the victors into a meeting. There were barely any left, mostly due to the war.

“I’ve called you all here for a very symbolic vote,” she states. You don’t like where this is going.

She proceeds to pitch her idea for a hunger games featuring capital children. There are mixed reactions from the remaining victors, with some believing the idea to be fair and others believing it to be cruel. Votes are cast around the room and it finally comes down to Katniss.

“I get to kill Snow,” she tells Coin, who agrees to this proposition.

“Then I vote yes,” she states. “For Prim.”

You can’t even process what this means. Another games? Was Coin out of her mind? You finally realized what you had been denying all along, as long as Coin was in charge, you would never be free.

Finnick brings you back to your shared room after the meeting. You allow his touch but still flinch away at everyone else. Dr. Aurelius had been working with you on that but it’s hard to undo the trauma of many years.

“I just want to go home,” you tell him.

“You have to stay here for a bit,” he explains. “District 4 doesn’t have the resources for your treatment. Once you are better I promise you can go back to 4.”

“What about you?” you ask him. “Are you staying?”

He hesitantly shakes his head.

“I have to go to 4 for a few weeks but I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he states. “Johanna will be here with you in the meantime and I’ll call every day.”

“You’re leaving?” you ask, dumbfounded by his response.

“I promise it’s for a good reason,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t important.”

“When do you leave?” you ask.

“In two weeks,” he responds. “I’ll be here for the first bit of your treatment and return before it’s over. Then we will both go back to 4 together. Do you trust me?”

“Always”

That afternoon Finnick helps you walk out onto the avenue to stand next to the other victors. Snow was finally falling, and you were both alive to witness it.

Standing in front of all the capital people made you uneasy. What did they think of you? Were they going to hurt you?

You’re lost in your thoughts when suddenly the crowd erupts into chaos. You look up to see Coin lying dead on the podium, an arrow in her heart. A mob of people begins rushing towards Snow, eager to kill him.

Finnick quickly scoops you up and carries you away from the commotion. When he finally sets you down, you ask what happened.

“Katniss killed Coin,” he states. “Snow is dead.”

He has to take you back to your room before you have a breakdown. What evil creature was going to seize power of Panem next? All of this was too much.

You end up collapsing on the floor of your room, shaking uncontrollably.

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @lvsticm @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @finnysmusic @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @isasalom @yizhoutv @livingdead-reilly @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @faephoria @omwtkydttfym @iris1587 @sarcasm-and-stiles @10ava01 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @littleanubis21 @scorpiolystoned

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

[mistress-violence]

Prompt: Museum from @into-the-jeggyverse (August 28)

Word count: 676 words

Pairing: Jegulus (modern AU)

⚠️ Warnings: none

Regulus is the kind of person who has loved art since he was a child. James has caught on to it in the six months since they've been dating. He spent countless group outings listening to Regulus discuss aesthetics with Evan and Barty. Among his stuff in his room, he always found art history books and art magazines. Sirius once gave him a leather notebook with some famous painting on it (he heard some sort of Moan It, but he wasn’t sure).

James wants to understand this part of Regulus, but he always found art boring. When his parents took him on trips as a kid, James hated museums. They just looked like a bunch of old drawings with old people. He strode through them and dragged Euphemia and Fleamont by the hand until they left the dusty building and went to the park for ice cream. College did not draw James closer to intellectual pursuits. He still prefers to compete with Sirius, who can eat more hot dogs in a minute than stare at the "Mona Lisa.".

The closer the relationship between him and Regulus becomes, however, the more doubts he begins to have. Regulus is not only exceptionally beautiful and charming; he is also intelligent, refined, and elegant in every gesture. James is scared that Regulus will never take him seriously as a potential partner when he will finally see that James is not as smart as him.

Because of this, James invited Regulus on a date at the art museum. He is determined to impress his lover and show him that he too can like such things. He had spent a few days with Sirius and Remus trying to figure out this whole art thing, and he thought he was absolutely ready to get Regulus enchanted.

Panic hit him when he and Regulus arrived at the museum, and instead of those gold-framed paintings on the walls, they were white industrial rooms with all sorts of strange objects that the people around looked at with interest. James also checked that they were in the right place. Yes, it said "Museum of Contemporary Art" in big letters. Then where is the art? Remus had shown him pictures of people and pretty landscapes in the albums, not stones sitting on chairs and pieces of iron oddly welded together.

James regains himself. This is not the time to panic; he can handle it. He knows fancy words like "perspective" and "plasticity." He walks over to Regulus, who was staring at something on a wall.

"Interesting piece, isn't it? I can see the artistic vision in this. The colors are proportioned to balance the composition perfectly. A true work of art,” says James with face confidence.

Regulus turns his head towards him, his expression so neutral it looks like a Renaissance portrait.

"James" Regulus began. "This is the map of the exhibition. It’s written down how to get to the toilet from here."

All the color in James' face drains, and he becomes as pale as a ghost. He has no hope left; he sees himself dying old and alone in a house with twelve cats. As James imagines fateful, horrible scenarios, Regulus lets out a giggle. He finds it cute that James is trying so hard to impress him. Regulus grabs his lover by the shirt and pulls him into a short kiss.

“Come on, I want to see some sculptures. In one of the rooms they have a Pollock, I think you'll like it. And after we're done here, we can go eat some hot dogs at the place that you like. I heard from Sirisu that you can put 5 hot dogs in your mouth at the same time. I'd like to see that,” Regulus said, dragging James at his hand.

James raises his head like a puppy and his face lightens up. He nods with a big smile and intertwines his fingers with Regulus', entering the exhibit together. Later, he will show Regulus that he can actually put six hot dogs in his mouth.

[scary-grace]

hi!! for the prompts: 8 & 28? :D i've only recently found ur shiggy fics and i love them all!! i can't wait to read more from you!! 💗

Hi there! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt. This one is set in an AU I've been kicking around for a little while, with the potential to turn into a longer fic one day -- Shigaraki x reader, no quirks/high school au, zombie apocalypse. I'm still taking prompts from this list if you or anyone else would like to send me another!

'shielding the other one with their body' + ‘feeling for each other in the dark’

“Don’t look.” Shigaraki stands squarely between you and whatever lies half in, half out of the classroom. You try to step around him, and he steps back in to block your view. “Hey. What did I just tell you? Don’t look.”

“Just because I’m a girl, you think I can’t –” Rage and stress make you incoherent enough as it is, but beneath it all is fear. Fear because you’ve come to a stop. Fear because you know they’re here somewhere, but you don’t know where, and in the bloodshed that’s unfolded in the halls of your high school since this morning, you’ve learned to fear silence as much as noise. “I can handle it. Let me see –”

“You think it’s because you’re a girl? I wish I hadn’t seen it,” Shigaraki snaps at you. “If I didn’t want to see it, you don’t want to, either.”

For some reason, that argument works on you. “Do you know who it was?”

Shigaraki glances over his shoulder. His jaw clenches, and he looks away fast. “A teacher, maybe. Whoever they were, there’s not enough left of them to reanimate.”

“Good.”

The words feel wrong even as they leave your mouth, but you mean them. With your survival looking increasingly unlikely, the best thing you can hope for is that you don’t come back after you’re killed. “Good,” Shigaraki says. “Let’s go.”

You nod, and inch past the doorway, careful of where you step, avoiding the smears of blood along with everything else. Shigaraki keeps blocking your view the entire way. You’ve been switching off who leads the way, and now it’s your turn. You hold your hand out behind you for the mirror you’ve been using to check around corners and Shigaraki passes it to you, his fingers brushing over yours in a way that would have made your heart skip a beat this morning. Now, with night falling soon, there’s no room left inside you for a stupid crush. All the space is take up by the knowledge of just how quickly things can go wrong.

It started in chemistry class. Everything was fine until chemistry class, even though it’s Valentine’s Day and Valentine’s Day is the worst day of the year for almost everybody. You and your friends did the traditional single-girl chocolate swap, but you brought another small box with you, in case you got up your nerve. And you did. Instead of leaving it in your backpack to be forgotten or in front of his locker to be stolen, you set it down at your lab partner’s seat before he got there.

Shigaraki Tomura isn’t a nice guy. He’s older than you, courtesy of being held back a year sometime in middle school, and while he has friends, every last one of them has a reputation just like his. When you were paired up with him for chem lab at the beginning of the year, most people felt sorry for you, and they said so. But you were determined to make the best of it, not to get off on the wrong foot, and so you were friendly. It took two months for him to start being friendly back.

Maybe that was why you risked the chocolate. You remembered a conversation early on, both of you complaining about couples hanging out in the hallways and blocking you from getting your shoes back, and he’d mentioned something about Valentine’s Day being even worse – everybody and their cat gets chocolate, and I just have to look at it. Writing is your best subject. You read between the lines. And you decided to bring him something way before you admitted you had a crush.

You weren’t sure how you were expecting him to react. Confusion, or interest – you hadn’t signed your name, and if someone gave you chocolate, you’d want to know who it was. But Shigaraki guessed right away that it was you, and when he turned to you, all you could see on his face was rage. It took you three minutes to get your bearings, to respond. Three minutes was enough to get you both sent to the principal’s office.

And it’s a good thing you were there, wasn’t it? In an office with a door that locked and a closed-circuit TV, so when you heard the first screams, you could look into and see exactly what was happening. Your school was devolving into a mess of blood and bodies, and while you refused to say the word, Shigaraki wasn’t shy about it. They’re zombies, he said. And then: We’re fucked.

You made up your mind right then that the two of you were going to survive – and that you were going to finish up the stupid fight you were having in chem class – but as the day’s worn on, it’s gotten harder to hide the truth. The two of you can sneak around the school. You can scavenge food and makeshift weapons. You can use the zombies’ sensitivity to sound to draw them away from wherever you’re trying to go. But you’re still trapped inside the school. You have no idea what conditions are like on the outside, because the school WiFi’s been shut down, and the building’s a dead zone on its best day. And you’re running out of places to go.

Right now you’re moving from the music room, where you spent the afternoon, up into the higher reaches of the building. Going up feels like a bad idea, except the upper levels have fire escapes, which means any room with a window has a way out. You can figure that out in the morning. It’s almost nightfall, and the power’s out. If you and Shigaraki don’t hurry up, you’ll be fumbling your way through a school full of zombies in the dark.

You check around the corner with the mirror. It looks like a straight shot to the stairs, except there’s a couple of zombies knocking around on the landing below your current floor, too clueless to climb up without something to draw their attention. You beckon Shigaraki forward to look into the mirror with you. “Too much open space,” he says, his chapped lips pressed to your ear. “There’s another staircase.”

“On the other end of the school. It’s too far.” You can’t face picking your way back through the sea of bloodstained classrooms the two of you have already crossed. “If we cross –”

“No.”

“If we cross the hall and throw something back the way we came, they’ll clear out and we can go along the wall. As long as we’re quiet –”

The instant the word leaves your mouth, a distant scream pierces the air, and your stomach clenches with horror. There was someone else alive in here – someone else, who’s about to be murdered, and whose cries for help have jarred the zombies on the landing into motion. “Fuck,” Shigaraki mumbles in your ear. “Your idea. Let’s go.”

In the thirty seconds or so it takes the zombies to fumble their way up the stairs to your floor, you and Shigaraki cross the hallway and glue yourselves to the opposite wall. You’ve figured out by now that the zombies don’t see too well. When they pass by, you hold ridiculously still, barely even breathing, and as soon as they round the corner, both of you bolt for the stairs. The stairs are covered in bookbags, backpacks, coats, water bottles, even phones – anything someone would have dropped as they ran for their lives.

You’re careful with where you step, worried not just about sound but about whatever you put weight on sliding out from underneath you. Shigaraki’s not as careful, and it costs him. He stumbles on the strap of a backpack, turns his ankle, curses as he kicks free. The thump of the backpack as it tumbles a few steps down the stairs makes you cringe, but there’s something even worse – a metal water bottle, rolling from the edge of one step. Shigaraki lunges for it, misses. You go for it, and you don’t miss.

But Shigaraki’s off-balance, and with his ankle turned, he can’t catch himself without making noise. A cascade of backpacks and water bottles tumbles down the stairs, jangling and clattering as they go, and you freeze. So does Shigaraki. If there are zombies on the upper floor, you’re both dead, but you don’t hear footsteps above you. What you do hear are the stumbling groans and thuds of zombies coming from every other direction.

You need them to keep going every other direction. You adjust your grip on the water bottle and throw it as hard as you can down the hall, listening to it clang against the tile floors. That should distract them at least a little. Long enough for you and Shigaraki to get to the upper floor. You reach out, offering to help him up the stairs, but he smacks your hand away and gets to his feet on his own.

The two of you can’t use the mirror to check what awaits you at the top of the stairs, but it’s quiet. Shigaraki’s taller, so he stands up straight, peering into the hallway. “Nothing,” he says, when he drops back down at your side. “All the doors are open. We can pick a room.”

The upper floor is weirdly quiet, weirdly empty, weirdly clear of bodies and blood. It’s like everyone got up and left at once. Every time you peer into a room, you expect a nightmare to leap out at you, but the only things moving through the hall are you and Shigaraki. It’s creeping Shigaraki out, too. “Where did they go?”

“We heard the fire alarm go off. People on the top floor would have evacuated down the stairwells.” You remember this morning’s screams, and the way the fire alarm howled for an hour before falling silent. “The zombies wouldn’t have had a reason to come here. How about this one?”

Shigaraki peers into the room you picked. “It’s tiny.”

“It’ll be easier to keep warm,” you say. He gives you a weird look. “The power’s out. The heat will be, too. This has a window and a fire escape.”

“The door doesn’t lock.” Shigaraki turns the handle this way and that. “We’ll barricade ourselves in.”

“We should check the classrooms first,” you say. “People leave their backpacks in a fire drill. Maybe somebody left some food.”

Your idea was to split up, to check the classrooms one at a time, but Shigaraki follows you, and the two of you pick over your dead classmates’ belongings mostly in silence. Shigaraki collects food and water, and you do the same, although you add in other things that might be useful. Portable chargers, assuming any of them are charged. Medicine – allergy pills, ibuprofen, band-aids. A spare pair of socks, a pencil pouch with tampons and panty liners, a toothbrush and toothpaste. The only things you don’t touch are the packages of chocolate your classmates left behind.

Shigaraki doesn’t ask questions until you’re back in your chosen room, the door barricaded and the spoils from your looting spread out on the floor between you. “What did you grab that for?”

“Stuff we’ll need. For when we get out of here.”

Shigaraki scoffs. “You think we’re getting out of here? They left us. They don’t care what happens to us. Once the military gets its shit together they’ll burn this place to the ground.”

“So we’ll get out before then,” you say. “Why did you grab all that food if you think we’re just going to die?”

“We might as well eat good until then.” Shigaraki pokes at a bag of chips, then grimaces. “These are gonna be loud.”

“Maybe that’s how we sort them. Quiet stuff first.” You start rearranging the supplies, and Shigaraki helps without arguing. Outside the window, the sun is setting fast. “We want to be ready to go in the morning.”

“Go where?” Shigaraki shakes his head. “Even if we make it down the fire escape, we’re just going to land in the bushes. Every zombie in the school will hear that.”

“The bushes are right by the student parking lot,” you say. Shigaraki looks up. “How fast can you hotwire a car?”

“Do you think I was in a gang or something?”

“Do you know how to or not?”

“I can do it.” Shigaraki glances out the window, grimaces. The room is so dark that you can barely make out his expression in the dark. “Let’s say we make it that far. Where do we even go?”

“Anywhere,” you say. “Anywhere’s better than here.”

Shigaraki could argue with you. You even know what he’d say – something about how a zombie outbreak would be even worse in a city, how there are plenty of places the two of you could go where you’d be fucked even worse than you are right now. But he doesn’t argue with you. Instead he slides an energy bar across the floor to you. It’s one of the ones you like, one he’s probably seen you eat dozens of times. You didn’t realize he paid attention to stuff like that.

You pay attention, too. You hand him a package of the cookies he always gets from the vending machine, and the two of you settle down to eat in silence.

You’re both night owls – you know that, courtesy of messaging him late about projects and getting an almost instantaneous response – but without light and with the need to save your phone batteries, both of you settle down early. The door’s firmly barricaded. The only other way out is the window and the fire escape, and zombies can’t climb, which means you and Shigaraki are as safe as it’s possible to be. It’s safe for you to fall asleep.

Your mind knows that, but your body doesn’t. Every inch of you is humming with adrenaline, your limbs shaky instead of sure, and no matter how safe your current hideout might be, you know the world outside isn’t. Shigaraki’s right. Where are you going to go, if the two of you manage to get out of here? The zombie virus always spreads, even in zombie movies with happy endings. How many high schools is it in now? How many towns? Even if you live to be a hundred, you’ll never forget what you saw here. What you heard. What you smelled. But you won’t live to be a hundred. You’ll die. Probably tomorrow.

Even though you picked the smallest room to hole up in, the cold still seeps in. Two people’s body heat isn’t enough, especially not when you’re sleeping on opposite sides of the room. But there’s no way you’re cuddling up to Shigaraki in the middle of the night. Given how he reacted to the chocolates you gave him, he’d probably kill you for suggesting it. Why did he react like that, anyway? You never got an answer.

A hand brushes across your shoulder and you startle so badly that your heart goes still in your chest. “Don’t do that.” Shigaraki’s voice is barely a rasp. “You’re cold, too. If you freeze to death I’m never getting out of here.”

“I thought we were dead anyway.” You feel Shigaraki inching closer to you across the tile floors and make what’s probably a stupid decision. “Why not? I guess you need somebody to throw to the zombies to slow them down.”

“Why, so I can make it another five feet on my own? Not worth it.” Shigaraki settles in beside you, until you’re lying back to back. You’re pretty sure that you have to get closer to share body heat with any effectiveness, but you’re not going to say a word. “It’s better to be on a team. I could do a lot worse.”

The urge to ask him about the chocolate boils up again, but it’s faint, transient. There’s something more important you need to ask. “Shigaraki, I need you to promise me something. If I get bitten –”

“I know. Put you out of your misery.” Shigaraki yawns. “I can do that.”

“No,” you say. “That’s not the kind of movie we’re in.”

“Then what? I’m supposed to drag you with me until there’s a cure?”

You grit your teeth. “I need you to promise me,” you try again. “If I get bitten – just let them eat me.”

Shigaraki coughs. “What?”

“Just let them eat me,” you say. You feel strangely calm. “If you kill me after I’m bitten, I’ll come back as one of them. The only way I won’t is if my body’s too damaged to reanimate. So don’t try to save me. Just let them finish it. Save yourself.”

The silence in the small room is deafening, broken up only by the sound of your breathing and the wind outside. Is what you asked of Shigaraki really that big of a deal? You’re not asking him to do it himself, just to let nature take its course. “No,” Shigaraki says after a silence so long that you thought he might have fallen asleep. “Fuck that.”

“Shigaraki –”

“I said it’s better to have a team. My team is you.” Shigaraki rolls over next to you, then yanks at your shoulder until you do the same, and you’re nose to nose in the dark. “I don’t abandon my teammates. We’re getting out of here. Tomorrow.”

His eyes are clear, locked on yours. You look away. “You’ve changed your tune.”

“You were the hopeful one all day. It’s my turn,” Shigaraki says. He yawns, turns his head to hide it in his elbow without lifting his hand off your shoulder. “Go to sleep before you get any other dumb ideas.”

There’s no way you’re going to be able to sleep face to face with him. You roll over again, putting your back to him, and shut your eyes, ordering yourself not to open them until morning or until something important happens. And something important does happen – or at least, something that would have felt important this morning, before the end of the world. Some stretch of time later, Shigaraki’s arm falls deliberately over your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

[antariies]

how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk

SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......

and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)

this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy

okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!

1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.

2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea

3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!

hehe :3c

4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.

5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!

and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c

6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this

7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves

7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.

8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.

a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.

9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼

10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.

will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.

11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.

i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.

12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O

and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....

13.

i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.

me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!

14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]

15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.

16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.

17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.

18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture

19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol

20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns

21.

obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.

also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS

but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!

and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼

and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - JEONGIN

TITLE: Weeding out the weak

PAIRING: Jeongin x reader

SUMMARY: After almost two weeks of Jeongin not allowing you to touch yourself, greed forces you to cave which only leads you to be caught by him in his bed trying to get yourself off. Despite pleading with Jeongin for him to fuck you, he finds a better solution by only giving you half of what you want.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: slightly mean dom-Jeongin, sub-reader, ruined orgasm, female masturbation, fingering, swearing, begging.

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

KINK: Voyuerism

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat

Jeongin is not a very tortuous person. He doesn’t ever actively go out of his way to make you upset and never would in the future. But this time, he had done it. You had reached a limit you never thought he would bring out of you and it all started with a bit of teasing.

It was just an innocent night out with Jeongin at a club and restaurant which quickly escalated into a steamy round of bathroom sex at the back. Jeongin was pissed that you had him so riled up enough to fuck you in public that he decided to put one rule in place for you to learn your lesson; no touching. 

He wasn’t going to touch you and you weren’t allowed to touch yourself in place of that. For how long was the real question that you started asking yourself when it had been a full week of no sexual contact whatsoever.

But that’s the dynamic between you and Jeongin. You both love slotting into your roles of dom and sub here and there and that rule just happened to be part of it. 

It was a painful mistake to think it was going to be easy without being touched or not being able to touch yourself. But that was after the fact that your sex drive had been satiated by getting railed by Jeongin. In the days after, the urge began creeping up whenever you felt horny, and Jeongin managed to take advantage of it.

He fed into your needs by getting handsy with you; groping your tits around the house, smacking your ass as you walked past him, kissing your neck from behind. But not anything more other than that, and it was frustrating.

"Why can't you fuck me?" You would ask him earlier into the second week.

"I told you," Jeongin started. "No touching until I say so."

"Surely you can now, it's been more than a week," you pleaded.

"No."

"Then can I please touch myself at least?" you questioned. "I need it so bad."

"Then you should've thought about it prior to acting up last week," Jeongin responds sharply.

As a result of the harsh reinforcement of his rule and words, it's led you into a state of being completely starved for touch. Sex had been on your mind a lot more than usual, specifically, the things that Jeongin has done to you in the past. It was almost like detoxing from him entirely.

However, up until now, when you're in bed watching a movie while Jeongin is out with friends, you still think about it. The fact that the film you're watching is relatively raunchy, doesn't help the circumstance that you're in.

It forces you to think about Jeongin - his cock, the way that he fucks, his fingers, his warm, wet mouth. A moan slips past your mouth just thinking about it. The invisible chokehold that he has around you begins to loosen when the idea of touching yourself slips into the cracks of your conscience.

'What Jeongin doesn’t know won't hurt him' is the phrase you tell yourself when your hand starts slipping down the front of your underwear. 

There’s a wash of relief that you feel, the split second your fingers reach your clit, already gathering the wet slick that has started up from thinking about Jeongin. Your thoughts run rabid, tracing back to the times where Jeongin has fucked you so good. 

“Jeongin…” you mutter to yourself, eyes fluttering closed as you pick up the speed of your fingers. 

With the whole house to yourself, you have free reign to be as loud as you like - which is usually the case if Jeongin were with you. But there was something deliciously dirty about getting off while he wasn't there. Maybe it was the fact that you were completely breaking the one rule he had for you, or maybe it was the thought of potentially being caught.

Regardless of the matter, Jeongin knew that both were the case when he arrived back home early. He even announced himself as he walked in through the door, but your moans seemed to drown his voice out that you had no clue he was back.

His ear picked up the faint, muted sounds coming from the bedroom and proceeded to investigate with the inkling in the back of his mind that he knew what it was. Jeongin could see the glow of the TV from the slightly ajar door, but the sounds became much clearer when he pinpointed your moans.

"Mmm, fuck Jeongin, please..."

His throat ran dry for a few seconds. So this is what you look like when you're all alone and touch yourself? Jeongin needed to watch you like this more often; vulnerable, horny, helpless, and needy.

So he stood there, watching you for a good few moments where you progressively became more vocal and frenetic with your movements. He himself can't not feel horny when he sees you like this, so just when he thinks you're about to reach the very tip-top of your orgasm, Jeongin swings the door open.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Your hand retracts away from your clit, so startled that the wave of pleasure you were building yourself up towards dissipates as fast as you could possibly comprehend that Jeongin was standing at the door. With your heart pounding against your chest, there’s a few seconds where you both look at each other, dead in the eye only for you to realise that he is actually standing there. 

“I…I thought you were out,” you stammer, hoping desperately that what you’re doing isn’t what it seems to him. 

“I was,” Jeongin answers. “And now I’m back. So I’ll ask again, what are you doing?” 

You sit up, still panting and fed up, “I’m horny so I don’t care about your stupid rule anymore. You haven’t touched me properly in two weeks and I haven’t been allowed to touch myself either, I’m done with it.”

Jeongin feels a slight tinge of guilt, but he doesn’t show it in his expression. He may have gone overboard with pressing up behind you at certain times, groping you or feeling you up whenever he got the chance. But, you still disobeyed him. 

He takes off his black blazer and folds it neatly once before draping it over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. As he walks over to you, he’s unbuttoning the sleeves to his white dress shirt and rolling up his sleeve.

“You can take my fingers,” Jeongin says impatiently, sitting next to you but on the edge of the bed. “That’s all you’re getting.”

Better than nothing. 

At the rate you’ve been going at for the past two weeks, just about every inanimate object looks mountable to you. Therefore, you are taking whatever it is that Jeongin will give you. 

He starts by spreading your legs apart for himself and uses the tips of his fingers to glide delicately and softly over your pussy. It doesn’t take long for them to be deliciously slick with your juices while the wet sounds makes you grip at the hem of his jersey. 

He then takes it upon himself to remove all of his rings that are always hot to look at but are now a barrier in this sense - for you. 

“Wetter than usual you are,” Jeongin voices his observation aloud, making you flush with shame before his hand returns to you. “Is this what happens if I neglect you for too long?”

You throw your head back when he teases your entrance with just the tip of one finger. He pulls back and goes in a bit deeper, enough to make you start audibly moaning. Using this method a few times, he was to be sure that you’ve had some prep, regardless if you started but couldn’t finish it.

Plus his fingers are very different from yours and they have never been able to do the trick like him.  

“Yes, baby, feels so good,” your eyes flutter shut. 

“Yeah?” He reaffirms and then takes into consideration how hard you're gripping around his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere, you can relax."

“I can’t help it,” you cry out pathetically, gripping the pillow behind your head. 

The ridge of pleasure fast approaches and Jeongin can feel you clenching sporadically around his fingers, watching his digits become increasingly wetter all the way down to the palm of his hand. When your moans become more strained and stagnant and when you start calling out his name, Jeongin makes the most malicious decision and retracts his entire hand from you. 

Your eyes flash open, clenching around an emptiness as you cum. 

“N-No! Please, please, please! I wanna-I almost-”

“Almost what?” Jeongin interrupts your babbling. “Almost came without my permission? As if.”

You throw your head back and try to swim in what’s left of the diluted pleasure Jeongin stripped from you. But no matter how hard you tried, it was no use. There was no intense surge of euphoria or tingly sensation that would spread throughout your body. 

“Cry about it,” Jeongin shrugs carelessly. “You knew what the rule was and yet you still went ahead and broke it.” 

At that moment, you could have actually cried. His words were a clear sign of ‘fuck around and find out’. So long as he is stern and strict with you about any rule that you both agree to implement, Jeongin will uphold it until the day he dies. 

"I couldn't help myself," you whine while your legs are still clenching and rubbing toghether.

"Clearly," Jeongin replies sarcastically. "Now you know for next time that your actions have consequences."

"There won't be a next time, I promise I'll be good," you swear to him.

Jeongin raises an eyebrow at you, "don't tell me one thing and then go and do the other angel. You'll need to prove it to me in the meantime."

---

A/N: I'm a real...slut for mean Jeongin...also sidenote, this was originally meant to be a 'mutual masturbation' piece but I went with voyeurism since of the mean!dom trope that I ran with.

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒: 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑒.

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: the first time you meet coriolanus snow, you're unsure how to gauge him. but a conversation opens a new door for you politically. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: consumption of alcohol ⊹ word count: 3331 ⊹ author’s note: I'm so excited to finally post this hehe. I know everyone has been so hype about this series and I'm proud to introduce to you the first chapter. any feedback is welcome. ♡

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

❝A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

It’s a peculiarly warm day in New England despite traces of snow still blanketing the dead grass in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. A blizzard had blown through the night you arrived, and the remains of the storm are now melting away with each passing moment. A veil of mist hangs in the air by the ocean, the mixture of freezing sea water and balmy air still trickling in from the middle Atlantic lingers. You’re watching the thin fog swirl around in the cool breeze as you stand in front of the formal living room window. The Kennedy Compound is just far enough from the beach that you can see it clearly from the front of the main house where you currently reside. And though a part of you longs to be outside after being cooped up for days due to that nasty winter storm, you’d rather not be bombarded with the still fairly bitter and salty air. Thin, long sleeves cover your arms as they cross over your chest despite the warmth of the fire in the den nearby. The house is still and silent. Everyone seems to be off doing their own thing after dinner wrapped up not long ago.

At 18 years old and beginning your secondary education journey, you never would have believed that you’d be where you are a decade later. You’re now 28, working toward your dual-title doctorate in political science and history at Harvard University. You’re so close to finally graduating, and it’s almost bittersweet. You wish your parents were around to see it. You’re the first in your entire family to go to university, not to mention the first to go to Harvard. Going to such a pristine school is unheard of in your neighborhood. What’s more unheard of, is your privilege to closely study and research your chosen dissertation topic. You decided you would research the life and ongoing legacy of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States. 

Except for the amount of data and information you need, you have to interview and research extensively. Which means having to eventually meet the man himself. 18-year-old you also would never believe that you would meet the President and shake his hand. Or even get to know him past the facade he puts on for the world. But it doesn’t stop there. Due to the difficulty of getting ahold of John F. Kennedy after his passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1963 and the Interracial Marriage Act, a decision was ultimately made. The chaos of Capitol Hill and the citizens of the United States pushed John F. Kennedy to leave for the holidays much sooner than usual. After getting to know you well enough over a few months, the decision was made that John F. Kennedy would invite you to stay with him and his family in Hyannis Port. Just for a few weeks, through Christmas and New Year. It isn’t like you had anything else to do or anyone to spend it with. Besides, this will be your chance to get exclusive information about the man and his family for your dissertation. 

So here you are in the Kennedy family home. In the last week you’ve been here, you’ve gotten to know Jack and his family quite well. You had insisted on remaining professional and calling Jack by his real name, but he refused that. “All my friends call me Jack.”

You’ve gotten the inside scoop on Jack’s childhood and his chronic illness that has carried into adulthood. The military history in the family has also been spilled to you, and not a single detail has fallen on deaf ears. You’ve filled two notebooks already. When you aren’t scribbling down everything, you’re nose-deep in a book Jack has written. Currently, you’re reading Profiles in Courage and have found it quite interesting. You decide you’ve done enough staring out the window and that you’d join Bobby and Ted outside at the bonfire. Once you’re outside, they’re heading back indoors. But they offer to leave the fire going for you. Graciously, you accept their offer and take a seat by the warm flames, opening up Profiles in Courage.

You’re blissfully unaware of how much time has passed, your eyes eagerly scanning each word in each line as if they’d disappear any moment. You almost don’t notice the sound of snow crunching underneath someone’s approaching feet.

“Sorry to bother you, but Jack is asking for you inside.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a man’s voice that you don’t recognize. You peer over your book at him and gauge that he must be safe, even if you don’t know who he is, considering the house is crawling with security.

“Alright, then,” you nod, putting your book down before standing up, stretching, and brushing yourself off. 

You look closer at the man before you as the orange flicker of the fire basks him in an angelic glow. His hair is a mess of stark blonde curls, and he’s in a white button-up, the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

“And who might you be, exactly?” you ask, tilting your head slightly in confusion.

“Excuse my lack of introduction. My name is Coriolanus Snow. Jack’s best friend.”

You quirk an eyebrow, exhaling a laugh, “But Lem is Jack’s best friend.”

The blonde man chuckles, taking a step closer to you, “Well, maybe there’s a lot about Jack you don’t know about just yet.”

You narrow your eyes at this Coriolanus Snow, not caring that your shoulder collides with him as you swerve around his tall figure. You walk briskly back to the main house, wondering how this mystery man has yet to be brought up. When you enter the front door, Jackie is holding John Jr. in the foyer. 

“I was just looking for you, dear,” she says, “Jack is asking for you.” 

“So I’ve heard,” you raise your eyebrows at Jackie, and John Jr. reaches for you. You poke the boy on the tip of his nose.

Jackie gives you a confused look, but you’re quick to explain, “Some man outside said that Jack was. He isn’t Secret Service.”

Realization crosses her soft features, “Ah, Coriolanus, I’m guessing?”

“You’d be correct.”

“He’s a long-time friend of Jack’s from Harvard. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him. His father was a New York senator for years.”

“Can’t say I’m too familiar with the Snows,” you purse your lips together, “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see what Jack needs me for.”

Jackie lifts John Jr.’s hand to wave goodbye to you, and you give him a big smile, waving back. You walk through the den to the staircase, trodding up the stairs until you reach the landing. The office is immediately to your right, and when you approach the door, you knock. When you do, the slightly ajar door opens wide enough to see Jack laughing and conversing with someone in the room. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt-“ you begin as you step inside the office, but you still yourself quickly.

Your eyes meet Coriolanus Snow’s steely blue ones as he leans against Jack’s desk, his forearms bearing his weight. His head is turned to you, his face appearing as if he were shocked by your arrival. 

You clear your throat, fixing your gaze back onto your original point of interest, “But I was told you were requesting my presence?”

“Yes, I was,” Jack smiles at you from his spot in his desk chair, “I’d like you to meet Coriolanus Snow, a great friend and colleague of mine. We attended Harvard way back when.”

Coriolanus stands up, straightening himself out. You notice he has an air about him that oozes confidence and prestige. His presence and towering height would seem intimidating to some upon the first meeting. Not to you, however. With your life focus being on politics, you’re quite desensitized from men and their faux personas.

“Nice to meet you,” you bite back a remark about already meeting Jack’s friend and stick out a hand, face blank and expressionless, “I currently attend Harvard myself.”

“Coriolanus, this is the bright Ph.D. student I was telling you about. She will be here until the New Year,” Jack says, a prideful grin on his face as he motions to you, “Be nice to her, she’s known to hold her ground.”

“I can tell,” Coriolanus gives Jack a close-lipped smile, his eyes averting to you.

You stand by Jack almost protectively, unsure of how to feel about the blonde man before you. The fact he managed to beat you inside and upstairs when you left him outside first made you wonder. Coriolanus’s physique in itself is alluring and piques your interest. He also seems quick-witted and the type to be a few steps ahead of everyone. It’s not hard to gauge this just from a few exchanged words. You’ve been studying and shadowing long enough to know who you’re interacting with. You study political science, for crying out loud. You know a born and bred power-hungry man when you see one. But at the end of the day, they’re just flesh and blood like those outside of the game. That’s the historian part of you trying not to judge Coriolanus so hard. You don’t know all the facts yet. If Jack is friends with him, he may not be so bad, despite the dark vibe he gives off. But you want to figure out why he appears so stiff.

“Coriolanus will be staying with us until New Year,” Jack turns to you, patting your back as he notices your shift in mood, “You don’t mind some extra company, do ya?”

“Not at all,” you smile sweetly at your mentor before turning to Coriolanus, “Besides, there’s still a lot about you that I don’t know about just yet. And I’d love to hear all about it.”

Jack hums in agreement. Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at you, and you raise yours back. He clears his throat, standing up slightly straighter than previously.

“I can always pour us some wine, and we can discuss some lighthearted details before turning in,” Coriolanus offers you, “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“That sounds lovely. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must grab my belongings from outside, and then I’ll be available in the den, Coriolanus.”

Jack and Coriolanus watch as you leave the room, closing the door behind you. Jack feels fairly content and is proud of his esteemed shadow getting along with his best friend. Or, appearing to be, anyway. Coriolanus is silent and remains neutral in his facial expression. He carefully turns the idea of you over and over in his head. There’s something to your character that intrigues him. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t figure it out.

When Jack and Coriolanus wrap up their conversation, you’re getting settled in the den. You’re curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, continuing your book from earlier. You circle a sentence that catches your attention, gnawing on the tip of the pen as you think of what Jack could have meant by this specific statement. You’re ripped from your thoughts when a hand delicately holds a glass of blood-red wine in front of you.

You abruptly close your book, taking the glass of wine, “Thank you.”

You don’t look at Coriolanus as he sits down, and he does so quietly without breaking his eyes from you. He keeps his focus on you as he sips his wine, and you can feel him do so as you stare into the flames in front of the couch.

“So,” Coriolanus clears his throat, “How long have you known Jack?”

You pause, taking your time to swallow your wine before glancing over to Coriolanus with little to no expression. You flash him a closed-lip smile before setting your glass down on the table, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

Coriolanus is taken aback, not showing it other than his raised brows before responding, “I see. And what makes you think I already know the answer to that?”

“Despite what society may think, a woman isn’t as daft as she appears to be. Given a man in her presence is smart enough to know that she isn’t, anyway,” you stare at him, unblinking, “No offense Senator Snow, but I know you’re a man of Harvard. And you know I’m a woman of Harvard, so let’s cut the chit-chat.”

Coriolanus slides his tongue across his teeth underneath his closed mouth before chuckling smartly, “I can see why Jack chose you. And you’re right, I did know the answer. But not every source is reliable.”

You lean down to retrieve your drink, “And why would Jack be an unreliable source?”

Coriolanus shrugs, “Well, as I’m sure you know, Jack knows his way around the ladies.”

“Am I supposed to be offended by this common knowledge, Mister Snow?” you swirl your wine around in the glass, peering up at him warningly.

“Of course not,” he furrows his brows, shaking his head in light disgust, “But you’re not unattractive by any means, miss.”

You scoff, “I’m very well aware. But your suggestion that I would entertain a superior I’m studying for one thing is pretty crass.”

Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand, “You know how Jack is-”

“Yes, I do,” you say sternly, “However, I’d never involve myself in nonsense.”

“And why is that?”

You tilt your head at the man, laughing in awe at his brazenness, “For starters, he has a loving and caring wife. Someone I rather respect and admire, actually.”

Coriolanus nods, sipping his wine without a word. It’s not the only reason, of course. But it takes anyone with common sense to know why you wouldn’t so much as poke Jack with a ten-foot stick. Yet you still decide to take this friend of Jack’s by surprise.

“And besides,” you shrug, “I prefer blondes,” you say plainly, throwing back the remainder of your wine as Coriolanus fights to keep his jaw from dropping.

“Now,” you lean against your knee that’s crossed over your other leg, holding your empty glass out to Coriolanus, “I’m studying the man and have studied him for years already. So, how about you tell me something I don’t know, hm?”

It takes a little while for Coriolanus to warm up to your snarky attitude, given he is the reason you have one. But you also take some time to soften up yourself. You aren’t always so bitey- not unless deeply provoked. And all that Coriolanus Snow has done is provoke you as long as you’ve known him, which has only been a few hours. But the more the two of you talk and drink, the more you both begin to unravel. It takes about three glasses of vintage wine to make Coriolanus crack a genuine smile for the first time in front of you. Which, by all means, was not normal for him, especially around someone he just met. More so around a woman in general. However, just as you know there’s something to Coriolanus, he knows there’s something to you as well. And he has barely even scratched the surface.

“One night during his campaign, he had a little too much to drink at a dinner, and his accent was so thick I had to translate,” Coriolanus says, his chin resting in his hand. His arm is propped on the arm of the couch that you are perched on where he now also sits. Coriolanus is far enough from you to be civil but close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. For someone with such a cold demeanor, he could put the fireplace to shame.

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, “That’s actually quite funny, considering how thick it is in general. I can’t imagine how it must sound while he’s a few sheets to the wind.”

“Exactly,” Coriolanus lifts his finger from his glass to point at you, “But in actuality, it was a test.”

You look at him confused as you pour a fourth glass for yourself, “How so?”

“Jack wanted to make sure I knew what to say to voters and donors,” Coriolanus says, finishing his wine.

You offer to pour him more, to which he accepts, “Why would that matter?”

“He knew I was planning to run this year.”

You set the bottle of wine down, “To run?” you repeat, openly laughing now, “For what? Cabinet?”

“No. President.”

The burn of alcohol shoots pitifully through your sinuses, nearly exiting your nose as you struggle to cover your obvious laugh. You sniff harshly, covering your mouth and nose with the back of your hand as you swallow the remainder of the wine, recovering the best you can before answering.

“Normally, I’d believe a senator who says that, but before today I had no idea who you were, Coriolanus,” you look at him incredulously, “The election is eleven months away now. You need to, and pardon me when I say this, light a fire under your ass.”

Now it’s Coriolanus’s turn to laugh, “Shocking you’ve never heard of me, considering you’re a political science guru.”

“Shocking that I’ve never heard of you, considering you’re a senator of the United States of America under John F. Kennedy and running for the thirty-sixth President of the United States,”  you bark in response, your initial disliking of this man rising back to the surface.

Coriolanus’s jaw jerks to the side before he looks down in his lap, nodding to himself, “No, you’re right. I do need to light a fire under my ass.”

You shrug, finishing your wine and not bothering for another glass.

“How about since you made me realize this, you can help me out.”

You set the empty glass on the table before sinking back into the couch, crossing your arms as you look straight at Coriolanus, “Help you out with what, exactly?”

“My campaign,” Coriolanus says.

“You’re terribly hilarious, you know. I have too much to worry about right now to help a grown man who should already have a plan if he truly wanted to win the election.”

Coriolanus goes to defend himself, but you interrupt, “Before you give me some sort of excuse, yes, I know you’re a grown man. Yes, I do have too much to worry about. I’m literally writing a book about a man and his entire life. Yes, you most definitely should already have a plan by now if you want to win.”

Coriolanus just stares at you, unsure of what to say, but again you give your two cents, “And yes, as much as I probably shouldn’t, I will help you. But you will owe me big time. Got it?”

It takes a moment for Coriolanus to realize you’ve agreed to help out, but when he does, there’s a slight glow of gratitude in his eyes, “Thank you. I know I’m seriously behind, but I know I can do this. Especially if someone as well-endowed as you is helping me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m well-endowed in more ways than one, but politics is just the icing on the cake, sweetheart. So, let’s continue this tomorrow before I fall asleep here.”

Standing up from the couch after numerous glasses of wine has proven tricky. Your head swims, and you sway slightly from side to side. Coriolanus has to rest a gentle hand on the small of your back in order for you to steady yourself. You glance at him, letting your eyes linger in silent thanks, before collecting yourself and walking out of the den into the hallway. After putting your book and notes away, you strip your clothing and curl up under the soft duvet on your bed. Hopefully, your craving for political experience and curiosity in your interest won’t land you into trouble with Coriolanus Snow. But you’re eager to find out. 

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[cafeinthemoon]

It's a Fire - Chapter I

Chapter 1

Wordcount 3,5k

Title Retired Hashira

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: arranged marriage; age gap; mentions of increasing in criminality and poverty; grieving; non diagnosed depression (the condition wasn't properly understood by the time this story is settled)

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N.A.: So Kimetsu no Yaiba returned and I'm taking the opportunity to finally start posting this story that has been in my list of ideas for several months!

A while ago I made a poll where I included the option of writing a fic with the Rengoku family, and it was this one I was talking about. I know there are other stories I need to work on already, but let me tell you that this very fic just saved me from a creative block, which was caused by what I suspect to be the beginning of a burnout (I'm about to go on vacation and I just can't take it anymore, but I don't want to discuss this rn).

A few words about the ff itself: It's a slow burn, arranged marriage story between reader, who's 27/28 yo, which makes her closer to myself who's a bit older than this, and Shinjuro Rengoku, who's struggling with the same problems we see in canon, but somehow accepts her as his wife: she was the daughter of old acquaintances of his, so the marital contract is sealed to allegedly honor the friendship between the families. However, things are way more complicated in reality.

Of course, because of the things we see in the original media, such as violence, alcoholism and etc., I need to make it clear that my personal opinions on these subjects may diverge from what I'm putting in this story (due to personal family experiences), and each chapter will carry the necessary warnings. Also if you notice similarities with Beauty and the Beast, know that it isn't just a coincidence haha Finally, the title is a song by Portishead, which didn't influence my writing but its lyrics somehow fit this plot 🌹

I hope you have a good time reading this ❤

“You walk a lonely road 

Oh, how far you are from home” 

(Enya, May it Be) 

That fate didn’t care about your preferences and desires, you knew well. 

You wished you had your mother with you for long years, and that your relationship grew stronger as you spent your time together, dedicating yourselves to the art of the sword, but most of her time and energy were directed to her work as a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, and it was like this until the day you received a messenger from Ubuyashiki-sama to inform you about her death: she didn’t fall to the Oni, but couldn’t resist the injuries from a battle against a group of them. 

You also wished your father, after losing the woman he claimed to love, stood up to his remaining family, that is, himself and you, and took reasonable measures to protect his territory and the people who lived in it, but he preferred to lock himself in his office and ignore the demands outside it, firing half of the house’s servants for the sake of saving money and willing to leave the property to the dust and the insects, not seeing this happening thanks to you, who took the task of maintaining everything by yourself, even doing some of the physical work. 

There were, in fact, many other things you wished for, but didn’t have the chance to see them coming true. One of those other things were continuing to live in the house you grew up in, and using your education to dedicate your life to a career of your choice, though your options seemed limited by your sex. But even this was taken from you when, on an ordinary day, you saw your father leaving his office in the company of a man you’ve never seen in your life. You wanted to question him about this strange visit, but you didn’t have to: your father came to your chambers later, and without measuring his tone or giving you time to process such news, explained the meeting’s main subject. 

– I’ve recently contacted an old acquaintance of mine, someone who was also known by your mother – he started – And explained our situation here. 

You knew what he was talking about: after your mother passed away, your lands’ protection has been neglected, and appearances of demons have been reported more often by your servants and the people who live in the villages near. No one dared leaving their houses at night, and the local economy were deeply affected by this, since part of the basic work used to be done in this period of the day; this led to an increase in poverty and criminality. You, on your part, weren’t immune to these difficulties despite growing up in a privileged family. 

Your father addressing this situation to you, however, was something new, and you exposed this impression to him. 

– Things are getting harder for everyone here, that’s true – you agreed – But why are you discussing this with me now? 

– Because I asked this acquaintance for help, and he answered me – he took slow steps toward your window, half opened by that time; he closed it with firm hands, but without making much noise – The thing is that, at the same time our lands are now dangerous to people, specially to young women like you, it’s time for you to take the next big step in your personal life, daughter. After all, you’re almost twenty-eight. 

You frowned. 

Next big step? What is he talking about?… 

Your father might have noticed your confusion, because he soon clarified his words… and you wished he never did it. 

– I’m talking about marriage, y/n – he spat – You declined the last two proposals, and I respect your reasons for that, but this time the circumstances aren’t in our favor. This man who visited me earlier is a messenger from the Rengoku House, and he brought me a positive answer from their head: I offered your hand and a good dowry in exchange for your protection, and in respect to your mother, who worked for the same cause as him, Shinjuro Rengoku accepted you as his wife. You’re leaving the house this week. 

You were speechless. You tried to stand up and show a sign of protest, but your legs didn’t obey you; you opened your mouth to say something, but no word left it. You knew your father have been struggling, but you could never suppose he was becoming insane – arranging a marriage for you without your consent? Other men used to do this to their daughters, but the man who married your mother would never… But, apparently, he was no longer this man. 

Maybe he was expecting some disagreement, but seeing your silence made him frown. 

– Don’t you have anything to say about this? 

You finally seemed to wake up. You gave him a dead glare, murmuring your response. 

– And what do you expect a woman to say after being sold and sent away from her own house out of nowhere? – you moved your head to the side, irony leaking from the gesture – Thank you? 

Your father clenched his jaw. 

– I certainly don’t expect your gratitude – his voice was lower now – I know this isn’t the future you wanted for yourself, and I didn’t want things to be like this either, but… 

– Why marriage, father? – your tongue was released, interrupting his thread of thoughts like a storm – I could stay temporarily with them, work for them, anything! But marrying someone I’ve never met?! Don’t you remember that I’ve declined the other proposals after at least seeing the faces of those men? 

– You’ll meet him on the wedding day, and you’ll have all the time of the world to know anything there is to know about him – his tone was louder again, as his patience was running low – Besides, Shinjuro is an old friend of mine. I give you my word that he’s a decent man, besides being a formidable warrior. He was married to a respectable woman once, and built a good family with her. I trust him, and so did your mother. No problems should be expected from his part, so the same must be expected from you. 

Shinjuro. It was only the second time you’ve heard that name from your father’s mouth, and you didn’t know what to think. In fact, you’ve learned from your mother that among the Demon Slayer Corps there was an elite group known as the Hashira, and one of them was Shinjuro, the Hashira of the Flames. He was the current head of the Rengoku family, but personal struggles – including the death of his wife – forced him to a retirement despite his capacity as a warrior, so that his eldest son, Kyojuro, took his place. However, you also heard that this young man was dead, so it was impossible to tell how things were going for his family members now. And that was the environment your father was willing to throw you into, even spending money in the process. 

You sighed. 

– Father, when was the last time you’ve met this man? I don’t remember you talking about him – you crossed your arms – I’m only familiar with his name thanks to mother, but now you’re telling me that he’s an old friend of yours. How old is he, exactly? 

– Not as old as me, of course – his reply came with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation – I can’t believe that, of all the things involved in this arrangement, this is what concerns you more! 

You scoffed. 

– I’m not that futile, but if he’s old enough to have a son capable of replacing him in the battlefield, I think I have the right to be concerned! – you took a step toward him – If I have no choice, I want to know exactly where I’m getting into. Can’t you even make such a small concession to me, father? 

No, he couldn’t, and you soon realized that. 

Your father decided the conversation was over. He returned to the room’s door and opened it. 

– It is decided, already – and, with a sort of sadness in his eyes – I’m doing what I think it’s best for my daughter. I only wanted her to trust me, at least for once. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

– I wanted this too, father. But you’re making it too difficult for your daughter. 

He stared at you for a moment, then left without any word. 

*** 

Things really happened the way you feared, in the path your father stated they would follow. He said that, but until the end he kept acting like he had no control over the flow of events, in a frail attempt to soothe his own conscience that only served to unnerve you, and not even seeing the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes each time he looked at you was enough for him to leave this pretense aside. Had he no shame anymore? 

During that fateful week, you avoided his company, leaving the burden of communication to the remaining servants and only speaking to him when utterly necessary. What was left for you to talk about when, as he said, everything was decided, and when you had nothing but sadness for him — for him, the adversities he’s been through and for the way he chose to behave in face of them? It was useless to argue on this, and whether you liked it or not, you had little time to put everything in order and couldn’t have the luxury of wasting it: would it be worthy to cause a delay in the arrangements under the risk of leaving a bad impression in your future spouse, even when he was someone you’ve never saw before? 

You sighed at the thought. 

And, as if I hadn’t enough things to worry about, I still have to consider this. 

In fact, you didn’t want to take much stuff from that house with you at the same time you didn’t want to cause any difficulties to the servants, who have already seen their load increase the last months, so you were quick to select essential items and packing them with the help of a maid, from your clothes to the gifts brought by your mother, and instruct her about what to do with the other things: some of them you gave to her, knowing that she had a daughter who was younger than you and who’d appreciate your charity, and the others, such as the furniture, should be sent to the villagers, for you wanted your things to be with people who would make good use of them instead of letting them rot in a place to where you’d never come back. 

Among all of this, the last object you packed was the only thing you made a point about carrying by yourself, and the only thing you didn’t trust anyone to pack but yourself: the sword of your mother, which was sent to your house by Ubuyashiki-sama and now belonged to you. Your mother has been teaching you lessons since you were a teenager, but she hasn’t lived long enough to see if you were going to develop your own Breath; well, until that day you haven’t, but you’ve never stopped practicing even under your father’s disapproval. You didn’t know what you would find once you stepped into your husband’s house, but you wouldn’t want to depend on his protection on everything; besides, having a wife who knew how to wield a sword must be an advantage, right? 

The train of thoughts, feelings and concerns was such that you were robbed from sleep the night before the ceremony. You knew women who had their marriages arranged as well, but you never got to talk to them about it; you had no idea of how you were supposed to feel, or how you were supposed to see the whole thing. How one should feel when they saw themselves trapped in a situation from which they couldn’t get out? Without having answers, you just relied on the feeling that seemed reasonable to you, that is, utter fear. 

The next morning came silent and inexorable, just as the ones before it, and you saw yourself leaving your bed and taking care of your duties without putting your thoughts on them. It was only your body working by itself, saving your soul from the burden of being conscious, or perhaps you were just accepting your fate after a night of tears and rage. 

Having dismissed the maid’s help, you bathed and dressed alone, and left the house where the most important moments of your life took place without one last look. To be fair, your eyes were so sore and tired that they barely registered the appearance of the weather while you walked to the carriage, but you guessed it was a warm, sunny day, though not enough for you to get sweaty. Your father was already in the carriage’s interior; you took the seat beside him with no signs of acknowledging his presence. 

The coachman shook the reins and yelled something to the horse, and the crack of the wooden wheels was heard as the vehicle moved along the road. 

*** 

The ceremony took place in a building in the city of (…), near your father’s property, which served as the head office of a group of law professionals, including the man responsible for your marital contract. 

You wouldn’t call it a ceremony, really: it was more of a sequence of bureaucratic procedures than a social event with the purpose of uniting two families; a mere formality to allow you to move to a man’s house without ruining your reputation. It was quick, direct and cold like a financial operation, and the people involved seemed to make sure it looked like this. 

Your father led you to a sequence of stairs and then through a narrow corridor, until he stopped in front of a door and opened it, entering the room and inciting you to follow him. You did it, and found out you weren’t the first to arrive: the officiant was already in his position, behind a table upon which you saw an open book; at its right, there was a small inkwell and a feather; around him, two officers which function you couldn’t guess and couldn’t care about. And, finally, in front of the table and observing your arrival with a stern glare, the man who was about to become your husband. 

Whatever you were expecting to see, Shinjuro was nothing like you might have imagined, except for the fact that he was younger than you supposed – and, indeed, younger than your father – and stole the attentions among all those men despite the quiet, composed manners. Well, he would do it in any place he’d step in, for his appearance was extravagant, to say the least: on his severe face he carried a pair of orange eyes under two thick, black eyebrows, a wild trait that made you think of a lion; framing his expression and matching his eyes, he had thick, blond hair that decreased to red on its edges, spreading over his shoulders. And, as if his looks weren’t enough to draw the whole room’s attention, he was dressed in sober, dark clothing, more like someone attending a western funeral than a wedding. 

As you walked to the center of the room, led by your father, and took the spot beside Shinjuro, you felt your skin burning in discomfort under his merciless eyes. You breathed deep and, when he nodded to acknowledge you two, you made an effort to greet him, as well as the other men. 

I knew he wasn’t the same person my father claimed to know. He stated that he was good and trustful, but everything in this man screams danger. What kind of hell I’m getting into… 

The officiant announced the beginning of the ceremony, and you turned to him in silence. After a few, composed words to the new couple, he gave you both clear instructions on where to sign your names, and you did as he said, Shinjuro first, then you; you glanced at his hand offering you the feather and took it in a second, taking care your hand didn’t touch his. You tried not to think of your gestures as you wetted its tip on the ink, but a tremble reached your wrist the instant you approached the feather from the paper. 

So… That’s it. I write my name in a book and enter a path from where I can’t go back. 

The realization was too much to bear and time was passing, so you bit your inner cheek to prevent your mind to entertain the thought and scribbled your name at once. When you moved the feather away and put it back on the inkwell, your hand acted by itself, and your arm gone numb once you recoiled it to your side. 

Your mouth was dry, and a hole seemed to have taken the place of your heart. You barely noticed when the officiant and the other witnesses analyzed your signatures and approved them, bringing the ceremony to an end. You refused to believe all of that was real until the man announced you were free to go, and both Shinjuro and you turned away, preparing to leave. He didn’t bat an eye at you while doing so. 

The head of the Rengoku family stopped to exchange some words with your father. You were close enough to hear the conversation, but didn’t want to pay attention; you just wanted to leave this place, even though you weren’t going to a familiar one after it. 

You only understood their conversation was over when you heard your father’s voice calling your name. You turned to him and your stomach curled in disgust when you saw the pleading smile on his face, the only thing that reminded you of home and now a sign of everything you lost. You’ve never felt so alone. 

Later, you’d try to remember his exact words for you at that moment, but you’d find yourself unable to do it. Maybe it was a formal wish of good luck or something. The only thing you remembered was your reaction: you stared at him for a few seconds, then, without a word, you turned your face away, walking toward the door. You knew your husband was observing, but his approval was the least of your preoccupations now. 

*** 

Little was recalled by you from the travel to the Rengoku house, except that it was silent, even calm period. The only abnormality was caused by you: unlike your other belongings, who were sent in another vehicle ahead under the supervision of a servant, you decided you were going to carried your sword with you in the carriage, to everyone’s surprise and your father’s discontentment. 

That occasion was also when Shinjuro spoke to you for the first time. 

— Why are you doing this? 

The question, made when you were already in the carriage, was direct but not devoid of politeness, so you granted him an honest answer. 

— This sword once belonged to my mother, and now it is mine. If my father had his way, I’d never carry it with me, but I refuse to leave it behind — and, glancing at him, — I couldn’t risk him checking my things and subtracting it from them without my consent. 

Shinjuro only murmured an “I see” in response, and the conversation died there. 

You were beside the carriage’s window and might have slept to the warmth of the sun and the constant noise of the wheels in movement, but you weren’t sure if you did. As your body was now avoiding visible reactions, your spirit was suppressing the emotional rush for your own good, since no advantage would come from a breakdown in the middle of the road, right in front of your new spouse who, just like you, didn’t seem all pleased with the whole thing: sure, he didn’t show visible discontentment whether with your appearance or your manners, but you’ve been dealing with middle aged men for too long to sense when they were seeing something they didn’t find appropriate; and, in the present case, it was clear to you that Shinjuro already formed his opinion: to him, you were a stubborn, spoiled brat who didn’t have her way and was decided to make it everyone else’s problem. Yes, the idea of acting like that wandered through your mind for a while, but you thought you were better than this, and opted for a balance between bitterness and decency, not wearing plain clothing and displaying rude manners, but also not being extravagant in anything; still, you couldn’t convince the man of your good nature, and he let it clear with the inquiring about the sword, so now you completely gave up on seeking his favor. 

You were just waiting for the travel to end. 

Chapter 2