#working back through some tabs I've had open for a while

[afloweroutofstone]

"A New Washington Influence Industry is Making Millions from Sanctions," Jeff Stein, Federica Cocco and Peter Whoriskey, The Washington Post, October 25, 2024:

Some sanctions lobbying isn’t about a company trying to avoid sanctions, but trying to get them imposed on competitors. In 2015, [Tom] Coleman, the ex-senator, registered with other former U.S. officials at his law firm to lobby on behalf of Intrepid Potash, a domestic fertilizer company. The firm’s lobbyists asked State Department officials to tighten sanctions against Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, a close ally of Russia who was accused of human rights abuses. Inside government, some officials thought the lobbyists for the Denver-based firm were less concerned about human rights than about business competition; their goal was clearly to cut Belarusian potash producers out of international markets, said three former administration officials, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to describe private meetings. (The officials did not recall if Coleman was part of these conversations, although records show he was part of the lobbying team.) “You had these potash industry lobbyists trying to give us lessons on the intricacies of Belarusian politics,” said one former State Department official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to describe private interactions. “It was very odd — and very thinly veiled.” After a years-long lobbying campaign and another crackdown by Lukashenko on civilian protesters, the U.S. sanctioned Belarusian potash firms in 2021, pushing global potash prices to a 13-year high. A State Department spokeswoman said the potash sanctions were imposed because the industry generates revenue for the Belarusian regime. Intrepid Potash paid Coleman and his colleagues $1.5 million between 2015 and 2019. Coleman’s law firm declined to comment... Other U.S. firms have pushed for sanctions against their competitors, too. In 2022, after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Alcoa Corporation, a major U.S. aluminum producer, pushed the White House to sanction Russian aluminum companies, while spending more than $1 million on a team of lobbyists, according to Senate disclosures. As economic hostilities have deepened with China, U.S. companies have significantly ramped up spending on lobbying aimed at pushing Chinese competitors out of Western markets. Over the past six years, U.S. entities — primarily companies — have spent more than $1 billion on contracts with lobbyists that mention “China” and “sanctions” as specific targets, although these contracts also often include other goals as well, according to The Post’s analysis of Justice Department records.

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend III

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Teen!Reader

Summary: You make a game

When Lucy cracks open your door, you're as you always are.

You're hunched over your computer, clicking around some game level aimlessly with your tongue sticking out in concentration.

Your mice, like they always are when you're in the room, are running riot in their pen.

Outside of their cage and on the floor, you've set up a little pen for them to roam around and play in.

Lara and Zelda are wrestling like always as Clementine tries to work through the enrichment puzzle full of food. Ezio is asleep, flopped over on your shoulder as you study whatever new game you've found.

"You ready for dinner?"

Now that it's gotten colder, you've managed to get even moodier than before and even more of a shut in.

"One sec," You say. You click around the game level a bit more before pulling up a separate tab to type a long string of something Lucy can't even hope to understand. "Alright, I'm done. What's up?"

Lucy rolls her eyes fondly. "Dinner. Now. Ona cooked."

You push your chair out from your desk and stretch, your back cracking from the long hours you've spent hunched over.

You put the mice back into the cage, each of them getting a quick snuggle and kiss before you bolt it shut.

"Is it good food?" You ask as you go down the stairs.

"It's better than your mum makes!" Ona calls out and you grin.

"Yeah, but anything's better than Mum's cooking!"

Lucy grumbles, shaking her head. "One nice meal is all I ask. One meal where I don't get horrifically bullied!"

"We don't bully you," You say," It's character building!"

You and Ona laugh and Lucy just rolls her eyes. Sometimes, you think she would prefer if it went back to what it was like when you were first adapting to Ona.

"Oh," She says," I sent you those audio files you wanted."

"Thanks."

Lucy frowns. "She's been making you do those too?"

"Yeah, it's for a school project, right?"

You nod. "Uh-huh. It's for programming."

"I know I shouldn't have let you sign up for that," She says," It's all you ever do. I think you're losing sleep over it."

"You'll like it," You declare," What I'm working on. I promise."

"I'm sure that I will but it doesn't mean I think you're sleeping well. Put it down for once, that's all I'm saying."

You roll your eyes.

Lucy's always like that about your programming. Sometimes she lays asleep at gone three in the morning and can still hear you typing away on your computer for hours on end.

You return to your room after dinner ends and briefly come out to show Ona what you're working on while also denying Lucy the same opportunity.

"You've love it," Ona assures her at training the next day.

"Love what?" Keira asks," Oh, y/n's game? Yeah, you'll love it, Luce."

"Am I the only one that hasn't seen it?!" She demands, glancing around the room at people who are trying to not make eye contact with her. "Seriously? Raise your hand if you've seen it?"

Slowly, everyone raises their hand.

"This is so unfair!"

When you first got given the project, Lucy had been the first person to be clued into your plans. You showed her all your design sketches and all your ideas as you jumped between them.

At one point, one of your bedroom walls had been covered in concept designs and you would stand in front of it and point out certain aspects you liked and things you didn't think were quite perfect yet.

Lucu had been integral to your thought process and then all of a sudden she was shut out. You'd ask her to record voice lines or demonstrate doing something but you'd never explain why or what it was for.

You all but unplugged your computer when she came in unexpectedly and tried to get a sneak peak.

"Alright," Lucy says when she gets home to see you and Ona giggling on the sofa together," I've had enough. Show me your project."

You sit upright immediately, eyes wide.

"No-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I've had enough of the secrets."

She's serious. You can tell by the clench in her jaw and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

Lucy's stubborn but you inherited from her so you're stubborn too.

Your cross your arms in the same way as you stand. "No! It's not finished! You can see it when you're finished!"

"Hey," Ona intervenes before the argument can truly get heated. Her hand rests on your shoulder. "It's okay. Just show her."

"I can't! It's not ready!"

"Come on," Ona says," Show her."

You glance at your Mum, who is staring at you with that same stern look and crossed arms as the one that she came in with.

"Fine. Give me a sec."

Lucy sits on the sofa as Ona hooks up a laptop to the tv.

You come back in with a disc and nervously put it into the dvd slot.

Lucy doesn't know what to say when the opening credits appear.

'Lucy Bronze: The Game' with a little pixel version of her holding the Champion's League trophy up on her head.

"We were meant to make a game about a hero," You say," And you're my hero."

[bellaxgiornata]

Five Minutes

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.4k [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Fluff, nervous!Reader, suggestive comments, & a slightly soft, flirty Jax

Summary: While out with your friends at a seedy bar in Charming, you manage to catch Jax's eye–and he's quite determined just to get you to talk to him.

a/n: I'm temporarily back in my Jax Teller phase at the moment as I force myself to rewatch Sons of Anarchy and actually finish the last season instead of trying to pretend the show doesn't end like it does. I'm just going to use fanfic to spare my feelings right now even though I don't usually write for Jax. It's been months since I've written anything and this was admittedly written entirely today, but enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Raising the bottle of beer to your lips, you took a pull from it as your eyes scanned the dimly lit bar around you. Stanley's was a hole in the wall type of dive bar–not the sort of place you generally found yourself drinking on a Friday night with your friends after work. It was a seedy place, and that was only made even more apparent by the impossible to ignore presence of the Sons of Anarchy.

There were five of them sitting at a table on the opposite side of the bar from where you and your friends were drinking, all of them wearing their black leather kuttes with their worn patches and matching hardened expressions. They were deep in discussion as they sat with a few questionable looking men and one gentleman in particular who looked far too nicely dressed to be sitting and drinking in a place like Stanley's. It was obvious that they were doing something illegal, conducting some sort of business boldly out in the open. 

Swallowing down your beer, you lowered the almost empty bottle back to the table and returned your attention to your three friends who were still in the middle of discussing Tabitha's breakup. Leaning forward and resting your forearms along the wooden surface, you felt it wobble beneath your shifting weight as you focused on the conversation once more. Though you had to strain to hear them over the rock music blaring through the place.

“It's his damn loss, Tab,” Sara said, her tone firm. “If Travis is going to sleep around on you, then you deserve better than his dumbass. He's not worth a single one of your tears.”

Monica was nodding from her place in the chair beside you, gesturing her glass of cranberry vodka at Tabitha. It was clear she'd already had a few too many of them since the four of you had arrived over an hour ago.

“That's right,” she began. “We aren't out tonight to drown your sorrows over that asshole, we're out to remind you that you're a beautiful badass and you don't need him. You can do better.”

An annoyed scoff left Tabitha in response before she rolled her eyes. “Because there's so many wonderful options of available men in Charming to choose from,” Tabitha replied bitterly.

Unable to fight the grin at her harsh but truthful comment, you let out a small laugh. “What? You don't like our options at tonight's wonderful drinking establishment? You've got so much to choose from.” 

Monica and Sara were quick to laugh, matching smiles spreading across their faces. Both of them openly scanned the bar around the four of you, their eyes taking in the varying men drinking around Stanley’s.

“Yeah Tab, you've got your pick of either emotionally immature or emotionally unavailable,” Sara teased.

“Or old enough to be your father, beer gut included,” Monica joked.

Swallowing down another sip of your beer, you smiled as all three of your friends laughed at the table, the mood finally lifting among the group of you tonight. Your eyes darted across the bar back to the table of Sons. The blonde one you knew as Jax Teller, their leader, was standing and shaking the overly dressed gentleman's hand now, clearly finished with whatever illegal dealings they'd been handling here.

“And let us not forget,” you added on, your eyes averting from their table and returning to your friends as you lowered your voice, “the option of criminal biker. A Charming specialty.”

Each of your friends laughed once more before sending wary glances across the bar towards the leather-clad men. The Sons' presence here clearly made the four of you uneasy–almost as if bullets would start flying at any moment. And with the way things had been happening around town lately, it didn't feel far out of the realm of possibility with them here.

“Let's be real, they don't know a thing about commitment, either,” Tabitha replied, sitting back in her chair. “Any one of them would still be far worse than Travis.”

“There's a silver lining, at least,” Monica said before taking another deep drink from her glass. She swallowed it down before continuing, pointing a firm finger in the direction of the bikers across the bar. “Anything in this town is better than a Son.”

“Doesn't matter anyway,” Sara chimed in, her eyes darting to the bikers’ table and then back. “We are not the kind of women who even register on their radars.”

Picking up your own beer from the table, you drank down the last of its contents as your friends began speaking in hushed tones, the topic quickly taking a turn to the rumors they'd overheard about the Sons’ clubhouse parties. Sliding out of your chair, you had already stopped listening. You'd never concerned yourself with the small town's motorcycle club before, preferring to stay far away from them and the trouble they caused, so you certainly weren't about to suddenly care about the gossip and rumors now.

“I'm going to grab another beer, I'll be back,” you told the others.

Monica sent you a smile, acknowledging what you'd said before her eyes returned to Sara who was now in the middle of animatedly telling a story that she'd overheard about the Sons. Not wasting another minute, you ducked your head and walked away from the table, making your way towards the bar. As you wove between the other tables with gruff looking men who were giving you looks that made your palms sweat, you kept your eyes averted from any of them, doing your best to ignore the curious glances and the occasional comment thrown your way.

Reaching the bar, you caught the bartender's attention and ordered another beer, dropping some cash onto the bar counter as you did. You watched as the bartender grabbed the bills before walking off to retrieve your drink, your fingers absently drumming along the sticky counter as you waited. 

A few feet further down from you, another figure sauntered up to the bar, casually leaning their forearms along it. Against your better judgment, your head shifted over your shoulder, your eyes drawn by the movement. You felt your heart accelerate, pounding a bit harder in your chest as you recognized Jax Teller standing there looking worn and irritated, a slight crease between his brows and a downward curve to his mouth. Immediately you glanced away, eyes focusing straight ahead of you as your body went tense. Unfortunately for you, the sudden movement seemed to have caught his attention. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw his head turn in your direction as if he'd noticed you looking at him, and then you could practically feel his eyes running over you. 

Swallowing hard, your fingers drummed a bit more anxiously on the counter as you internally pleaded for the bartender to hurry up and return with your beer. But just as he began his slow return towards you with your opened bottle in hand, the Son beside you let out a soft, amused huff before he took a few steps closer. He easily slid further down the bar, now standing with barely three feet of space left between the both of you. His proximity had your pulse quickening even more as you determinedly kept your gaze straight ahead. Maybe if you didn't look at him again he wouldn't speak to you. 

Though it didn’t take long for your theory to be proven incorrect.

“You look out of place here, darlin’,” Jax’s deep, smooth voice came from beside you as he leaned just a fraction closer.

Continuing to keep your gaze fixed ahead, you watched as the bartender wordlessly set your drink down in front of you before focusing on Jax next, a hint of trepidation on his face as he took the intimidating man's drink order. Not wanting to stick around, your hand darted out to grab your beer before you turned away from the bar. Pulling the bottle up to your lips, you immediately took a deep drink to offset the dryness that had settled in your mouth at Jax’s presence.

“You just gonna ignore me, sweetheart?” he asked, shifting along the bar to casually lean his back against it. “I'm just being friendly here.”

Pausing at his voice directed at you once again, you felt your body go rigid on the spot. Hesitantly, you threw a timid glance back over your shoulder at him and the sight had you stopping just two steps from the bar. He was resting against the counter with a mixture of amusement and mischief dancing in his blue eyes, a cocky smirk tugging his lips upwards at one corner. He looked completely comfortable and at ease now as he stared back at you, the faintest curious tilt to his head.

You’d seen the Sons often enough over the years since you’d lived in Charming. Their bikes were impossible to miss when they came roaring through the streets of the small town, and you’d often seen them around the clubhouse lot every time you drove past Teller-Morrow Automotive whenever you drove to and from work. The sight of these men wasn’t anything new to you, but you’d also never been standing quite so close to one of them before. Especially not Jax. The rumors you’d always heard about how handsome he was hadn’t remotely done him justice–he was somehow even more attractive than he’d looked from across the bar earlier. 

Jax Teller was…beautiful, if you were being honest with yourself. In a sort of rugged, dangerous way. The sort of way that had your heart hammering like a caged bird in your chest with his confident smirk, those engaging blue eyes which clearly held an endless amount of secrets, and that damn slicked back blonde hair that had your fingers itching to grab onto it and pull his face between your legs. 

As if he could read the thoughts racing through your mind, his smirk grew into a lazy smile, one hand reaching over and grabbing the drink the bartender set down beside him. His eyes never once left you as he watched you, the gaze not unlike that of a cat about to toy with a mouse. The look he was directing at you had you tightening your grip on your beer bottle, your palm dampening nervously against the glass.

“Come on, darlin’,” he tried again, slowly gesturing his head towards the barstool beside him. “Take a seat. I just wanna talk.”

“I–I don't think that's a good idea,” you stammered.

Taking another step to leave, you turned and made a desperate attempt to get out of his line of sight and back to your friends at the table, but you’d only managed that one step before his hand was lightly grasping onto your upper arm and gently turning you back towards him. Immediately you bristled at the touch, your body tensing as you jolted backwards and out of his reach. The smile on Jax’s face only grew wider, like he’d found your reaction to his touch entertaining. With his drink held in one hand, he raised both of his hands in mock surrender.

“Easy there, darlin’,” he drawled out, still grinning. “Just wanna talk. That’s all. Nothin’ else, I promise.”

Standing there with your heart thudding away inside of your ribcage, you tried to swallow back the lump forming in your throat. He was so damn comfortable and confident just leaning against the bar like that, it was only making you more nervous. What the hell did he want with you? You clearly looked nothing like any of the women you’d spotted hanging around the clubhouse whenever you’d driven past, he couldn’t possibly be thinking that he was going to take you home to his bed. Though the thought of that, of being alone with him like that , had your cheeks heating as your eyes darted down to the bottle of beer in your hands.

“I think you’d find I’m not remotely the kind of company you’re looking for,” you answered back, awkwardly attempting to avoid his gaze.

A low, rumbling chuckle fell out of him at your comment, the sound drawing your eyes back up to his. Somehow he just looked even more entertained.

“And what makes you say that?” he asked, that lazy grin still on his lips. “What kinda company do you think I’m looking for, sweetheart?”

The question drew the heat further down your neck, your whole body starting to feel like it was on fire now. You were absolutely not made for conversations with someone so straightforward and unflappable as Jax Teller. It seemed the more nervous you became, the more he enjoyed this unexpected interaction with you.

“Something more exciting than me,” you answered after a moment. “Look, I…have friends who’re probably wondering where I’ve disappeared to by now–”

“I’m just asking you to sit right here with me,” he said, cutting you off with a shrug. “Not trying to run off anywhere with you, darlin’.”

Closing your mouth at his interruption, you stood there for a long moment cautiously studying him. Why was he so damn insistent on you sitting with him and talking? What the hell did he want from you? Because it had to be something, right? There was no way he just wanted something as simple and innocent as a conversation. 

Turning just a fraction towards him, your brows drew together in confusion and contemplation, your question coming out just loud enough to be heard over the music in the bar. “Why? Why do you want to talk?”

Jax shrugged a single broad shoulder again in response. “Call it curiosity. You don’t look like you belong in a place like this,” he answered.

Your eyes narrowed a fraction at him in return. “Like I don’t belong in a bar?” 

A soft huff of laughter fell out of him before he shook his head, an almost boyish grin spreading across his lips as his eyes creased at the corners. “Nah, darlin’. That’s not what I meant,” he replied.

When you didn’t answer, his expression softened just a fraction as he straightened up against the counter behind him. His hand reached out towards you again and your eyes quickly darted down towards his ringed fingers, a look of fear passing over your face. Catching sight of your obvious discomfort, Jax’s hand hesitated in the space between you both before it slowly dropped back down to his side.

“Sorry, I forgot.” There was an edge of humor to his voice. “ You don’t want me to touch you. Gotta admit, I’m not used to that reaction from women.”

Clearing your throat, your eyes returned to his face. “Most women usually don’t like being touched by strange men at a bar,” you pointed out, trying to sound more bold than you felt. “That’s a normal reaction.”

The corner of his lips twitched again at your reply, as if he found your attempt at being firm with him more funny than anything. He nodded his head slowly before he spoke. “Yeah, suppose I’ve heard that.” His hand reached out to pull out the barstool beside him instead, dragging it over towards you before he gave it two gentle pats. “Come on. Just…quench my curiosity about why a timid thing like you is drinking in a place like this. I gotta know.”

Bottom lip rolling beneath your teeth, you chewed it in thought for a moment as your attention shifted down towards the awaiting barstool. Was that what he was after then? You just stood out to him and he wanted to know why you were here? That was all?

Cautiously, you turned further towards him, a wary expression still on your face despite the way the smile once more grew on his. An idea was forming in your mind, one you hoped would get him off of your back.

“If I talk with you for five minutes, will you leave me alone afterwards?” you asked, the question coming out of you slowly. 

Jax’s eyebrows rose marginally, almost like he couldn’t believe just how much you seemed to not want anything to do with him. One of his hands rose up from off the bar, his fingers running across his bearded mouth as if in thought while his eyes remained fixed on you in front of him. After a moment, he nodded once.

“Yeah, alright,” he answered, gesturing his head back towards the barstool once more. “You’ve got a deal, darlin’. Five minutes and then I’ll stop bothering you.” He paused, shooting you a handsome grin. “If that’s what you still want in five minutes.”

Eyes darting across the bar, your gaze landed over on your three friends still sitting at the table you’d left them at. They were all staring at you, watching you closely as if searching for some sign of distress considering who you were talking with. You gave them the faintest shake of your head to let them know you were fine before you took the few steps over to the barstool beside Jax, hesitantly lowering yourself onto it. He immediately shifted along the bar, resting his left elbow on the surface and leaning his weight onto it as he watched you take another pull off of your beer.

“Name’s Jax, but I’m guessin’ you already know who I am judging by the way you’ve been trying to scurry away from me this whole goddamn time,” he teased lightly. He jutted his chin at you, that hint of curiosity back in his eyes. “You got a name, darlin’?”

With your gaze focused on your beer bottle as you set it along the bar, your fingers fidgeted with the label along the bottle. The condensation on the brown glass already had a corner of it peeling off. Awkwardly you gave him your name, half of you wondering if that was even a good idea.

Jax chuckled in response, drawing his glass to his lips as he spoke. “Was expecting more of a fight from you on that, I’ll be honest,” he admitted, taking a drink before lowering the glass back to the bar counter. He took another step closer, leaning towards you when he spoke again. “So what exactly are you doing drinking at this shithole? Girl like you doesn’t look like she belongs in a place like this.”

Shaking your head, you glanced up at him beside you from beneath your lashes. If he wasn't some dangerous, playboy criminal you might have let yourself feel more flattered by his attention. Because you absolutely, definitely were not.

“No, I…generally don't come here,” you agreed with a small nod. “I uh…I'm out with my friends. One of them is going through a breakup. We didn't want to run into her ex while we were out tonight so…we came here tonight. Because no one ever goes to Stanley's.”

His blue eyes searched your face for a long moment as he let your response settle over him. Something about the intensity of his gaze mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke and leather emanating off of him at this distance had your stomach twisting nervously inside of you for different reasons than a few minutes ago. 

“Breakup, huh?” he mused after a moment. “Brought your friend out drinking to cheer her up. That's why you're here?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly. 

He bit his lip, fighting back a smile on his face at your explanation. The sight had your eyes darting away just so you could control your breathing. He was quickly becoming intimidating for an entirely different reason now.

“Makes sense,” he replied. “Guess you’re right, doubt you’d run into anyone in this damn place. Though it…really isn’t the best place for a thing like you to be drinking with your friends.”

Grabbing your beer, you raised it to your lips for another deep drink. He was making you so damn nervous that you couldn't refrain from blurting your next words as you set the bottle back down. “I'm guessing you're not out here to help your friend get over a breakup.”

A wide smile broke out across Jax's face, the sight quickly followed by his deep, rumbling laugh. The sound was so unexpected and pleasant that it caught you off guard, a small smile slipping onto your face in return before you could stop it. 

“No darlin’,” he replied, still chuckling at the absurdity of the idea. “That’s definitely not what brought me out here tonight.” 

The smile lingered on his lips as he watched you, something impossible to read in his expression. There was a growing curiosity in his sharp, blue eyes the longer he stood beside you, though. The sight of it had you shifting on the barstool anxiously.

“I got a feeling you're not just the awkward and shy thing I first thought you were, sweetheart,” Jax mused, his voice dropping to something a bit lower. “Seems like there's more to you that you're hiding behind that deer-in-the-headlights look you keep throwing my way.” His lips quirked up into something mischievous as he continued. “Kinda makes me wonder…”

Brows immediately furrowing at the way he'd trailed off, you stiffened in your seat. “Wonder what?” you asked him cautiously.

Jax paused for a moment, that devious little smirk still on his lips. His left hand absently swirled his glass along the bar as he watched you closely, almost like he was studying you. Observing you. Trying to make sense of you.

“What I'd gotta do to get you to loosen up a bit,” he answered after a moment.

Something about the way he'd said that, all resonant and sultry, paired with his confident smirk that seemed to have a double meaning, had a shudder running through you. He was smooth– far too smooth. Despite the fact that you knew how dangerous he was, knew the type of man he was, you felt a warmth slowly flooding through you, one that wasn't related to nerves or alcohol. When he shifted beside you at the bar, his knee suddenly brushing along your thigh over your jeans, you practically jumped in your seat. 

“Relax, you're so on edge, darlin’,” Jax teased you, an amused huff passing between his lips. “I'm not gonna try anything. Consider me on my best behavior right now with you.” Jax paused, his gaze openly raking over you once more where you sat on the barstool, not even remotely being subtle. “Unless you ask me real nice, not to be.”

Almost instantly your eyes widened at his clear flirtation, your lips parting in surprise. That heat flooding you only seemed to be burning you up a bit hotter. Attention shifting back to the beer in front of you, your tongue darted out and dampened your lips in a nervous gesture. How in the hell was he affecting you like this? You should know better than to let a Son be chatting you up like this.

“You know,” Jax continued, taking another half-step closer to where you were sitting, “I’m not half as bad as you probably think I am.” He hesitated for a moment, making a slight face before adding on, “At least, in some respects. Just gimme a chance, sweetheart. Let me prove it to you.”

Eyes raising from the bottle of beer in front of you, your gaze landed on the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was well off by a half an hour from being remotely accurate, but five minutes had certainly passed since you'd sat down with him. As if he knew what you were thinking by where your eyes had shifted, Jax’s gaze followed yours to the clock. A moment later his attention returned to your face. Gradually your eyes landed back on him, watching as a lazy half-smile spread over his handsome mouth.

“Looks like my five minutes are up, darlin’,” he pointed out, leaning against the bar as he kept his eyes on you. “You're free to run back to your friends now.”

For some reason, you found yourself not immediately moving from your place on the barstool. He was right, you'd given him your five minutes to chat and quell his curiosity about why you were here. It was such a small thing for him to have wanted to ask you about, and yet somehow that had left you curious about him now.

“Or–” he said, breaking the mounting silence between you two as he raised his glass to his lips, pausing with it there as he continued, “–you can give me more than five minutes of your time tonight. Up to you, sweetheart. My evening is wide open at the moment.”

Sitting there, you watched as his lips wrapped around the edge of his glass, the dark liquid tipping back into his mouth as his eyes remained on you. Your hand gripped the neck of your beer bottle harder, your heart thrumming in your throat at the offer to stay and talk to him. You knew you shouldn't, you knew the smart thing to do was to get up with your beer and go back to your friends and forget this entire moment had ever even happened in the first place. Jax Teller was trouble. He wasn’t a good guy. He was a notorious playboy with a criminal record. But for some damn reason you couldn't move from your seat beside him. And that only had his smirk growing wider the moment he realized that you weren’t moving. 

His foot slid out, casually hooking around the leg of the barstool beside you before he pulled it out. Settling down into the seat and getting comfortable, one of his hands gestured at your beer that sat half-drunk in your nervous grip. 

“Why don't you finish that and I'll get you another, darlin’?” he suggested, arching one of his brows at you.

Slowly, you raised the bottle to your lips, drinking back more of the alcohol. Jax’s eyes creased at the corners as he leaned closer towards you, resting his elbows on the bar counter. 

“So, why don’t you go on and tell me more about how you’re not the kinda company I’m looking for tonight, darlin’?” he teased, that infuriatingly handsome smirk slipping back onto his lips.

[suhlogic]

paradise [kim mingyu x fem!oc]

summary: going to la union for a temporary escape from your busy city life was supposed to just be all about you, not until you meet a hot stranger at a bar and things escalate quite interestingly for the week.

warnings: slight age gap, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, creampie, size kink, praise kink, dry humping in a semi-public place, biting kink (slight), cum-eating

[🔞]

your city life proved to be exhausting, still navigating everything at 21 despite being independent and already moved out of your parents' house but the corporate life was a bitch to deal with on top of your mother nagging you to fulfill your filial duties as the eldest child to provide when they are still fully capable of supporting themselves and your younger sibling. so here you were, driving alone in your car on the way to la union to unplug for a week. the car ride was boring and tiring since your friends were all busy and you didn't want to ride a bus alone. finally, you arrived at your hotel early morning and got everything settled before you slept to make up for the exhaustion.

after a good few hours of decent sleep, you decide to get ready for the beach and put on a light red bikini that was just held together by strings that was properly showing off your huge tits. you also put on a skirt and a thin knitted coverup while your hair was up in a cute claw clip and grabbed your small tote bag on your way out to have some fun while the sun sets. as you reach the seaside, you decided to lay your towel on the sand and put your bag on it as you enjoyed swimming in the water basking in the sun.

[11:00pm]

after washing up back at your hotel room to grab dinner at the bar, you put on a pink dress with a thigh-high slit that was backless with just a pair of lace panties underneath. as you make your way into a chair by the bar counter and order your food, you mind your own business. after all, the fun doesn't start until the alcohol gives you enough courage to get fucked by a handsome stranger.

sipping on your cocktail was already affecting you and noticed that a tall handsome guy, with sharp gentle features and a short cropped haircut was eyeing you. his sun-kissed skin looking perfect under the strobing lights, athletically built body showing off through the shirt he's left the few buttons open with biceps practically begging to rip through its sleeves. but you weren't going to make it easy for him, catching his stares and waving back at the mystery guy. luring him to come over to your spot, and it fucking worked like magic.

his aura was intoxicating. the moment he leaned in to whisper something in your ear, he immediately had you hooked. "so what's a pretty girl like you doing in this place?" he smirked. you felt taken aback by his deep voice, his breath being minty with a hint of the gin and tonic he was drinking earlier. "just looking to have fun,although i've heard the real fun starts in the bedroom" you bite back with a smile from your pink glossy lips.

he laughed at the smooth rebuttal and reached his hand out to introduce himself, "feisty, i see...it's so rude that i didn't introduce myself. i'm mingyu by the way," he said. "and i'm _____," you shake his hand. "you know, i could show you a fun time what do you say?" his huge hand grabs the small of your back, the tension and close proximity making you yearn for his touch. the flashing lights and the music thumping on full blast against the speakers felt so right under the hot twinkling stars on a summer night,

"don't worry baby, they're too busy to care about what we're doing" he whispers as he holds you tighter and grinds his clothed member against your ass harder, "fuck, let's get out of here...my room." you whine as you begin to face him and grab his hand, leaving after paying your tabs.

once it was all settled, you and mingyu began to walk back to your hotel with hands intertwined together no one but the stars and the waves crashing against the shore witnessing romance brewing between the two of you as the music began to fade into the distance. the walk back to your place consisted of laughter and getting to know each other more, you began to learn that he was also getting away from the chaos of the city—family stuff, in his own words. not long after, the two of you made your way inside the elevator and pressed the floor where your room was.

you grab him by this nape and pull him in for a kiss, tasting your sweetness on his tongue and glistening pink lips which turns heated the moment your hands travel down his toned abs and into his boxers, feeling up his manhood—lengthy, thick and hard. you pull his pants down along with his underwear as his dick springs free slapping against his stomach past his belly button.

"will it fit?" you give him your best doe eyes as you begin to jerk him off, spreading his precum around the slit of his bulbous mushroom tip. "don't tease me, i need to be inside you now." he moans, the lust in his eyes darkening as he takes his dick in his hand and rubs it up and down your wet folds before inserting it slowly. his tip feeling hot and heavy against your wetness, moaning at how his dick feels inside you.

"didn't expect to pick up a hot stranger like you tonight..." you smirk, shifting to sit up on the bed while he grabs a towel to clean the both of you up and runs a bath. "i've had my eyes on you since you walked into the bar , i'm glad the night ended with you under me," he teasingly winks as he motions for you to come sit in between his legs and starts to wipe you down.

but mingyu couldn't help leaving slow and soft kisses down your cheeks and down your jawline as he cleans you up, "babe... don't start now, i can barely walk," you laugh, trying to suppress your moans. "i can carry you anywhere, don't worry," he whispers as you lean your neck to face him and pull him in for another kiss. after cleaning the two of you up, mingyu carries you in bridal style into the bathroom and helps you get into the bathtub and follows suit behind you and engulfs you in his warmth.

his biceps hugging you flush against his chest as you grab on his forearms biting at it softly and kissing it. you don't know if he''ll remain a stranger for the night or someone you'd be spending the rest of your life with but surely you hope it's the latter. he smirks at your antics and kisses your cheek, "happy 2nd anniversary, my love."

[elanorpam]

it's been way too long since i last did wildly self-indulgent fanart, so of course i did it for an SVSSS AU that doesn't even have any actual fanfiction written of it yet. but what can i say! it's a compelling scenario! Just check the original post for details!

here's a workplace doodle for his mess of an outfit, too:

Xin Mo is floating behind his back, wrapped in talismans. the collars are meant to be vaguely inspired on a flower bud.

Some notes i came up with for this version, copied straight from a month-old discord convo:

he may have protagonist halo now, but he's for sure not a stallion protagonist. he literally exchanged fates with his favorite person in the world in order to spare them a hellish trial-- that's romantic as fuck!! damn!! this is old CLAMP shoujo and no mistake!!

binghe may no longer be the protag, but he's still a half-heavenly demon. power-wise, heavenly demons can't be topped, and all the remaining heavenly demons are accounted for. so, SQQ can't be a heavenly demon, even in part.

HOWEVER, as a protagonist, there's a factor more important than power! it's the CHUUNI FACTOR. what's more CHUUNI™️ than being part demon?

one option is being part demon and part angel.

how would that even fucking work??????? IDK man, you can either pull from chinese folklore for fairies or heavenly beings or spirits, or you can blame Airplane and go "he accidentally implied the existence of christian elements by means of importing unexamined anime tropes"

Shen Jiu conveniently has a big fat blank on his parentage. We as fans can and have put whatever the hell we wanted there.

SQQ would jump into the abyss still under the impression SJ was a shallow villain. If his trip through the abyss involves recovering SJ's memories somehow, that sure would be fun times, huh?

so he awakens a mysterious ancestry and survives the abyss and takes Xin Mo, but he probably takes longer than Binghe did due to being squishier.

but Xin Mo isn't ACTUALLY his! so he papers it over with sealing talismans, and to battle the temptation to wield it he takes to wearing these longass sleeves. they're probably covered in talismans as well.

guessing Xiu Ya stayed behind to be mooned over by the clown trio in Cang Qiong. let's go full sparkle-sue here and say he's now fighting almost entirely via musical cultivation. i like swan-necked konghou harps so let's go with that, it'll look dope.

why is he barefoot? why WOULDN'T he be, is the question. fragile!! suffering!! dainty!! he's a shrinking flower, tormented by the weight of the One Sword To Rule Them All!!

also for extra pathos, his constant mental struggle against Xin Mo means he can't spare energy to front. it takes constant focus! he's still a bit in his delusional shit, but even when he's going "oh no, binghe is only latched throat-deep onto my dick because he's a good boy who's concerned about me and the danger i could pose by losing control" he'd probably… well, he'd probably say that out loud to anyone who asked. he's in a half-trance, mentally battling the crazy-making sword. lying is too much work.

Wouldn’t resisting Xin Mo’s influence be the mental and spiritual equivalent to training under 400x gravity or something? his wife-beam is going to be off the charts when he puts it down.

also also: who the hell dressed him like that? fucking shang qinghua, of course, after SQQ showed up in the northern palace to punish MBJ for hurting binghe in the conference. did the system explain shit to SQH? on the one hand, extremely funny if it updates him on the role change out of nowhere mid-alliance. on the other hand, extremely funny if he only finds out because Binghe is crying safely in Qing Jing while the scum villain apparently jumped into the abyss.

Here's another link to the original AU post! I've had it open on a tab all this time just so i could point to it when I was done, so make sure to check it out!

[winxanity-ii]

HANDSY

ship: gamer boyfriend!gojo x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering) word count: 3.3k A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before...

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, had beautiful hands—it was one of those subtle things you hadn't really noticed at first.

It wasn't until that one day, when you were out on a date, and Satoru had wiped a smudge of food from the corner of your lips, that something clicked.

The way his fingers brushed so effortlessly against your skin left you thinking about them long after.

Since then, you’d found yourself noticing more about his hands. The way they moved, their length—long, slender fingers with perfectly trimmed nails, always clean, the nail beds smooth.

His hands were... well, elegant.

They were the kind of hands that could ruin you.

This particular evening, the two of you were lounging in the living room. Satoru had his headset on, completely engrossed in some multiplayer game, while you were curled up at the other end of the couch, legs casually stretched across his lap.

You were working on some homework, your laptop beside you as every now and then, he'd hiss in frustration or shout some command into the mic, his voice sharp with focus.

Hours passed like this, with you finishing up your assignments. Satisfied, you wiggled your foot gently against Satoru's stomach to get his attention.

He looked over, blue eyes meeting yours as you mouthed, "I'm finished."

He gave you a quick nod, leaning over to cover his mic. "Give me a few more minutes," he whispered before diving back into his game.

Left with time to kill, you opened up a tab on your laptop and started reading... well, something a little more indulgent.

The smutty story had you wrapped up, but every now and then, you'd catch a glimpse of Satoru out of the corner of your eye. His curses and shouts grew louder as he scooted forward, completely focused, your feet trapped against his stomach as he leaned into the game.

That's when you found yourself staring at his hands again.

His fingers moved quickly over the controller, and without realizing it, that familiar warmth began to bubble in your stomach.

The fic had stirred something in you, but it was the sight of his hands, the way they gripped the controller, that sent your mind spiraling.

Thousands upon thousands of scenarios flashed through your head, ones you had no business thinking about while Satoru was so locked into his game.

You'd never thought of yourself as someone with a thing for hands... but here you were.

His fingers hovered over the game controller, each movement precise, quick. The way his thumbs grazed the buttons, the light tap of his fingers as they adjusted with every motion—it had your attention now.

His hands were large, the veins prominent as they flexed, each motion sending a ripple up his forearms.

They were graceful but strong, almost too perfect, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from them, not when he clicked through the game commands with that same fluidity.

Your mind wandered, drifting from the soft glow of the screen to something much more heated.

he way his fingers wrapped around the controller made your thoughts spiral into places they probably shouldn't have gone, at least not right now.

Images flickered in your mind, thoughts about what else those hands could do, how they might feel on you in... different ways.

Suddenly, a hand waved in front of your face, snapping you out of the fantasy. "Huh?" You blinked, looking up to find Satoru grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've been calling your name for the past minute."

You hadn't even noticed, lost so deep in your own thoughts that you missed the world around you.

His right hand dropped from the controller, settling on your thigh as he gave it a gentle squeeze, emphasizing the point.

Though the gesture shouldn’t have flustered you, a rush of heat crept up your neck, your face suddenly feeling like it was on fire.

Satoru tilted his head, watching you with a curious glint in his eyes. "What's gotten your attention, hmm?" he asked, his voice playful as he set the controller aside on the coffee table.

You shifted a little, trying to look away, but your gaze kept straying back to his hands, still resting casually on your thigh.

You swallowed hard, your mind still lingering on everything you shouldn’t be thinking about. "N-nothing," you managed to stutter, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you. It was lame, and you knew it.

He raised a brow, genuinely confused now, leaning forward slightly. "Nothing? You've been staring at me like I've grown a second head," he teased, clearly not buying your weak excuse. His fingers twitched against your thigh, and you felt the warmth of his touch spreading through your skin like wildfire.

You tried to laugh it off, but it came out nervous and awkward.

Satoru frowned, scooting closer to you, his attention now fully on you instead of the game. "Hey," he murmured, reaching over to gently grip the bottom of your chin with his long fingers. His touch was soft but firm enough to guide your gaze back to him. "Look at me."

Your heart skipped a beat as his hand cradled your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The confusion melted into something a bit more focused as his thumb brushed along your jawline. "What's wrong?" His voice dropped lower, softer, as if he were trying to coax the answer out of you.

You didn't respond right away, your throat suddenly dry. His hand, now cupping your face, felt impossibly warm, and your mind raced with thoughts that made your pulse quicken.

Before you could stop yourself, your gaze flickered back down to his hand again.

Satoru noticed.

Of course he noticed.

He tilted his head, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His thumb paused against your skin, and he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Oh?" he whispered, his voice taking on a playful, knowing tone. "Is it my hands?"

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat flare up all over again. He chuckled, low and teasing, as he moved his hand just slightly, the pad of his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "You've been staring at them for a while now… want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You didn't have to answer for him to know. His gaze softened, though there was a spark of mischief in his eyes as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Would you like to feel them somewhere else?"

Your mouth opened slightly, only to close again as words failed you. All you could do was stare into Satoru's eyes, feeling your pulse quicken as he pulled back just enough to get a better look at your face.

His gaze was dark, half-lidded, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks—a rare sight for someone so confident, but it only made him more alluring. He watched you with that mischievous smile, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

"Perhaps here?" he murmured, his hand sliding down from your waist and splaying across your lower abdomen. His fingers rested dangerously close to your center, the heat of his touch sending a shiver through your body.

A small gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it, and instinctively, your legs snapped shut, trapping his hand between your thighs.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but Satoru didn't seem fazed.

Instead he purred, the sound low and smooth. "I won't, not if you don't want me to,” he said, voice gentle but teasing. His free hand, the one not caught between your legs, moved up to cup your neck tenderly.

His fingers brushed against your skin, sending another wave of warmth coursing through you as he tilted your head back ever so slightly.

His lips hovered just above the apex of your jaw, the faintest brush of contact making your breath hitch. He nuzzled there, his warm breath fanning across your skin, causing your eyes to flutter shut for just a moment.

His hand, still resting against your lower abdomen, didn't move, but it was enough to keep your heart racing.

Satoru's touch was firm but so soft, his thumb brushing against the side of your neck as he continued to nuzzle along your jawline. "You just have to say the word..." he whispered, his voice melting into your ear.

Your breath hitched as the weight of the moment settled in, and before you could even think, a soft, stuttered "y-yes" escaped your lips.

That was all Satoru needed.

In an instant, he was on you like a man starved, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that took your breath away. It wasn’t gentle or slow—it was heated, hurried, like he’d been holding back for too long.

He ripped off the headset, tossing it aside without a second thought, and in one smooth motion, he was reaching for your laptop.

You let out a short, breathless giggle as he fumbled to set it safely on the coffee table, but the sound barely left your mouth before Satoru silenced you with another strong kiss. His lips were demanding, stealing the air from your lungs, as if he needed this more than anything.

His hands moved quickly, one gripping your hip with a firmness that made your heart race, the other tangling itself in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back so he could deepen the kiss.

The way his lips moved against yours was raw, almost frantic, like he was drowning and you were the only thing that could save him.

His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and when you opened up for him, a deep groan rumbled in his chest as he kissed you even harder, pressing you back against the couch cushions.

Every touch from him was electric. His hands roamed, sliding up your sides, then back down to grip your hips as he pulled you closer, needing you pressed against him.

His kisses were messy, heated, filled with an intensity that made your skin flush.

You felt like you were on fire, and each second his lips were on yours only fanned the flames higher.

Satoru shifted, leaning in more, his body practically covering yours as his hand slipped down to the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your lower abdomen, and your breath hitched again, a shaky exhale escaping as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck.

He kissed along your jawline, nipping at the sensitive skin as his hand teased at the edge of your shorts, but he didn't move any further—not yet.

He was savoring this moment, taking his time to build the tension as his lips continued to trail down your neck, each kiss, nip, and graze of his teeth leaving your skin tingling in their wake.

Your breathing grew more ragged as his fingers finally slipped beneath the fabric, tugging your shorts down slowly, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he pulled them past your hips.

You squirmed slightly, the sensation of his cool fingers against the warmth of your skin making you more aware of just how exposed you were becoming.

With one smooth movement, Satoru pulled your shorts all the way off, dropping them carelessly to the floor before his attention returned to you.

His lips continued their journey, trailing down your stomach before finally reaching your thighs. He nipped at your skin, soft bites that had your breath catching in your throat.

You could feel the heat of his breath as he kissed along the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of electricity through your body. He took his time, savoring every inch of your thighs, his lips brushing dangerously close to the edge of your underwear.

By the time he pulled back, your entire body felt like it was humming, your heart racing as he moved you. In one fluid motion, he gripped your hips and tugged you closer to the edge of the sofa, so that your legs hung off the arm of the couch, feet barely grazing the floor.

The shift made you feel vulnerable, laid out beneath him in nothing but your underwear, with Satoru towering over you, eyes dark and focused.

You could feel the heat pooling in your cheeks as his hungry gaze lingered, tracing over every inch of your body like he was committing it to memory.

Your face burned under his scrutiny, the silence between you both thick with tension. The longer he stared, the more embarrassed you felt, a soft blush spreading across your skin.

You huffed out his name, nudging him lightly with your leg in an attempt to break the tension. "Satoru…"

He didn't respond at first, but the way his lips curled into a small, knowing smirk told you he heard. Instead of pulling away or offering any comfort, he tightened his grip on your thighs, hands firm but gentle as he held you down, making sure you couldn’t move.

"Stay still," he murmured, his voice lower than usual, a commanding edge to it. His thumbs pressed into your skin just enough to make your pulse jump, and you bit your lip, feeling that heat rise even more.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, his eyes half-lidded and filled with an intensity that made your breath catch. "I'm not done looking yet," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

The heat in your face spread to the rest of your body as Satoru leaned forward, taking a deep breath that caused your breath to hitch.

"Satoru!" you squealed out, your voice a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

He didn't even acknowledge your reaction. Instead, he did it again, slower this time, but now it was followed by a low, deep groan that seemed to vibrate right through you.

A soft, needy whine escaped you as you called out his name again, this time unsure, almost pleading. "Satoru…"

He looked up, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips as he met your gaze. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice a teasing lilt, though his gaze was dark and intent. He didn't stop, didn't let go of you. Instead, his fingers dug into your skin, just enough to keep you exactly where he wanted, completely pinned under him. "You sound like you want something," he murmured, dipping his head again, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't respond, unable to form the words as the heat building inside you clouded your thoughts, but Satoru didn't need you to.

He already knew.

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned down again and this time, delivered a long swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your underwear to the top.

The sudden warmth of his tongue through the thin fabric made your thighs twitch involuntarily, and you bit your lip hard to stifle a moan. He continued lapping at you, slow and deliberate, his tongue dragging up and down your core with an intensity that left you trembling beneath him.

You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending in your body lit up as he worked through the fabric.

The dampness of your underwear only seemed to spur him on, and after a few more agonizing moments, Satoru finally pulled the soaked fabric down, the wetness making it almost transparent as he discarded it carelessly to the side.

Before you could process the next wave of embarrassment, he was back on you, his mouth quickly attaching to your nub. Your thighs twitched again, but this time he gripped them harder, holding you down as his mouth continued its assault.

His fingers teased at your entrance, tracing along your slit before finally slipping inside with ease, his movements confident and sure. Satoru moved with precision, as if he knew exactly what would make you fall apart. He easily found your g-spot, and you couldn't help but let out a low moan as he began to work it in slow, deliberate circles.

He added a second finger without hesitation, curling them perfectly to coax even more pleasure from you. He continued to whisper praises, kissing up your body until his breath was hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

His white hair laid disheveled, clinging to his forehead in strands. His lips were parted slightly, swollen from the intensity of your earlier kisses, his eyes dark with focus and desire.

"Gods, look at you," he breathed, sending a rush of heat straight through you. His thumb grazed your clit, teasing you as his fingers moved deeper inside, curling just right, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. "You're so beautiful like this... so responsive for me…" His words came out in a low murmur, each one laced with adoration, as if he were marveling at the way your body moved for him.

You could hardly breathe, the sensation so overwhelming that it made your breaths come out in shaky, ragged gasps. He was driving you closer and closer, every touch setting your nerves on fire.

"Good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers moved with practiced ease. "You're taking my fingers so well…" His voice was low, the praise making your heart race.

His free hand trailed up your body, tracing along your ribs before settling gently on your throat, not squeezing, just holding you, grounding you in the moment.

His eyes were low, pupils blown wide as he took in the sight of your face, watching the way your expression shifted under his touch. He could feel you getting closer, the way your breath hitched, the way your body responded to every movement of his fingers.

Without even realizing it, Satoru's hips began to move against you, grinding lightly against the side of your body as he sought his own relief.

He was focused entirely on your reactions; the way you clenched around his fingers, the way your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths—it was everything to him.

His lips found their way to the curve of your neck, and he lingered there, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Such a good girl… letting me have you like this."

The way he spoke to you, the way his fingers moved inside you, made you feel like you were driving you closer to the edge.

"I-I could stay like this forever," he murmured against your skin, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke. His voice was thick with desire, but there was a teasing lilt to it, something playful that made your pulse quicken. "Watching you fall apart just for me."

His hips continued to grind against you, but his focus remained entirely on you. He could feel how close you were, the way your body tensed, the way you trembled beneath him. His grip tightened slightly as he quickened his pace, driving you to the very brink.

His mouth was at your ear again, his voice a low purr, sending a fresh wave of anticipation through you. "Think you can handle three next time?" he whispered, his breath ragged and filled with desire, hips stuttering in tempo. "I-I'll stretch you out so good… I p-promise... make you perfect for me."

And that was all it took.

With his fingers curling inside you one last time, pushing you to that edge, the tension that had been coiling in your body snapped.

When you finally came down, still trembling and breathless, Satoru pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with satisfaction.

He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek, his expression now softened with affection. "You did so well," he whispered, brushing a thumb across your flushed skin. His lips curled into a teasing grin, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I hope you liked my fingers," he murmured against your ear, "because you're going to like my dick even more."

A/N: hi guys! just decided to combine my alt account and main one... and if youre wondering why this even got to the point, long story short, i was kind of embarressed/unsure if i'd do a good job/know how to write smut but i'm pleasently surprised to see that people enjoy it, so i'll stay posting on here as well... i'll probably just can/save my alt account as a backup tho...

[p0rk-guts]

Velvette if she served cunt

Design breakdown below 👇🏾(BEWARE IT'S VERY LONG)

Alright going into detail about my gripes and edits. Like Velvette but her design is just. Not good to me. None of her (main) outfit details look like they fit to me— pinstripe pants + long fur coat paired with black crop top and scene sleeves? Skull earrings? TINKERBELL HEELS????? Tell me how any of that meshes well or even makes SENSE for the social media influencer persona she's supposed to have going on. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be clown themed... But I'm just gonna toss that idea out bc being a revered social media influencer and a clown at the same time just seems a bit oxymoronic to me, and the "clown" details aren't adding shit for me.

And don't think I forgot about her features. Pale ash grey skin and wavy hair at best. If she was supposed to be some type of creature where a nonhuman skin tone would make sense then maybe I could let it go?? But as far as I can tell she doesn't have an object or creature or animal theme like the other V's and if she does I shouldn't need to do detective work to figure it out. There is no reason for *any* of these poc characters to have grey skin, especially since they don't have any other poc features at all.

Sorry that shit gets me heated anyways. Onto my redesign. Gave her a more obviously black skin tone and textured hair bc I love a 30 inch buss down as much as the next girl but considering how there are no significant poc cast members with visibly textured hair I think she deserves to flaunt some coils if no one else will.

Ngl I'm not. A fashion girlie. Idk what's trendy idk what screams "influencer" so a lot of this was just throwing shit at the wall that I've seen around recently but it looks cute enough to me. And there was a bit of inspiration taken from Aliyahcore and ghetto fabulous fashion ❤️

If you can't tell this is shamefully inspired by lovesart23's Velvette reimagining because imo they had some outstanding ideas for Vel. I low-key stole their idea for those floating eyes in her hair that follow her around and help her keep tabs on shit it was just a superb idea for a social media overlord to me. I also took some inspo from @furbtasticworksofart 's redesign because vampire influencer sucking up the souls of her followers in exchange for content??? Too good (also the eyes were supposed to have bat/vamp wings I just forgot 😭) So yeah she's a vampire demon now. Without the features she was looking too human anyhow. Maybe she also feeds off of the energy of her followers through tech like after Vox mind controls them or whatever... Idk idk is that anything

Speaking of Vox, the screen glasses are meant to connect her to him w/ their color and shape while serving the purpose of being like a second phone she can post and check the web with. Like lovesart said in their reimagining vid, Vel doesn't really do more than pose for selfies and scroll on her phone when it comes to social media so in my head she's constantly flipping her shades on and off, using them to scroll and stay active, and they can show when she's not paying attention or respect to something/someone bc scrolling is more worth her time in the moment.

The hearts everywhere are also supposed to kinda represent social media likes + connect her back to Val w/ his heart patterns. That might've been what the hearts in her og design were for but. I just didn't like their placement bc I'm a nitpicker and a hater❕

I have so much more I could say about possible ideas for Velvette because I love evil black girls and I only want them to succeed in my media and I could treat her so much BETTER but I'll refrain bc this is way too long anyway.

Alright for reading/scrolling through all that rambling I offer you the sketches + some alt hair ideas I had

P.S. I'm very open to constructive criticism but if I see anyone just dick riding in my replies or rb's I'm just blocking you on sight ✌🏾

[whorekneecentral]

A New Term

Professor!Mark Webber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: age gap (mark is in his 40s, reader is early 20s), taboo content!! - professor x college student, worried mark, sharing a cookie, suggestive behaviour from mark, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), bruising but in a sexual context, cum play, finger sucking.

Word Count: 2,379

Author's Note: mark always had professor vibes to me, he's so dilf.

merry smutmas series

--

You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else.

The end of semester assignment kept you up way past your bedtime, the one question kept you on your toes. Your hand passed through your hair while you searched through your email for your professor's email.

Instead of using your winter break to unwind like most of your classmates, you were cracking out assignment after assignment, trying to get as much done as possible - that way you can focus on the exams when you return from the winter break.

The tab open to send your physics professor an email.

Dear Professor Webber,

I hope you're having a nice winter break and I hope I'm not disturbing you.

I had a question regarding the final assignment you gave out prior to the break; the last part of the assignment doesn't line up with the rest.

I'm not sure if I'm misunderstanding something along the way but it doesn't seem to make any sense. Hopefully you can provide me with some clarification?

Hoping to hear from you soon and again, I do apologize if this was a disturbance to your break.

Thank you,

Y/n L/n.

You shut the tab, sitting there for a bit as you tried to go back over your notes and make sense of the assignment, hoping you could figure it out in case Professor Webber doesn't answer anytime soon.

There's a ping sound coming from your laptop, the screen lighting up as you get a response from your professor.

Dear Y/n,

You're never a bother, you know my email is always open to my students, especially one as sweet and smart as you.

I hope you're getting some rest during this break and not overworking yourself.

As for your question about the assignment, I've looked it over and I see that there are some errors, I will have to email the other students and let them know. Thank you for pointing it out but if you'd still like to go over the assignment, how about we meet up sometimes? Perhaps tomorrow around 4 if you're free? I'll be in town.

Let me know, please do get some rest at some point.

All the best,

Professor Mark Webber,

Department of Physics.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the praise, something that happens often in the presence of your favourite physics professor. You send him back a quick response.

Hi professor,

Thank you for the quick response, I promise I am getting some rest. I would like to finish up what I can over the break so I can focus on exams come January.

Tomorrow at 4 would be great, how about we meet at the coffee shop around the corner from campus?

Thanks,

Y/n.

---

Four o'clock had come and passed, you had been there since 3:30, working away on your assignment. You occupied a booth in the back, your laptop in front of you, backpack tossed next to you and your notes and textbooks scattered all over the table.

Your head was buried in your textbook, searching for a certain passage to quote in your essay. Mark had entered the coffee shop and spotted you in the back corner.

His hand reached over, gently prying the textbook out of your hand. The action startled you for a moment but you relaxed when you saw who was across from you.

"Hi professor," you smiled, closing the tab on your laptop. Mark smiles at you, "please, we're not in class, y/n. You can call me Mark."

You nod, "okay Mark." Your nose scrunched, making a face. "Yeah no, that seems weird," you giggled, watching as he shut your textbook and left it on the table.

Mark says, "have you slept?"

"What?" You asked him, confused.

"You look tired, I hope you're not overworking yourself."

"Oh no," you shook your head, "I'm fine."

Mark nods, "fine, if you say so. Let me buy you a coffee - or rather not, you seem to have already had your coffee fill for the day." He glances at the two empty mugs on the table.

There's a small smile on your face, "yeah perhaps coffee wouldn't be the smartest idea."

"Something else then?" He suggested and you hum, "maybe a chocolate chip cookie? oh and maybe apple juice?"

Mark chuckles, nodding as he slides out of his seat. You watch as he walks the counter, ordering what you wanted and  a coffee for himself before returning to the table.

You thank him, eating your cookie quietly as you searched for the pages you had written out with your assignment on it. You catch Mark staring at you, you figured it was just cause you looked frazzled or perhaps you had chocolate on your face.

You hadn't realized that the man was simply looking at you in adoration, you never thought that he'd see you in that way.

"What??" You asked, looking at him. You passed a hand over your lips, "is there something on my face?"

He shook his head, " no, you're perfect.. as always."

You smiled, cheeks flushed red. "Would you like a piece?" You held your cookie out to the man, assuming that he'd break a piece of it off but he leans over, taking a bite of the cookie.

Setting the cookie down, you take a sip of your juice and finally find the pages you were looking for. Mark listens as you explain your concerns to him, the man helping you sort through your issues with the assignment. Mark goes as far as to help you edit what you have so far.

"Is that all?" He asks, watching as you pack your things into your bag. "Yeah, that was it. Thank you so much for your help, professor."

"No trouble at all, sweetheart." He smiles, the two of you stand and head towards the exit. It wasn't until you got there that you realized the rain had come down.

You didn't live far from the coffee shop, about a 10 minute walk but you did happen to forget your umbrella at home that day.

"Are you walking?" Mark asks and you nod, "it's not that far."

"Please, it's pouring, y/n. Let me drive you home."

"I've imposed on your afternoon for long enough, you don't have to do that."

Mark shakes his head, "I cannot, in good conscience, leave you to walk in the rain. Let me drive you home, I'm offering so you're not imposing."

You give in, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you to his car. It's black inside and out, the leather matching the colour of the paint and the smell was beyond manly - exactly like your professor.

With your directions, he drives you back to your place. The rain pouring down on the car, the heavy rain drops make a sound as it hits the glass. "Thank you for the ride," you tell him, glancing over at him.

"Wait a moment, won't you? I'm sure the rain will settle in the moment. I don't want you to get your beg wet and ruin all your work," he says, the words coming out innocently enough.

You nod, watching as the rain drips down the windows. You feel something warm on your thigh, glancing down you see Mark's hand resting there. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, not noticing his hand slipping a bit higher.

"You know, you really should get some rest, sweetheart. Try and relax. You deserve it after all your hard work."

You nod, "I'll try."

He smiles, leaning into you as you look over at him. "Good girl."

The words hit you exactly where he expected them too, watching you shift in your seat. "Is something wrong, sweetheart?"

"N-no, sir."

He hums, a smirk playing on his lips as he moves closer; you can smell his cologne, the mint of his toothpaste, the coffee from not too long ago. Mark closes the gap between the two of you, his lips meeting yours.

As much as you enjoyed the feeling, you froze - your brain screaming no, big red letters flashing in your head but you ignored them.

Mark senses your hesitancy, pulling away from you. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's.." You pause for a moment, "it's fine. Do you want to come in?" You asked him, hoping he says yes otherwise you'd probably have to bury your head in shame.

Mark nods, the man following you up the stairs and into your apartment. "Sorry for the mess," you tell him as you unlock the door, stepping in to take your shoes off.

He looks around, confused as to where the mess would be. The place was spic and span, not a single thing out of place. Your apartment is decorated like one of those Hallmark movies, Christmas tree in the corner by the window, garland wrapped around whatever it could be, even the throw pillows on your couch were festive.

"Where's the mess, sweetheart?"

You nod towards the one singular mug that was on the coffee table, "I forgot it there last night."

Mark can't help but laugh. "That's a single cup, y/n. Most uni students live in shitty apartments with beer bottles and weed. This place is a palace compared to everywhere else."

You smile, walking further into your apartment. "Would you like something to drink?"

Mark senses your nervousness, resting his hands on your arms. "Relax, y/n. It's fine."

You visibly let out a breath, holding onto the man as he walks you to the couch. He sits you down, his hand now cupping your jaw when he leans down to kiss you.

"Will you let me help you relax?" He whispers against your lips and you nod, not having to think about it for once.

The clothes are tossed all over the living room, you’re leaning on the arm rest of the couch in your panties when Mark kisses you again.

The man drops down to his knees in front of you, your legs over his shoulder and he kisses down your calf, to your thigh before he gets to your pussy. You lift your hips, letting him take your panties off, tossing it along with the other clothes. 

His nose brushes against your clit, his tongue licking a stripe up your cunt. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Mark’s hand on your hip rocks you back and forth slightly, just enough that he can hear his name fall from your lips. “Mark- fuck, there.” You pull on his hair, getting him to do what he did again. 

The sound of his name rolling off your tongue was enough to make his cock twitch.

He mimicked his actions again until he could feel your legs shake, your grip on his hair tighter than before, his name strung along with the explicits leaving your mouth. 

Mark glances up, your eyes shut and your head tossed back and he can't help but smile; he’s broken you down to nothing but a whimpering mess but he wasn’t done with you just yet. 

Your cheeks are red when you see him sit up, the lower half of his face glistening. You also can’t help yourself when you pull him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on him. 

You two shuffle around a bit, still on the couch when Mark flips you over; face down, ass up as he settles before you. Your back arches, the curve of your spine evident when he comes up behind you, pushing back against him as you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy. 

Mark’s hand grips your hips, pulling you back against him. Your moans are muffled by the couch when you feel him stretch you out. 

“God, please Mark, like that,” the words tumble out, begging him for more as he fucks you. His hands squeezing your hips, nails digging into your flesh. You can feel the pressure from his fingers, surely there were going to be bruises tomorrow. Your hand reaching under you, fingers barely reaching to rub your clit.

He pulls you up, his arm wrapped around your middle, your back pressed to his chest. His fingers dig into your side for a moment, squeezing you a bit. “Such a good girl for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear. 

“Mhm hm,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. 

Between the angle you were at and his hand sliding down to rub on your clit, your head drops back onto his shoulder, begging him to let you cum.

“Mark, god- fuck, let me cum please,” you ramble out and Mark hums, kissing along your jaw, “mhm I'm not stopping you, sweetheart.”

He lets you drop back onto your arms, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Mark cums too. 

The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.

He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Mark pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends. 

You lay there for a while, Mark on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum, one of his hands on your tit. 

"Next time you need some relaxing, you call me, okay?" He whispers, his finger dragging down your side.

You glance at the man, a raised eyebrow. "You just want to fuck me again, you dirty old man."

Mark laughs, "no, I mean yes but also no. I meant I'd take you to dinner or something, distract you from your work - but if you want to fuck, who am I to deny a beautiful woman like yourself?"

---

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hiiiii!!! I just wanted to ask for some fluffy HCs with Slender, please and thank you!! <3

I hope you enjoy these very long Slender rambles <3

I've had this idea for a little while, but we all know Slender communicates through people's minds, and I'm just imagining him keeping a sort of open "channel" for you and you taking advantage of it. He can open and close "channels" which are essentially how he communicates with people, and when he doesn't want to read someone's mind or talk to them through their mind he closes their channel, but he pretty much always leaves yours open. This allows you the opportunity to pester him constantly, which you obviously take advantage of. He could be working on countless business papers, and you just start rambling in your mind about Tiktok drama you saw, and he just has to sigh and rest his head in his palm while he tries to keep reading his paperwork because he knows if he closes your channel you'll be sad at him for ignoring you. You're in the middle of dinner with everyone and he's trying to listen to everyone that's talking and you're just making eye contact with him from across the table mentally rambling about things when you KNOW he's trying to listen to someone else. Always pester the noodle man, because he won't stop you and it's amusing to watch him try to ignore it.

I sort of rambled the other day about Slender being chronically bad with technology, and now I just wanna ramble about it more, in connection with the first one. He knows BEN and the others will make fun of him directly to his face if he asks them for help, so he always calls upon you to be the one to help him figure out different things. He calls you in an absolute panic freaking out because he accidentally deleted a huge amount of a report he was typing, and you have to try and explain that he can just hit command z to undo it, and he freezes for a moment. You think you can finally leave and get back to your own business but then he panics and yells, "WHICH BUTTON IS THE COMMAND BUTTON?? IS IT THE BUTTON WITH THE MOST AUTHORITY?? WHICH ONE IS THAT??" Really fast before you can just tell him to calm down and actually show him which button it is. He accidentally shuts off his brightness one day and panics because now his screen is pitch black and he can't figure out what he did wrong, and you have to teach him about it. I'm also just imagining you having to teach him about bookmarks because he would absolutely have hundreds of tabs open. You look at his screen and discover he's never closed a single tab, he just reopens another version of an old one he can't find. He always apologizes for things like this but sometimes it's just so exasperating.

I feel like Slender wants to be included in things, but he had no idea how to ask without anybody possibly thinking he was weird in the beginning. The mansion has so many nights where everyone is doing different things, like book club night, game night, movie night, and yeah he's there for all of those, but he doesn't really know how to get involved because despite Slender being their Boss and Father FigureTM, he was still quite shy about getting involved in things because he feels like he's too old and he doesn't understand things. Game nights are the worst because he always wants to play whatever they're playing but he doesn't know how to ask without feeling like the "How do you do, fellow kids?" meme. They're playing Mario Kart and he's sitting there awkwardly wanting to ask to race but he doesn't even know how to use a Switch controller, much less even play Mario Kart. I feel like eventually, it got to the point where someone (likely BEN) noticed and invited him over, and now I have the cute image in my head of them all teaching him how to hold the very tiny remote in his hands and which buttons to press, and all of them going easy so he can complete a race with them and he's SO HAPPY???? Next game night they ask Slender to teach them games he played growing up with his brothers and his heart melts from it. I'm also imagining him letting them pick which book to read for book club and it's some cheesy new romance book and he's just discussing this very Not SlenderTM romance book with them and still being so excited about it. Jane picks "The Notebook" at movie night at they make Slender sit in the middle and he's just crying along with all of them. Just very soft Slender learning how to be included in modern things with everyone time and now he's always included in everything.

[roadkillremi]

Kinktober '23

5 out of 11

Consent Non-Consent

Billy Loomis X F!Reader

MasterList. Kinktober '23

Summary : Billy and Stu got away with the murders. Billy and you share a small trailer, after an argument Billy shows you how much he loves you.Characters are 18+. Pre-established relationship.

Warnings : MINORS DNI, Angst, p in V, fighting, language, degrading, unprotected sex. Yelling at Billy.

You lounged on his couch watching Friday The 13th Part 2. He didn't say much, he walked back and forth from the kitchen and living room. The smell of butter overruled the house. A soft, "shit" was muttered from the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" You called out.

"Yeah" he walked out holding a bowl of popcorn. He held two beers between his arms and torso. He put the bowl on your lap before plopping down beside you. He handed you a beer while staring at the TV. You took the beer and sighed audibly.

"What is it?" He glanced over before focusing back on the movie. You popped the tab open, "It's Saturday the 14th.".

"I said sorry." He muttered. You took a sip of your beer, "You said we'd watch it together.".

"Stu needed me?"

"To what? Suck his dick?-" you spat. He stared at you, his eyes were cold and soulless. He was always with Stu now, never you. You wanted him to be with you, you huffed.

"Whatever.".

"You're pathetic." He whispered. The venom of his voice stung, you slammed the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. You stomped off to the kitchen, Billy sighed following you.

"What's your problem?" He slammed his hands on the counter. You rolled your eyes, "You! You're the problem!". He blankly stared at you, "You're always with him! Never with me!" You continued.

"You're being dra-"

"Shut up!" You yelled. He brows knitted, he gripped the counter tightly.

"You're always with Stu! When's the last time we went on a date?! Or We had sex! You always sleep on the couch! Never in bed with me! Or when you'd just fuck me, with no warning! I want that again!" Your face went hot due to shouting. Billy just stared at you, "I'm sorry.". You shook your head, "I.. you know how Stu can be. Ever since Sydney's dad he-".

"I know." You interrupted. Billy stared at you, studying your body language. You didn't believe him, he gritted his teeth.

"He misses Tatum and wants company that's all." He crossed his arms. You sighed, "I'm sorry..".

"I get it. I've been away, but he needs me.".

"...I need you-"

"I'm sorry, okay!" He yelled. You jumped back, "I'm working all the damn time! Stus grieving or some shit! And you're going to the community college!". Billy stepped closer to you, "I'm trying.".

"I know. You... You just break your promises." You defended. He sucked his teeth, "I'm sorry..". You looked down at his shoes, his worn out docs. He stepped even closer causing you to look up at him.

"It's fine.".

They stepped closer, he hugged you. You leaned into him, you didn't like fighting with him. You felt horrible, you knew he was trying but you needed him. He kissed the top of your head, "Go get ready for bed...".

You nodded walking to your bedroom, you shifted through the laundry. You put on the cleanest pajamas you could find. You shuffled to the bathroom grabbing your toothbrush. You turned the faucet on, wetting your toothbrush. Billy leaned against the doorway, his shirt was gone. You glanced over at him, "What?".

"You're so beautiful." He whispered. You put toothpaste on your toothbrush, "If you're trying to sweet talk to me it's not working.". He walked into the bathroom standing behind you.

"what are you-"

"Brushing my teeth." He muttered. He leaned over you to grab his toothbrush. His crotch pushing against your ass. You ignored it and brushed your teeth. He brushed his behind you, he'd glance down at you. The white toothpaste bubbling out of the corners of your mouth. You'd spit into the sink bending over a bit. Billy gently slid his hand on your hip. You ignored it again, you brushed your teeth over once more. Billy slowly unbuckled his pants as silently as possible. You brushed your tongue causing you to gag a bit. Billy twitched, he forced your hips against the counter.

"Ow!" You groaned looking back at him. He stared into your eyes, his cock waiting to devour you. You blinked, "Billy..". He shoved your shorts down and parted your legs.

"Keep doing what you're doing." His words slurred due to his toothbrush. You nodded trying to brush your teeth. He dragged himself through before thrusting in. He groaned with pleasure, his toothbrush hung on the corner of his mouth. The counter pushes into your hips causing a mark. You squirmed pushing yourself back, he huffed gripping your hips. He leaned over pushing all your makeup and toiletries to the floor. He picked you up laying your torso on the counter. He held your hips up thrusting into you.

He didn't say much, he stared into your eyes. A soft smirk formed as he watched your face contort with pleasure. He leaned down over your body, his lip grazed over your ear.

"Is this what you missed?" He whispered. You opened your mouth to speak but just moaned. He smiled, "Not much to say now, huh?". You curled your lips together, "Fuck you". He chuckled, "That's what we're doing". You let out groan trying to hold in your moans. He snickered, he pulled his tooth brush out of his mouth.

"Here. Since you wanna be an ungrateful whore." He shoved his tooth brush in your mouth. He smirked as he pulled your hips towards him.

"Never.." he slammed into your core. He backed up a bit, "Yell... At me... Again.". He slammed into between each breath. You nodded, he grabbed your chin.

"What do you say?" He took his toothbrush out of your mouth. You breathed heavily, "I'm sorry, sir... I won't do it again.". He smiled, "that's more like it..".

Tag list -

@hurlonsororitygirls @sanzumylovee @katie-tibo @horneybeach1 @ithinkitszeph

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part five

part six: with the wilt of the rose

With the success of Eddie's Steve single as his bandmates had started to call it, the label had basically told Corroded Coffin in no uncertain terms to channel that energy into the rest of their album. It wasn't that Eddie didn't like the attention his song was getting and Steve absolutely deserved it, the lying piece of shit, but it was like getting permission to write angsty music about Steve took all the fun out of it. He was fully out of inspiration of the angst variety and had taken a hard left turn into moping, feeling sorry for himself, and being one thousand percent convinced that he was going to be single for the rest of his life and die alone.

Eddie was reclining in his giant beanbag chair (his nest as Steve used to joke with him), occasionally humming lines, strumming on his guitar, and writing more and more pathetically dramatic lyrics for most of the day until he reached his limit and pulled out his phone. It wasn't like Eddie was purposefully keeping track of people in Steve's life but over the time they were together his little gaggle of gremlins wormed his way into Eddie's life too. Unfortunately when he opened his phone it was to tweets of Dustin going low key feral over Steve's new role in some indie biopic but at the same time being crazy upset that Steve would be incommunicado as Dustin so helpfully added in his tweet. The kid was such a dweeb. Eddie flicked out of twitter and opened instagram hoping that his feed would be mostly possum memes. He scrolled idly for a while seeing new tattoo ideas and of course many cute furry animals doing many silly things until suddenly he was reminded of a particular face Steve made and Eddie (although he would never admit this) searched for Steve's public profile only a little disappointed that he hadn't posted anything more recent than when the two were together.

Because Eddie may or may not be a massive masochist and can't leave well enough alone, he decides to tab over to Steve's tagged pictures to see if there is anything recent. In between several tags of Steve being unfairly good looking in whatever movie he was currently filming, Eddie was taken aback by a post that was just of Robin and Nancy. They looked a little closer than just gal pals or whatever it was the tabloids called them while speculating how they could be friends while "fighting" over Steve. So much for modern feminism.

Before Eddie got distracted enough to go through a full rant that might include a fairly long section about how Ronnie was treated differently than the rest of his bandmates, Eddie focused back on the issue at hand. Why was Nancy who he highly suspected of stealing his fucking boyfriend posing like she was getting engaged to Steve's best friend. And why did they fucking tag him it it? Robin was snarky sure but she didn't seem like that level of bitch. Eddie took a deep breath and opened the fairly lengthy caption to see:

nancywheeler Hello World! It's been a long time coming but I am so excited to publicly announce that me and Robin (@buckster) are going steady. I know I don't post a whole lot about my person life on here (seriously, the rest of the world is so much more exciting) but you've always been so supportive of my coming out and sexuality related posts as well as understanding when I needed to set a boundary between my personal life and my online persona. I've been unable to share my most recent relationship for a really long time because of the public pressure of coming out and being a "marketable asset." Steve (@sharrington) could not have been a better support during this time and took a lot of public flak to keep Robin and I safe and comfortable until we were ready to be out publicly. He always offered up his home while I was visiting and kept me company while Robin was working. I guess us bi guys have to stick together, huh? Anyways, that's all for now. And no, we aren't engaged (yet 😈)

Eddie was floored. He had spent all his time since leaving Steve's apartment feeling very holier than thou and smug about everything that happened with Steve and the success his band was experience because of it. Although if one Miss Nancy Wheeler was telling the truth (which like as a journalist Eddie thinks she has to), Steve was actually helping his platonic soulmate find love with his exgirlfriend. If Eddie hadn't already felt kind of shitty for assuming the worst about Steve, this had to take the fucking cake. Eddie was truly done for. Put a fork in him. He's the worst person ever. Fuck. He needed reinforcements.

devilededs: uhm hi friends, i think maybe i am the asshole in the whole steve situation can u come to mine?

ronnie: you saw it? i can finally give you shit about being a total drama queen?

devilededs: what do you mean? why would you not tell me if you knew it existed.

ronnie: precisely because of this vibe right now.

devilededs: okay, everyone but ronnie pls come over i need snacks and maybe some really b grade horror but you have to indulge me in my sadness.

garbear: already on the way with your emotional support jeff and frank. we'll pick up snacks.

ronnie: if you let me problem solve for you can i come for snacks? i don't think i can handle moping eddie without trying to show you its very fixable.

devilededs: YES! FIX! ME! HOW! GET OVER HERE!

Eddie flopped back into the beanbag chair and let his notebook flop out of his lap. Thankfully his friends all had keys so he could continue to rot in place until Ronnie forcibly withdrew him from his hovel.

part seven

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging @lunaraquaenby @stripey82 @lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Secrets That Whisper & Shout

Pairing: Moonknight trio (Steven mainly) x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: idk brief mentions of violence

Genre: fluff & minor angst

Summary: you are extremely intrigued by your neighbor and the voices you can sometimes hear in his head because of course your neighbor seems extra susceptible to your powers

***

It's an interesting way to live life, being able to see into people's minds. To alter their memories, control their actions, hear their deepest inner thoughts even if you're not trying to sometimes. It can be weird but you just try your best to live your life normally. Right now the biggest hindrance to your delicate balance of normal is your neighbor. He lives across the hall for you and unfortunately, for some reason, you keep finding yourself inside his mind. It happens when you let your mental guard down for a little too long. You've always compared people's minds to houses, or offices full of filing cabinets, your powers give you a key basically but it seems like your dorky neighbor's mental door is never closed let alone locked.

The weirder part is what you hear when you do find yourself in his mind. For most people, the voice in their head sounds like them- and while you've never really spoken to your neighbor, you know for a fact there's no way he's simultaneously a nervous Brit, a cocky American, and a grumpy Spanish speaker. There are three voices in his head as opposed to one, they speak to each other and seem entirely independent of one another. You haven't intentionally done any snooping in his mind but you can imagine his mental filing cabinets are entirely different than any you've been in. It's not really your business though so you never look into it. No matter how curious you are about how and why he has three voices in his head. 

You know very little about your neighbor. From accidentally listening to his mental debates you think his name is Steven. The other voices have names too but you're unclear who is who because you've never stuck around long enough to discern that. He's not very social and only leaves his apartment for work or errands. He hardly ever takes phone calls and he never really calls anyone- except, around the time you moved in he used to call his mom pretty often but you think she never answered and eventually, those calls stopped. The strangest detail you've realized is sometimes he'll sneak out of his apartment, through the window and you have no idea where he goes or what he does but he's always back within a week. You don't mean to keep tabs on him, sometimes you cast your magic out to scan for threats and you'll notice the lack of presence in the apartment across the hall.

He's a curious case, your neighbor across the hall, and today you've decided you're going to bite the bullet and speak to him. Your curiosity about him is the main reason and you hope that being able to assign personhood to the voices you hear will quell it even a bit. You cross the hall and knock on his door confidently before you can convince yourself not to on one Saturday afternoon when you know he's home. You checked first. There's some shuffling on the other side of the door and eventually, it opens a bit hesitantly but it opens.

"Hi! My name is y/n. I live across the hall from you." You say, your chosen tone is friendly but soft.

"I'm- Steven. Can I help you?" He asks sizing you up.

"I hope so! I was baking cookies and even though I went to the store before I started I guess I didn't make a complete list of things I needed because it turns out I actually don't have enough sugar so I was just wondering if you had any I could borrow by chance?" You ask. You are baking, but you also definitely have enough sugar, it just seemed like the simplest way to initiate conversation. A bit cliche but it's a classic for a reason.

"You want to borrow sugar?"

"Yes. A cup if you have it." You hold up your measuring cup with a smile. Steven pauses for a moment before he answers.

"Sure. I've got some. Come on in I'll pour some for you." He says walking into his apartment. You follow him in glancing around. The studio style flat is full of books littered everywhere, it's the first thing you notice when you walk in. Steven takes the measuring cup from you and quickly grabs his container of sugar to pour some.

"Thanks so much! I'll bring by some cookies to repay you!" You tell him.

"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate the offer but I am vegan and I'm sure you don't intend to bake vegan-friendly cookies so-" He trails off with a shrug. You frown but make a note of the information. He's vegan. "I've never seen you before." He says after a moment while he puts up his bag of sugar.

"That's probably because you don't leave much besides for work. I've lived across you for over a year." You muse.

"Hey! I- I leave!" He turns to look at you.

"To do your laundry at the witching hour when you're the least likely to run into people?" You smirk a bit at him.

"No." He huffs.

"Thanks for the sugar, Steven. Hope to see you around more." You toss over your shoulder as you walk back into your apartment.

You do make a handful of vegan cookies for your neighbor, even though it wasn't your plan, after checking to find that it really is just a couple of minor changes, vegetable oil instead of butter, water or nondairy milk instead of eggs, and since you don't already have vegan chocolate you leave out the chocolate chips- at least according to the recipe you found. They're basically sugar cookies and you only make six for Steven, some of which you sprinkle with cinnamon to make up for their plainness, but you imagine they're a decent thanks for the sugar you borrowed- even if it was a ploy.

A couple of hours later, you knock on Steven's door again, this time with a small Tupperware container for the cookies you made him. He opens it again with the same confused frown after a few moments.

"Hi again! I know you said not to bother with the cookies because you're vegan but I wanted to say thanks anyway so- I adjusted my recipe to accommodate. They're sugar cookies except two of them are cinnamon, I wasn't sure if you like cinnamon so I didn't make them all cinnamon but the cookies are vegan. So, thank you, for the sugar." You say handing him the plastic container.

"You adjusted your recipe so that I could have some cookies?" Steven doesn't seem to believe the words even as he says them.

"Yes. I know you said I didn't have to bring any but I wanted to anyway. Since I did use your sugar to make them."

"Thank you. I appreciate the effort. I can't wait to try them."

"If you ever need anything, just knock." You tell him and wait for his cautious nod. "I'll be seeing you." You say leaving without waiting for him to agree with that statement. From then on, Steven does in fact make a point to speak to you more often. The first time is a couple of days later, he runs into you in the elevator and tells you he enjoyed the cookies. He'll definitely speak to you when he sees you around the building but it's on you to actually make plans if you want to see him otherwise and sometimes you do. You invite him out to lunch, have him over for tea, suggest movies to watch together, you even visit him at work every once in a while. The first time you went to his job you didn't even know he worked there, I mean he'd told you he worked at a museum but you never thought to ask which one, but once you knew he worked there you definitely made a point to pop in and say hi when you're around and he's working. It takes a while but you manage to build a pretty good friendship with him over the next few months to the point where you're hanging out a couple of times a week these days. In fact, he's supposed to be over later today to show you some movie he's been dying for you to see. For now, you're sitting on your couch reading a novel until he gets here. It'll be another few hours before he comes knocking at your door. 

You've really enjoyed getting to know him, more than you expected to honestly. He's as sweet and awkward as he comes off at first glance but there's something endearing about his gentle shyness even when he's raving about whatever thing has most recently captured his attention. You find yourself looking forward to the time you spend together more than you like to admit. You have no idea if your fondness is reciprocated to the same extent and you also have no idea how to broach the subject with him. Much like a skittish animal, you're always careful about how you make changes to your dynamic. It's something you try not to dwell on, if he likes you or if you'll tell him you like him and how to do so, things are good between you two and as they say, if it ain't broke don't fix it. 

Your head snaps up at the sudden rush of fear you sense. The book in your lap long forgotten anyway as you had been lost in your thoughts until the dread you felt in your very bones pulled you from them. It's not your own though, that panic, and you have to take a moment to pinpoint the source. You gasp when you realize it's coming from Steven. It's been a while since you felt someone's feelings so uninhibited and you rush out of your apartment before you can even consider a plan. He must be in trouble for you to feel his alarm this way. When you reach for his doorhandle you hear some sort of crashing sound inside and you force open his apartment door to find Steven evading someone attempting to corner him in the apartment.

"Steven!" You gasp when the masked intruder chucks some sort of dagger at him.

"Y/n?! Get out of here!" Steven shouts at you from behind the couch. You ignore him and charge the attacker by launching yourself using Steven's side table. The attacker can't react quickly enough to the kick that you aim directly at their chest and they go down hard. You don't give the stranger a chance to get up and strike either of you, taking advantage of their disoriented state you slip into their mind, 'suggesting' that they leave and forget they ever came here, forget Steven even exists and forget you while you're at it. When the masked assailant stands again they climb out of the window they came through without saying a word.

"Are you alright Steven?" You frown turning your attention to where he's frowning from behind his kitchen counter. When did he move behind the kitchen counter?

"What just happened?" He blinks at you.

"I am- a magical being of sorts-"

"Like a witch?"

"Something like that. I mean- I can do magic in the more traditional sense, like spells and such but most of my powers are telepathic. I can read minds and alter memories, reshape reality-"

"What?" You hardly register Steven's shocked exclamation.

"I mean that can take a lot of energy depending on the scale, like I obviously can't do it for everyone, everywhere, at the same time but like- I could say, make it look and feel like there are spiders all over this room." You shrug.

"Why would you ever-"

"Arachnids are a common phobia, it's gotten me out of some touchy situations." You say.

"That doesn't explain what just happened though." Steven shakes his head.

"Oh, I can control people if it comes down to it. I just- made the person leave and forget you exist."

"You can do what?!" His eyes widen.

"I don't use it! Usually. I've only done it a couple of times to protect myself or someone who really needed it." You shrug.

"And your protection was to force someone to do something else against their will?!"

"Hey, that person was literally trying to kill you! I could've taken the violent route instead but I'm not a fan of it!"

"So that man-"

"Doesn't remember being here, doesn't remember attacking you, doesn't even remember you exist. You're safe." You say.

"Holy shit."

"Look I wanted to be honest with you because I care about you but if this is too much for you to handle then- I will leave all I ask is that you keep my secret to yourself."

"You won't just... take it from me?"

"I don't want to. And I won't, unless that information in your hands becomes a threat to my life."

"Have you ever used them on me? Your powers?" He asks. You pause for a moment considering how to answer. Admittedly he doesn't seem to be taking all this super well, you wonder if it would be worse to just say no but looking at him you can't bring yourself to tell the lie.

"I have. Not- on purpose and nothing altering. No mind control or memory changing or reality reshaping- absolutely nothing that changed anything about you it's just that sometimes your thoughts are loud. You yell in your head a lot- in several voices. Sometimes I can hear them." You explain.

"You can hear them? The different voices?"

"Yes. I don't quite understand it but I never snooped I just- would leave when I realized it was happening again." You say.

"I think you should go." Steven says avoiding your gaze. Your shoulders drop for a moment that you're sure he doesn't see.

"I see. Alright but Steven-"

"Your secret is yours. I won't tell anybody." He says quietly. You nod although he's still not looking directly at you.

"Okay. If you need anything- my door's open. Otherwise, take care- Steven." You say and exit his apartment before he can respond. Steven's reaction hurts more than you'd like it to, you suppose you wouldn't have been able to keep the secret from him forever though. It would've come out eventually, especially if you got any closer to him as you had considered. 

The next two weeks are weird. Steven doesn't text you, or call you, or come over for tea or lunch, you make a point not to visit him at work as you are positive he's avoiding you based on the fact that he's clearly adjusted all of his habits so as to not run into to you around the apartment building. That- you think stings more than his initial reaction. To think he was so put out by your revelation that he no longer wanted to even risk seeing you... Whatever, you wouldn't dwell on it. The world keeps spinning. A sudden knock on your door interrupts you before you can focus back on what you were working on. With a confused frown, you walk over to the door and look through the spyhole to see Steven standing in the hall, and that surprises you immensely. For on that knock was sharp and harsh in a way you've never heard Steven knock on anything ever, but also for him to just show up at your door after 2 weeks is... unexpected. You pull open the door and lean casually against the frame.

"Hello." He nods and you immediately notice he does not sound like himself. You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Steven? Hi. What are you doing here? And- why are you talking funny?"

"I'm not Steven my name is Marc Spector." He says.

"Did you hit your head or something?" You snort crossing your arms in confusion.

"No? I'm perfectly fine."

"Right except your name isn't Marc Spector it's Steven Grant. Unless you've been lying to me since we met which- would certainly be interesting but I don't think that's what's happening here." You say.

"Not quite. See we have a... condition-"

"Do not tell me about what's wrong with your body!" You put your hands up to stop him.

"It's psychological." He says.

"Oh okay. Proceed." You say.

"It's called dissociative identity disorder. My mind is- fractured. Essentially this body houses more than one consciousness." He explains.

"This sounds very Jekyll and Hyde and if you're coming to me to say you're a serial killer I don't-" You trail off when suddenly something clicks. "Holy shit you're one of the voices in Steven's head!" You gasp. You knew he sounded familiar but you didn't pinpoint it until just now.

"First of all, it's my head okay I am the original. Secondly- Steven told you about us?!"

"If he did do you think I would sound as confused as I do right now? No, he didn't tell me anything. I just realized why I recognize your voice." You say.

"Recognize my voice?" Now he's looking at you like you're crazy.

"I can hear you sometimes. You are quite loud- especially compared to the other one."

"You can hear us?" His eyes are wide as saucers.

"Yes, never on purpose though. I'm a telepath. I can read minds and change memories and alter reality and stuff like that so- sometimes I can hear you- which by the way we still haven't answered the billion dollar question why are you here?"

"Steven has been moping around for over a week now and every time we force him to leave he looks longingly at your door so I came to find out what the hell you did to him because I swear-"

"I didn't do anything to him. I told him I was a telepath and he freaked. He's been avoiding me since. All on his own. And before you start throwing around threats I'll warn you Marc Spector that I could take hold of your entire fractured little mind without even breaking a sweat. So tread carefully if you're going to start swearing things." Your eyes narrow at him.

"He's been avoiding you?" He blinks.

"We talked about my powers, he asked me to leave, and so I did. Probably assumes I'll take advantage of him using them or something." You shrug.

"Well you did just threaten me."

"It wasn't a threat it was a warning. Besides I'd never hurt Steven, you I don't know and you did start a pretty menacing sentence that prompted me to- never mind."

"Now I'm confused. If he's avoiding you, why is he moping around the apartment?" He frowns.

"You're asking me. You're the one that shares a body with him." You say.

"Explain to me exactly what went down?"

"I was in my apartment and someone attacked Steven- I don't know who or why but could feel it so I went over to help and I used my powers to get rid of them."

"What'd you do? Launch him out the window?"

"No? I just made him forget about us and where he was but when he mindlessly climbed back out the way he came in without attacking us I obviously had to explain some things. I guess Steven didn't take it all that well." You shrug.

"That doesn't sound right. I think you should talk to him."

"I- don't think he wants to do that." You shake your head.

"No. No, this has gone on long enough. Hang on." Marc says.

"Marc seriously mind your-"

"Y/n?" He grimaces. You recognize immediately that it's Steven you're talking to now.

"Steven- one the uh- voices? Marc? He thinks we need to have a conversation. Does he make a habit of meddling in your life this way?"

"Less often than you might think but- I do owe you an apology." His head drops.

"What for, exactly?"

"How I- handled things before. I was... cold, it's just that when you said you could hear Marc and Jake I was worried about what else you-"

"I'm sorry, who is Jake?" You shake your head at him.

"The identity disorder thing- there are three of us as far as we know. Myself, Marc, and Jake." Steven says and you nod as you piece it together.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to guess that Marc and Jake are not your only secrets?"

"No actually. Marc is an avatar."

"Of what?" You ask. Steven's shocked confusion prompts you to fill in the gaps, "I've met avatars for each of the sins so, one of those maybe? Or a celestial body of some sort? The moon perhaps- I'm guessing you don't mean in the same sense as the cartoon boy because people with elemental manipulation do not refer to themselves that way in real life so-"

"Khonshu." Steven says when you trail.

"What?"

"He's- Khonshu's avatar."

"Egyptian God. Interesting. Correct me if I'm wrong he's the god of justice, right?"

"That's right." He nods.

"So the guy that was attacking you a few weeks ago was probably mad at him for- something related to that."

"Most likely. Can't imagine a museum guest putting a hit out on me for not having any more pyramid pens or something." Steven scratches the back of his neck and you chuckle a bit at his joke.

"Interesting."

"Look- that day, I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to tell you. I've never told anyone this before, the only person that knows is Marc's ex-wife, so when you said you could hear our thoughts I was worried you knew more than just that there were voices in my head and- I'm sorry." Steven trails off with a sigh.

"So- what changed? Why are you telling me now?"

"Well Marc revealed himself to you." Steven says. "But more than that I just- really hate not being able to talk to you. I like my life way more with you in it but I- after how I reacted I sort of figured I'd earned my misery, that I didn't deserve your forgiveness because when you chose to trust me with your secrets I turned you away, I even judged you, instead showing literally any modicum of support of the person I care about. I made an ass of myself."

"I wasn't upset with you, you know. I mean as far as shitty reactions go yours doesn't even make the top 5. You didn't tell the apartment building to gather their pitchforks so- I count that as a win." You shrug.

"I would never-"

"I know." You nod. "While we're- confessing our sins anything else you wanna share?" You ask with a chuckle. Steven holds your gaze for a long moment and there's a brief second where you consider finding out for yourself what he's contemplating so hard, you won't of course, but the silence drags long enough to make you want to rescind the question. Eventually, Steven's hand grabs your arm and yanks you towards him. His eyes are so wide at the action you'd think he's not the one who pulled you but before you can ask him about it his lips are on yours. The kiss is short and a bit unsure but his mouth is soft against yours and when he pulls away still with that wide-eyed look you do nothing but blink at him for a moment.

"I- I'm so sorry that was- I mean Marc was- I didn't plan- I wasn't going to-"

"Steven." You place your hand against his cheek to halt his frazzled rambling. "Did you want to kiss me?" You ask.

"I've wanted to kiss you for months." He breathes.

"Then don't apologize. I've wanted to kiss you too."

"Really?"

"Yes so- I think I'm going to do it again." You say pausing long enough to give him an out. When his eyes flutter closed you take that as your sign to lean forward and connect your lips again. You're sure in that moment you could do this forever and you silently wish to whatever powers above that you'll have that long to do it as many times as you wish.

***

A/N: I'm thinking of turning this into an anthology (like There is No Right Way) of the moonknight trio dating a telepath because I think it would be interesting idk- anyone interested in more of this dynamic?

[notiddygothgf]

21. Freedom

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ It'll pass. ❞

★ c.w.: hayakawa family, aki being perfect, legal divorce jargon, emotional lowkey idk.

★ a/n: so how we feeling about that last chapter lol.... ANYWAYYYYYYY!!! to make up for that emotional rollercoaster, this one is comprised of the afteraffects of the divorce. it realistically should have been two chapters but i didn't want to bore yall so I crammed it all into one! i'm not gonna say too much, but enjoy the calm!! ugh i loved writing soft aki this chapter has such a soft spot in my heart. i hope you all enjoy it too!! pls leave all ur beautiful comments, they inspire me to update quicker!!!

★ w.c: .10k

shameless ; chapter index

LATER THAT NIGHT, in bed with your knight in shining armor, you sat awake with his laptop propped up on your legs. The harsh blue light from the screen practically burned your eyes. A few inches away, Aki was fast asleep, boyish features relaxed after a long and tedious day. A notepad lay open on the nightstand.

You were scanning through the search engine results for divorce attorneys in your area. A few names and faces popped up, but so far nothing had caught your eye – still, because you couldn't afford to be picky, you were noting them down, taking down numbers and names for future reference. Ideally, you would be able to call around tomorrow to see who could bring you through the divorce process under short notice.

Furrowing your brows, you sighed, dropping your head into your hands – the fight playing on repeat in the back of your mind.

"Is she hurt?"

"I'll fucking kill you."

"I'm taking you home."

You massaged your temples, feeling an awful lot like the future divorcee you were. You could see why so many people went off the deep end during the whole process. Hell, it had just started for you, and you were already at your wit's end.

And, of course, there was the doubt – the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, you were making a mistake. You were no longer in any position to go back. Still, you had made mistake once by marrying Tanimoto. You were terrified of making the same one with Aki.

But he's not Tanimoto, you reminded yourself. In fact, the two couldn't have possibly been more different. Where Tanimoto was strong-headed and cocky, Aki was kind and patient. He waited for you to come around so many different times – put up with a great deal of your emotional turmoil – and still stuck around. 

He was crazy about you. He had shown you that much from the very beginning. You had just been too blind to see that you were just as crazy about him.

"The apartment down the hall is up for lease, I've heard. It's not exactly the same as your house, but it could be a start," Aki tilted his head slightly, trying to offer a comforting smile, "We could make it work."

He's my peace, you thought, drumming your fingers on the keys of Aki's laptop absentmindedly before closing out the tab with the attorneys and opening a new one. Into the search bar, you typed in the name of Aki's apartment complex. Surprisingly enough, it popped up on the first page. How techy.

You scrolled through their page for a while, pursuing the site like you weren't currently nestled in bed with one of the complex's tenants. Then, clicking on the option for vacant housing, you looked at some of the options they had available. 

1 bedroom, you clicked.

Then, casting a stray glance at your lover, you softened, watching him sleep for a moment – the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the flush in his cheeks, the way his lips were parted ever-so-slightly. His hair was touseled, laying wildly over the white pillowcase. Above all else, he looked like he was at peace.

In a moment, this could all disappear, you thought. Hesitantly, you traced a line from his cheek to his forehead, reveling in the way he twitched beneath your touch. He could disappear. It's not uncommon in our line of work.

And then, you realized that you didn't care. You couldn't care less about the fact that this – all of this – could be gone tomorrow. All it took was one look at him for you to come to an understanding; you would rather have a minute with him than live a lifetime without him – hell, without the little family the two of you had created between the two of you and the two gremlins. You loved it all enough to know that, however fleeting it might be, you wanted to ride until the last stop.

You imagined a life with Aki – the domesticity of it. You imagined waking up in your own bedroom, right next to his. A space you could call your own for the first time. A place you were free to decorate as you pleased. You imagined walking into the kitchen and – rather than finding that your husband had left without a goodbye again – find him standing there before the stove, cooking breakfast for you. Would he turn to you when he heard your footsteps? Would his permanent scowl soften into that lovestruck grin he always seemed to wear around you? Would he lean down and kiss you good-morning, voice raspy with sleep?

And then, you imagined the other two. You imagined Denji and Power running into the kitchen, fighting with you about portion sizing while you set the table. Denji would ask an invasive question, as he typically did, and Power would inevitably run around flaunting her glory in the way that only she could. 

Would you look at all of that and finally be able to think 'This is home'?

You went back a page, clicking 4 Bedrooms instead. You know, just to humor yourself. That's all.

7:45 AM

TANIMOTO: Today's our check out day. I need your hotel key by 11.

TANIMOTO: and if you want your stuff, come get it.

The elevator jolted slightly as you pressed the button for the proper floor, the soft hum of machinery filling the small space. It felt suffocating inside of it – you exhaled, slow and steady, watching the numbers climb. It's just a quick stop,you reminded yourself. In and out. He can't hurt you.

Worst came to worst, Aki was waiting outside in the car, having had insisted upon driving you in case your husband tried anything funny. His words of encouragement played in the back of your mind like a mantra:

"You don't have to explain yourself to him. I'll be waiting outside. If you're not back in 20 minutes, I'll come up there and find you. If he tries to lay a finger on you, just text me. I'll be there quicker than flies on shit."

In. Out. Your chest rose and then fell again.

"I love you. You can do this. I love you."

His words had been firm, steady, grounding in the way they always seemed to be. Now, as you rode up to the floor where you knew your husband was staying for the first time in God knows how long, you held onto them. Carried them in your mind, in your chest like a protective talisman. 

Aki's fingers had been tight around the steering wheel as he told you, "Get in, get out. Don't give him the chance to pull you back in."

The soft chime of the elevator reaching its destination pulled you back to the present. You straightened out slightly, exhaling again, smoothing your hands out over the sleeves of your sweater – the one you had borrowed from Aki's closet earlier that morning.

Can I really do this? You couldn't help but wonder. Still, your heart was steady – like it knew you had no other choice.

Just in, then out, you reminded yourself.

Yet, as the doors slid open, you hesitated before stepping out into the empty, quiet hallway. The number 400 glared at you. It wasn't the right room, but you were close. Closer than you had been since... well, since he had grabbed you by the collar that night at the party. Closer than you had been since you watched him get pummeled into the ground by the very same man who stole you away from him.

The numbers ticked up as you continued down the hall. 401, 403, 406, 409, 412.

Your heart was racing in your chest by the time you turned to your left and saw those numbers you had been dreadingseeing – 413.

The number 413 loomed in front of you, an impassable threshold between past and present. You exhaled, slow and measured, and raised a fist to knock. For a moment, you hesitated, staring at the peeling paint on the doorframe, the tarnished brass of the room number. Your fingers curled in on themselves. It would be so easy to turn around, to walk away. But you weren't that person anymore. You forced yourself to knock.

The door opened almost instantly. Tanimoto stood in the doorway, his face shadowed by the dim overhead light. A dark bruise swelled around his left eye, his lower lip cracked and healing. The sight of it made something cold settle in your stomach. He looked different—hollow, diminished.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, uncertain.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, keeping your expression unreadable. The weight of everything between you pressed down on your chest, but you pushed through it. "I came for my stuff."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. His hand flexed at his side like he wanted to reach for you but thought better of it. "Right. Yeah." After a moment's hesitation, he stepped aside, giving you space to enter.

The room was surprisingly neat, stripped of the usual signs of his disorder. Your duffel bag sat near the door, already packed. A small act of consideration that did nothing to soothe the wariness in your bones.

"I packed everything for you," he said, voice careful, almost measured. "Figured that's what you wanted."

You nodded, stepping forward. Your fingers brushed over the bag's zipper, checking its weight. Everything felt accounted for. But you still had the lingering thought that something was missing—not a possession, but something deeper, something intangible.

Tanimoto lingered near the door, watching you with an unreadable expression. "I'm ready to go too," he added, as if that would change something.

You reached for the handle and turned toward him. "Thank you." It was clipped, distant. Still, you bowed your head slightly in acknowledgment, a final courtesy before leaving this part of your life behind.

Just as you moved to leave, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

Your body locked up instantly. The air in your lungs turned sharp, unsteady. His grip wasn't bruising, wasn't forceful, but it didn't need to be. A part of you recoiled before your mind even caught up, instincts long trained to flinch at his touch.

"Wait, I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, his fingers releasing you just as fast. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, looking exhausted, defeated. "I just... do you wanna get coffee or something? I think we should talk."

Your heart pounded, but not from fear. From anger. From frustration. From everything you had buried deep just to make it this far.

"There's nothing to talk about." Your voice was firm, your body already half-turned toward the door.

"Please," he tried again. "I just—I wanna talk, that's all." His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying something more. But you didn't care.

You sighed, shaking your head. "I'm leaving, Tanimoto. He's waiting for me outside."

His jaw tensed, but he didn't move. His hands clenched at his sides as he took a slow breath. "I just want you to explain why—where this is all coming from."

Your lips parted, but instead of answering, you heard Aki's voice in your head. "You don't have to explain yourself to him."

Your expression hardened. "I don't have to explain myself to you." The words were clipped, sharp, a finality in them that left no room for argument. "You lost that right the moment you started hitting me."

His face paled. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His shoulders sagged as the weight of your words sunk in, as if he were only now realizing the full impact of his actions.

You turned toward the door, but he shifted, stepping into your path.

Your fingers twitched toward your phone. Aki was just downstairs. But no. You wouldn't call for help. Not this time.

Instead, you straightened. "I'm seeing a lawyer."

His expression cracked. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something, but the words never made it past his throat.

"Please, don't leave."

Your fingers tightened around your bag's handle. "You're too late."

Tanimoto's shoulders slumped. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "I don't want a divorce."

You met his gaze, unflinching. "It doesn't matter what you want anymore, Tanimoto."

He swallowed hard, his face a storm of emotions. He was losing you, and he knew it. The realization was written all over his face.

"I'll bring you the papers soon," you continued. "Until then, don't contact me. If you refuse to meet up and agree to terms, it will have to be resolved in court." Your voice was steady, unwavering. "And if we go to court, I will bring up everything you've done. Everything you don't want getting out."

The silence between you was suffocating. He knew exactly what you meant. The bruises, the excuses, the nights spent walking on eggshells. It would all be laid bare.

"If you want this to be done peacefully," you said finally, "then I suggest that you cooperate."

He didn't say anything.

You nodded once. "Excuse me."

This time, when you reached for the door, he didn't stop you.

You stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind you. The tension in your shoulders slowly began to unravel, bit by bit, with every step you took toward the elevator.

And just like that, it was done.

The office smelled of old paper and polished wood, the scent of ink lingering in the air like a tangible reminder of the bureaucracy that would soon unfold. You sat stiffly in the leather chair across from an attorney – Kaya Fujimoto – hands folded tightly in your lap, fingers laced together as if to hold yourself steady. The room was neat, precise, the kind of place where every detail had been carefully curated to exude control. If only you felt that way.

The attorney, a woman in her late fifties with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense air, adjusted her glasses and gave a polite but professional nod. "I appreciate you coming in today. I understand you're here to begin the process of filing for divorce."

You swallowed, nodded. "Yes."

The attorney folded her hands on the desk. "All right. To start, I need to get a full picture of your financial and legal situation. The first thing I want to ask is, do you and your husband own any shared assets?"

"Yes," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to speak with more clarity. "We own a house together."

The attorney didn't look surprised, simply nodding as she made a note on the yellow legal pad in front of her. "Is the house fully paid off, or is there a mortgage?"

"There's still a mortgage. We bought it together a few years ago. Both of our names are on it."

The attorney clicked her pen, jotting something down. "That will complicate things slightly, but it's manageable. Now, do you both contribute to the mortgage payments equally? Or is one of you primarily responsible?"

You hesitated. "We've both paid into it. We have a joint account, and the mortgage is withdrawn from there every month."

The attorney nodded again. "That brings me to my next question—joint finances. Do you and your husband share any bank accounts beyond the one you mentioned? Savings accounts, investments, anything else of significance?"

"We share all of our money," you admitted, the words heavy on your tongue. "We never separated finances. Everything goes into one place."

For the first time, the attorney's gaze lifted fully from the notepad, studying you carefully. "And who primarily controls those funds?"

The question made you shift in your seat. "It's... technically both of us, but he usually handles the big decisions. I don't go through every transaction."

"Has he ever restricted your access to money? Prevented you from withdrawing funds, or monitored your spending?"

You knew what the attorney was asking, and for a fleeting moment, you considered being honest. But you had already decided—you wouldn't bring that into this. You wouldn't give him that power over your case, wouldn't let this become a battle of accusations and counterclaims.

"No," you said, carefully neutral. "We've just always used the same account."

The attorney held your gaze for a moment longer, as if weighing your answer. Then, nodding, she returned to her notes. "Okay. Since there is no financial separation, everything in that account is considered marital property. This includes any savings, investments, or debts in both of your names. Divorce proceedings will determine how those assets are divided."

The weight in your chest grew heavier. You had spent so long trying to separate yourself from him, to untangle yourself from the life you had built together, and yet here you were, realizing how deeply enmeshed you still were.

"I need to ask," the attorney continued, her voice steady, "is there a prenuptial agreement in place?"

You shook your head. "No."

This time, the attorney exhaled softly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "That means that, legally, all assets accumulated during your marriage are subject to division. Without a prenuptial agreement, there's no predetermined structure for how things will be split. We'll need to negotiate that through the divorce."

Your stomach twisted. You had known this, in theory, but hearing it stated so plainly made it real. You had spent years building a life with him, and now you would have to fight for your share of it.

"I assume there's no formal postnuptial agreement either?" the attorney asked.

"No. Nothing like that."

The attorney tapped the pen against the legal pad. "All right. The house will likely be the biggest point of contention. Typically, there are a few options. You can sell the home and split the proceeds, one party can buy out the other's share, or—depending on the situation—one spouse may retain ownership, with financial compensation provided to the other. Do you have a preference?"

You shivered, thinking about all of the memories that lived in that damned house – like ghosts.

You hesitated. "I don't want the house."

The attorney paused, flipping through a few pages before looking back at you. "Are you prepared for the possibility that he may not cooperate? If he refuses to sell the house or give you your share, we may have to take the matter to court."

Your fingers tightened on your lap. "I don't want to go to court," you said, your voice low but firm, as if speaking the words aloud would solidify your resolve. "I just want to be done with him, with all of this." You gestured vaguely, as if the walls of the office were somehow closing in on you. "If that means I walk away without getting the full value of the house, I'll take it. Whatever gets me out of this faster."

The attorney's sharp eyes studied you for a moment, then she nodded, understanding the weight behind your words. "I understand. Divorce is often more about the emotional closure than the financial settlement. But you should be aware that his refusal to comply can still delay things. It won't be over quickly, even if you take the loss."

"I don't care," you replied quietly, almost to yourself. "I just need it over."

The attorney held your gaze for a moment longer, then gave a small, acknowledging nod. "I'll make a note of that. It's important to know what you're willing to accept, and it sounds like you're ready to move on. But just be clear—if he's uncooperative, I will do everything in my power to ensure you're not taken advantage of."

Your throat tightened, but you nodded in return. "Thank you."

"What if he refuses to sign the... uh... the papers?"

"Then we take it to court. Judges don't look kindly on one party trying to hold the other hostage in a divorce."

You nodded, absorbing the information. The attorney's calm, methodical approach made it easier to stomach, but it didn't change the reality of what you were about to step into.

"As for your finances," the attorney continued, "I strongly recommend you open a personal bank account immediately and begin transferring your share of the funds. Since everything is joint, your husband has equal access. If he suspects a divorce is imminent, he could drain the account before proceedings begin."

Your breath caught slightly. You hadn't thought of that, but you should have. "How much should I take?"

"Half," the attorney said without hesitation. "That's what you're entitled to. If he challenges it, we can address it in negotiations. But do not leave yourself financially vulnerable."

You nodded, making a mental note to do it as soon as you got home. The thought of him realizing you had moved the money made your stomach churn, but the alternative—being left with nothing—was far worse.

"That leads me to my next point," the attorney said. "Divorces can be civil, or they can be contentious. Based on what you've told me, I want you to be prepared for the possibility that he will contest the terms. It may be beneficial to gather any financial records, emails, or messages that support your contributions to the marriage. Documentation can be invaluable if disputes arise."

You let out a slow breath. "I understand."

The attorney closed her legal pad and offered a small, reassuring smile. "This process can be overwhelming, but you're not alone. My job is to ensure you leave this marriage with what you're legally entitled to."

For the first time since stepping into the office, you felt the smallest sliver of relief.

You had spent so long feeling trapped. Now, for the first time, you were beginning to see the way out.

"Thank you," You smiled. "I really do appreciate it."

That evening, after you came home from the attorney's office, you entered Aki's apartment. He had texted you earlier to let you know that he'd left the door unlocked for you. You assumed that he had said that because he was asleep or in the shower, or something of the sort, so you were a little surprised to see the outline of his lean form perched over the balcony. 

Still, kicking your shoes off, you entered the space that had become your home and followed him out there.

He was still wearing his Public Safety uniform – clearly just recently having clocked out – leaning over the ledge with a cigarette perched between his fingers. His hair was down, and it looked almost blue beneath the moonlight. As blue as his tired eyes were when he turned slowly to meet your gaze.

"Hey, troublemaker," He smiled – softly, though there was a hint of fatigue that lingered behind it, like the work day had drained him.

"Hey, Baby," You replied, walking up a little closer and then slipping your hands around his waist. It all felt so natural, so easy. It felt like coming home after being at war. When you buried your nose into his back, you smelled that beautiful aroma that was so distinctly him – his detergent, the warm notes of his cologne, hints of smoke from the stick between his fingertips. 

"Baby," He hummed. "I don't think you've ever called me that outside of the bedroom."

You grinned, face flushing, nuzzling your cheek into his back. Truthfully, the nickname had slipped out. It felt so natural, you hadn't even realized you'd said it.

Then, he sighed, shoulders slumping. His hand rested over yours, drawing shapes over your clasped fingertips. 

"Rough day at work?" You asked.

He chuckled, "You have no idea."

"I don't, you're right," You replied, "I can't imagine being a Captain, truthfully. Having to think for everyone – I'd much rather take orders."

"I'm not even gonna comment on that last part 'cause my mind's in the gutter," Aki huffed out a quiet little laugh. When you shoved him forward, he pulled a hit from his cigarette, continuing, "How was the meeting?"

He turned around to face you, then, wrapping you in the tightest bear hug he could manage. For a second, you felt as if you had died and gone to heaven. You wouldn't mind suffocating in his arms.

"Provincial," You smiled. "She told me I'm entitled to half of the income and... God, a whole lot of other legal jargon. I'm so over it."

"It'll be worth it when you're free," Aki hummed in response, cigarette perched between his lips. Faintly, a few feet away, a CD player was playing some tune you faintly recognized. It sounded like something from the 80's. Mindlessly, perhaps, you began to swing back and forth.

"That's what I'm trying to remind myself," You rested your head on his chest, letting him continue to swing you back and forth to the beat. It was somewhere between swaying and dancing – content to bask in each other's presence. Your hand snaked its way up his arm, "Let me get a hit of that?"

You plucked the smoldering cigarette out from between his fingers and held it up to your own lips. As Aki continued to move you side to side to the rhythm of the song, you breathed in, feeling the smoke enter your lungs, the nicotine slip into your veins – and then breathed out. 

When you were finished, you stubbed the cigarette out and flicked it over the edge of the balcony. You had gotten your fix, and you were now content to lose to yourself in the rhythm, in the little bubble the two of you had created. For a minute, you weren't just a twenty-something on the edge of a divorce, a Public Safety worker with a ticking clock over her head – for a minute, it was just you and your lover, swaying together beneath Tokyo's evening skyline with your head on his chest. Below your cheek, his heart beat steadily, a reminder that this was all real.

"I love you," you sighed.

Aki tilted your chin up so that you were eye-to-eye with him, "I love you more."

Then he was leaning down – quite a bit, as he was a great deal taller than you were – and his lips were on yours, gentle and languid, as if he had all of the time in the world to kiss you. You sighed into it, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer – all the while swaying to the song. 

"I have nothing left except you now, remember that," You breathed out. It was true. Once the divorce was through, you'd have no one else but Aki to pick up the pieces (the way he always did).

"How could I forget?" He smiled, pressing a kiss to your crown, gazing down at you with that starstruck look – like you were the only thing he had ever wanted, "You're my happiness, my everything."

And then, on the balcony of your not-quite-boyfriend's apartment, swinging to the beat of some song you couldn't name if someone paid you, swaddled in his arms, you realized that things really would turn out okay. As long as you had him by your side, you could handle anything.

YOU: I have the papers, and I would like to meet up in person as soon as possible so you can sign off on it.

YOU: please be mindful that this is the peaceful way to do things. I'll be out of your hair in no time.

Typing...

TANIMOTO: Okay. When should we meet?

YOU: Tomorrow?

TANIMOTO: Yeah, that works.

YOU: Great. I'll go to Kyoto. We can discuss terms over coffee.

Typing...

TANIMOTO: I miss you, yk that?

Seen 11:42 PM

Two weeks had passed since your first consultation with the attorney. Two weeks of what felt like an endless back-and-forth – tied between days with Aki, at home and at work. Two weeks of living with the Hayakawa "family" (and resolving the numerous arguments that broke out between the three. Denji always had something to do with it). Two weeks of bliss combined with the greatest headache ever – the process of a legal separation from your soon-to-be ex husband. 

Two weeks had passed, and now that you were here, you were having doubts. Unreasonable doubts, sure. You knew you wanted this, but they were doubts nonetheless

Two weeks, and now you were seated in the backseat of a busy cafe with the divorce papers neatly stacked and stapled together in your lap. You had spent countless days reading over all of the terms and conditions your attorney had drafted up. Four pages. Four perfect, white pages, each detailing some aspect of the divorce. It felt like a brick in your lap, heavy and uncertain.

And, as you ran your eyes over the front page one last time, just to make sure that you really wanted to go through with everything, the bell at the top of the cafe's door rang, and Tanimoto walked in. 

He was dressed like it was just another normal day. White dress shirt, Public Safety suit jacket buttoned up – he looked as if he had just gotten off of work. If your memory served you correct, he usually worked until four in the afternoon on Wednesdays. That would mean that he came straight from Public Safety by train.

The two of you had agreed to meet halfway in the middle at a cafe he had recommended in Narai-juku. The train ride wasn't unreasonable, but it did nothing for your nerves to know that you were here alone. Aki was in town with Denji and Power, undoubtedly being suckered into the arcade Denji had spotted in the cab on the way over just up the block. He was a call away, as always, upon his insistence, but he wasn't sitting across from you.

No, instead, it was Tanimoto that sat down, solemn expression worn on his tired face, hair looking utterly disheveled. His eyes were baggy, like he hadn't slept. The one on the left still wore the remnants of a black eye, a painful reminder of the fight he had gotten into.

For a moment, neither of you exchanged greetings. What more was there to say?

Wordlessly, you set the document on the table. It felt a lot heavier than it actually was. Tanimoto seemed to mirror your hesitance on a much greater level, eyes already hazy. He stared down at the packet between the two of you like he couldn't believe it, like the years the two of you had spent together were flashing through his mind. 

"This doesn't feel real," He finally acknowledged the elephant in the room.

Tanimoto's fingers hovered over the stack of papers before he finally reached for them. He exhaled sharply, as if bracing himself, then flipped open the first page. His movements were sluggish, like he was deliberately slowing time, drawing this out longer than it needed to be. 

You sat perfectly still, watching as his eyes moved across the first few lines, the muscles in his jaw tightening with every word he absorbed. His thumb ran absentmindedly along the edge of the paper, the same way he used to trace lazy circles against your wrist when he held your hand. You forced yourself to look away. 

That was another lifetime ago. 

His voice, quiet and strained, finally cut through the silence. "So, other than half of the money, you're not asking for anything," he murmured, not quite a question, but more of a realization. 

You nodded, shifting in your seat. "I don't need anything from you. I just want a clean break." 

He lifted his head. "And the, uh... the house?" 

The house. The house you had once called a home. Four white walls, sleek modern interior, a place you had never quite felt was your own.

You swallowed. "It's yours." 

His lips parted slightly, as if taken aback. His gaze searched yours, as if waiting for you to change your mind. 

"I'm looking to downsize," you continued, voice steady. "I have some apartments I'm already looking at in Tokyo." 

"With Captain Hayakawa, right? You're..." He swallowed like it hurt him to do so, "You're moving in together, aren't you?"

You weren't planning on it. Hell, you hadn't even started showing some of the listings to Aki yet to get his opinion. Everything was so... up in the air. 

Plus, you would never ask him that. Living with someone was a commitment, something not far from marriage. Aki was still young. You doubted he would want to give up the space he'd been inhabiting for so long just to share one with you.

Still... you had endured Tanimoto's abuse for years. You wanted to milk it a little longer.

"That's none of your business, honestly," You replied. 

He let out a sharp breath through his nose, shaking his head. "Guess you've got it all figured out." 

You said nothing. There was nothing left to say. 

The café buzzed around you—muffled conversations, the hiss of steaming milk, the rhythmic clinking of cups against saucers. Outside, the sky had deepened into a dusky shade of blue, streaked with the last traces of sunlight. It was the kind of evening you once would have spent together, sharing a quiet meal or walking home side by side. 

Now, you sat on opposite ends of a table, separated by a mere few inches and a lifetime of things left unsaid. 

Tanimoto turned another page, skimming over the terms like he wasn't really reading them. His hand rested on the corner of the stack, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the paper. 

Then, after a long pause, he exhaled and leaned back. "Should I take this home?" he asked, rubbing at his temple. "Go over it a little more before signing?" 

You shook your head without hesitation. "No. I want you to sign them here." 

His lips pressed into a thin line. 

"I took the evening off," you added, folding your hands in your lap. "I have time to wait." 

Tanimoto let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head again, but he didn't argue. Instead, he flipped through the final few pages, slower this time. His expression hardened, but beneath the forced indifference, you could see it—the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, the tight set of his shoulders. 

You knew that look. It was the same one he wore when he was trying not to let something hurt. 

And then, without looking up, he said, "I don't have a pen." 

You had expected this. You figured he would try and pull a stunt at the last minute.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a sleek black pen and placed it on the table between you. "That's okay," you said, voice soft. "I brought one." 

A breath of laughter left him, quiet and bitter. "Of course you did." He picked up the pen, turning it between his fingers, as if testing its weight. Then, finally, he looked at you. His eyes were glassy, reflecting the warm light overhead, and for a moment, he didn't speak. 

"Look," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know about this..." 

Your chest tightened. You swallowed against the lump in your throat. 

"Don't," you said, cutting him off. "Don't do this. Please. Just sign the papers." 

His grip on the pen tightened, his knuckles paling. "I don't want to lose you." 

It was barely a whisper, but it still hit like a punch to the ribs. 

For a second, you almost faltered. You almost let the years you had spent together, the familiarity of him, the ache in his voice, shake your resolve. 

But then you heard Aki's voice in your head, steady and sure. 

"Stay strong."

You blinked, steadying your breath. "You'll lose a lot more than just me if you don't sign off on the terms," you said, and even though it hurt, even though your throat burned from holding back the emotion threatening to break through, you didn't waver. "This is the best way to do it. Please, just... just sign it." 

A heavy silence settled between you, thick and suffocating. You could feel him watching you, searching for something—hesitation, regret, anything that would let him believe there was still a chance. 

But you had made your choice. 

Tanimoto exhaled, long and unsteady. His shoulders dropped, and his head tilted slightly downward, his eyes falling to the paper in front of him. 

"If this will make you happy," he muttered, pressing the tip of the pen to the page, "then I'll be glad I did at least one thing right." 

You knew what he was doing. He wanted to make you doubt. To make you regret. 

And maybe, in some small way, it was working. 

But you forced yourself to remember why you were doing this. 

Tanimoto picked up the pen with a trembling hand, steadying it over the line at the end of the packet. Then, hesitating slightly, he scribbled his signature down, ink pressing deep into the paper.

And you exhaled. Finally, For the first time in thirty seconds, you breathed out.

It's over. It's finally over.

You stood up only a moment later, grabbing your coffee and the papers before he could change his mind. "I'll come by the house and pick up my stuff while you're at work sometime this week," You hummed, sticking the papers into the folder in your purse. When you were all zipped up and ready to go, you looked him one last time – got a real good look at him because you knew you might never see him again after all was said and done.

And he was crying. His eyes were wide and watery, tears streaming gently down his cheeks – it was something you hadn't seen him do before... ever. Lips trembling, he whispered, "You don't have to do this. It's not too late to call it off."

That's the thing about abusers. They're very convincing. You felt the waterworks building up in your own eyes, biting your lip to keep them at bay. A stray tear slipped out, down your cheek – one you quickly wiped away. He wasn't worth any more of those.

"This is goodbye, Tanimoto," You said the words you had been aching to say for so long. As you breathed them out into the air, you felt lighter, somehow, like a weight had been lifted. Then, turning on your heel, you made your way towards the door.

"Will I ever see you again?" He called after you, making you pause mid-step. 

A shopgoer passed you by. Then another. Your coffee felt heavy in your palm, hot enough to burn the tender skin there. 

Slowly, then, you looked back at him – at the pathetic man who had once been your husband, and felt the weight of the papers in your bag. 

"Stay strong," Aki's voice echoed in your head one final time.

Then, you straightened out, answering, "With all due respect, I hope not."

You didn't wait for his response. You didn't even spare him one last glance.

Instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the café, pushing the door open with more force than necessary. The bell above jingled in protest.

The evening air hit you like a slap to the face—cool, crisp, and sharp enough to sting against the heat of your skin. Your feet moved on their own, faster than they needed to, carrying you up the block as though you could outrun the weight of what had just happened. The coffee in your hand sloshed dangerously against the rim, but you hardly noticed.

You didn't stop. Not when the streetlights flickered on overhead. Not when a group of people passed by, chatting about something insignificant. Not even when you realized you had started trembling.

It wasn't until you turned a corner, out of sight from the café, that it hit you all at once.

The tears came before you could stop them—silent, hot, and endless. Your breath hitched, and then you were sobbing, shoulders heaving, body curling inward as if you could fold yourself small enough to disappear.

You doubled over, your free hand gripping your stomach like you had been physically struck. It hurt. God, it hurt.

Then, you dropped into a squat, setting your coffee down and curling into a ball.

People were staring. You could feel their eyes on you, confused and mildly concerned. Some of them hesitated mid-step, as if debating whether to approach. Others simply walked around you, pretending not to see.

You didn't care.

You didn't even know why you were crying. He was horrible to you. He had torn you down piece by piece, made you question yourself, made you feel like you were nothing. You should be relieved. You should be free.

But all you could feel was the sharp, crushing weight of the years you had wasted on him. Of the love you had given so freely, only for it to be twisted into something unrecognizable.

A hand touched your back.

You flinched at the contact, but before you could jerk away, you recognized the warmth of it. The familiarity.

Aki.

He didn't say anything at first. Just stood beside you, solid and unwavering, as if anchoring you in place. His touch was firm but careful, rubbing slow, grounding circles into your back.

When you finally dared to lift your head, you saw the bouquet of white flowers in his other hand.

Your breath hitched.

Aki was watching you, his expression unreadable beneath the dim streetlight, but his eyes—his eyes told you everything. He knew. He knew what this meant for you. He had known before you had even walked into that café.

Behind him, Denji and Power stood a few feet away, both staring at you like you had just grown a second head.

Denji's mouth was half-open, like he was about to say something, but for once, he didn't. Power nudged him, but even she stayed uncharacteristically silent.

"You two go ahead and buy some icecream over there. I'll be right behind you," Aki rustled around in his pocket and slapped a bill into Denji's hand, "Give us a minute."

The two of them pissed off rather quickly then, practically skipping off with the money – their hunched over kinda-roommate long forgotten. Then it was just you on the floor and Aki, towering over you.

"You okay?" He asked, breaking the silence. "I got these flowers for you. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

There was an unspoken threat behind his words, an unspoken "Do I need to go over there and talk to him?". On any other day, you would have cracked a smile at it.

Instead, you shook your head, "I don't... know why I'm crying."

He sighed, then knelt down to your level. Long fingers reached out to cradle your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear and out of your face. "It's a lot to process, Honey. Being strong doesn't always feel good."

You sniffled back, "I guess you're right."

"Stand up," He smiled at you – not with teeth, but a lippy smile, like he was head over heels for you, even when you were... like that. "We can talk about it when you're ready, okay?"

"I'm ready now, I just..." You stood up, shivering at the gust of wind that blew your way. You tugged at the sleeves of Aki's sweater around your wrists. "It's just hard. I mean, we were married for quite some time, and I just... I have so much to say. So much to feel."

Aki wrapped you in his embrace – his warmth, and you melted against his much taller body. And, for a moment, nothing more had to be said. He understood everything.

"It'll pass," Was all he said in response. 

"I feel like I just let an entire marriage go," You asked, "Will it really get better?"

"It'll get easier every day," He replied, bringing a hand up to massage the back of your scalp. "Plus, I'll be with you every step of the way."

You leaned into his touch, his embrace, and let the tears begin to flow again, carelessly soaking his sweater. He held you through it, whispering words of endearment and cooing in your ear.

"I want you to call your lawyer up and tell her you're gonna drop the papers off tomorrow," He added.

Your heart squeezed at the sound of it – at the sound of his voice, at the idea that you were that much closer to being done with your husband, you weren't entirely sure which one. 

"He told me it's not too late to back down, Aki," You sighed. "I'm scared."

"We can take it one step at a time," He replied easily. "Wanna talk about it over ice cream?"

You looked at him – at your lover, then up at the pearly blue sky. It seemed like it was a little brighter that afternoon, a little more colorful. Faintly, hues of pink were beginning to creep onto the skyline. You took a moment to take it all in.

Then, you smiled, "Yeah... I would like that."

Aki released you from his hold, only to take your hand up in his own and place a chaste kiss to the back of it. 

You had heard people tell you that freedom came with a great deal of difficulty, that it often took a while to start feeling good. You agreed. Now that you had the signed papers in your bag, you didn't know how to feel – what to make of everything. 

Still, you felt a little better knowing that you were walking towards freedom hand-in-hand with the man you loved.

You were well on your way to separation with your not-quite-ex husband. The divorce papers were signed, dated, and dropped off at the attorney's office earlier in the morning. The only thing left? 

Packing. So much of it. For a moment, you wondered if you would even be able to pack away your twenties. Would they be able to fit in the cardboard boxes you had picked up? Would you be able to carry them, or would the crushing weight of the divorce be too much to handle?

On the ride over, you had plenty of time to think about it. You and Aki had rented a moving truck from one of those moving chains, and in the back were a few piles of cardboard boxes. Oh, and the other two. Denj and Power were having the time of their lives back there, sitting criss-crossed applesauce on the floor while Aki drove. In his words, they were devils, and if they got injured on the way over, he would just have to give them some blood whenever they got home and they would be as good as new.

Your hands were neatly folded in your lap. Five hours into the five-and-a-half hour commute, and it was safe to say that you were going insane. The papers were sent in – it was final, no going back. Could you finally call yourself a free woman? 

After all of those years?

One look at Aki and his glorious side profile – sharp angles and boyish eyes illuminated by the sunlight filtering in through the window behind the two of you – and you knew that going back was never an option. Not after you met him, anyway.

You glanced at the kids in the back. Currently, they were playing one of the board games they had brought along for the ride. Checkers, it looked like. Denji moved a black piece right as the truck hit a bump in the road, and their progress went flying.

Denji slammed his hands down on the ground, "Dammit, ponytail, you SUCK at driving!"

"Get a license, then we'll talk," He grumbled back. "Fuckin' freeloader."

You laughed, cheeks pulled taut at the corners. "Be nice, Aki."

"He's been getting on my nerves the entire car ride," Aki turned to you briefly, blue eyes narrowed into slits. He gestured towards the road. On the radio, one of his CDs was playing a quiet tune. "Are we there yet, this and I have to piss, that."

"I'm pretty sure this is the longest he's ever been in a car," You tried to add.

"If he's lucky, I won't pack him into a box and fucking leave him in here," He hissed at you.

"Eat a bag of dicks," Denji piped up from the back.

There was a tick in Aki's jaw, then, eyes widening as he shouted into the rearview mirror; "Go fuck yourself."

"Kids, please," You cut in. "There's only thirty minutes left. Can we please be nice?" You gestured to the road exasperatedly, "Left at the light, by the way."

The road stretched long and open before you, the low hum of Aki's music filling the car. The quiet tune had blended into the background hours ago, like the rhythm of the tires against the pavement, like the steady presence of the man beside you. The golden glow of the setting sun slanted through the windshield, bathing the dashboard in soft, flickering light. Outside, the landscape rolled by in a blur of greens and browns, endless fields giving way to clusters of trees, and the occasional gas station sign flickering against the dimming sky.

"Left at the light," you reminded him, voice soft, watching as the green overhead turned yellow.

Aki nodded, fingers flexing on the wheel before smoothly guiding the car into the turn lane. His profile was sharp in the fading light, the angles of his face accentuated by the dusky hues. The sunset caught on the edge of his jawline, turning his skin molten, almost delicate. You wondered, fleetingly, if he knew how easily you could get lost in looking at him. If he could feel the weight of your gaze.

Instead of giving in to the impulse, you settled for words. "It's nice out."

"Yeah," he murmured, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror before returning to the road. "Warm for this time of year."

The soft breeze from the slightly cracked window tousled a few strands of his hair. You resisted the urge to reach out, to tuck them behind his ear. You weren't sure when that particular habit had formed—this desire to smooth the edges of his exhaustion, to make things a little easier for him. Maybe it had been there all along, just waiting for the right moment to surface.

Another lull stretched between you, comfortable but weighted. Then—

"Rent's getting ridiculous lately."

You huffed a small laugh, shifting in your seat. "Tell me about it. Feels like the prices jump every time I check."

Aki drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, an almost absentminded motion. His brows furrowed slightly, as if working through a thought. Then—

"How would you feel about living together?"

The words settled between you, unexpected yet not entirely surprising. Your breath caught for just a fraction of a second. It wasn't as if the idea had never crossed your mind—you'd thought about it in passing, imagined what it might be like to share a space, to wake up and find him already in the kitchen, hair tousled from sleep, brewing his first cup of coffee. But hearing him say it aloud, hearing the intent behind it, made your pulse skip in a way that left you unsteady.

You blinked, fingers tightening around the fabric of your pants. "Like... the—" Your throat bobbed. "The four of us?"

"Yeah." His gaze flickered toward you, brief but searching. "The four of us. Get a bigger place."

Your heart did something odd in your chest—something light and quick and startling. You wanted to say yes, immediately, to latch onto the idea before it could slip through your fingers. Aki wasn't the type to bring things up unless he'd thought them through. If he was asking, that meant he'd considered it. That meant he wanted it.

But—

"Aki, I don't know..." Your voice was hesitant, careful. You could hear the uncertainty in it, the part of you that still held back. "I'll think about it. It's just—moving in with someone so quickly, you know?"

He nodded once, slow and understanding, his grip on the wheel remaining steady. "That's valid." A pause. Then, quieter, "Take as much time as you need. If you say no, I'll totally understand. Just let me know. My lease is up soon, at the end of the year. I'll renew it if you want."

There was something about the way he said it—if you want—that made your chest ache. Like the decision was entirely yours, like he wasn't pushing, just offering. Giving you an out, if you needed it. But the truth was, you didn't want an out. 

The answer wasn't no, You just weren't sure if you were ready to say yes.

You swallowed, nodding slowly. "Yeah, okay. I'll—I'll think about it."

Aki hummed in response, the sound low and thoughtful. He didn't press further, didn't push for a quick decision. He just let the conversation settle into the space between you, quiet but not stifling. It was one of the things you liked about him—the way he let things breathe, the way he never made you feel rushed.

The rest of the drive passed in a silence that felt charged but not uncomfortable. There was something brimming beneath it, something unspoken yet understood. A shift, subtle but unmistakable.

In the back, Denji and Power had finally tired themselves out. The board game lay abandoned between them, the checkers pieces rolling lazily across the floor of the car, forgotten. Power had slumped against the window, mouth slightly open in sleep, while Denji leaned back with his arms crossed, head tilted at an awkward angle. They looked peaceful, in their own chaotic way.

You exhaled slowly, watching as the last traces of sunlight dipped below the horizon. The sky darkened, deep blues bleeding into blacks, the first stars blinking to life above.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were heading somewhere you wanted to be.

The rest of the ride went surprisingly quietly. The weight of Aki's words still lingered in the air, settling somewhere deep in your chest, heavy and uncertain. You watched the scenery blur past the window, streetlights flickering on one by one as dusk fully descended. The once-vivid hues of sunset had bled into an inky darkness, and with it came a creeping anxiety that made your fingers twitch in your lap.

Your keys felt foreign in your hands, the cool metal pressing into your palm as you turned them over absentmindedly. You hadn't used them in what felt like years. Time had stretched and twisted, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly when you had last walked through the doors of this house. The thought made your throat tighten, a lump forming that you stubbornly swallowed down.

Aki parked the car in the driveway, the familiar crunch of gravel beneath the tires sending a shiver down your spine. For a long moment, neither of you moved. The house loomed ahead, quiet and still, its windows dark. It looked smaller than you remembered. Or maybe you had just grown.

"You okay?" Aki's voice was gentle, careful.

You let out a shaky breath, forcing a nod. "Yeah. Just... a lot."

He didn't press further. He never did. Instead, he reached over and squeezed your knee, a quiet reassurance before pulling the key from the ignition. You took that as your cue, slowly stepping out of the car. The air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, the same way it always had.

Your hands trembled as you fit the key into the lock. It turned smoothly, with an ease that made your chest ache. Like the house had been waiting for you to come back. The door creaked open, revealing the dim interior, the familiar scent of aged wood and dust greeting you like an old friend.

Stepping inside felt like stepping into a memory. The floorboards groaned under your weight, the walls holding echoes of years past. You walked further in, fingers brushing against the edge of the doorway, as if grounding yourself in reality. Aki followed behind, his presence solid and steady, the only thing keeping you from feeling like you might dissolve into the past.

Your breath hitched. You had told yourself you wouldn't cry. That you were stronger than this. But the moment your eyes landed on the living room—the worn couch, the coffee table still marked with the rings of old mugs, the bookshelves slightly askew—it all came rushing back. Every laugh, every fight, every late-night conversation that had once filled these walls.

Your husband topped off your glass of champagne with a grin, crooning, "Here's to our first night in our new home."

"Cheers," You replied. Your glasses clinked together in the middle.

"Our future begins here," He laughed.

The first tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Then another. You covered your mouth with your hand, squeezing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to compose yourself.

"Hey." Aki's voice was soft, his hand warm as it found the small of your back. "It's okay."

You shook your head, a choked laugh escaping. "I feel so stupid."

"You're not stupid," he said firmly. "You lived here. Of course it's gonna hit hard."

You turned to him, your vision blurred with tears. He was watching you with quiet understanding, his blue eyes holding none of the impatience or awkwardness you had feared. Just patience. Just Aki.

He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "Be strong."

The words shouldn't have meant so much, but they did. Maybe because they came from him.

You nodded, sniffling. "Okay."

Aki let his hand drop but didn't step away, waiting until you had taken a steadying breath before speaking again. "Where should we start?"

Your gaze drifted up the staircase, heart thudding painfully in your chest. "The bedroom."

He nodded. "Alright."

The creak of each step beneath your feet was like a ghost of the past, whispering stories you weren't ready to hear. The hallway was lined with old photos, their frames slightly crooked. You hesitated at one—an old picture of yourself, caught mid-laugh, a younger version of you that felt like a stranger now.

Aki waited patiently, hands in his pockets, giving you the space to process. When you were ready, you pushed open the bedroom door.

The air inside was thick with nostalgia. The bed was still unmade from the last night you had spent here, as if frozen in time. Your old desk sat by the window, covered in dust, a few forgotten papers scattered across the surface. Everything was still. Untouched.

Aki moved first, stepping toward the closet. "I'll start in here."

You nodded, making your way to the drawers, fingers hovering over the handles before finally pulling one open. Clothes you had long forgotten stared back at you—old sweaters, worn-out T-shirts, a jacket you used to love but hadn't thought about in years.

You picked it up, running your fingers over the fabric. It still smelled faintly of home.

Aki glanced over, watching you carefully. "You wanna keep that one?"

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and nodded. "Yeah."

He didn't question it. Just kept folding, packing, moving forward. The steady rhythm of it was grounding, the quiet presence of him beside you a comfort you hadn't realized you needed.

Piece by piece, the room slowly emptied. Every item placed into a box felt like another part of your past being neatly stored away. It hurt, but it also felt necessary. Like closure.

At some point, Aki sat back on his heels, glancing at you. "You good?"

You looked around the room—at the half-packed boxes, at the dust motes drifting in the air, at the man who had somehow become a constant in your life.

You nodded, a small, exhausted smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think so."

At the end of a long, emotional, and tedious day—during which Denji and Power had a competition to see who could pack up your books the fastest, leading to at least three toppled stacks and a heated argument about what counted as 'packed'—you stood idle in the middle of the remnants of what was once your home.

The house was eerily quiet now. For hours, it had been filled with movement, voices, the rustling of cardboard and tape being stretched over boxes. But now, with everything packed, the silence felt thick, almost suffocating. You turned in place slowly, taking it all in—the empty shelves, the dust-covered corners, the pale outlines on the walls where frames had once hung. It was strange, seeing it like this. A hollowed-out version of what it had once been.

Your fingertips skimmed the edge of the kitchen counter as you walked past it. Every surface felt different, unfamiliar, as if stripping the house of its belongings had also stripped it of its warmth. You had spent years here. Laughed here. Cried here. Loved here.

A lump formed in your throat. You swallowed hard against it.

Aki stood near the doorway, watching you carefully. He wasn't rushing you, just waiting, like he always did. Letting you take your time.

You exhaled shakily and turned your gaze to the boxes stacked neatly near the entrance. Everything you had deemed worth keeping was in those boxes. Everything else was being left behind. It was a sobering thought. You had built a life here once, but now that life was packed away, ready to be carried off to someplace new.

This is it.

Your fingers curled into a loose fist at your side. You weren't sure if you had expected closure, or if you had expected something louder—some final, dramatic feeling to mark the end of this chapter. But all you felt was exhaustion. A quiet, aching kind of finality.

Aki took a step toward you. "You ready?"

You nodded, but it felt more like an instinctive reaction than a real answer. Still, you forced yourself to move. Your steps were slow as you made your way to the counter. The key felt heavier than it should have, the cool metal pressing into your palm as you turned it over one last time.

For years, this key had meant something. It had been yours. It had been home. Now, it was just another thing to let go of.

You placed it on the counter with deliberate care, the soft clink of metal against wood ringing through the empty space. It sounded final. It sounded like goodbye.

You let out a slow breath, staring at it for a moment longer, as if expecting it to change, as if expecting to feel something different now that it was done. But the weight in your chest remained the same.

Aki didn't say anything as you turned back toward him. He didn't need to. His expression was calm, steady, a quiet reassurance in the midst of your uncertainty.

You nodded once. "Let's go."

And with that, you walked to the door. Your hand hesitated on the handle for only a second before you pushed it open, stepping out into the cool night air.

The door clicked shut behind you.

It was only when you took that first step away from the house that something in your chest loosened. The weight that had been pressing down on you all day lifted, if only slightly. You could still feel the sadness, the ache of leaving behind something so familiar—but beneath it, something else stirred.

Relief.

Freedom.

a/n: anndddd just like that its officially over. on a scale of 1-10 how relieved are we? i'm a 12, bc i was the one who had to write all of that bs LMFOAOAOA!! OUR GIRL IS FINALLY FREEEEEE GRRRAAAAAAA!!! i cannot believe this story has come this far. it's drawing to a close in a few chapters, though, and i just wanted to take some time to thank all of you for coming along on this ride. this is officially the longest fanfic ive ever written. i loved writing the development of their relationship theyre so marriage coded.  let me know what ending you hope for!!!! (who knows, I might incorporate it into what i have planned ;))) stay tuned! mama loves u all xx

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[proxissima]

I originally didn't want to talk about the Mark/Cecil conflict in the new season, but going into the Cecil tag incited me enough to put in my own two cents.

First things first, I don't think Cecil was necessarily wrong for having a backup plan or using any resource available just to be able to have some sort of defence against an insurmountable alien power.

My issue is a different one.

I personally think the entire conflict felt extremely contrived as it had been presented in the story.

You're telling me that the man who has a backup plan to a backup plan, has seen through Omni-Man's lies in their first meeting (though the reveal of Nolan turning out to having been such an incompetent liar is another complaint I have with this season), has been manipulating/deceiving Debbie, Mark, basically all of the guardians for years, would be dumb enough to outright attack Mark in front of EVERYONE - which also was completely out of the blue from the guardians' POV - and expect them to remain on his side??

Cecil's more than proven himself to be a capable strategist in the past and you seriously want to tell me that he couldn't have thought to appease Mark's doubts and just de-escalate the whole situation instead of springing all that "you're scaring me, so by the way, here are all the methods I've concocted behind your back to hurt/kill you" on Mark?

This was the same guy who went to face Omni-Man directly just to buy time and he was a hairs-breadth away from getting turned into paste, but now he lost his nerves immediately and thought that was the ideal moment to demonstrate to Mark just how little he trusts him?

Mark had simply been upset at the revelation that two ex-criminals were working for Cecil and wanted to confront him about it, but that was just a hero's outrage over grey morals. I'd still argue that that was nothing that couldn't have been smoothed over ultimately (not that there wouldn't be any negative consequences for the relationship between them in the long run), but this Cecil saw an insect and decided that nuking the entire town was a perfectly proportional response.

You can't tell me he had no clue about Mark's character because 1) he was witness to how Mark reacted to his father's rampage, 2) he'd continuously kept tabs on his entire family, friends & love interests via observation AND via the nanny. From all those terabytes of data, any basic AI would've told Cecil that Mark wouldn't suddenly go rogue and murder Cecil on the spot because he was a little angry in that moment.

It would've made somewhat more sense if Cecil had attacked Mark because he genuinely wanted to be rid of the potential threat Mark as a Viltrumite posed (which would, overall, still be incredibly fucking stupid in the given circumstances) and then actually go through with it from start to finish, no half measures garbage.

But instead, this Cecil - while he was sicking the Reanimen on Mark and ADDITIONALLY dropping the bomb on him that he'd had a self-destruct button implanted into Mark's brain against the latter's will or knowledge - for some ungodly reason was STILL acting like Mark was being the drama queen here and expected Mark to be open to dialogue at that point. And after all of this, Cecil was somehow surprised when Mark refused to listen and was defending himself because he was fearing for his life.

Not to mention that Cecil provoked Mark to flee to the guardians, where Cecil, entirely unprompted, continued to escalate, all in front of the gathered team, who had had no clue about the nature of the Reanimen and had previously clearly been willing to give Cecil the benefit of the doubt OVER Mark. The team had also been completely uninvolved in the conflict between them, which meant that Cecil, had he not attacked Mark first, still possibly could've spun the story like Mark was actually the one in the wrong, when they did get involved. (I'm gonna say that it undoubtedly would've been difficult since Cecil had already told Mark about the bomb prior, so atp the split up might've still happened in the end, albeit without the actual fight)

I'd argue legit none of this would've happened, however, had Cecil only turned his brain on, played his cards right and, most importantly, KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT ABOUT THE COUNTERMEASURES. At the worst, Mark might've left the group, but Cecil could've just told the guardians about Sinclair and Darkwing, and they most likely would've seen reason, shrugged, and continued working for Cecil. They only split up, after all, when the question of Cecil only viewing them as weapons to be used and discarded at will came up, which, again, would never have happened had Cecil just not told Mark shit about plans B & C.

Tl;dr so yeah, my issue isn't about Mark or Cecil being right or wrong, it's about Cecil being a fucking dumbass who revealed all his trump cards in a mustache-twirling villain fashion for no reason at all. This felt like a weak-point to the story itself, because Cecil's decisions were just mind-bogglingly stupid and uncharacteristically reckless (OOC).

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for not helping a teenager?

My deepest apologies. This is going to be rather lengthy.

For context, the teenager in question, R (15M), and I (don't remember, M) both arrived on this particular island with amnesia, albeit at different times and at different places. I had arrived first, and was accepted with open arms by the first village I happened upon, even ascending to an important position as the caretaker of one of the village's sacred animals. I am glad, and rather fortunate, to call these people my kinsmen.

R, on the other hand, ended up arriving at this other village, where the leader, K (40s M), was quite hostile to him. Despite his young age, he had to pass a trial before even being given shelter, to make sure he could pull his weight. Also, he was tasked with fighting multiple rampaging sacred animals by himself, which is how we met. While the animal I was in charge of was not one of those on the rampage, I work in the area close to where one of them was, and my own ward had the ability to help R reach the rampaging sacred animal, so I was tasked with bringing him to the fight, during which he prevailed, as usual. R and I had a conversation of sorts on the way, which helped me gain some clarity on my life and what I wanted to do after these rampages had been quelled, and for that I am grateful to him.

Right after R finished solving all these rampages, however, the sky turned red; it seemed to be the onset of the apocalypse, and the heart of it seemed to be the area I was in charge of. I spent most of my time during the apocalypse hurrying back and forth between my village and the area, making sure everyone was safe. I didn't see R until a while later after the apocalypse, during which he was furious with me.

Apparently, during the apocalypse, K exiled R from the village on suspicion of being the one to cause it, and many people in the village also agreed with that sentiment. It was only through the kindness of a few others, including my village leader, I (17F), and a young colleague of mine, L (12M), that he was able to survive, and then fix the apocalypse through intense fighting. Even despite his success, the whole experience was, understandably, an ordeal, knowing that many people blamed and hated him for something he didn't even do.

For that, R directed his anger at me for not supporting him during his time of need. Back then, after the situation in my area was settled, I decided to head down to the village R was staying at for a change of scenery, and R had kept coming to find me. Showing off all his new discoveries, or simply talking about his day - I've been told he does not do this with anyone else, implying he seemed to view me as someone he was close to.

I'm personally unsure how to feel about this; I know there are people I am missing, but R isn't a replacement for them, and it would be unfair to see him as one. It's rather difficult for me to form close bonds with anyone here in general as well, knowing that this isn't where I'm supposed to be. For that time, I treated R like I would any other person - politely and respectfully. According to him, though, he "thought we were best friends" and "trusted [me] more than anyone else" because "[I'm] the only one who can truly understand what [he's] been through", and so he felt especially betrayed that I wasn't there to help him.

I don't even know how I didn't run into him at all during his exile, but that's probably the will of the gods. If I had, I would've tried to help, given he's literally 15 years old; but it would admittedly be difficult as it is likely that K was also keeping tabs on me as a suspicious person, and could've punished me as well if I was seen 'conspiring' with R, and I wouldn't be able to fulfill my duty to my people in that case.

TL:DR, a teenager I met apparently considered me a close friend (but it wasn't reciprocal) and was furious at me for not being there for him when he was in a dire situation. I had other commitments at that time, but even then, I feel guilty for not helping him. AITA?

[saltcxrcle]

IM BACK BITCHES !

⟡ so as you can tell from this post, im officially back from my hiatus!

i honestly could have come back sooner but i just wanted to ride out the month of october so i didn't feel overwhelmed if i came back when i thought i felt better and not at 100%.

but yes a month long break was necessary for me and my mental health since i had been on tumblr consistently for a good 3 years at this point without one, so it was a long time coming.

but now im feeling a lot better and ive been slowly just easing myself into using the site again and exposing myself to my activity tab (r.e my hiatus announcement) and now i don't feel any kind of anxiety when seeing it so its progress! (i have yet check it thought but as soon as this is posted, i will be sorting through it)

with not being on the app/site, ive had some spare time open up for me and i've been utilizing it and i got back into journaling which was something i had been trying to do for the longest time but i treated this place as my digital one but clearly it didn't work out the way I wanted.

anyways moving on, I also was able to write quite a bit while on my break and i feel good about them because i didn't have the pressure of posting them right away.

but since i did write some fics! im so excited to share them with you guys so i made schedule of what/when im posting them and that'll be posted later today!

speaking of fics i made a poll before i went on hiatus about making a tag list for my fics and the majority of votes wanted me to make a tag list so i made a separate post for the tag list and how you can be added! [taglist has been posted]

with the housekeeping out of the way. yayy im back!! life has been great this past october and as sad as i was that i couldn't give you guys live updates, ill post them some of them here :P

i've made some more friends in my classes and I went to my first concert ever! it was a conan gray concert and ill make a separate post about my fit and the experience since it was so fun! other than that it was a relaxing month and my brother was in town and visited for a week and a half so having to share my room with my sister wasn't the best time but nonetheless we survived nonetheless LOL

anyways enough rambling! i have to say that i can't wait to binge everyone's kinktober and just the fics i've missed on here in general! im so happy to be back and im just so excited to share the things i have planned with you guys! (i'm so back guys ahhh!)

ive missed you all so much and i hope that everyone was doing well when i was gone <3

+++

tagging some of my moots to let them know im back: @sammyluvr / @ohsc / @s4wdvator / @sylvia-plaths-fig-pie / @arjwrites /

@heliads / @percyluvr