seamlessly--content

[99naive]

GUYS WILLIAM STARTS HIS NEW JOB THE 18TH OMG HE FINALLY HEARD BACK FROM THE GUY

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) they help you with money problems ! ୨୧ 一 스트레이키즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ when times are tough skz is there to help ヾ

boyfriend!스트레이키즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ angst, fluff ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ money problems‎ wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. this was a request but i accidentally deleted when i was clearing out request...

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : bangchan﹚ .ᐟ

only figures it out when he finds you crying because you wanted to buy him a gift for his birthday, but you were unable to get the one you wanted because you couldn't afford it and even if you saved up for it would take too long. “i don't care what gift you get me.” he says, comforting you. “i like the one you got me.” he said. “i can't even get you a good gift.” he never cared about gifts , he hated seeing you like this. “baby please quit this job , it's not doing anything but stressing you and underpaying you.” he said. “chan i need the money , to pay bills.” you said. “i can't just quit.” he would never tell you to quit your job if he wasn't prepared to tell you he was ready to take care of you. “i have the means to take care of you.” he said. “i don't want to be a burden for you.” “it's a burden seeing you break down over not being able to pay your bills because your job is shit.” you didn't know how to thank him , but he didn't want one.

“don't thank me , just work on unstressing yourself.”

﹙ 𐙚 : lee know﹚ .ᐟ

both of you are pretty stubborn and you're so used to being independent and he just doesn't understand why are you so hell bent in not letting him help you; so it causes an argument. “it's not that big of a deal.” lee know said. “im your boyfriend , giving you money shouldn't piss you off this much.” you rolled your eyes. “it doesn't piss me off , i just don't need your money.” you said. “i heard you crying about not being able to pay your electric bill , what are you gonna do , let your lights get turned off.” you began to get frustrated. “i’ll handle it.” you said. “by working yourself to death?” he shot back , leaving you silent. “take the money.” he said. “i'll pay you back.” he scoffed.

“i won't take it and you know it , stop being stupid.”

﹙ 𐙚 : changbin﹚ .ᐟ

will never care about taking care of you and your needs; he'd even prefer it — seeing you stress stresses him out and he feels like as your boyfriend he should be the one taking care of you anyway. so when he sees you constantly working, it upsets him , and when you start having to cancel dates and spending time with him because you have to work, thats his final straw. “no this is the third date you've canceled.” he said over the phone. “binnie i have to work.” of course you felt bad , but rent needed to be paid. “let me pay your rent for a few months,” he said. “i can't — don't tell me you can't , you can and you will.” he said. “changbin— no im paying for it , i'll send the check to your landlord.” you didn't know what to say. “thank you so much binnie.” you said , so thankful for your boyfriend. “yah , why are you thanking me , this is my job!”

“now clock out and go home, im coming over with some food.”

﹙ 𐙚 : hyunjin﹚ .ᐟ

he would never ask you to quit your job , he knows you'd never do that , but he was also tired of seeing the love of his life stress about cash or constantly working overtime just to stay above water. he also knew you'd die before letting him take care of you fully , even though he was ready to take on the responsibility. “how about 50/50 ?” he asked. “i pay for somethings and you can pay for somethings , when you get a different job we can stop if you want.” he offered. “i don't want to be a burden.” you said. “how would you be a burden if you're paying 50%?” he said holding your hand. “i would rather pay 100% and have you move in with me.”

“but 50% will have to do now , at least i will have you around me.”

﹙ 𐙚 : han jisung﹚ .ᐟ

you accidentally snap at him one day , you didn't mean to and could tell you didn't mean it because you drop down , apologizing profusely, confessing to him about how you were stressed about money and you were just at your breaking point. “whoa , it's okay.” he comforted you. “i know you didn't mean it.” he said. “i’m so sorry ji , i just don't know what I'm gonna do.” he doesn't see anything wrong with his next request. “oh i'll help you.” he said. “i would never ask you to do that.” you said. “i wasn't asking you , i was telling you , if money is the problem , i have the money.” he said. “if i have it then it's yours baby.” he said. “really?” he nodded. “as long as you're happy and not yelling at me , then I'll pay for everything.” you shook your head. “i don't need you to do that.”

“i mean you can try and stop me , but doesn't mean im gonna listen.”

﹙ 𐙚 : felix﹚ .ᐟ

notices you look more and more tired every time you see him , you look more and more skinny and he is just confused. “baby?” he sits you down one day. “yes.” he immediately ask you what's wrong. “you're not looking so good , what's wrong?” he just assumes you're not taking care of yourself , but when you break down and tell him that your job isn't paying you enough , and you have to take different shifts and you barely had money to pay bills let alone the proper food. he lets you finish everything before he just wraps his arms around you and calms you down. “you should've told me , i could've helped you , i want to help you.” he said. “i couldn't do that.” he ignores that. “and watch you struggle? no , until we can get you a new job with better pay , i'll pay for anything you need.”

“you don't have to do this to yourself , let me take care of you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : seungmin﹚ .ᐟ

much like lee know it would often cause arguments , seungmin being more traditional he was always taught a man should be taking care of his love — but how can he do that when his love is probably one of the most stubborn people to ever so graciously walked the earth. “i don't want your money , i can get it on my own.” you had recently lost your job and it was tough finding a job and your bills weren't stopping. “you'll be on the street before than , don't be stupid and let me take care of you.” you scoffed. “so now you don't think i can do it?” he knew you were just frustrated. “i never said that , i said you don't have to do it now if you stop being stubborn and just let me take care of you.” he said. “i can't pay you back.” he rolled his eyes. “why would i ask you to do that?”

“just stay with me and everything you need and want is yours.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jeongin﹚ .ᐟ

he understands that you don't want him to take care of you; no he wouldn't mind it all , but you don't want that , so he helps you find a better job. jeongin is a researcher , he spends all his free time finding jobs for you , picking out all the jobs you'd be qualified for and pays better than your recent job , sending them to you. he's so focused , he helps you fill out a better resume and all. “should we lie a bit?” he sat at your laptop. “no we shouldn't.” you said. “just a little bit , nothing too crazy.” he said. “yeah like what?” you asked , eyebrows raised. “maybe you speak three language.” “but i don't.” “well then learn spanish because im putting it down.” when you get the job he's more excited than you. “i got the job!” he's celebrating. “i knew you could do it , and it pays 3x times more, so you don't have to slave 7 days a week.” he's smiling seeing the light come back into your eyes.

“told you , they love when you speak other languages , but let's actually pick up a spanish book just in case.”

©LUVYENI

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie lowered his guard during a late night conversation, revealing crucial details about his past. But was it enough for you to reciprocate? (4.3k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, brief mention of neglect, brief mention of sex work, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter four: show me yours, i'll show you mine

If convincing Eddie to take the job wasn’t enough of a struggle, you still had to explain the situation to your parents.

Hi Mom and Dad, I invited a guest to help fix up the motel. The same one who stole a blanket–but don’t worry, I got it back. Oh, and he’ll be staying here for free.

They were understandably taken aback by your decision, especially without consulting them first, but you’d mustered up a strong argument: Eddie was young, he was easy to get along with, and he showed a basic sense of personal responsibility. Not to mention that the place could certainly use the repairs; peeling wallpaper was just the tip of the iceberg. Lightbulbs needed to be replaced, carpets needed to be scrubbed, and the outside of the building desperately needed to be power washed. 

“Plus, summer break doesn’t start for another few weeks,” you hastily added. “We won’t need to worry about renting out Eddie’s room until then.”

Mom arched an eyebrow at the newfound ascription—not room four, but Eddie’s room—but said nothing, only looking at your father for his seal of approval. 

He breathed out, long and low, trying to do the calculations in his head. Your heart flip-flopped when his gaze dropped to the ground, his signature move when he was about to tell you no. 

“If he doesn’t help out, he can’t afford to stay here anyway. It’s not like we’re losing money if he keeps the room for a bit.” You winced at the slight whine in your voice, the opposite of the infallible exterior you’d wanted to present. 

Dad laughed, not unkindly, but belittlement panged in your chest nonetheless. “Except for the water, air conditioning, and electricity he uses,” he pointed out, ticking off each item on his fingers. “Unless he plans to only sit in the dark, sweat, and never shower.” He sighed as unmistakable disappointment weaved into your eyes and filled them with tears. 

Now you’d have to tell Eddie that the offer was off the table, that he was shit out of luck, that you’d let him down. You never should’ve opened your big mouth in the first place. Captain Save-the-World, except you only ever made things worse. If you wore a cape, it would get snagged on tree branches each time you tried to fly.

“You have a good heart,” Mom spoke up, trying to nurse your wounded feelings, “but kindness doesn’t pay the bills.” She glanced at Dad again, her mouth set in a straight line. “Maybe we can discuss this further.”

You fought to ignore the hope that bloomed from her words, but the corners of your mouth turned upwards before you could rein it in. “Thank you,” you murmured, offering them both a grateful smile. 

People called you a ‘bleeding heart,’ teasing you about your constant attempts to solve problems beyond a reasonable scope. At last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, your uncle had informed you—unprompted—that he would never vote for you for President because “you’d just give all my money to the poor.”

While your parents were more realistic with their goals than you were, they did their best to encourage your compassionate spirit; there was no doubt that you got your sense of morality from them. After deliberating on Eddie’s fate for a few hours, they had finally relented—with one stipulation. 

“Your mother and I are not going to supervise him, so he’ll have to work night shifts with you,” Dad had said sternly. 

“Really?” You clapped your hands in celebration. “Thank you! I mean, um, Eddie thanks you.”

Dad gave your shoulders a quick squeeze; it was his version of you’re welcome. “Yeah, well.” He played it cool, keeping his tone breezy. “It’ll be good practice for when you take over the place.”

You’d nodded in response, your insides twisting in a clashing mix of excitement and shame. Eddie wouldn’t have to live on the street, but it required you to continue lying to your parents. 

I’ll tell them the truth once Eddie finds a real job and gets his own place. I can only handle one crisis at a time. 

That was how you’d found yourself spending your Tuesday evening with Eddie Munson. The motel was otherwise empty, save for your parents, a middle-aged trucker in room 7, and Phyllis in her usual digs.

You and Dad had spent the end of his shift covering the floor with giant flimsy drop cloths. They hadn’t been used in years, evidenced by the thin layer of dust that coated them when you’d dug them out from the back of the supply closet. You’d tried your best to shake it all off but instead sent yourself into a sneezing fit. 

Eddie sauntered into the lobby at a quarter after ten. Gray sweatpants sagged at his waist, the drawstring noticeably missing from the elastic band, and his white cotton undershirt had a tan stain that spread across his left pec. 

“Coffee,” he explained with a shrug, rolling a hair tie off of his wrist and pulling his curls into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He looked at you blankly and waited for you to instruct him, but you had already dove into your schoolwork. “Um, is there a ladder? Tools?” He pursed his lips and scanned the room with indifference.

“Oh! Right, yeah.” You could have smacked yourself for not having everything set up for him. “We don’t have a ladder per se, but this step stool should work fine.” You pulled it out from behind the desk along with a scoring tool, a spray bottle filled with a vinegar and water solution, and a putty knife. “I also grabbed the clock radio from my room if you wanted to listen to some music. Might help pass the time.”

Eddie nodded, watching carefully as you switched the radio on and tuned the dial to a Top 40 station. He shook his head the moment the electric beat of Haddaway’s “What is Love” played through the tinny speakers.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a scoff, dropping the supplies right where he stood, footsteps heavy even with the cloth underneath him. Without another word, he spun the knob past the static until the sound of an electric guitar crackled through. He bobbed his head a few times, finding the rhythm. “This’ll do.” 

“Not a Eurodance fan?”

His back was turned to you as he returned to the task at hand which left him unable to see the sarcastic smirk you sported. “Fuck no.” He stepped up on the tool and began cutting into the old wallpaper, puffing out an irritated laugh. “I can’t believe—scratch—you voluntarily—scratch—listen to that–scratch–shit.” His biceps flexed with each flick of the blade in a consistent rhythm. 

Drumming your fingernails on the desk, you twirled your pen in your free hand as you reread your own handwriting. You’d stayed at the library and filled notebook pages with bullet points about early childhood development until a squirrely librarian kicked you out at closing time. The choppy sentence fragments begged to be fleshed out into a fully-formed essay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus.

Write words. Make edits. Add a comma. Do something, anything, dammit.

Almost an hour passed without you making an iota of progress on your paper. The words swam on the page until they just looked like inky squiggles with no real meaning, your brain blank as if you’d never written anything in your life. Cool air tickled your nose as you exhaled through your lips. Why couldn’t you just concentrate?

“It’s this music,” you muttered to yourself, too low for your company to hear. Your temples throbbed with frustration, and you reached over and snapped back to the previous station. 

Eddie’s head whipped around at the sudden change, frowning when he heard pop music instead of the metal that had just been playing. “Seriously?” He leaned one hand on the wall and threw the other up in exasperation. 

“Yes, seriously,” you bit back, teeth clenched in annoyance. “I can’t focus on my writing with that on.”

Eddie grumbled something unintelligible but went back to work, the scratching serving as a strange backdrop to the song. 

Janet Jackson faded out to a too-chipper deejay. “You folks know what time it is!” His voice reminded you of old-school toothpaste commercials, over-exaggerated and unnaturally polished. “That’s right; it’s time for Rad or Retch—where I play a song from a new artist, and you call in and let me know whether you think it’s rad or if it makes you wanna retch!” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, adding an exasperated “Jesus H. Christ,” under his breath. 

“This one’s called ‘Watch Me Leave’ by Death’s Echo, a grunge group from—”

The announcement came to an abrupt end as Eddie nearly leaped from the stool to the desk and yanked the plug out of its socket. The two-pronged head hit the floor with a soft thud. 

“Hey!” Your eyes widened in confusion and then disbelief, flickering over to where he stood. You expected him to wear a scowl that matched your own; instead, he looked like he’d just taken a knife to the gut, and you took a step back. “Whoa, you okay?”

Eddie tensed the moment he detected your sympathetic tone, shoulders pinched and jaw rigid. “‘M fine.” He pressed the heel of his left hand atop his right knuckles until they cracked. “Sorry.” He bent down and gently plugged the cord back into the wall, but you immediately flicked the power button to the off-position. 

It was silent for a full minute, save for the scorer against the wall and the scratch of pen on paper. When Eddie finally spoke, his voice was so soft that you barely heard it.

“That was my band.”

Confusion creased your brows. You set down your pen and stole a glance at him. His body remained facing the wall, but he was no longer working, hands lamely at his sides. “What?”

“Death’s Echo was, uh,” he shook a rogue curl from his eyes, “that was my band.”

“Oh.” Awkwardness seeped into the room and filled every crevice as you wracked your brain for a suitable response. “But…not anymore?”

Eddie clicked his tongue. “Nope.” The p sound popped softly as though signaling the discussion’s end, but there was a pregnant pause before he started removing the wallpaper again.

“Why not?” The question sprang from your tongue, curiosity getting the best of you.

A hesitant chuckle accompanied his sigh. “I thought you didn't make small talk with strangers.” He climbed back on the step stool and ripped off a strip of paper.

“I thought we weren’t strangers anymore,” you quipped back, not missing the smile that ghosted his lips.

“Fair enough.” Eddie conceded easily, not at all angry to be proven wrong. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared up at the yellow-tinged lighting overhead before slicing into the wallpaper. “Sometimes you think you want something, but it turns out to be a steaming pile of horseshit.” The last word was punctuated by a grunt, and the last panel of wallpaper fluttered to the ground. “That’s the music industry in a nutshell.”

You nodded in agreement despite an obvious lack of knowledge.

“They sign your band,” he continued, aiming the spray bottle nozzle at the wall and pulling the trigger, “and you think it’s because they like you. Or at least your music, your sound, whatever.” He wrinkled his nose as he got an unexpected whiff of the vinegar solution’s pungency. “But you’re really just a front for whatever they want to sell. Which, apparently, is grunge.” 

You had too many questions. They probably referred to record producers or agents or some other bigwigs, you surmised, but what did they do that made Eddie so cynical? 

That was far too loaded to ask, at least in that moment, so you opted for a more humorous follow-up. “You mean it wasn’t all sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll?” you joked, but Eddie didn’t share in your lightheartedness. 

“At the beginning, when we first got signed, yeah.” His brown eyes exuded wistfulness, remembrance of better times. He blinked twice and snapped himself out of it. “We put out a few albums that didn’t completely flop, I guess. And we were the opening act on a couple of tours. Got a good chunk of money in the bank.”

That explained the Calvin Klein underwear he was wearing on that first night. You capped your pen and leaned in, trying not to be overly inquisitive but unable to contain yourself. “So…what happened?” What led you here?

“We get called into a meeting, and we’re all thinking that the label’s gonna tell us we’re headlining, right? Maybe not, like, The Garden, but bigger venues than we usually played. But, uh…” he trailed off and rubbed the tip of his nose with an open palm, “it was an ultimatum: shift from metal to grunge, or get dropped.”

You listened intently as Eddie relayed the ordeal. The label executives had cited the increasing popularity of Nirvana and Pearl Jam along with decreasing interest in heavy metal bands. “Cobain’s selling; Ozzy isn’t,” they’d explained. If Death’s Echo wanted to play to packed arenas and have their music on mainstream radio, they had to adapt to the times.

“I told them we weren’t sellouts and to kiss my ass,” Eddie said to you, huffing out an annoyed breath. “But the rest of the band didn’t give a shit about that; if those suits told them to jump, they’d say ‘how high.’ So, I quit and waited for them to come crawling back.” 

He didn’t elaborate after that. He didn’t need to. Because if they’d done as Eddie had hoped, he wouldn’t be performing manual labor just to live in a struggling motel, basking in the gloominess that he wore like a second skin.

“If you could go back and do it differently, would you?” You grimaced at your own intrusiveness. “Sorry, that was—”

“It’s fine.” Eddie didn’t give an answer right away, his teeth grating against his lower lip. “Y’know, I’d like to say no, but losing your record deal, your apartment, your girlfriend, your so-called ‘friends,’ and every nice thing you own can make a guy kinda cynical.”

Girlfriend?

It was far from the most dire item on that list, but it needled at you. Maybe it was the mental image of Eddie watching everything get taken from him and then adding heartbreak on top of it all. 

“How about you?”

His voice yanked you from your thoughts and had your heart in your throat. “Huh?”

“You. Your whole deal.” He gestured at you with the scraper. “Why you’re always doing homework like a little nerd.” You couldn't detect a note of taunting in his teasing, only playfulness, just as it had been that very first night. 

You scowled for only a second before a smile broke through. “Don’t you have wallpaper to remove?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh. “I see how it is: when it’s my shit, I’m free to talk. But when it’s your shit, I’m a lowly employee.” He held up both hands in mock surrender. “My deepest apologies, Heiress.”

You didn’t bother to argue, choosing instead to pivot to a new subject altogether. “How long does this take, anyway?” Walking out from behind the desk to inspect his work, you ran your finger down the wall. Once you got past the stench of vinegar, he was actually doing a pretty good job.  

“You think you could do better?” He saw your gentle ribbing and upped the ante, holding out the putty scraper as if saying, be my guest.

Plucking it from his grasp, you smirked and chose a spot right at eye level. Challenge accepted. 

Though the glue had softened considerably, removing it still required decent muscle. You put your bodyweight into it and pushed through the resistance, but you only managed to pull off a little bit. 

You heard Eddie laugh through his nose as he stood behind you, watching you struggle. “Harder than it looks, huh?” He ignored your middle finger and stepped a half-inch closer. “Let me help.”

One calloused hand dwarfed yours, his fingers wrapping around where your fist held the scraper. The other found purchase on the bicep of your free arm where your T-shirt’s cuff met skin, stabilizing without entrapping you. You could easily get out of his grasp if you wanted. 

You stayed there. 

He tightened his grip around yours and made short, downward strokes, admittedly taking off far more glue than you had. “There ya go,” he murmured. His breath was warm on your neck, gooseflesh rising when he spoke. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Just like that.”

Butterflies beat their wings in your stomach, a result of the unexpected proximity compounded by an unmet need for connection that starkly contrasted the night shift’s normal solitude. A loose tendril of his hair tickled against your ear, and the realization of how close your bodies actually were shattered whatever spell had been cast. 

Eddie pulled away quickly, the air cooling where his hand once rested. Did he also feel that sudden loss of contact, or was it all in your head?

With a shaky breath, you stepped aside and silently returned the tool to him. “Should probably leave this to the expert,” you muttered, forcing nervous laughter. “I have to get back to writing anyway.”

His eyes bored into you as you walked back to the desk, but neither of you said another word. You glanced over at him every so often, noting the perspiration dampening his collar and under his arms as he toiled away at the glue and wished you had a water bottle to offer him.

Maybe next time. 

You got halfway through the first body paragraph when Eddie spoke again.

“You’re really not gonna talk?”

You looked up to see him swipe his forearm along his brows as he shot you a tired grin.

“We just had a whole conversation,” you pointed out, returning your attention to your essay. 

“About me,” he said. He wiped his palms on his pants, leaving behind a sweaty print, and traipsed over to you. “I mean, every time I see you, you’re either going to school or coming back from school or doing work for school…” 

You shrugged, no big deal. “Okay, yeah, I go to school.”

“For what?”

Shit. “Hospitality and hotel management.”

“Really.” Eddie leaned over and snatched up your paper. You reached out to grab it back, but it was too late. The bridge of his nose scrunched as he read the opening paragraph to himself. “Doesn’t look like hospitality to me.” Amusement raised his brows. “Care to explain?”

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you felt strangely obligated. He’d confided in you, so you should at least moderately indulge him. 

“Fine,” you relented, “I’m studying psychology.” That might have been the first time you’d ever said those words aloud in the motel lobby; it was oddly freeing. 

Eddie nodded and continued to scan the paper. “You wanna be a shrink?”

“Social worker.” 

He let out a low whistle. “That’s a tough gig. Especially if you’re working with kids.” He shook the essay pages for emphasis. 

“Yeah. I know.”

“Right.” He shoved one hand in his pants pocket. “What made you decide to be a social worker?”

You breathed out a laugh. “You want the easy answer or the real one?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering. “Real one. Always.” He returned your essay and rested his un-pocketed hand on the desk. Inquiring eyes beckoned you to continue.

With less trepidation than you’d anticipated, you tell him the story of that fateful day in the summer of 1987, just two years after you’d graduated from high school.

You were still working the afternoon shift, and summer break brought its usual influx of guests. People came and went in blurs of luggage, but there was one particular patron who had made her presence known.

“Hi!”

You peered over the desk to find the source of the lively greeting. A young girl, no older than five, stared back at you, syrupy grape stickiness surrounding her lips. The cause was most likely a popsicle, as evidenced by the purple stained stick clenched in her right hand.

“Um, hi,” you said with a smile that was, for the first time in a long while, not encased in customer service insincerity. “What’s your name?” And where did you come from?

Unfazed by your bewilderment, she introduced herself as Izzy and asked you if you wanted to play. “We just have to stay here, or else my mommy will get mad,” she explained with urgency.

You nodded slowly, sorting through the information without raising any alarm. “And where is your mommy?”

Izzy’s hazel eyes darted back towards the hallway. “In our room. She’s with a friend so I can’t go in.” She dropped her voice to what she considered a whisper, but it was still clear as day. “Her friend is a boy.”

Your stomach turned. Of course. Instead of watching her child, this mother was probably shooting up with her boyfriend of the week. 

“I can’t play right now, but you can sit here with me until your mommy and her friend come back out,” you said. “I have paper and pens if you wanna draw.”

This satisfied her, and she plopped down on the floor and patted the spot next to her. That day hadn’t been particularly hectic, so you obliged and sat.

“What’re you gonna draw?” Izzy asked, reaching for a blue pen. You didn’t have time to answer before she proudly announced, “I’m gonna draw a flower. Do you like flowers?”

“Mhm.”

Izzy smiled as she surrounded a circle with swirling loops. “You can draw a flower, too. Maybe a rose. Or a sunflower!”

Her excitement at the latter option was all you needed. “Sunflower it is, Miss Izzy.” You drew a circle of your own and filled it with a cross-hatched pattern, curating pointed-tipped petals around it. 

“D’you have crayons?” she asked, not looking up from her own flower.

You put down your pen and offered a pitying frown. “No, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. You should get some, though. ‘Cause you can draw prettier flowers with crayons.” 

The two of you stayed on the floor for ten minutes. All the while, she quizzed you on your favorite color, animal, food, and TV show. She was halfway through a heated explanation of why Friend Bear was superior to Share Bear when a frantic voice called out her name. 

“Mommy!” Izzy practically flew into her mother’s arms. You watched as the woman’s entire body sagged in relief, pulling her daughter in close. A man trailed behind her, discreetly zipping up his fly and walking out the front door. 

“Izzy, I told you to sit in the hall and eat your ice pop,” her mom gently scolded, words muffled by her lips being pressed to Izzy’s scalp. 

Izzy scrunched her nose in confusion. “But I finished it.” She pointed at the empty stick, now on the ground where she’d been sitting, as proof. In true childlike fashion, she jumped to a new topic without waiting for the first conversation to conclude. “Mommy, you wanna see what I drawed?”

“Of course, baby.” She easily feigned excitement as Izzy presented her with a series of scribbles that were meant to be various flowers, people, and farm animals. “Wow! I think you’re gonna be an artist one day.”

The little girl continued chatting, blissfully unaware of the panic she’d inadvertently caused. Her mom allowed herself to look away for just a moment to glance at you, mouthing a tiny “thank you” and blinking her tear-filled eyes.

“And…I don’t know,” you lamely supplied as you wrapped up the story. “I guess I realized that I had all of these assumptions, this sort of preconceived notion that this woman was a deadbeat parent, but she obviously loved Izzy more than anything.” You picked at your thumbnail nervously. “No one should have to sell their body for money just to survive. She deserved better than that.” 

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing everything you’d thrown at him. “And you wanted to help her,” he finally said.

“Yeah.” You thought back to the way her gaze simultaneously held gratitude and guilt. Her daughter was safe, but she knew that this was not the final time she’d be in this predicament.

The experience had awakened a realization in you: working at the motel was never your dream, but it kept a roof over your head and food in your belly. You weren’t left to navigate the world on your own. Independence was a privilege, not a mandate.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie broke in, “I think you’ll be a great social worker someday.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice and slipped back to the awaiting task; despite insisting that you talked to him while he worked, he hadn’t touched any of the tools while you spoke.

Your smile was a thank you, and you tuned the radio back to the metal station Eddie had chosen earlier. He didn’t say anything else, but you noted the subtle tap of his toe against the drop cloth.

Eddie worked for a few more hours until he’d stripped the wall of all paper and glue. “All right,” he said, balancing the step stool on two fingers. Sleepiness softened his own smile, all lips and no teeth. “Let me know when the new wallpaper comes in. You, uh, know where I live.”

“Will do.” Your thumb absently grazed against the words you’d just written, smudging them. You rubbed at the black ink seeping into your skin, silently chastising your own carelessness. “Good night, Eddie.”

He stretched and scratched at the U-neck of his collar, exposing a sliver of chest hair. 

“Sweet dreams, Heiress.”

--

taglist:

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[vauxxy]

KILLER

spiderman!luke castellan x reader

part 1 || part 2

★ "i am sick of the chase but i'm hungry for blood, and theres nothing i can do"

ABOUT - luke castellan is new york's very own 'friendly neighbourhood spider-man'- because of course he fuckin' is. to make matters even better, you're the only one at school who knows. lucky you.

WARNINGS - australian slang yet again (sorry guys, i cant help it. its in my blood!), swearing, first person?? idk i thought it'd be cool. sorry if it sucks. lol. mentions of adderall (she has ADHD) and vaping. reader is a rich girl and the leader of the sassy girl apocolypse.

"are you okay, ma'am?"

"dont call me ma'am, luke."

"okay, what the fuck."

that's how i found out the nerd in my AP chemistry class was spider-boy. i mean, obviously i had caught on to his whole 'superhero thing' like, a week after the news articles started flooding in. it was so obvious.

luke is probably one of the only guys in the world dumb enough to put on a latex suit in order to help old ladies cross the street. sure, he's a good samaritan- and sure, he's saving small businesses from being mugged into bankruptcy and shit; but who cares?

every night, i see him swinging from building to building like a fucking weirdo. it gets old after the first 100 foot drop down from the hilton hotels building. like, we get it. you're spider-man. good for you.

sadly, my cynicism was brought to a halt as soon as he saved me from being brutally robbed on my way home. of course i got mugged on the one day i decided not to wear my doc martens. just my luck.

i used to cut through this sketchy alleyway to get to my bus stop because it took way too long walking around the block- that was my first mistake. DO NOT GO INTO SKETCHY ALLEYWAYS IN NEW YORK. NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS IN AN ALLEYWAY.

my second mistake was deciding against popping my second addy during 5th period, because if i had, then maybe i'd be alert enough to clock what was happening before this druggie had his glock pointed at my head. well, at least it wasn't his dick. praise the lord!

the druggie snuck behind me, before literally grabbing me by the neck and pushing me up against the wall of the dingy alleyway. then, he pulled out a WHOLE ASS GUN from his pocket and held it to my head, using the sleeve of his sweater to cover its form.

my breath hitched as the water bottle inside my backpack pressed against my spine. that was my third mistake. frank green water bottles hurt when they're pushing into your bones.

"you're gonna give me all the money you've got on you, kay?" he asked in a low, raspy voice. he definitely smoked 5 packs a day.

nevertheless, i nodded and reached into the side pocket of my backpack. i pulled out my cute little mimco purse and started taking out all the cash in it. it hurt my soul to get rid of it- that money was supposed to go towards my new vape. bummer.

my hands were shaking as they held the messy assortment of bills, waiting for him to take it from me and just leave me alone.

"good. thanks- dont be tellin' anyone about this, or else i'll find you,' he threatened, slowly pulling the gun away from my head.

"i wont, i swear!"

"you're taller than him, ma'am. why dont you just kick him to the curb?"

i furrowed my brows, my eyes scanning the alleyway for the origins of the voice. the origins of luke's voice.

his nasally tone was so distinct, i could recognise it with my head underwater.

"the fuck?" called out the short, ugly smoker with my money. he whipped his head around furiously, suddenly a lot more alarmed than when he was robbing me. suddenly, the nerdy loser in latex swung down and pushed him onto the cold ground.

spider-boy grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back, before webbing them together in some homemade handcuffs.

"are you fuckin' kidding me?" the guy grumbled, his voice muffled by the gravel pushing against his mouth as spider-dork held his head to the ground.

"nope, not kidding you," he sighed, using his webs to secure the man into his position on the ground. he dug into the mans pockets and pulled out my money.

yep, that was luke castellan all right.

spider-nerd leapt off the constrained druggie and walked over to me, handing me back my assortment of bills. "are you okay, ma'am?" he asked, looking downwards a bit to meet my gaze.

thats exactly how luke looks at me. he's gotta be luke- he HAS to be.

i had been watching luke for weeks. i had been analysing his every movement, every strange look and awkward gesture. i was 99.9% sure that spider-man was luke castellan.

but there was only one way to find out.

"dont call me ma'am, luke."

luke choked on air, taking a step forwards as he clumsily held onto the wall in shock. "okay, what the fuck?"

i laughed dryly, my eyes narrowed as i stared at him. the whole ‘spider-man’ thing really did suit him.

"you know?" he stuttered out. i nodded, before pointing over at the guy still squirming under his webs. "maybe you should get rid of him," i said calmly, crossing my arms over my chest after stuffing my money into the pocket of my jeans.

"oh. yeah, right."

before i knew it, luke had quite literally kicked the guy in the head to knock him out.

"are you allowed to do that?" i asked, my eyes wide in shock.

"nah, not really," luke shrugged, before looking down at his watch and pressing a few buttons.

"i thought you were supposed to be a friendly neighbourhood spider-boy," i retorted. luke scoffed, looking back up at me with what i could only assume to be a sly grin from under his mask. "its spider-man,” he corrected.

“and criminals who mess with pretty girls deserve to be curb stomped."

okay. yeah. he had a fair point. i am rather pretty.

then, out of nowhere, luke grabbed me by the waist and aimed his wrist towards the sky. before i knew it, he was swinging us towards the sky like a fucking lunatic.

“luke! what the fuck?!” i screamed, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to his body for dear life.

“what’s your addy?” he asked, his toned arm keeping me in place as it pressed against the small of my back.

‘what’s your addy?’ seriously? what a fuckin’ loser. i would’ve made fun of him for using snapchat lingo if it weren’t for how strong his arms were. jesus christ, they were so big and toned… no wonder he skips gym class every lesson; he doesn’t want to show off. what a humble king.

“uhh- greenhead avenue!” i cried out, digging my head into the nook of his neck. gods, he smelt good.

luke nodded, holding me tighter as he swung us through the air. “rodger that.”

“thanks for like… saving me, or whatever,”

i stood inside my bedroom, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as i clung onto the window frame. luke took off his mask as he stood on the balcony, leaning against the railing. he shot me a meek smile, tilting his head to the side as a way to play down his cocky demeanour.

he’s never gonna let me live this down.

“don’t worry about it.”

he paused, letting his smile drop. “just- promise you won’t tell anyone?” luke asked, his voice low as he leaned forward.

of course i wasn’t going to tell anyone- i’m not a total cunt. i have morals… sometimes.

“i promise, luke.”

he smiled, pulling his mask back over his head before taking a step back. “great. see you on monday,” he called out, jumping off the railing and swinging away from my apartment building.

as soon as he left, i face planted against my bed.

luke castellan was spider-man. i fucking knew it.

that was fine. i knew that.

but what really got me was how hot it was when he held me by the waist, how good he smelt, how raspy his voice was- WHAT THE FUCK.

no. what the fuck. are you kidding me. god no. no no no no no no no. i’m going to jump off the balcony. this is it.

of course. just my luck.

that day i confirmed my suspicions of luke being spider-man.

i also realised why i cared about it much.

fuck my life.

[vampiriccreature]

Dmc 3 Dantes design is AMAZING in a storytelling aspect but does NOT work outside of dmc3 AND I’M SICK OF SEEING IT USED IN CROSSOVER MEDIAS !!!!!!

Long ass yap under cut

Dante has always been one for over the top outfits and designs. In the dmc1 novel one of the first sentences is talking about how Dante is flamboyant. At the end of dmc3 we see he has his dmc1 outfit on with all the layers and vest and everything. NOT shirtless.

At the start of dmc3 bro was getting out of the shower, like you hear the water and the shower faucet. You see the water droplets and steam coming off of Dante. And when he answers the phone he says the shop isn’t open yet. Dude was having a lazy day.

Dante did not have time to put on a shirt, he wasn’t planning on going out anywhere or doing anything, he was just eating pizza and chilling. I see SO MANY people (including cannon media like the dmc3 manga) just assume he regularly does not wear a shirt…. like he does! he just didn’t have time to put one on before Arkhams bitchass showed up with his demons.

Don’t even get me started on those pants…. light brown has never been a part of Dante’s color scheme so light brown pants definitely seem weird right? Also he had no belt despite clearly needing one.

Like look at this render, you can see how far his hip is from his pants. He probably just threw on some old pair without thinking about it. And with no belt too, every other version of Dante has at LEAST one belt. So seeing Dante in light brown pants, alone with no belt is definitely strange.

Yet it WORKS SO WELL for the overall design in 3. Reducing the amount of black in his color scheme to better focus on the red and establish him as a much lighter character compared to Vergil ties in perfectly with the dark reflection trope Vergil and Dante play into.

The most iconic thing about Dantes design has always been that red coat. No argument there. So taking away the rest of Dantes more extravagant parts of his design to better focus on the coat is perfect especially for dmc3. Another thing that ties back into the dark reflection trope of Dantes and Vergil is that cutting down on Dantes design makes Vergil and Dantes personalities reflect in their designs so much more. Vergil is very well kept, with a much more complicated outfit and slicked back hair. So Dante being the opposite of that with a lack of shirt, pants that don��t match, no belt, etc. (while still being flamboyant with that red coat) shows their differences in maturity.

You look at this guy and you KNOW he put so much time and effort into his look. He exudes elegance and effort. Meanwhile Dante’s just thrown on a coat and called it a day.

My point is. This design is great for the storytelling aspect of dmc3 as well as the symbolism and metaphors in dmc3. However, we know Dante doesn’t usually dress like this. He wears shirts. So I get personally annoyed when I see Dante portrayed as that one dude who never wears a shirt. I head cannon that around the shop when he has nothing planned he won’t wear a shirt (saves money on the water bill cuz less laundry) but if he plans to go out or have the shop open or whatever, he’s putting on the full fit. Shirt, belt, coat, and plenty of other accessories.

Also here’s the second paragraph from the dmc1 novel cuz I just love how he’s described not only as flamboyant but also adorned with a lot of jewelry:

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 1

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Kara is seated at a cubicle in her Supergirl costume staring at a typical pencil pusher hurriedly typing in the numbers. She looked around and saw Clark sitting in another cubicle behind her. He turned around and wave. 

“Let me know if you need any help!” 

Kara winced, hurriedly turned back around, and slouched in her chair. She looked back at the desk and saw the paper that brought her here. She was being charged $10,000 in property damage to the city while as Supergirl. Clark got the same paper, but he only has to pay $5. Her eyes started glowing red in rage while she gripped the chair. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

 “I hate being jealous, but it isn’t fair! I was supposed to be his defender, not the other way around. I even had military training before coming to Earth, but Clark makes everything here seem so effortless. It just makes me feel….irrelevant.”

It was a sobering thought that had been haunting Kara each day. If she couldn’t serve her purpose, what was she going to do? She was nearly drowning in her sorrows and self-hatred when she felt the office lady’s hand on her arm. She looked up at the lady and saw she had a cheerful disposition. Kara forced the smile back into her eyes and lips. 

“I am sorry that I drifted off there….um Connie. Isn’t that your name?”

“Oh, you remember my name!”

Connie’s smile looked so genuine. Kara would have found it cute if this pencil pusher wasn’t about to clear her out of cash. She forced her smile even brighter hoping to charm the pants off this lady to lower the cost down.

“Yes. I try to be good with names as I can. Were you able to find anything that can bring the cost of the bill down?”

Connie’s smile grew dimmer. 

“Shit!”

“Well, we can’t lower the cost…”

“Even though this is my first time?” said Kara with a pout on her face. 

She wasn’t above groveling. She didn’t have this type of money, and she will be damned if she had to beg Clark for help.

“I know this seems very steep, but when villains and superheroes fight in the city, it causes a lot of property damage. The tax was created to help discourage these types of situations.”

“Even when we are saving the city?”

“If there was no way to get the villain out of the city, there would be little to no charge.”

“Which is what happened in my case.”

Connie’s face fell a little and started twisting her hands.

“Well, not exactly. While fighting Livewire, you took out several buildings before taking her down.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Property could have been saved if you had utilized the fire hydrant and open pool in the area to stop Livewire due to her water vulnerability instead of using brute force.”

Kara slid further in her seat and sighed.

“I could have been more careful, but I was just in a hurry to prove I could do things faster than Clark.”

Kara looked back and saw that Clark had finished his payment and left. She looked back to Connie solemnly and asked, “What can I do now? Is there some type of payment plan I can do since I don’t have that type of money on me?”

Connie smiled a bit and said, “There are tons of options. We have a variety of payment plans, or we have different volunteer opportunities that you can choose to work off the payment.”

Connie passed her the book of all their volunteer opportunities and perused it for a minute. She was bored until one entry caught her attention and brought a smirk to her face. 

“I choose this one.”

Kara watched Connie’s face changed at her choice from a smile to a frown instantly. 

“Umm, are you sure you want to do this type of work.”

Kara smiled, and said, “Why wouldn’t I want to bring smiles to sick kids in a Children’s Hospital?”

“But…um… it is run by Lena…”

“Luthor. Oh, I am aware. I believe in judging people for their merit and not by association.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Oh, I am sure.”

“Me working for the sister of Clark’s greatest enemy. This will so get under his skin.”

Kara laughed wickedly as Connie eyes her warily while signing her up for the volunteer gig. 

[billthedrake]

THE BOARDROOM (PART FOUR)

This chapter probably works better having read the previous ones.

ENGLISH AND ITALIAN TAILORING

I had been spending the winter taking some time away from The Boardroom gatherings. Some of it was giving Ethan his space and not trying to claim The Boardroom as my space, even if it kind of was. I knew my ex would flourish there, and at that point he needed it more than I did.

Besides, I was doing a lot of travel and work had been crazy busy. I had made sure to prioritize my gym and exercise time, as well as my diet. After that I didn't have a lot of energy for anything else.

I enjoyed a lot of masturbation time, for sure. I experimented with watching non-suit porn. I got off to a lot of it, but generally enjoyed going back to the tried and true suit scenes.

The Boardroom had a series of gatherings that didn't do it for me. Power Suit Night. Vests Night. Sheer Socks Night. Fashion Week. I declined at each RSVP and gave other guys a spot.

I even missed the semi-annual Executive Board Meeting, since I was out of town for work. But I was pleased to hear from Ethan that he'd been promoted to Junior Executive. His new suits and regular attendance in my absence had paid off.

Now I realized I was due to host. And maybe it was the increasingly spring weather, but my libido was bouncing back like crazy. A Boardroom party sounded like just the thing. And I had my English-tailored pinstripe suit waiting to make its debut.

I sent out the email:

"Hello Gentlemen of the Boardroom - Next meeting is devoted to English and Italian tailoring. Priority to the men with the real deal. Soft shoulder or English draping. Slim silhouette or waist suppression. RSVP English or Italian wear. Waitlist of others who appreciate European tailoring. Men not in English or Italian clothing can wear only accessories at the Boardroom this time."

"That's genius, Bill," Ken wrote, with his RSVP for Italian.

Marty had an Italian sport coat and trousers, which was good for me.

Kevin was the only other exec to RSVP, but didn't have an outfit.

But the Junior Execs and New Hires came through. Darren said he'd wear an English suit. I wasn't surprised to hear he was the only other regular with one but as it happened, an Interviewee was visiting from England and expressed interest.

John was a Junior Exec I'd not seen too much lately. After his promotion, he'd started dating someone exclusively. I guessed that was now a thing of the past, since he responded that he had an Italian suit he'd love to wear. One the Newer Hires, another Mike - Mike 2 - chimed in that he had just come back from a destination wedding in Italy and had something appropriate.

I didn't want Kevin to be the only one in just accessories, so I admitted another non-suit wearing guy, a New Hire, Rick.

Since it had been a while since I hosted, I splurged on a nice suite at the Four Seasons Downtown. I normally channeled my spare money into attire, not hotel rooms, but I figured I had saved money by not going on dates the last half a year.

I showed up early and got everything ready. Setting out lube, towels and spare tissues, along with some glasses of water to help with clean up.

Mike - Mike 2 as we called him since he's joined since Doctor Mike - was the first to show up. I didn't really know him, but he was good looking, kind of a regular 30yo gay guy, fit in that New York way. But his suit made him look killer. Nice rounded shoulders, tan color that showed off his brown hair and blue eyes.

"God, fuck, that's a nice suit, Bill," he said as he walked into the suite. I stepped back and let him get a look. Yeah, I was proud of this one. It was British tailoring, definitely, but I'd chosen a fabric and silhouette that wouldn't look too out of place in New York. I'd paired it with a pink shirt with a spread collar, a windsor knot on my repp tie, and for shoes I went with my Edward Greens.

"Thanks," I said. "You're looking amazing... nice introduction, I'd say."

"Agreed," he smiled. I could tell he was throwing hard in his suit, which I loved. I mean, all of us guys in the Boardroom had the kink, but some men just really embraced the horniness of a good suit. Mike cocked a grin. "We should probably wait for the others to fool around?"

"We don't gotta," I said. And like that, I stepped up and ran my hand along his shoulder, the light-weight wool perfectly molded to his strong delts. His hand went right for my crotch, working up my boner in my trousers.

We kissed. It was a hungry, horny kiss as our hands took in each other's suit.

Just then a knock came. I laughed as I broke up the impetuous make out session with Mike. Marty was there, with beefy Mark. Marty's sport coat was great, but maybe paled in comparison to Mike's full-on suit. Mark was in casual clothes, but as he came in, he began removing everything but a pair of socks and sock suspenders. On his meaty build, the look was pretty damn hot, especially because his cock filled out to full staff showing off for us.

Darren arrived next. He had more that English country gentleman look, the brown-green plaid looking incredible with his tall lean frame and chocolate-brown skin. Marty was already pawing at the coat and trousers. He and Darren always had some chemistry, and the English attire was drawing the man like a moth to a flame.

Over in one corner of the suite, nearly-naked, beefy Mark was on his knees, sucking Mike in full suited attire.

I enjoyed watching, squeezing my crotch, then I decided to join the action, stepping up to Mike and smiling at the cute guy. "He's good, huh?" I asked.

Mike nodded. "Why don't you pull your dick out and see for yourself." OK, Mike 2 had a domish edge that surprised me.

I grinned, reaching down to do just that. "Oh I've had his mouth," I said. I wagged my hard cock in Mark's direction and nudged it against his cheek. The guy got the picture.

"It's been a while, Bill," he said, looking up from my dick and up to my face.

"Yep," I replied. "Why don't you show me what I've been missing."

"Fuck yeah," he hissed. Mark loved sucking dick. The more the better, in his book. I grunted as I felt that talented mouth descend on my pole. It had been way too long since I'd come to Boardroom night.

Mike laughed as he watched my reaction. I looked at him and I felt that magnetic charge again. We kissed and I felt his hand run along my lapel. I was getting way too into this, but thankfully Mark pulled off and started blowing Mike. I pulled back from the kiss and looked over at the other guys.

Kevin was here now, and was on all fours on one of the beds next to Marty. Both men had their trousers pulled down and were making out while Darren went back and forth, slowly fucking in full country-estate wear.

And I noticed that Rick had arrived. I gathered he was a finance guy, from his demeanor and previous attire. But he didn't have on any clothing now, not really, given my accessories-only stipulation. And damn, the dude had a body that wouldn't quit. Ripped and toned, not huge but densely muscular build for his 5'10" body. It was an Ethan-caliber body, and the realization made me shiver a bit. Before Ethan, my taste had run fit-normal. My ex Kevin.... my Boardroom crush Pete. Regular NYC guys, my age.

Maybe it was silly to go for perfect, but it was fun to watch as Rick strutted over in just his over-the-calf socks, English-made tan oxfords, a tie tied around his neck and an expensive Swiss watch on his wrist. The only thing keeping him from being porn-star material was a smaller than average dick, which was still pretty damn appealing in its rock-hard spike as he walked over.

"Hey," he greeted, giving me a nod, but his attention more on Mike 2.

"Hey Rick," Mike grinned. They'd clearly met before. And maybe more.

They kissed.

"Nice suit, bro," Rick hissed, now running his hand along Mike's front. It was fun to watch the spark of sexual chemistry between these two late-20s guys, but yeah, I was gonna get left out.

Mark had even started sucking Rick's bone, taking advantage of the smaller size to really go to town on it. Meanwhile, Mike and Rick made out taking some breaks so Mike could watch his Boardroom buddy admire his new suit.

I should have just left them but it was hot to watch. So I stroked and stood near. Mark had gone back to Mike's bigger cock. It was hot to see him kneeling in his socks and sock suspenders, the hairness of his legs a contrast to the sheer sock fabric. Rick arched his back and I could then see that Mike had his hand wedged back into his ass, fingering and playing around with Rick's hole.

"I wanna use that ass, man," Mike grunted.

Rick nodded and like that, Mike was pushing Mark off his dick. The two didn't even acknowledge me and Mark as they made their way over to the spare bed.

"Sorry, Bill, looks like you're stuck with me," Mark said as he stood up. His dick was hard and leaking. Even if I wasn't a huge socks fetishist, I had to admit the sock garters looked great on his beefier build. Kind of that feminine/masculine contrast.

I flashed him a smile. "A-OK with me," I replied politely. "It's been a while since we connected here."

He nodded, stepping up. We didn't kiss. Partly because that wasn't Mark's MO - he was all about cock - but partly because we didn't have that natural chemistry. Still, his hands were on my suit coat.

"You have a really incredible suit," he said. "It really should be getting more attention."

He was right. About the suit, maybe, but in particular about what I was feeling wistful about. Maybe I was becoming one of the respected founding executives. A man with a great suit but not so imminently fuckable, you know?

"Wanna give it some attention?" I smirked.

I let Mark feel me up, and I got off on his near naked body in contrast to my suited one. It was fun, seeing him sensually touch the fabric and massage my body beneath it. But eventually his goal was clearly.

"OK if I suck you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, that'd be hot."

This was more transactional. I had a big dick and Mark loved to suck. This is what a sex party often was, if you stripped away the suit fetish. Two men just getting their rocks off.

And Mark was a good cocksucker. Not too fast but he knew how to work me up to a good cum before long. I held onto his head, not roughly but as a sign I was about to blast. The man moaned around my cock, telling me to let it rip. I did, blasting several hot rounds down his throat.

He milked me and worked the dribbles slowly before giving my dick a parting kiss. "I love sucking off a man in a suit," he said, taking one last look before getting up. "OK if I go find another?" he asked.

"Have at it," I grinned, taking a seat to have a break. I knew I wouldn't have another in me, but I'd enjoy seeing the guys pair up in suits. Besides, since I was hosting, I couldn't really leave.

It didn't take Mark long to find another dick to suck. Darren had gone, and Marty was getting slowly fucked by newcomer John, in a navy Italian suit. But Kevin was alone, like me watching the action while he stood in an Italian sport coat and tie, naked from the waist down. Mark got right into to place and started sucking while Kevin watched the other guys.

I looked over at the other bed. Mike 2 had clearly gotten off inside Rick and the two were on the bed, making out as a third guy in a full navy suit was now on top of Rick, working his way inside the hunk. I take it was the English guy, the Interviewee.

I watched them fuck. It was an amazing sight. The English lad had his trousers pulled down mid-thigh so I could see some of his dimpled ass flex as he thrust into the hot finance bro beneath him.

Mike 2 lay beside them, his dick now retreated back into his crotch but his eyes still showing excitement as he ran his hands up and down the English guy's coat. I don't know that his suit was overly high-quality but the English tailoring was novel, and the wool fit his form like a glove.

I turned over to see Kevin's eyes on the live sex show. These Boardroom meeting were 50 percent clothing fetish and 50 percent old fashioned sex party. Well, maybe it started out as 80/20, but increasingly it felt there was a moment like this, where some pairing would become the center of attention.

Kevin's brown eyes met mine in recognition. He was my ex from my early 30s, and to this day we had a kind of telepathy. He was thinking the same thing as me, and he was getting turned on. I watched the guy as he humped into Beefy Mark's mouth and started cumming.

It was a great spectacle to watch. I didn't really have the hots for Kevin these days, but his love of suited sex still could get me going.

The only bad thing was I missed the English guy's orgasm. He was sliding off the bed and hiking up his trousers while he fetched a spare cloth to clean off his hard uncut prick still jutting up from a creamy white midsection.

"Heya," he greeted as he walked over to me, tucking in and buckling back up.

"Hi," I said. "You must be Gavin."

"Indeed I am," he said. He reminded me of English Ben who I met at a Boardroom party and whom I reconnected with on my last trip to London. "Great party."

"Thanks," I said. "Great to have newcomers. You visiting New York?"

Maybe because we'd both gotten off, it felt fine to be chatty. The guy picked up a water bottle for a swig. "Yah, here on work, but added a couple days for holiday."

"Glad you could come," I said. "You were fun to watch." OK, maybe I was being flirty, and maybe I had a weakness for the accent.

"Thanks." He grinned and took another sip. I could tell he was flattered but that I wasn't his type. "I'm going to get going. But OK if I reach out again, next time I'm in town?"

"Absolutely," I said. And I watched Gavin leave the suite.

In fact, the guys pretty much were filing out pretty quickly. I didn't expect anyone to stay over, but as Rick and Mike 2 left together, with a clear chemistry between them, I kind of wished I wasn't going to spend the night in this hotel suite alone.

SUSPENDERS NIGHT

"Sorry I didn't make the party, Bill," Ethan said in our Monday workout. I was up to two sessions with him a week. No more comped ones - I paid him the full fee, though I gathered he socked some of that away in a special savings account dedicated to his clothing habit. It was wild to see a guy like him, young and athletic, embrace the suit fetish lifestyle. I sometimes wonder if that was New York, the way it nurtured a subculture like ours. Elsewhere Ethan certainly would have gotten off on suited men but maybe it wouldn't have developed for him like it did.

I set down the dumbbells he had me lifting. I gave him a friendly but direct look. "It's working out best that we keep to separate parties I suppose."

He nodded in agreement, then added. "I know. It's just, I guess that's the first Boardroom meeting you've hosted since I've joined. I feel bad for not going."

I felt a twinge of something. Regret, guilt, sadness, all rolled into one. But I tried to keep a poker face. "Like I say, Ethan, it's OK. For real."

He seemed to be trying on his poker face too. "I didn't have any English or Italian suit to wear anyway."

I grinned and Ethan knew why. That meant he'd have been mostly naked. That was kind of our thing when we were an item, and fortunately he laughed.

"Yeah you wouldn't have minded that," he said. I don't know, somehow the flirting helped break the tensions some. He set me up on the cable machine for the next set and said quietly, "I have been saving up for some proper English shoes."

"Yeah?" I asked. Ethan was a big foot/shoe guy, so it wasn't a surprise.

He nodded. "I know you'd advise against it, Bill, you know focus my money elsewhere, but it's what's gonna make me happy."

"You should go for it, Ethan. Splurge on those bad boys." I did my set, which was harder than I expected. In his own laid back way, Ethan was really pushing me today. I stepped back after and continued my thought. "You know I don't have to approve of your purchases... I mean, I hope you don't think I'm controlling."

He shrugged. "Not controlling. More, I just... well, you were kind of a mentor to me, and you still are... I don't want to think I don't respect your advice."

"My advice is to enjoy the hell out of your new shoes."

Ethan laughed. "I don't have 'em yet, Bill."

"Is this a way of saying your going to raise your rate on me?" I teased.

His eyes twinkled. God he was a cute fucker. "Nah.... but if you ever feel like squeezing an extra session in...."

"Let's do it," I said.

That surprised Ethan. "I was just kidding, Bill. I didn't mean..."

"I know. But it'll be good. Ethan's shoe fund. And an extra installment on my beach bod plan."

"If you're sure," he said.

"As long as you can work around my schedule," I said. Work had been pretty hectic lately.

"I will," he said. His whole posture was more confident now. I think it was the excitement of getting his shoes, but something else.

He put me through the paces for a few more sets and as we were wrapping up, he pulled out his phone to schedule my third session for the week.

"You sure, Bill?" he asked.

"Sure I'm sure."

He smiled and we figured out a good time. Then, as I was about to head to the locker room to change, Ethan asked in a low voice. "You going to suspenders night?"

This was George's turn at hosting and he'd put out a call for suspenders/braces. The great thing about the idea was how open it was to different clothing styles.

"I was thinking about it," I said. "But if you're going..." I hadn't explicitly made an agreement with Ethan to avoid the meetups he went to, but it was clear that I did.

"I want to," he said. "But you don't have to say no on my account. I think we've been pretty mature about stuff."

We had. Ethan especially. I was the one who'd called things off, and he seemed to get back on his game just fine. I gathered that he might not be dating anyone serious but he was getting back into the dating scene. Good for him.

"I guess, so," I said.

***

It had been too long since I fucked Pete. But when he showed up at the Boardroom Meeting and we made eye contact, we just knew the chemistry was still there. We played with some of the other guys - Mike 1, the young doctor, who was in his trad element, and Rob, who was in a really fucking nice suit - subtle pinstripe, bengal stripe shirt, and solid gaberdine tie. Unlike me the guys had showier suspenders - Rob's beneath his suit coat, Mike and Pete showing off their suspenders in shirt sleeves. Pete had white cuffs on an oxford stripe shirt, which was a nice vintage touch. His body was pretty fantastic in it too.

He had some group kissing and stroking and BJ swapping before Pete and I took the arrival of George to pull away from the guys to take to the bed.

Ethan was on the other bed, in just his dress shirt and tie, as Tom Stephenson lie on top of him, fully clothed and kissing and thrusting into my ex. That somehow ignited my jealousy, but I pushed that thought right back down. I was going to be the grown up.

Besides Pete was way hot. He was pulling off his suspenders and undoing his trousers. Turning around he shucked his pants and got into doggy position. I was very grateful at that moment that Pete's husband let him come into the city to play on occasion. And a little mad at myself for the idea I'd love to steal the guy away.

I got in place and started munching Pete's hole. Nice and clean, it seemed to suck my tongue in. It had been too long for him, too, I knew. I took my time, taking a pause now and then to admire his ass and to lube my dick up. But pretty soon, my cock ached to fuck. I crawled up onto Pete's body, feeling the heat between his shirt and mine as I pushed my dick into place.

"Please Bill," he hissed, at a volume only I could hear.

His hole was perfectly tight as I entered him. But the excitement was all of Pete. His perfectly meaty bod, his handsomeness, his clothes. How much he wanted me. Maybe I was going too hard and too fast but Pete bucked against me a couple of times to give me the green light. I took it. My humping got harder and faster as I kissed along his neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his shirt color against my cheek.

I was getting hot, too hot in my suit, but that also fed my lust. I shot, hard.

"Yes," Pete sighed, now pulling at his dick while I did my best to keep pushing in and other. Not as fast or urgent, but the slow stroke was probably better for his pleasure.

I felt the man get his orgasm beneath me, and I gave him another, final kiss of appreciation to the neck.

We uncoupled and enjoyed embracing and making out in our clothing. I was aware other guys were having fun around us, and a part of me wanted to show Ethan I could have some fun too.

Finally, Pete pulled back and gave a wistful smile. "I gotta get going." By now, some were leaving the party, and I'd lost track of time.

"Yeah," I said. I was hard again now, and my cock was sticking out. I wasn't usually good for getting off twice at one of these gatherings, but it had been a few days since I'd cum, and being with Pete had me amped up.

Pete reached down and grabbed my hardon, stroking it and admiring how it jutted out of my suit trousers. "Want me to take care of this before I go?"

I did, but I also wanted some more time to recharge. "Nah," I said. I leaned in and placed my mouth at his ear. "But fucking you was perfect," I whispered. "I missed being in you."

I felt his body shiver, and I felt bad. I was pushing the envelope and maybe enjoying doing that too much.

He pulled away. His own dick was firm and he did the work of tucking it in as he sat up in bed. He gave me a once over as he shook his head. "Great seeing you, Bill," he said.

I tried to apologize non verbally, patting his shirt-clad back. "I'll let you go," I said softly.

"Another kiss?" he asked.

I met him for just that.

When he finally left I was rock hard. George and one of the New Hires, Matt, were making out on the bed, caught up in their own connection. I thought of joining them, but didn't want to impose or be the third wheel.

Just then, I saw Ethan walk out of the bathroom, face flushed. He'd put his suit back on, suspenders and all, and retied his tie. He had a sheepish, shy look on his face, until he saw my boner jutting out and then he broke into a grin.

I couldn't help but laugh in response. We'd been trying to compartmentalize things, but here we were now, face to face, the sexual activity of the evening apparent.

Ethan's brown eyes met mine, searching for permission. I'm not sure if I gave it to him, or he was going to wait for it. He took a couple of steps forward and then crouched in front of me. My dick twitched as he did and Ethan took in the sight with a smile. I thought he was going to suck me right then and there but instead he scooted back and leaned down further. Kissing one shoe, then the other. I'd warn some brogued cordovan Aldens and Ethen sucked in the smell of the leather before licking.

"Fuck," he hissed, as he used his tie to wipe off the spit. I could sense how turned on he was to be able to indulge his shoe fetish. To my knowledge none of the Board members, at least the regulars, were into that. Ethan knew I wouldn't mind him having some shoe play, and would even get off on his horniness.

"Jesus, guys, you're getting kinky," I heard George say.

He and Matt were now lying back in bed, their clothes dishelved and their bodies clearly ih post-coital relaxation.

I saw Ethan flinch and blush. I gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and looked back up at the other guys. "It's something I've wanted to try," I lied.

George nodded. "Well, Matt here's big into wristwatches. Can't keep his eyes off this baby," he said, holding up his arm, sporting an expensive watch.

Matt blushed some, and I felt bad, like this should be the place where guys could just enjoy their kinks. I gave a reassuring smile. "I bet you'd like a wristwatch theme night, huh?" I asked Matt.

"Fuck yeah," he grinned. The guy was younger, maybe a few years older than Ethan, and cute. Professional gay guy who get to let loose some at these events.

My hardon had flagged by that point and Ethan had stood up. The spell was broken. "I'll probably get going," I announced as I tucked in and zipped up. I did my best to make myself presentable. I turned to Ethan. "You staying?"

It was a question laden with a lot of possibilities and I could Ethan trying to read me with his eyes. I reached behind him and tapped his suited ass. A quick gesture, but he knew I was up for fooling around.

Without missing a beat he turned to the other guys. "I think I'll head out too. It was a great Meeting, George," he said. "One of the best."

George grinned. He placed his arm around Matt. George was always after new meat and had a preference for younger guys. I had the feeling the two were going to enjoy the night together.

"Seriously, Matt," I said as I picked up my phone and slid it into my suit pocket. "We'll think about the watch idea. We haven't done that before." The guy gave a smile.

We bid good night, and Ethan and I walked silently to the elevators, smiles on our faces as we fed off our lust.

"What are we doing, Boss?" he asked. I could tell he was afraid to pose the question, but someone had to think with his head and not his dick.

The door opened and we got in. There were other people in, so Ethan and I rode down in baited breath, silent.

We were out on the street before I spoke. "If it's just fun, I'll deal with that," I said. "But I want to be your boyfriend, Ethan. For real."

That caught him off guard. "What about just now? With Pete?" he asked softly. I could tell he was as jealous to see me with Pete as I was with Tom. Maybe more.

"I don't know what to say," I said. "I mean, it was the Boardroom."

He shrugged. "You guys have a thing. Everyone knows it, Bill."

I thought about it. Thought about why I felt a connection to Ethan so soon after having sex with Pete. "It's only because Pete and I never actually dated. But say the word I won't so much as lay a hand on him."

I saw a smile form on Ethan's lips as he looked over at me. "You're serious, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling vulnerable because I was overcome by how suddenly my revelation had hit me. I knew I'd suppressed a lot of my feelings for Ethan. "I was an asshole before. But I miss you Ethan."

His face got a real emotional seriousness. "Can I kiss you, Boss?"

I nodded. And right there in the middle of the sidewalk we kiss. Softly, just a little tongue.

"Damn," I said.

"Yeah," Ethan sighed. He ran his fingers along my lapel. I knew we'd go home and have some amazing suit sex, and that made the emotional part of this even more powerful. "You know, when you stood up for me earlier... for the shoe thing... that was kind of great."

I winked. "I like how you show me new things, stud." I patted his shoulder. "You wanna head to my place and have some shoe play?"

He shook his head. "How bout my place, Bill? You never come over there."

There was a reason for that. Ethan lived in a tiny walk up apartment. But it was time for me to give as well as take. "All right," I said.

***

Ethan's place was tidy but pretty fucking small. But there was no place I'd rather be at that moment. He lay on the floor on a yoga-workout mat, in his Brooks Brothers charcoal suit and striped shirt, paisley pocket square and wool tie, his hard dick sticking out of his crotch. I slowly, teasingly ran my shoe along his boner as he looked up at me hungrily.

"God, Bill," he hissed.

My own dick was out of my suit pants again, sticking out straight, but I wasn't doing anything with it. I was enjoying giving Ethan his jollies.

"You like that leather," I said. Half question, half comment.

"God yes," he said. "You think I'm messed up?" he half asked in return.

I shook my head. "Stud, if my shoes are what keeps you interested in me, that works for me."

He grunted as he watched me bend down to unlace my Aldens. "It's not like that," he objected.

I grinned and winked as I slid my shoe off. "If it is, that's OK, Ethan," I said. Then I knelt down, still fully in my suit and slid that cordovan Alden oxford over Ethan's erection.

"Shit," he gasped as his dick made contact with the interior leather.

I leaned in and kissed him, briefly. "This comfortable?" I asked as I slid it up and down.

He nodded. This was turning him on, a lot. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing this," he said in a clipped voice.

"Do it," I instructed him.

Ethan's eyes grew wider as he met mine in silent sexual communication and his face grew redder. He was a cute and very hunky young man, and I was lucky I even had a chance with him. I was lucky that he was crushed out on me. And he only grew more handsome when he had his orgasm.

"UUUNNNMMMHFF!" he growled in release. Then falling back into a relaxed position, he broke into a smile. "Damn, that was incredible," he finally said.

I pulled off my shoe, trying not to overstimulate his prick. Normally, the first thing I'd be doing is cleaning it, but I not held it up and looked inside. Ethan had cum a lot and I could see his pearly seed drip down from the toe to the padded heel area. I shocked Ethan and shocked myself by bringing it closer, up to my face, and sticking my tongue in to taste his fresh seed.

"Fuck, Boss," he gasped. "No way am I going soft now," he said with a laugh.

I handed him my shoe. "Think this puppy will keep you turned on enough to let me fuck you?"

Ethan was younger than me and had more of a sexual stamina. But this was purely Ethan in overheated mode. He'd never had a man indulge his foot fetish like I was doing now. I watched as he excitedly reached down to undo his suspenders. I helped him take off his Allen Edmonds, plainer brown cap toes, then pull off his dark gray trousers. His dick was angry red and overstimulated but still hard.

"On the bed?" I asked. There was something fun and naughty about having sex on his bedroom floor, but I knew a mattress would be more comfortable than that thin mat.

We got up on the bed, and I met him for a kiss, deeper this time. I wasn't going to rush this, but I knew I had to be back inside Ethan, that evening. I'd be fucking on Tom Stephenson's sperm and god knows if anyone else's, but we could deal with that.

As Ethan wrapped his legs around my waist and I ran my cock around his hole, feeling the still slick traces of lube in his crack, I looked into his eyes.

"We'll figure out the Boardroom stuff, if you still wanna go," I said, a quiver in my voice. "But let me know what you need from me, Ethan."

He nodded, excited. "You, too, Bill." I could see in his face and hear in his voice the man's desire to be wanted. I hadn't given Ethan that before.

I pushed into him. His hole was relaxed and wet. And even if I was jealous of Tom Stephenson, I was glad for the extra lubrication. Ethan's hole felt nice and wet and snug against my thrusting prick, and the man was primed to take the urgency of my fuck.

I humped away, and Ethan looked up into my eyes and felt up my suit coat and tie. From the evening, I was sweating into my clothes and it would all need a good dry clean. It would be worth it.

"Faster, Boss," he urged. This wasn't about him, but rather his desire to see me get off.

I nodded to him, wordlessly communicating that I was close.

I had both hands on the bed, but I pulled one up to start feeling up Ethan's tie. He looked really fucking perfect in a repp tie. Clean-cut, masculine, like an athlete at an awards banquet or a small-town businessman.

I choked back my grunts but Ethan knew I was cumming hard. I powered my hips in and locked in place as I seeded him up. His words of encouragement as strong as the hands feeling up my suit.

I finally pulled out and let his legs to the side as I eased down on his suited body. We were maybe messed up that we needed to play dress up to have sex, but we were messed up together. This felt right.

I could even feel the guy's heart beat between our layers of clothing as his strong grip held me close.

"You're staying over the night, Bill," he said.

It was a bossy tone I'd only heard from him in the gym before.

"Yeah," I said. I pulled up and looked at him. His face was flush and his hair was a little mussed. "You ever slept in your suit?"

He seemed amused by the idea. "No. Have you?"

I shook my head no. "Might be fun, though... But maybe we can start with just shirt and tie."

Ethan was still hard, but after getting off a couple of times that evening he didn't seem eager to get off again. I watched him take off his coat and drop the undone suspenders. I slowly removed my suit, suspenders and trousers.

"Is this gonna mess up our ties?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "But at the worst we'll each have a play tie to add to the collection."

I let Ethan wash up first. "There's a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," he offered when I stepped in. And once I was done in the bathroom, he had a glass of water to offer me.

"You sleepy?" he asked as we slid under the covers together, in our dress shirts and ties. I could feel his naked legs slip against mine and his genitals press against my crotch. This felt nice.

"Not really," I said. "Wanna stay up and talk?"

So that's what we did. We talked about dating and how it could work this time. What would need to be different, but what we missed about before.

"I don't want that easygoing part to go away, Bill," Ethan said. "Maybe things were too easygoing, but I like how you were my friend first."

"I still am," I assured him. "And you client," I winked. "You do good work."

He laughed. "Thanks. You needed to be whipped into shape," he quipped. It was bossy Ethan, and I knew it was a joke, but I still had to speak to the elephant in the room.

"Listen, I know you could find a guy with a much better body than mine."

He didn't miss a beat. "I want a body that looks great in a suit, Boss."

He didn't give me a chance to reply, he just leaned in for a kiss. I returned it and like that we were making out. It was about 1AM and I knew I didn't want this night to end. I felt Ethan's cock grow firm again against me and I loved the contrast between his hard nakeness and his clothed torso. Our shirts were now damp and our bodies warm.

Unbelievably, my own cock responded by firming up again.

"You wanting to get off?" I asked, running my hands over the bulging biceps in his shirt sleeves.

He thought for a second and shook his head. "Let's save it till morning, Bill."

"Sounds good," I said.

We kissed a little more and then got truly sleepy. As Ethan turned out the light, I realized I hadn't felt this giddy and excited in a long while.

[xkaidaxxxx]

Kuroo Tetsuro

The Man

y/n and kuroo : started dating 2nd year of high school

Currently : married and living together

Having a degree really doesn’t give you a great job from the start. During your 2nd year of college you got engaged with him. After that you both got an apartment and married. You’ve been living there for 2 years now. “I’m off to work sweetheart.” He said. You fixed his tie. “ I love you very much.” Giving you a quick kiss leaving afterwards. He wants to be in a sports promotion division but everyone has to start off somewhere. Now kuroo has told you endless of times that you don’t have to pay rent, buy groceries nor pay any other type of bills. It honestly made you feel bad. Yeah you were a housewife with a degree in business management and marketing. Everything was going great. You had breakfast, lunch, and dinner ready for Kuroo everyday. He loves your meals. He’s grateful for everything you do. Recently you’ve noticed he’s been stressed out. It was odd. You’ve never seen him so quiet,upset, looking like he’s going to explode at any moment.

Things were going downhill at work. Many people were being let go due to company issues. All the current workers pay went down. Long story short work was a shit show. He’s saved up money however still struggling to pay bills. He’s at this lowest right now. He won’t say a single word about it. He grew up hearing “you’re going to be the man of your house. You’re the man. Start getting that in your head.” From his dad. His mother agreed but she added that if he ever needed help they’d be there. Yeah his dad wasn’t in on that part. That grew upon him in an awful way. He’s beating himself up. It’s not his fault the company is falling to the ground. Not this fault his paycheck was 71,000yen(about 500usd) less from 341,100yen(2,400usd)= 288,162 yen (1,900usd)

That evening his mother accidentally called your phone instead of his. “Kuroo I have told you endless of times that you’re my son and that I love you very much. I know how it feels to struggle with money. You’re a strong person. Very dedicated and smart. If you need the money sweetheart take it. You can move back in with us. I’d love to have company. Y/n is such a sweet girl.” She spoke. There was a long pause. You hung up with without a word. You waited for kuroo to get home. Time passed by. Dinner was ready as Kuroo walked in and set his briefcase down. “ I’m home my love.” He spoke walking into the kitchen. You helped him take his blazer off along with his tie. “ Eat up lovely. I couldn’t wait today. I was too hungry.” You replied. You sat down and watched him eat. Allowing him to enjoy his tasty meal. Once he reached the end of it you asked, “ How was work?You’ve been working a bit longer?” You crossed your legs. “ It’s good. There’s just more work to do this time around. It’s kind of annoying don’t ya think.” He replied smiling. You wanted to slap that stupid fake smile off of his face. “Yeah I know. I’ve heard. The neighbor downstairs told me her husband got let go. You guys work in the same building right?” You lied. There was no such neighbor nor same building. “ U-uh yeah? Really?” He replied nervously. “ It suck’s they must be so stressed out. There’s rent,water bills,electricity, movie apps,Spotify.” You said. He finally knew what you were doing. How did you find out only god knows. “ Y-yes y/n I’ve been struggling with work. I swear baby I’ll figure it out. I promise. We will be okay.” He got up and held you in his arms. Tears soaked his tshirt. “Hey shh it’s okay. It’s not going to be easy but we’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Allow me to do that. I’m the man of the house after all. It’s my job to keep everything in check.” He said letting go and wiping your tears away. “I was planning to tell you yesterday that we got a call from the house phone. They said you wanted to be the Japan Volleyball Association’s Sports Promotion Division? They loved the resume and idea’s you’ve submitted. I’m guessing you put some of your high school and college volleyball background.” You said. Kuroo looked at you in shock. This was what he wanted. He got it after 3 years. “I told them yes..yeah so you start next week. On Monday. I know you’ll do amazing baby.” You said tip toeing giving him a peck on the cheek. “ This is perfect. I told you we’ll be okay.” He blushed. Your stomach grumbled loudly. “I thought you ate already.” He smirked. You smacked his arm. He served your plate as you sat down. “Here princess. Eat up. I love you very much.” He pecked your cheek setting the plate down. “ I love you too baby.”

[amydiddle-fanfiction]

10 Years More (Stanley’s Tale)

Stanley Pines is hitting his late 30s. He has lived a hard life on the road and only when he was in his darkest moment in '82 did he finally turn to family to help. Now, after a few years of living with his older brother, he is mostly on his feet. There are still days where he sleeps in his car but he at least knows he can make an honest living and turn to some people when in a terrible bind.

Still the world does change in terrible ways and now Stan finds himself packing up once again to drive towards a person he is sure never wants to see him again just because his mother asked him to. The last time anyone even heard from him was that same year Stan dialed up Sherman's number, who said that the man just decided to fully cut himself off from family forever?

What kind of town was Gravity Falls anyways? Whose to say Stanford even needed help?

Ao3 (THE FIC THAT MAY NEVER BE COMPLETED IS BEING WRITTEN)

Chapter 3

Gravity Falls was a small town nestled in a strangely shaped valley and, from Ford’s notes, was a place that was full of weirdness that the citizen apparently ignored. From gnomes to weird doorways that should not be opened, they would happily keep their eyes shut. What they did not ignore was the new red car that was currently driving down the main road.

All eyes seem to be glued to the stranger as he made his way up Main Street.

Stan shrunk down in the driver’s seat as he pulled into the first food place he saw. It was a weird building, shaped like a log with a big sign that read ‘Greasy’s Diner’ up on top. Hopefully the place was not too expensive.

He tried to ignore the stares that were being not so subtly thrown his way as he opened the door.  

“Yeah, I know I’m good lookin’. Stop yer staring!” He shouted at a couple that had stopped mid-walk by to parking lot.

He watched the couple jump and scurry away, finally taking their eyes off him.

He knew he was a mess. Between driving up all night and cleaning up the office space in the house, he probably needed a good night’s rest. At least more then the few hours he got when he accidently drifted off in Ford’s room.

Stanley slammed the can door shut and locked it, shoving his hands in his pockets to subtly count what loose change he had saved from his last odd job. Hopefully it would be enough to last him however long he would be staying in this town.

He kept his head down as he moved up the stairs and into the Greasy’s proper. He could already feel the stares as he made his way over to the nearest booth and sat down.

“Well, I’ll be! If it isn’t the fancy scientist man up in the woods,” a voice said next to him.

Stan jumped and looked up. The waitress standing in front of him, Susan by her nametag, smiled down at him.

“We all thought you had split town with your buddy years ago,” she set a mug down and started to pour a cup of coffee without him even ordering one, “What brings you back to town, stranger?”

“Oh, I’m not-,” Stan tried to correct her but she just kept talking.

“You still doing your mysterious experiments up there in that house of yours?” She laughed, “I’d pay to see what crazy experiments you got cooking.”

“But the thing is...” he blinked, “Did you say pay?”

The woman smiled down at him, taking a notepad out of her apron, “Well sure. I ain’t going to just roam into your home without proper compensation. I’m just everyone would pay good money to check out what you had cooking up there all these years, especially after that disappearing act you did.”

Stan’s hand went back to the bills in his pocket. It was enough for a few days of diner food but would it keep him running as long as he needed to rebuild that portal? Then there was the issue of getting water, heat, and electricity turned back on. Plus, he would need to repair the house some if he was going to stay here for more then a few days.

“What about ten-no, fifteen bucks for a tour?”

“Really!” The woman’s eyes seemed to sparkle, “You would really give me a tour of your fancy science house?”

“Yeah,” Stan stood up, “In fact, I’ll give everyone a tour! Fifteen per head, no refunds!”

Everyone in the diner that had been watching the exchange seemed to turn away at that moment. The chatter in the diner growing to one of excitement as Stanley sat down and picked up a menu.

“Course I am gonna need to eat something first,” Stan said, “But then we an all head down to the…the Murder Hut and check out all the science doo-dads.”

“Well in that case, the meals on the house,” Susan cheered, “What name can I put down for the order?”

“Stan…ford. Stanford Pines.”

Susan wrote the name down and looked at him expectantly.

“And what can I get you, Stan?”

Stan glanced down at the menu. His mind churning with indecision. He was not sure why he had claimed his brother’s name, but everyone here seemed to believe he was some big science man with a spooky cabin. Maybe they would like it better if he WAS his brother.

“Just get me the Chef’s special, toots.”

He handed the menu back after his order was written down and tried to calm his racing heart. The chatter around the diner had not died and he saw a few people rush out with excitement. Maybe they would tell their friends about the newly opened Murder Hut and get him even more money.

He tapped his fingers a nervous beat on the table as guilt began to gnaw at him.

Maybe taking all these people would be a bad idea. He hadn’t done a con in years, what if they saw right through him and just chased him out of town. What was he even going to show them, he didn’t know any science.

He was broken from his nervous thoughts by a plate being set down in front of him.

“Thanks, Susan. You’re a really doll.”

The waitress giggled, “Have a good lunch, man of mystery.”

Stan cut into his pancakes and hummed in thought. He would just have to wing it, he guessed. Not that he was not used to that. If he wanted to survive out here in Gravity Falls, this might be the only way how.

It took no time at all to finish up his meal. Even without needing to pay, he still slapped a few bills down for a tip. Susan would be giving it back anyway, plus if she didn’t like the tour he could still claim he did give her money for the food.

“Everything to your liking, I see,” Susan said as she picked up the plates.

“Everything was great. Compliments to the chef and the lovely waitress that served me.”

Susan laughed and waved a hand at him, “Oh stop it you. But actually, keep going.”

Stan laughed awkwardly as he slipped from the booth and slipping his hands into his jacket pockets.

“I should have everything ready for a tour in an hour. So don’t be late,” he winked.

Susan gave another one of her laughs, “I can’t wait. I’m sure am excited to see what you have been doing up there these past ten years.”

“Yeah,” Stan scratched at the back of his neck, “I am too. I mean, excited to show everyone. It’s gonna be great.”

“Well, see you soon Mr. Mystery.”

She winked, saying the word wink as she did, before moving on to help the next customer. He took that as his chance to escape. He had to make it back to the cabin to make is presentable for people as quick as possible.

The car ride back to Gopher Road was one that seemed to take longer than he was expecting. Not that there was traffic but that his head was running through all the possible things he was going to tell these people that would make fifteen dollars a head worth it.

He did not know half the stuff locked away in his brother’s house, let alone enough to explain it.

As he pulled in next to the broken-down truck, he looked at the cabin in a light of an outsider. When he first arrived here, he had thought this place was a creepy abandoned shit hole. It still looked like that even in the light of day.

“How am I supposed to sell this place to them?”

He felt his palms sweat as he slammed the car door and rushed inside. Looking around at the dirt covered floor and grimy walls. As he moved through the house, he nearly tripped over his feet when he passed by the room that held the basement door.

Stan backed up and looked into the darkened room. Shelves on shelves of knick-knacks and doohickies were there. Those roobs had to find some of this stuff interesting.

“Alright, let’s get to cleaning.”

It took nearly the whole hour, but Stan thought he got the large room looking at least a little presentable. He was even careful enough to push a shelf in front of the basement door so nosy townsfolks would not ask to see the portal. He was not sure why, but he had a feeling that there were some things in this house he needed to hide even from them.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, he stepped out into the fading light. His fingers fumbled with the cigarette box he kept in his jacket pockets.

He felt nervous. Nervous that they would all demand their money back like every other scheme he conjured. Nervous he would be chased out of town. Nervous he would be found out pretending to be his much smarter twin brother.

As he took a drag from the cigarette, he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The relief did not last long. As he stomped on the smoldering ember a car pulled into the empty lot. Then another. And another. A few people coming on foot walking up with Susan at the front.

He felt the judging stares at the state of the house. He was pretty sure he needed to get someone to look at the roof, it probably would leak next rain storm.

Stanley rolled back his shoulders and gave the biggest grin he could as he stepped off the porch.

“Welcome to the Murder Hut…name still in progress.”

The crowd gathered around him as he stood on the top step.

“Everyone here? Everyone got cash? Good. Good.”

He took the offered bills without complaint, his smile becoming a little more genuine as he counted the amount of bills that had piled up in his hand.

“Alright. Step right up, folks, uh, to a world of... enchantment, or whatever.”

Stanley opened the back door cautiously, his palms sweating as he heard all the muttering behind him. Leading into the weird storage room close to the basement was the only plan he had. The rest of the house was trashed, after all, and this was the room with the most scientific junk. Plus, it was a large enough space that he could grow the business.

“Um, step this way. Feast your eyes on scientific wonders that the world has never seen.”

He weaved the crowd through the shelves, looking around for something that would entertain these patrons. He snatched a box off the shelf with two antennas protruding from the top. He spun around and messed with the dial as the tour group gathered around.

“Behold the, uh, nerdy science box.”

The box suddenly gave a spark. Unfortunately, it gave off such a large spark that it hit Susan in the eye.

“Ah! My eye!”

Stan felt his palms sweat more as he scrambled to set the box back on the shelf, “I can assure you that is no way permanent.”

He had no idea if it was, but a medical emergency was not a good idea for the start of his business. If this could become a business.

“I paid fifteen dollars for this!” Susan exclaimed. She had a hand over the eye that was just zapped but Stan could already tell it was puffing up.

The rest of the tour group began to mutter in discontent. The world seemed to be tunneling in on Stanley. If he could not get a steady income plus had the stain of hurting a towns person, he would have to leave town. If he left town, he would never find that second journal. Then Ford would never return.

“Um…uh…” Stan looked around the room with what he hoped was not a too panicked expression. He grabs a skeleton model he had dressed up out of boredom during the cleaning process. It looked like a tourist.

“you're lucky you weren't part of the last tour group,” He spun the skeleton around to reveal it to the group in its gaudy get up, “they never made it out aliiiivve. Heheh. Right?”

The crowd stared at him. He felt his soul be crushed as he tried to think of the quickest route back to Sherman’s place in California. Then Susan laughed.

Her laughter seemed to prompt the rest of the group and Stanely could not help but to join in.

“That’s funny,” Susan said, “Alright, show us what else you got Mystery man.”

“Right this way.”

Maybe he could make this work. He had to. For Ford.

[talkfastlibrary]

A Second Meeting—Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

**the dress photo is simply for the outfit not how I imagine reader to be! So it’s here simply for outfit choice🙂

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

Synopsis: you meet up with Jake again to discuss The Arrangement but your questions remain unanswered. Yet, you find out a bit more about Jake.

word count: 2.2k

Feedback is always welcome!

Enjoy!

****

Three days have gone by since dinner with Jake and you’re starting to think it was an illusion or a weird dream. Reynolds has been driving you everywhere just like Jake said which was nice to save money on gas but also strange because you’re not used to this. 

On Thursday Reynolds arrived with a black legal envelope and you ask if it’s the paperwork Jake mentioned. Reynolds nodded and you left it on your counter for two more days.

A week and many debates in your mind later, you finally decided to open it just to see what’s inside. You’re surprised to find it’s only five pages long. The first couple are about him, his schooling, random information, his accomplishments both in the Navy and otherwise, his likes and dislikes. 

Then there’s lists of what you’ll have access to; his house(s), cars, private plane, vacation homes, a credit card of hers linked to his account and then any form of a physical relationship should you desire one. He lists that he’s a good cuddler and gives great massages. He says he will be an ear for her whenever she needs and that he’s as much her companion as she is his.

The last page lists what she’d need to oblige to; the Naval Aviation birthday at the end of the month, naval dinners, weddings, vacations, and family get-togethers. At the bottom is a place for the both of them to sign then a post-it note from him stating your grandmother’s medical bills and further assistance from nursing staff has been taken care of by him. 

A lump forms in your throat at that nugget of information and just to make sure you open up your emails to see the final payment notices from all of your grandmother’s expenses. The papers drop to the floor and you’re soon to follow in a crumpled heap. You start to cry but then pull  yourself together quickly because you know once you start you won’t be able to stop. 

“Keep it together,” you whisper to yourself and shuffle the papers back in order. 

Then you start to truly think of all the things he can help you with financially; you could move your grandma back home, pay off your loans and debts on credit cards you used for your grandma. You pick up the last piece of paper that has his note and there’s a phone number next to it. 

You take out your phone and type in the number followed by a quick text:

I read the paperwork. I still have questions. Can we meet again?

His response is fairly quick back:

Of course. Join me for brunch tomorrow? Reynolds will know where to take you, he’ll be there by 11:00

You simple like the response. Your heart is pounding. 

Are you actually going to agree to this?

***

Reynolds is knocking on your door at 11:00 and he smiles when you open the door. 

“Good morning, Reynolds.”

“Good morning, Miss y/n.”

“I hate to ask…but does this look okay? I don’t want to be underdressed,” you press down on your light green dress. It reminded you of Jake’s eyes. 

“You look wonderful. Mr. Seresin will agree, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you exhale and follow him to the car. “Where are we going?”

“A favorite brunch spot of his called Horizons.”

“Oh…” you chew on your lip as you climb into the backseat. You were almost hoping it would be at his home, surely he has staff to cook for him. Why would he want to cook for you anyway?

The drive is only thirty minutes and you’re tapping on the black envelope with the paperwork you pulled from your bag. You run through the questions you had so you don’t forget them. When you arrive at the restaurant you see it’s along the water, luxury cars are shining in the morning sun. 

Just like with dinner, the host walks you to the back on the deck outside where Jake is. He stands up when you appear, all smiles and so very handsome. He looks wonderful in tan chinos and a green sweater that matches your dress perfectly. 

“Good morning, y/n,” he greets. His eyes slide down to the envelope but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Morning,” you respond shyly. 

“I hope you’re hungry, they have wonderful omelets,” he pulls out your chair. 

“Do they have pancakes?”

“Yes, they have pancakes.”

After placing your order and being given your drinks, you slide the black envelope on the table but Jake covers your hand. You look up and he has a slight frown on his face. 

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” he removes his hand then proceeds to cut up his egg. “Tell me about your week, what did you do?”

You stare at him in confusion and he senses your hesitancy. He shifts his gaze from his breakfast to your puzzled expression. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so confused and have so many questions about all of this…”

“I know, and I promise we will discuss it.”

“But you said the ball was in my court, so can’t we talk about it now?”

“That depends,” he grins.

“On?”

“By saying the ball is in your court…does that mean you agree and signed the form?”

You close your mouth then huff because you haven’t agreed to anything and definitely didn’t sign for it. You felt a bit of a kinship to the little mermaid, Ariel, signing that could mean signing your life away for all you knew. You were going to voice all your concerns. He smiles back easily because he knows he’s got you, and it’s not in a patronizing way which makes it worse.

“That’s what I thought. Now, tell me about your week. I’ve thought of you everyday.”

Your stomach flips at that comment. How does he do that? He slips in these one liners that always catches you off guard but also makes you feel fuzzy inside. 

You continue your breakfast and tell him about your week. How busy you’ve been, how late you’ve been getting home from work and the constant headache you seem to be getting. While you’re talking you realize how easy it is to talk to him. You spill everything you’ve been feeling and he really listens which is something you’re not used to. 

While he takes care of the bill you gaze out at the water watching the waves ebb and flow.

“Would you like to walk along the beach?” he asks.

“Could we?”

“Of course, I take it you didn’t bring a sweater?”

“No…”

“I came prepared,” he nods, then pulls a cream cardigan from the back of his chair as he stands. You stand up as well. 

“I’ll be okay–”

But then a breeze blows and you shiver. He gives you a knowing look then holds up the cardigan. You turn around as he helps you put it on,  his fingers brush the top of your arms and you shiver again. 

“Fits you perfectly,” he mumbles, his breath blowing in your ear. He’s standing very close to you.

“Is it yours?” you spin away from him. Being so close is making it hard for you to think. 

“No. I bought it for you.”

“What?” you squeak, eyes widening at the gesture. “You didn’t have to–”

“I wanted to,” he shrugs, placing his hands in his pockets. He rolls back and forth on the balls of his feet then jerks his head towards the water. “How about that walk?”

It’s a little steep and rocky getting down to the water, you’re grateful you decided on a nice pair of sandals and not your wedges you were debating on. There’s one more big drop and you pause staring at the distance of it. Jake hopped down no problem.

“Jump,” he holds out his arms, “I’ve got you.”

You inch forward, some pebbles tumble to the earth as you crouch down. You gauge the distance again between you and his open arms.

“Are you sure?” you chew on your lip.

“Positive. Jump, y/n,” he commands softly, his fingers motioning you forward.

You suck in a deep breath, close your eyes and push off. You gasp the short moment you’re in the air and then you’re in the sturdy arms of Jake, his hands curve around your waist and lower back while yours is locked behind his neck. 

“Why’d you close your eyes?” he asks.

“So it’d be over faster,” you exhale.

He sets you down, gently releasing you from his hold. You’re not sure if he did that to keep you at ease or if he didn’t really want to touch you.

“You have more questions, don’t you?” he moves through the sand and you follow.

“Only a hundred.”

You walk in silence for a bit and he still keeps a chaste distance between the two of you then a realization comes to your mind. 

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“I have Sundays off,” he shrugs gazing out on the water.

“Oh…” 

“Would you like to sit for a while?” he motions towards a large piece of driftwood that has been flattened enough to make a decent bench. You nod and join him on the smooth wood.

You count in your head to eighty-three seconds then take that as your cue to ask your first question. You open your mouth but he speaks first. 

“Amazing how water can be so calm and then so violent the next, isn’t it?”

You stare out at the water, a few white caps rolling in and then outlines of boats in the distance. It doesn’t look too bad from here but you’ve read about riptides and how dangerous they can be under the surface of the water.

“Do you not like the water?” you ask carefully, somehow this seems like a sensitive topic for him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs leaning on his knees. “It reminds me of you, actually. You look so calm and peaceful on the outside but on the inside, you’ve got a riptide, a true force. I saw it last week at dinner with how quick you jumped to all of those conclusions about me.”

You sit up a little straighter at the mention of riptides, it was like he was reading your mind. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no, you have every right to think of all angles of this. I want to know your questions, y/n, I do. But I first need you to trust me that there is no recourse or trap of some kind.”

“How can I trust you when I hardly know you?” you’re staring at him as he stares at the water, the soft oceanic breeze tousles his hair. The undersides of his eyes look a little dark, like he hasn’t been sleeping. 

“You read all about me in the paperwork.”

“That’s not the same, that’s just words on a sheet but it doesn’t really show me who you are. And signing it would feel like I’m signing my life away to the devil or Ursula.”

“Ursula?” he cocks his head to the side smirking, “from the Little Mermaid?”

“Yes. Ariel lost her voice, I don’t want to lose mine.”

“That’s not going to happen. You have a wonderful voice that is very sure and profound. You might be a little closer to the devil aspect.”

“Are you the devil?”

“I’ve been referred to him once or twice,” he nods. “Does that scare you?”

You squint your eyes at him puckering your lips. You notice the way his eyes flick down to your lips and you look over the top of his head.

“Turn forward,” you instruct and he does so, “now look to the right…”

“What are you looking for?”

“Horns. I don’t see any so you must not be the devil.”

That makes him laugh, it causes his eyes to crinkle and you can see how nice his teeth are. He really does have a great smile.

“You’re sweet.”

“Can we discuss the paperwork now?” 

“Not yet, let’s enjoy the water for a bit longer.”

You sit in silence watching the waves roll and flower over the shore with seagulls swooping down low. The water looks so inviting you remove your sandals then walk to the edge of the beach. The wet sand is a little cool but the squish feels nice between your toes. You take a few paces forward and then the water rolls over your feet causing you to squeal at the coolness. You close your eyes inhaling the fresh salty air, the skirt of your dress flapping against your legs and one sleeve of your cardigan falls down your shoulder. 

Your questions are still bouncing around your head but now a new part of you is wishing Jake would come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. You want to hear his voice close to your ear again and maybe see what his smile feels like against your own lips. With a sigh, you open your eyes then turn around to see he’s already staring at you, his gaze intense and smoldering. It makes your cheeks warm and also a little sad because you can see a violent storm in his eyes, just like the one he was talking about with the water. 

What’s his violent storm?

[butchmiles]

Sorry for the early morning rant but ugh we had a rough night last night. Our dishwasher has been broken for quite some time with no communication from the property on when it’ll be fixed or replaced. We’ve had to make time to hand wash dishes on top of us both working 9 hour shifts everyday and our usual daily chores of (vacuuming, taking out the trash, wiping down surfaces with bleach, steam mopping the floors, and up until last night doing laundry). Last night our laundry washer not only crapped out and stopped going through it’s cleaning cycles it also backed up with what looks and smells like sewage water. The smell is so strong it’s making Dean’s existing nasal infection (brought on by the unaddressed mold and ventilation issues in the apartment) even worse. They’re so hoarse they can barely be heard after being up all night coughing. We are at our wits end right now.

We went through the application process for a new apartment that lasted for about 3 months of back and forth. We managed to raise enough money to pay the insane fees to apply to the apartment which were $300 for the applications, administrative fee, and holding fee and and the $1,810 deposit for the guarantor company we had to apply with because we couldn’t raise enough to pay down our credit debt accounts in time. The apartment approved us based on the proof of income given and then radio silence until we happened to check the apartments website and notice the apartment we had paid to apply to and reserve was back on the market. We called them to get an explanation since nothing was communicated to us after the approval. After basically dragging it out of them over the course of another week of back and forth the property manager explained that corporate decided to revoke our approval because Dean works through a staffing agency so they couldn’t take Deans income as valid. An insane concept all things considered. Money is money.

So there we were fully packed and no longer with anywhere to go.

Our lease end was fast approaching and we had no other option but to extend the lease here from the end date of November 2023 to the end date of February 2024 and try to pay off the $11,210 in collections that was dragging our scores down to the point that no apartment would approve our application despite a near perfect rental history (no evictions, lease violations, or even complaints) and at the times of applying perfectly qualifiable and verifiable income based on the 3X rent rule.

Our plan is to try to pay $1,868/month towards this total of debt collections in order to have them cleared and letters of payment available to apply for an apartment that checks every single box we were looking for in a new place. The minimum score requirement for this apartment is 599. We are both about 50 points from that as of today.

Currently our non negotiable expenses per month are as listed

Rent $1,680 (this will increase to $3,025.99 starting November 18th)

Renters insurance $30.50 (required according to the lease. A lapse in coverage results in fees charged by property)

Phone bill $350 (mine, Dean’s work and personal, and my disabled MIL lines)

Light bill $110 (this is with budget billing in place)

Pet insurance $40 (we have a cat for our anxiety)

Food shopping $400 (this includes both human and cat food as well as travel expenses to get to and from an affordable grocery store to do the big shop once a month because we do not have a car or if that option is not feasible then to pay for grocery delivery through Shipt)

Medical expenses $600 (at minimum, sometimes more) (Sertraline x2, Ritalin, Quetiapine, Duloxetine, Labs and blood work, Testosterone, and immunotherapy.)

Toiletries $75 ish (pads, tissue, soap, toothpaste, laundry detergent, dish soap/pods, cleaning suppplies)

Totaling $3,285.50/month (until November when this will increase to $4,631.49)

Currently we are both working full time jobs, no health insurance, no car, no savings.

After taxes we bring in a combined income of $5,050/month and as shown above $3,285 of that is unavoidably spoken for until November to February when $4,631.49 of that will be spoken for.

All this to say that we do not have room to pay off the necessary debt that would allow us to apply to, get approved for, and move into a new apartment within our budget and needs. We would really appreciate any kind of help that could be given. We just really want to be in a place that doesn’t make our already pretty bad health issues even worse. In addition, we want to be able to know that what we are bringing in will be enough to support ourselves without the overwhelming worry of “will we need to crowdfund and borrow this month?” and “will it be enough?”

If you’ve read this far thank you so much and please consider reblogging and sharing this and/or donating!

[simplifiedemotions]

(Don’t) Be My Valentine.

Hermione told herself it wasn’t a big deal. 

They’d been dating for seven years now, and Draco had been giving Hermione Valentine’s gifts for at least the past decade. Surely it didn’t matter if he’d missed one year, and it wasn’t as if he’d made some binding vow either. 

She was being silly.

Still, she couldn’t help thinking about it. The lack. What was different about this year compared to the rest of them?

Each year’s gift had been more ostentatious than the year before: everything from first editions of various books, both Magical and Muggle, to rendezvous to various archeological wonders in different parts of Wizarding Europe and Asia.

She’d always berated him for the expenses, whilst he’d put his arm around her, cast her that annoying self-satisfied wink which caused butterflies to upend themselves in her stomach as he explained how it was almost impossible for him to use up Malfoy money. 

Funny, at first.

Then, Hermione had been cursed. She’d gone on a trip to explore a new type of beast reported sighted on the moors of Ireland, and the poor thing, startled when Hermione had come upon its den, loosed its whip-shaped tongue at her bare skin.

He’d used up over half of the entire Malfoy fortune to save her.

She hadn’t been surprised that he’d been in love with her all those years, but she’d still reveled in the widening of his eyes and the gasp of breath that left him when she’d kissed him only moments after obtaining a clean bill of heath by a senior Medi-witch.

“You saved me.” Spoken against his mouth.

“It was never a question.” Her, pressed against a wall.

“Your funding is also the reason we now have magical antiviral drugs to combat different maledict curses.”

His silver eyes gleamed as he looked down at her. Her heart squeezed. 

“You can save the world, Granger.” His thumbs wiped the tears from her face. “I only want to save you.”

A familiar whiff of scent: parchment and fresh spring water brought Hermione back. She looked up to see Draco walking towards her. She’d been moping by the front of a corridor near the Ministry lifts, and he’d probably came by to fetch her.

“You’re distracted.” He came up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his billowing dark navy cloak cocooning her in his warmth. “Have you finally conceded to Lovegood’s Nargles theory?” he teased.

Hermione gave him her best unimpressed look, then placed her hands on his chest. He looked at her strangely.

“Not that I mind exactly, but why are you feeling me up?”

Hermione had indeed started padding his robes: in the inside pockets, underneath the holster where he kept his wand, and even going so far as digging her fingers into the backs of his trousers.

“Granger!” he huffed, pulling her into a darkened corridor. Two bright spots of colour appeared on the high points of his cheekbones. “Though I am not averse to non-work-related activities, I was coming to get you so we could go home.” He stepped closer, giving her a conspiratorial smile. “Unless you had different plans for us?”

Hermione looked up at him. “What?”

“I’m aware my devastating charm can be hard to ignore, but really, Granger, we’re in public!”

“Oh, my god.” Hermione turned and started walking towards the lifts. “I was not trying to jump your bones.”

His long strides meant he easily caught up to her. “You were feeling me up.” A statement.

“I was looking for something!” she said, then froze at his questioning look.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing!” she squeaked, all but damaging the lift bar as she aggressively pulled it up and down so that it would come faster. When that became useless, she started counting the lines on her palm.

With an amused expression on his face, he took her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles affectionately. “Don’t tell me you were looking for a Valentine’s-shaped box, Miss Hermione Granger.”

The way his mouth curved around Miss caused a peculiar feeling to start behind her ribcage.

Thankfully, the lifts arrived at that moment, and she ripped her hands away from him and went inside, busying herself with the lift buttons as if this were the first time she’d ever learned about the mechanisms of magical elevators. 

“Granger.”

“I was not looking for a gift,” she huffed.

Long arms slipped around her waist again, and Hermione couldn’t help but nestle back into the warmth of Draco’s chest.

“That’s too bad,” he said, moving her mass of hair over one shoulder and trailing a soft kiss on her bare neck. She shivered. “I have a gift for you, one I specifically wanted to give you tonight. Though I confess I’m rather nervous about giving it to you.”

Hermione’s heart started pounding. “Oh?”

Dexterous hands shifted her blouse, then a soft mouth glided against the sensitive skin of her shoulder. “It’s a gift only you could fit.”

She pressed herself back harder against him, and he groaned.

“Careful,” he commanded, but Hermione wasn’t listening. She reached her hands up behind her until she could grab at his soft hair and pull him down closer.

“Hermione,” he said, tightening his arm around her, his teeth sharp at the thinnest part of her shoulder blade. A thrill shot through her at how ragged he sounded.

Hermione turned until they were face to face, and she used the hand that wasn’t gripping the collar of Draco’s robes to hold his chin and force him to meet her eyes. “Tell me what it is, please.”

His grin was nothing short of improper. 

“First, let’s go home.”

An exhilarated dash to the Floo.

Arms wrapped around one another before the green embers started dying in their fireplace.

A rush to take each other’s clothes off, a trail of evidence leading to the bedroom of their shared flat.

Pleading and cursing; vows and tears.

“Granger.” His mouth was still on her breast, and her skin buzzed with the afterglow of pleasure.

Her fingers trailed over his hair. “Is it Granger still?” 

His smile was bright in the dark.

—

(Don’t be my valentine.)

(Be my wife.)

[sixpennydame]

The Better Man | Chapter 7

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

Read in AO3 here

Content/Warning: Explicit sexual conduct, NSFW, MDNI, descriptions of death, depression, vaginal sex, creampie, choking

A/N: A huge thanks to @mrsackermannx who supported me with some of the more intimate scenes. Only one more chapter to go...

Suggestion Music:

Levi was gone.

 But why he was taken by the Survey Corps, you do not know. When you feel stable enough to get up, you run over to the men who guard the stairs, hoping to get some information out of them.

“Tch, how are we supposed to know where they took them? But that short one sure was mad when they knocked you out,” snickered a curly haired man, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Please, just let me through, I need to catch up with them,” you plead, but the surly men just laugh. 

You knew you were getting nowhere with the guards, so you went back to the apartment to get dressed and make a plan. Several of Levi’s gang are already there, pacing the floor and visibly on edge, all of them feeling as lost as you are.

“I need you all to get out there and find out what happened today. Find out who took Levi, Farlan, and Isabelle and why.” The young men know who you are and what you mean to Levi, so they follow your orders without delay. After they leave, you go to a corner of your bedroom, lift up a loose floorboard, and take out a dusty metal container. Inside is all the money you and Levi had saved in an effort to make it above ground. It probably wasn’t even enough to buy your entrance, but at this point you were desperate. You fold the bills and put them in a money belt around your waist. You know that the longer you linger here, the further away Levi will be and any trace of his whereabouts. 

At that moment, there’s a loud noise at the door. Before you even have time to answer it, two large men barge in and grab you. As you’re kicking and screaming, they put a muslin bag over your head, tie your wrists and ankles together, and drag you outside. You scream for help, hoping that someone - anyone - will respond and come to your aid. But no one does.

What could these men want? They haven’t searched you, so your money is still safely stashed in your belt, nor have they tried to beat or rape you. Could they be some kind of secret MP’s, given the task of arresting you as well?

This becomes more of a possibility as you hear them talking to the same guards you’d questioned earlier at the stairs’s entrance. The bigger one has you slung over his shoulder, but you can now feel that you’re going up stairs. Are you being taken above ground? Maybe you’ll be reunited with Levi after all. 

It feels like the stairs are never ending - you can even feel your ears pop as you move higher and higher. Suddenly, there’s a light shining through the bag over your head - a different kind of brightness and a heat you’ve never felt before. Even with your head covered, you have to close your eyes.

“What are you doing with me? I’ve done nothing wrong!” you scream out. 

The man holding you throws you into the back of a wagon but says nothing. You have no idea where they’re taking you and they only stop to let you relieve yourself. It feels like hour upon hour passes, but really you have no idea how much time has gone by. At some point, you fall asleep out of pure exhaustion and only wake up when the wagon comes to a harsh stop.

One of the men pulls you out of the wagon by your legs and you start kicking, but they easily overpower you. When they yank the bag off of your head, you stop resisting.

It’s so bright. You’re now keenly aware of the sounds around you: wagons and horses, people bustling by and talking to each other. When your eyes adjust, you begin to see images that go with the sounds. You’re above ground. It’s all overwhelming. 

“Where am I?” 

The men laugh. “You’re right outside Stohess District, within Wall Rose. You’ve just won the lottery, missy,” one of them says.

“W-what do you mean? I’m not being arrested?”

“Quite the opposite. You’re now a citizen of Wall Rose.” The other man throws a small leather satchel at you. Inside are your wall citizenship papers and other forged documents. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask the men as they get back on the wagon.

“That’s not our problem.”

You’re confused, but you know this has to have something to do with Levi, so you prod further. “Where is Levi? Where did the Survey Corps take him?”

“He’s dead,” one of them dryly replies as he flicks the reins and they drive away. 

You’re left in the dust of their departing wagon, dirty and hungry, your mind swirling with thoughts and questions. You’re not sure of where to go or what to do from here, but one thing is certain:

Levi is gone and you are alone.

_____

A large clap of thunder startles you and you drop the bowl you were carrying, shattering it into several pieces. A nasty storm raged through Trost late last night, and can still be heard, even in the distance. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Meyer,” you say as you pick up the pieces of the earthenware bowl, “thunder has always scared me, ever since I was a child. I’ll buy you another bowl.”

“Think nothing of it, dear,” Mr. Meyer kindly replies. “It was old anyway. And you must be eager for Lars to return.”

“Yes, it should be any day now.” It’s been a little over two weeks since the Corps embarked on their expedition and if everything went as planned, you expected their return either today or tomorrow. But you’d learned not to get your hopes up - anything could happen out there. 

You couldn’t help but feel especially eager this time around. In just a few more days, Lars will resign from the Survey Corps and you can continue the next part of your marriage together. You’ll start a family, buy some land, and who knows - maybe you could even have your own bakery. Anything seemed possible now. 

You daydream about being pregnant with Lars’ child and being a mother, which makes you nervous. You never knew your own mother - would you even be a good parent? You decide that love is the most important thing, and the child will certainly have more than enough of that from you and Lars. And you’ll be damned if your baby comes into an unloving, broken family. 

But for the briefest of moments, you think back to memories of wanting Levi’s child. How there were times you would secretly hope you’d get pregnant, even though Levi was always so careful. He’d deny it, but you knew he’d make such a wonderful father - a little overprotective, perhaps, but loving and doting..”

You will yourself to stop these thoughts. Levi is in the past, you repeat to yourself again and again.

Lars is your present, your future.

 As the late afternoon sun shines through the bakery windows, you hear the shuffling of people and voices outside. It’s a familiar kind of energy - the Survey Corps must be returning.

Mr. Meyers gives you a knowing glance and a nod, then you leave the bakery and take the all-too-familiar route to the town square, just as you’ve done for every other expedition. Lars will probably be helping unload injured or getting his own scrapes attended to. You work your way through the crowd, looking for any sign of Lars or his squad.

When you finally find Petra, Oluo, and Eld, you head straight to them. “Where’s Lars? Is he inside the hospital? How many stitches is it this time?”

Your smile disappears when you finally look at Petra. She has tears in her eyes. “Lars is..”

You start moving backwards, shaking your head.

No.

 “Where is he?” Your voice cracks.

Eld moves toward you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “His body was taken inside to be cleaned..”

You wince when he says “body” and pull his hand off of you. It’s not true, it’s not true, you say to yourself as you walk into the hospital and ascend each step.

Then you see Gunther and Levi, placing a covered body on a stretcher, their eyes cast downward. Your stomach drops.

You walk tentatively forward. When the two men see you, they step back, allowing you to stand next to the stretcher. “No…” your voice is barely a whisper.

You look at them, your eyes pleading to them to say it’s someone else - anyone else. But they can’t even look at you.

So you move toward the body and pull down the cover. Then it’s like all the breath has been knocked out of you.

There, under the cover, is Lars. His eyes are closed, peaceful, but you can’t look for more than a second before you start to feel dizzy and confused, as if everything is spinning. You stretch your hand out to brace yourself against the wall. 

Is someone saying your name? It sounds far away. You look at Levi - his mouth is moving. What is he saying? 

“What happened,” you somehow manage to ask. 

“There was a titan attack. An abnormal came out of the trees and my ODM gear wouldn’t work. He-,” Levi pauses for a moment, “he gave his life to save me.”

“Save you?” you repeat the words but it’s as if you can’t fully process anything you’re hearing. You feel completely numb. “Idiot..I told him to look after himself first. To keep himself alive so we..” you can’t even finish your sentence; the numbness is replaced with a deep sadness rising up from the pit of your stomach. 

A nurse comes into the corridor. “Excuse me, but we need to clean the body before it’s given to the family.”

Before she even has time to move the stretcher, you grab her hand. “I’m his wife - I’ll clean his body.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s against hospital regulation,” she tries to move her hand, but you’ve grabbed it hard.

“I don’t give a shit about regulations. Noone is gonna lay a hand on him.” Your voice is resolute.

Levi steps between you and the nurse. “I’ll deal with any administration that has a problem with what she wants to do. Just give her the room with him.” He looks at you, placing a gentle hand on top of yours. “Y/n, let go of the nurse.”

You release the nurse’s hand and she steps back. “Just..follow me,” she says, shaking her head and leading you all to a small room at the end of the hall.

Lars' body is brought into the room and laid on a cold, metal table. The nurse prepares the cleaning materials, then everyone leaves except Levi. You can feel him behind you. 

“Get out..” you weakly command. 

Levi says your name and reaches out to you. 

“Get out!” Your body bristles and your pain explodes into those two words. 

Then silence. What can Levi even say at this moment? He feels completely helpless. “I’ll be outside,” is all he can muster before he walks out and closes the door.

The afternoon sun is shining through the room, giving it a golden glow. A slight medicinal smell fills the air and it stings your nose, but other than that, you don’t feel anything. In a daze, you walk over to Lars and uncover his body. 

Death is a common sight in The Underground. It’s a shadow that follows everyone. If you didn’t die of malnutrition or lack of sunlight, you’d probably be killed by some other desperate soul just trying to survive. Rotting, decomposing bodies in the streets, abandoned and forgotten - by the time you were an adult, the sight barely phased you. 

But now, looking at your husband’s body, you feel queasy and faint. Bile rises up into your throat, and you have to swallow hard to keep it down. His body - it’s difficult for you to imagine him now as just a body - is bloody and dirty, and his right leg is missing from just above the knee. His skin is cold and stiff, and when you start taking off his uniform, more cuts and bruises are revealed. Numbness once again washes over you, a defense mechanism from enduring years of loss and pain. But you’ve never experienced a loss like this. 

There’s a basin of hot, soapy water next to the table so you take a sponge and begin washing his face and hair. As you continue down his body, tears begin to form in your eyes, the reality of your lover’s death sinking in more and more. But you blink them away - you’re not ready to mourn yet. 

When you finish, you cover him with a cotton sheet and it looks as if he’s only sleeping, but there's a smell in the air that reminds you otherwise. As you gently dry his hair with a towel, memories you had pushed aside for the moment suddenly come flooding back. You’d spent almost four years with this man and just like that, he’s gone. 

And that’s when the tears start falling down your cheeks. You take a deep breath and just start crying, your whole body convulsing with sorrow. It’s a physical pain that radiates from your heart and travels through your nerves. You drape your body over his covered torso, pleading for your lover to come back to you.

Levi sits in front of the door through the rest of the night; a silent sentinel as he listens to your muffled cries.

You awaken early the next morning to Levi gently shaking your shoulder. “Wake up. Lars’ mother and father are here.”

You rub your swollen, bloodshot eyes. When did you finally fall asleep last night? Your head feels groggy, as if you’re in some state between sleeping and waking, but when Lars’ parents enter the room, you are jolted awake.

Lars’ mother clasps her hand over her mouth. “No..my boy..my sweet Lars..” she walks over to the table on which his body still lies. “No, no, no..” she wails.

His father takes his time walking over, but neither of them acknowledge your presence. He puts his hand on his wife’s shoulder as she weeps over Lars’ body. 

“We should get him to a mortician as soon as possible so we can take his body home,” he finally remarks.

“Yes..let me just go back home and change my clothes, and then I can meet you both later to depart for Ehrmich,” you weakly reply to him as you stand up to walk towards the door.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Lars’ mother shoots her head toward you. “As far as we are concerned, we have no more connection to you. We’ll handle Lars’ burial.”

You stand there in absolute shock at her words. “What do you mean? I’m his wife.”

“And we never wanted that for him. I mean, who even are you? You have no family, no history. We know absolutely nothing about you.”

She moves closer to you, her face contorted with grief. “Do you want to know why Lars never brought you to our home to visit? It’s because he knew that we disapproved of this marriage from the start. He was too good for you!” She looks around the room. “He was too good for any of this!”

“That’s enough, dear.” Lars’ father finally interjects, the pain and sorrow visible on his face. “I’m sorry, but it would be better if you’d let us handle things from now on.”

Some hospital staff arrive to help move Lar’s body out of the hospital. As his parents depart, the father stops as if he wants to say something to you, but shakes his head and moves on.

You stand in the now-empty room in complete shock. A voice inside you is screaming for you to fight back, to insist that you accompany Lars and his family back to his hometown. 

But you don’t because there’s another voice telling you that they’re right. You were never good enough for Lars, you��ve known that from the very beginning. For the last few years, you thought you were more, that you were worth something. Lars had made you feel that way. But you’ve always been just some trash from The Underground with no family and no future. 

Levi had stepped out of the room when the parents arrived, in order for you all to have privacy, but he was confused when you didn’t leave with them. When he looks in the room he sees you standing there in a daze. 

“Hey, you alright?” He says, eyes full of concern.

“I’m tired..”

“Why aren’t you going with Lars’ parents?”

“They don’t want me. I’m going home.”

He’s taken aback by those words. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, please I -“ you swallow hard. Your throat is so dry from crying. “I want to be alone,”

He watches as you walk away, wanting so badly to stop you, hold you close, and let you cry in his arms. But his own sadness and guilt stop him. Why did Lars do something so stupid? Why was he so reckless when helping others? You were finally in a place where Levi knew you would be safe and cared for, with a good man; now, that’s all gone.

Lars was the better man for you. He should be the one laying on that cold metal table; nobody would mourn him if he was gone.

Maybe she would, Levi thought to himself, as he looked out the window and saw you walk away.

You don’t really know how you get home, but somehow your body places one foot in front of the other and you walk out of the hospital and down the street. 

You feel completely empty - void of my feelings, tears, energy. Lars’ woolen military coat is hanging on a chair. You’d told him to bring it on the expedition, but he’d said it wasn’t cold enough yet. You grab the coat, hold it close, and fall onto the bed. It still smells like him - a mix of pine trees and sunshine - and you realize you’ll never smell that again, never feel his arms around you again. 

Your chest tightens and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. You gasp for air but it feels like it’s not enough to fill your lungs, as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. A few years ago, you’d almost drowned when you tried to swim with Lars in a lake outside Jinae. Your lungs ached for air and panic had set in until Lars was able to pull you up just in time. This feels exactly the same.

Except Lars isn’t here to save you this time.

You close your eyes, hoping you’ll fall asleep and never wake up.

_____

A week passes, and Levi is making his way to Trost. He volunteered to pick up supplies needed for Headquarters, which he could have easily assigned to someone lower in rank, but he wanted an excuse to check on you. The entire squad had traveled to Ehrmich District for Lars’ funeral and burial and he had expected to see you there, but you were nowhere to be found. When he asked the others, they hadn’t heard from you. 

Lars’ final words to Levi echoed in his mind daily. He had to make sure you were alright. 

He first stopped at the bakery, hoping you would be working, but Mr. Meyer said he hadn’t seen or heard from you since you’d left to meet the Survey Corps’ return. 

“I went by her home to see if she was ok, but no one had answered. I just assumed she’d stayed in Ehrmich with Lars’ family.”

Now Levi was worried. His stomach was in knots as he rode to your house and just as it was with Mr. Meyer, there’s no answer when he knocks. The door is locked, but Levi had learned how to pick a lock in his younger days, and he makes quick work of getting it open. 

It’s dark when Levi enters, and the air is stale and heavy. There’s a half eaten loaf of bread on the table and he notices a dying fire in the hearth, the only sign that you must still be here.

It’s when he enters the bedroom that he sees your body curled up on the bed, a wool blanket wrapped tightly around you.

He sits on the bed and moves your hair off your face; when he says your name, your head turns toward him. 

“Levi? What are you doing here?”

“Nobody has seen or heard from you. Have you even been outside lately?”

“I don’t know…what day is it?”

Levi looks around the unkempt room. “This place looks like shit,” he turns back to you, “and you look even worse.”

You tighten the blanket around you. “Please Levi..just leave me alone. I want to sleep.”

“From the looks of it, that’s all you’ve been doing.” Levi opens the curtains of the front window and starts cleaning up the place. There’s clothes strewn about everywhere and as he starts folding them and putting them away, he notices Lars’ wool jacket next to you. He puts it on a hanger. 

“I heated up some water. You need a bath.” You look so weak, and so Levi sits on the bed and lifts you into his arms. “Come on, let’s get you in the tub.”

He carries you to the washroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and your head leaning on his shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d come to see me.”

He clicks his tongue. “Don’t be stupid.” When he gets to the bathtub he puts you down and his expression softens. “I should have come sooner.”

You lift your arms and he helps you take off your sleeping gown. He thought you felt light when he carried you, but looking at your naked body, he can tell you haven’t been eating much, if at all. You hold his hand as you slowly step into the tub and sink into the water. 

You’re not sure why your body aches the way that it does, but the warmth of the water instantly makes you feel more alive. Levi sits next to the tub, wets a washcloth, and begins to wash your hair and weary body. 

Levi handles you as if you are the most precious thing, capable of breaking at a moment’s notice. His hands are gentle as he moves the washcloth over your arms and legs. 

A sigh escapes him as he looks at your emaciated state. “Y/n, what are you doing? You’re only hurting yourself by not eating.”

“Maybe that’s the plan.”

“Hey,” he grabs your chin and turns you to look at him, “don’t say shit like that.”

Your mouth turns downward. “Why do you care? You gave away that right a long time ago.”

He lets go of you, sadness and guilt shrouded in his eyes. “You know I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Right. You cared so much that you left.”

“I got you above ground. I..thought what I did was the right thing.”

“It wasn’t,” you say bluntly. “Can’t you see? You broke my heart into a thousand pieces. And just when I was putting them together again, this-”

You run your fingers through your wet hair, a knot of despair growing larger inside you. “There’s never a goodbye. Just the men I love, torn from me. I’m tired of being left behind.”

Levi sits there silently, his heart aching for you. He yearns to take away all your hurt and pain, but he knows that he’s the root of so much of your sadness.  

“It’s like I’m underground all over again. Any ray of light I touch…disappears. Why can I not keep anyone in my life?”

“I’m here. I’m in your life,” Levi retorts, but he knows it’s a weak defense.

“By chance, not by choice. If it wasn’t for Lars, if he hadn’t joined the Corps and your squad, I would still think you were dead.”

You’re right, he can’t deny it. He’d done it all so you’d have a chance at a new, better life, but had hurt you deeply in the process. “I…made the wrong choice. I’m sorry.”

You put your head in your hands, hopeless. “It’s too late for apologies.” You suddenly stand and step out of the tub, but Levi immediately reaches out to you. You try to get out his grip, but it only makes him hold on to you tighter.

“I’m all alone now.”

Levi sighs. “You’re not alone.”

“Oh yeah? Where were you when I was left to fend for myself in Stohess? When I had to sleep in alleyways and under bridges because I had nowhere to go? When I was knocked out and robbed of all the money you and I had saved?” You push his chest with each question. “Where were you when I searched every jail and prison in Wall Rose for any sign that you were alive?”

Levi grabs your shoulders and looks intently into your eyes. The same sad eyes of a little girl who’d been beaten and exploited by her father, with the same look you gave him when he rescued you from that brothel so long ago. When he was a boy he’d vowed to protect you, and now he knows he hadn’t lived up to that promise. 

“STOP. I’m here now. And I’m not leaving you, ever again.”

There’s silence except for your deep breaths. Without realizing it, he’s pulled you close; so close that your bodies are almost touching.

“You are?”

He’s forever tethered to you, he knows that now. He will never stop loving you, will never stop fighting for you. 

“..yes..” his voice is a whisper as he moves ever closer. He loosens his grip and you look at him with lidded eyes. There’s sadness there, but something else too. His eyes rove over your naked body and he dares to move his hands lower until they rest on the small of your waist. 

He hasn’t touched you in years, but it’s so familiar, your body instantly reacts to it. Without thinking, your hand cups his cheek. This yearning, this love, you can’t escape it; it’s left a deep scar that will never go away. You’d once thought of Levi’s love as a shadow, deep and cool; but his love is a fire, its heat consumes you until nothing is left but ashes and dust.  

And so you throw yourself into the flames.

Neither of you knows who moved first, but your lips crash together with a bold desire that can only be known between former lovers. You want him, you want him inside you, to fill this emptiness in your heart. You tug at his shirt while he pulls off his boots and undoes his pants, both of you desperate to feel something - anything - other than this deep pain and longing the two of you share. He grabs your breasts hard as you bite and kiss down his neck, and he takes in a breath when he feels your teeth. He grabs the hair at the nape of your neck and forces you to look at him; the look in your eyes is wild and untethered and he grows hard with desire. He lifts you up and presses you against the tiled wall. 

Your legs wrap around him as his cock enters you, so forcefully that it takes your breath away. But you welcome the pain and Levi thrusts even harder, his lips all over you.

“I’m here. I’m right here…feel me? Can you feel me right here?”

“Y-yes..” you moan. “Levi…I need you,” you plead. “Harder…”

He grunts as he pounds into you. “I tried to stay away from you. I wanted you to be happy without me. But I can’t.” He moans. “I can’t.”

Your hand grips his hair and you close your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure of Levi fucking you. You’d never forgotten this feeling, even though you hadn’t touched each other for so long. 

He lifts you up a little higher then walks you over to the bed. Although he throws you down and is on top of you in an instant, you quickly turn the tables and push him down. You straddle him and begin to rub your swollen pussy over his cock, but when he can’t take it anymore he grabs your hips and pushes himself inside you. The act warrants a loud moan from both of you, then you’re riding his cock, his fingers digging into your hips as you move them up and down. You sit up and put your hands on his chest; as if you were made for him, your walls stretch around his girth. It all feels like you’re moving on pure instinct; your logical mind shuts off as you give in to your primal desires.

But then it suddenly hits you - you’re fucking Levi on your bed; the same bed that you and Lars shared. Emotions overwhelm you as you think about the intimate moments shared with him here. Now, he’s gone and Levi is here; the man who left you alone and abandoned, even when he claims to love you.

Pleasure and pain. Hurt and desire. Love and guilt. Each emotion manifests in every snap of your hips. 

The next thing you know, your palm closes over his throat, flattened fingers closing in on the sides of his neck, and his eyes flash. The subtle dominance of your grip is the personification of your hold on him, as you wordlessly demand his every sound and breath in this moment.

Being manhandled like this by you, your act of taking his reigns like he’s not fucking the breath out of you makes his lip curl. The gesture does not go unnoticed by you, so with your eyes locked, you dare a little pressure against his throat just to show him. The thinning of oxygen seems to cut through any numbness he felt, leaving him stripped bare with every single sensation from you running unbridled through his veins.

You feel it, your power over him as all his defenses break down. A moan escapes your mouth as he hits a deeper spot of pleasure, nails sinking into his biceps. “I knew it. You’ve been waiting to get me like this,” you lean closer, “haven’t you?”

You couldn’t stop the words leaving your throat; it felt like if Levi was going to help you through this like he promised, then you needed to twist the knife. Nothing with you and Levi was ever easy. 

Your words, mingled with his own guilt, spark a feral anger in him. Enraged, he flips you over, pinning your hands above your head and pushing your legs against your chest as he fucks you hard without mercy or remorse. 

He leans in close, his sweat dripping on your chest. “My apologies aren’t good enough, so what do you want me to say? Huh? That it drove me crazy to think of you fucking another man, when I knew you were mine? That this pussy has always been mine. That so many times, I wanted to fuck his scent off of you.” 

His grip on your wrists tightens. The sound of his skin slamming into yours reverberates through the room. “But you belong to me. You always have.”

“Y-yes..” you moan. There’s no denying it from either of you any longer. You have always been Levi’s - mind, body, and soul.

When he feels his climax approaching, he doesn’t pull out. He wants to claim you, once and for all, so he comes inside you with one hard thrust.

His cock twitches as it fills you up, but you don’t resist it. Even after his climax, he continues to grind into you until you meet your own orgasm - an intense jolt of pleasure surging through you. 

You lie next to each other, sweaty and breathless. You’d laid yourselves bare to each, physically and emotionally - no more lies, no more pretenses. But your body’s pleasure was quickly being replaced with a feeling of guilt. Had you been pretending with Lars all along? No, what you had with him was true. But why does being with Levi feel so right?

Levi pulls you into his arms and you put your head on his chest. You can hear his heart beating, steady and strong. “It’s not wrong, what we did,” he says, as if he can read your mind. “I love you. I’m going to take care of you.”

You answer by wrapping your arm around his waist. He loves you; after everything, he still chooses you. Maybe this is a chance to begin again. 

The afternoon passes and neither of you move from each other’s arms. Eventually, Levi rises from the bed.

“I need to get back to Headquarters. They’ll wonder what happened if I don’t return soon.” 

You watch him as he walks to the washroom, gathers his clothes, and gets dressed. “Don’t go,” you plead. 

He looks at you and his face softens as he ties his ascot. “I have to, but I’ll be back in 3 days. I’m going to have some food sent to you and I want you to eat. No more starving yourself.”

As he walks by the bed you sit up and grab his arm. “Don’t go back, Levi. Quit the Survey Corps. We can leave this place, together. Just us - like it used to be.”

His eyes widen then his face grows serious as he sits next to you. “You know I can’t do that. I made a promise, one that I don’t take lightly.”

Those words feel like metal in your veins. “Lars said the same thing.” Your eyes water. “And what of your promise to me?”

“I don’t intend on breaking either.” His voice is resolute. “We can discuss this more later, but until then I want you to take care of yourself.”

He caresses your cheek and kisses you once more, and then you hear the front door open and close as he returns to his world.

_____

In three days time, Levi is again riding to Trost. He didn’t make up an excuse this time, but only mentioned that he was going to check on you. No one would question that - Lars was an important part of his squad after all - but he wasn’t sure how you two should move forward in your relationship. It would need to be kept secret for a while, to avert any malicious gossip toward you. Honestly, he didn’t know how this was going to work, but he knows he wants to be with you. Too much time had already been wasted.

He knocks on the door of your house and just like before, there’s no answer; this time, however, the door is unlocked. Everything is clean and in its place, but as Levi walks from room to room, there’s nothing but darkness. 

“Can I help you with something?” An older woman calls from the entrance. When Levi turns around, she recognizes him immediately - everyone knows him in Trost. “Ah, Captain Levi. What can I do for you?”

“The woman who lived here, where did she go?”

Her face turns to a scowl. “She disappeared in the night about two days ago. At least she cleaned up and left money for the remainder of her rent.”

Levi’s heartbeat quickened. “And she gave no word of where she was going?”

“No…nothing. Oh, she did leave this on the table.” She reaches into her pocket and takes out a simple gold band. “I wasn’t sure what to do with it.” 

The woman hands it over to Levi and he presses it between his fingers, his other hand turning into a fist as the cold reality of it all hits him like a slap to the face:

You’re gone.

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[21oclock]

Start the New Year Now.

Dear Twenty-Ones,

As we all know, the year 2023 is less than 20 days away. Almost everyone who celebrates feels the need to turn a new leaf. We create a list of resolutions or goals that we would like to achieve in the new year. But many people lose sight of what they want almost a month in. They fall back into old habits or stick to the same old routine.

Yeah… let’s not do that and work for what we really want.

Here are some ways to get started or prepared for the new year 2023🧧

Create your resolution/goal list now. This will allow you to sort through and identify how you would genuinely like your new year to be. Take your time with your list and be honest.

Perform mirror work. Stand in front of the mirror each morning and tell yourself positive affirmations. This will get you in the grove of loving yourself intently and can build your confidence for the new year!

Do at home workouts for the remainder of the year. Many people wait for the new year to begin to get a gym membership. Reasons can vary such as not wanting to be billed the annual payment for this year then subsequently the next. Workout at home to build up strength for the gym.

Set your clock 15 minutes earlier each day. Many people list waking up earlier as a goal for the new year. You can work yourself into doing just that by training yourself. 15 minute increments will allow you to ease into it and build that routine.

Drink 2-3 L of water a day. Wanting better skin for the new year? A healthier lifestyle? Go ahead and drink more water. Add some lemon and mint for a refreshing taste and to detox.

Try out new skincare products. It’s not a secret that Korean skincare has been running the market for the last couple of years. Some suggestions: Soon Jung, Cosrx, The Face Shop, Innisfree. Non-Korean suggestions: Paula’s Choice, CeraVe. I will withhold specific product suggestions for now as to encourage you to do research for your own skin type. But I promise, they work!

Use Gua Sha morning or night. Using the tool can help reduce puffiness in the face. Research different methods on how to use it and get started. If you cannot get a tool, YouTube has many videos about facial hand massages.

Create vision board for 2023 on Pinterest, Tumblr, Canva, etc. Creating your vision board now will help you sort through your goals and ideas for the new year. You can also print it out sooner and post it in places you will be able to see everyday.

Create a bill planner to sort through monthly finances. By using a bill planner, you can determine how much of your money or paycheck you will need to save for monthly bills. In addition to this, you can determine how to use the remainder. For personal use? For vacations? Groceries and projects? Let’s get our finances right in 2023!

Start manifesting. To get started, purchase a small journal/notebook. Write down your manifestations and gratitude. This can be done in the morning or at night, however setting your intentions earlier in the day can help you feel more positive.

Au revoir,

21 O’Clock Blog

“A woman who masters the energetics of DESIRE can have anything she wants.”

[nevereverthem]

Gotham : Season 1 Episode 3

Earlier than I thought, here I am watching the third episode of the show.

Honestly, I can't wait to see what happens with Oswald because dude kidnapped a guy to ask for ransom... that he did not get. 🤣😭 I'm still not over the mother not believing it AT ALL.

My silly little crush wants to see Alfred so much! 🙄 I'm also all for having Brucey in his emo phase as I like to call it. I know that's not it, but just the 10 seconds frame of Bruce listening to metal-ish singers while doodling on a piece of paper was 🤌.

Selina is going to save her ass, but that sucks for the other kids though! She is one of the main characters, of course, but the other kids got their ass sent upstate! Don't you forget about that. 🥲

Anyway, here we go.

"There's a war coming..." Aaaaahhhhh! Honestly, starting the episode with Oswald's voice as a 'previously in Gotham' sort of thing, warms my heart. 😌

Gotham's streets... A bus... Oswald Cobblepot in a freaking pullover! Man is gonna be wearing a suit most of the time in the future. Let's enjoy these precious moments of him in casual clothing. 😌 The SMUDGE BLACK MAKEUP!! I know the man's got dark undereyes from exhaustion, but still.

Dude sees : Kids stealing a wallet from someone's back pocket. A cop taking money from an old asian guy. A man stealing a woman's bag. Prostitutes proposing their services to a person in a car... And all that Oswald is thinking is "home, sweet home". 🤣🤣😭😭

Okay, the story starting with a rich guy (Ronald Danzer) who did some shit. He's out on bail and plans on paying for his freedom and sneaking out to escape any problems. Like dude! That is sadly a great representation of how it works in real life too... 🙃

Balloons! And did you see that pig mask!? Foreshadowing I guess!? 😏

Oh MY! Cuffed to a balloon and being pulled up in the air!? That's so cool & terrifying at the same time. 😱

💥 INTRO TITLE 💥

Not the same punch as Oswald stabbing someone in the neck, but we'll settle for it.

Jim! 😍

"No body. We're calling it a murder?" I mean... If the guy went up until there was no oxygen available and died... I suppose it is. 🤷‍♀️ We'll see. Or, if he went that far up and then fell... He probably died from the fall... somewhere. So, it would be a murder.

For once, agreeing with Harvey. The man kinda got "what he deserved". I mean... It's a bit strong... But he probably ruined lots of people's lives so...

Bill Cranston... Switches so fast to being angry to having a hypocritical smile on his face... Dude. X) Okay, so the guy does interviews by beating people down with a little statue? I... 🙃

Hey, that's what I said! Two people killed themselves because Ronald Danzer ruined them...

Oh! Jim bringing up the Mario Pepper case! Ah!

Selina! 😌

Did she really steal Harvey's PEN!? 🤣🤣

Selina "I can see in the dark" Kyle. x) Kitty cat Kat

I don't know why, but Jim and Selina facing eachother with both hands on their own hips just makes me laugh. x)

Selina cuffed to a staircase. Legit... She's using the pen she stole to free herself from the cuffs? Damn! Plus, payoff!

Jim in the sewer. Yuk! Shoes in dirty water.

"Son of a bitch! She was telling the truth." 🤣 (Reminds me of Dean from Supernatural iykyk)

"Oh, Detective!" in Selina's sing-song voice. 🤣🤣 How she throws him back the cuffs in the sewer!

Jim's groan of frustration. 🙄

Fish! Oh no, Lazlo got beaten hard damn. 😮

Fish directly telling Montoya and Allen that Jim killed Oswald. Bitch! 🤣🤣 I mean, great move though. That's technically what happened, although he didn't actually do it. I love when the 'bad guys' tell the truth and it does serve their interests.

"Jim Gordon pulled the trigger, but who gave the order?" Yeay! Mama tryna bring Falcone down!!

"I just want justice for little Oswald." 🤣🤣 I would believe the earth is flat more than that blatant lie! 🤣🤣

Speak of the devil... 🙄

Oswald counting coins... What did he do with the guy he kidnapped? For real, are we ever gonna know? I suppose he killed him, but I would like to get some real answers. 😅

Pocket knife. 😭😭 For food at least...

"Hey, Cobblepot! You're supposed to be dead." Fuck! I wasn't expecting that.

"I'm afraid you have me confused. My name is Dimitri-" Still, the way he talks... 🥵 Plus, did he try to pull off a fake accent? x)

Oh no! Each time Oswald pleads not to be killed is... 😮

"I couldn't stay away. Gotham is my home. It's my destiny. You don't see what's coming. I do. Gotham needs me. I'm its future." Dude sounds like a cult prophet. 🤣😭 He's right though. Foreshadowing at its MAX. x)

Ouch! Achilles tendon! 😮 Killed. By the way, how Oswald manages to get rid of guys who should have physical dominance over him always impresses me.

His teeny-tiny walk! 🐧

"Can I have a tuna sandwich please?" Aw, he can be so soft... when he's been so violent ten seconds before. Bro! 🙃 I love the callback to episode 1. The first time he slits the throat of a stranger to steal his sandwich. The second time, he kills a bad guy, takes his money and actually buys the sandwich. 😌 Can someone draw Ozzie eating a tuna sandwich? 🥹 I just love seeing characters do every day activities. 😌

Waynes' manor! 😍 Okay, I might just like little Brucey ☺️ and crush hard on Alfred. 🙄

Alfred teaching Bruce fencing? Aaww.

"En garde." Aaaahhhh! I know it's the actual term for the sport practice, but each time a character says a french word, I just melt! 🫠 I am french, so just hearing my language makes me somehow proud! And boy... I'm wet. 🤣🤣 Kidding, alright. But it's AWESOME!! Plus, that's Alfred who says it. 🙄🥰

And how is the actor so good at manipulating that cane (used as a replacement for the foil)!? I'm so impressed!

By the way, that scene must have been so much fun for Bruce's actor at the time. 😌

Alfred apologizing to the armor he accidentally hit. 🤣

*Alfred hitting Bruce on the thigh or butt, not sure* "That's gotta hurt." BITCH. 🤣🤣

How did Bruce got the police file of his parents' murder? Okay, he said it wasn't hard. I suppose he just payed them. But how? I don't know if he has access to his money on his own. He's 11. Doesn't he have to get Alfred's authorization or something because he is his legal guardian? Anyway. 🙄

Bruce "If I find a clue, I am" Wayne. 🥲

Jim scrapping mud from his shoes with a paper knife? x)

Montaya straight up asking Jim about him killing Oswald. Not wasting time with innuendos. Effective.

"I didn't kill him." Which is the ACTUAL TRUTH! That's the best part. x) He is both praised and condemned for something that he did not do! I like that SO MUCH! x)

Oswald searching for a job.

"You don't even have the right shoes." Him directly looking down behind at one of the staff's shoes and grinning evilly... Is he planning on killing for SHOES now!? 🙃🙃

By the way "Here, you're on your feet all day." Me, thinking about his bad leg. 🥲

Jim and Harvey arguing about the whole situation of the Waynes' murder...

"For the last time Gordon, let it go."

"Or what? Am I gonna be the next person taken out to the pier to get a bullet in the head?"

AH! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

OSWALD!! You actually really... The shoes. 😭😭

"What size are your shoes?" Blabla "What a coincidence!" 😭😭 His laugh. 😭😭

I CANNOT.

That reinforces the feeling that I have about the fisherman's sandwich scene... That was not Oswald's first murder... Surely not... And if it was... Dude's taking a long way down... 😭🙃

Right now, I'm just thinking about Oswald telling his story to Edward, like the very first steps he took into his villain career... That would be something. 🤣😭

The interview.

Oh, 4 balloons... Who are gonna be the three other supposed-to-be victims then? 🤔

"47$?" - "You're a disgrace to drug dealers." Okay, chuckled a bit. 🙄🙃

Cranston!? OMG, I did not even recognise the guy. 😱 Honestly... I don't really mind... We saw him once... But I don't think he really deserved the balloon thing... Man... That's tough...

Attached by the ankle is worse though.

In the night with a lot less witnesses too!

ALFRED! 😍😍 No, I won't shut up.

Bruce reading the newspaper. Yeah, totally doing that at 11. 🙃

Bruce, GIMME YOUR BREAKFAST! 😋 The lil' flower though. PLEASE!

"What's the new program? Trying to see how long you can go without eating anything? If that's the case I should save myself the trouble of making it." 🔥 DAMN! 🔥 I love how he doesn't miss a moment to shoot! x) By the way, Alfred... You can make breakfast for me. 🙄 Breakfast in bed? Breakfast in your bed... in OUR bed... 🙄

Alfred is trying SO HARD. 🥲😭

Gun holder, the gun, the tie, Jim's gaze straight into the camera aaaahhhh!! 😍 Man's going into battle!

Barbara! 🥰

"[newspaper talk] It says he killed a cop. You're not in danger, are you?" GIRL! Your man is a cop... in GOTHAM. He is in danger every second of his life!

"Everyone has to matter or nobody matters." -Jim Gordon. That did something to my heart. 💔❤️‍🩹

Barbara calling Jim a "hero" because he caught Mario Pepper for the Waynes' murder... That hits hard...

Jim talking about the fact that the balloon man's targets are dirty public figures... And Harvey going "Basically any elected official should stay indoors." is so legit. 😭😭

"Listen, one thing I know is how to find someone." Harvey chatting with prostitutes... I mean, he's not wrong! They can have a lot of informations. Tough job it is! Then he beats a guy down... Typical Harvey. 😅 Stopping to get food. TYPICAL HARVEY! That was the fastest summary of his character. x)

The SHOES. 😭😭 Oswald...

Him realising that he's been hired in a Mob boss owned restaurant! 🤣🤣 His FACE. 🤣🤣 Sorry Ozzie, but you deserve it a bit. "Don Maroni!"

"Great opportunity indeed." Oswald... I can't with him. x)

Harvey got so much informations about the guy they're searching for... Okay, I have to admit that's a damn skill! Respect.

DAMN! Harvey 'woman-handled', thrown around. I appreciate that. Sorry. 🙄

Lazlo being actually worried about Fish is so cute. 🥺

What!? Bitch is getting rid of some girl I didn't understand... AND Lazlo. I... 😭

Barbara. Oh hi Montoya!

Montoya HAS THE KEY!? DAMN!!

OMG yeah, Barbare is smoking... weed I suppose. Okay okay... 🤔

Talking about Jim...

"When we were together I did lie to you." I KNEW IT!! Former lovers! Aaaaahhhh

She's talking about being sober for a year etc... What she did blabla... What did Montoya DO!? 😮

Failed attempt at a kiss. I saw that coming. RIP.

Barbara being with another person (Jim) who might also be lying to her... The pattern is repeating itself... Girl must be feeling so down.

OMG the balloons are gonna pop? It's gonna rain bodies? 😭😭 Imagine you're going about your day and then a dead body falls from the sky... 😨

Totally what happened. The woman who died though. RIP for real... 🙏

A church guy being the third victim? Not surprised... 😅🙃

Maroni talking about Arkham!! I'm so excited!!

Obviously, Oswald listening in the background...

New name : Paolo. He's really trying, but he gets it wrong. x)

He's lying about being Italian on his mother's side, "the side that he claims", but the truth is that he actually does love his mother. Half lies. x)

Maroni just gave him money out of the blue?

The little talk about starting from nothing and making yourself by working hard etc... FORESHADOWING!! 😌

"Gotham is the city of opportunity." Hum... Shouldn't it be 'Gotham is the city of crimes'? x)

"Honestly sir, I didn't hear anything at all." "Atta boy." YES!! That's actually the ONLY way to react when you are asked if you heard ANYTHING! 😌

"Go take care of your mother, Paolo." That would be so sweet... but you know... x)

The walk! I like the fact that even when we just see his upper body, Oswald's actor actually always does the walk! I mean, that's part of the character so you HAVE to do it, but like, you notice it, you actually do notice it, and I love that about him! 🥰🐧

The guy actually hiding in the former juvi facility. Meh, can't be smart about everything. Gotta catch the guy 9 minutes before the end of the episode ya know. x)

Is it a TRAP!? Like for Harvey, or Gordon? 😮

Oops. Harvey's been caught.

Harvey pleading his case to the killer saying that he's thankful, that he's doing them a favor. Great defence. 🤣🤣

Oh my God... The killer's talk though... He's so right... Public figures almost never pay for their crimes... So he did justice himself... I feel that man...

Jim's conflicted because he knows that the man's right...

FUCK!! The whole man's speech!! This is the premise of Jim's morality path... Damn it!

NNNNNOOOO! Harvey cuffing the guy to the balloon was a fucked up move! Jim grabbing the man! Please I hoped he would, but damn he's flying in the air with him now. 😭😭

Jim didn't want to let go and begged (ordered?) Harvey to shoot the balloon instead! THANK GOD! Jim, you're doing so good there. I know you're gonna go somehow dark later, but for now... freaking thank you!

The landing on the top of the pickup must have hurt though. 😅

Falcone!!

OMG Natalia was Falcone's "girl"... 😮 That's the one Fish ordered to get into an "accident". 😭

Arkham again... Damn.

Btw, Fish's makeup. 🤌

Damn. Who's the guy's last target?

Bruce's "He killed people too. That made him a criminal." Okay, let me get this straight. I don't condone murder, but I get the idea that sometime you need to be a bad guy to do good. Imagine if killing that guy now would prevent a hundred innocent people to be killed. Killing is not something right to do, but in that context, you kill one to save the others, you know? What I mean is... It's a tough subject, but if killing one person saves a lot of others... And I mean one actual bad person against kind of good people... and I don't really mean "good people", just people who actually did not do terrible things, you know. I don't even know if I would be capable of doing something like that, but the self righteous belief that killing is bad in every context... I don't think it's true. Anyway.

Alfred with his APRON. 🫠 Make me dinner too. 🥰 Please. 🙄🥰

Alfred witty remarks. x)

Bruce is EATING, finally dude.

Jim, home, must be full of bruises, damn. The man struggles to sit down. He didn't break a bone because it's a tv show, hum. 🙄

Barbara concerned again. 🥲

Seeing Jim's face... It's like he's really been 'moved' by the balloon man's speech. It's like an electroshock. I feel like he's about to tell Barbara about Oswald. 🤔 (he did not, oops)

"I want you to know that you can tell me anything." BRO! She's giving you a chance to come clean. I mean, technically you are clean, but ya know.

"This city's sick. Sick in a way I hadn't realised." For real though. 🙃 Harvey told you in the first episode. 🙃

"Doesn't matter" That's the 'last target'? Disappointing, but I get it. That also genius 'cause basically the guy only had 4 balloons, but there's way more people that would 'need' to be cuffed to it...

Jim's speech on people, justice, the law... 👌

Barbara wants to believes him so bad! Girl's crying!

OOOOHHHH, the knock knock knocking... Tell me... I think I saw that... That's him right? HIM!?

OSWALD!! 🎉 In a SUIT!! I told YOU!! (Btw, did he buy a new suit with the money Maroni gave him ? Or did he take his suit to dry-cleaning to get rid of the blood stains? Just wondering 🤔) He wanted to look good for Jim. 🙄 Let me fantasize. x)

"Hello, James. *huffs* Old friend." AAAAHHHH!!

He's already calling him 'old friend'. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I guess throwing you into the water, instead of shooting you, makes him somehow closer to a friend than an enemy, but... 🤣🤣😭😭 The AUDACITY!! x)

Jim's face. Oswald's smile. AH!

Jim had a freaking day... and it's not over. 😭

FUCKING HELL. MY GOD. I... AWESOME.

I don't even know what to say... Just... My brain's not working anymore...

[Okay, a tiny bit disappointed that we didn't see Edward this time, but I know there is going to be a lot of him in the future. So that makes up for it.]

1. Alfred did not say "bloody", not even once, in the whole damn episode!! 😮 I'm utterly disappointed!! 😔 But I still like him, of course. 🙄🥰

Late additions, two hours later, when my brain decides to function again :

Like, comment, loose your shit with me... It's your choice!!

2. Barbara will at least be relieved that her boyfriend is NOT a liar (not really yk) nor a murderer. Because here he is : Oswald Cobblepot, flesh and blood!! 😌

3. The fact that Barbara is BI, BI, BI! 🎶

Looking forward to the next episode!! 🫶

[transkeiichi]

update on my house:

lower 2 ft of walls and all floors have been ripped up, nearly every single piece of furniture has been trashed, all appliances have been trashed. our clothes were high enough in the closets that they are okay. many sentimental items were put up high to keep out of the water.

todays agenda is ripping out the a/c duct work and beginning the process of scooping mud out from our crawlspace.

our gofundme is up to $6k but that is a drop in the bucket of home repairs. my brother does construction stuff so he is trying to get us some deals on material but that is still uncertain.

yesterday, both governer bill lee and our congresswoman marsha blackburn stopped by house. we have given licensing rights to storyful to sell our videos to news agencies, and we are talks with fox weather for an interview.

everything is so crazy and happening so fast. there are dozens of volunteers all over our street helping remove debris and other manual labor, not to mention people delivering food, water, and hygiene products to us.

my whole body is sore, my legs are covered in bruises from stuff slaming into me while we were inside and the water was so rough. my cousin lives in asheville and its like a warzone there, she is hoping to get out sometime today because she hasnt taken a shower or had a hot meal since friday, or probably thursday even since it hit so early in the day.

the cats act like nothing bad has ever happened to them in their life...our dog is staying with my brother who has 4 dogs already so he is well taken care of at least even if we miss him like crazy. we saw our outdoor cat* the day after the flood, but we havent seen him again because there was no way to get him calm enough to move locations, a neighbor saw him get swept away before he saved himself so im sure hes terrified, but we have food out and a little house for him were hoping he will come back to at night when all the craziness is less.

i wish i could be there helping but i honestly feel im just in the way. i feel so overwhelmed when im there and everytime the rain starts i panic. i went back to work yesterday so i can make some money to support us a little more for now. i should get paid for my friends wedding dress either today or tomorrow depending on when i can go see her.

every day gets a little easier, but also more difficult. its starting to sink in just how different my life is and will be for who knows how long.