#“now you’re the only thing worth fighting for”

[revelboo]

Perchance could we get some more Waspinator? our sweet boy Waspinator? I'm addicted to the way you write him

Worker Bee Pt 4

Waspinator x Reader

• “What’s this?” Before you can even turn around, there’s a crash and a very small ‘oh, no.’ And you can’t even muster the energy to get angry as you find coffee grounds and your now broken coffee maker and carafe on the floor with Waspinator clasping his hands together, optics wide. Because everything he touches he accidentally destroys. It’s like having a new puppy, but instead of chewing the furniture, he can reach everything. Get into everything. When you grab the broom to clean the mess, he drops to sit in the middle of the floor and covers his head with his clawed hands. Expecting to be punished and that kills any annoyance you have with him.

• “We’ve been over this,” you tell him as you start sweeping up the broken glass and damp, smelly dirt. “I’m not going to hit you.” Pausing you reach out to gently touch his servos. Limbs trembling faintly, he slowly lowers his hands and watches you. Cleaning up his mistake without lashing out. Again. Dumping the mess in the garbage can and reluctantly adding the rest of the plastic thing. And he wants to reach for you, cling to you and safety. Feeling welcome is something wholly new, like having an actual friend. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. What are you exactly?”

• “Waspinator is Waspinator,” he replies, antenna perking up slightly and you sigh. You’d already decided that not only did his elevator not reach the top floor, you’re almost positive the shaft is empty. But getting angry at him, giving in and smacking him with the broom, would be like hitting a puppy. Though, you’re almost certain you could probably just brandish the broom at him and shoo him out of your house and your life without even touching him as skittish as he is.

• “No, see. I’m a human, but that’s not my name,” you say, leaning the broom against the counter. Bending slightly to grip his arm and tug until he obligingly stands up for you and even mass shifted, you’re so much smaller than he is. You’re close enough that he’s reminded l that he likes the way you smell and how soft you are. “You remember my name, right?”

• “Small friend.” Yeah, the elevator was never installed at all. Raking your fingers through your hair, you’re not sure if it’s worth the bothering of correcting him, when all you really care about is figuring out what he is, if there’s more of him, and if they’re dangerous. Though, from the way he acts, it’s entirely possible his own kind just ditched him here. Maybe dumping him on earth like an unwanted kitten.

• Small human friend is frowning at him again, and his wings flutter slightly. Unhappy with him? Or worried? “Waspinator protect small friend from bad Decepticons,” he reassures you, pulling you into him ignoring as you startle and almost missing your soft ‘I’m sorry, what now?’ Because this is all he needs, home and warmth. Someone who wants him nearby, who doesn’t think he’s a burden or a fool. He’ll do anything to protect this. Even fight against the other Decepticons. Stand up instead of cowering, because he has something that’s his. Something worth protecting. Resting his head on top of yours, he toys with your hair with his mandibles.

Previous

[brittle-doughie]

The Deal with Ancients V2 (Golden Cheese/White Lily Cookie)

About time I wrapped up the original post with these two. I tried dabbling some of the main story here too.

Golden Cheese Cookie

You, who reigns from the throne of gold. Blessed to bask in opulence and splendor.

Golden one, your coffers gold riches unparalleled. Does your insatiable greed match the infiniteness of your life?

A choice is awaiting you…

———————————————————————

You had set out on a journey with the Brave gang alongside Adventurer and Black Raisin Cookie on a mission to find the Golden Cheese Kingdom and deliver the letter he wrote for her. It was proving to be difficult with little map direction and the desert sun making long travel even more challenging. After many tribulations and running into a fairly enthusiastic archeologist, Olive Cookie, you had finally managed to reach the gates, where a gatekeeper was waiting.

He called himself Burnt Cheese Cookie, the keeper of the gates. In order to make it through, he asks that you complete a set of trials ranging from fighting monsters to weighing your souls on the scale. He found your soul to be the brightest among the group’s, a common thing you keep hearing about oddly…

Black Raisin Cookie was protective of you throughout your trek across the Golden City, supercar cookies wanting to take you out to on a night on the town with riches and crystals they want to shower you in to Marzipan Cookies getting too close for comfort when monitoring your group.

It wouldn’t be until the colosseum fight that you captured Golden Cheese Cookie’s interest. You and the group decided to fight the monsters to capture her attention, doing what you do best to bring them down one by one, making the cookies that had bet on you very wealthy. Taken to a cell, the Marzipan Cookies were suddenly given a change of orders. They were to take YOU to Golden Cheese Cookie’s throne room, much to the protests of your group. Black Raisin Cookie constantly demanding on wanting to know where they were taking you! The group would break out and make their way to the throne room, only to see you sitting on her throne’s armrest, lavished in gold!

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Do you like what I’ve done with them? It was only fitting that something as shining as them gets trinkets that equal in value! They simply enjoyed basking in my golden glory. Until now, I had only seen them as yet another one of you outlanders. But having a closer look at them, I can see that they’re worth much and more!”

Black Raisin couldn’t understand the words that were coming from Golden Cheese Cookie. First, she won’t participate in the fight against Dark Enchantress Cookie and now she wanted to hold onto you as if you were a trinket?! She wanted to hold in her frustration as Golden Cheese Cookie whisked you away with her to the Cheese Fondue Springs. She didn’t want you to do anything that would ruin your own radiance, but you weren’t just going to standby and let your friends handle the errors themselves!

To Golden Cheese’s surprise, you abandoned the glamour you wore on your body and helped Brave and the gang fight off the errors all around the city. A mental conflict spurs on within the gleaming goddess, you were going to ruin your crispy dough fighting all over the place light that! Yet, you shined all the same even during the heat of battle, was..was she going about your value all wrong? She stopped protesting your involvement with dealing with errors overtime, content with watching you fight and share in victory with your friends, Black Raisin Cookie was particularly glad to see that you didn’t let all that gold cloud you.

The cheese restaurant would be where Golden Cheese Cookie wanted to express her changed feelings. After having spent time with you and seeing you fight those errors earlier, she saw now that you were worth more than gold.

You: “What do you mean, Golden Cheese Cookie?”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “I see it now that you’re worth more than any amount of gold I can have, Y/N Cookie.”

You: “Oh! That’s…pretty high praise coming from a greedy goddess like you!”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Ha ha! I know! Rather odd, isn’t it? It would be a waste to send you away once you’ve wrapped up your business here. I wish to bestow upon you and your friends a chance to become denizens in my Golden Kingdom! It will allow me to appreciate your true value as a dear friend! You can even bring your family here if you like!”

Y/N Cookie: “But…I already have a home and that’s the Cookie Kingdom! My cookies need me there, Golden Cheese Cookie.”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “The city would be even more perfect than before with you in it! Your greed may be great, but mine is greedier! You’ve already caused quite a ruckus amongst my cookies, I strongly suggest that you think it over!”

The moment would soon be interrupted when Smoked Cheese Cookie attacked, spilling the revelation to the people of the Golden Cheese Kingdom and robbing Golden Cheese Cookie of her soul jam! He couldn’t control the power and everyone falls into the Golden Cheese Temple Dungeons. Her citizens watch as Golden Cheese Cookie fought off the monsters from the sarcophagus, murmuring conflicting feelings amidst themselves.

Black Raisin shared a time similar to the situation and propose the solution to let the Golden City go. Golden Cheese Cookie refused, believing that everything can be fixed and go back to normal, but even you knew that it was an only a temporary solution. Everyone in the group provided their own solutions. Wizard will track down scholar he could, Olive would not publish anything to keep the kingdom a secret and Adventurer would spread rumors to keep explorers away.

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Cookies…”

You: “Golden Cheese Cookie, I and everyone’s greed here would be to help you restore your kingdom again. If we work together, our combined greediness will see your kingdom revived and your citizens return! I promise that whatever you desire, me and the others will do our best to help.”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Y/N Cookie….my desire was to build a happy and flourishing kingdom without hardships, seeing my followers living happily and freely in my kingdom!”

Her words enter your mind when it was all over, seeing her citizens fade away. You will admit, a few tears were shed especially when the denizens specifically bid you and the group farewell. You weren’t going to give up on them, no matter what.

Golden Cheese Cookie: “I’ve always had a feeling about you, Y/N Cookie. After all this, I’m glad to have that feeling reinforced.”

You: “Hm? What do you mea-HUH!”

Golden Cheese Cookie suddenly brought you into a squeeze!

Golden Cheese Cookie: “That you mean so much to me, ha ha! At first, it was to see you shine just like my gold! I see now that you are much better than that! The Goddess of the Golden Cheese Kingdom shall join you! Let us fight together!”

C-could she let go first?!

White Lily Cookie

Listen to my voice, White Lily Cookie needs your help once again. She must wake up…

So that she may hear my voice once more..

Pure Vanilla Cookie…

Pure Vanilla Cookie!

———————————————————————

You shake your head, there was that voice again in his dreams. It was getting more common as you trekked with Pure Vanilla and the Gingerbrave group towards Beast-Yeast. Seeing you shake your head and clutching it at the land of Beast-Yeast growing closer, Pure Vanilla wanted to ensure that you were alright, he should be more worried for you then his dreams. You were nervous in his eyes about going here, but that was just because this was new territory for you, you’ll get used to this land eventually..right after this crash landing of the airship. That wasn’t going to be cheap to fix…

Following the path lead you all to some Light of Freedom fragments, and with that came memories of White Lily Cookie long ago in this land. Yeast spores, wanting to see the truth of how Cookies came be. If only she knew what such curiosity would lead her to doing. This other dream, White Lily helping Silverbell Cookie, a Faerie Cookie…and this Elder Faerie. Just who were these cookies?

Silverbell Cookie: “Who goes there! Outlanders, how did you find this place! What business do you have in Faeriewood?”

You: “Woah, hold on there! We mean no harm, we simply want to explore Beast-Yeast in pursuit of what Dark Enchantress Cookie is up to!

Silverbell Cookie: “H-huh? Was that…No! Shallow excuses hold no sway here! You are not welcome in our land!”

Wizard Cookie: “Well, we tried…”

You: “Hang on, Silverbell Cookie. What about White Lily Cookie? Did you let her into your kingdom a long time ago?”

Silverbell Cookie: “Y-you know my name and White Lily Cookie? Hold on, are you the friends of White Lily Cookie?”

It would be where you’d find yourself in the Faerie Kingdom after Silverbell Cookie led the way and with that, came White Lily Cookie resting in her bed, she..looked exactly as she was back in Crispia. As Pure Vanilla heads for the bed, you stop yourself. She’s known Pure Vanilla Cookie before all this, yet you’ve only met her through illusions and shadows. But…your interactions with her felt real, she had to recognize you!

Elder Faerie stood before you all, he saw you all as cookies who bear the fate of the Dessert World before him. He took note of you as a cookie who can bring together cookies and civilizations with a bright heart and an even brighter soul….something he hasn’t seen in a long time..and something he fears that the Five Beast Cookies will want to have for themselves.

These Beast Cookies…they haven’t sound like anything you’ve encountered before, it’s felt like a chill was creeping up your spine. As if he sensed your worry, Elder Faerie reassured you that your friends, along with himself, will make sure that the Beast Cookies cannot rise up again by keeping that seal contained, which only fueled the need to find the memory shards for White Lily Cookie.

You: “I know what you’re planning, Elder Faerie Cookie. You’re important too, would any Cookie’s life powder suffice? What if…I could-“

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Y/N Cookie, no!”

Gingerbrave: We aren’t letting you do that, Y/N Cookie!”

Elder Faerie Cookie: “Your friends are right, Y/N Cookie. I would have to agree as well, you’re important to others for them to see you give up your life. You’re important to her as well…”

You: “Elder Faerie Cookie…”

It was tough seeing Elder Faerie Cookie give up a majority of his life powder, but you saw movement within White Lily Cookie. Her eyes slowly open as she sits up from the bed.

White Lily Cookie: “Where…? Ah!”

Silverbell Cookie: “White Lily Cookie!”

You: “White Lily Cookie, are you alright?”

White Lily Cookie looked at her hands for a moment before slowly turning to look at you.

White Lily Cookie: “Y-Y/N Cookie….?

You: “You recognize me…?”

White Lily Cookie: “I-It’s you!”

She quickly went to hold you close, gripping your back tightly as she held you, wanting to take comfort that she could actually touch you now whereas she was unable to before.

White Lily wasn’t in high spirits for long, feeling like it was all her fault for causing Dark Enchantress Cookie to exist in this world, wanting time alone. You didn’t believe in that, you felt like she needed someone to talk to, the others agreed and suggested that you go to her, White Lily needed your company. You agreed after some hesitation, you decided to give it a go.

You felt like you’ve gotten a little closer with her after the talk, White Lily thought so too! You did ponder on if you would’ve really made an impact on her, that..she could’ve gone a different path if you were around.

But you had little time to hang onto that thought, for you and everyone had a visitor….

“Oooooooh! I see that those pesky little vine shackles that have held us captive for oh so, so, SO long are GONE! Eh heh…he he he he HE HE HE HE HE HE!”

It begins…

[rootedinrevisions]

Five More Minutes

SUMMARY: You and Jake are headed to The Hard Deck to meet the daggers, but a few things risk making you late.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I apologize that it's taken me a month to get it written. I hope it's worth the wait! I'm working to get requests done as I have time and the inspiration is flowing! Hope you enjoy! xx

WARNINGS: None, smut is implied but none actually happens.

WORD COUNT: 767

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

Jake sprawled on the edge of the bed, bouncing his knee impatiently as he watched you at the vanity. He glanced at his watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes before letting out a dramatic sigh. “Babe, come on,” he drawled, leaning back on his palms. “We’re gonna be late! We were supposed to be there by nine!”

“Five more minutes,” you called over your shoulder, carefully applying the last bit of mascara. Your voice was calm, but Jake could hear the teasing lilt in it, and he knew you weren’t in any rush.

“Five more minutes?” he repeated, raising a brow and letting out a soft laugh. “Sweetheart, you said that twenty minutes ago. You realize they’re all gonna roast me for this, right? Phoenix is gonna have a field day.”

“Phoenix already roasts you,” you shot back, swapping the mascara for your lipstick. “I’m just giving her more material to work with.”

Jake groaned, flopping back onto the bed in defeat. “I knew you’d be trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” he muttered, though his tone was light and full of affection.

“And yet, here you are two months later, and still with me” you replied, smirking as you caught his reflection in the mirror.

He propped himself up on his elbows, his green eyes narrowing as he watched you smooth a hand over your outfit. 

“Here I am,” he agreed, his smirk matching yours. “Sittin’ here, waitin’.”

“You wouldn’t be waiting if you hadn’t joined me in the shower,” you shot back, not even looking at him as you adjusted an earring in the mirror. Your knowing look in the reflection caught his eye, and Jake’s smirk widened into something that made your stomach flip. 

He sat up straighter, feigning innocence. “Now, I don’t recall you complainin’ about that,” he drawled, standing and taking slow, deliberate steps toward you.

You met him halfway, tilting your chin up as he closed the distance. “I wasn’t,” you admitted, your voice softening just a little. “But we both know that’s why we’re running late.”

“Not sure what you’re talkin’ about,” he murmured, feigning innocence as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips found the spot just below your ear, brushing against it in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You sighed, trying to maintain your composure as he trailed soft kisses along your neck. “Jake,” you warned, though your tone lacked conviction. “We’re already late.”

Jake pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk now bordering on devilish. “Five minutes,” he said, mimicking your earlier words as he leaned down again. “Hell, I only need two.”

You raised a brow, fighting the urge to smile. “Is that so? Pretty sure I remember you needing a lot more than two in the shower.”

“Let’s give ‘em a real reason to wonder why we’re late.” His mischievous grin returned, and he started tugging you toward the bed.

You raised a brow, laughing as you dug your heels into the floor to stop him. 

“What happened to you trying to rush me five minutes ago, huh?” you teased, your voice light and playful. “Weren’t you the one whining about how we’re gonna be late?”

Jake stopped, turning back to you with that signature cocky smirk you both loved and hated. “I realized I had my priorities all wrong,” he said, his tone smooth as honey. His hands slipped to your waist, pulling you closer. “A little late never hurt anybody. But missing the chance to keep you in my arms a little longer? Now that would be a crime.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip at his words despite yourself. “Wow, you’re really laying it on thick tonight,” you said, though the corners of your lips twitched upward. “But we’re still not skipping out just because you’ve got no self-control.”

Jake leaned in until his forehead rested against yours, his grin never wavering. “No self-control when it comes to you, sweetheart. Guilty as charged.”

“Okay, Casanova,” you said, gently patting his chest and stepping back. “Let’s get going before your squad decides to start placing bets on whether or not we’re ever showing up.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented with a chuckle. “Just know, sweetheart, that the second we get home, you’re mine.”

“And you’ll still only need a few minutes,” you quipped, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

“Keep talkin’ like that, darlin’,” Jake called after you, grabbing his jacket with a chuckle, “and we’ll see who’s beggin’ for more time later.”

[kooggukk]

epilogue - jjk

💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

word count: maybe 1k..

contains: argument, break up, jk is stubborn but got a point ngl..

myth - beach house

note: im hurting rn so ima make yall hurt too, xo

the rain poured in relentless sheets, wrapping the empty road in a suffocating shroud of cold. it had been days since your fight, but it felt like an eternity. you stood across from jungkook, your entire body trembling, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from the storm raging between you.

jungkook wasn’t the kind of man who raised his voice often. he was quiet, a fortress, built tall and unyielding by years of learning to survive on his own. growing up in a household where love came with conditions and apologies were unheard of, he learned to bury his feelings beneath stubborn silence. to him, love had always been a fragile thing — beautiful but fleeting, easily shattered if he didn’t protect it.

you, on the other hand, wore your heart on your sleeve. you grew up believing that love was something you fought for, something worth breaking yourself open to hold onto. your parents had shown you that fights didn’t mean endings — they meant growth. but jungkook wasn’t like your parents. he didn’t fight. he fled. and it had always been this way.

your fights were rare, but when they happened, they were devastating. jungkook’s instinct was always to retreat, to withdraw into himself, leaving you to desperately try to climb the walls he put up. this fight had been no different.

it started over something small, like most of your arguments did. he had canceled on your dinner plans for the third time in a month. “i’m just tired,” he’d said over the phone, his voice detached. but you knew better. you knew the distance between you wasn’t just physical. it was emotional, growing like a chasm you couldn’t bridge.

“why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” you had demanded, your voice shaking with frustration. “why do you always shut me out?”

“i’m not shutting you out, ___,” he had replied, his tone clipped. “not everything needs to be a conversation.”

that had been the spark, and the fire had spread quickly. accusations were hurled, old wounds reopened. you accused him of running away from your problems, and he accused you of always needing to fix things that didn’t need fixing. he’d hung up on you, and since then, every call and text you sent had gone unanswered.

now, here you were, standing in the middle of a storm, the distance between you feeling insurmountable despite being only a few feet apart.

“say something, jungkook,” you pleaded, your voice trembling as tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks. “please. don’t just stand there.”

his head hung low, his hair plastered to his face, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. he looked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. finally, he raised his head, his eyes meeting yours, filled with so much pain it made your breath hitch.

“what do you want me to say, ___?” he said, his voice low and raw. “that i’m sorry? that i regret everything? because i do. but it doesn’t change anything.”

“of course it changes everything!” you shot back, stepping closer, your fists clenched. “we can fix this. we always fix this.”

jungkook shook his head, his jaw tightening. “not this time,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “not this time, ___.”

“why not?” you demanded, your voice rising. “why can’t we fix this? tell me, jungkook. give me one good reason.”

he hesitated, his eyes flickering with hesitation before he looked away. “because i’m tired,” he finally admitted, his voice cracking. “i’m tired of fighting. i’m tired of hurting you. i’m tired of being the person who always drags you down.”

“you don’t drag me down,” you said, your voice trembling as you stepped closer, your heart breaking with every word he spoke. “you lift me up. even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. you’re everything to me, jungkook.”

“and you’re everything to me,” he said, his voice barely audible over the rain. “that’s why i have to let you go.”

your breath caught, the pain of his words cutting through you like a knife. “no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you don’t mean that. you can’t mean that.”

“i do,” he said, his voice breaking. “because i don’t know how to love you without ruining you. i don’t know how to stop myself from pushing you away when things get hard. and you shouldn’t have to keep breaking yourself to hold us together.”

you reached for him then, grabbing the front of his shirt, your tears falling freely. “you’re not ruining me, jungkook. you’re not breaking me. but you are breaking us. stop this. stop running away.”

“i can’t,” he whispered, his hands covering yours for a brief moment before he gently pulled them away. “because if i stay, i’ll only hurt you more. and i can’t live with that.”

your knees felt weak, your body trembling as you watched him step back. “jungkook, please,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “don’t do this. don’t walk away.”

he hesitated for a moment, his entire body shaking as he looked at you, his eyes filled with tears. “i’ll love you forever, ___,” he said, his voice trembling. “but sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

and then, he turned and walked away.

you stood frozen in the rain, your arms wrapped around yourself as his figure disappeared into the darkness. you wanted to chase after him, to scream, to beg him to come back. but you didn’t. because deep down, you knew this wasn’t just a fight. this was the end.

the storm began to die down, the rain slowing to a drizzle, but the ache in your chest didn’t fade. and as you stood there, alone under the flickering streetlamp, you realized that some people aren’t meant to stay in your life, no matter how much you love them. sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go.

[feng-shui71]

Hey there ol buddy ol pal. LOVING your Wesker OC x canon. Adoring it even. I kick my feet for every new post about them I see.

I'm DYING to know what happened to Jordan after Wesker's death in RE5, or if you believe Wesker made it out alive and picked her up covered in lava a week later.

AHHH THANK YOU OF COURSE small warning it’s extremely long, it covers the end of Re5 as well. I added drawings at the end, skip to those if you’re not willing to read this entire ramble I went on ^^ work is under the cut as usual. Not proofread:

Okay so first of all right after Re5 she’s devastated. She’s on the helicopter cradling her head in her hands as everyone else is relieved that Wesker is finally dead. She knows he deserves it, she knows it’s just years worth of built up karma coming back to bite him in the ass, she should be happy. Wesker is an evil, evil man, she really shouldn’t be in love with him after everything, hell, he’s even hurt her, both unintentionally or not. But despite this, despite everything, she does, she always did and god it hurts like a bitch. It feels like the aftermath of Arklay all over again, except this time he’s gone, for real this time. She will never help him up in the morning, raking her fingers through his blond locks, styling it into pristine slicked back pompadour. She will never hear his smooth crooning voice that always managed to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She’s left heartbroken once more, without her husband, and her children, without a father.

The ride back is extremely tense. Chris and Jordan refuse to speak to eachother, resentment between the two parties forbidding them to do so. They’re both relieved, don’t get me wrong, they’re best friends, however they’re both pissed. Chris feels betrayed, Jordan had been presumed dead since before the Spencer Mansion Incident, but low and behold she’d been alive this whole time?? with HIM?? he knew she acted a bit too eager to hunt him down. The B.S.A.A. shouldn’t have sent her. To top it off, the fact she hadn’t even tried to help Jill? try to get ahold of him? anyone? It made him mad just thinking about it. Jordan on the other hand, is going through a whirlwind of emotions right now. She’s enraged at Chris, hell, he just killed her husband, however guilt, guilt is really what’s gnawing at her brain right now, especially since she’s trapped in a chopper for however long while everyone inside of it is beyond pissed at her. The first thing she does is apologize profusely to Jill, whom the other accepts very reluctantly, probably only because Jordan would talk to her P30 puppet every so often. When you’re alone almost 24/7 missing your friends and family it’d only be natural to try to talk to one of them since they’re in the vicinity, albeit a hollow shell of them.

Half of these conversations were tear-filled apologies, choked sobs as Jordan held Jill’s cold face, wishing she could do something about it. Other times Jordan would sit down and try to talk to her, catch her up on how her day was going, try to see if she could pull the old Jill out of her, conversations about S.T.A.R.S. and such were common here. Going over memories of a past life. Jill doesn’t blame Jordan for it, hell, the memory is foggy, but the first time Wesker had brought Jill into that wretched facility the two had gotten into a huge fight over it, the woman exclaiming how this was unacceptable and cruel, there is a line with Wesker’s plans that she’s willing to put up with, however Jill’s enslavement is one of them. The entire eugenics project itself had already put him on thin ice. Every single argument over Jill after that, Jordan’s arms were laced with bruises and things of that sort, Wesker by all means never hit her physically, however his iron grasp sure did leave a mark. Jill shivers at the memory upon recollection.

Overall Jordan is a complete mess, her last few years had been .. pretty horrible to say the least but at the very least she always had her Albert there with her. Adjusting to life after him is extremely hard for her as Wesker manipulated her into codependency, she falls back into her self destructive habits that she’d long since weened off after her initial reunion with Wesker. Excessive smoking, whether it be weed or a pack of Marlboro blues, a lot of her time is spent out on the porch chainsmoking. This habit extends to alcohol as well, hard hitters such as Tequila or Whiskey. Hangovers are now a common occurance as she rots in her bed, sometimes waking up with her hand reaching over on the other side, only for it to be cold and empty. Barry and Jaiden try their best to visit, try to get her out the house to break her isolation. Jaiden spends days on end sleeping over just to keep his sister company, sometimes he feels like he failed her, he should’ve been there for her more. It puts a horrible taste in his mouth to see his once very charismatic and extroverted sister become so.. broken, her light dimmed from everything that has happened to her. Jordan has a headstone made for Wesker and buries an empty casket in his bodys place, just to keep his memory alive. Every weekend she picks up his favourites: a bottle of Pinot Noir, Jack Daniels and some primroses from the local flowershop down the street. She sits against it , adorning the resting place with the flowers and alcohol, and just talks about her day, as if he’s still there. Over time she starts to feel better, starts to move on and reconnect with her loved ones again, reconnect with Chris and Jill. However this weekly visit is the only thing from her mourning period that carries over. She loves him, she really does.

That’s what like .. mainly happens if we’re sticking to the canon, where he’s actually y’neow, fucking dead. However let’s say he isn’t:

A few weeks after the events of Re5, Wesker shows up to her humble abode covered in ash and igneous rock. He’s injured all over and honestly not doing too good, every move of his muscles is excruciating and lacerations cover his body from head to toe. Jordan is extremely shocked and relieved to see him, yet harbors feelings of anger. Like, yeah you deserved that you idiot, what were you thinking? despite this, her love towards him makes her stay, helping to rehabilitate him. Wesker however, is kinda pissed and also! extremely humiliated. His plans are foiled once again by that fucking Redfield and to top it all off, he’s being nursed back to health as if he were a kicked puppy. I like to think during all of this, Wesker learns some emotional maturity, everything starts to click for him. For once in his life he actually starts to feel .. guilt, he feels sorry, time after time he’d put Jordan through hell, yet here she was, with him. It really makes him stop and reflect. He starts to atone for his sins, trying his best to treat Jordan better, whether it be biting his tongue to not say some ill-mannered quip or just surprising her with her favourite flowers; hydrangeas and roses. I like to think after Re5 if Wesker survives they live a simple domestic life, no more grandiose plans or fighting bioterrorism for either of them. Being with each other is enough.

Oh also Wesker still probably has control of Uroboros, I think he uses it to do things when he’s too lazy, like grabbing the remote when he’s couch-locked. When they’re sleeping they wrap around her without him realizing. Jordan gave each and every tendril a name also, one of them is named Paul. Paul is her favourite.

doodles:

[magiclwritings]

“Kind of assholes?” Cass mused playfully and found himself pressing closer into Oliver. The weight of the little boy fitting snuggly against him and he’d found himself more at ease the longer he allowed himself to have this moment. Because things like this were rare, as he’d come to know from his time when he was little. He gently moved his finger tips over the child’s cheek and soothed not only the boy, but himself as well. Because the question Oliver had posed wasn’t as simple as it had seemed to roll off his tongue. His upbringing was what most Pureblood families had continued through the centuries and eons of time doing. And that was to instill fear that if the line of their name did not pass then they were all failures. Little did his parents know that when they’d conceived him and a few years later, dumped him in with his great- grandfather, did they know they’d be ending that line all together. He’d made up his mind and upon meeting Apollo, he’d been convinced of his thoughts. 

But still he sat, knowing Oliver was just about out of patience for an answer. “When I think of the future,” he started, looking over at him just in total awe. “I think it is you and I.” He smiled so brightly he could barely help it. Nd maybe he didn’t want to for once. “And maybe a little one or two when we’re ready.” Because he wanted to make absolutely sure that neither of them would ever bring a child in to the world just leave them feeling as he or even Oliver had felt then. He understood that life was not always predictable but he’d like to think the both of them could agree and understand that of one another. “I meant what I said but I also don’t want to lose us just to have a family.” Oliver was important to Cass he would never put in to words. And that was his own fault. But Oliver knew, Cass had always made sure to leave the man cuddled so close, in complete and utter understanding that his life and his love were always and only ever Oliver’s. 

Cass shifted his weight around, jostling the child into a more comfortable position for all of them. His soft breath panted against Cass’ shoulder now and found himself humming softly for just a moment. “I know we haven’t spoken much about it yet but that’s what I’d like.” His lips drew a lazy smile and he’d bent in to kiss Oliver just so softly. “As long as you’re in it then I have no other desire but that and I’d be happy.”

________________

The hard knot that had formed in his gut was not at all unforseen. If anything it made him feel infinitely worse that it was playing out exactly as intended. Apollo was like putty in his hand and he hated himself for it. But wasn’t this what you wanted? He’d sworn he’d never use his influence to his advantage but wasn’t keeping him here worth it? If for no other reason than the boy needed both of them. They had to figure this out and it was impossible if they were fighting and separated. Isaac was not going to deny him what he was asking but perhaps there could be a way to skirt it for later. While a part of him was thrilled at the idea of completely owning Apollo to where everyone could hear. Petty bitch. 

Isaac slid his knee on the bed and moved the other on the outside of Apollo’s hip. His weight settling upon his thigh and he instantly found himself right at home with the man beneath him. “We ha’e all the time I’ the world.” He mused, ducking in to kiss this man with a vigor that felt so natural he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. His soft curls brushed both of their brows and the soft smack of their lips filled his ears. They made a music that truly was something for just the two of them. Their lips parted and Isaac tasted this man. Syrup and a faint taste of tobacco filled his senses which made it all the more difficult to finally break away from him because, as much as he hated it, they still had something to take care of. 

Isaac sat back and placed his hands gently on Apollo’s chest, tracing simple shapes as he did so. “I will be betta ‘bou’ thin’s.” And that was the truth, he didn’t promise to be perfect or that it would be instant but after feeling the small jolt he had when he was with Cassio and Oliver, he felt a fraction differently. He couldn’t explain why or how but something felt a little less wrong. “I promise.” Their eyes finally locked and Isaac couldn’t help the dreamy smile on his face, his hands had snaked back under his shirt and the warmth of his skin loosened Isaac’s hold on himself. It’d been a moment since he’d got him like this. Granted it was under false pretenses but seeing him a little unburdened, even from under his influence, it was nice. 

“We can’ hide up here much longer.” He cooed gently, the feeling of regret lightening in his chest at how they’d ended up. Isaac found himself bending back on to kiss each corner of the other’s mouth and he sighed so softly. It was another moment and their lips found each other again. He couldn’t help himself. Perhaps it was the fear of the unknown and the fight. Maybe he’d influenced himself. It had been a while since he’d used any sort of magic in that way too. Merlin knew what was going on with him but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. “Unless ya thin’ ya can be quick.” He teased, tugging the others lower lip out before letting it bounce back into its normal shape. The dare dangling between them and he felt electric.

“Apollo?” A voice called out from the earpiece of his phone. “Are you there?” His first instinct was to fight the arms against him. He was hurt, and Isaac knew it, but Apollo had always been touch-starved and could already feel the anger leaking out of his bones. “I’m here,” He said, leaning back against Isaac’s chest. He closed his eyes and sucked in an audible breath before continuing, “I’m getting a shipment at work tomorrow, and I can’t be there.” He cleared his throat. Isaac’s fingers pressed into his bare skin, leaving a fire trail in their wake. “Can you stop by and sign for me?” After her confirmation and ignoring her questions about what he was busy with, Apollo hung up the phone. 

He tucked his phone back into his pocket, his body erupting into goosebumps as Isaac’s lips pressed against his skin. Apollo turned to face him, careful not to break Isaac’s hold on him. He knew he should still be upset that he was upset for a valid reason, but Apollo found he was too exhausted to hold onto that anger any longer. “I won’t go,” He said softly, leaning forward to press his forehead against Isaac’s. “I’ll stay.”Apollo wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, pressing his body closer to Isaac’s warmth, craving it in ways he had thought impossible. Still, Isaac always had the power to make Apollo long for more. 

“But,” He said after a quiet moment, “You have to work out your shit with Cassio.” Apollo tangled his fingers through Isaac’s curls, tilting the man’s face down to look at him. “Because I won’t choose between you two. I can’t. If it comes down to that, I will walk away from both of you.” He wouldn’t, couldn’t, because that would probably kill Apollo, but it was the best threat he had in his back pocket, but Isaac was never one to call him out of his bluffs. He knew just how stubborn the man could be. “Don’t make me do that.” 

Apollo leaned forward, nudging his nose against Isaac’s, and kissed the man softly, reassuringly. He had spent years kissing Isaac at this point, but this time, it sent tingles down his spine. It felt like kissing him for the first time in that maze back at university. Apollo moaned softly, deepening their kiss, his grip on Isaac’s hair tightening, tugging gently. He felt warm and couldn’t stop pulling Isaac towards the bed. He knew, vaguely in the back of his mind, that Cassio and Oliver were downstairs with the kid, but everything inside of him was telling him they would wait. “Isaac,” Apollo said his name gently after breaking away from their kiss, the back of his knees hitting the bed, and Apollo’s body came down on top of it next. His body felt feverish, or maybe because this was his favorite part post-fight, the making-up bit. “Come here,” Apollo all but purred. He took his fingers through the loop of his boyfriend’s pants, tugging him forward until he was nestled in between Apollo’s legs. “We have time, come here.”

________________

“Hey, so,” Oliver said, turning his head up to look at Cassio. After Isaac had left to go makeup with Apollo, he snuggled under the blond’s arm, leaning into his side. It had been almost ten minutes of silence from upstairs, and to be fair, Oliver had expected them to be back down by now. It only took a glance from Theodore, seeing Oliver and Cassio cuddling, before the toddler abandoned his toys and approached them. His head rested on Cass’ thigh, and he was fighting the lull of sleep. “What you said earlier?” Oliver tilted his head back onto Cassio’s shoulder, soothingly moving his fingers through Theodore’s hair. It was wild how he had only known the boy for an hour, and it already felt like he had known him his entire life. It wasn’t saying much because Oliver typically loved everyone within ten minutes of meeting them, but he was fond of the little guy. Sure, it was weird that he remembered events he wasn’t present for, but he was just a kid. How bad could the real story be? 

“Is that something you want, you know, in the future?” he asked. The kids with me part remained unspoken, but Oliver figured Cassio would catch his drift. “I’ve always been kind of torn. Coming from a huge family like mine was always overwhelming and sucked sometimes. But on the other hand, I have a massive support system when I need it, and even though my brothers are kind of assholes, they do tend to always pull through for me, and I don’t know who I would be without them. I-” He paused, looking back at Cassio to judge his reaction. “I mean, I don’t want as many kids as my parents had, but I think two would be nice. They’ll always have each other that way. What, um, do you think when you think about the future?”

[dionte-goethe]

I was inspired by that one scene in "more than anything" from Hazbin Hotel. Just thinking about the way Jiang Cheng had to face these sect leaders with a destroyed sect, no alliances (until Yanli married and even then...), and the fallout of Wei Wuxian's actions. He just doesn't want Jin Ling to have to deal with all the terrible things he had to deal with as a young sect leader, he's tried to protect him from all that, when JL wants him to step back because JC could tear himself apart protecting JL...

[livvyofthelake]

YOU CAME HERE FOR RAVKA. I CAME HERE FOR YOU. YOU ARE MY FLAG ALINA. YOU’RE MY NATION. NOT THIS SWAMP.

THIS SWAMP IS WORTH SAVING……

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji cannot wait to break in his virgin girlfriend—though until then, he’ll settle for simply teasing you until you’re a trembling mess.

tags. toji fushiguro x virgin!female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). corruption kink. dry humping? cum play. size difference. reader gets called ‘princess, doll’ queued

toji loves to tease you—you know that very well. he thrives off your reactions to his dirty words, the subtle yet naughty touches that he sneaks in during conversations, the seductive glint in his half lidded eyes whenever you’re around . . he knows what he’s doing.

even more so when you’re in his bed at night. you usually cuddle, sometimes make out and grind against each other, but nothing too lewd yet. toji doesn’t mind waiting to get a taste of you. he knows it will be worth the wait at the end.

but oh—is it difficult. so, so difficult. especially when you allow him access to more parts of your body.

“shit, princess,” he pants, hissing a bit when the mushroom tip of his cock bumps against your clothed clit, “y’re gettin’ so wet, huh? just by looking at my cock ‘n feeling it rub against your pussy.”

your cotton panties surely are damp with arousal; from both toji and you. his pre-cum mixes with your juices, ruining your favorite pair of panties. the wet spot forming near your slit only gets darker and darker the more you allow toji to rub his dick back and forth over your cunt.

“mngh—fuck. need you,” you whine, unable to fight the urge to buck your hips against his fat cock. your eyes dart up to your boyfriend to express your neediness, but he grabs your nape and guides your gaze back to his red tip pushing against your sloppy underwear.

toji lets out a dry chuckle. “i know y’ do. y’r pussy told me that long time ago,” he comments while he watches your adorable reactions to him pushing and pulling his cock from your clothed pussy. he’s only interested in you—the way your eyes glisten with tears and pleasure.

if it isn’t for his self control, he would have fucked you by now. but he’ll patiently wait until the perfect timing to push through that invisible wall, to pop your cherry while he looks you in the eyes, taking that innocence from you that he oh-so loves.

“want my cock, doll?” toji asks with a wicked grin. his large hands runs over your chest to your tummy. he guides his shaft over to your belly, measuring how much of your insides it would fill. “mm, yeah—would mess you up pretty bad,” he hums as the tip reaches your belly button. even further than that.

the thought excites the older man. to be your first, the first man who’ll mould your pussy to only fit his cock. no one else will have the honor of stripping you from your virginity.

“want it. want it all the way inside me,” you reply back, voice shaking with excitement. you’re going to cum soon from him simply grinding against your clothed cunt. your poor clit is continuously being circled and bumped against by his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

toji swallows thickly. “don’t ya tempt me like that,” he warns you in a dark tone. he runs a rough finger over your wet panties, keeping your legs spread wide with his knees. he easily finds your little hole as the cotton material sticks to your pussy, showing the outlines of your lips.

“might just push in here. .” toji murmurs as he positions the leaking head of his dick against your covered entrance, “. . and fill you up while hearing you scream my name. sounds good, ay?”

you gasp and feel your cunt clench around nothing. his hips move back and forth, shallow thrusts against the barrier that is your panties, mimicking the real thing. “y-yeah—oh, ‘m g’nna cum,” your heart rate picks up as your back arches off the mattress.

toji raises an eyebrow, secretly finding it endearing how that is the action that pushes you over the edge. you’re so adorable; simply thinking of him actually fucking you senseless and the feeling of his tip seeking your pussy is enough.

“aww, she’s gonna cum,” the dark-haired man snickers after mocking you. toji gauges your reactions and grins when he sees your head rolling back against the pillow.

“do y’ wanna cum together? we can,” he smirks as he leans down to intertwine your hands—playing the role of the gentle boyfriend who’s having sex with his girlfriend for the first time. he’s trying to give you the full experience while not actually giving it to you yet.

“y-yes, wanna cum together,” you nod mindlessly, your mouth feeling dry. you squeeze your eyes shut while also holding tightly onto toji’s hand. your pussy tightens up around air while your hips buck up to meet toji’s thrusts against your covered, wet hole.

“c-close—ngh, toji!” your eyes widen once his tip pressing snugly between your pussy lips. for a second it felt like his cock had successfully breached through your panties. that short-lived moment is enough to push you over the edge and cum on spot.

toji witnesses the bliss in your facial expression and he groans. “fuckkk—take it. g’nna cum all over ya princess,” he presses his hips firmly against yours, his full length resting right between your wet folds, ropes of cum spurting out of his aching tip.

you feel the sticky liquid stain your belly, running down to the waistband of your panties and even staining the front part. your choked up moans are music to your boyfriend’s ears while he calms down from his own orgasm.

his big biceps tremble as he holds himself up above you, grinning from ear to ear. “keheh, made a mess out of you,” toji’s voice is filled with pride. he lets you cling onto him for as long as you need to.

his eyes dart down to the sticky mess on your tummy and panties. the older man leans back on his knees to admire the view. he really couldn’t wait to actually slide inside of your tight cunt—but this will suffice for now. the sight of his cute girlfriend trembling and whimpering beneath him makes up for everything.

his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. “can i look, doll?” toji asks in a gruff voice, desparate to see your glistening cunt. you weakly nod and he doesn’t waste any more time.

the sight greeting him when he pulls your underwear down is nearly enough to make him cum again. your juices are everywhere, multiple strings of wetness connecting your pussy to your panties. they snap one after the other as your panties are slowly removed.

“oh, y’re such a messy girl,” toji sighs, leaning down to kiss your tummy, licking up some of his own cum. you shiver and your hands dart out to hold onto his black hair. he chuckles at the gesture, humming in acknowledgement.

his eyes darken when he catches a glimpse of your sopping pussy again. he’s so close to it — so extremely close. his gaze darts over to a drop of his cum that threatens to slide down and over your clit. the heat and smell of your cunt is driving that man to the brink of insanity.

toji lolls his tongue out, eyes glistening with desire while he pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, big hands holding onto your hips. drool gathers in the corners of his mouth as his face hovers right between your legs;

“mind if i have a taste of you, princess? jus’ a quick one, i promise.”

[bluebelly-sun-serpentine]

Tim Walz and his wife don’t own a single stock. Their only investment is in their state pensions. He supports safer gun legislation. He supports meaningful housing reform (namely policies that make building housing - the only thing that will solve this crisis - easier). He supported queer youth in an era where support was even more difficult to come by than it is now, and he still does. He has a pittbull lab mix named Scout. He regularly asks his daughter what’s important to her and what her peers are saying on Tik Tok. He supports abortion access. He was a geographer and a teacher and only entered politics because he got so mad that one of his class field trips to a political rally was cut short by a republican staffer who denied them entry because of a student’s John Kerry pin.

He was also developed in a lab specifically for the purpose of appealing to as many white Americans as possible. He grew up on a farm in Nebraska in a community of ~400 people. He joined the Army National Guard at 17. He coached football, taking a losing team to the state championships. He hunts. He goes to the state fair every year. He uses diet mountain dew as a sobriety aid.

This was a smart pick from Harris. It’s clear from their interactions at the rally that he’s there to support her rather than hog the spotlight, as I worried Shapiro would have done. They’re able to put forward this “happy warrior” campaign together because they have good chemistry and are young enough not to be falling asleep on the job. They’re both corny as hell. They might pull this off.

No ticket is ever going to be perfect. I have always been left of the ticket and I suspect I may always be, but this is a real step in the right direction, and there’s so much more energy in this campaign. I’m feeling so much more hopeful than I was a couple months ago.

Make sure you’re registered to vote (voting rolls have been purged in places all over the country. I myself had to re-register recently, and will be checking regularly). Make sure you know what’s happening downballot in your district, because those races and initiatives are vitally important, too. Support local politicians doing excellent work.

For instance, these may be the people responsible for making new bike lanes, transit options, and housing developments possible. Where I live one of these (young, awesome) politicians was recently run out of office by insane nimby whiners sending death threats to his family. I wonder if he’d been able to stick it out if more people were paying attention and vocally supporting him. National-stage MAGA politicians are not the only people fighting to make our lives harder, so it’s worth figuring out who’s fighting against the wine-and-property class hoarding all the quality of life in your town. Find out who’s fighting to shut down your library and who’s telling that person “over my dead body.” Then go to the polls armed with that knowledge.

[risuola]

ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

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

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

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

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, minor wounds, shackles, mental deterioration

♡ GN reader

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at you sheepishly from where he kneels before you, your feet in his lap as he carefully unclasps the second metal cuff from your ankle—leaving roughed skin in its wake, cut raw and swollen as badly as the other. “But, you know, I would have taken them off sooner if you’d been good.”

You don't answer him—not feeling like nodding and agreeing, though not exactly feeling up to doing the opposite anymore either. Tired of it, you remain quiet, and you look away instead—flinching and hissing as he carefully handles the wounds with disinfectant, balm, and bandages.

When he’s done, he rests his cheek on your knee—stroking his hands up and down your claves tenderly. “I really am sorry,” he repeats—voice soft and silken, nuzzling into you with big puppy eyes looking up at you. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

There’s a disturbance in your head—an indecision—toiling and swirling like a storm, making you sweat, almost shiver. Should you behave for once? Do what he wants and avoid another punishment—or do you still feel like fighting? Is your dignity worth it? Do you still wish to take the risk and run now that you’re unfettered and free to try again? Or would you like to finally give it up?

This is a test. You know it. No doubt.

He’ll surely catch you if you try. You know that, too. It’s been proven, and you’re not foolish enough to keep holding onto any such false thing as hope.

So then, why try?

Well, it’s a stupid question, and yet you find yourself contemplating it—whether you should try anyway, even when failure is guaranteed. You think, now that you're really thinking about it, the only thing keeping you going is sheer and hollow principle.

Yes, principle—one based on the understanding that if you try, even if you fail, you can at least say you tried—one where the simple thought of giving is detestable. Back then, even weighing the options was unthinkable. Do or die—no in-between, nothing more or less.

But that fire within feels faint now—a low flame just barely weathering the storm, all alone in the cold, in the dark, just waiting for a final gust to blow it out once and for all.

It's an ugly thought, but you think what you really want isn't to find the strength to keep fighting but for someone to say it's okay to stop. You just want a sanction—a blessing—someone to blow the candle out for you.

And acknowledging that, you might as well blow it out yourself.

If the point holds no value, then fighting for it must be even more empty—right?

You sigh.

“It’s not that bad." Lifting a hand, you run it smoothly through his tousled locks with a smile. “Actually, it already feels better.”

The worst or best part about it is how strangely freeing it is—now that you’ve let go. The trouble of remaining vigilant and hostile is an exhausting feat, and now that you’ve put it to rest, you’re left feeling unfettered—like you can finally breathe again.

He kisses your knee, then rests his chin atop it—giving you a similar smile. “I’m glad.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[indecisivemuch]

Scandalous

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: The reveal of a scandalous detail about yours and Luke's relationship left you both flustered and everybody else gaping. Inspired by one line from So It Goes - Taylor Swift (fluff, established relationship).

Warning: allusions to sex, but no explicit details.

Word count: 2k

You and Luke have been going out for well over a year now. Yet, he never failed to make you feel like it would be an eternal honeymoon phase: whispers of sweet words about a lifetime’s worth of promises, delicate and sacred touches, looks filling in for unspoken words.

Loving Luke was as easy as having a daily routine - so natural and almost like a grounding thing from the life of a Demigod.

Currently, Luke was training with Percy. You were not too far away either, sparring with Clarisse. Despite the area being occupied by many other Demigods engaging in similar activities, Luke could not help but frequently glance over at you.

Luke has always been mesmerized by the way you combat, which he metaphorically compared to a ballerina. So precise, yet deadly. Every move was with intention and purpose. 

The way sweat glided down the side of your face, your cheeks flushed from fighting, eyes darting with strategy, heavy pants in between dodging and attacking your opponent, the smirk hinted on your face - all of it made Luke’s mind grow flustered. Somehow, he found everything you do attractive.

If he was honest, his mind seemed to be doing nothing lately but think of you, especially when you’re not beside him. The memories he has harvested over your time together only transformed his brain into a cinema, which constantly played montages of you. Every morning, he’d wake up from a dream about you to the sight of you in his arms - that is before he had to sneak out of your cabin back to his. You constantly occupy every cell in his mind, like an uncontainable virus spreading. Yet, for some reason, he was not scared. He welcomed this feeling with his whole arms wide open.

You broke eye contact with Clarisse to look at Luke. Almost instantly, your eyes melted into ones filled with adoration and his own eyes mirrored the same emotions - if not tenfold. 

You were absolutely enamored with how Luke looked at you. Even before dating each other, people have mentioned the eyes he was giving you. But being oblivious, you did not see what they were talking about. However, it all became clear when you started dating. You started noticing how he would look at you like you were a rare artwork he would most likely never see again or a shooting star - a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence kind of thing that left him in awe all the time. He would do it so endearingly as if it would help to absorb every detail of you and imprint them into his memory. His looks have always made you feel loved - like you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if he has not told you this verbally and through actions already. Usually, you’d feel slightly insecure if somebody was staring so intensely at you, but he did it in a way that made you feel like your flaws were created to be loved for. 

However, a gasp escaped your lips as Luke was showered by a wave of the ocean. Everybody else also drew their attention to the head of Hermes’ cabin and the newly claimed Poseidon kid.

When Luke looked back at Percy, he was faced with a sheepish grin.

“I had to get your attention somehow. I tried calling your name like ten times already,” Percy shrugged his shoulder with feigned innocence, but the glint of mischief told Luke that the kid was anything but feeling guilty about soaking him from head to toe. 

“Percy,” Luke groaned as he could feel the fabric of his clothes cling to his body. Percy bashfully chuckled and offered another sheepish look to the counselor who was meant to train him. 

The cool water did offer a temporary fix to the boiling summer heat. But mixing that with sweat, combat, and Luke's long-sleeved shirt underneath was disastrous. The Hermes boy sighed as he slowly took off the bright orange camp shirt. After struggling slightly, he managed to pull the shirt off from over his head. However, the gray shirt he was wearing underneath got pulled up more than slightly from the extra friction between wet fabrics, revealing the majority of his back to Percy and others. 

He did not think much of it until gasps - including yours - could be heard as this happened. Chris even whistled as he and everybody else spotted what Luke did not notice.

“What?” Luke asked as he pulled down his gray shirt and started wringing his camp t-shirt, trying to rid it from being as wet as possible. 

“Damn, did you get mauled by a minotaur or something?” Percy asked. 

Almost immediately, Luke paled at Percy’s words as he realized what the kid was talking about.

Indeed, as Luke’s gray shirt underneath got pulled up, which revealed the majority of his back, this had also put on display the scratches down his back left from nights that he spent with you. Some were evidently old and healing, as seen by how Luke’s skin was patching itself up and matching closer to his skin tone. Others were somewhat freshly red, while a few were like wounds being reopened. To make matters worse, they could spot the occasional crescent shape bruises that were indentations of your nails. 

Considering your guys’ relationship was not a secret, there was no room to deny it if somebody pointed fingers at you. You blushed as people now averted their eyes to you as if this was the most scandalous thing all year. Clarisse and Chris, on the other hand, were both smirking. 

The whole camp knew you were the one who left those scratches there, and you sincerely wish you could dig a hole to hide yourself from all the attention right now.

Luke’s eyes darted to you, and you offered him an awkward smile as your face grew a darker shade of red.

“No, seriously, dude, you gotta get it checked out at the infirmary. How did that even happen?” Percy only continued, somehow actually clueless about the cause of those marks. You could see Annabeth sending Percy a somewhat side-eye from nearby at his words while Grover let out a deep sigh. 

You started approaching the two, hoping you could intervene and save the both of you from this situation.

“Uhm…well,” Luke started, unsure how to even answer the kid or divert the attention elsewhere as his cheeks flushed and ears tinted pink from trying to ignore memories of what you two had done the night before.

The Hermes boy has jokingly sweet-talked you before on how he might walk out shirtless after one of your rendezvous to show off the marks you left on him. Never would you two think that that idea would ever happen like this.

“Yeah, I reckon you should get that checked out,” you decided to say as you reached Luke, settling your hand on Luke’s lower back and greeting Percy. “Thank you for worrying about him.”

“Yeah, no problem. I mean, it must have been quite a minotaur to land that much of a number on him,” Percy somehow carried on and was utterly oblivious to Clarisse and Chris, who almost bursted out laughing at his latest comment. You, on the other hand, squinted your eyes at the kid. You turned to Luke and you could see it in his eyes that the boy was on the verge of laughing as well. You were sure he would have done so if it were not for your glare.

“Well, we best go heal those wounds now, right Luke?” you gave your boyfriend a look, hoping he would get the message to play along.

“Right,” he agreed almost instantly. 

“Alright, bye, Percy,” you hastily spoke, before dragging Luke by his hand away from everybody's eyes.

“Bye guys,” you could hear the kid’s voice as the both of you retreated. It felt like a walk of shame as the semi-crowd parted ways for you two to leave the scene. You immediately let out a deep breath as soon as nobody was near anymore.

“Gods, that was so embarrassing. The kid basically repeatedly called me a minotaur.”

“I mean…you can be my minotaur?” Luke cheekily jested, trying to tease you a bit more over the situation.

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re not making that a thing. No, absolutely not are you ever gonna make that a nickname,” Luke only laughed at your reaction before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into a hug. As he did so, you wrapped both your arms around his waist, face colliding with his chest the way it would usually do when you guys cuddle. He gave you a few peppered kisses on your forehead, close to your hairline. 

“They’re never gonna let us live that down, will they?” You asked after letting out a muffled groan against his chest.

“Nope,” Luke admitted. Despite the Hermes boy usually easing away your worries, even he knew this would be the talk around camp for a while. Nevertheless, he unwrapped his arms around you and cupped your face with both hands. Using his callus-filled hands, yet gentle touch, he soothed your furrowed eyebrows by rubbing over them to urge you from scowling.

“But…you know what? I’m kind of glad this happened. Sure, it might be awkward and a tad bit embarrassing. But now, they finally get to see how lucky I am to have been given a chance by such a gorgeous and sweet Demigod. And…” he paused, giving you a quick kiss. “This way, any guy potentially still after you know to keep their hands off.” He cheekily winked at you after saying so. 

Gods, you remember how jealous Luke would get before you were together. It was lowkey hot to see him so riled up. Though, after the both of you got together, you have always reassured him that you had eyes on him and only him. 

“I guess that also means any girls still thinking they could steal you from me would know they have no chance?” you questioned, smiling ear to ear when he nodded eagerly at your words.

“Exactly. That’s a win-win in my book. I’m not embarrassed they saw what you left on me. They could talk for all I care. So stop worrying, or else you’ll start getting wrinkles,” he lightly flicked the area between your furrowed eyebrows. As you were about to complain, he quickly kissed you right where he previously flicked you, and that immediately melted away any bit of feigned irritation you had with him. He chuckled at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows untangling itself.

“Thank you,” you muttered, showing your gratitude towards Luke. 

If Luke had a superpower, it would probably be calming you down. He has always managed to tame your emotions whenever they were drowning you. He was like an anchor to you, always grounded you during chaotic times. Sometimes, you wonder how you got so lucky. 

You peered up at him sweetly, and the look alone made him lean down to capture your lips with his again. You chuckled at his action and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was leaving on your lips. Your hands started playing with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He let out a content sigh while still showing your lips just how much he loved them and you. However, he abruptly pulled away before dropping a question. 

“Are we really going to the infirmary?” Luke hesitantly asked, bringing up your words from earlier. He watched as you gave him an amused look.

“What did you think?” As soon as his eyes met yours, he knew exactly what you wanted. He gave you a sheepish grin before the two of you quietly giggled to each other before walking further away from the training grounds.

Let's just say you two did not follow through with your words of going to the infirmary, and neither were you tending to his “wounds”.

——————————

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[ceilidho]

I’ve been watching Spartacus with my dad and I must share with you the vision I had.

Gladiator 141 and the sweet little thing they got as a reward after a fight well fought.

this is very old:

Sometimes he spends as much as an hour staring at you through the bars of your cell. 

You haven’t yet worked up the nerve to say something to him. Not while he still wears the silver-plated galea that obscures most of his face. You can still see thin lips through the middle slit of his helmet, where the cheek plates don’t meet and the thin strip running down the bridge of his nose gives way to his philtrum, and the barest slivers of dark eyes. 

Apart from his helmet, he wears little else—sometimes the customary leather pteruge around his waist or a simple tunic belted at the waist. Nothing that would hinder his movements. It keeps the bulk of him on display. A prized fighter then, you surmise, as if the helmet weren’t enough to make that known. 

He still gleams bronze from his fights under the sun. Perhaps he’s counted at least a full hand’s worth this week alone. He comes to you sometimes after those very fights, still dripping sweat and prowling the length of your cell like one of the lions kept beneath the arena. You never know what to say to him then. There’s little you can do apart from curl up into yourself in the far corner of this cell you’ve come to know as a temporary home and eye him warily. 

It’s hard to reckon with the size of him. That’s what keeps you wary, watchful of him when he comes to keep you company for reasons unbeknownst to you. He hasn’t made them known yet, in any case. 

There isn’t an augur to warn you the day he chooses to speak. 

“Where'd they take you from, pretty bird?”

You flinch at the sound of his voice. It comes from the pure depths of him, Tartarus deep. You think it would take nine days for it to reach you, like a bronze anvil falling alongside it. In the days that he’s spent at your side, haunting the length of your cell like a sentry bound to his post, you’ve never once heard so much as a whisper.

His words take a moment to register. Across from you, he sits back on his haunches, thick thighs bunched up under the fan of his pteruge. It’s hard to tell how long he’s been there—the hallway outside your cell is relatively dark, the only windows being on the leftmost side of the building, near the door where he must have quietly slipped in. 

“East of here,” you answer hesitantly.

He hums, nods his head. Ruminates on your words. 

In truth, you can only guess—the village where you grew up, where you suckled at your mother’s teat and played with the other children in the glen surrounded by mountains jutting up from the earth and ochre yellow and green wildgrass, the fog sometimes sitting so low in the valley that you could lose yourself in it, is far from here. At least a month’s walk, perhaps more (you lost time along the way). Your feet are still blistered from the march back to Rome, legs still covered in sores and bruises; even now your cell is a poor comfort, the dirt floors harsh on your knees and shins, abrasive to the partially healed skin of your feet. 

You’ve never been very worldly though, never known more than the four walls around your bed. Perhaps the walk wasn’t nearly as long, as treacherous; maybe you came from the west instead, or the south. You can only guess. 

“I came from the north,” he says, breaking the silence again. That startles you somehow. The thought of him under the thumb of another feels inexplicably gut-wrenching; if a man with a virile, sweat-laden chest like his, arms corded with muscle that yours will never see in a thousand years, has been yoked to Rome’s chariot, what hope do you have? 

You wonder for a moment if he’ll tell you more, but he falls silent after that simple revelation. The weight of his gaze still pins you in place.

“…You’re a prisoner then?” you ask, considering briefly whether to say like I, before discarding the thought. Like I, like me. Are you too in a cage, like me?

It’s difficult to suppress the urge to ask him more, but you do. It does you no good to endear yourself to men that move and stare like beasts. There’s something malignant in him, you think, a rot burrowed in deep. You can feel it stir in you too when your eyes dip too low, halted by the muscles of his thighs and the thick slabs packing his arms. You’ve seen beasts copulate; you imagine he’d be much the same. 

He tilts his head, considering your words. Wolf-like, and you’ve seen wolves before. Though the ever-present helmet obstructs most of his face, the sharpness of his eyes pierces through. “They don’t put me in a cage anymore. What would you call that?”

Your chest collapses under his words. Hopes dashed. Does he go in the cage of his own accord then? Does he lock the door himself, deliver the key to the guard standing watch? You think people taken from their homes should see their plight in each other, but the gladiator before you doesn’t look at you like the two of you share a fate. 

“A slave?” you postulate, perhaps too boldly. Worry crawls inside the walls of your belly when his lips flatten, almost imperceptibly.

“Do I look like a slave to you?” he asks, and you can hear it this time. A gentle warning. A rebuke. A question that tells you all that you need to know about this man and how he sees the two of you. 

You remain silent, cowed under his stare and the tone of his voice. Perhaps he’s right, in a way; he’s not the one in the cage. He seems free to come and go as he pleases, his movements unrestricted. Unlike your own. You’ve hardly left this cell once since a faction of the legionaries left you at the gates of the city to be handled by those in charge, watching slave after slave made empticii, helpless, until finally you were dragged to the stand for viewing. 

You flinch when he grabs one of the bars of your cell, thick fingers coiling around the metal and overlapping easily. 

“What did they take you for, pretty bird?” His fingers tighten around the bar, knuckles whitening. “Every day I fight and yet they never offer you as a prize.”

The new scars on his body make sense then, fresh lacerations across his arms and legs that have multiplied by the days since he started visiting you. Why he gleams with fresh sweat every day, correlating with the fights you hear in the arena above you, the cacophonous chants and stamping feet. You can imagine him in front of a crowd frothing at the mouth for blood and gore. 

He comes stained in it sometimes. You hold your breath until he leaves on those days, reminded too much of your village in the aftermath of the plundering. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper, tucking your legs into your chest and trying to get as close to the wall behind you as possible. 

It’s the truth. No one tells you anything. No one told you what would happen when they ransacked your village and burnt it to ash, the bodies of everyone you’ve ever loved still burning char black in the tall grass, whittled down by the flames. No one told you what would happen after they dragged you back a thousand passus to a city scorched in white marble and stone and immaculate gold. They dragged you here and shut the door. 

He seems frustrated at your words, lips thinning like he has to hold back his rage.

“I’ll slaughter a hundred more if that’s your price,” he says, his helmet knocking into the bars with a rough clang and making you jump when he leans in. His chest lifts with his quickened breaths, working himself up at the thought of more bloodshed. “Then give you their hearts. No other man will take you. I’ll rend their limbs if another man tries. Make you taste their blood on my fingers and lap it up when I split you on my—”

Your heel skitters across the ground, digging a small groove into the dirt and scattering small rocks across the cell. “I don’t k-know what they intend—”

You stare at him when he rises back up to his feet, words dying on your tongue. Standing, he towers over you, shoulders rolling back to puff out his chest. 

“You wait, little bird. Flutter your wings. Soon you’ll see the sun.”

You can only imagine what he means. The thought of sunlight on your face fills you with dread for the first time in your life. 

He leaves without another word, heavy footsteps carrying him to the door until you hear him pry it open, sunlight streaming in for a second before it slams shut. The silence in the absence of him feels monstrous, gargantuan. 

All you can do is let out a shuddering breath.

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

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[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 2

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.8k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.

“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.

“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”

Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?

She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.

It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?

You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.

Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.

~~~

A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.

Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.

You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?

Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come. 

“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”

“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”

“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.

She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”

You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”

“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”

You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.

She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”

Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”

“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”

Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”

She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”

A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.

Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.  

You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~~~

Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.

It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?

You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.

When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.

It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.

He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”

He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”

You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.”  Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?

There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”

~~~

A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.

Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.

Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.

Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”

“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”

It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?

You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.

It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.

He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.

He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”

And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.

He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.

Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”

“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.

“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.

You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.

~~~

Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.

You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.

Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”

He calls out your name. “Wait – ”

You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.

There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”

In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”

His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”

After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”

When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.

~~~

You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.

Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.

He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”

“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.  

“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”

Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”

As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.