#custom made car floor mats

[prestige-perfection]

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[criminalamnesia]

Not a request but NEW TRAITOR CHAP WHEN??? prioritize urself no rush Pookie just the ppl gotta know

part 7 is here 🙏

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

it was pouring rain as you slid from the taxi, the driver attempting to yell at you to shut the door as thunder rumbled overhead.

you paid him no heed; boots splashed in murky puddles as you pushed the door closed and moved towards the yellow cab’s trunk.

you could barely hear yourself think. the rain was battering the ground as if locked in a viscous war with the cracked pavement— puddles forming as the asphalt resisted with all its might. it wasn’t enough, water seeping into the ground and muddying the grass nearby, drowning it mercilessly.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before shutting the trunk. you’d barely stepped back from the car before it was speeding off, kicking up water and splashing your legs.

you didn’t mind— you were soaked through to the bone, anyways. besides, you didn’t mind the storm. it was comfort— a distraction from what lay ahead.

your new team. a small, covert operations group made up of the best of the best. two sergeants, a lieutenant, a captain— and they wanted one more soldier.

the opening couldn’t have come at a better time. you’d run your course with your old squad. they’d been fine— until they weren’t. carelessness and ignorance from teammates almost resulted in your untimely death, and laswell hadn’t questioned your transfer request after hearing the tale.

in fact, she’d recommended the one-four-one to you.

you thought you’d be meeting them on base, but the captain had requested you meet them here, instead. a run-down old diner, with its bright, neon pink sign blinking down at you through the rain.

you inhaled, then exhaled. clenched your fists, then unclenched them. it was a habit you’d had since you were a child. it forced you to slow down and think, to overcome the emotions you were lost in.

you blinked. rain ran down your face, creating false tears as it streamed from the corners of your eyes. you were sure you looked a sight.

another inhale, another exhale, and then you moved towards the diner’s door. you pushed it open, stepping inside and wiping your boots on the mat in front of the door.

“I think you’re gonna need to do more than that to dry off, sweetheart” a woman’s voice calls to you, causing you to look up towards the counter. she’s grimacing, looking you up and down. no doubt she’ll be following your path through the building with a mop in hand.

“sorry,” you tell her, trying to brush some water from your jacket. “forgot my umbrella.”

the woman gave a huff, waving her hand before turning and attending to an ancient-looking coffee maker.

you take the time to glance around the diner then, noting the substantial lack of customers. only two booths were occupied, one containing a young couple tangled in each other’s arms, and the other containing a man wearing a baseball cap with the UK flag patched on it.

he looked up from his phone as you approached, seemingly unsurprised based on the grin he gave you.

“glad to see you got here in one piece,” he says as you shrug off your bag, placing it on the floor as you slide into the seat across from him.

“one drenched piece,” you say, and he gives a small chuckle.

“im kyle,” the man tells you. “don’t know what laswell told you,” he clicks off his phone and places it on the table. “but im one of the sergeants.”

you nod. “callsign ‘gaz,’ right?”

he gives a nod of his own. his phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. his eyes glance down, scan the message, then meet yours once more.

“rest of the team got held up. price is in a meeting. johnny and ghost are on assignment, but they’re due back any day now.”

“so you’re the welcome committee by default, huh?” you say, and he laughs.

“guess i am. have i scared you off yet?”

“dunno,” you tell him. “but laswell sings your praises. the captain’s, especially.”

“she sings yours, too.” kyle says.

you give a small nod, your mind racing at what laswell may have told the task force. you weren’t bad at your job— you were great at it. a great shot, a reliable solider, a tireless sentry.

your emotions got the better of you at times, that was all. attachments and bonds that formed, linking you and your fellow soldiers together in the web of warfare. tying you around the wrist and dragging you along, for better or worse. little siblings or lovers evolving from what once had been just another set of boots on the ground.

this job was all you had. you found family where you had too, and it made you all the more loyal. but when you were spurned? when the fire leapt from the pit and scorched your skin?

you weren’t quick to forgive, and you found that reasonable in this line of work. mistakes by teammates could get you killed. who could blame you for holding a grudge against an ally who had almost cost you your life?

it’s why you were here now. a new start with a new team— a team of the best, you included.

kyle’s phone buzzes again. he picks it up, the screen illuminating his face as the lights flicker overhead. the storm wasn’t letting up.

“cap’s on his way— says he’ll be here in less than 30.”

“price, right?” you recall his name. kyle nods.

“don’t tell him I told you,” he leans in, a mischievous look in his eyes, “but he’s been lookin’ forward to meeting you. maybe even more than johnny has.”

“why’s that?”

“said the one-four-one is overdue for someone else who can kick johnny’s ass. wants you to knock him down a few more pegs.”

you laugh at that, giving a small shake of your head. kyle’s lips curl into a smile. “nah, he’s just happy to have some more hands on deck. always helps to have another person that’ll watch your back.”

as kyle starts talking again, you find your nerves settling.

maybe this team could be your new family.

you looked down at your hands, noting the slight shake of them. you don’t think they’d been steady since before everything happened.

your eyes glance to the ugly, scarred stump of the finger you’d lost. simon hadn’t chopped it off prettily, and it’d been stitched up hastily. you couldn’t blame the doctor, there had been more pressing injuries to attend to.

such as the bone-deep cut to one leg, growing infected from your time spent in the chair. the scar was long, stretching from the top of your thigh to your knee. it was still pink, a sign of your body still trying to put itself back together.

your torso wasn’t much better. jagged scars and puckered knots of skin marred your image. both from before and from after.

your eyes met your own in the mirror. you barely recognized yourself. the anger within you still burned, but its flame had reduced to a simmer. exhaustion, apathy, and shame had taken its place.

perhaps that was a good thing. it saved you the energy of fighting the men you inevitably saw every day. despite your numerous pleas and demands for them to simply leave you alone, they seemed to have a hard time listening. it made you want to scream. to hurt them, digging your fingers into skin until they understood the pain behind your words.

a knock sounded at the door. you didn’t move.

a knock again. you could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door. you wished whoever it was would leave you be.

another knock, accompanied by the soft timbre of kyle’s voice.

“love, you alright in there?” he was saying. you still stood before the mirror.

things had been different since you attacked the doctor. it had only been a few days, but word spread quickly through base. if people had avoided you before, you were like the plague now.

and the shame you felt was insurmountable. the pain and regret and fury were building like a tidal wave in your stomach, rising and choking the air from your lungs.

you wanted to leave this place. get away from the men you once called family, the one you once called yours.

but leaving meant the end of your career. you just had to hold out until kate arranged your transfer, that’s all. just a few more days, right?

and then this place and these people wouldn’t be a constant reminder of what had happened to you. of what it had done to you, physically and mentally.

“go, kyle,” you called out to him, breaking from your trance as you reached for the scratchy robe johnny had gifted you one christmas.

“not until i see you breathin’, love.”

you sigh, tying the robe shut and hugging the material to your body. you moved to the door, turning the lock before inching it open.

“breathing,” you tell him, watching as his eyes flick away from yours. god, it made you want to strangle him.

to yell at him, to yell at all of them— "you did this, and you should be able to look me in the eyes and see it.”

“now go.”

he looks at you again, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “will you let me in?” he asks, and you scoff as you move to slam the door.

“fuck off, kyle.”

but he’s quick, and his hand shoots out, grasping the door’s wooden edge and keeping it from closing.

“we need to talk.”

“whatever you need to say, you can say it from there,” you tell him, and he pauses for a minute before he nods.

“doc is asking about you again. she’s up and runnin’ around. said she wants to see you.”

your lips press into a thin line. you didn’t deserve that woman’s kindness, not after what you’d done to her.

you hadn’t been in your right mind, but that didn’t excuse it. you had bloodied your fists; harmed an innocent in the war between you and your own mind.

you didn’t want to see her still worrying about you when you had assured her you were fine. you had left her supervision, and then you’d attacked her. and you hadn’t stopped until simon had pulled you away.

you would’ve killed her, you know that in your heart. you would’ve killed her, thinking she was one of the men who had wanted to kill you.

“tell her im fine,” you said, your hand tightening around the door’s knob.

“i think she’d rather see that for herself,” he says.

“im fine,” you repeat. “i’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a few days, anyways.”

kyle’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “you’re leaving?”

he knew this, they all did. perhaps they just didn’t truly believe it. all of them, every single one, still thought you’d turn around and run back into their arms.

bastards.

“as soon as laswell gives the word,” you reply. “should be soon.”

kyle doesn’t speak. he’s obviously biting his tongue— you’d seen the expression that was on his face enough to know when he was holding back, but you didn’t prod like you would’ve before.

let him keep his secrets, lies, promises, and sorries. you didn’t need them anymore.

“don’t bother me again,” you said before shutting the door in his face.

you hear him sigh on the other side of the wood, then hear the retreat of his steps. you turn back to the mirror, snarl, and grab the alarm clock from your nightstand.

you throw it into the glass, shattering it to pieces. seven years of bad luck, you think.

well, it couldn’t get much worse, could it?

kyle sighs, staring at your door for a second longer before turning away. simon looks down at him from where he was leaning against the wall, hidden from your view, his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“surprised?” simon asks as the two of them retreat down the hallway. he makes sure they’re far enough from your door before speaking, so that you won’t hear his voice.

“we knew it was happening, price said as much after that whole thing with johnny,” kyle replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “just thought this might change things.”

“change ‘em how?” simon says. “if anythin’, this speeds it up. they’re a liability now.”

“they’re hurt, ghost,” kyle retorts, his eyes meeting his superior’s. “that’s ptsd. not everyone’s as forgiving as the doc. they attack someone outside and that’s a fucking felony.”

“that’s not our problem, sergeant,” comes simon’s baritone reply, and kyle stops.

“you’re a fuckin’ case yourself, y’know that, LT?” he says, and simon stops. “we all played a part,” kyle continues. “but you? you would’ve killed ‘em if we never knew the truth. i know you would’ve. i’ve seen you do it.”

the men stare at each other. simon’s expression is hidden underneath his balaclava, but kyle knows it’s unreadable regardless.

mean, old ghost. heartless bastard, loyal to the mission only. that’s what the others around base whispered to each other.

kyle had seen proof to the contrary. yes, simon was loyal to the mission. but he was also loyal to his team, his family. you.

he was loyal to you.

“watch yourself, sergeant,” simon speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble.

kyle scoffs and walks off, shaking his head.

simon watches him go, his breath steady.

kyle didn’t understand him, not really. not the way you had begun to. and that was his own fault, he knows it. forever holding those close to him at arms length for fear of the worst.

he’d let you in— let you invade that space he enforced so ruthlessly. and the worst had happened.

kyle doesn’t know this is tearing him in half; none of the team does. they don’t understand that simon wants you to stay because you’re you, but he wants you gone because he can see how this is killing you.

even when he’s the villain in your story, he’s still trying to look out for you— in his own, twisted way.

he doesn’t regret it. that is cemented in his mind. but as he grapples with his own emotions, his mind in its own turmoil, he knows he wants you to be okay.

“im sorry,” he had spoken to deaf ears.

sorry for the ripping apart of your life, but not sorry for what he had done.

deep down, he knew you would never forgive them. he knew that leaving this team would be the best thing for you.

he knew, he knew, he knew.

knowing and accepting are two different things.

hope this was worth the wait! i think the next part will be the end, unless my idea changes 👀

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 5)

Summary: Russell's taken care of the reader's problem but things take a turn and the happy couple may not be so happy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,300ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury/past drugging/brief mention of attempted assault (not shown) mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker, murder, self-worth issues

A/N: Thank you all for taking this journey with me with writing this new character! I might return to this world someday but until then, please enjoy the finale!

__________

When you pulled up to the dark house, you noticed Russell’s car had been pulled into the garage and covered with a tarp. You swallowed as you pulled in beside it, biting back bile when Owen parked right behind you, preventing any escape if it came to that. You’d given Russell nearly thirty minutes notice to prepare. You really hoped whatever he had planned was going to be over with fast.

“Fuck,” said Owen, dashing from his car in the downpour to inside the garage. He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap. You’d seen the gash on his forehead before but from the overhead light, a skull fracture was very visible. The dried blood had matted into his thick hair and, along with the other injuries, made him look half-dead. 

“Why don’t you go relax inside, honey?” you forced out when you exited, slamming the door shut loudly, hoping Russell picked up on the fact you were here. “I’ll get the bags and then I’ll take a look at those cuts.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t take too long.” You didn’t like how he kept saying that. He’d hung off of you at the store. Even if he wasn’t a raging psycho, personal space was still a thing.

You pretended to fuss about at the trunk as he went in the door from the garage to the house. It was quiet for a beat, your gaze locked on the open door in the corner.

Two quick shots rang out and you hit the cement floor hard. Nothing could be heard over the rain, your heart hammering away in your chest. Russell wouldn’t have shot Owen, would he? No, Russell would have snuck up on him, taken him out before he knew what hit him.

So had Owen been shooting? Was Russell hurt? You slowly sat up on your hands and knees, crawling along the side of the car until you reached the hood. You peaked your head around the corner and saw a pair of legs lying on the ground through the open door. It looked like Owen so you carefully rose, flinching when Russell came bounding in from behind you.

He held up his hands, your eyes widening at the blood staining his crisp white tee. 

“What-”

“My stitches tore,” he said, turning his bicep towards you, the blood staining underneath the bandage. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, glancing back inside to where the body lay motionless. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet,” said Russell, inching past you towards a work bench. “Although he did shoot my fucking front door. Do you have any idea how much a custom mahogany door costs? I might kill him for that alone.”

Russell opened a drawer, taking out duct tape and zip ties. He slammed it shut, pausing with his back to you.

“He’s not going to leave you alone if I let him live.” 

“I know. He’s been following me for awhile I guess,” you said. 

“I can frame him for Elpine’s murder if you don’t want me to kill him.” You leaned back against your car, Russell setting the items on the bench and joining you. “I don’t have to…you know.”

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-” You went to his workbench and ripped off a garbage bag from the roll, Russell closing his eyes. “Y/N, you should stay out here. Let me do this.”

“Owen started slipping roofies into my drinks when I was fifteen.” His head snapped up as you sighed. “He drugged me twice but nothing happened because my dad was around. I had to be more careful once dad started to lose it. Owen’s a good decade older than me I’m sure you noticed. I’ve been scared of this guy for too long. I’m not asking you to kill him. I’m asking you to show me how to do this myself.”

“I appreciate how strong you are but I’m doing it,” he said, taking the bag from you. You dropped your hand, frowning up at him. He sighed, stroking your cheek with his clean hand. “Your soul has enough scars for a lifetime. Don’t add more.”

“You don’t have to kill someone for me, Russell. You don’t need that on you either. Look what you’ve already done.”

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

Three Hours Later

“To be perfectly clear, I’m doing this for Y/N, not you,” said Colter with a coldness you didn’t love. You knew Russell’s relationship with his little brother was strained but you’d thought it had gotten better over the past few days.

“Yeah, well it don’t take a genius to see you like her better,” said Russell, Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move. “I’ll never ask you for a thing again. You never even have to speak to me. Think what you want about me. Just please do this for Y/N’s sake.”

“I already…” huffed Colter when you side eyed him with narrowed eyes. He let out a slow exhale. “Fine. You owe me, Russell. Big.”

“Colter,” you said, nodding towards his truck. You left Russell as he went back to taping the large cooler in the garage shut. You assumed he’d put Owen inside and cleaned up while you were gone at the store. The rain had paused momentarily but there was another batch of storms coming through soon. You sighed as you stopped next to the younger Shaw, Colter crossing his arms. “I’m not letting you do this. I know Russell asked but I can’t let you move a body for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, face turning into a scowl. 

“I’m not moving…Russell!” Russ’ head popped up, Colter becoming increasingly annoyed. “Tell me what is going on right now or I swear you and me are done. Forever.”

Russell sighed, throwing his head back. “I may have lied about the Y/N wanting to tag along with you so she can tidy up her place in Virginia.”

“You what?” you asked, storming over to him. “You were trying to pawn me off on Colter again? For what! Owen’s dead, there’s no one left to bother me.”

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Slowly Russell met your gaze, ignoring Colter behind you. “So is this how it’s going to be? Any time everything’s not perfect you’re going to drop me on your brothers doorstep at the drop of a hat? News flash, Colter isn’t my babysitter. I’m a grown woman who has seen and handled more crap than you know. I thought you didn’t think of me as a damsel.”

“I don’t but-”

“But you don’t want me around for the hard stuff. I got the message.” 

“Y/N, someone else could still be left. They could kill you-” You held up your hand, Colter heading back to his truck to give you some space.

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

Russell swallowed, face going stoic. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Your heart dropped like a rock into the pit of your stomach, Russell’s jaw clenching. “You should pack up your stuff here and go with Colter. Go back to Virginia. You’re probably right. This was just attraction, plain and simple.”

“Russell, that’s not what I was saying-” 

“Yeah, it was. Just go. Please. I’ll deal with Owen. Just go back to Virginia and start your life over away from people like us.” With that he brushed past you for Colter, ignoring his repeated calls. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled as you went inside and shoved the few belongings that weren’t in the trunk of your car into a bag. You very purposefully left every pair of underwear, bra and pajamas he’d bought you behind. The cheap sports bra and cotton underwear you’d bought earlier would get you through until you were home.

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine. You were free of the mafia. Free of guys with fucked up pasts. Your options were limitless.

And thank god Colter was smart enough to not ask about your red rimmed eyes by the time you were on the road.

Five Days Later

You gave Colter a wave from your front step as he drove off down the street. It’d taken only two days to drive cross country this time. Apparently you drove faster when you were upset. Or you didn’t sleep as much. Either way, Colter didn’t ask and was happy to get to Virginia where he had a missing accountant to find.

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room. In exchange, Colter got you hooked up with the basics of reward work. There were some extra perils to the job being a woman but also advantages that Colter didn’t have. He went over finding jobs, finding a team, learning how to get access to tools and databases. You didn’t have a lot of confidence in going after a full fledged disappearance yet but Colter mentioned it wasn’t always people that were what was missing.

By the end of his short stay, you had information overload but were grateful for the chance to start doing something good for once in your life.

Meanwhile, Russell hadn’t reached out once. You had to assume he’d disposed of Owen. You weren’t sure why you were still waiting for a text or a call. It was pretty clear things were over. Russell was too protective and you weren’t going to let another man tell you what to do again. 

Yet, you knew you were at fault too. Russell had just killed a guy in his house for you and he knew a hell lot more about getting away with a murder than you did. Russell had points for not wanting to involve you. And you had to be an asshole and pressure him for more when there was literally a dead body at your feet.

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, leaning against the kitchen island with your head lowered. “Why did I do that?”

The doorbell rang, your head slowly rising. You sighed as you went to it, pulling it open quickly. 

“Did you forget-” You cut yourself off when you didn’t see Colter standing there. No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands. “Russ? What-”

“Let me get this out and then I’ll get out of your life forever if that’s what you want,” he said. You leaned against the door jam, Russell taking a deep breath. “Y/N, I like you. A lot. Too much probably for how long we’ve known each other. Everything you said was right. I avoid my problems because it’s a hell of a lot easier to fix someone else’s in my experience.”

He swallowed, glancing at his feet. “Owen could have hurt you at that store. He could have taken you, shown up at the house and killed you. I fucked up and you don’t seem to understand that Owen’s obsession and how fucking smart you are is the only reason we’re still here and he’s not. I told you I took care of it and I didn’t. I was angry at myself and wanted you somewhere safer than with me so I pushed your buttons on purpose. I lied on purpose so you’d get mad and leave with Colter. You deserve a good man and I’m not him. I kill people. I use sex as a way to be close to women but then never let myself be in a relationship because I don’t want them to see beneath the surface and see the shit that’s in there. I want better for you than me.”

Russell looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face. “Can we try being friends again and maybe I can become that man that deserves you along the way?”

“Russell,” you sighed. You stepped forward, cupping his cheeks, green eyes full of caution. “We can be friends. I’d like it if we were more than that, though.” 

He slowly smiled, his lip ticking up when you stroked his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You do not have to share your deepest darkest secrets with me, never mind the first day we’re actually together. That was unfair of me. I just want you to know you can share them with me if you want to.” 

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Y/N,” he said softly. “Dozens. Some of them, most of them, I never gave two shits about. No nightmares. No trauma. That’s not normal. It’s been years since I’ve felt all that bad about killing.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about killing monsters,” you said. He closed his eyes and you leaned in, kissing his forehead. “S’that why you didn’t want me to kill Owen?”

“Moral and practical reasons,” he whispered. “I don’t kill out of revenge. I don’t think I ever have. It always has another purpose. Protect someone, protect a group or the general public from a threat. Some psych told me once that’s why I don’t struggle as much with what I’ve done as some other folks. The way I grew up helped me with that. But I do struggle with it still and you’ve struggled enough. You don’t need that on you.”

“I understand. I’m so used to being controlled and told what to do…I can never go back to that.”

“You never will,” he said, opening his eyes. You tilted your head, Russell turned into your touch to match. “I’m sure I’ll fuck things up again. We can be friends if that’s all you ever want.”

“I don’t want to be just friends. So what if we fight? That’s what couples do.” You took his hand in yours and the flowers in the other, leading him inside behind you. 

“I quit my job a few days ago.” You froze, spinning around on your heels. He shrugged, still holding your hand. “I can’t change my life without making some changes.”

“You still want to do that home brew for a career?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to give it a shot.” He spotted the stacks of papers on your kitchen table and open computer. “Colter offer you a spot on his team?”

“He did at first but I want to try doing it my way, stop patching up the bad guys and doing something good. He warned me it can be dangerous work though, especially as a woman flying solo.”

“He makes very good points,” said Russell, thumbing at your lip when you smiled. “What’s that look for?”

“Maybe you could be on my team sometimes, show me a few moves from the expert.” You started to walk backwards towards your bedroom, Russell’s eyebrows raising. “If you want to.”

“I’ll show you any kind of moves you’d like, qark.” He held his ground though, stopping you in place. You waited for the but to come, for him to push back on getting back together. Instead, he took the flowers from your hand and went into your kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water. He set the flowers on the island before rejoining you, resting his hands on your hips. “I like the idea of working together as partners.”

“But…” you said, Russell kissing the top of your head.

“But you are far too kind, my queen of darkness. I was expecting to get told to get lost tonight and I have plans I can’t get out of with my friends very shortly.”

“Oh,” you said, Russell’s finger tips finding the ends of your hair and playing with a few strands. “If you have plans, we can meet up another-”

“You want to know my dark side?” Your eyes flicked to meet his, your head nodding once. “You can’t unknow what kind of man I am once you do. I don’t blame you if you change your mind about me.”

“I want to know you. All of you.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Go change into something discreet. Dark clothes. Leave your phone home. If at any point you want to leave, say so and I bring you right back here, understand?” You nodded, Russell backing away. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?”

“You can change in the bedroom with me.” He smirked but backed away.

“Another time. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, Russell glancing away.

“Don’t be mad but we need to pay Owen a visit.”

Twenty minutes later you quietly followed Russell into what looked like a decommission warehouse that should have been torn down a decade ago. The building was pitch black apart from the single light coming from the end of a hallway. You stuck behind Russell as you entered the room, stopping when you found six different men and a woman inside, most carrying a weapon on their hip or tucked into their jeans from what you could tell.

And smack in the center of the room tied to a chair was Owen very much still alive. Although…alive was being generous. He didn’t look more injured than when you’d last seen him but his color was off and his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn’t even angry when he saw you, just…scared.

“He behave while I was gone?” asked Russell to a man and woman nearby.

“Tried bribing Doug and then all of us to let him go,” said the woman. She gave Owen a nasty look before turning gentle as she looked towards Russell. “I think you scared the poor boy, Shaw.”

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?” said Russell, giving Owen a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So. Owen, my friends. Friends, Owen. You’re already acquainted with Y/N.”

Owen’s gaze flickered to you when Russell grabbed a chair from the wall and sat it a few feet away from Owen, facing him. Russell sat down slowly, nodding when you moved closer so you could see both their faces.

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

“On me, big guy,” said Russell, snapping his fingers, Owen reluctantly looking at him. “You got some options. Prison. You die very quickly. Or…me and my friends can make sure you die very slowly. Your choice.”

“Why didn’t you kill him yet?” you asked again. Russell sighed, glancing down. “Russell.”

“There were some things that never sat right with me that I wanted answers to. The stuff with your family’s accident and your dad’s paranoia, him attacking you. I had a paranoid father too. I know the signs, know that they want to protect us in their own way. The coincidence of meeting someone just like me was too high so I started to dig. You mentioned Owen’s drugged you a few times in the past and tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I’m not following,” you said. Russell stood slowly, staring down Owen like a predator with it’s prey firmly caught in a trap.

“I figured if he drugged you, who else had he slipped something to? What good man, good doctor, could a prescription drug running family slip into his drinks? The more I researched, the more my friends helped, the more we found.” Russell clenched his fists by his side, knuckles turning white. “Should I tell her Owen? Or do you have the balls to tell her yourself?”

Russell ripped off the tape over his mouth, Owen wincing as he breathed deeply. Russell was on him like that, grabbing his throat, not squeezing but adding enough pressure that it was going to be uncomfortable. “I told you to talk, you sack of shit.”

“Y/N, this guys is lying. I never did anything to you!” Russell’s jaw clenched and you watched him squeeze, only backing off when you laid a gentle hand on Russell’s shoulder. 

“He’s psycho!” said Owen, Russell backing up a step. You looked up to him, Russell’s face unreadable. “Y/N, baby-”

“Shut the fuck up before I stab you in your spine,” you said. Owen’s jaw snapped shut, a flicker of something in Russell’s eyes. Pride? Amusement? It quickly flittered away, replaced with worry when you held out a hand. “Can I have your knife?”

Russell slowly took it out of his pocket, handing the engraved handle out to you. You flicked it open and took a seat in the chair, holding it pointed down at the concrete floor.

“Owen. Tell me the truth and I won’t kill you. I swear. But I can get the answers from you if you don’t cooperate. Don’t make me get my boyfriend’s knife bloody.”

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Our old fixer wanted out, wanted to go to the feds so my dad had him killed. I was eighteen and he told me to start earning my place as successor. He told me to find a new fixer. Your dad was one of the best doctors in the city. Things were…arranged. Two weeks later we-” 

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

“Two weeks later I…put a hit on your family. Your mom and brother specifically. We only needed one kid to survive and I thought a girl would be easier to control. I started drugging your father that night with antipsychotics to create paranoia,” said Owen, his head hanging low. “I orchestrated the whole thing. We fed him the drugs for years, it made him stay close if not a little extreme. It kept taking more though.”

“Do. Not. Skip. Ahead,” growled Russell, grabbing a fistful of Owen’s shirt.

“O-okay. I-I…I started thinking about how to get your dad to stick around once you grew up and you were pretty and smart and I thought you’d be happy with me.”

“How old was she when you decided this?” barked Russell. Owen whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. “Fifteen you disgusting waste of space.”

“You started drugging me then,” you said. Owen shook his head.

“Not with that stuff. Just roofies. But not enough for you to be completely out of it. Your dad started keeping a closer eye on you and I tried waiting for you to come around on your own but it was so hard when you went away to college. I knew I couldn’t let you run off like that again so…” Owen’s shoulders shook, mouth snapping shut.

“So you roofied her, attacked her and she fought back. Her father protected her and you fucking killed him for it. Your dear old daddy found what you’d done and wasn’t happy, was he? He covered up your murder and blamed her father knowing Y/N wouldn’t remember a thing. Y/N was forced to go to med school and learn crap she didn’t want to all while daddy had you banished away from her. You tried to keep tabs on her but it wasn’t until dad died that you could finally take Y/N like you wanted. It’s pure fucking luck I showed up when I did to make sure that didn’t happen. Would you like to tell Y/N about the fucking padded door locks and bars on the window in her old room back at the house? About your plans for her?”

Russell grabbed Owen’s hair, forcing his head up. Owen was trembling, whispering apologies and saying how he didn’t mean it, over and over.

“So…you killed my family…and tried to assault me more than once over the years…and were planning on keeping me as a…pet in the house until I magically fell in love with you. I think that sums it up,” you said. You stood up, handing Russell his knife. “I’m not going to kill him.”

“Thank you,” sighed Owen in relief. “Thank you. I-I knew you’d be able to forgive me-”

“Oh, I don’t forgive you and I wouldn’t be thanking me,” you said, smiling up at Russell. ““Papa Elpine and a few guys made it out I heard. Bobby was his favorite son, right?”

“Y/N! I killed Bobby! They’ll-” Russell shoved some tape over his mouth and hummed.

You crossed your arms, Russell tilting his head at you. “You know they’re going to torture Owen to death.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him and I’m keeping my word,” you said, Owen shouting under the tape. “I’d tell you to confess but Elpine’s connected. He’d just have you killed in prison. So. Elpine it is.”

“You sure?” asked Russell. You pursed your lips, Owen pleading with his eyes. Everything in you wanted to say yes, let him get what he had coming. 

So why couldn’t you say it? 

You looked to Russell, nodding. “Get rid of him, please,” you mouthed.

“Look away,” said Russell. You turned around, Owen panting hard before there was a loud crack and the room was still. Russell’s hand found your shoulder, rubbing it softly. “We took care of Elpine’s guys. You know that.”

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

“I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years. Best I came up with is you got to try and let it go. The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, walking you towards the door. You nearly looked back but he blocked you with his body. “No. He’s gone for good, you don’t need to give him anything more. I’m sorry for not killing him back in Washington. I just thought you deserved the truth. Your dad was a good man.”

“Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I wish I realized that sooner.”

“Come on,” he said, walking you out to the hallway. “Let’s get you home.”

One Month Later

You smiled from your chair when Russell let out a single tiny snore from the couch across from you. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days and honestly, it was kind of adorable the way this incredibly dangerous man made the cutest cooing noises while he slept.

“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes a few minutes later. You looked around, holding up a finger. “I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

“Well, you make these cute sounds when you sleep,” you said. He smirked, slowly flicking his lazy eyes open.

“And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been sleeping, hm?” You shrugged and slid down in your chair with your book, grinning behind the pages. “I can see that smile, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me for the amazing orgasms you give,” you said, flicking your eyes over the top of the book, Russell propping himself up on his elbows with a predatory gaze. “Down boy. Later.”

“You better,” he said, plopping back with a huff. “Remind me to never help Frank with a favor ever again.”

“Frank helped you with Owen,” you reminded him. Russell scoffed.

“All he did with Owen was stand there and look scary. I didn’t make him build a fucking deck in the pacific northwest in forty degree weather.”

“Aw, is baby boy cranky?” you teased. He growled, playfully tossing his pillow at you. “You guys should wrap up tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan. Then I’m going back to waking up at a humane hour,” he said, forcing himself to sit up and stretch out with a few grunts. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You needed it,” you said, flipping a page. Russell glanced over to the dining table, taking in the decorated spread. 

“You set a place for Colter?” he asked. 

“Yes…right next to Dory’s,” you said, closing your book and setting it aside. “You still think he won’t come?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to come to a housewarming party. Especially his brother’s housewarming party. We still haven’t talked since…” 

“I know,” you said, standing and pulling him to his feet. He was still sleepy as you ruffled his hair, Russell turning into the touch. “I’m excited to meet your friends and family properly.”

“They want to know all about you, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “You can’t imagine the amount of shit they’ve given me after I said I’d never settle down.”

“I moved in a week ago. We’re a ways from settling down,” you said. He titled his head, smiling at you. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” he teased, leaning in close, dipping his head, kissing under your jaw.

“Shaw! Do not give me a hickey! I do not want them seeing-” You sucked in a breath, brain going fuzzy when he nipped at the soft flesh. 

“Too bad, qark. If I have to have hickeys all over my neck then so do you,” he said, suckling the skin. A buzzer went off in the kitchen and he groaned when you slipped away so the rolls wouldn’t burn. “Y/N…”

“Saved by the bell,” you said, taking out the pan and leaving them to cool off. Russell was by your side quickly, hands on your hips so you couldn’t escape. “Okay. How about you can give me as many hickeys as you want later if you’re a good boy this afternoon?”

“Hm, I do like being your good boy,” he said, squeezing your hips. “Deal.”

“Good. Where do you keep-“

The doorbell trilled, your heads turning towards the front windows. A familiar pickup truck was out front, Russell raising his eyebrows. You nodded for the door, Russell cautious as he answered. Colter stood on the front porch with an awkward forced smile and a pink box.

“I uh, picked up some dessert for dinner later,” he said offering the box. Russell took it, setting it aside on the front table. “You going to invite me in?”

“I thought you…” Russell shook his head and opened the door wider, letting his younger brother inside. Colter gave you a brief smile before clearing his throat.

“I uh, can help you get ready or cook. I just…last time we talked Russell…”

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

“Yeah,” said Colter, returning it for a moment before the boys broke apart. “How’s the girlfriend situation working out for you?”

“I’m telling you man, find the right girl, you’ll never want to go back to being a loner,” said Russell, giving you a smirk. “They do come with a lot of rules though, fair warning.”

“I asked you to put the toilet seat down, Shaw,” you chided. 

“Like I said, rules,” teased Russell. You picked up a knife by your cutting board, narrowing your eyes. “We should help before she starts using that on us.”

“Yes you should,” you said, Colter shrugging out of his jacket and boots, joining your side after washing up. “Can you cut up the veggies into strips?”

“Can do,” he said, swapping places with you. You smiled when Russell took the dessert box and started to arrange the treats on a platter over on the dinning table. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the last time we were all here.”

You frowned as you peeled a bag of potatoes into a bowl. “You mean when I lost my cool on Russell? You have nothing to apologize for Colter. We were asking you for a favor. Again. I’m honestly surprised you don’t hate me. I know you value your alone time.”

Colter was quiet, chopping neatly and pushing the scraps into a discard bowl. “Did Russell ever tell you how he got that gunshot he went to you for in the first place?”

“Someone kidnapped Doug. He went to save him.”

“Did you know I helped him with that?” You shook your head, setting the peeler down. Colter had stopped dicing, a barely there smile crossing his face. “If it weren’t for my brother asking for my help with his friends, I’m not sure we ever would have spoke again.”

“I know there’s a complicated history there.” He hummed, watching Russell across the room. “It means a lot to him that you’re trying too.”

“S’all we can do is try, right?” he said, going back to his cutting. “So. My brother is clearly head over heels. What about you? Should I expect a wedding invitation soon?”

“Uh, no,” you said, laughing to yourself. “We’re certainly not traditional but we’re nowhere near ready for that. We’ll see how living together goes for awhile before we talk about anything like long term plans.”

“Yet you moved in already.” You rolled your eyes. “Just an observation.”

“For convenience sake. Russ is looking into land for the brewery around here since he left his job and apartments in town are limited.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s it. Silly me,” he said. You held up your peeler to him, Colter raising his hands. “Russ, I think I broke one of your girlfriend’s rules.”

“It was nice knowing ya,” said Russell with a chuckle. “Give him a swift death for me, qark.”

“Qark?” asked Colter as you turned your attention to the potatoes. 

“Queen of darkness. Now hurry up with those so you and Russ can have some alone time before dinner.”

Six Hours Later

“This is going well,” said Russell to you in the kitchen as laughed and a smoky scent filtered in from the back porch. “Everyone really likes you.”

“I suppose I have met them all before, except for Dory. She’s such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I was expecting but-”

“She was much younger than us when our dad died. After she went to live with our aunt and uncle. She’s tough but normal in a way Colter and I won’t ever…” You rubbed his back, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Did you like, drug him? Or bribe him? I seriously can’t believe he’s still here let alone came.”

“Of course he came. No matter what’s happened in the past, he loves his big brother.” Russell tucked you into his side, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder. “I found a job in Wyoming. Missing prized show dog. I was going to head out in the morning, see if I’m any good at this.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Be safe though.”

“I will be.” You turned in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms around his back in a hug. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if I was safe. It’s nice. This weird little family you have is…I’m jealous to be honest.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s yours too.” You raised your eyebrows, Russell raising his own, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

“Me either,” you said, the tension running out of his face. “I want to know who we are without our old jobs, how to be a happy queen of darkness.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Speaking of which, I got you a present for helping organize all of this and cooking for ten people after literally just moving cross country. I know it was stressful so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need a present, Russ,” you said, a sneaky smile forming on his face. “Oh. This is a present for the both of us.”

“I got you a new pair of jammies, the lilac set this time,” he said. Russell’s smile grew as yours did, his arms lifting you off the ground, bringing you to eye level. “You deserve all the good things in life, qark.”

“I think we got something pretty good starting right here,” you said, kissing him once, Russell humming.

“I couldn’t agree more, baby. Couldn’t agree more.”

__________

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ you make me feel like I am clean again ❞

yandere!mob leaders x gn!reader | how you met | not proofread

warnings: graphic description of violence, guns, power imbalance (r! is part of the gang but they are a low-ranking member), yandere tendencies, mentions of drug dealings, very brief mention of r! getting felt up by someone in JH's section

masterlist ;

authors note: doing some oc writing feels lowkey daunting but I hope you guys enjoy it, I wasn't exactly sure how to format this aaaa but! I hope it isn't too confusing. I wanted to go more into depth but I suppose this serves as an introductory post to them??? IDK, I've never written this kinda thing before. * here is the better-quality post of the illustration * song on repeat: Love Song by Mariee Sioux

Kim Seo-Yun —

Seo-Yun would be unimpressed the first time she laid her eyes on you. It wouldn't be due to your looks, mannerisms, voice; she's just been hardwired that way.

Wants and needs are hard to convey when you're running one of the most dangerous businesses one could run. Drugs, gambling, skin, weapons — Seo-Yun's a busy woman.

Over time, however, she'll let her gaze linger on you.

Have you always looked so good in that colour? It really does bring out the shine in your eyes, and the suppleness of your lips. Seo-Yun's gaze is intimidating but seeing you squirm is all a part of your charm.

That's right. You're only dressing and acting this way to grab her attention, correct? Why else would she find it so hard to rip her sights from you?

Honestly, she shouldn't be making such frequent trips to the lower ring of her gang. This warehouse was meant to weed out the weakest of her guard dogs. It reeked of sweat and blood and cigarettes and cheap booze. The constant sounds of wrapped knuckles beating down on sandbags and bodies falling on thin mats gave her a headache.

Yet. She stands here on the second floor, gazing down at the sweaty men, a handful of women, and most importantly; you.

Favoritism comes slower than her interests. Seo-Yun will shove her feelings down until it bursts like a fucking volcano. All of a sudden, it's as if she's a hound that's caught the scent of their kill.

"What?" The man before you is wearing an expensive suit, luxury adorning him from the shimmering cuffs to the stitching that holds it together. "Madam Kim is requesting your transfer," he says curtly.

The transfer promotes you from doing grunt work near a polluted harbor to one of Seoul's most expensive penthouses in Gangnam.

It's jarring. She does not give you time to adjust. One moment you're setting down your duffel bag of things and the next you're in the back of a luxury car driving through Seoul's wealthiest district.

The guards (who are double your size and proudly show off their facial scars) push you toward the door of a seamstress. The very air you breathe smells like money.

When you see Seo-Yun, your eyes widen and you kneel to bow.

She muffles her amusement with a slow drag of her cigarette.

"They're very pretty, Madam Seo-Yun," a kindly old lady says from behind her. Her hands were bony and delicate, and the pin cushion she wore around her wrist looked heavy. Everything about her seemed deliberate and put together.

Despite that, despite the glamorous patterns she had on her and the jewelry hanging from her ears; Seo-Yun called for eyes on her with no more than a simple wave of her hand, flicking the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Aren't they? Such a gem."

Seo-Yun orders you to be a part of her security team. Dresses you in custom-made suits to blend in with the rest of the capable men and women. She gives you new weapons and arranges for you to have an apartment near hers. New fake IDs in store, local beat cops turning their gaze away as you smoke in alleyways with an obvious bulk under your jacket.

A gem she called you. And like a gem, she cannot keep her eyes off you.

Stares at you as if you were put on display. Relishes in the way you keep your gaze down, squaring your shoulders, straightening your posture — squirming under her gaze.

"Come inside," you freeze at her words. The other security guards stand stoically in the private entryway of her penthouse and she stands on the threshold of that obscenely large and heavy door.

"Madam?" you squeak out. She narrows her upturned eyes, like a goddess with no mood to be asked twice.

This is a nightly occurrence. It becomes a routine.

She invites you into her home, leaving the door open for you to close on your way in. She sits on the tufted leather sofa, and her grin is expectant.

You kneel. Then, you bring your palms to the floor and crawl towards her. Only stopping when your chin is on her knee and you bring your eyes to meet hers.

"Sweet thing," she'll coo. Her palm is soft and cared for, but there is the slightest bit of callousness here and there. That roughness that comes with holding a gun to someone's head.

The first time she had told you to kneel, you'd been so confused you stood there like a statue. Seo-Yun gives you a minute to let it click, and she tilts her head as you jerkily kneel on her expensive floors.

"Crawl to me."

"Sweet darling," she continues. Your eyes flutter close as she traces your cheekbones with her thumb. "So good for me, so obedient, aren't you?"

How could you not be?

In the weeks you'd been with her, your life took such a drastic turn. Well-fed, well-cared for, and pampered in little but big ways. You were the runt of the litter, a stray, she told you.

She had seen you, she said. She had seen your potential, your drive, your passion.

"I was...I just, I just needed the money, Madam," you sheepishly admit that first night, balancing your chin on her knee.

Who would choose to become the grunt of a dangerous gang? Miniscule soldiers with dreams of dying a movie-worthy death, of brotherly bonds between hardened criminals — Please. You were at the end of your rope, this was the only option before the noose.

"Money is life," Seo-Yun strokes over your cheeks. "You fought to live, climbed through the muddy filth of the pier, and here you are. In my lap."

"I see you, (Y/N)."

"Are you tired?" the shake of your head earns a firm squeeze on your jaw. Your eyes flutter open so she grins sweetly.

"Bathe with me." She lifts your chin and you stand, taking her into your arms as she tugs on the shoulder gun strap you wore, leading you along like a leash. A security guard's job does not include such tasks. You're aware. But how could you say no to the most powerful woman in Seoul?

Your relationship starts off with a clear dynamic. You belong to Seo-Yun, no ifs or buts. No matter how dubious your feelings towards her are, you cannot deny there is such a lovely prospect of being a powerful person's beloved.

Or gem. Or pet. Or...whatever it is Seo-Yun considers you as.

All you know is you are hers and she expects nothing but loyalty and excellence from you. She dresses you in the best, feeds you the best foods, your mattress is hers and therefore it is fit for a Queen.

How spoiled are you, (Y/N)?

So spoiled you do not even realise the pretty cage she's put around you. Don't realise that those pearly white gates are her own teeth as she closes her jaws; too distracted by the gifts, the love, she showers you in.

Exactly how she wants you to be. Pliant, demure, and hers.

So what if your old friends suddenly never contact you again? Or your financial dependence has suddenly been transferred to her? If you never hold a gun in your hands ever again.

"Crawl to me, baby."

And you do. And she grins as she holds your face.

"Good pet."

Kim Jeong-Hyun —

Jeong-Hyun is a peculiar man. Some would argue he's barely a man; others would chime that he's barely human. The sight of the deep scars on his body; the mutilated side of his face. His left ear was chewed off, his left eye cloudy, and a good chunk of his lips ripped off to reveal gums and teeth.

Even if he wasn't a monster; he looked it. That was enough to set people on edge. Seemingly unaware of how he plants the fear of God within people, Jeong-Hyun stares at everyone with a dark gaze that could make the devil shiver.

Unlike his older sister, who hides her emotions until they spill over the edge, he makes his interest known from the beginning.

His good eye, lighter than any brown you've ever seen; a molten hazel that flashes gold in sunlight, devours you as he stands before you.

Although Madam Seo-Yun attends the funerals of her fallen men, she does not linger for the drinking and eating. Jeong-Hyun does.

You'd excused yourself from your circle, the drinks making your body warm enough to endure the cold night air as you light up a cigarette.

The clicking of nails on the brick ground forces you to look at the whimpering dog. Mangy, fur matted, and with its stubby legs like rubber as it paws at your shoe. It was someone's pet, left on the streets. Judging from the overgrown fur, it's been a while since someone's given it any kindness.

Jeong-Hyun had just walked out for a breather (he enjoys spending time with his men, but the noises and the scent of booze could get overwhelming), a bag of meat in hand as he set his sights on feeding the local strays.

But then he sees you crouched by an alleyway, pouring some cheap kibble you bought from a nearby convenience store onto some newspaper. Jeong-Hyun's footsteps are ghostlike, you don't even notice he's there until you feel his breath whisper along your ear and when you spin he's statue-like.

"B — Boss!" He's not the boss — he's just her brother. He still outranked you (by a whole league) so, he doesn't correct you as you bow your head so far down it's between your knees.

He looks silly crouched down in his two-piece suit. You're dressed formally, though the two of you were in different financial brackets. Jeong-Hyun does not speak. The pinkish scar that runs across his neck peeks from the collar of his button-up. It has your toes curling just imagining what had caused it.

He nudges the plastic bag your way, and you cautiously take it from him. To your surprise, he squishes his eyes into crescent moons, and despite his scarred cheek lifting from behind the black surgical mask he wore he looked so...innocent.

The rounded shape of his eyes, the deep crease of his eyelid, and his brows - it all makes him look boyish.

You turn your attention to the strips of expensive beef he had gotten, feeding the poor puppy in silence.

Jeong-Hyun's interest begins with him accompanying your crew as you were tasked to make a show of a traitor. He shoves the blade your way, hilt tilted your way as he connects his gaze with you.

The leader of your crew informs him you are new. He does not even pretend to hear him.

You took the blade, the forged metal heavier than you expected it to be but not impossibly so. It seemed as though it was his favorite, a little longer than a dagger but still small enough to hide under your clothes. Weighing it on your palm, you test the balance of it before gripping it tightly and Jeong-Hyun is entranced by the casual dominance you have over it.

The man before you, on his knees with his cut lip hanging heavily and his eyes so bruised you wonder how he can still see you enough to squeak in fear; he shivers and bows desperately.

"How do you want him, boss?" You glance at him, the grip on the blade strong and confident. He narrows his eyes then closes his eyes, jerking his chin forward.

' However you see fit. '

Jeong-Hyun falls in love with your violence.

Asking for you, always. Giving you food to bring back, giving you new knives and even transferring you to his personal squad of men and women. He'd even invited you into his home. Which, apparently, was not unusual but no one had ever had the pleasure of being able to see the pack of dogs he had.

He starts hanging around you more. His favoritism is hard to mask and it causes you more issues than you'd like to admit.

"You're his little bitch now, huh?" or "His cock tastes good, (Y/N)?"

But who can say no when their boss tells them they want you to follow him around, be his shadow, do nothing more than observe boring meetings and itching for the usual vulgarity of mobsters while you're stood by the wall or behind him?

The madam is not impressed by you. Whenever she speaks to her brother, she will cast a glance filled with nothing more than mild bemusement and disgust.

"Hey, boss," he tilts his head in your direction. You're sat in a barbeque restaurant, and he's watching you intently as you flip the meat, licking his exposed teeth with an almost canine-like attribute.

"...Can I ask you a question?" Jeong-Hyun nods, tearing his eyes away to now look at you. They're almost golden, you think to yourself, the colour of his eyes is so bright.

"Why do you favour me?"

Jeong-Hyung, you come to find out, does not speak. The scar you see peeking from his high collars was apparently a wound that had gone so deep, it took the ability for him to speak comfortably. So Jeong-Hyun signs; "What does that mean?"

"Favour?" You ask and he nods.

"Well, it means, why do you...like me...?"

Jeong-Hyung blinks for a few seconds then tells you to flip the meat. The conversation seemingly ends. That is until you find yourself in his home and he has invited you to his basement.

The dogs bark from behind the doggy gate, a hallway away feeling like a stretch of land as their noises echo. In the basement, you find yourself surrounded by crusted blood and metal. He lifts a dagger and shows it to you. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, it's been weeks since you've held it, but then your brows furrow.

"You kill good. Like me, I like that. I like you," he signs while you hold the dagger. "You like me?" He nods, pulling his black mask away from his face, and grins. It's surreal to see, not exactly grotesque but an unusual sight.

"I like you," he signs.

When his enthusiasm is met with confusion, Jeong-Hyun's face contorts into worry.

He takes the dagger from your hand, places it down, then holds your hands in his. He's tall, towering easily over you as he brings your knuckles to his lips.

He has essentially muted himself. Focusing his strength on keeping your hands hostage as he walks forward until your back meets the smoothed limewash walls of his basement.

"Boss? I'm flattered, but this is a lot to take in....!"

His cloudy eye is in a perpetual squint, healed scars tugging on the skin so it looks almost uncomfortable stretched. They have so much sadness that you feel guilt sprout in you.

'Love me,' they say, 'Love me, love me, lovemelovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme'

Your relationship is dubious. The jeers from your comrades make you feel more flustered than before and Jeong-Hyun is not shy about his affections.

He holds your hands in meetings and traces the shapes of your fingers and joints.

When a snake requires a beheading, Jeong-Hyun takes off your jacket for you and hands you a weapon of his choice. The men who snicker at the sight? Jeong-Hyun is not fond of guns but he so does love it when his sister presses her Beretta to the back of their necks and makes them gasp and sputter.

Madam Seo-Yun may not like you but you matter too much to her little brother for her to allow their insubordinate to make fun of you.

Jeong-Hyun is like a touch-starved puppy. Despite his towering size, he crumbles under your touch, your gaze.

"My brother, he is naive to relationships," Seo-Yun informs you during a lunch meeting. "I noticed, Madam," you shrink under her gaze. How is it she has the same shade of eyes and hers are so, so, so cold?

"But he likes you, favours you I think is the word he used. He has never liked someone before. Not as strongly as this. I suppose I should advise you to take some caution."

"My brother's love comes with a storm of violence. It runs in the family, I'm afraid. Please, don't be frightened by his displays."

You didn't quite understand what she meant.

He'd never been violent to you. You had witnessed him kill before, torture, maim — it was not an unusual sight in your line of work.

You didn't understand until you saw it.

Another funeral, more drinks, more meat. Jeong-Hyun has you beside him, eagerly awaiting your metal chopsticks to place more grilled beef onto his plate.

No one laughs at the sight anymore, they treat you as an extension of Jeong-Hyun which, considering how he monopolies your time, you might as well be. It's rare to see you without him.

But as you got up to wash your hands — someone had spilled their drinks and your hand became sticky — an inebriated man had pressed himself against you.

"You must be a good lay if *hic* Jeong-Hyun-ssi keeps you around, riiight? C'mon, just a quickie, c'mon," "Fuck! Get away from me!"

Jeong-Hyun's hand grabs the back of the man's head, rears it backward, and slams it right into the sink. It shatters, the man yells, people around you scream; but Jeong-Hyun tightens his grip, rears his hand back, and slams him down again.

By the end of that public fiasco, the man's head was obliterated so badly, his face was no longer there. Just shredded skin, muscle, and shattered bone and brain matter.

Madam Seo-Yun's gaze on you is heavy in the car. Jeong-Hyun lumbers in, his hand covered with tissues and you immediately pull the bloody fist to your lap. Approval shines in her eyes as you apply pressure and ask if it hurts.

Well, you couldn't say she didn't warn you now, could you?

[abbyslovergirlxo]

-Bad Idea-

ELLIE WILLIAMS x FEM!READER

What happens when your drunk ex sends you flowers? Who knows. But regardless, anyone would agree it’s a pretty bad idea.

tw; moping, terrible drunk decisions, slight smut (if you squint), cursing

—————————————————————————

“shit shit shit— oh my fucking— shit!”

Ellie had tried to wipe her eyes in a desperate repetition. But when her bank statements kept reading;

TRANSACTIONS

3/7/2023 Saturday: — 62.75 FROM; Flowers and Friends

It was hard to not accept the facts. Ellie could typically hold her liquor, but as of late she wasn’t herself. You and Ellie had been broken up for two months and she had deluded herself into thinking it left her mind. But whenever a touch of liquor or weed hit her system, suddenly she was missing you so bad that she couldn’t help herself from getting out of hand. Case in point being, her spending over 60 dollars while trashed to send to your doorstep.

She called the company a multitude off times, always receiving the same frustrating answer.

“Sorry ma’am, cancellations are not prohibited after the 12 hour order mark.”

Ellie cursed herself for over sleeping with a pounding hangover. Maybe if she woke up a couple hours earlier she could’ve saved herself eternal embarrassment. At least that was until she remembered that the only way you’d know if it was her if there was a note. She was cross faded out of her mind, no way she wrote anything that wasn’t gibberish, if she wrote anything at all.

“Wait! Was there a note attached or anything?”

“One second ma’am— let me just look right here… right, okay. Yes there’s a note attached.”

Ellie cursed silently into the air. She took a deep breath and looked up to the sky in a phantom type of prayer.

“Could you tell me what it says?”

“Absolutely. It says ‘Miss you so much baby. I can’t stop thinking about you and your nose. Your nose is so fucking pretty. And your hair. And just you. You’re so pretty. Please talk to me. Please please just talk to me. These flowers reminded me of you. They’re so pretty. I miss being inside of you. I miss us so mu—‘. Um…yeah. That’s pretty much it. It seems like you ran out of room to type.”

She was going to die. She was truly going to die. Ellie was grateful with how calm the customer service worker was. This probably was no doubt her most indecent moment and she couldn’t handle it if the lady on the phone was laughing at her.

Ellie gripped her phone till her knuckles turned a hued white, she was so fucking angry at herself. She was the one who broke up with you and her she was, going crazy.

“Do you have an estimation of when the flowers will arrive?”

“…Says around 2 pm.”

She didn’t even bother with a thank you as she ended the phone call. It was 1:45. You lived 20 minutes away. It would be close but it’d be better than doing nothing.

She swiped her eyes off her nightstand and was in her car before she could even blink.

After an almost car accident, two people flipping her off, and cutting people off, Ellie had finally made it to your apartment. She stomped her way up the steps that led to the second floor. Her lungs were practically screaming at her but she was so close.

2:03 pm.

Her breath got caught as she saw that familiar door mat. She had wiped her black converses on it a million times, a sort of tradition wether or not her shoes needed it. Made her feel like she was at home, her way of marking her territory. That bright yellow doormat with the corny quote that Ellie had clowned you for too many times.

“ Bee My Guest! 🐝 “

She had gotten so lost at just the sight of your front door that she hadn’t noticed the bouquet of flowers next to it. Quite a large one as well. If she hadn’t been a nervous wreck, she would’ve admired her taste. The flowers were gorgeous and she wanted nothing more than to give them to you. But she knew it wouldn’t be right and it’d be wrong. It had been months, why do something like this now?

With a sudden slowness she walked over to your front door, picking up the flowers and frowning. She had wished this were under different circumstances. That this was her on a random weekday, turning up to see you. Surprising you with flowers and soft kiss.

But that wasn’t the case. And she had gotten carried away at the idea of you. With a shake of her head, she checked the time.

2:14

Eleven minutes of admiring you literal door. Yeah, it was time to go.

“Ellie?”

Her head whipped up that sound. That sound she had been yearning to hear for literal months. She had spent many night looking over videos of you, hearing the way you spoke. It never beat the real thing, clearly.

She didn’t move, just staring at you with your pink tote bag and white sundress. She didn’t miss the way your bra was doing wonders for your chest. Fuck, was she looking?

“Um…”

You raised your brow, observing the sight infront of you. Your ex-girlfriend with a black graphic tee, green boy shorts and her favorite converses. Her hair had gotten longer but nonetheless still pulled into that familiar bun. She looked…good. You could tell she was hungover, you had been with her for too long to not know. But still she looked good, she always did.

But seeing your ex at your front door wasn’t the strangest thing, it was her holding a bouquet of flowers. This wasn’t what you expected to come home to after buying a book from your local Barnes and Nobles.

You should be pissed, sad or annoyed. But you were none of those. You wanted to be. But you had missed her. All you could feel was that familiar need for her and a touch of confusion.

“Did someone die?”

“Yes.”

Not her best lie, and after seeing your look of concern she couldn’t handle it.

“Sorry, no. Nobody died. I just— I didn’t mean to come here.”

“Oh…okay. Be safe on the way back?”

You shuffled towards your front door, brushing past her. This was so awkward and you felt ridiculous for actually thinking she came here for you. It was obvious she did, who shows up at their exes apartment complex with flowers? But clearly she didn’t want you enough to admit it. And that hurt more than you wanted it to.

With a silent curse you finally managed to get your key out of your bag. You appreciated it for all the space but it felt like you were digging through a damn vast hole whenever you needed something.

Before you could even open your door, you felt a hand on your shoulder making you look back.

“I missed you. Well I mean that I— I miss you. Now. I’ve missed you for a while. I hope that’s okay. I wish…we were okay.”

She was nervous. You tell by the way she bit down on her lip and her thumb fiddled with her ring. You were too. And you looked down at her hand, feeling sheepish about how warm it was on your skin.

It took no time for her to notice before she yanked it back. You frowned a little.

“Ellie why’d you come here? And with… flowers?”

She sighed a little, contemplating wether or not to save her dignity and leave. Pretend she never proclaimed her persistence of missing you and block you, or she could just be a human and talk to you. She had showed up like this unannounced and the least you deserved was an explanation. She didn’t want you to always wonder what could’ve happened.

“Can I come in?”

……………………….……………………….………………

“Didn’t we talk about getting cross faded? Mixing drugs and alcohol is not good for you Ellie.”

“That’s what you got from all of that…”

“Well that, and the fact you only miss me when you’re not sober.”

“That’s not— I always miss you. I just don’t know how to control it when I’m not sober. Exactly why I ordered these flowers last night.”

You grinned a little, finding it all a little funny. When she first came into your apartment that reeked of brown sugar and vanilla, it was as awkward as one would expect.

But you and her had been together for 3 years before you broke up. As her story strung out and you gave a her a cup of peppermint tea, the tension slowly evaporated.

“Right…and you did all of this just to still get caught with the flowers. Honestly Els, it would’ve been less embarrassing if I had just seen them on my doorstep.”

Ellie shifted on your white couch at the sound of the nickname. She hadn’t heard it in forever and it made her want you even more. She wasn’t even sure where this conversation was headed but she knew she didn’t want it to end.

“The note though. Would’ve given me away in a heartbeat, and I’d probably never show my face again.”

She let out a laugh at the thought. You furrowed your brows and put down your minions mug to stare at her.

“What note?”

You caught she sudden panic in her face. Ellie had purposefully left out the embarrassing note she had left on the flowers and didn’t plan on saying anything about them. The flowers now sat on your glass coffee table right next to the pink coasters.

“Note? Shit I’m probably just mixing things up. This teas like really good, you got anymore?”

You looked at Ellies nervous smile and then at the flowers. She looked at you and then back the flowers. Then you both locked eyes again. Her eyes squinted into a silent plea of ‘don’t do it.’

As if she knew you’d still do it she reached towards the flowers at the same time you did but to her horror you plucked the note card before she could stop you. You ran towards your kitchen, getting behind the island while scrambling to rip the paper out of the envelope.

Ellie didn’t hesitate to run offer you but she couldn’t quite get you with you way you kept leaping around the kitchen island just far away enough so she could grab you.

“Okay okay y/n. Let’s just talk about this? The note is just gibberish. I was drunk out of my mind and it’s just random stuff jumbled on there. It’s just so stupid. Please just—“

She reached her arm out to grab you which you dodged and moved in the opposite direction against the marble island corner.

“Give it to me. Please.”

“You’re rambling, you’re nervous.”

“Okay Sherlock, just hand me the note.”

With a quick, “nope” , you looked at the flower embroidered card and began to read out-loud.

“Miss you so much baby. I can’t stop thinking about you and your nose— really Ellie? My nose?”

She groaned as you managed to dodge her again.

“To be fair, it’s a very nice nose.”

“Uh huh… ‘And your hair. And just you. You’re so pretty. Please talk to me. Please please just talk to me. These flowers reminded me—“

“Wait! If you put the card down I’ll give you a weeks worth of weed. You know I have the best dealer and I promise you if you just give me the card I’ll swing by later and give you some. Please y/n I am literally begg—“

“Hush. I already buy from your dealer, I stole their number from your phone after that one time you smoked me out in Jersey.”

“Wait what the fuck?”

“These flowers reminded me of you. They’re so pretty. I miss being inside of you. I miss us so much?”

Ellie’s head was thrown down in a storm of shame. This was much more embarrassing than hearing the lady on the phone say it. Not to mention the way you impersonated Ellie’s voice while you said it. She was feeling like a little bitch and she even felt slightly betrayed. When the fuck was Mick going to tell her that he was selling you weed? She made a mental note to murder him and another mental note to never see you again.

“Fuck this is so embarrassing.”

After your laughter died down, you looked over the words again. Letting it all sink in. It was funny, you couldn’t lie about that.

But it was also a bit sad. You missed moments like these, with you and Ellie joking around. You missed her making you laugh and grabbing your waist from behind while you cooking in that very kitchen. The way she used to beg you to make that peppermint tea whenever she got off of work.

And she did say she had missed you, but was that enough? What even was this? Were you guys going to become friends? Get some closure and never see each other again? Or was there something more? Was it going to be Ellie and Y/n again? Or was it just you hoping that it’d be more?

The questions racked your brain. And your mood dropped quicker than you’d liked. Ellie now looked up at you after noticing your laughter swelter.

“Shit babe are y—fuck sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, it’s just…I don’t know.”

“Ellie…what do you want out of this?”

“I—“

“You broke up with me. I thought that you didn’t want me anymore. Do you even want me anymore?”

“I want you so much I can’t even fathom it.”

“What do you want out of this?” You repeated your question.

“I don’t know… what do you want?”

“No, don’t do that. Don’t leave it up to me Ellie. That’s not fair.”

She shook her head as she moved near you, this time you didn’t move back. Allowing her to pull at your dress.

“I’m not trying to be unfair y/n. I just don’t want to say the wrong thing. I want whatever you want.”

“You broke up with me…”

“I know…I’m so sorry.”

You pushed her hand away from your dress gently. She was too close and it was making your mind jumbled.

“Look Ellie. I’ve missed you to. Too much. And I don’t want you to say something and not mean it. I don’t want you to feel cornered into caring about me.”

“I could never stop caring about you. I never stopped y/n.”

You stayed silent, getting suddenly scared at how real this all was. No matter which way this went it would be a drastic change. If she left and never saw you again you’d have to deal with a second heartbreak. If she wanted to be friends you knew you’d say yes and have to see her too much for your own comfort.

And if she wanted to get back together…well that was a monster all on its own.

“What do you want out of this Ellie?”

From your tone of voice, and it being the third time you said it, Ellie knew she had to give a definitive answer now. You deserved that. She didn’t deserve you, but she wanted to.

“I want you. I want us. I’ll be so good to you, I promise.”

You looked at her with pouty face. This was all you wanted to hear for the past couple of months and you finally got it. You didn’t want to get hurt again.

She met your eyes and tried to communicate with just those.

You remained silent. To which, she gripped the waist area of your dress fabric to bring you closer. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a hug making you sigh into her neck.

She rubbed palmed circles onto your back.

“You want us back together?”

You nodded into her cologned skin.

“Yeah?”

You whispered out a soft, “Yes Els. I want us.”

She grinned into your hair, this was the first time one of her bad ideas turned into something good. But as she smelled that familiar coconut shampoo in your hair, she knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was fucking amazing idea.

She kissed your forehead.

“I really meant it when I wrote that I miss being inside of you.”

You whined a little, “Show me, Els.”

[pforestsims]

Tag search:

# Buymode stuff 

# Lights

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# Decor items

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# Defaults - TS2 Clothing Tweaks

# Custom TS2 Clothing Tweaks

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My SFS Folders :

🪴 Decor 🪑 Furniture 💡 Lights ‍🎨 Recolours

Other:  ⚙️ TS2 Defaults 👚CAS Defaults CAS stuff 👱🏽 Just hair | creator resources

All my old MTS2 uploads (if something's not there, it's on SFS already)

👾 If you’re curious what other games I’m playing here's this almost empty blog.

❕ I create CC for The Sims 2 only. I don't do requests but I'm ok with receiving CC suggestions / ideas (for TS2).

📣 Updates:

04.11.2024

Edited Round Wall Lamp from G&B set, light settings switched from white to yellowish.

01.11.2024 05.11.2024

Updated my edit of Trait Chemistry Mod, fixed Lua script issues so Alien TO and Facial hair TO work properly - update 2 fixed some issues from the first update.

Download (SFS) , (BOX)

03.10.2024

My ko-fi account's up.

30.06.2024

I've shared updated versions of ceiling lamps from my Lamp Collection - lamp canopies are not hidden in the ceiling anymore /Note to ppl playing on Mac: most of these edits are not mac-compatible.

25.06.2024

Fixed outdoor square shadows for my Wicker Lantern Set . Download (SFS)

21.05.2024

Fixed missing texture in 'TightDressMidiSlit' repo recolor number 10. Download (SFS)

07.05.2024

Finally fixed the Bar Surface OMSP I shared along Wedding Bar Default. Please note it's basically a new object but with the same GUID so if you have old version in the game, the objects placed on that one will disappear Download (SFS)

Updated NonSlip Bar Mat mesh included with Bar Decor Set, now it can be placed on all surfaces. Download (SFS)

More recent updates below the cut:

08.04.2024 - Bar worktop OMSP was edited and now it doesn't block bar functions, I also added second (1 slot) bar OMSP for the lower shelf.

07.04.2024 - Edited Deco guitar floor stand - now it can be placed on surfaces without moveObjects cheat.

26.03.24 - Updated Toast Flute Default - now glasses are already half-full when Sims toast at the table.

11.03.24 - Fixed EM grey repo recolor 01 for 4t2 Dogsill Amari hair. Here's only the fixed file: (SFS), and here's all of it (SFS)

10.03.24 - Night time Decorative fireflies effect is now available - fireflies only show up at night.

09.03.24 - RDN Sleeping bag edit was made compatible with ACR.

27.02.24 - Another update of Bamboo Sconce (Tropical Lamp add-on). When I fixed the shadow I shared some half-assed version of it ?? Now it has warm light color, correct price and description. Download HERE (SFS)

30.11.23 - Updated LL Billie hair recolors, these are now enabled for all clothing categories

12.11.23 - I've updated witch hat & LL Luanne hair combo recolors so those should be now flagged as hats and disabled for Townies

11.11.23 - Updated Restored Car Paint Colors default, Added Finnish, Norwegian and Portuguese/ Brasilian-Portuguese translations

31.10.23 - Updated Bowling Alley defaults, all files are now separate. Added smoother bowling ball

14.07.23 - corrected shoe sound effects for my Long Dress recolours - changed it from heels to normal shoes

10.08.23 - Fixed blue shadow in Bamboo Sconce (Tropical Lamp add-on.

*If you use RPC you probably haven't experienced the blue shadow flashing but I recommend you update the sconce package anyway.

Old updates list is HERE<<

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I swear every single time I leave your blog for a few days I come back to madness and now it’s Eddie with triplet girls?? Since you’ve caused emotional distress I think it’s only right you give us some conversations with Eddie when the reader is pregnant with the girls😭😭😭

Hiiii babes! Haha I am so sorry you had to come back to Triplet Dad Eddie😂 I will gladly do this for you since I caused you some distress lol enjoy babes!!💖

*Eddie is freaking out and has one thing on his mind…he needs three of everything.*

“I’m sorry you said what now?” “We are having triplets…” “triplets…that sounds like it’s more than one…” “yes Eddie it’s three.” “Three…three little tiny things are just…hanging out in your stomach right now?” “Don’t call them things Edward that’s fucking rude.” “Sorry sorry baby I’m just…” “in shock? I know. Welcome to the club.” “Jesus…three…babies.” “Munson party of two is now Munson party of five.” “Holy fucking shit.”

“Just because they are girls Eddie doesn’t mean everything has to be pink.” “Tell that to Wayne baby it’s not me buying everything in pink and white.” “He’s excited to be a grandpa isn’t he?” “Oh he’s told everyone in Hawkins and has their ultrasound photos in his wallet.” “He’s gonna spoil them rotten.” “Without a doubt.” “Did he buy these pink dresses with white flowers all over them?” “Yup dropped them off this afternoon.” “They are size 2T…” “he said something about they can grow into them.” “You think he’d listen if I tell him they don’t need anymore clothes so he doesn’t need to buy anything else?” “You’d have a better chance at getting Harrington a date than Wayne agreeing to not buy anymore shit for the girls.”

“We need three of those right?” “I don’t think so. It’s just a play mat. They can all be on it at one time.” “We need three cribs and diaper changing things though?” “Three cribs yes but I think sharing one diaper changing thing would be fine?” “What if all of them need changed at the same time?” “Then they can be changed on the floor? They won’t care.” “We can’t show favorites right out of the womb baby. The one who gets changed on the diaper thing will feel superior to her sisters.” “Eddie…they won’t remember. Trust me.” “Let’s just get three.” “They already have you wrapped around their little fingers and they aren’t even here yet.” “I’m choosing to ignore that. Now what about high chairs? Three of those too?” “We don’t need those right now we have time to get those.” “Three bouncers for sure I hear those things are great.” “Yeah we will want three of those.” “How the hell are we gonna have three car seats in one car? The van doesn’t even have backseats…” “uh the van was never an option they will fit in my car don’t worry.” “All of them? Just like in a row?” “Yes in a row.” “Do they make a stroller big enough for triplets? Or do we have to like get one custom made?” “Eddie…honey I need you to take a few deep breaths okay? It’s going to be okay we don’t need all these things right now we have time okay?” “Okay…yeah…okay you’re right we are fine right now…I’m fine.” “I love you.” “I love you too sweetheart.”

“Oh wow is that a foot?” “I think so? Could be a hand.” “They just kick you like that all day?” “Not all day mainly after I eat they get all excited.” “Oh that felt like a foot.” “Probably…here put your hand right here…feel that?” “What the hell is that?” “I think it’s one their heads but…then again I’m not sure.” “How are you not sure?” “I can’t see what’s going on in there Eddie I don’t have X-ray vision you dingus.” “Oh right…it’s just crazy how much is going on in there.” “Right? Like there’s three little girls just wiggling around in there…” “so…we are like good right? After this?” “Are you asking if I want more kids?” “Yeah because I’m gonna be honest with you baby I’m terrified it’ll be triplets again and I…don’t know if I can handle that…” “you’re so dramatic the odds of us having triplets again is super rare.” “So were the odds of us having triplets this time…” “true…but yeah I think three is good we can revisit in a few years and see how we feel.” “Okay…I’m fine with that.” “Ohh did you feel that? That had to be a hand.” “She didn’t like us talking about having other babies I guess.” “Yup she’s a Munson…using her hands to get her point across.” “Just like her mother.” “Don’t be rude Eddie.”

[dollsonmain]

omg

Another chaotic day, but chaotic in a different way.

She added even more tasks to my morning which I don't appreciate. I already struggle to get anything done.

Right when I discovered that the reason the floor in the cooler has been sticky is because someone spilled a whole gallon of milk in there and never told anyone, which of course I was told to clean up because I work there, and it was horrible because it already was stinky and clumpy, and I only had like 20 minutes left before it was time to go, a customer dropped a Monster and it exploded covering two whole panels of products.

The milk spill was in THE most inconvenient place in that furniture will have to be moved, the 20 foot floor mat will have to be pulled out and hosed down, then let to dry, and I physically just fucking can't especially in only a half an hour.

And the Monster Mangler was so sorry. He was like "Um..... I'll pay for that uh..." and I was like "Nah, man, that sort of thing happens." He didn't break anything, he just made everything sticky.

Then she gave me Tasks and I tried to find the sausage patties, looked right at the box, and didn't see it because it was well past Eat Time but I didn't get eat time because I was only scheduled 5 hours today, and both my blood sugar and pressure were dropping and I saw something entirely different in that box. I saw bread rolls.

I'm actually still not convinced that box isn't full of bread rolls.

So I don't know.

And like... The whole cooler needs to be dumped out and hosed down. It's disgusting in there. There's stinky milk, there's mold, there's soda spilled, there's Monster...

And she's like Ok do Task when I had like 10 minutes left which is when I should be counting my drawer and doing my dishes, and Task, which I guess I'm the official sandwich maker now and I do not like that I hate making food and it's such a pain because I have to take the gloves on and off to ring up customers and I get stuck in the gloves because my hands sweat.

I think I need to take some simple cotton gloves to wear under the work gloves maybe. I do have a bunch of those somewhere.

And it's just the same shit you can buy at Walmart and put together yourself and you're just paying like 400%. Because I made it.

Like....

You get one sub roll, 3 thin slices of cheap turkey sandwich meat, and 2 slices of even cheaper American cheese for $5.

The "Cold Cut Sub" is literally a sub roll, 2 slices of Oscar Mayer Bologna, and 2 slices of American cheese.

...

And I just.... I hate making this shit.

But that's apparently my job, now, even though I didn't retake the food handler's course and didn't apply for sandwich lady.

It was already half an hour past when I was supposed to leave, and I still had to tally my drawer, which I couldn't because I couldn't count anymore, because the sugar.

And I also don't get to pee which is bad because of my kidneys. Which is isn't that I'm not allowed to go pee it's just that I don't get a chance. I'm the only one on the floor. So it'd been from about 5:30 since That Guy was able to drive me to work this morning, until like.... noon, until I got to pee and that didn't smell great which is a bad sign. I have to monitor the smell of my pee for kidney infection smells.

I'm chugging water rn to flush everything out.

And it EXTRA sucks because I wanted to go to town this weekend to go to Goodwill and get a keychain bracelet thing or a lanyard for the store key so I can better keep track of it until I give it back to Manager when she gets back from her trip week after next, but I can't do that because That Guy took the car for the weekend. He'll be home Sunday.

So.

I can't do that until Sunday evening or Monday after work at least.

I have fewer hours next week. I guess in case no one else is in the store to give me a chance to go eat at lunch time. Manager said her sister will try to be there when I get there in the morning but there's no guarantee, and the way she's setting things up it sounds like she half expects her sister to not show up at all. Their dad, the owner, tends to show up around my lunch time but doesn't get on the floor. He does admin stuff in the office while he has his breakfast.

Multiple of my fingernails split so I have to cut them all off again.

I'm so.

I'm

tired

[flowerwrites06]

lion and the fox VI — jjk

Plot: In a turbulent world of crime and intrigue, a fiery journalist makes an unlikely alliance with one of the country’s most notorious bosses. Pairing(s): Mafia Boss!Jungkook x Journalist!OC (Name: Belle) Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+ Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series Word Count: 2k+ Genre: Mafia AU | Vintage (1940′s vibes) AU Tags & Warnings: crime, violence, explicit sexual content, forced prostitution, mild scenes of harassment, some misogynistic behaviour, mentions of a war, heavy mentions of drug use, infidelity. Authors Note: hope you enjoy this new chapter!  Disclaimer: Please note that while some historical research has been done for this story, the MAJORITY of it has been altered in some way with creative liberties to match the themes and motifs of the plot.

When the night darkened, Belle packed up her things at work and made her way into her car. Things had gotten quiet in the underground after the divorce. And her slip-up with Jungkook had her staying far away unless she was needed. Belle had no intentions of hiding what his father did to her family but it still felt wrong. Her skin felt raw and bruised. The worst part was it was easy to speak to him, be angry at him and show the ugly parts of her without needing poise or control.

She needed to fix that quickly.

Belle stopped at the door of her car. Everyone had already left and it was just her and Hoseok. Hoseok already stepped inside but Belle’s eyes flickered at movement near the curb.

“You okay?” Hoseok asked.

Belle didn’t answer. She saw people in a car. Spies, panic ensued.

But no. It was Hansuke. Usually he did stay back but always stuck in his office. His office had been locked. Supposedly to give the impression that he was busy working. Instead her boss sat in his car with a woman, her hair blonde and dress made from fine silk.

The face was familiar. Angel.

Hansuke was no innocent person. He spent all his years staying at Jungkook’s feet but this. . .this was not really obscene. Belle had probably done just as bad to actual families. No this was evidence. Evidence Seokjin could use against them. If Hansuke cavorted himself in brothels then his affiliation with Jungkook will be questioned. Jungkook will be questioned.

Belle climbed into the car in a rush as soon as Angel dipped her head between Hansuke’s legs.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asked. “What did you see?”

“We might have a problem.”

-

Belle travelled to Cho No Su the next day, her thigh prickling from memory. Hoseok had been adamant on her painkillers and despite the frustration to just steal them, the dependence subsided with a lot more ease. Though now as she stood in the establishment where the attack happened, one painkiller wouldn’t have hurt.

She tried to go through similar motions of a customer. High in the daylight, there weren’t many people around. Belle made sure to look for the features as closely as possible and found Angel on the listing.

The receptionist made her wait. Then called her into a room.

Except amongst the silken mats and incense, it wasn’t Angel but a woman with orange hair and a golden black katana on the floor next to her. Kim Hyuna, the Madame. “I know you mean well but I can’t let you see Angel without some questions.”

Belle walked inside and sat at the floor table. “Go on.”

“My workers are not to be harmed in this cat and mouse chase of yours. If you are to get information from her, you guarantee her safety to me.” Hyuna gripped onto the hilt. “And I mean a clear guarantee.”

Belle nodded and pulled out a piece of paper. A plan written on it. “This is what’s going to happen.”

Hyuna looked confused for a moment. The writing was messy, created overnight but she knew it would work. As Hyuna read it, she seemed to think the same as her expression softened. Then she laughed. “You’d be a good Madame. Ever considered it?”

“I prefer journalism.”

Hyuna hummed with a smile and burned the paper to protect it. “Kim Namjoon.”

The name was familiar. Yet Belle had never dove into his background too deeply. He was a Korean boss who garnered his success in Shanghai and created his connections from there. But why him?

“You’ll find aide there for your. . .little predicament. He’s had history with Seokjin before. Bad history. Ripe for the picking.” Hyuna smirked before knocking on the door.

The door opened to Angel. “You get the usual hour.”

Angel smiled and perched in front of her as if Belle really were a real paying customer. “What did you need me to do, Ms. Sol?”

“Please, relax.” Belle gestured. “You have a history with the assassin who came here.”

Shock spread across Angel’s features. “Assassin?” So she did know him. But not fully, it seemed.

“I’m afraid so.” Belle nodded, giving an apologetic look. “He was responsible for the attacks that happened on your fellow workers.”

Angel took a deep breath. “Taehyung.” Her eyes began glossed with tears, fingers shaking. “I had a feeling something was wrong but—”

“We don’t always choose where we end up,” Belle said. The bruised truth behind it cut through her a little too deeply. What would her father say if he saw her working with Jungkook? Feeling things for him?

Angel’s expression softened and nodded in understanding. “What can I do to help?”

Belle leaned forward, pushing the tar-like dread that filled her chest. “Listen to me very carefully. We can’t have any mistakes.”

-

Angel saw Taehyung in his old home. The run-down ancient thing plastered with so many memories deep at the outskirts where nature had consumed it. It was their old house for a while. A small time but lovely and beautiful. It was also the only location Holangi Pa would never recognize.

Angel dusted away some of the debris from the old kitchen counter. She saw the engraving made of their names. Her actual name. Anantheia. Their parents hadn’t always been in the underworld. They were regular people at one point but resorted to crimes and gangs to get by. Taehyung and Angel thought. Hoped. Maybe if they ran into this old run-down place and built a life, things would be okay.

But Japanese gangs were running amok in the whole country, scouring every inch to get rid of any Korean influence. As young people do, they took shelter in the largest wing they could find. Korean gangs that were still powerful enough to put their foot down. Angel found Kim Hyuna giving protection in her brothel while Taehyung had clearly chosen assassin work. It wasn’t pretty but it was survival.

Taehyung walked through the rickety door, pulling Angel out of her trance. His face twisted in fear. “What happened? Did someone find you out?”

Angel shook her head, padding closer to him. “I have a way for both of us to get out of here.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. A vision of the old Taeyhung peeking through. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Angel kept her voice low as if someone were to rip them away from this place at any moment. Delipidated but precious. “But you need to do something. They need information.”

Dark brows furrowed. “What kind of information?”

“On Holangi Pa. Their weak point, anything. If we get them that information, we can leave.”

“How can you guarantee this?” He asked.

“This person saved my life.” It took a while for Angel to fully realise but she would forever be grateful. It had been a while, not since Kim Hyuna, that someone valued her life. “They’re the reason you had to come back and—finish the job.” Her heart twisted.

“Theia. . .” Taehyung rubbed her arms. “If I’d known—”

“It’s okay.” Angel cupped his cheek. We don’t choose where we end up. “But they are here to help. I promise.”

Taehyung thought on it for a while. Eyes twisted and skin creased, battling his loyalty for the gang and what he wanted right here. In this moment. Then with a hardened expression, he spoke. “The teahouses. They’re his main source of income. It’s how he was able to get Akira’s family to agree to a marriage. If you weaken that part, it’s only a matter of time everything topples.”

Angel smiled. “We’ll meet here again later, okay?

“Be careful.” Taehyung traced his thumb across her chin, standing close. His hands shook from being gentle. Soft. But Angel didn’t pull away, nudging her nose against his. “I missed you.”

She leaned in to kiss him. It was the loveliest thing Taehyung experienced in years. The memory of her lips that had become so distant now burst into fresh bitten sweetness. This was worth the sacrifice.

-

“Teahouses,” Jungkook mused. They sat together in his office as the sunset blushed through the windows. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Belle still kept her posture professional, standing and wearing her yellow work dress with puffed sleeves that cinched at the wrists. Her arms crossed.

“Courtesans get paid thousands more than prostitutes. Not to mention the better reputation, easier to show off in high profile occasions.” Rosyne waved her hand, her deep berry lips pursed.

“Peace and Honey is one of the more popular establishments,” Belle said, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze and focusing on Rosyne. “Aside from the courtesans, teahouses have intense rules of etiquette and privacy. Enough to make any deal whatsoever.”

“Discretion is a form of a power,” Yoongi said, tapping his cigarette at the window sill.

“That’s all great but teahouses are painstakingly expensive,” Rosyne said. “We could buy off the indentures for the courtesans to undermine Seokjin’s income. But that needs finance from us. A lot of our finance came from Hebi Pa.”

“That’s why we need an alliance,” Belle said as she brought a thick file and quickly placed it on Jungkook’s desk. Her eyes only focused on the veins of his hands as she opened the pages to Namjoon’s general information.

She felt his gaze burn into her but thankfully, Jungkook focused on the title. “Are we that desperate?” He asked.

“So you don’t have a good history with Namjoon either?” Belle asked, looking over at Rosyne and Yoongi for confirmation.

“Namjoon isn’t a huge fan of Korean bosses who took Japanese allies,” Rosyne explained.

“His mother and aunts went through a lot of crap during the war.” Yoongi’s face turned grim and Belle didn’t ask further.

“He’s one of the most powerful Korean bosses that also has connections in Shanghai.” Belle stepped back from the file, letting Jungkook flipped through it with a defeated sigh. “Japanese allies are gonna be hard to find, this is the best we have.”

Jungkook tapped the file for a few moments before closing. “Fine.”

Belle nodded and taking the file back. “He’s coming in from Shanghai next week.”

“I’ll arrange a meeting with him,” Rosyne said.

Jungkook nodded as Belle handed Rosyne the files to get all affairs in order.

Rosyne and Yoongi seemed to leave the office much faster than Belle could get her things packed. It was a brief second. The smallest second that they were alone. And Jungkook noticed it like a hawk.

“Belle. . .” Jungkook kept his voice soft.

“We don’t need to talk about it.” Belle’s word cut harsh, hoping that it would force Jungkook not to be so sweet.

Jungkook stepped closer, his footsteps echoing against the wood until she could feel him at her back. “I don’t want us to leave our conversation at that.”

“You made a deal.” Belle grabbed her purse to her chest, pretending the room wasn’t warm and lovely with him this close. “I’m expecting you to keep to that deal. That’s all.”

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to be my friend,” Jungkook muttered. “But there is a part of me that wants something different.”

Belle should’ve left the room right there and then. Should’ve been angry. Should’ve thrown a drink. Something. But she stayed still. “I won’t be your whore.” It was the only response she could come up with.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Jungkook’s voice turned serious. “You’re not the only one who observes me closely.” He walked close.

His cologne suffused the air around Belle, turning her mad. Stop. Turn away. Belle’s chest rose and fell. Like a snap, Belle lurched for him, pulling for a kiss. Jungkook gripped onto her body, so tight and safe but desperate, yanking at the fabric of her dress.

Jungkook broke the kiss. Belle let out a small whimper from the lack of touch. Something Jungkook didn’t fail to notice as he smirked and grabbed onto her chin. They stared at each other, breathless. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, teasing and taunting. But Belle didn’t care. She wanted to be here, she wanted him to see every part of her.

Jungkook walked over to the door and locked it.

Belle smirked, reaching under her dress and clipping her panties down until they rolled to her ankle.

Jungkook walked over to her, fingers delicately gripping crumpled thin clothing and peeling it off her ankles. Belle tapped her feet up his torso, teasing the buttons of his shirt. Jungkook kissed up her legs, warm and gentle. He spent a longer time over the scar that formed on her thigh, placing the softest presses of his lips before they hovered over her core.

The way her skin tingled could’ve turned her to intoxication. Belle hated how relieving it felt to indulge in her own wants. How her thighs trembled when he placed the first kiss on her exposed core. Then devoured it. A desperate whimper left her lips, hand buried in his hair as he moved faster. Unflinching in giving her pleasure until Belle had no choice but let out a choked scream that shook the old wood of the estate.

Jungkook latched off her then, glistening lips stretched into a satisfied grin.

Belle unbuttoned his shirt as he lifted back onto his feet. Hands scoured the different tattoos peppered on his skin. One of a fox just at his lower belly. She let her fingers trail at the trousers hem.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asked, holding her face in his hands like she was something precious.

“So good.” Belle chuckled with a bliss. She unbuckled his belt, letting his member rest heavily on her palm. Just gently stroking until she heard a trembled sigh emit from his lips.

Jungkook gripped onto her hair, firm enough for a spark in her nerves. Lovely and delicious. He unbuttoned her dress, revealing her black bra. Rough hands caressed over her skin, kissed over the plumpness as Belle guided his length at her entrance. She heard Jungkook’s moans like music in her ear, hot breath down her chest as he slid into her.

Belle hadn’t realised how snug it felt. How long it had been. Except this time it wasn’t under the influence or to get information, it was her and him. Nothing to come between them, at least not now. Belle relished in that thought, biting into his neck as he fucked into her, deep and desperate. “You feel so good,” he whispered.

Belle chuckled softly interrupted by a moan as he moved deeper. “You feel good too.” Her voice became more breathless by the minute. She wanted to say so much more. How she hadn’t felt this good in years. Felt this full and delighted.

Jungkook moved relentlessly, shifting the table, scratching the wood. Belle dizzied at the friction against her clit. He could feel him twitch, panting as he reached his high. The furrow of his brows as he concentrated on rolling to the edge. His thumb rubbed over her clit, focusing as he sped to his climax.

Then a burst. Like sweetness filled her in both own pleasure and Jungkooks’. Belle’s knees melted, holding purely onto Jungkook’s grip as he stayed inside her, letting his seed drip onto the wood.

Jungkook carried her then, making her laugh as he placed both of them onto the couch. They cleaned themselves. Lay together, catching onto their breathing.

“Hansuke is a customer for Cho No Su.” Belle covered her lower half with a blanket.

“I think you’re a workaholic,” Jungkook said.

Belle laughed, patting his chest. “It’s just as good for you.”

Jungkook caressed her hair. “You could get him to pay you more.”

“I actually have a different idea. But I might need your—” Belle tapped her fingers on the fox tattoo. “—connections to get what I need done.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “Were you trying to seduce me into doing this?”

Belle smirked. “Yes, I’ve beguiled you into doing my dirty dealings. Is it working?”

Jungkook laughed. “Kind of.”

Belle leaned in and kissed him. Her face soft and intimate.

“You can come with me to Namjoon. It’d be good to have someone like you next to me.”

That was a big invitation. Belle had been used for missions but for a discussion with a big name like Namjoon. Being by his side like someone important. “Are you going to get me a new dress?” Belle tried to keep it light-hearted even though her heart felt as if it was embraced.

“So I am going to constantly buy you things.” Jungkook grinned.

Belle hummed, nodding with confidence. “I’m thinking a deep blue.”

@outrofenty | If you’d like to be added, please read the guide!

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[daveyfvckingjacobs]

[materialising physically in your home already sat cross-legged on the floor] say more about the mechanics au please

ok ok ok so

I’m thinking something like it’s a garage owned either by weasel or oscar and morris’ father that they all work at (to varying levels of willingness) and were raised around

they tend to get left to their own devices in the workshop on jobs, after long enough doing admin/paperwork for at least someone to realise morris isn’t good at it, oscar hates it and otto used to charge way too much just for fun until he got in trouble with the police for someone to realise it’s best they don’t do that anymore

morris is sort of neutral about the work. he finds the noises of the types of cars they get in often overwhelming, and a lot of the messy jobs (changing oil, greasing, even the gritty hand wash) quite a lot sensory wise. he knows them all inside out though, and could list off part numbers for any number of makes and years off the top of his head far better than the others. usually he’ll be found on a stool somewhere cleaning out parts with spirit or doing the mot checks and cleanings instead of big repair jobs. the easy, repetitive tasks where he can use his hands without gloves that oscar sets him too. he’s much better at identifying problems than oscar or otto, more attuned to the small noises/signs oscar misses and otto doesn’t have the patience to look for

oscar is pretty much the complete opposite of his brother; he loves working in the garage. he loves the physical nature of it, lugging around wheels and tools, all the bolts and screws and dirt. he’s very careless and thus covered in nicks and scrapes and burns from fiddling in too hot engine bays or refusing to lie on the foam mats. most of the time he’s the one underneath the cars, reckless with jacks and axle stands to the point it makes morris nervous. he’s similar to morris in that all of his tools wherever he’s working will be laid out all in arms reach, neat but filthy as he usually takes on big repair jobs and the messier servicing work morris avoids. he’s gets frustrated easily but doesn’t mind, because if he kicks a wheel of hits a spark plug with a spanner they won’t kick or hit back, so it’s a good form of anger relief

otto is equally reckless and also - said with such affection - an idiot when it comes to the work, but a smart idiot. he deals with customers most when they’re working because oscar can’t kept a civil tongue (‘it’s smoking cause the water pipe is just loose it’s literally just fucking steam I swear to fuck-‘). he’s a master at ‘fuck around and see what happens’, offering the most bizarre solutions to issues (specific tools made of cut up other tools, zip ties everywhere or just shake it till it works sort of thing) and more accident prone that oscar, and ten times more messy.

he loves fixing and servicing his own car thats technically all three of theirs because they can’t afford one each - a 1970 dodge challenger because it wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t a classic. it’s scrappy thing, full of haphazard fixes and additions that are totally not road worthy or legal but he does them anyway. oscar works on it too but only when something is broken, while otto takes it apart just for fun and morris is happy to watch him and give ideas

I have a lot of ideas for smaller scenarios based on my experiences I can add but this is v long so I’ll do that later :]

bonus: the image of oscar in a tank top and gloves with overalls tied around his waist covered in oil and dirt and a little bit of sweat. yeah

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish - special chapters

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>Tenko Kitsune<

As every morning, she got up fresh and well rested. Looked at her watch. It was almost 6:00. The perfect time to open the window on a cool summer morning, unfold the mat and stretch spine before the next day, probably full of ups and downs. Did she care? Rather not very much, it will always be somehow! Inhale...exhale...dog with head up...and down...half bow...bend forward...up. She heard the panels clink on the stairs - time to grease them. Sisters got up and walked into the kitchen. She rolled the mat up, put it in the closet, then pulled out a pink t-shirt, fresh underwear, light socks with a rose pattern, and dark work overalls with large pockets. In such an outfit, she appeared in children's bedrooms to wake them up one by one. They slept so sweetly: girls wrapped in quilts, boys dug up, heads in legs. However, time passed relentlessly! They all marched for clothes, only the youngest, Fubuki, rubbing her sleepy eyes, approached her, stretching out hands. She hugged the tiny body to hers to lift it up and walk to get the dress and thin tights. When everyone was ready, they heard a call from the ground floor:

- Breakfast!

Ayame may be tone-deaf, but she could cry so firmly that none of the little ones would dare delay. Although maybe they were just hungry? The dining room smelled deliciously of pancakes. Sweet breakfast! Her favorite! She helped pack lunch boxes, including her own, and when they had all eaten, split up to take the children to school and kindergarten. As soon as the joyful three flew into the arms of the tutors, she headed for the outskirts of Setagaya, to the pushed aside building of not the first youth, which she was renovating step by step, to finally become her dream workshop. Everything she renewed, did according to a plan kept improving. Fortunately, she didn't complain about the lack of customers. They were mostly women, happily accepting her approach to the client. She knew perfectly well what typical "male" workshops and control stations could look like. Yes...that was also planned. A vehicle inspection station...but for that it needed a much more modern place and she wanted to organize one. Meanwhile, it remained a slowly renovated recovered building. She always tried to be nice and helpful to all who came to her with a problem, but especially men often had problems with culture and familiarity.

True, she didn't look like a typical mechanic! A beautiful girl, long red hair, blue eyes, slim figure with strongly distinctive breasts, healthy, painted nails. More suited to a beauty salon or massage parlor, right? Optionally, maybe to the hostess in the car dealership. However, she dreamed of something completely different. She has been stealing keys and screwdrivers since was a child to tinker with grandfather's shed. Father wasn't always happy, because she often made a lot of a mess putting things down, but in the end she put it together and cleaned it up! He wasn't surprised at all when she announced that was going to be an engineer. For this occasion, he bought her own brand new toolbox along with a dream electric impact wrench for changing wheels. Was the only girl in the year, one of the few to pass and the only one with honors. She thought that with such papers, getting a job in the largest car factory was a piece of cake! Badly wrong. The owner looked at her CV and all the documentation from her studies with appreciation, but the project she had been working on for months hadn't even opened. After all, "women don't know much about cars"! He offered the position of a saleswoman, at which she, indignant, gathered her things and left without a word, slamming the door. Returning home, she strayed from the road to sit on the slope overlooking the city and think what to do next. The crazy idea came to her as soon as she turned head at the soothing sound of trees. She saw a shanty, an absolute pile of real estate misfortune...and felt immediately that must have it. She begged father for a solid start-up loan, promising to pay him back soon. In the meantime, she got a part-time job in a yoga studio as an instructor. It was worth making a few papers! In the end, it turned out as she wanted. The only thing missing was finishing the building to fully breathe. Until then, she took every order that appeared, unless the client turned out to be an exceptional rude.

She said goodbye to the woman whose tires were replaced and checked the toe-in, and, finding a temporary break, decided to put her own car on the canal. It would be appropriate to change the oil. Unscrewed the relevant parts, replacing the large bucket beforehand, and let the old fluid drain gently.

- Hello, is anyone here? - heard a call from the vicinity of the entrance to the workshop.

- I'm coming! - shouted back, coming down from the ladder.

She climbed the stairs from under the vehicle. On the doorstep was a tall man with blond hair combed in a pompadour style, wearing a purple jumpsuit and black tabi shoes. His face thinned a bit at the sight of her, but he showed some interest. Frequent reaction from men, used to.

- Heard I find a great mechanic here... - he muttered, definitely trying not to look at her breasts.

- Yes, what's the problem? - she asked, smiling radiantly. - I don't know if I'm SO great, but I'll try to help.

- That's...you, lady? - he stuttered.

- Yes. Soga Shizuka*, owner and only mechanic in this workshop. - she laughed. - You probably didn't expect it, that's understandable.

- Absolutely...er... - he replied confused, then pointed at the vehicle. - My bike is broken and the mechanic who usually fixes it doesn't have time.

- Kawasaki Chopper, EN500? Classic... - she muttered, walking to the machine. - Let's see what's wrong with him...

She reached for the keys he was giving to fire up. It had a problem at the start, but took a closer look as soon as the revs stabilized relatively. She took off a large gauntlet, revealing a tiny hand with long fingers, tipped with turquoise nail polish. Touched the bonnet.

- Behaves as if one of the cylinders has resistance. In addition, something is wrong in the ignition system. - she assessed. - I can arrange it, but won't be ready until tonight.

- And I will not be a problem waiting here? Came quite a long way... - He laughed a little and shook his head a bit. - After all, didn't even introduce myself. Shiba Chiharu.

- Nice to meet you, Shiba-san. Of course it wouldn't be a problem.

>>><<<

He drove through the city, along with several people from the gang when he heard disturbing sounds coming from the engine. They stopped in the parking lot they passed, to check where the problem was. It wasn't looking good. He pushed hair back nervously, sighing heavily, then stuffed hands into the pockets of purple jumpsuit.

- Engine, boss. - one of his subordinates said.

- It turns out... - Chiharu muttered, dialing the mechanic's number. - Do you have time to repair? My bike broke down! Fuck, just today...Okay...

- And what?

- No way. - he grunted nervously.

- Shiba-san... - Suzumoto, the bald guy, interjected. - I hear there's a great mechanic just outside Setagaya. It is not far!

He decided to check, he had nothing to lose, maybe only time. He got on the bike, trying to reach the place as quickly and safely as possible. Before he left, a few more people from the gang spoke up - they heard something, someone recommended it, nothing specific, no precise information, but at least they drew him what to look for. A partially renovated shack on the hill. In fact, the building turned out not to be of the first youth. In places it looked like was falling apart, but on the other hand it was obvious that someone had taken care of it. The walls were reinforced, windows replaced, everything painted with fresh paint... He stopped in front of the entrance and quite hesitantly got off the bike. There was a neat Mazda 6 hatchback on the canal, all silver with a delicate spoiler on the back. The interior looked promising. He had been to many workshops, most of them looked alike, and this one hadn't missed anything either, but it had something that made him ready to trust the people working in here. The problem was, he couldn't see anyone.

- Hello, is anyone here? - he called deeper into the building.

- I'm coming! - he heard a resonant voice coming from under the car.

He was surprised, it sounded like a slightly melancholic girl, not a mechanic. Completely stunned, seeing a woman approaching him. Medium height, fiery red hair tied in a ponytail, a pink t-shirt that definitely ends under the ribs, a little loose overalls with a drooping one harness and large pockets. Despite the heavily built-up work boots and sizeable gloves, he could see that she moved lightly and gracefully. She looked up at him playfully with sparkling blue eyes. The most noticeable, however, was the bulging bust that is hard to find in most slim girls. She smiled friendly, and his voice stuck in his throat.

- I... heard that I will find a great mechanic here... - he finally choked out.

- Yes, what's the problem? - she asked. - I don't know if I'm SO great, but I'll try to help.

He expected to hear "I'm calling" or "dad / brother will be here soon", and she looked like she was speaking deadly seriously. It was hard to pick up and not look at the tight pink blouse at the same time. He swallowed hard.

- That's...you, lady? - he stuttered.

- Yes. Soga Shizuka, owner and only mechanic in this workshop. - she laughed charmingly. - You probably didn't expect it, that's understandable.

- Absolutely...er... - he replied, remembering what he had come for. - My bike is broken and the mechanic who usually fixes it doesn't have time.

- Kawasaki Chopper, EN500? Classic... - she muttered, walking to the machine. - Let's see what's wrong with him...

He hurriedly fished the keys from his pocket and handed it to the girl. She took them gently, then skilfully started the engine. He watched as she watched the operation of the machine with solemnity and great calm. Shiba was in shock! The woman who unmistakably recognized the bike! She had to know at least a little bit. Took off the glove, under which she hid a delicate hand with long nails painted shiny with varnish. He wasn't sure if he could see any tiny patterns on them. The time of the verdict has come.

- Behaves as if one of the cylinders has resistance. In addition, something is wrong in the ignition system. - she assessed. - I can arrange it, but won't be ready until tonight.

- And I will not be a problem waiting here? Drove quite a long way... - he laughed nervously, finally reflecting. - After all, I didn't even introduce myself. Shiba Chiharu.

- Nice to meet you, Shiba-san. Of course it wouldn't be a problem.

She offered a comfortable couch in the office, but he preferred to watch her at work, so reached for a nearby chair. By the way, he was ready to help if she needed a little male support. Only noticed that quiet music was oozing from the speakers somewhere in the background. He was surprised that she took as a male profession. Nevertheless, the rumors of the city were true - she knew her job, skilfully disassembled the engine to look at the cylinders, and even checked a few other things that raised her doubts. Did everything with a smile on her face, as if she were having a great time. He was very impressed.

- This is quite an unusual job for a woman. - he said finally to break the silence. - Aren't you hard sometimes?

- Everyone asks me that! - she laughed heartily, tightening the bolts. - I loved DIY since I was a child, it was destiny. And that's it!

She straightened up after the final shutdown of the engine, brushed some invisible dust off her pants, and looked at him expectantly, keys in hand. He abruptly rose from his chair, knocking it over, and she chuckled at it, covering mouth with glove. He blushed up to ears as he picked up the item being served. Fired up the engine - it fired much faster than before and purred like a kitten. The sound pampered his ears, and the pleasant vibrations made him want a long ride.

- I do not know how it got there, but under one of the cylinders I found a small pebble, was so noisy, scratched the center a little. - she explained. - Lubricated as much as I could, tightened a few other parts, replaced a few gaskets... It shouldn't be a problem anymore.

- Gosh... It's better than ever! - he sighed happily.

- Bought used, right? - she asked, winking.

- How do you know?

- They don't make such motors anymore. Plus, it has a pretty old looking dent on the side, as if someone was putting off action movie chase scenes and driving under a truck! - she laughed. - If you want, you can replace it, just have to order the right part, probably also recovered, but it's worth having your mechanic check the market.

- What if...if I wanted to ask you for a replacement? - he asked uncertainly.

- Just phone. - she replied, taking a tasteful business card from her pants pocket. - We will agree a date as soon as I find a good item.

They settled the bill, and then he drove away toward the setting sun. Felt strange, insecure. As if he didn't want to leave. The somewhat repulsive place contained a very interesting person with a lot of experience and heart for what she was doing. He smirked at the mention of the red pony, then gasped.

He was sitting at home with a mug of coffee, turning his fingers over a business card decorated with a heavily simplified lotus flower pattern cut at the edge. It had been hard for him to focus on anything for several days. Every time he closed his eyes, could see red hair and a smear of grease on her pale cheek. It absolutely didn't bother him, it only added to her charm. It contrasted with an almost milky complexion and ruby lips. It was supposed to be a normal repair, and he was acting like a young man in love! He reached for the phone, tapped one by one numbers on the screen, and after a while he was waiting impatiently for the connection.

- Yes? - he heard after a few beeps.

- Soga-san? This is Chiharu Shiba... - he began.

- Oh, yes, I remember! - she laughed. - You caught me having a lazy Saturday breakfast.

- Oh, sorry...

- No problem. Are you probably calling about parts? - she asked, clearly tapping her long fingernails on the computer keyboard. - Let's see... Yeah... quite a lot of options, but most of them are corroded crap. Oh, I think I found the right one, in good shape. At second hand. Is that fine for you?

- Of course! - he said quickly, surprised. - Could I have a brief message when it comes to you?

- Yes, I'll let you know. - she replied heartily, and he could almost see her smiling.

- So... see you...

- See you soon!

She hung up. Chiharu was still holding the phone to his ear, listening to his own heart beat against his ribs.

>>><<<

As she thought, it arrived very quickly. She also expected the sweet blonde to be pleased with such a quick solution. As soon as she checked the courier, pulled out her phone to text about the package. Thought. She always liked the fair-haired boys, despite the fact that in Japan they appeared as dyed ones. She bit her lip slightly at the thought of how long hadn't been in a relationship with anyone. The last man in her life was Fubuki's father - already thought she found the right one, and when he heard about her pregnancy, said that it was probably not now, it wasn't that... She didn't even regret it, in the end there was nothing. Since then, Shizuka had used male genitalia at night weekend parties rather than looking for someone on a permanent basis.She was disturbed by the roar of a motorbike standing in front of the open garage door. Peeked out from a tiny office with a barely double sofa, a desk with a laptop, and a tiny electric kettle on the windowsill of the last old, slightly crumbling window. He got off the machine, almost falling off it, through a large bouquet of beautiful tea roses in his hands.

- What beautiful flowers! Are you going to your fiancée? - she asked with a smile.

- Oh no, it's for you, Miss... - he muttered a bit confused, lovingly hiding the blush behind the petals. - I didn't think a woman could be such a great mechanic.

- So let's not judge by appearances. - She sighed slightly, picking up the bouquet being served, then headed towards the canteen with the couch.

- In this carton against the wall there is an ordered part. Please check that everything is ok.

She found a tall vase hidden under the desk to quickly pour water into it and spread beautiful flowers inside. An intoxicating scent spread across the room. It was perfect, she loved roses. She left just as the blonde was taking the ordered part out of the bubble wrap.

- Come on, even the color is right! - she laughed sharply. - Should fit...

She was interrupted by the roar of the engine of a sports car with furious red paint. A broad-shouldered guy got out of it, that she wondered how he'd fit behind the wheel. He ruffled his neatly combed blond hair, glistening with blue eyes, Shizuka saw him once... Gaijin**. You could see it right away. He looked like he was bathing in money, but she wondered if it was some kind of cover. She was sensitive to "the rich", because it often turned out that the matter was sewn with thick threads. He approached them, treading firmly with his heavy boots. Despite her suspicions, she smiled as used to greet a potential client.

- I'm looking for the owner... - he muttered, barely glancing at her. - ...of this place.

- Yes, can I help you? - she replied calmly.

- I need an oil change now, the engine is working poorly, there was no time before. - he blurted out hard.

- I'm busy at the moment, you'd have to wait about an hour.

- We don't understand each other, Miss. - he grunted, approaching her. - NOW.

Bull's-eye. The more nervous he got, the more European accent she felt. Hanabi would probably recognize immediately what country the guy comes from. She wasn't in the habit of allowing such treatment in her garage.

- Well, well, buddy, with respect to the woman! - Threw blonde in purple overalls, standing a step in front of her, looking at the newcomer sideways. - Someone lacked culture!

She smiled under her breath. Didn't think he would react like that. Shiba-san was really cute! She approached them, wanting to cool down what the owner of the car intended to use. She caught a hand rushing to her neckline in flight, deftly twisting it, thus turning the man with back to her. He couldn't move, surprised and grounded by his own body.

- I'm sorry, but we are unlikely to get along. - she sighed, leading him out the gate. - Goodbye, you will surely find another mechanic.

She pushed the bulky guy twice her size firmly towards the lush red car. He turned to face her, and she honored him with a hearty smile with a hint of triumph.

- We'll see... - he snapped at her.

She wasn't going to hear what supposed to see. Pulled the lever, lowering the tin door of the workshop with a crack. Darkness fell, rays falling through the windows. She distracted it by turning on the lamps hanging from the ceiling. Sighed heavily as she straightened her voluminous pants.

- Are you okay, Shizuka-chan? - The blond asked agitated, and when he registered what said, he blushed to the tops of his ears.

- All right! - she laughed heartily. - Chiharu-kun...

For a moment he looked as if he hadn't heard, but it was enough for him to burst out laughing too. She pulled on massive leather gloves over slender fingers adorned with turquoise lacquer. Time to replace a few parts!

>>><<<

The bike looked better than after a major renovation, which it received right after the purchase. He wanted it to have its own individual character, to show that it was HIS machine. After all, the Tokkutai gang boss has to present himself! That day, they were betting on the building where Hanayama was making a deal. He hadn't asked for anything for a long time, this time it looked like he wanted to use the size of a gang of motorcyclists to block the nearest streets. The only one left, where Shiba and his most faithful companions stood, at the very entrance to the building. The biggest bull of the underworld should have a suitable road and it was he who decided to guard it. He watched the neighborhood proudly as a gleaming turquoise and black racer sprang out around a bend and onto the exact street. He had seen them, Shiba was sure, and yet motorbike didn't slow down. Shiba wasn't going to dodge, even if he was going to die. The driver in the black suit screeched to a halt and the rear wheel squealed wildly and parked parallelly just below his feet. It boiled in the man. You have to be the last idiot to put on a circus like this!

- Who gave you your driving license?! - he snapped at the motorcyclist. - Watch your ride, dude!

- Gee... I'm sorry... - he heard a rather high voice, muffled with a helmet. - Next time I'll be careful.

Confused, he watched as a storm of loose red hair fell out from under removable hat, framing a pretty face with sparkling blue eyes. He was incredulous, though trying to juxtapose the woman in front of him and the one with the lush pony...he was getting the same person! Had to recover, he was among his people!

- S...Shizuka-chan? - he finally gasped out.

- Oh, you didn't think I was running all day in baggy overalls with a socket wrench in hand, Chiharu-kun! - She laughed pearly, then asked a bit more seriously, puffing lips a little bit and looking from under her almost closed eyelids. - Are you going to stay here a little longer? I cannot take a helmet with me, and it is extremely important to me! I would like to leave him under loving care...of course not for free.

- Er, sure, it will be safe with me! - He blurted out immediately, combing his mane back.

- Oh, that's wonderful! - she threw happy.

Shizuka gave him an exceptionally light, well-built and very aerodynamic helmet, only to reach the zipper at the neck after a while. She was going to undress?! On the street?! Before he could react, heard the clink of teeth. She unbuttoned the jumpsuit to the ankle and emerged from it in a lovely, beige dress speckled with tiny flowers, decorated with a cross tied, imitating a corset. Even motorcycle boots, as it turned out, strongly built-up for a reason, hid semi-transparent high-heeled shoes tied with a tulle ribbon. She lifted the speedseat's seat, where she stowed her purse to tuck the suit into the empty space. She surprised him more and more every moment. She slung the leather strap on shoulder, waving so sweetly at them it almost melted with joy.

- Bye, shopping is waiting!

She walked away briskly, tapping heels and rocking hips rhythmically, incredibly sexy. All she left behind was a cloud of rose perfume, which had just been rising from her neck. He swallowed mechanically.

- Boss...how does the boss know such a beauty? - Suzumoto asked.

- This...this is my new mechanic. - stunned, he muttered in response.

>>><<<

She promised them a weekend shopping trip and kept her word. Happily watched the two dark-haired little angels rummaging between the hangers. A third cherub, red like her, clung to her skirt. Fubuki was like this from birth. She fondly remembered that birth. The little one clung to her at once and wouldn't let go, greedily sucking on her breast. The midwives laughed that the boys are usually "mommy's tits", and here is such a surprise. After shopping, they sat down by the fountain to let the kids play on the small playground in the middle of the mall. She watched the joyful girls, cooperating on the ladders. Their lives often lacked this carefree, so whenever she could, wanted to offer it to them in the highest possible dose.

- Shizuka-chan? We've been seeing a lot lately! - she heard a familiar voice.

A tall man with blond hair combed in pompadour style stood in front of her, this time in a slightly less "gangster" outfit - he chose elegant shoes, dark jeans and a flowery shirt.

- Oh, I guess it is, Chiharu-kun. - she replied with a smile.

She felt a tug of trailing fabric against her lap. The tiny redhead cast a curious glance at the standing man, at the same time demanding her attention.

- Can I get ice cream? - she whispered. - I can?

- Of course, honey. - She replied, handing the banknote to the running older girl. - Just not too much, or your throats will be sore.

She watched them run off to a nearby ice cream shop. Fubuki jumped to pick a flavor while the other two tried to lift her up to see anything.

- Ms. mechanic is a baby-sitter? - Shiba asked, sitting down next to her.

- No no, these three cuties are my daughters. - Threw with a radiant smile.

She saw that surprise on his face a lot, from the beginning, in fact. Could it be that incredible? Is it really so strange that a single mother of three has her own business? Who knows, maybe...

- I must have slightly disturbed your view of me? - she whispered aggressively, still smiling, leaning in slightly. - Maybe you even think I'm slutty and irresponsible? If you want, you can think so. I've always wanted a bunch of kids. I was looking for good stud dogs and found them...and that they were irresponsible assholes was another matter.

- Girls don't have a father?

- No. "I got" chromosomes from two, but I wouldn't call any of them the father of the children. - she answered innocently. - If a man capable of being my partner comes across, I will introduce him to them.

- What if you don't find it or he'll be scared of the kids?

- Hmm...nothing special. - Shizuka threw after a moment of reflection. - I don't need a man to function, I'm a strong and resourceful woman. The only husband I can consider is support, not the master of the house. If he's scared of my kids, then he's inappropriate.

The girls finally managed to buy delicacies, they sat at the table licking sweet balls. She didn't want them to get hurt. The man they call their father must have been a good man. Another was out of the question. Hyo***, Arashi**** and Fubuki***** were worth the effort.

>>><<<

The sight of his sister-in-law somehow could not leave him, despite the fact that he and his wife were sitting on the leather sofa at home for a long time, sipping slowly non-alcoholic wine. If not for Hanabi, he would not have been persuaded to take this type of drink - red whiskey is a love he didn't talk about...or maybe it just entered the blood and that's it? The red liquid with an extremely fruity aroma tasted completely different, certainly even in the full version it had significantly less percentages than the Wild Turkey. She snuggled against his shoulder as she always did when they had a moment to themselves. He stroked the shaved part of her head with free hand, playing with the single strands that wanted to fall on her forehead. She had already taken off her tie and loosened the collar of red shirt enough to let him see a subtle foretaste of what was hidden under it.

- You called your sister, right? - he asked finally.

- Yes of course. I talked to her shortly after you showed me this "miracle on wheels" - she replied bluntly.

- How is she like?

- How do you feel about her, Kaoru? - She answered the question with a question, looking at him searchingly.

He thought. Didn't really have much to say on that point. Only saw her a few times, they didn't talk often. What could he think of her?

- Seems to be a typical woman, who loves shopping and spending money on herself. - he said, shrugging his shoulders.

- Shizuka has always been quite...phlegmatic, and positive about life. - she laughed. - She looks cute, trendy, but loved to rummage in machines since she was a child, took everything she could apart and folded. Father didn't quite like her adoration because she was making a lot of a mess around her. Mother preferred her to paint her nails instead of playing with grease...

- And Grandpa? - he hinted, remembering the strange old man.

- Grandpa saw a specific potential in her. He trained us in harmony with the circle of life, according to the corresponding elements. I am air, she is water. The...hmm...streamlined fighting styles fit her perfectly.

- Interesting theory.

- Right? Until now, I don't know how he thought it up and fitted it, but it worked! - she replied. - In fact, Shizuka is a pacifist, she doesn't like any kind of violence. "Peace & Love" and these matters. It is enough, however, to properly get her under skin to dig up everything she learned and effectively pacify the opponent.

He tried to imagine such conditions. It didn't fit the offensive version in any way. She was too sweet, delicate and so...maximally stereotypically feminine. He felt a small hand creep under the unbuttoned button of his purple shirt, to his taut shoulder to gently massage it. She wasn't going to let him drift in that direction...

>>><<<

She threw the skirt of a colorful summer dress, turning to the mirror to check the tying of the braid with a woven ribbon wrapped around her head. She finally had time for her weekend getaway. She was going to wander slowly through the drugstores, leafing through nail polishes and fancy bath accessories. Maybe she will find a nice, aromatic sparkling ball? What if a jeweler...? It makes sense to add something new to the casket from time to time. She listened to the cheerful clatter of her own sandals on a high post when she noticed a pair coming from around the corner. He was in a perfectly cut white suit and purple shirt, with raven hair scattered by the wind, she was dressed in light shorts with a row of buttons at each pocket, a coral elegant blouse, with her feet in simple wedge sandals in front of her. Black locks flew slightly against the face. She did not expect to meet sister and her husband! His people were hanging around nearby, as well as...a familiar blond man in purple jumpsuit. She wondered if it was a faux pas if they found out they knew each other.

- Come on, a twist of fate, Hanabi-chan! - she chirped.

- Shopping? - asked the younger one.

- Like every month!

A strong arm caught her in half, and then another, placing massive hand over intricately woven braids prevented her from unfolding the sentence. The touch felt strangely familiar. She hadn't had much contact with it, but the rough, thick skin was like someone she had dealt with recently. She had a glimpse of the corner of her eye as he brought his head close to her shoulder. Apparently he was more interested in her brother-in-law than in her. Blond, fair-eyed, proud expression on his face. She saw Shiba standing behind the young boss's back clenching his fists nervously, bristling all over his body. He also recognized the "owner" of the red sports car. Gaijin.

- I felt like you knew each other...Hanayama... - he muttered, then laughed lowly. - The cutie is going to pay for the last treatment you treated me?

- ...what?... - Hanabi muttered, looking at her husband.

- I didn't accept his challenge a long time ago. - the man replied, unbuttoning the buttons on his jacket.

- And the percentages are rising. - drawled her tormentor, tightening his fingers a bit on the red hair. - It would be a pity to break her neck, she's pretty...

- Sorry, it doesn't seem like a good idea. - she demanded, turning her eyes towards him.

- It's not up to you. - he growled, tilting her head closer to the shoulder.

- Oh, if you say so... - she sighed disapprovingly.

She took a deep breath, then let all the air out of her lungs to compress her body as much as possible, and slip out of iron embrace. The man with a European accent stood completely taken aback. She brushed off her dress gently, then launched a solid roundhouse kick right into the center of his face. He took the full force of the blow, twisted a few dumbbells on the sidewalk, and finally lay flat on his back. She turned and caught the startled glances of the men behind her and her sister's thumbs up.

- Nice! - Hanabi said triumphantly.

- Oh, gentlemen, I am not whipped! Don't mess with the Soga family. - The redhead laughed, and then turned to the slowly rising blonde. - You underestimated your opponent, little boy.

He was staring at her, definitely pissed and eager to retaliate, but a dull crunch of Hanayama's knuckles was enough for him to let go and run down the alley. Shocked, Chiharu stepped forward, apparently wondering what to say. Black-haired girl sensed the situation in flight. She pulled her husband and his men away, waving her goodbye. Shizuka laughed under her breath at the sight. It was amazing how easily Hanabi could get along with a guy like Hanayama.

- Er...Shizuka-chan... - the blond man standing next to her began.

- Yes?

- Would you like to come out to dinner with me? - he asked, blushing slightly. - I know a place where they prepare the best Peking duck.

- Unfortunately it's not good idea... - She replied a bit confused.

- Oh...sure, I understand. You probably don't have time...or something...

- No, no, that's not it! - she laughed. - I just don't eat meat, I'm a vegetarian! But I love tofu ramen!

- Well...let it be ramen! - The man laughed, gallantly letting her go ahead.

______________________

Tenko Kitsune - http://yokai.com/tenko/ ; mine Tenko is dark-blue only because of element (water) which I want her to have;

*Shizuka - [jap.] calm

** gaijin - [ jap.] foreigner

***Hyo - [jap.] hail

****Arashi - [jap.] tempest

*****Fubuki - [jap.] snowstorm

[nightly-echoes]

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[madame-modes-shelter]

starter for @viviskull

Haba’s eyes wander across the room. It is nice that Tia Mode’s place rarely looks the same. Somehow it seems like only Haba herself finds amusement in the fact that the shapeshifter owns a shapeshifting tavern. Even the regulars are seldom purely human. So any new face could be anything, really. And that is exciting. It can be dangerous, but danger is something for the adults to handle. Haba slides from her seat near the window. The outside harbours a rainy city that Haba does not recognise. It seems full of humans and bustling with life. More than one bright red double-decker bus has passed the window in the last five minutes. Even the buses are full of people. And all of them seem to be in their own little world, barely glancing at each other, much less at Madame Mode’s. The few people that detect the little cafe, come in with a gust of cold, wet air. They order with a very clear and pronounced English that Haba has heard a few times, but where it originates from is beyond her knowledge. Fewer of the customers stay for the drink, nearly everything is to go as they need their morning drink before work. It has wound down a bit for now, but the next rush will come soon.

With a loud thump, Haba’s naked feet connect with the floor. It sounds hollow today and the grain of the wood leaves a pronounced tactile impression under her feet. The whole cafe looks wooden today. It has the charm of an old pub. Wooden panel walls, wooden bar, the bar stools have metal parts, but the backrests are, again, wooden. Everything seems to be made from a dark wood. It gives the cafe a dim expression that even the lights right over the bar are unable to brighten up. Haba hopes that at least the floor will stay like this for a while as she traipses to the counter and climbs up a barstool next to one of the regulars. The grey-haired man gives her a wink and tousles her hair, but does not give her any attention, otherwise. Her brother, the barman, has his chin in his hand as he listens to the customer with disinterested amusement. He throws Haba a glance as the other takes a short pause, before he returns his focus on the guest. Accompanied with a decisive wave of his hand, her brother says: “No can do, amigo. Last time I tried to do one of your ideas - as a favour- I might add, the machine was clogged up for days. Blood meal is no coffee grounds.” Haba rolls her eyes. It is all in benign humour, between her brother and the vampire. It is a discussion, an argument, a stage play and it is completely boring to watch. The other takes an offended gasp and starts with an expressive “But!” as Haba slides from the bar stool. 

She waves at her brother and the vampire and exits the barroom through a door behind the bar. A short visit to her room leaves Haba frustrated with nothing to quell her boredom. In the end, she finds herself pacing one of Madame Mode’s many corridors. Random doors get opened to catch a quick peek of whatever place hides behind them. In the beginning, Haba is unsure what kind of place she wants to find. One room has walls that are a mixture out of paper panels and wood. The floor seems to be some straw mats. The other leads to a beach. As Haba inspects the door, a toilet sign is painted onto it. The next one leads into a little kiosk. Outside, heavy rain is falling onto a dirt road. 

Then a dark, starry night sky fills her eyes. In awe, Haba steps through the door. The air is dry and cool. It reminds her of her birthplace, though, checking her surroundings, she is standing on an artificial trash hill on a plane, not a mountain range. Behind her flickers light from an old telephone booth from which she stepped from. The receiver has been ripped off ages ago and the cables are sticking out in the air. Haba clicks her tongue with her hands on her hips at the many, many metal things around her. How unsightly. Then she carefully scrambles down the skeletons of cars, refrigerators, bikes and more. From under a hood a rattle snake hisses at her. For a moment Haba considers taking the snake up on their challenge, but they look like a young one that doesn’t know better. Haba leaves her be, since she knows to be better than that. 

The metal graveyard is surrounded by a wall. It takes her a few minutes to find the exit to a big parking space and a big house with a bigger garage. Kingsmen Mechanics is written on it in big lettering. Even though it is deep in the night, the garage is still lit. Without a sound, Haba walks over the dirt and gravel towards it. The garage houses not many cars right now. One is propped up. But with the exception of a bright orange van, they all seem to rest right now. The van is in the centre of the light source of the garage. Haba hears grunts coming from it as she walks around it. There are two legs sticking out from under it. It looks like there is enough space for the person to get out, but then again, why would they grunt otherwise. “Are you stuck?,” the girl asks the pair of legs.

[dijidweeeb]

1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Custom

Why This Car Is Special

The 1955 Chevrolet (sometimes referred to as '55 Chevy) is an automobile that was made by Chevrolet in 1955. It is considered a huge turning point for the manufacturer and was a major success.

Fast forward to now and you will see this 1955 Chevrolet 150 Resto-Mod we have at Skyway Classics has a semi-truck load of performance and comfort items added to its gleaming orange and tan exterior.

Features

1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Custom

Restored at Custom Classics

355 cubic inch modified small block Chevrolet engine

Polished aluminum intake

Performance carb with the electric choke

Chrome open element air cleaner assembly

Aluminum finned valve covers with red script Chevrolet

Performance fuel plumbing

Modified electronics and distributor

Serpentine belt drive system with billet aluminum pulleys

Power steering and disc power brakes

Vintage Air

Tube headers

3-inch dual exhaust with Flowmaster mufflers

700 R4 automatic transmission with overdrive

Engine and frame both painted and detailed

Tan custom interior

Handsome bucket seat like but bench-seats

Matching rear seat and door panels

Leather-wrapped steering wheel

Custom center console with the chrome shifter and orange shifter ball

Billet aluminum dash with VDO gauges

In-dash CD player

Vintage Air with electronic climate control

Seatbelts

Tan carpet and floor mats

Finished trunk with custom fitted partitions, carpet, Bow Tie logo back of the cargo area

Hugger Orange and Tan

Full side windows in place of the original vented pieces

One-piece front and rear bumpers

Staggered-diameter Ridler alloy wheels

Performance tires

Mechanical

You will appreciate the 355 cubic inch modified Chevy small-block V-8 residing under the smoothed hood. A showpiece all on its own, it incorporates a polished aluminum intake, performance carb with the electric choke, chrome open element air cleaner assembly, aluminum finned valve covers with red script Chevrolet on them, performance fuel plumbing, modified electronics and distributor, a serpentine belt drive system with billet aluminum pulleys to drive its power steering, power brakes, alternator and Vintage Air accessory drives, and tube headers feeding 3-inch dual exhaust with Flowmaster mufflers to deliver the kind of throaty rumble guaranteed to attract attention.

A 700 R4 automatic transmission with overdrive and four-wheel disc brakes add even more to the 150's performance capabilities with the engine and frame both painted and detailed.

Interior

The tan custom interior has had its once-minimalist accommodations traded for a handsome bucket seat like but bench-seat interior featuring a matching rear seat and door panels, a leather-wrapped steering wheel, custom center console with the chrome shifter and orange shifter ball, billet aluminum dash with VDO gauges, in-dash CD player, Vintage Air with electronic climate control, seatbelts, and tan carpet and floor mats.

It even has a finished trunk with custom fitted partitions, carpet, and a Bow Tie logo across the back of the cargo area.

Exterior

Our 1955 Chevrolet 150 Sedan is a particularly fine example of craftmanship that has went into this show car.

The first thing you will notice is the paint scheme. Tastefully sprayed in Hugger Orange and Tan with carefully considered details such as full side windows in place of the original vented pieces, one-piece front and rear bumpers contribute to setting the car apart from the pack, and new staggered-diameter Ridler alloy wheels and performance rubber give it just the right stance.

Conclusion

This 1955 Chevy show car we have at Skyway Classics was built by Custom Classics that is a nationally renowned restoration facility for customizing show-winning cars of almost any make and model, from American iron to foreign exotics and vintage rarities.

1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Bradenton, Florida | Hemmings

1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Bradenton, Florida | Hemmings

1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Bradenton, Florida | Hemmings

[ontariocash]

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Why choose Columbus Car Mat

Top-notch materials

Strict product test to ensure quality

Excellent craftsmanship

A significant upgrade to the interior

Applying patented modeling and manufacturing craft, our mat is produced in "whole piece" and can stay in shape for at least four years.

Premium materials to improve product quality, durability, and beauty

Patented anti-slip design, ensuring our mats can adhere firmly to the floor.

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Enhancing Your Range Rover Sport with the Best Accessories

The Range Rover Sport is already a luxury SUV known for its sleek design comfort and performance. But adding accessories can make your driving Experience even more personalize and enjoyable. Whether you are upgrading for aesthetics protection or convenience there are a huge range of accessories available out there to suit your needs. In this guide you can learn everything about the top Range Rover sport accessories.

All weather floor mats

One of the simplest yet most effective Range Rover l460 accessories is the all-weather floor mats. It is a special design for the Range Rover Sport and the mats are made to withstand muds no dirt and spills helping you keep your vehicles interior clean and well maintained. They are completely easy to clean and offer superior protection compared to the standard carpets especially in areas with extreme weather conditions.

Premium seat covers

If you want to maintain the pristine condition of your car seats premium seat covers are really a must for you. The covers can protect against the spills and wear and also add an extra layer of comfort. They are available in range of materials like leather or fabric you can choose covers that complement your style anchoring the long lasting durability.

Side steps and running boards

The side steps are running boards are a practical and stylish addition to the Range Rover Sport. They make it really easy for you to get in and out of the vehicle especially if you have kids or if you have somebody who have difficulty with higher step in height. Additionally sidesteps can add a rugged look to the SUV while providing Functionality.

Cargo liners and organizers

You can maximize the space in your Range Rover Sport by adding a cargo liner and organizer. Sport by adding a cargo and then an organizer. The accessories help you keep the trunk area clean and also protect the interior from damage when transporting heavy or messy items. You must know that the cargo organizers can also help you keep the essentials in place preventing items from shifting around during drives.

So above all you need to know that adding accessories to your Range Rover Sport makes it very easy for you to customize your vehicle according to your needs and preferences. Whether you are improving comfort style or functionality there is an accessory to suit every driver out there.

For more details visit our website http://www.victorious.shop.