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transmutationisms · 1 year ago

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genq what are the actual reasons that plagiarism is bad apart from profit and prestige?

so there are two main angles i usually think of here, which ultimately converge into some related issues in public discourse and knowledge production.

firstly, plagiarism should not just be understood as a violation one individual perpetuates against another; it has a larger role in processes of epistemological violence and suppression of certain people's arguments, ideas, and labour. consider the following three examples of plagiarism that is not at all counter to current structures of knowledge production, but rather undergirds them:

in colonial expeditions and encounters from roughly the 14th century onward, a repeated and common practice among european explorer-naturalists was to rely on indigenous people's knowledge of botany, geography, natural history, and so forth, but to then go on to publish this knowledge in their own native tongues (meaning most of the indigenous people they had learned from could not access, read, or respond to such publications), with little, vague, or no attribution to their correspondents, guides, hosts, &c. (many many examples; allison bigelow's 'mining language' discusses this in 16th and 17th century american mining, with a linguistic analysis foregrounded)

throughout the renaissance and early modern period, in contexts where european women were generally not welcome to seek university education, it was nonetheless common practice for men of science to rely on their wives, sisters, and other family members not just to keep house, but also to contribute to their scientific work as research assistants, translators, fund-raisers, &c. attribution practices varied but it is very commonly the case that when (if ever) historians revisit the biographies of famous men of science, they discover women around these men who were actively contributing to their intellectual work, to an extent previously unknown or downplayed (off the top of my head, marie-anne lavoisier; emma darwin; caroline herschel; rosalie lamarck; mileva marić-einstein...)

it is standard practice today for university professors to run labs where their research assistants are grad students and postdocs; to rely on grad students, undergrads, and postdocs to contribute to book projects and papers; and so forth. again, attribution varies, but generally speaking the credit for academic work goes to the faculty member at the head of the project, maybe with a few research assistants credited secondarily, and the rest of the lab / department / project uncredited or vaguely thanked in the acknowledgments.

in all of these cases, you can see how plagiarism is perpetuated by pre-existing inequities and structures of exploitation, and in turn helps perpetuate those structures by continuing to discursively erase the existence of people made socially marginal in the process of knowledge production. so, what's at stake here is more than just the specific individuals whose work has been presented as someone else's discovery (though of course this is unjust already!); it's also the structural factors that make academic and intellectual discourse an élite, exclusive activity that most people are barred from participating in. a critique of plagiarism therefore needs to move beyond the idea that a number of wronged individuals ought to be credited for their ideas (though again, they should be) and instead turn to the structures that create positions of epistemological authority under the aegis of capitalist entities: universities, legacy as well as new media outlets, and so forth. the issue here is the positions of prestige themselves, regardless of who holds them; they are, definitionally, not instruments of justice or open discourse.

secondly, there's the effect plagiarism has on public discourse and the dissemination of knowledge. this is an issue because plagiarism by definition obscures the circulation and origin of ideas, as well as a full understanding of the labour process that produces knowledge. you can see in the above examples how the attribution of other people's ideas as your own works to turn you into a mythologised sort of lone genius figure, whose role is now to spread your brilliance unidirectionally to the masses. as a result, the vast majority of people are now doubly shut out of any public discourse or debate, except as passive recipients of articles, posts, &c. you can't trace claims easily, you don't see the vast number of people who actually contribute to any given idea, and this all works to protect the class and professional interests of the select few who do manage to attain élite intellectual status, by reinforcing and widening the created gap between expert and layperson (a distinction that, again, tracks heavily along lines of race, gender, and so forth).

so you can see how these two issues really are part of one and the same structural problem, which is knowledge production as a tool of power, and one that both follows from and reinforces existing class hierarchies. in truth, knowledge is usually a collaborative affair (who among us has ever had a truly original idea...) and attributions should be a way of both acknowledging our debts to other people, and creating transparency in our efforts to stake claims and develop ideas. but, as long as there are benefits, both economic and social, to be gained from presenting yourself as an originator of knowledge, people will continue to be incentivised to do this. plagiarism is not an exception or an aberration; it's at best a very predictable outcome of the operating logics of this 'knowledge economy', and at worst—as in the examples above—a normal part of how expert knowledge is produced, and its value protected, in a system that is by design inequitable and exclusive.

#plagiarism #academia

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faerygrant · 19 days ago

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wants and needs - carmy x reader

notes: Carmy struggles to hold back on his wants and needs during a special occasion at the house.

warnings: filth, breeding kink, swearing.

Carmen was sharp and precise in his planning of Emma’s 2nd birthday, for him this wasn’t just a simple party, it was for his second baby girl and he wasn’t going to allow her to settle for less. He curated the kids menu himself, and made sure he kept an eye on the staff as they put together his ideas, he worked on sketches of what he wanted the ladybug cake that his daughter had asked for. Getting Marcus himself, to make the cake and make sure it was pristine. He had Richie and the Faks on food service duty, but insisted that they keep an eye on Richie, considering he didn’t have the best track record with children’s parties. You didn’t even have to lift a finger, with Carmy continually letting you know he had it in the bag. The moms from the girls school, couldn’t stop gushing over how lucky you were to have a husband who was willing to take the reins when it came to party planning, and you couldn’t help but agree.

They day had finally come, you had both your girls in black and red, little ladybug antennas and cutesy wings adorning their backs. Both Valentina and Emma were running around excitedly as they heard Carmen let in their cousins, Nat and Pete following behind them with gifts in hand. “Allegra and MJ are here!” Valentina squeals, grabbing onto her younger sister’s arms and dragging her towards the living room. You smile hearing the excitement from your girls, looking yourself in the mirror. You were dressed in a tight floral sun dress, in theme with the birthday, your hair freshly blown out as per usual and your ‘C’ necklace that Carmen had gotten you for your anniversary glistened against your neck. You’d cheekily thrown on your push up bra, in hopes of getting lucky after all the fuss of the birthday had come to an end.

By the time the rest of the guests arrive, the backyard is buzzing with the loud sound of children’s shrieks and giggles, the sizzling of the grill that Carmy and the men were working on and the distant chatter of gossip coming from the group of moms. You were refilling the womens’ glasses when you’d realised half way through that the pitcher was halfway finished. “I’m just going to run inside and refill the drinks, ladies” you announce, before making your way back into the home. While Carmy had done his best, well and truly, you had underestimated just how much work today was going to be, and as you quickly refilled the jar of Sangria, you finally took in the deep breath you’d been holding in since the start of the party. This felt like the first time you’d had the time to think since the guests had arrived, you loved hosting, really but your mind was also flying a mile a minute at this moment.

Carmen had been watching you the whole afternoon, he couldn’t help the tight feeling in his pants, when he noticed the skimpy little sundress you’d thrown on, cleavage pushed up so nicely and that pretty necklace of his initials that was clasped around your neck. You were so engrossed in your mommy duties, filling up glasses of sangria, giving out juice boxes to the children, passing around hors d’oeuvres, watching over the kids as they took turns in the jumping castle. He knew for a fact that he’d probably end up putting another baby in you tonight, but he just needed to get you alone for a minute. “Yo, Carm, you even listenin?” Richie snaps at Carmy and he’s finally broken from his trance. “Yeah, whats up?” He replies, still watching you as you pour the remainder of Sangria into one of the mums glass. His eyes following as you walk into the house. “We’re outta mustard, got any in the house?” Carmen nods, not bothering to even reply, before he’s following after you, under the guise of retrieving more mustard.

After putting the jars into the refrigerator, you quickly excuse yourself to the small downstairs bathroom, in dire need of some relief. However the very second you try to close the door, you feel the hand twist back, Carmy quickly pushing his way in.

“What?” Your eyes search his frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Carmen’s eyes sparkle, like glass carved sapphires.

You eye him, sceptical and cautious. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Carmy moves closer to you. The air in the already small bathroom starts to rise with the heat of his body.

“Then,” you say carefully, not wanting to entice him into whatever ludicrous game he’s planning on playing, “why are you in here, Carmy Bear?”

He looks you up and down, that face he gives you when you know he’s hungry. He couldn’t stop looking at your dress, one of his favourites. The flimsy material, your tits pushed up together so nicely. He can’t help but look into your eyes. “Y’know I fuckin love this one?” He puts one hand on your chest, lightly squeezing, emitting a squeak from you.

“Carmy… stop.”

“Why momma?” he hums quietly, grasping some fabric of your dress between his thumb rolling it.

You draw in a breath. A whole party is going on a mere window away with children, mums from your group, and your own two babies—and Carmy has you cornered in the toilet like a pair of teens in the locker room. “Bear…stop” you warn him, but he’s already sliding your dress up your thigh and reaching for more. “We can’t…”

“I like when you wear my name on your neck, let em know who you belong to” Carmy whispers, keeping his voice low in case one of the guys comes looking for him.

The thrill of it gets the better of you, and you lean into it, playing into his game. “We can’t do this in here, Bear,” you whine urgently, “there’s people—”

“I know momma, but you need this,” Carmy says, lifting up your dress so he can lift you up onto your tip-toes by your ass. “And I know you’re stressed.” He pulls you to his body and manoeuvres you both until he can hoist you onto the cold sink. “’know it helps when you cum.”

“’s that why you locked me in here with you? For stress relief?”

Carmen whispers into your ear as he skims between your legs, running his fingers up and down your clothed core. “I locked you in here ‘cause I wanna feel this pussy cum and I’m not leaving til I get you pregnant again.”

You steady yourself on the porcelain sink, wrapping your legs around Carmy’s hips as he strokes your cunt.

“Carm I think I heard someone,” you mutter breathlessly, not sure if you heard the creak of the back door or if you just think you heard it.

He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he slips his hand inside your underwear. He teases your bare folds from beginning to end and back again, nuzzling your skin with his soft lips and wet tongue.

“Carmy, wait,” you whisper.

He groans into your neck, running his fingertips up and down your slick, swollen lips, glancing your clit, and doing his utmost not to bite down on your skin.

“Carmen,” your voice is hoarse with a hint of panic, “we gotta stop, baby.”

Out of nowhere, comes three hard knocks on the bathroom door, and your stomach drops.

Carmen’s other hand flies up to cover your mouth before you can even gasp. “Occupied!” he yells, his head turned in the direction of the bathroom door—but somehow, his fingers don’t falter as they work you over.

You breathe hard through your nose, hot exhale fanning over Carmy’s fingers where he’s got your mouth clamped shut. You train your gaze on his face, your eyes wide with alarm, as your body responds to almost being caught with an embarrassingly eager surge of desire.

The voice of one of none other than Richie calls back, muffled by the door. “Yo, cousin where the fuck is the mustard at?” “My bad, it’s in the fridge, left side!” Carmy yells, looking at you dangerously, daring you to make a sound.

“A’ight man, hurry back!” Richie replies with a smile in his voice. Carmen faces the door until he’s sure he hears Richie exit through the back door. Then, pressing ever so slightly inside you with the tips of two fingers, he turns back to you.

He doesn’t take his hand from your mouth when he murmurs, “Didn’t want her to hear you cooing, baby girl .”

Your objections dissolve like salt in water as Carmy trails two fingers up your slit. He swirls your wet around, coating your clit with it with every firm circle his digits make on your stiff bud.

You drop your legs from his hips, spreading them over the sink and widening yourself for his thick fingers.

Carmen takes his hand from your mouth and snakes it around the nape of your neck. He nudges the tip of your nose with his as he pushes into your cunt with one big, fat finger.

Jaw dropped, you sigh into his open mouth.

Carmen loves it. “Take two, mommy,” he murmurs onto your lips, lining up his longest digit, “take ‘em both.”

He surges forward again, pressing into your pussy with two thick fingers, and this time the subtle stretch is even more satisfying. Your head tips back against the mirror as pleasure flickers through all the nerves in your body.

“M’fuckin momma was all worked up, huh?” Carmy mutters absently in a low, quiet voice. He pumps his fingers in a rhythm that hits all the right spots inside you as he holds you by the back of the neck. “Wound too fuckin’ tight.”

The drag of his digits is heavenly and your pussy walls wrap tight around his fingers, adding to the friction. You gasp his name, but he hushes you abruptly.

Footsteps from outside, once again.

“Don’t fuckin breathe,” he whispers, and the excitement in his eyes is clouded over by a dark look of warning. He changes the angle of his fingers, now driving up into your pussy so his fingertips nudge your interior bundle of nerves with every pass.

Eyes locked with his, your mouth falls further open, and you put everything into staying quiet.

Carmen looks deadly serious and mouths the word, “Quiet,” as Richie returns from outside, seemingly coming back for something. His fingers glide easily in and out of you, the slip and slide aided by so much of your cum.

Two quick, sharp knocks on the bathroom door and the Richie yells out in his familiar voice, “Don’t be too long in there, Carm, you got the shits or something?” He trolls, a loud laugh leaving him.

But there’s no footsteps signalling that he’s fucking off.

The man is waiting by the door for a response.

Carmen’s eyes don’t leave yours this time. He’s exhilarated by the dark thrill of all this, and chuckles another fake laugh. “Fuck off, cousin!” he replies, and that seems to do the trick.

You hear him finally walk off, and shock finally hits you.

“Carmy,” you gasp, “you think he knows?”

“He’s a jag off,” Carmen whispers quickly, pulling at your dress, exposing one of your breasts. “He doesn’t,” he murmurs, the pump and drag of his fingers slowing as he eyes your budded nipple peeking through the lacy cup of your push up bra.

“C’m’on,” Carmen growls, tugging the cup down to half-pull your tit out of your bra, “make it quick.”

He tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and picks up the pace again, shoving his fingers into your cunt and dragging them out along your slippery, silky walls.

You suck in a breath through your teeth as pleasure sparks in your clit and up your spine, but to Carmy you murmur, “Bear. Please. We just shouldn’t.”

“Fuck ‘em,” he grumbles, pumping your pussy so hard and fast his arm shakes. “My breeding whore. My house.” So hard and fast your cunt starts to make noise. “’f I wanna give you another baby, I will.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you hold back a groan, and your fingers curl around the edge of the sink to steady yourself. Within moments of fingering you and toying with your nipple, Carmen works your body to a quavering high.

“Any time now,” he hissed into your neck, and buries his fingers inside you to the knuckle so he can rub furiously at your swollen clit.

You choke on a sob, your orgasm rising and tightening in your core. Carmy’s thumb brushes back and forth and up and down and around and around so wildly, so perfectly, with enough force and pressure to bring you quickly to your peak.

“Cum now. Cum now,” Carmy grits through clenched teeth, feeling your pussy get hotter and wetter and tighter on his fingers. Your clit stiffens and twitches once under his thumb, and he knows you’re about to break. He growls into your ear, “Cum on my fucking fingers or I’ll take you upstairs and I don’t care who hears us.”

“Fuck!” Your orgasm shudders through your body in waves, bursting with bright white light and searing pleasure. That you can’t groan or moan or scream through it sharpens the high—the only thing you’re cognizant of is the rhythmic clenching of your pussy around Carmen’s digits and the bliss turning your every muscle and bone to jelly.

“There it is,” Carmen murmurs as your legs shake uncontrollably on the m sink, “there you go, mommy.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #reader x carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fic

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

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When Their S/O Meets Their Family

Type of Writing: #4 - Poll Result Characters: Manjiro Sano, Mitsuya Takashi, Souya Kawata, and Hakkai Shiba Family: Sister (M.S.), Mother and Sisters (M.T.), Brother (S.K.), and Sister (H.S.) Name: When Their S/O Meets Their Family Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: For Hakkai's part, it only features Yuzuha meeting the reader because of how Taiju is an abusive a-hole to them. Anyways, have fun reading this!

Slight spoilers for: Black Dragons Arc

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍡 Mikey is very close with his family, and everyone who has ever met him knows this

🍡 When you first met Mikey, he no doubt wanted you to meet his sister, Emma, because he knew that she would like talking to his brother's S/O

🍡 He introduced you guys to one another a couple weeks after your relationship began, in which he just rode up to your house and asked you straight-up if you wanted to meet someone important to him

🍡 You hopped on his bike, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and rode with him from your home to his to meet this person

🍡 Mikey has told you all kinds of stories about his family, from his late older brother Shinichiro to his younger sister Emma

🍡 His bike came to a stop in front of a Dojo, it was his family's, the same one that he was raised in and technically adopted his sister, Emma

🍡 He grabbed your hand and dragged you through the doors, announcing his and your arrival loudly for someone to hear

" Emma! You here? " " Yeah, oh! Who's your friend, Mikey? Is this your S/O? "

🍡 A youthful girl walked out from around the corner of the hallway and looked into the Dojo-themed room, her yellow eyes stared into your (E/C) eyes and she smiled

🍡 Introducing herself, you learned that this was Emma Sano, Mikey's younger half-sister, specifically her father's mistress' child

🍡 Unfortunately for Mikey, you and Emma bonded so much that you were pushing Mikey's affections down a peg, meaning you were ignoring him slightly, prompting him to start pouting

🍡 Why was his family such good conversationalists?

🪡 You have heard millions upon millions of stories of Mitsuya's younger sisters, Luna and Mana, and his mother

🪡 He has wanted you to meet them for so long, but, since his mother worked late and normally wasn't given many breaks from work, he hasn't had any time to actually set up a meeting

🪡 Both thankfully and not thankfully, his mother was given time off, only because she had gotten sick

🪡 Mitsuya was putting in a lot of effort to helping his mother get better fast, so, when you called and he explained the situation, he was shocked when you said you were coming over with some soup

🪡 He tried to protest, claiming he didn't want you getting sick, but, you protested his protests (omg i've never typed that word that much) and you hung up after telling him you'd be there later that day

🪡 Mitsuya sighed and and laid the phone down, you really were a stubborn person when it came to things like this

🪡 When he heard the sound of his sisters yelling that a person was at the door, he got up from the kitchen stove, where he had a tea kettle and opened the door

🪡 You held out a tupperware filled with a reddish-orange thick liquid, he was guessing it was the soup you had made, probably tomato

" Love, you really didn't have to do this. " " Well, I can't have my future mother-in-law staying sick for long, now can I? "

🪡 Your boyfriend directed you to his mother's room while his sisters played in the living room, and when his mother saw you, she smiled and laughed, teasing her son

🪡 He smiled lightly as he handed her a spoon and laid the smooth-vegetable soup in her hands, before wishing her health to reach her and leaving the room with your boyfriend

🪡 This may have not been the most ideal way for you to meet his family, but it did remind him of why he loved you, you're an amazing person with an amazing heart

💢 If you met Angry, you no doubt were destined to meet his twin brother, Nahoya, or Smiley

💢 Angry has wanted you to meet his brother for a while, but, his brother could be quite a lot to take at once, and he understood that, he grew up with him for Pete's sake

💢 When you called his home one day and Smiley picked up, he pretended to be his twin brother, since he obviously wasn't gonna step up to have you meet him anytime soon

💢 He snickered once you hung up, bidding goodbye, and he began to start laughing, though he attempted to hold it in, his brother was in the next room after all

" Who was that? " " Oh, just a spam. I decided to prank the scammer, it was fun! "

💢 Angry was relaxing on the sofa, messing around with a plush you had gotten him a few days prior, by what he knew, they weren't expecting any guests, especially ones after 5:00pm

💢 When he opened the door and saw you standing there, his eyes widened and he cocked and eyebrow, asking why you showed up unannounced, and when you replied with how he asked you to come over for dinner that night, he connected the dots

" That must have been Nahoya, my brother... " " Oh! Now I'm embarrassed, I can't even tell my boyfriend apart from his brother. " " Not by voice, no, but, you'll definitely tell us apart by our physical features... "

💢 Nahoya jumped out from behind the corner and hugged you, saying how happy he was that he could finally meet the person that his brother raved about when healing or resting

💢 This was gonna be a long night...

☄️ I'm gonna layer this on very thickly, he does not want you to meet his older brother, he's a sadistic man by heart, and he doesn't need you to suffer from his cruelty

☄️ Hakkai wanted you to meet his sister, yes, but, due to your busy schedules, he couldn't seem to find the perfect time where Taiju and Yuzuha were apart

☄️ So, whenever you guys had met up to hang out, he normally led you to your home and away from his, he didn't need any trouble now

☄️ But, when you came to his house unannounced, he froze in place

☄️ Oh God, why were you here now?! Taiju wasn't in the brightest moods by what Yuzuha told him, and he didn't need to risk your safety like this!

" Hakkai! Who's at the damn door?! It's takin' you forever! "

☄️ You cocked and eyebrow as he yelled out to the male how it was someone he needed to speak to outside for a few minutes

☄️ He ushered you back outside the doorway and stood with you outside his home, and he sighed, knowing you were gonna ask him a ton of questions on what was going on

☄️ Hakkai slightly teared up as you asked what was happening, and, when he just told you that they had some 'familial bonds' that were kinda rusted over, you groaned, knowing he was lying

☄️ Instead of pushing salt into the wound, you hugged him, allowing him to sigh and wipe his tears away as the door opened

☄️ He swung around to shield you as a young girl walked out, she had light-orange hair and piercing amber eyes, and when she saw you she tilted her head

" Who are you exactly? " " I'm- " " This is the person I've been telling you about, Yuzuha. Y/N, this is my older sister, Yuzuha, and this is my S/O, Y/N L/N. "

☄️ Yuzuha smiled and held her hand out for you to shake, saying how she figured he had an S/O with how cheery he was whenever he hung up the phone sometimes

☄️ Hakkai got flustered and tried hiding his face as you and Yuzuha exchanged stories about Hakkai being a dork as he mumbled about how you guys were 'ganging up on him'

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Rev #Tokyo Manji Gang #Toman #Tokyo Revengers x Reader #Tokyo Rev x Reader #Tokyo Manji Gang x Reader #Toman x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Manjiro Sano #Manjiro Sano x Reader #Mitsuya Takashi #Mitsuya Takashi x Reader #Souya Kawata #Souya Kawata x Reader #Hakkai Shiba #Hakkai Shiba x Reader

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kakuchosearring · 1 year ago

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i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings, uhuh! // manjiro sano headcanons.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ final timeleap/final timeline!mikey as your boyfriend headcanons ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

━━━ ( ⋆｡°✩ this ofc contains spoilers of the ending! ✩°｡ ⋆ ) ━━━

✧ let's face it, mikey has a whole different outlook on life now. because of this, he's determined to make everything right, and he starts with the person he's been crushing on for years. he's spent so long trying to keep you away from him because he's been so scared of his dark impulses & what he could become that now he can't even wait. one of the first things he's doing is convincing takemichi to come with him to your house to introduce himself (and shoot his lil kid shot) so he can weed his way into your life quicker. you're stuck with him whether you like it or not.

✧ you asking him who tf he is and why he's banging on your little eight year old self's door at 5 pm on a tuesday definitely humbles him but mikey's just so happy to see your face that it's all worth it.

✧ his eight year old self 100% proposes the idea of 'getting married and being together for ever and ever'. you obviously go along with this idea and you two have silly talks of emma being at your wedding and all your lil barbies and shit will be there too. it's all innocent and so sweet and mikey cannot believe he took all of this for granted the first time.

✧ once you two are considerably older and actually a couple this time around, mikey is HUGE on touch. like, mikey's constantly wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind, grabbing your hands, etc. he's gotta hold you constantly b/c it's a nice reminder to him that you're real and you're HIS, finally.

✧ actually, as a matter of fact, i would bet my life on saying he never even technically made it official. you two started hanging out romantically and one day he just referred to himself as your boyfriend and you went along with it. you're the person he wants to be with for the rest of his life and he's gonna make damn well sure this happens.

✧ because of everything he's gone through and how scared he is to lose you (even if you don't quite understand it) he's super protective. he's giving every single person who even has the audacity to look at you the nastiest glares he can muster up. if someone's flirting with you, he'll walk up to you, wrap his arm around your shoulder, kiss your cheek and play super dumb. 'whatcha talkin' about?' cute puppy head tilt and all. this, somehow, scares people off more than his nasty glares.

✧ mikey can't stop talking about you to other people. like, i'm sorry to say, but draken is definitely sick of hearing your name because you come up every other sentence. takemichi hears about how beautiful you are and how you and mikey are gonna go to the park later or shopping or whatever -- and, of course, this honestly makes takemichi happier than anyone, because in this timeline, everyone has finally gotten the happy ending they deserve. you and mikey are no different.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ wanna request smth? feel free, my ask box is open !! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers fanfic #tokyo revengers imagines #tokrev fanfic #tokrev imagines #manjiro sano #mikey sano #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey sano fluff #mikey sano imagines

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redroomreflections · 9 months ago

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Not Easily Broken Part 7

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

7/10

Note: Old friends I bet you never saw this day coming.

W/c:3.95

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)Keep reading

As you pull into the driveway of your home, you give two quick honks before shifting the car into park. Anticipation bubbles inside you as you look forward to taking Ryan to his baseball practice. Undoing your seat belt, you glance at your watch to check the time, only to realize you're running late. A sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a roll of your eyes at your oversight. Just as you're about to step out of the car, the front door swings open, drawing your attention away from your tardiness.

Ryan bounds down the steps, his red and white Raptors uniform proudly displaying his school's name. His baseball bag hangs heavily from his back as he rushes towards you. With a burst of energy, he throws himself into your arms, squeezing your midsection tightly and burying his head against your belly.

"Hi Mommy, I'm so excited you're here," he mumbles into you, his voice muffled by your shirt.

"Hi, baby, I'm thrilled to be here too," You reply, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling the curls on his head. "You need a haircut," you tease gently as you glance down at his tousled hair.

"Never," he declares with a shake of his head, a playful glint in his eyes.

“There’s no convincing him, I’ve tried,” Natasha says as she steps onto the front porch, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. You look up to acknowledge her, only to do a double take. Natasha looks incredible. She's sporting a fitted white tee that accentuates her toned figure, paired with denim shorts that hug her curves perfectly. Sunglasses perch on top of her head, and a pair of Converse shoes complete the effortlessly chic ensemble. It's not just about the outfit itself, but how she wears it with confidence.

“Is that what you wear to Little League?” you ask, tilting your head as you take in her casual yet stylish attire.

Natasha chuckles softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. “Well, I figured I’d give the other parents something to talk about,” she replies with a smirk.

“Interesting,” You smile back.

“Mommy, do you like my outfit?” Emma asks proudly as she stands beside Natasha. She's wearing a tart orange top paired with biker shorts, and her feet are adorned with the sparkliest shoes you've ever seen.

You glance over at Emma, a smile spreading across your face at her vibrant ensemble. "Wow, Emma, you look amazing!" you exclaim, genuinely impressed by her bold fashion choice. "Those shoes are dazzling."

Natasha beams with pride at Emma's excitement. "You look fantastic, sweetheart," she adds, reaching out to tousle Emma's hair affectionately.

Emma happily bounces down the steps one by one, her infectious giggles filling the air. Natasha's heart skips a beat as she watches her, a mini heart attack looming with each skipped step, especially when Emma forgoes holding onto the railing altogether.

You, still holding onto Ryan, quickly adjust, freeing one of your arms to reach out and steady Emma as she descends. With a reassuring smile, you wrap your arm around her, providing the support she needs to navigate the steps safely. Natasha breathes a sigh of relief as she sees you taking care of Emma, her worry dissipating as she watches the scene unfold.

“Okay, let’s all make it to the practice in one piece,” You remind Emma as she smiles up at you. “Do you have everything?” You ask Ryan and he nods.

“Yep, all set,” He pats his backpack.

“Mommy, are we going to get pizza after this game?” Emma questions eagerly. “My tummy has been rumbling for like an hour now. I think we have to get food.”

You chuckle at Emma's enthusiasm, nodding in agreement. "Pizza sounds like a great idea, sweetheart," you reply, glancing over at Natasha for confirmation.

Natasha smiles warmly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Pizza it is," she confirms. "But first, let's cheer on Ryan at his practice and game, okay?"

Emma nods eagerly, her excitement evident as she bounces on the balls of her feet. "Okay, Mommy! Go, Ryan!" she cheers, already looking forward to the post-game pizza feast.

“Race to the car?” Ryan suggests, and Emma takes off before she even agrees to it.

You watch the two of them run towards your car, their laughter filling the air as they argue over who gets the front seat before you let out a soft sigh.

“Does the bickering ever stop?” you mumble more to yourself than anyone else.

“I don’t think it does,” Natasha laughs, joining you by your side. She wraps her arms around your body, pulling you close. Despite the recent tension with Yelena, you had hoped things wouldn’t change between the two of you."Hey you," She greets, her voice filled with warmth and affection as she looks into your eyes.

You turn to face Natasha, a small smile playing on your lips as you meet her gaze. Despite the lingering worries, being in her embrace brings a sense of comfort and reassurance.

"Hey back," you reply softly, leaning into her touch. "I'm glad you're here." You lean in for a quick kiss, savoring the taste of cherry lip gloss on her lips. “Ready to go?”

“I am,” Natasha nods. “Though earlier Ryan told me that he wished it was just the two of you going.”

“He did?” You glance over to the kids who are now both seated in the backseat.

“Mhmm,” Natasha hums. “It might be for the better.”

You ponder her words for a moment, considering Ryan's perspective. "Maybe he just wants some one-on-one time," you muse, glancing back at the kids with a thoughtful expression. "We can make that happen sometime soon." The idea of spending quality time with Ryan fills you with warmth, knowing that nurturing your bond with him is just as important as maintaining your relationship with Natasha.

"Come on, Mommy, I'm going to be late!" Ryan calls out, rolling down his window to get your attention.

You smile at his urgency, realizing that you've been caught up in the moment. "I'm coming, Ryan!" you call back, giving Natasha a quick squeeze before making your way to the driver's seat. As you start the car, you can't help but feel grateful for these little moments with your family, cherishing the bonds that hold you all together. You’re so glad you get to experience this again.

*****************

You stand along the fence, the sweltering heat causing you to fan yourself off as you watch the game unfold in front of you. Somewhere behind you, Natasha sits with Emma, sharing popcorn and a few cold water bottles between them. Despite the discomfort of the heat, your eyes remain fixed on the field, eagerly awaiting Ryan's turn to bat. Each pitch and play holds your attention, anticipation building with each moment as you wait for the perfect opportunity to cheer on your son.

“Did we miss anything?” Kerry Cook asks as she settles into her spot next to Natasha. Her husband, Doug, follows behind, carrying their eight-month-old in a carrier on his body.

“No, not yet. It’s been slow,” Natasha replies, briefly tearing her gaze away from the field to acknowledge Kerry and Doug. Despite the conversation, her attention remains fixed on the game, her anticipation growing as she realizes Ryan will be up to bat soon.

“Good, Miles had a case of anxiety that we had to get together,” Kerry informs her, settling into her seat beside Natasha. “Is that y/n?” Kerry spots you only a few feet away.

“In the flesh,” Natasha nods, her attention still partly focused on the game.

“Wow, it’s been a while,” Kerry continues, observing you. “She looks toned.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Natasha replies nonchalantly, though her tone suggests otherwise.

“I’m sure,” Kerry responds, not sounding entirely convinced by Natasha's casual response. “It’s nice seeing her here. Well, even seeing you two in the same place is a miracle.”

Natasha offers a small smile, sensing Kerry's curiosity lingering beneath the surface. "Yeah, we've been trying some things out," she says casually, subtly hinting at the efforts she and you have been making to reconcile and mend your relationship. Despite her attempt to keep it low-key, there's a hint of pride in her voice, a quiet acknowledgment of the progress you two have been making together.

"Congratulations," Kerry almost beams with pride, her genuine happiness for you shining through. If there was one person on your team rooting for you, it was her.

Natasha enjoys Kerry and Doug’s company as they continue to watch the game. Occasionally, Emma will reach into the popcorn container to pop a few kernels into her mouth, and Natasha leans over for easier access. She could see you out of the corner of her eye, so engrossed in Ryan and his plays on the field. She'd missed this more than she could convey.

But as Ryan makes a good play that has them all cheering, Natasha's attention snaps back to the game. Ryan steps up to the plate, his determination is evident in the set of his shoulders, the pitcher winds up and delivers the ball with all his might. Ryan swings, the crack of the bat echoing across the field as the ball sails through the air.

It's not a perfect hit, but it's a solid one. The ball bounces just beyond the infield, rolling towards the outfield as Ryan takes off running. The fielders scramble to retrieve it, but Ryan's speed is impressive for his age. He rounds first base with determination, his eyes fixed on second as he picks up speed.

The outfielder scoops up the ball and throws it toward second base, but Ryan is already there, sliding into the base with a burst of energy. The umpire's call is clear: safe!

Cheers erupt from the sidelines as Ryan jumps to his feet, a triumphant grin on his face. His eyes scan the bleachers to find you standing directly in front of him. You offer a thumbs up to which he reciprocates. Gosh, you love that kid.

“Which one is yours?” A soft voice interrupts your focus on the game, drawing your attention to the woman beside you. She exudes a soccer mom vibe, with a warm smile and an air of familiarity that instantly puts you at ease. Her features resemble those of Gina Davis—sharp cheekbones framing a heart-shaped face, with expressive hazel eyes that seem to shimmer with genuine interest. Her hair is styled in a casual yet chic bob, framing her face in loose waves that bounce with every movement.

Despite her friendly demeanor, there's something about her proximity to you that sets off a faint alarm in your mind. She stands a little too close for comfort, her body language subtly leaning towards you in a way that feels almost intrusive. It's enough to make Natasha, who's been watching discreetly from a distance, take notice.

You gesture towards Ryan. “The kid with the reddish curly hair who's currently goofing off with Miles”

"Oh, yeah, Ryan, he's pretty good," the woman compliments, her gaze shifting towards him with a nod of approval. “He’s cute. Clearly takes after you.”

“I don’t know about that,” You blush slightly. When she turns her attention back to you, you inquire about her own child. "You?"

"Oh, my son is Teddy over there with the buzz cut," she replies, pointing towards a boy on the field.

“He’s solid,” You nod.

"I'd like to think so," she shrugs casually. "I'm Vera. What's your name?"

"Y/n," you reply, shaking her hand.

"Oh, you're the ex," Vera whistles, her tone carrying a hint of surprise.

“That would be me,” You tip your hat and offer a smile. “Has there been a lot of talk?”

Vera chuckles lightly, a knowing glint in her eye. "Oh, you know how it is," she replies vaguely, her tone suggesting that she's privy to some of the gossip but doesn't feel the need to delve into details.

"Unfortunately I do," you say with a rueful smile, acknowledging the sometimes intrusive nature of parents nearby.

Vera, ever the conversationalist, leans in a bit closer, a curious glint in her eyes. "So, how have you been holding up?" she asks, her tone filled with genuine interest as she tries to strike up a conversation. “Divorce can’t be easy. Trust me I’d know.”

You offer a small, appreciative nod, grateful for Vera's attempt to connect. "It's been... challenging," you admit, your voice softening with a hint of vulnerability. "But I'm taking it one day at a time." Despite the difficulties, you find solace in the genuine concern of those around you, including Vera's compassionate gesture.

“Well, if you ever need a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen,” Vera offers, extending a comforting gesture.

“She won’t,” Natasha interrupts, her voice firm and protective, asserting her presence in the conversation.

Vera's expression falters momentarily at Natasha's interruption, her offer of support met with an unexpected rebuttal. She glances between you and Natasha, sensing an underlying tension in the exchange.

Undeterred, Vera quickly recovers with a gentle smile. "Of course," she replies diplomatically. “Well, nice meeting you.” Vera excuses herself to go sit on the other side of the bleachers.

“You sure scared her,” You chuckled, breaking the tension with a light-hearted comment.

“Wasn’t my intention,” Natasha smirks, her expression softening as she meets your gaze. “He’s so happy you’re here,” she adds, tilting her chin towards Ryan, who keeps glancing over to you, almost as if to check that you’re still here. There's a fondness in Natasha's voice as she observes Ryan's behavior, a silent acknowledgment of the bond between mother and child.

“I’m happy to be here,” You wrap your arm around her waist to pull her closer to you. “We can throw some balls before bed and talk. How’s he been doing? With his anger and everything?”

Natasha leans into your embrace, appreciating the comfort of your touch. "He's been better," she admits. "We've been working on it, but it's been a struggle. He's still adjusting, I think."

There's a hint of vulnerability in her tone as she opens up about the challenges of parenting. Ryan especially in the past months has regressed and resorted to anger in the form of violence, mostly toward Natasha. She had reluctantly admitted this after you caught the tail end of her scolding when he’d thrown a video game remote at her head. You offer her a reassuring squeeze, silently conveying your support.

“I feel guilty,” You admit. “I know this isn’t the place for us to get into it but… I do.” You take a deep breath. “I’ve left you all in the dark about everything. It hasn’t been fair to them.”

Natasha listens quietly, her expression softening as she hears your admission. She reaches out to gently cup your cheek, offering a reassuring touch. "I understand," she says softly, her voice laced with empathy. "It's been tough for all of us." She doesn't excuse your actions, but she also doesn't want to make you feel guiltier.

It’s Ryan’s turn again. Time to pay attention.

*******************

Chuck E Cheese’s was a great place to go after a baseball game, especially for kids like Ryan and Emma who were bursting with energy after spending hours on the field. As you walked through the doors, the lively sounds of arcade games and children's laughter filled the air, causing you to instantly become overstimulated.

Ryan's eyes widened with excitement as he caught sight of the colorful carousel and the flashing lights of the arcade games. Emma's face lit up as she spotted the towering play structure, complete with slides, tunnels, and ball pits.

You led the way to a table, the scent of freshly baked pizza wafting through the air and making your stomach growl in anticipation. The kids eagerly clamored around the table, their chatter filling the space as they debated which games to play first and which prizes to aim for.

As the kids dashed off to explore the arcade, you and Natasha settled into a booth, enjoying a moment of relative calm amidst the bustling atmosphere of Chuck E Cheese’s. You'd paid for 100 coins each, not much all things considered, but worth it for a fun time on a school night.

Sitting across from Natasha, you appreciated the chance to have a conversation without interruptions, even if it was just for a little while. The occasional shriek or burst of laughter from the arcade area served as background noise, a reminder of the chaos surrounding you.

“So, have you given any thought to the couple’s assignment thing?” You asked, breaking the brief lull in conversation. “Something for us to do together that doesn’t involve a bedroom.”

Natasha leaned back against the booth, her gaze thoughtful as she considered your question. "I have," she replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I was thinking maybe we could try cooking together. We used to enjoy trying out new recipes, remember?"

The memory brought warmth to your heart, a reminder of simpler times when it was just the two of you, experimenting in the kitchen and sharing meals. "That sounds perfect," you agree, returning her smile. "It'll be nice to spend some quality time together."

It was a date.

"I remember those times in the kitchen," You began, your voice soft with emotion. "They were some of the best moments we shared."

“That kitchen has seen a lot,” Natasha nods, grabbing a slice of pizza to bite into.

“It has certainly seen better days,” You agree. “I’m really glad you didn’t sell the house.”

Natasha's expression softens at your words. "Me too," she murmurs, setting down her slice of pizza to give you her full attention. "It wouldn't have felt right, you know? Selling the house felt like giving up on everything we built together."

You nod in agreement, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Despite all the challenges we've faced, this place still feels like home."

"It always will," Natasha replies, her voice filled with conviction. “There’s something else on the assignment list that would be cool. Do you want to discuss it now?”

“Here?” You look around.

“Sure, why not,” Natasha shrugs. “It’s a simple question. What is something you’re glad you’ll never have to do again?”

“Hmm, probably childbirth,” You answer honestly. You wipe your mouth with the corner of a napkin before setting it aside.

Natasha's brows furrow slightly in confusion at your response. "Childbirth? Really?" she asks, her tone laced with curiosity. "I mean, I know it's not a walk in the park, but I thought you handled it like a champ. You never really talked about it being that bad."

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze drifting away from Natasha's as you search for the right words. "Yeah, well, I guess I just... tried to focus on the positive aspects," you reply vaguely, a faint hint of discomfort creeping into your voice. "But, um, the aftermath wasn't exactly a walk in the park either."

Natasha's expression softens with concern as she picks up on your hesitation. "What do you mean?" she prompts gently, reaching across the table to place her hand over yours. "Is everything okay?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you prepare to share something you've kept buried for far too long. "I... I think I had postpartum depression," you admit your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... something I never really talked about."

Natasha's eyes widen slightly in surprise, her hand squeezing yours reassuringly. "I had no idea," she murmurs, her voice filled with empathy.

“Yeah, I hid it well I guess,” You frown. “You were away on a mission when it got really bad. I had to take Ryan to the compound. I left him there for a few days. He just wouldn’t stop crying and I just needed time and…”

Natasha's expression softens further as she listens, her heart breaking at the thought of you struggling alone with Ryan. "I'm so sorry," she says, her voice filled with genuine remorse. "I wish I had been there for you."

You shake your head, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It's not your fault," you reply, your voice tinged with sadness. "I didn't want to burden you with it, especially when you were away on a mission. I thought I could handle it on my own."

"You never have to handle things alone, y/n," she says softly, her eyes locked on yours.

“Somehow I keep forgetting that,” You shrug.

Natasha doesn’t want to ask the next question. She’s almost afraid of the answer you’re going to give. “So what were the positives for you? In therapy, you mentioned that things got rougher when we had kids. I understand PPD can exacerbate that.”

You pause, contemplating Natasha's question for a moment before answering. "Honestly," you begin, your voice low and hesitant, "for a long time, I couldn't see any positives. It felt like everything was just... too much. The sleepless nights, the constant crying, the feeling of being overwhelmed... I couldn't see past it."

Natasha's hand finds yours across the table, offering silent support as you continue. "But... therapy helped," you admit, a flicker of hope in your eyes. "Talking about it, understanding it... It helped me realize that there were moments of joy. Like... the first time Ryan smiled, or when Emma said her first word. Little things that reminded me why I wanted to be a parent in the first place."

You glance up at Natasha, searching her eyes for understanding. "It's still hard," you confess, your voice raw with emotion. "But I'm learning to find the positives, even on the toughest days."

“Thank you for telling me this,” Natasha says.

“I would have preferred us to talk about it over dinner but I guess Chuck E. Cheese’s was as good as any,” You try to lighten the mood. “Honestly, I didn’t think you would take this information so lightly. I know you have this view of pregnancy and everything and back then I didn’t want to change that for you.”

Natasha listens intently, her expression softening as you speak. "I'm sorry," she says sincerely."I never realized you were going through all of that alone. I wish you had felt comfortable talking to me about it."

You give her a small smile, appreciating her understanding. "It's okay," you reassure her. "I didn't even fully understand it myself at the time. But I'm glad we're talking about it now."

Natasha nods, her eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and gratitude. "Me too," she agrees softly.

“But you never answered the question yourself,” You pointed out. Natasha raises a brow. “What’s something you’re glad you never have to do again?”

Natasha's expression turns thoughtful as she considers your question. After a moment of contemplation, she speaks, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I think," she begins slowly, "I'm glad we never have to go back to feeling distant from each other. Those times when we were both struggling individually and couldn't find our way back to each other... I'm glad that's behind us now. I never want to feel that kind of disconnection again."

You nod in understanding, feeling a sense of relief at her honesty. "Me neither," you admit. "I think we've both learned a lot from those moments, and we're stronger because of it."

Natasha smiles softly, her eyes meeting yours with warmth. "Absolutely," she agrees.

This time you truly believed it.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natsxaddiction #natasha romanoff smut

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mandyraine · 5 months ago

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4 New books I'm *dying* to read this #Spooktober

What new books are you looking forward to reading this month?

I love thriller/suspense novels, but come October, I’m always looking for something a bit more– dark. I guess that’s why they call it “Spooktober!” View this post on Instagram A post shared by Mandy Webster (@mandy_raine) This Spooktober season, I’m really looking forward to reading the following books: Continue reading 4 New books I’m *dying* to read this #Spooktober

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#@Mandy_Raine #Book Recommendations #Cinderella #Cinderella Retelling #Dark Fairy Tales #Delilah S Dawnson #Emma C Wells #Fairy Tale #Guillotine #October #Rachel Harrison #Reels #So Thirsty #Spooktober #This Girl&039;s a Killer #We Kept Her in the Cellar #WR Gorman

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gfmima · 2 years ago

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c. 東京卍リベンジャーズ | tokyo revengers + f!reader t. you’re WAY out of his leagues and he knows

sano dojo, it reads.

an hour before to your arrival, mikey decided to text you his home address, inviting you to meet him prior to your date at the beach.

it was weird to say the least.

you two already had a habit of meeting at the location itself to save time thanks to his busy schedule and whatnot. your mind overflows with different thoughts all at once — some whisper it was bad news, others reassure it was nothing for you to worry over.

the very last thing you need to do is freak out on such a nice day… or was it? maybe you should’ve brought an umbrella? is it too late to go back? maybe you can ask mikey to bring one just in c—

“can i help you, miss?”

your body tenses up.

a man stands opposite you with an equally clueless look. he holds the door open on stand-by to hear your response until a wave of recognition washes over his face.

“you must be mikey’s girl! hold up… y-you’re mikey’s girl!?” he opens the door wider and welcomes you inside his home with an expression of disbelief. he then introduces himself as your boyfriend’s eldest brother before guiding you to the kitchen where he stayed.

you try to ignore the bizarre looks he sent you and walk two steps behind him. was there something on your face? your hand reaches to grab your pocket mirror.

“oh, mikey~! look who’s here to see you~!” shinichiro says in a sing-song manner, forcing all eyes to be on you now.

you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel the least but self-conscious by their reaction. it wavers from surprise to stupor like they’ve seen a real-life ghost and you can feel your nerves prickle from their intense stares.

with his unruly blond hair obscuring his face and dried drool on his cheek, you would’ve chided him for wasting precious time if his siblings weren’t studying you like a new organism under a microscope.

“i’m not interrupting something, am i, ‘jiro?” you scurry over to his side, holding his forearm like a frightened child.

mikey shakes his head and reached to rest his arm over you immediately, his expression visibly brightening at the sight of you here. he looks at izana, who scoffs at him, and sticks his tongue out as if he wasn’t a full-fledged adult.

“ha! i told you she’s real!”

you tilt your head. huh?

shinichiro offers an apologetic smile for his brother’s idiocy, whereas emma and izana continue to gawk. the pair glance at you, then at mikey, then back at you.

“you’re lying. no way a woman like her would date someone like you. back me up, em!”

“uh, i’m staying out of this.” she raises her hands and backs away. “you two handle whatever this is on your own.”

your boyfriend purses his lips in a serious pout. he turns his back on his older brother, scoffing, “well… you’re just being jealous!”

his comment spurs them to continue arguing like little kids. you stand in the middle of the crossfire as it ensues, greatly confused by the entire ordeal. should you step in?

“i’m super, duper sorry about them. boys are boys, y’know? they’re dumb.” emma’s sheepish tone pulls your focus from the chaos. “so… you must be mikey’s girlfriend! you’re very pretty. i can see why he always talks about you!”

then there was izana… who cuts the conversation short just to look at you closely and demands, “quick! blink twice if he intimidated you to be his girlfriend!”

“is he really not paying you to do this?” is the last thing you bank on to be the first thing your boyfriend’s older brother would say to you.

your mouth opens to give him piece of your mind, though, it promptly closes, not sure of what to tell him. you must have look like a fish out of water as your mind wrestles to process what he said to you.

your foots taps along in an uneven pace, counting down the seconds in your head until rindō came home from his short trip to your go-to restaurant for dinner take-outs.

“what do you mean?” you settle on asking him, as you try to keep your tone neutral as possible.

ran picks a piece of lint off his sleeve and looks at you in the eyes. “what i mean is, he isn’t the most popular with women because of attitude. breaking news, right? and, well, you’re very easy on the eyes. it’s weird to think my own little brother was able to convince a pretty little thing such as you to be his.”

he didn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it did.

he just impressed by how long rindō was able to keep silent about your relationship. he didn’t even realize anything was amiss until he returned one day with you clinging to his arm like a high-strung puppy.

the fact his baby brother — a twenty-one-year-old man — was no longer, a baby, albeit endearing, was baffling.

“i’m not interested in hearing about his dating history. rindō treats me right and that’s all i care about.” the blunt edge in your tone piques his interest.

huh, you weren’t paid to play pretend girlfriend after all. you appear genuinely upset with what he said. still, he can never be too sure. he lived with rindō long enough to know he was just as stubborn to prove him wrong.

“there’s no need for the attitude, sweetheart. i’m just…” ran chooses his next words carefully. “expressing how shocked i am. that’s all. you understand, right? you’re the first girl he brought home and introduced to me — the only one without a three-week expiration. he’s like a changed man.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. what on earth is he trying to imply?

“i’ve got no clue what you did to him but he’s been happier lately.” if you strain your ears, you can hear him offer a tiny, “thank you,” under his breath.

“trust me, the feelings mutual.”

ran shows you a silver of a grin.

despite your cumbersome start, it was obvious he cares for rindō like any other older brother would, putting in the extra effort to embarrass him any way he can. you suppose going here wasn’t a bad idea after all.

delighted with your answer, he offers to show off every baby photo of your boyfriend, especially the unflattering ones. he even lets you take a few pictures with your phone.

“he was so pale then, plump too… he kinda resembles those daifuku mochi, no?”

#sano mikey x reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader

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autumnbell32 · 1 month ago

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-from, “This Girl’s a Killer,” by Emma C. Wells

#currently reading #book excerpt #this girl’s a killer #emma c. wells #books #reading #literature #bookblr #beanstack app #writing #writer #writeblr

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pamwritessometimes · 3 months ago

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Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 6

Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: Language, mentions of complicated birth, blood

A/N: Hi, loves! Sorry for going MIA for a week, but in my defense, I gave you a heads up. 🙈 These next few weeks are unfortunately going to be like that, but I’m trying my best to proofread everything in time. I’ll also reply to everyone as soon as I can!!! Thank you for your patience and support. 🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 5 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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The gunshot cracked through the streets, cutting through the night like a bad omen. You pulled Emma close as your heart was hammering relentlessly in your chest. The silence that followed only sharpened your fear. Eyes shut tight, you forced yourself to breathe, clinging to one thought: Please, don’t let it be Russell. Not like this. Not now. Not when you saw a flicker of hope of not only escaping this nightmare, but also of maybe finally finding some closure for everything left unsaid between you.

Your whole life flashed through your mind, choppy and absurdly fast like a Charlie Chaplin-movie. If it weren’t for the terror, you might’ve laughed at how comically swift and disjointed the images came, like a slapstick comedy, only it wasn’t funny.

Your mind drifted to those first moments, four years ago, that had changed everything. You could see those two unmistakable blue lines on the pregnancy test, clear as an August sky, no room for doubt. You could also see the way your body started to tremble at the weight of it and how you clung to your sister, Anna, who tried her best to comfort you while also nagging you to tell her what’s the matter.

You also remembered the first time you held Emma the day she was born - well, technically the day after she was born. She had decided to make a dramatic entrance, tangling herself in her umbilical cord. You’d been knocked out cold from the emergency C-section, missing the whole thing. In hindsight, probably for the best; your nerves would’ve been shot otherwise. But when you finally held her, all that worry and exhaustion melted away as she looked up at you with those big, curious eyes, and just like that, she had you wrapped around her tiny fingers.

You held her then, almost the same way you were holding her now, though you tried to shove that comparison to the back of your mind.

The memory of your parents’ first meeting with her was also vivid. Your dad, who’d been all fire and brimstone about Russell – and let’s be honest, your unplanned pregnancy – had melted the second he saw Emma’s bright green eyes. You’d never seen him, the tough, no-nonsense mechanic, act so soft. It was like watching a grizzly suddenly turn into a teddy bear. Your mom, of course, was over the moon, but you expected that. She’s always been your biggest cheerleader, besides Anna. Your dad, though, was also someone you could always count on, but there was something different about your bond with him.

As these memories flashed by, it hit you like a ton of bricks: they must be out of their minds with worry. You hadn’t told them about Colter Shaw’s involvement in finding Emma, and they had no clue that calling him was basically inviting Russell into the picture, to invite him into this mess. The irony, of course, being that this very mess had started with him – even if he hadn’t exactly meant for things to spiral into a nightmare.

You can’t help but think back to how you and Russell first met – it felt like fate with a side of fries. He was sitting in a corner booth at the diner where you worked, trying to figure out the menu like it was written in hieroglyphs. That Cream t-shirt of his clung to his broad shoulders in just the right way, and the dim lighting made him look like something out of a movie. A guy who looked that good and had killer music taste? Yeah, you knew you were doomed.

At the time, you were pulling double shifts to scrape together enough to pay for the student loan you took out years ago, feeling every inch of burnout creeping in. But then there was Russell, glancing up at you with a gaze so intense it could’ve burned a hole through the laminated menu. The moment you stepped up to take his order, his eyes locked onto yours like he’d found what he was looking for… and for almost three years, they never really left.

“Y/N?” A voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

Your ears perked up and then the voice spoke up again.

“It’s safe. You can come out now.”

Colter. Calm and steady, as always.

Your eyes flew open and you peeked around the tree and saw the aftermath. There was Colter, standing tall with his gun lowered, surveying the scene. And sprawled on the ground, clutching his shoulder and looking about as smug as a wet rat was Rourke, blood seeping through his fingers. Couldn’t have happened to a better guy.

But Colter wasn’t alone. Officers from the Springland Sheriff’s Department marched in behind him with raised guns, all sporting that famous TV-cop focus. The sheriff himself was there, giving Rourke a look like he was mentally listing all the charges he’d be writing up. His men had Rourke’s goons pinned. Now that their great boss was down, they didn’t seem too keen to put on a fight. Their faces looked like they’d just been sucker-punched by surprise.

And they weren’t the only ones.

You held Emma tight, inching out from behind the tree, eyes scanning frantically until you found Russell. He was there, standing over Rourke, right where the standoff had left them. He seemed unharmed, aside from the bruises and cuts he was already sporting.

Thank God.

He looked just as shocked as you to see his brother here, surrounded by cops. Russell wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with law enforcement – his years at Horizon as a black ops agent made him wary of trusting any man with badges. But today? He looked downright relieved to see so many uniforms.

On the pavement, Rourke gritted his teeth, trying to hold onto whatever shred of authority he had left.

“Shaw, you little –what, you brought some friends?” His voice was strained, all his earlier swagger bleeding out along with the blood from his shoulder.

Russell shot his brother a look that could’ve covered a dozen emotions, then glanced at the walking douche with the pornstache. “Guess you should’ve checked that warehouse a little better.”

The sheriff stepped forward, his face all business as he looked down at Rourke. “James Rourke” he said, his voice tinged with authority as he put the man in handcuffs, “you’re under arrest for kidnapping, assault, conspiracy, human trafficking, and about a dozen other charges I’ll happily review once we’re at the station. Don’t worry, We’ve got just enough time until the feds get here.”

The feds? And human trafficking?

Before you could think any further, Russell stepped closer to you and Emma, and without any hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you two. You could feel how the weight of it all fell off his shoulders as he let himself melt in this moment. He felt that this moment, right here, is going to be something he’ll always remember. You hesitated, but seeing Emma already snuggled up to him, you decided to let yourself lean in. Just a little.

As he held you both, Russell glanced up and spotted Reenie walking alongside Colter. Reenie, no doubt, was behind the intel that finally exposed Rourke. For years, Russell had suspected that Rourke was running something shady, a side hustle no one in Morello’s circle knew about. And he was right. Rourke was overseeing an entire underground trafficking network, bringing in young, vulnerable women, and doing it all without Morello’s knowledge.

Rourke was smart enough to keep his illegal dealings separate from Morello’s empire at Horizon. If Morello had known, he would’ve shut it down immediately, but Rourke kept it quiet, carefully concealed behind the black ops company he worked for. Rourke had always been good at playing both sides. Loyal enough to keep up appearances with Morello, but greedy enough to carve out his own profits on the side. The money was too good to walk away from, and that’s why he kept it hidden so well. He’d threatened Russell to stay quiet, and for a while, Russell had listened, against his better judgment. He regretted it every day.

But the minute he tried to walk away, to cut ties, Rourke made sure he understood that there was no leaving without consequences. Technically, he was Russell’s superior.

If you wanted out, you paid the price.

And that price had been higher than Russell ever expected.

Reenie caught his eye, her lips curving into a subtle but unmistakable smile. He gave her a quick nod – a silent thank-you he knew he could never fully repay. Not to her, and not to Colter.

The sheriff nodded to his team, signaling them to move. Two officers stepped forward, dragging Rourke to his feet with little care for dignity. His eyes flared with anger, but the fight was gone.

“You can try to take me down, but this isn’t over” he snarled. His gaze darted to Russell, who remained let go of the two of you as he faced his ex son of a bitch boss. “You really think you’ve won? You think a few pretty words from your little sheriff buddy will save you? I have people everywhere. I’ll get out. And when I do…”

As he was led past you, Rourke’s gaze landed on you and Emma, his eyes narrowing in a way that made your skin crawl.

Russell’s voice cut through, icy and unshakable. “It’s over, James. With the mountain of evidence I’m about to gift-wrap for the feds, you’re not seeing daylight anytime this century. So get cozy with prison food – and try to make some friends.”

“We know about your little side hustles, Rourke.” Reenie spoke up. “Made sure your bosses do now, too. This’ll stick, for good.”

“Oh, and don’t worry” Russell added with a smirk. “I’ll be sure to send a postcard from the outside.”

Rourke’s expression twisted with contempt as he was led out to the sheriff’s car with the rest of his men, who had been swiftly rounded up by the officers. As the street cleared, silence fell, broken only by the occasional shuffling as the officers began to file out, satisfied that Rourke was finally out of commission.

Colter turned back to you, his face softening as he took in the sight of Emma clinging to you. “You’re alright?” he asked as he looked between you, Russell, and your daughter. It was the first time it seemed to click for him. He had a niece.

“We’re fine” you replied, still sounding like you’d been hit by a truck. The shock was still working its way through you, and you weren’t sure if you were still breathing properly. “Colter, I– there aren’t words. Thank you. How– How did you know where we were? And what happened–”

Colter gave a small, reassuring smile. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I promise I will answer all of them” he said simply. “But you have other issues at hand.” he nodded towards his brother. Russell nodded next to you, and after patting his brother on the shoulder they exchanged a brief hug, awkward and stiff, like two grown men who were both allergic to affection. You couldn’t help but notice that, for a moment, they actually seemed... human.

You didn’t know much about their connection, Russell had always kept his family history under wraps. But you weren’t blind. You could tell there was some sort of tension between them, some unspoken history – but you knew it wasn't the time or place to ask questions. Still, seeing them like this, even for a moment, was kind of... nice. You weren’t sure if it was the whole "brotherly love" thing or just the fact that they managed to put aside whatever baggage they were hauling around. Either way, it was kind of refreshing to see them looking like, well, brothers for once.

After a couple of seconds, Russell stepped back. “How did you pull this off?”

Colter shrugged, a grin slipping onto his face. “Had some favors to cash in from the Springland Sheriff’s Department. Figured they’d be interested in getting their hands on a guy like Rourke after the things Reenie uncovered about him. Turns out, I was right.”

Russell nodded, a newfound respect in his eyes. And at least he now knew where they were. Not even that far away from Idaho Falls. “Guess I owe you one. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You owe me more than one, but we can settle that later.” Colter smirked. “The cops want to take the girls into the hospital for a medical check up. Good luck with convincing them” he smirked and with that, he strolled over to the attorney, Reenie as you recently learned. If you squinted, you could’ve sworn there was something more in the way they spoke to each other. But Colter was right. There were more pressing things to focus on than whatever unspoken story was between them.

The cool night air hit you like a shock as you exhaled deeply, letting the chilly wind breeze through your body. It was over. Really, truly over. You turned to Russell, overwhelmed with a mix of gratitude, relief and unresolved tension. You both stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do with the silence between you. It was the first time you were face-to-face with reality, without the distraction of searching for Emma or pretending not to notice the elephant in the room.

“I know you don’t want to“ he began, holding up a hand before you could get a word in. “But you and Emma need to check into the hospital. Just to be sure she’s okay, no hidden bumps or bruises.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t try to be a hero. Do it for her, if not for yourself. And…maybe a little for me, too” His eyes softened as he looked at you both. “I need to know you’re safe. After everything that just went down, I don’t think I could handle one more surprise tonight.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing down on him. It wasn’t the usual tough-guy act, but something raw and real.

With a sigh, you nodded. “Fine. But only because you’re looking at me like you’re about to pass out on the spot.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “But only on one condition. You come with us.”

Russell blinked, clearly thrown off by your request. He probably expected you to give him some kind of cold shoulder routine, maybe even throw in a few snide comments for good measure. But no, instead, here you were, asking him to join you and Emma at the hospital. Progress? Maybe. Or maybe you were just too tired to argue anymore. Either way, the surprise was written all over his face.

Still, he smiled faintly as a reluctant agreement when he glanced at Emma standing next to you. She was staring up at him, her little face so adorably and comically pleading, showing that she was clearly not ready to let him go. Goddamn puppy eyes, he thought. And they were working. “Guess I don’t have much choice, huh?”

You gave him a look that was part teasing, part serious. “Not really.”

A few deputies had gathered around, ready to escort you to Springland Hospital. Russell glanced at them briefly, then let out a small amused smile.

As the three of you made your way toward the cars, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. Things weren’t magically fixed between you and Russell, far from it. There was still so much left unsaid, so much tension hanging in the air between you two. But maybe, this was a step in the right direction.

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Anna had been pacing for what felt like a century. Two days of no news, no word, no nothing. First, Emma vanished. Then you. Anna knew you better than anyone, that sister-sense always worked well between you, so she could feel the weight of your usual nervous, anxious energy magnified tenfold. After Emma went missing, it was only natural that her thoughts veered to the worst-case scenario – what if you had done something… irreversible?

She’d been on the phone with your parents non-stop, but no one knew a damn thing. They have been just as on the edge. You just disappeared, leaving no trace behind. And Anna? She wasn’t about to leave your house. No way. Someone had to be here, in case you both randomly showed up like nothing happened.

It had been two days. Two days of staring at the door, waiting for it to open, praying you and Emma would walk in, hand in hand, ready to explain what the hell just happened.

Her thoughts stopped, a glimmer of hope flashing through her chest as she heard the sound of keys rattling at the door. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. It had to be you. No one else had a key besides her and your parents.

With a mix of joy and anger ready to spill out in one messy confession, Anna hurried over to the door, ready to throw herself at you, hugging you tight and probably swearing at you for disappearing without a word.

But when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there.

No, it was him. The one face she swore she’d punch the next time she saw him.

“What the actual hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her words laced with enough venom to make anyone think twice about speaking.

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Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 7)

Finally, you reached out, your fingers brushing his. “Stay” you said quietly. “We still have a lot to figure out, but... I’d like you to stay. At least until she wakes up.”

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And they’re finally out of the trenches! It took some time, but don’t worry, the journey isn’t over yet. The next chapter is one of my personal favorites (I mean, check out the sneak peek!).

Read Chapter 7 here

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