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#she was only a bear for two days
scorchedcandy · 5 months
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How many times have you seen almost the face of someone you loved most
and deemed it worthy only of destruction for the crime of being almost
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hypogryffin · 11 months
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side-by-side
#persona 3#p3#mitsuru kirijo#p3 aigis#i have THOUGHTS and FEELINGS about the potential of mitsuai as a dynamic#emotions even#just. listen. they are the only two who can never stop fightjng shadows. who will never have peace and never leave the other world behind#everyone else has a choice. maybe akihiko doesnt feel like he does maybe he feels like he has to get stronger and keep figjting#so that no one he knows will ever get hurt again. but its a DECISION on his part to stay fighting shadows. and everyone else has left their#fighting days behind. but aegis and mitsuru??#aegis is a shadow suppression unit. she was created to fight shadows and even if she has a life and feelings and friends she will never#NOT be a robot made to fight and kill shadows. she can never stop. it is a part of her forever.#and mitsuru theoretically has a choice but. does she really? does she really? the moment she awoke to her persona she was cursed#now as the last kirijou alive she has a burden no one else could possibly bear. no one can take responsibility for her grandfathers sins.#nor for her fathers. nor for every person who worked at kirijou ergonomics no matter their innocence. no one but her.#she cant stop fighting shadows until the kirijou name is clear of guilt. and that will never happen until shadows stop existing#everyone else who survived sees have the option to put their weapons down. whether they choose it is on them but they CAN choose#mitsuru and aegis will never be so lucky#just. G-D! G-D! gnaws my arm off
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blackjack-15 · 3 months
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I KNEW NAT WAS PREGNANT i did not know she knew she was but i knew it!
RICHIE NO HONEY
"is that it?" *boink* "yeah" the bear is a comedy. full stop.
ebra you can do it baby i believe in you and i love you
and carmy's still cooking, still working. him and ebra.
oh syd's mum isn't there. she's not there is she she's dead or she's left or something
that was an Adorable story and i wanna see Syd imitate her mum who is definitely dead
oh candles. yeah. so why did she talk about her in the present tense to marcus? hiding it? hiding means there's prolly some trauma, and her mum wouldn't have been that old if she was the same age as her dad (he said they were both twenty when they started dating) so i'm gonna say sickness. might have been sudden, might have been prolonged, but sickness took her is my guess
"carm?" oh. i think i know who thiiiiiis issss
"claire. hi." yes, yes i did know who this is. that's not an enthusiastic reaction from carmy, but to be absolutely fair, he's rarely enthusiastic.
he is however very nervous here -- defensive posture, his face is red, tense jaw, etc. not sure these two were friends when they knew each other -- not saying they were enemies or anything, i'm just not getting the sense that they hung out much
mmm. based on this convo with syd and her dad? he's never been to The Beef in his LIFE. it would come up that they've closed down his Usual Sunday Place to do this if he had. adding that to the list of chekov's guns yet to be fired, and it's gonna be a friggin chekov's cannon ball depending on when that fuse is finally lit
"i have a partner!" "and you trust him" "yes!" gosh dangit. the subtext is text all right but like....conflict is coming
"i'm older than her now" oh land her mum died young then. and she does not believe her dad when he says she's just as wonderful as her mum was
i'm really hoping richie is gonna take a shower. that cannot be healthy
kay still talking with claire! great that doesn't make me nervous about this season at all!
"you wanted to fix [the broken arm]?" "i wanted to understand it" a very valid viewpoint, not knocking it.
but it does show the difference between them -- carmy, like in the party with the kids, like when he's checking in with richie and natalie and syd and tina, wants to help people, wants to fix stuff for them. claire wants to understand how things work -- two different approaches, two different foci.
oh. mm.
okay. okay. okay.
first off, carmy's "i should really listen to myself" about telling that kid not to become a chef? further proof if you ask me that carmy will end up stepping back from professional kitchens in some way
but
if someone so obviously does not want to be doing what they're doing -- if someone says they should not be a chef, for example, and then says that they're opening a restaurant? the first question most people would ask is: "why are you doing that then"
what claire says is "you're doing the thing!" which. i don't actually have words for that response. what in the brain-dead -- i don't care if that's what you remember of him from school or being kids or whatever, how on earth is that the response?
"because you're the bear. and i remember you." spit bucket please!
who the eff says that in a grocery store to someone holding frozen veal stock
he has absolutely no idea how to take that, wow.
in fact, yeah, i don't think carmy has any idea how to deal with personal attention like that, and he needs people to be fairly direct b/c he's sort of oblivious when it comes to how people think/act around him specifically -- he seems to understand People as a General Concept pretty well, just not as they relate to him -- which speaks to abominable self-esteem and i'm going to guess that when he says "i never had any girlfriends" it's not because a few girls (it was probably only two or three, especially being as Carmy as he is, but still) weren't interested in him, it's because he absolutely did not notice, God bless him and keep him
"i'll just get your contact information" oh here it issss here's the thing i know about
and they were so careful to have him recite his number earlier so we'd know what it is
"01....0....2." it's a VERY deliberate choice to give her the wrong number. this isn't a spur of the moment choice, he thought this through. and when she repeats it back and he has the chance to say "oh no 01 sorry", he just says "yup", no hesitation. they're emphasizing to the view that he's okay leaving it there, that this is done on purpose, that he's lying and that he knows he's lying
now there are a multitude of reasons for him doing this. if you think he does actually want contact with her, then it could be he doesn't believe she actually would want to talk to him, he doesn't have any idea how to handle her and is running, etc.
you could even say that this is classic Carmy repression -- he's not letting himself do something he wants to do because he's repressing the desire for it. that one's probably the strongest argument -- really the only valid argument -- on that side
but.
i think that the reason to have this in this episode specifically? is because he and syd have that conversation about the three-star call in this episode
remember what he says? first 10 seconds feels like a panic attack, b/c you know you'll have to keep it up. your brain skips any sort of joy or celebration, and settles instead on dread. that's carmy's experience with getting an honor few get in the culinary world, and it shows that he's actually not happy in being a Chef-with-a-capital-C. this episode fairly beats that into the viewer, honestly
i think it's the same thing here. he knows if he gives her his number that he'll have to keep it up. his brain skips any sort of happiness and settles on dread. and -- finally taking his own advice here, probably because he just mentioned he should take his own advice, carmy is quite introspective, he's just a little Blocked when it comes to his own emotions -- he decides that it's not worth it. the panic and the dread and the sheer effort it would take to maintain this is not worth it
this conversation is not shot like it's easy. carmy's leaning on the side of the freezer like he needs something to physically prop himself up. the lighting is great for claire, who's comfortable, but it washes carmy out, makes him look even more tired.
full disclosure, i don't know anything more than the fact that she goes behind his back (!!! i will have words!!) in the coming episodes sometime to get his real number, that's the extent of my knowledge.
but even without knowing that, watching this conversation? this isn't a full-fledged chekov's gun, this is at most a chekov's water pistol. she's gonna be here, but she's not gonna be omnipresent. her presence -- which i'm guessing will work largely as a distraction, pulling carmy away from The Bear, as well as being a Specter of the Past -- will cause conflict, rather than build a relationship. shot in the dark work, but given that we're shown how Carmy has a problem going all-or-nothing, and last season he went overboard on the "all" part of that, i'm guessing this season she'll be used to demonstrate the "nothing" part of his personality
which will cause problems and conflict, yes, and also provide an opportunity for the other chefs in the kitchen to grow into the roles they'll need to fill in carmy's eventual (permanent) exit from the kitchen. i get the feeling that the sign for "sorry" introduced here is gonna get quite a bit of airtime
this is long and rambly, but yeah! that's episode 2 -- two very relaxed season openers, i'll note -- we've got 8 to go, and i can feel the un-caged bear getting restless enough to start causing a ruckus....
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orchideae · 2 months
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1) Opens up drafts with my head empty, ready to be flooded, not knowing where I'll go. 2) 30 seconds later: Okay but I will go feral any day of my life over Perilous Trail, and the fierce dichotomy of Xiao and Yelan. While they're far from being 'the same', they both view themselves as soldiers in one way or another (it's a very difficult word to use for Yelan, so I'm using it very liberally and very loosely), they have both suffered losses on the 'battlefield' and carry the burden thereof in their own ways. And yet they stand so firmly in opposition throughout the entirety of that questline up until the very end of the 'the end of the line' conclusion of the quest. Yes, I know that she offers him her gratitude in its aftermath and it is genuine, but she still never agrees with him and the decision that he made moments earlier. It simply 'worked out' because of Zhongli's interference, he's the only reason it worked out. And it's because of that, that she doesn't give him a hell of a hard time (obviously she can't go down there, but imagine the inner frustration of severe extents; when you condemn someone who you can't even see anymore). In the same way that she would do to anyone who would sacrifice themselves for others, but in this case, I think it's 'beautiful' that it's to Xiao; the one who seems most adamant to do so (which honestly, fits into the contract that the Yakshas chose to sign with Morax; 'the ultimate sacrifice' to protect for Liyue; 'for Liyue', and Liyue has always centered itself around its people), the one who everyone reveres (and so does she, as she notes in her voiceline, 'if I ever have the honor to fight alongside') and respects for good reason, she stands against him, because in that moment, regardless of his status, he makes a call that she considers wrong. And he doesn't even... fight her on it very fiercely, and that's what actually hurts me the most, it's as if the following line hit the nail directly on the head?
"Besides, if you were really so determined to end it all, you wouldn't have given us the opportunity to share our opinions."
#[ mini study. ] that which hides inside her… that constant calling; it is the blood of heroes which has been howling for 500 years.#[ and then shortly after 'the point is: it's not time for drastic measures yet.' ]#[ /shakes ven into another dimension. ]#[ i thought the ost at the end of perilous ruined me enough. but tale of the yakshas may actually ruin me more. ]#[ also i love how i typed up the bit of the contract and 'for liyue' and zhongli in my head isn't rattling at bars but-- ]#[ he's sipping his tea (the equivalent). one day ven. i /promise/ you. one day you'll get him from me. ]#[ he'll likely be the 2nd genshin blog to run alongside yelan if/when i get to being able to run two again. ]#[ but until then. can we talk about the dynamic of xiao and yelan until we're blue in the face? i'd like to do that too. ]#[ i type this as if i'm perfectly chill but i'm not. i'm really not. the concept of self sacrifice and sacrifice as a whole. ]#[ BETWEEN THESE TWO. drives me /insane/. and part of me sits here and goes-- ]#[ god. what happened with yelan and her team down there? we know that despite every plan she ever made and prepared-- ]#[ their enemies (WHAT WERE YOU FIGHTING??) were too powerful and more specifically-- too smart. too calculating. ]#[ ... and too strong (okay literally what on earth were you fighting? are we talking the khaenri'ah soldiers? like what? or abyss mages?) ]#[ (but abyss mages don't exactly entirely fit the description in her story. ugh. UGH). ]#[ any way-- it was her and her team. /they/ all died and she didn't. yanfei describes it as... ]#[ 'knowing that your life was saved when others weren't'. surely the millilith didn't intervene or happen to arrive. yelan must've... ]#[ gotten away? or something? but that doesn't feel quite right. but i'm just sitting here left with the idea of... when you lead a team. ]#[ you bear the responsibility of even their lives. and yet despite bearing that responsibility; she's exactly the one who lived. ]#[ the only one who did. that has to be a /stupid/ burden. it's like the captain who has to go down with the ship but is the only one... ]#[ who gets to live. only one who gets to survive. i just. ]#[ i didn't think i'd love a character as much as this one. where did she come from; jesus christ. ]
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anonymocha · 11 days
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suddenly seeing parallels between kumar and medicine pocket
#wonderful day to be a kaalaa baunaa x medicine pocket shipper#you know the difference between kumar and mp#kumar did the things she did out of vengeance — a cause — a purpose#and a desire to destroy others or oneself#mp does the insane shit they do because its FUN#because they have the capabilities to bear it#essentially because they can#considering their dialogue and hobby; they definitely hold life at a high value#perhaps careless#but honest#both defo insane and self-concerned#just in different flavors#hence why i think shipping kb x mp is either an angst abyss or healing journey#mp is smart and emotionally mature despite their mad kid behavior#but yes definitely a victim of impulse and chaotic practices#meanwhile kaalaa baunaa is a woman of method and routine#in research or in life#these two are kind of opposites...#mp shows a petty and nasty front but behind it lies a surprisingly mature and insightful self#kb maintains monumental composure and mysterious but friendly front#although inside i am sure many many things eat away at her#especially kumar#oh ESPECIALLY kumar#she probably acts all cool and level-headed saying things like “life goes on”#she starts to fail to follow her own philosophies and drown herself in work#because staying still will only make the memories of kumar manifest louder#she relies on her routines for comfort; whats always there and always will be#but shes tiring herself out because she cannot entirely confront the idea that kumar is gone#because kumar's presence IS a part of her routine — her methods — course — orbit#mp is like a replacement — better or worse? fuck around n find out
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psychoticwillgraham · 1 month
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tfw ur so good at drag that ur very presence shakes the head honcho of the scene to her very core bc my potential to be a real star terrifies her bc she’s not and bc im better than her. who also tries to sabotage my career opportunities and cut my career at the knees so I’ll never find success just bc she’s pissed that I’m extremely beloved here and she isn’t. imagine having THAT big of an inflated ego from years of being coddled and being around yes men who do her every bidding, that a simple, tiny dog hair covered king, strikes that much fear into her.
I’ll definitely say that my fans are PASSIONATE like seriously. like ppl came to the show JUST for me and agreed to all vote for me so that I could finally get my flowers. I rlly hope somebody got a video of when the audience vote for the win was, bc my ears were ringing after the applause.
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aidenwaites · 2 months
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I want you to imagine The Bear but instead of an Italian sandwich restaurant in Chicago it's a fishcamp in nascar country. Now you know exactly how I grew up
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silhouettecrow · 6 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 273
Adjective: Sleepy
Noun: Bear
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Sleepy: needing or ready for sleep; showing the effects of sleep; inducing sleep, or soporific; (of a place) without much activity; (of a business, organization, or industry) lacking the ability or will to respond to change, or not dynamic
Bear: a large, heavy mammal that walks on the soles of its feet, having thick fur and a very short tail, and bears are related to the dog family but most species are omnivorous; (informal) a name for Russia; the constellation Ursa Major or Ursa Minor; a large, heavy, cumbersome man; (informal) a gay or bisexual man with a burly physique and a large amount of body hair; (dated) (informal) a rough, bad-mannered, or uncouth person; (informal) (US) something that is very difficult or unpleasant to deal with; (stock market) a person who forecasts that prices of stocks or commodities will fall, especially a person who sells shares hoping to buy them back later at a lower price
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theophagie-remade · 1 year
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Being angry at someone and carrying all that anger and frustration with you every day and that person not even knowing because they never registered what they did or said to you as wrong or impactful and not getting why you're the way that you are with them is the worst
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westernsunshine · 1 year
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People who idolise celebrity couples and are like “they make me believe in love 🥰” I’m happy for you but I cannot relate. My godparents (who can be best described as an unhinged cat lady and a short king) are the only reason I believe in love
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ladyofpembroke · 1 year
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Literally so exhausted from today and having family for thanksgiving
My one cousin’s kids are completely out of control, luckily my other cousin’s are better, although still young kids and the five of them together in my house is giving me (and my dad and sister and mom even though she won’t admit it) a huge headache. Like yes they’re family but I wish they’d respect that this is our house and there are rules and not to leave mountains of their things in every room. (Also my poor cats are terrified)
Also a day of walking a historical site with 5 kids including 4 under 7 years old is a lot.
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fazcinatingblog · 9 days
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Don't you hate it when your boss is like "do not send this out until I approve the invoice" and then 5-7 business days later, she says to increase the invoice by $5 and
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bigfishthemusical · 2 months
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for once im sooo glad to be going to my parents house for the weekend, i had some shit I needed help sorting out last week when I decided I would go. But things just keep on happening. And this isn’t even things I can talk about to like a therapist because you need to know the absolute full sam lore for any of it to be significant.
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hoshigray · 6 months
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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr
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“No.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”
“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 
A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 
But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.
Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 
“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”
And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 
That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 
“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”
“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.
However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”
“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 
Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”
No words, only tapping keys.
“Y/n?”
The keys become louder. 
“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 
Louder.
“Y/n!!”
A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.
The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”
You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.
“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”
“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”
You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 
“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”
You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”
“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 
You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…
After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 
“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 
“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 
“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”
“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…
Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”
“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”
The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.
“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.
"I know you are."
"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”
A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 
No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”
You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”
“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”
“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”
You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.
“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“
“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”
“…….Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“
“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”
Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”
“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”
Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 
You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.
….Three Hours Later….
The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 
Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 
The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.
What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?
“Ah, look who’s awake.”
You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.
Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!
Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 
A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”
“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 
Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 
“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”
He? Wait, wait, we??
The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 
You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”
It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.
“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 
You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 
The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?
“…Yes, I do.”
“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”
Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”
He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 
The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”
“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.
“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”
You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”
Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 
“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 
So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 
You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!
“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 
Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!
“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”
“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 
Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 
Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.
“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 
As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.
So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 
Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 
“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”
You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 
Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 
“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 
He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 
Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”
“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…
He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 
Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 
It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”
“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 
And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!
“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 
Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”
When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!
“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!
…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 
With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 
It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 
Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!
“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”
Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.
“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”
You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…
Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?
You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.
A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 
And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.
Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡
Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?
Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 
You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…
However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 
And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.
Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.
SR + TF
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inkskinned · 6 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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groguspicklejar · 4 months
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141!mafia au reverse harem where price keeps reader in his office as his only, telling the reader that he's going to make sure she's treated better than her scumbag husband. she gets released back to their shitty nyc apartment and finds the boys packing her stuff up, saying price bought out a better one in the upper west side. the only thing is that there must be a "meeting" once a week to "check up" on her because they "feel bad" wink wink
so... much... dick... forgive me, for i have sinned... again
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"everybody stop touching my stuff and put everything down!"
you're surprised when they actually listen to your command and do as you say with wide eyes. Gaz, Soap and Ghost each carefully put their box on the ground. perhaps it's the furious expression on your face that compelled them to do so but you don't care. you just want them to put your things back where they found them.
so you turned to their leader; Price.
"what do you mean you sold my apartment?" you asked. "where do you expect me to go?"
this was the only place you could afford. with the divorce proceedings draining the majority of your funds (because your husband, soon-to-be ex, is a fucking prick and a selfish bastard), you've managed to keep this place and keep it in good enough shape.
it's not as big or as modern and sleek like your husband's house. just a two bedroom apartment with a cramped living room, bathroom and a small kitchen. a far downgrade from your lush lifestyle, but it's not much different from what you've had to grow up in, so the cosiness is somewhat comforting.
so for that to be taken away from right under your nose too, well...
you don't know if you're going to cry out of rage or despair. you've just come back after being temporarily relocated to one of Price's safehouses. you didn't expect to find your house sold. just another wrench in the already rusted cogwheels of your life.
"to your new place." Price holds up a bundle of keys with a smile. "a better one. much safer than this one, at least."
you only took the keys because the landlord was right outside, waiting for everything to be moved out and you had nowhere else to go. you held back the tears during the ride and wouldn't let any of the boys touch you. you wouldn't even talk to Gaz, who you favoured the most out of all of them.
"i was just following orders, love." you shift away from him when he offers you the tall cup of strawberry milkshake in his hand, ignoring the sadness in his eyes. "i didn't set out to hurt you."
you don't look at him at all. you couldn't bear his sad brown eyes but you also had to remind yourself that if Price gave the order, he'd probably kill you in your sleep.
your new house wasn't so bad. like Price said, it was better; you liked that you had a bigger, more lavish bathroom (one that had a hot tub, no less), as well as a study. at least, you have a nice place to work from home now. and just like he said, it's safer. you were slightly impressed by the electric fence and gate.
slightly. you still can't over the fact that they sold your old place without at least giving you a warning first. despite that, you settled in fairly quickly. though, you were surprised when you got a visit from Ghost within the first week.
"just a precaution, love." he said, pushing past you at the door.
"is this to make sure that i'm not plotting revenge on you guys?" he snorts at that and rolls his eyes.
you were a bit on edge with the visits. they came to see you at random days of the day but the sequence was the same. first, it was Ghost. he stayed for an hour, checking if everything in your apartment was in working order and bugging your house for extra security but he doesn't tell you that part.
Soap followed the next week. he was a tad bit more enthusiastic than Ghost, which you found endearing, even if you snubbed him the whole time. he pouted when you gave him one-word or dry answers but he kept eating all of your cereal because you banned him from touching the stove after he nearly burned the house down while trying to make noodles.
Price was next. he drove you to work and took you back home. you came to discover that he has less patience than he leads on because he threatened to throw you over the shoulder in front of your coworkers when you refused to get in the car.
Gaz was last and you think that was intentional because he brought flowers and a box of chocolates. you gave him the most sour expression as you let him in. he gave you your space, but he made it known that he doesn't like living with the knowledge that you're upset with him.
you were rightfully pissed at all four of them for uprooting your life when you had just began to pick up the pieces.
the cycle continues. Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz. in that exact order. eventually, you got used to it. you got used to having their presence in your new home at different hours of the day. they offered to help you with anything you needed because they felt guilty for disrupting your life so much even though, in Price's words "you're far better off here than you were with that muppet of yours anyway" and it's hard not to disagree with that sentiment.
but it's just that even if they do somehow make your life easier, they make it ten times as difficult at the same time.
because ever since that day in your soon-to-be ex-husband's office, you can't remember the last time you scratched the growing ache between your thighs. none of them bring up that day and you're too embarrassed to ask them to give back your sex toys.
so you're stuck having to deal with four of the most attractive men you've ever met walking around your place, cooking for you, fixing your wobbly chair, your water heater and coffee machine. helping you get from work and home safely. bringing you cute little gifts to apologize. playing guard dog from unwanted attention-seeking men.
it was hard to endure, especially when you were ovulating.
and unbeknownst to you, it was difficult on them too. you don't think they had a hard time watching you walk around in nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, or a flimsy nightgown whenever they came to visit at odd hours of the day they did that on purpose but it was to their detriment? you don't think their mouths watered when they watched you doing nothing but lay down on a sofa and read a book? god, what they wouldn't do to spread you open and make you read out loud while they had their way with you.
Soap, of course, could barely contain his urges but after three months of this, he caved and had you cornered in your bathroom while you were doing your nightly routine.
"just the tip." he pleads softly, kneading your breasts. your thighs clench as you feel his mouth on your shoulder. "please, bonnie, ye cannae make you watch ye being all sexy and not expect me tae do anything about it."
you watch him through the bathroom mirror, your own eyes wide and pupils blown. your belly tingles with desire just thinking about him taking you here. "j-just the tip?"
he hummed into your neck, already forgetting the statement, already unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down.
"won't take long but i'll make ye feel good just like last time. remember?" he wrapped a hand around your waist and you felt his cock gliding between your wet folds. your hands grip the sink so tightly, you think you might break it. "when i took ye on the desk in front of yet scumbag of a husband?"
your eyes widen and you look away from the mirror, heat blazing your cheeks. it's the first time any of them ever acknowledged that day. Soap grips your jaw and makes you face forward again and you catch his wicked smile.
"ah, ye do remember." you bite your lip as he rolls his hips, his cock moving slowly through your folds, catching against your swollen clit. "i think about it every day." he confesses, watching your expression twist in pleasure. the head of his cock catches at your slit, slowly pushing in. "made myself cum all over my hand just thinking about the way ye made a right mess of Gaz's mouth while i played with these pretty tits."
he makes an emphasis on those last words by pulling at the front of your robe to expose your breasts and then proceeds to fondle them. you feel more of his length pushing inside your cunt before pulling away. he does it again, sliding a little more each time.
"th-this is not just the t-" your words cut off into a long moan when suddenly, he thrusts deep. the stretch felt so good, it drowned every protest you had lined up.
"should i stop?" he whispers, pressing more into you.
you moaned, head tipping back on your shoulder. "no."
you mewled at the salacious noises rising as he fucked you against the sink and made you watch as you cum. he groaned in your ear as your orgasm triggered his and he spilled deep inside your pussy.
after Soap, all hell broke loose. you went from dealing with a near-four month dry spell to getting stuffed with a cock almost every day of the week.
Ghost took you on the couch the next week. he drilled you into the cushions while muttering something about making him suffer as you walked around in practically nothing and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. not your fault he was stuck having to watch you.
you told the same thing to Price the following week when he had you in the garden. you were terrified that someone might hear you but he told you that "you don't have neighbours, darling." he had far too much fun making you squirt all over his cock after he laid you down on your poor flower bush.
Gaz used the excuse of helping you bake till you found yourself gasping for air and bent over the kitchen counter. there was flour caked all over both of you but he couldn't care less about his expensive suit when he had you tightening around his cock as you begged for more until he was sure he was forgiven. he really did give the best apologies.
living in your new place didn't seem so bad anymore. you hardly had to worry about a thing, so you could definitely get used to this.
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banners by @cafekitsune mafia!141 masterlist offer a note in the picklejar
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