#not when I don't think it'll be a good faith conversation; when I don't think it's a disagreement in how to make things better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kamiversee · 2 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 23 || The Party Era

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, violence, drugs, & slight mention of alcohol consumption.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.8k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THAT INTIMATE morning, you and Gojo consider yourselves to be on decent enough terms. Of course, you still hate him-- or, at least you think you do, and he slowly begins to change in a good way.

When he talks to you, which is more often than before since you're no longer trying to ignore his existence unless necessary, his tone is always soft and filled to the brim with affection. You try not to bring up the fact that he claimed to be in love with you but it was extremely difficult not to think about it.

Blackmail or not, you can't just ignore his confession.

Shoko mentioned that he was in love with you before but you didn't want to believe her so, now that he's told you, you genuinely don't know how to feel.

His words echo in your brain constantly, so much so that it grows annoying. It's like you can't unhear it-- Gojo really said he was in love with you. It wasn't a dream, wasn't something someone else told you he said, and it wasn't a lie, Gojo Satoru confessed his love to you.

You hate it though.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him.

A sigh escapes you as you think about it. By this point in time, it's roughly been two weeks since that faithful morning and you can't stop thinking about it. You have so many questions, wondering to yourself when it'll all make sense.

Then, there's also the longing you feel in your chest to see Choso again.

Of course, you haven't stopped thinking about him. You can't wait for the list to be over. The fact that there are only two people left makes it feel like a lot less pressure on you.

From here on out, you just want everything to go smoothly-- that's all you ask for.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In the two weeks you spent at peace with Gojo, you and him have talked about who your next target should be; Sukuna or Nanami?

He tried to explain that Sukuna would be easier than Nanami but you quickly told him that you're not sure you trust his difficulty levels when no one you've seduced has been that hard. Well, with the exception of Mr. Fushiguro, seducing him took weeks of you pretending you had some kind of assignment to complete.

But even so, you still managed to pull that off. If anything, you felt a little more confident in yourself about seducing the last two people, thinking it'd be a nice walk in the park from here on out.

With this newfound confidence in yourself, you tried telling Gojo that it didn't matter which order you seduced the last two in. "Almost every difficulty level you've given me so far has been wrong, y'know..." You told him over the phone.

Though you couldn't see it, his lips pulled into a pout, "That's not true, sweets... Suguru was medium, no?"

"No, Satoru, he was easy..." You hum, "The only reason he'd be considered anything close to medium is because I had to get used to his uhm... teasing."

Gojo smiles foolishly at the way you say his name, his heart swelling in his chest over such a simple conversation with you, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He hums, "Anyway, it's still up to you who you wanna go for first, I was just sayin' Sukuna will be easier."

You sigh, "How so?"

"Well for starters, he's having a party this Thursday so like..." Gojo shrugs sheepishly on the other side of the phone, "If you're free, you could come there with me and meet him."

"Uhuh... And what about Nanami?" You question as you jot things down in your journal, your body comfortably laid out across your bed.

"Hmmmm..." Gojo hums dramatically in thought, "I think there's a bar he goes to every weekend?"

"You think?" Your eyes narrow, "I need you to be sure."

"I'm like ninety-nine point nine percent sure." He says, "He goes on Friday nights so, y'know..."

"Are you suggesting that I formally meet Sukuna and Nanami, then decide who I want to sleep with first?" You ask for clarification.

"Pretty much, yeah."

You look around your room for a second in thought before shrugging, "Alright, sounds like a plan."

Gojo smiles, "Really? So... you do realize this means you'll be going to a party with me, right?"

"Okay?"

Curiosity sparks within him, "Do you even like parties?"

"Eh, I haven't had enough friends to want to go recently. But, I used to go to them a lot during Freshman year." You explain casually, earning a hum from him.

"Aww, and you didn't invite meee?" Gojo whines.

"I didn't know you, Satoru..." You sigh, finding yourself smiling ever so slightly at his silliness, "We literally met this semester."

"Sure about that?" He asks as if you don't recall talking to him for the first time early that August.

"Uhm, yes?" You arch a brow, "What, do you remember us talking before this year or something?"

"Nah." He hums, "But I do remember seeing you around a lot."

You begin to close your journal, "Really?"

"Mhm."

"And you never said hi?" You tease, mocking his earlier joke to you.

Gojo chuckles nervously, "I was too shy."

"Oh please." Your eyes roll, "You? Shy? Yeah right." A scoff leaves your lips in reaction to his claims.

"I'm serious." He emphasizes.

"Whatever..." You decide to brush off the topic. The phone call has lasted long enough so, you try to end it, "Anywho, we have a plan all worked out so text me the details for this party and I'll see you then."

"Aww," Gojo pouts again, "You're hanging up so soon?"

"Yes."

"C'mon, I wanted to talk some more..."

You scoff and your voice is sarcastic as you respond, "Skill issue."

Gojo bursts out laughing, "Seriously?"

"Suck it up pretty boy," You joke further, "We'll talk later."

He smiles from ear to ear, "Oh? You think I'm pretty?"

"Bye Satoru." You say flatly.

He sighs heavily and gives up, "Bye sweetheart." There's then a second of silence as you move the phone away from your ear but his next words make you freeze, "I love you."

Your heart pulses strongly, "...If you're expecting me to say it back, you're going to be disappointed."

He chuckles lightly, "I don't expect you to say it back, jus' want to make sure you don't forget."

You couldn't possibly forget that. "Right, okay, bye." The phone is quickly removed from your ear to end the call and then you toss the device across the bed.

Your heart is beating so rapidly for some reason. You do not feel the same way for him but that doesn't change the fact that hearing those words from someone makes you feel all tingly inside.

After only a second or two of gushing at his words, you return to your usual neutral mindset and pick your journal up. Your body slides off the bed and you walk to the drawer you keep it in, making sure to lock it as you place the item inside. Then, you sigh and head back to your bed.

Flopping down face first, you groan into your pillow-- wondering how the rest of this will play out. It feels weird to be on speaking terms with Gojo again. You can't exactly say you missed it but you also couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, even though the conversation wasn't long.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

With that, the rest of the week leading up to Thursday went by in a blur like always. Your schoolwork hardly ever overwhelmed you since you had that very well organized and for once, life somewhat felt like it was entering an era of peace again.

However, deep down inside you still missed Choso.

Not talking to him daily or hardly ever anymore really made you remember how boring your free time was. Perhaps that's why Thursday came so fast...

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, your hands tracing over the silhouette this expensive dark red dress provided for you-- the item being something Gojo bought for you the very second you told him you weren't sure what to wear.

For someone who so easily deposited money into your account every time you slept with someone and bought you things the very second you made even the slightest complaint, you wondered what the hell he was in debt for.

Perhaps all of the people on the list truly couldn't be paid with money? Even so, you can't help but question what the hell he did to these men to the point where payment in the form of sexual satisfaction was established.

Toji is the only person on the list that you know the backstory for but, even then you still don't know how sexual satisfaction was agreed as a method of payment. And to add to those questions, does Gojo tell the men after you sleep with them that you were his form of payment?

If so... wouldn't that technically mean Choso should know about that?

You groan slightly as you get confused just thinking about it. It's like you're missing so much information here. The entire thing is steadily starting to make less and less sense as you go on. Not to mention the fact that he said he deleted the video of you a long time ago.

Does that mean he considered letting you go from the list? How long has he had the video erased from his phone?

You finally shake out of your thoughts when the man in question sends you a text, the chime from your cell prompting you to turn your head to the idle device on your bathroom counter. You pick it up to see a simple text that reads; 'I'm downstairs, sweetheart'.

You simply leave the man on read before making sure you have everything and heading out of your bathroom. Once you make it out of your bedroom, you spot Shoko typing away on her laptop in the living room.

The sound of you closing your room door makes her turn her head back to look at you. She gives you a wolf whistle and flashes that pretty smile of hers at you, "Heyyy beautiful." She greets teasingly.

You smile, "Hey roomie, how do I look?"

"For a party hosted by Sukuna, I'd say pretty damn good." It's no surprise that she knows who's hosting the party you're going to, Shoko always seems to be up to date with those kinda things.

A chuckle leaves your lips while you make your way to the front door, "Thank you but, I'm surprised you're not coming."

She shrugs, "I have like four assignments due tonight and my professor is a complete bitch about turning things in late." A little frown pulls at her lips, "Any other day, I'd totally go with you though."

"Maybe next time," You suggest, smiling at her, "Oh, and, I know this is a weird question but like, do you know his full name?"

"Who, Sukuna?" Shoko asks, raising a brow.

"Yeah." You nod. The memory of Choso hardly ever speaking about the guy he's supposedly related to runs through your head and you find it odd since he always seems so family-orientated.

"Itadori Sukuna, last time I checked." Shoko informs you, "But if you call him by his last name he'll be a dickhead about it. I think he hates it 'cause that's what connects him to his younger brother or something."

You blink. That somewhat explains a few things, "Damn, you sure know a lot..."

Shoko winks, "Benefits of going to parties to be nosy, you should do it more often."

With a laugh, you nod your head, "Well, thanks for that."

She flashes you one last smile and then raises her hand to wave you bye as you open the door and exit the apartment.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you get downstairs and to Gojo's car and quickly seat yourself in the passenger seat, his eyes are all over your appearance like he's starstruck.

A handsome smile spreads across his face, "You're absolutely breathtaking, y'know that?" Gojo complements.

You roll your eyes and begin putting your seatbelt on, "Seeing as you're able to speak perfectly fine, it doesn't sound like I'm all that breath-taking." You fire in response.

He chuckles and his bright blue eyes slip up and down your body, "You didn't hear the way I choked when I saw you walking toward the car."

"Aw, did you?" You respond mockingly.

"Mhm..." He hums lowly, suddenly focusing more on your face. His head is resting on the palm of his hand as he leans against the console in between the two of you.

You swallow and then just barely turn your face to him, "Plan on staring at me all night?"

"If I had the option to, I definitely would," Gojo says honestly.

You roll your eyes at him again and scoff.

"I'm serious." He utters, "If I got a dollar for every time your face has made my brain turn to mush, I'd be a fuckin' trillionaire."

With a sigh, you nod your chin toward the steering wheel in front of him, "Drive your car, Satoru. We don't have all night."

Gojo's eyes soften for a second as he actually loses himself in staring at you, "...You heal me," He suddenly says.

"What?" Your brows furrow and your face twists up while you meet his gaze.

He looks into your eyes for a second longer before turning his head to face forward, "I'm a broken man, sweetheart." Gojo explains as he moves his large veiny hands to the wheel in front of him, "And you... you heal me little by little every day."

You're unsure what to make of his poetic claims. Is this another type of confession? What does he mean he's broken? How do you heal him? What the hell is going on inside that brain of his??

Gojo glances over at you one more time, moving his hand to poke the center of your forehead, "Don't think on it too much, you'll get a headache trying to decipher my nonsense, sweets." He says in a soft tone.

You find it weird he even refers to his own claims as nonsense when it's far from such a thing. The things he starting to say to you are becoming more and more complex, hidden meaning behind his words and secret bittersweet implications slipped in between his claims.

You gently move his finger away from your head and nod, "Whatever... just drive already."

Gojo smiles, "Yes ma'am."

With that, he returns his hand to the wheel and does exactly as you've told him to, quickly driving to the destination of the party.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There, you could hear lively music blaring from outside this large mansion. The place wasn't too far from where your campus is and you wondered how you went so long without ever being aware of its existence.

As stated before, you used to be quite the partier and most venues have been blessed with your presence. Yet, there you were, getting out of the car with Gojo and heading inside a house you'd surprisingly never been inside before.

Outside of the large estate, you spotted all kinds of people doing all kinds of things. It was expected and all but it had been such a long time since you've seen people having this much fun.

For starters, Choso isn't a partier. Why do you think about that now? Well, you asked him about it but he told you the chances of anyone catching him at a party are zero to none. He much rather be at home engrossed in his artwork.

There's another instance where you're wondering how different of a person Sukuna is in comparison to Choso. Especially when this big ass party is being hosted by him.

Gojo suddenly swings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him while the two of you walk down the main path toward the entrance. The big double doors to the house are wide open, partygoers are scattered absolutely everywhere, and a large chunk of people are spotted inside.

Your gaze shoots over to the man all too close to you, "Satoru..."

"Sweetheart..." He replies.

"Why is your arm around me?" You question flatly.

He chuckles, a big smile painted across his overly handsome face, "I don't want you to get lost."

You blink, glancing away from Gojo and spotting people dancing, laughing, drinking, and even fucking in some places. Scrunching your face up at that last thing you spot, you continue to question Gojo, "What if Sukuna sees us like this?"

"He won't." He hums in response.

"How do you know?"

"Well... around a time like now, that asshole is probably somewhere in the middle of the party," Gojo explains.

The way he refers to Sukuna as an asshole has you worried. Are you going to have to deal with another Naoya?

Swallowing down a large gulp of nerves, you bat your eyelashes at Gojo, "Asshole...?"

He tenses up beside you for some unknown reason, "Uh... I mean, yeah." He shrugs, "Sukuna isn't the nicest guy in the world, everyone knows that."

"I didn't." You respond dryly, then you raise a brow in question, "He's not gonna be like Naoya though... right?"

Gojo looks down at you, finding your worried pout cute, and flashing a comforting smile at you, "No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

The two of you finally enter the house and Gojo looks around, greeting some people he knows with a nod of his head while the two of you conversate.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

Music is heard blaring further on in the party but you two haven't gone deep enough inside to not be able to hear each other yet.

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth. You're confused about what pissed him off so suddenly, "What's wrong?"

He avoids looking at you, "Nothing sweets, just know he'll take greeeat care of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You murmur. The softness of your voice alone helps Gojo to somewhat come back to his senses.

"Sukuna..." Gojo pauses, thinking hard about something before shaking the thought away, "He uh... How do I say this... He'll," The man looks down at you again, "He'll be nice to you."

"...Will he?"

"Yeah, you're cute." Gojo compliments, shrugging all his thoughts off, "He likes cute girls."

"There's plenty of cute girls at this party," You point out, "What makes me so special?"

"Everything."

You scoff, "What-"

"This is about to be your eleventh question since we've been here." Gojo cuts off before giving you a comforting little smile, "Relax, everything will be fine, okay? Trust me."

Your lips purse together as you decide to drop all your questions for now.

Both of you continue walking deeper and deeper into the party, the volume of the music soon engulfing almost all of your senses. People were dancing all over the place, you saw a few drinking games taking place, some people were gathered together smoking, and it was all so lively.

While you walked with Gojo, you couldn't help but notice the way girls gawked at the man beside you, their eyes all over his face, and jealousy noticed in their expressions after they spotted you beside him. What made the whole thing better was the fact that Gojo didn't even glance at them.

The only woman whose eyes he ever looks into is yours. The only person's body he's drooling over is yours. Hell, the only person at this party Gojo even cared about was you.

At some point, he stopped to talk to some people he knew and you just stood quietly by his side. Gojo would give the people he spoke to this murderous glare if they even so much as peeked at you.

You wondered if you imagined the looks he gave some guys up until one was caught staring at your cleavage by Gojo. The man beside you tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "Fuck are you starin' at?" He spat out.

You were oblivious to what was going on at first until you saw who he was talking to; some weirdo leaning against a wall gawking at woman after woman. When he noticed Gojo was talking to him you watched how he immediately teared his eyes off you.

Gojo then dragged you along, making his way toward a dance floor. You looked up at him, "You look like you're gonna stab someone...." You said playfully, mocking him for the wicked look in his eyes.

He smiles and that look completely disappears, almost as if it were never there, to begin with. Meeting your gaze, Gojo pouts, "Who, me?"

"Yes you, don't try to act all innocent."

He snickers, "Stabing isn't the way I'd go about hurting someone but, alright."

"People stare at me all the time, y'know... You can't keep glaring like that." You say, looking away from him, "Especially when I'm not even your girlfriend or anything."

"So?" Gojo scoffs, "I don't like seeing people look at you like that and I couldn't care less if you aren't my girlfriend," He suddenly leans down to you and his eyes go dark again, "You're by my side, in my arms..." He explains lowly, "And even if it's not reciprocated, you're my love."

You stare, seeing the same look he had in his eyes that day he caught you, the same look he gave you when he said he wanted you. Gulping, you try to respond, "Satoru-,"

"I'm serious. They can look at any other chick in this party, just not you. Especially not when you're with me." Gojo claims.

"That's a bit possessive don't you think?" You point out, halfway joking.

"Oh, trust me," He smiles as if it's no big deal, "I'm aware."

You open your mouth to say something but he suddenly leans up and takes his arm off you, "Anyways, I'm pretty sure you'll find Sukuna somewhere in all that," He instructs, nodding toward the group of people dancing and shouting on the main floor. He starts backing away from you, "Text me if you don't though."

"You're leaving me?" You say dumbfoundedly.

"Well, Sukuna can't spot us together..."

"Right." Your lips purse together and you nod, the two of you finally splitting for the first time that night.

The music is so loud that you can feel the vibrations from the base of your toes as you walk into the crowd. You steadily begin to dance by yourself for a moment and at one point you get a drink to help you loosen up.

You didn't plan to overdo it or anything because the last thing you wanted was to be horny and drunk all over again but, you did get enough to give you a little buzz. The smell of weed was strong throughout the dancefloor and you would've partaken in that too but you definitely don't trust drugs from just anyone.

As your body sways with the music, you end up dancing back into some guy on accident but when you try to move, hands go to your waist and your hips, immediately making you uncomfortable. You tried not to make a scene about this random man touching you, casually trying to dance away from him.

Your body language made it so painfully obvious that you didn't want this guy touching on you and you eventually turned your head back to him, noticing that it was the same person Gojo snapped at earlier.

That realization caused goosebumps to form all over your skin and you tried telling the man to back off you. He definitely heard you but clearly ignored you, going as far as groping your ass and creepily smiling at you.

You grit your teeth and elbow the weirdo back away from you, creating only a bit of distance between you and him since there are so many people around. The creep still misses the hint and tries to come close to you again.

In the blink of your eye, one second he was trying to come to touch you again and the next you saw a fist make contact with his jaw, a crack heard even through the music as his body stumbled to the side and then made contact with the floor.

Your eyes went wide at the sight and some people around you cheered. Was getting punched in the jaw like this some kind of regular occurrence? Why were people cheering and laughing so suddenly?

The guy was out cold on the floor, people dancing around his still body as you stood in shock.

The person who punched the fuck out of him was standing where he once was and you turned around to face the guy.

Your heart probably skipped fourteen beats at the sight in front of you. Towering over your smaller frame, smiling maliciously at the motionless body on the ground, with dark yet attractive tattoos decorating his handsome face, bright pink hair, and harsh maroon eyes, Sukuna stood proudly before you.

You batted your eyes at the man, in complete awe of everything about him. The shirt he wore was sleeveless, revealing even more tattoos that went along his large shoulder, his bicep, and his wrist.

With a snarky laugh, you watch as he then disrespectfully spits on the knocked-out man's body, "Disgusting." Sukuna hummed.

Those sharp and surprisingly scary eyes of his snap over to you, the only person shocked by what just happened. The smile that was once spread across his face drops completely when he looks at you. You can feel every hair on your head stand up as you meet his gaze, your spine goes rigid and you think you start sweating.

Sukuna turns to face you and takes a simple step toward your nervous body, tipping his torso down and toward you so that he can be at eye level with you. You think you stop breathing entirely.

Why the fuck is he so intimidating? Why did he stop smiling? Why does he look like he's about to punch you next? Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you don't think any man has ever made you this utterly nervous from just a glance before.

His rose-tinted lips part and his voice is so low and deep you could feel your body getting tense, "This is the part where you say thank you."

You blink, "Th-Thanks." You hated yourself for stuttering.

He tutts, "Nono, not 'thanks', thank you, brat." Sukuna corrects.

"Thank you," You say, your voice small.

He smiles at you, the sight making your heart race. A sexy and slightly raspy chuckle leaves the male, "Thaaat's more like it, good girl."

A strong throb of arousal thrums in your core at the sound of his words. It's embarrassing how such a simple phrase has you turned on already.

It was at that very moment you realized that this man was going to be different than the rest. Not Choso level different and not in any romantic sense but, the small conversation and his aura made one thing very clear.

Sukuna was in a league of his own. This man was a damn beast and you were both scared and excited to explore that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

499 notes · View notes

punkshort · 6 months

Text

All Yours

Summary: Tommy and Maria want to meet a group from another community to establish a trading relationship. One man comes onto you a little too strong, sparking a reaction from Joel.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader, established relationship, set in the TWWW universe but can be read stand alone, no use of Y/N.

Warnings: jealousy/possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected sex, fingering, language, mild violence/blood, vague allusions to SA (nothing graphic)

Word count: 6.8K

March 2006

"So, what exactly do we need to bring with us?" Carrie asked, leaning over your shoulder as you spread out your notes in front of you on the desk.

"Maria said she wanted to have an idea of our production numbers for each season, so we know what we can spare for trades."

A couple months ago on patrol, Tommy and Joel came across a smaller community deep in the mountains. After watching them carefully for a few weeks, and a very lively discussion during a town hall meeting, it was agreed that they would approach the community in an attempt to strike up a trading relationship.

Satisfied that you had all the documentation you needed, you stuffed the notebooks into your pack, along with a few samples of medicinal herbs as a good faith gift.

You both slid on your coats, hats, and gloves as you made your way to the stables, the early spring morning still very brisk. The sun was just beginning to peek over the trees as you approached the small group waiting outside the barn. You scanned the group of five quickly before your eyes settled on Joel, who had been talking to Eugene about something that made him appear tense until he saw you approach, and his face relaxed.

"All set?" Joel asked you, taking your rolled up sleeping bag and attaching it to the back of the saddle, next to his own.

"I think so," you replied while giving Eugene a smile and wave in greeting.

"Shouldn't be too long of a trip, dear. We'll be back tomorrow, late afternoon," Eugene told you as he mounted his horse.

Tommy had chosen a neutral place in between both settlements to discuss trades: an abandoned ski lodge. When you heard of the location, you were grateful you wouldn't have to sleep on the muddy forest floor.

Joel hopped up on the back of the horse and reached his arm down to help you climb up behind him. You wrapped your arms around his stomach and gave him a small squeeze with your arms.

"You didn't have to come, you know," Joel murmured over his shoulder as he followed behind Jake and Carrie's horse, exiting through the gate.

"Yeah, but what would I do while you were gone? Probably just waste away," you joked, making yourself chuckle.

"I'm serious," he said. "Could be dangerous. We don't know these people yet."

"It'll be fine, Joel," you tried to assure him. "I'll just explain my production numbers, Carrie will discuss the medicinal stuff, and we will just hang back while you guys figure out the rest."

Joel huffed and rolled his shoulders.

"Just don't like you outside Jackson too much. Like knowin' that you're safe," he said, directing your horse around a fallen tree.

"I know. But I want to help. Maria is excited. She said this could be really good for the town, and I want to do my part."

He grunted, effectively ending the conversation.

Joel had always felt this intense need to protect you. Since outbreak day, his one and only goal was to keep you safe. There had been a few close calls in your journey before Jackson, ones that affected him deeply and stirred up frequent panic attacks from shouldering the guilt and blame. When you found Jackson, he was finally able to relax, seeing you safe and happy. He still struggled with his own trauma from past events, some days worse than others. And taking you outside the walls of Jackson was steadily careening him towards having one of those bad days.

You reached the ski lodge before the other group, much to Joel's relief. It was the first time you've seen him look pleased all day. The place was enormous. You noticed it appeared to be able to host weddings or conferences in the off-season as you walked by three huge ballrooms and a kitchen before you finally reached the main lounge. Couches, sofa chairs, and tables with chairs were scattered around the two-story room. The walls were mostly windows, allowing visitors to admire the beautiful mountains surrounding the building.

The room was built around a big fireplace in the center, which Tommy and Jake immediately began to inspect.

"Maybe we should get some wood. We're early, we got time to kill," Tommy mused aloud. Joel's head swiveled around the two-story lounge while he gripped his rifle, looking up at the balconies above to make sure you were truly alone.

Tommy slid his backpack off and rummaged around until he found a hatchet in its leather carrying case.

"C'mon, Joel. Before we lose daylight," Tommy said, giving Joel pause. His eyes flicked over to you sitting at a table talking to Carrie while you unloaded the food, no doubt planning what to make for the group for dinner.

"Can you take Eugene?" Joel asked him quietly, so the rest of the group wouldn't overhear. Tommy raised an eyebrow at his brother before answering.

"Joel. I'm not gonna ask an old man to trek into the forest and help me haul wood up all those steps."

"Jake, then," Joel tried, his eyes traveling back to you. Tommy sighed and put a hand on Joel's shoulder.

"It'll be 30 minutes, at most," Tommy assured him. "She's a big girl, she'll be alright. Y'know she can defend herself, probably better than most."

"Yeah, but what if the other group comes when we're gone?" Joel asked, furrowing his brow and shifting his weight.

"We've met them before, Joel. You've met them before. What's the problem?" Tommy asked, growing impatient. Joel sighed and reluctantly slung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Alright, let's be quick," Joel huffed.

Joel made his way over to you as Tommy let the group know his plan to collect some firewood. Joel gave you a quick kiss and squeezed your bicep gently.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart," he murmured.

"Be careful," you told him with a small smile. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing anxiously, unsure how to vocalize his concerns.

"Joel! Let's get a move on," Tommy called out as he made his way back down the hallway that led to the entrance.

"Sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back," you told him, giving his chest a small shove. He nodded and turned on his heel to follow Tommy down the hall.

You and Carrie were opening some canned goods and rifling through the kitchen when you heard the front doors of the lodge swing open. At first, you thought Joel and Tommy had managed to cut up firewood in less than fifteen minutes, but then you heard strange voices, and you knew it must have been the new community arriving. You dusted your palms on the sides of your jeans and glanced at Carrie.

"Guess we should join the others," you told her, trying to keep your voice steady. You didn't want to worry Joel, but the prospect of meeting new people in a strange place did make you a little nervous. You didn't have the best track record with people since the outbreak.

As the two of you made your way back into the lounge, you subconsciously rested your hand on the butt of your handgun. You entered the room just as the group was entering from the other end. You examined them carefully as you made your way over to Maria. They had brought five men with them. Two of which were older and had grey beards, one was bald while the other had messy curls. The other three were younger. One seemed particularly young, younger than you. He was skinny and his eyes darted around nervously. You got the impression he was asked to join as an extra body and a last resort.

The last two men were likely in their thirties and seemed to be the muscle of the group. One of the men had darker hair that was shaved close to his head and a rigid jaw. You vaguely wondered if he had past military or police training.

Your eyes finally landed on the last man, only to discover he had already clocked you from across the room. He had dirty blonde, slicked back hair with piercing blue eyes and was surprisingly clean shaven. You noticed most of the men in Jackson didn't bother to shave their beards unless it was particularly hot out, so it struck you as strange. Maybe you had been staring because when you met in the middle of the room, the blonde man's eyes never left your face.

"Neil, Dean, great to see you again," Maria greeted the two older men with a handshake. You could tell immediately they were kind by the way they smiled and spoke, which helped ease your nerves a bit. However, the blonde man had yet to stop staring at you, and it was becoming unnerving. You felt Carrie shift next to you and you wondered if she noticed it, too.

Maria introduced you and Carrie to Neil and Dean, since Jake and Eugene were already acquainted with them. When you shook their hands and looked into their eyes, your nerves settled a little more.

"And I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met," Maria said to the other three with a smile.

"Oh, where are my manners," Neil, the balding one, said. "This is Lucas, Sam, and Carter." Neil pointed to each of them respectively. Sam was the young, skinny boy, Lucas was the military type, and Carter the blonde.

You looked each of them in the eye and gave them a tight smile. Carter gave you a sly smirk and you instantly looked away, focusing your attention on Maria. She invited the group to sit at a larger table in the lounge, and you all traipsed over to find a seat. You didn't think it was a coincidence that Carter sat directly across from you, and when you exchanged quick looks with Carrie, you could tell she noticed, too.

"So," Maria said, folding her hands on top of the table. "Tommy and Joel are just out getting firewood, but they should be back soon. We can get started, I don't want to keep you unnecessarily."

"Sure thing," Dean said, reaching into his bag to pull out some notebooks.

"Why don't we start with the girls? They can go over our medicine and vegetable harvest numbers, and then Eugene can discuss livestock," Maria said, looking at you expectantly. You took a breath and reached across the table to grab your worn notebook.

You began by showing the men your production numbers from the past year for vegetables, all of them nodding along and taking notes except for Carter, who was blatantly trying to get a look down your shirt when you leaned over. You had enough and shot him a frown in the hopes of embarrassing him, but a wide grin just spread across this face instead.

You were wrapping up and about to pass your notebook along to Carrie to review the medicinal herbs when Carter finally spoke for the first time.

"That's all?" he said, the deepness of his voice surprising you. You looked at him and blinked.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your fingers still pressed onto the open pages of your notebook.

"Vegetables and fruit? I'm sure you got something else you can trade, sugar," he said, his eyes quickly scanning your body up and down.

You paused for a moment, wondering if you were just paranoid or if he was really suggesting what you thought he was suggesting. Your gaze flicked back to Maria, who seemed to pick up on the same thought you had, and she stiffened in her chair.

"Carter," Neil said lowly, his tone a warning. Your left hand remained on the notebook, but your right hand fell to your side, fingers tapping the butt of your gun.

After a heavy silence that seemed to last an eternity, Carter's face split into a toothy smile as he laughed heartily.

"Come on now, I'm just kidding. Relax, girly," he said to you, but you did anything but relax. In an attempt to not ruin the potential trading relationship with this community, you pushed the notebook to Carrie and leaned back in your chair, choosing to let his comments go.

Carrie nervously and quickly went through the numbers on the herbs while you kept your eyes trained on her, ignoring the heat of Carter's gaze.

Carrie was just finishing up when you heard the front doors swing open once again, and relief flooded through you when you heard Tommy and Joel walking up the hallway.

They entered the room with armfuls of wood, which they deposited next to the fireplace in order to shake hands with Dean and Neil. They were then introduced to the rest of the group with firm nods of their heads before pulling up chairs of their own. Maria was catching Tommy up on what he missed when Joel sat down next to you. You turned in your chair and put your hand on top of his with a squeeze. He gave you a quick smile and leaned forward to listen to Maria, oblivious to the way Carter was studying you two. Carrie met your gaze, and her eyes widened a fraction, trying to silently convey the thought you were also having: what the fuck?

Before Eugene could begin talking about the livestock numbers, you stood up and tugged on Carrie's arm in the process, also making her stand.

"We're gonna go back to the kitchen, get some food ready," you announced, and Maria nodded, her eyes briefly looking at Joel before falling back on you. Joel was looking up and watching you curiously. You gave him a tight smile before hurrying back to the kitchen with Carrie. It was then that he finally noticed Carter's gaze, which was firmly fixed on your retreating form, not even trying to hide the way he stared at your ass as you left the room. Joel cleared his throat roughly, drawing Carter's attention off you and onto him. He gave Joel a light huff and turned his attention back to Maria.

"That was fucking awkward," Carrie said with a disbelieving laugh once you were safe inside the kitchen.

"Okay, so it wasn't just me?" you asked, your hands on your hips. She shook her head.

"Oh, hell no. Even Jake noticed it. Joel's gonna fucking kill him if he pulls that shit again," Carrie said, and you groaned, getting back to prepping various dishes for dinner.

Dinner went smoother. Carter mostly kept his eyes to himself, the tension from the room had dissipated, and the group had begun laughing and trading stories. It appeared while you and Carrie were making dinner that a trading agreement had taken place. Tommy had brought a bottle of whiskey along and was passing it around to celebrate while you and Carrie helped clean up. You were picking up a stack of plates at the end of the table when you heard a voice behind you.

"How 'bout dessert, sugar?" Carter whispered in your ear, making you nearly drop the stack of plates in your hands. You whipped around but he had already taken a few quick steps back, creating a healthy distance from you so as not to draw the attention of others.

"Excuse me?" you said, your heart hammering in your chest. He held up his hands in mock surrender with a smirk.

You so badly wanted to tell him off, stand your ground and make it known you weren't just brought along to feed people and clean up after them, that you were doing it to help your friends, your community. But you recalled how excited Maria was about this relationship, and looking at her now, you could see she was relieved that she could provide more goods to the town with this new prospect. So, you gave Carter the benefit of the doubt.

"There might be canned fruit or something," you muttered, trying to find Carrie so you could walk back to the kitchen together, but Carter reached out and snatched your elbow, this time drawing a scowl to your face.

"I was thinkin' 'bout somethin' else," he said, and you could now tell he had been drinking by the slur in his words and the heaviness in his eyes. You swallowed roughly and glanced around the room, scanning for Joel. He was talking with Dean and Tommy near the fire, his back to you.

"Don't gotta be nervous. It's a compliment," Carter told you, picking up on your anxious body language.

"I'm with him," you said curtly, nodding your chin in Joel's direction. "Even if I wasn't, I'm not interested."

His eyes slowly dragged across the room and landed on Joel before swinging his head back to you, giving you a shrug.

"Huh," was all he said in response, still looking at you hungrily. Over Carter's shoulder, you saw Joel shift, his eyes instantly landing on you. In your periphery, you saw his body tense and he began to make his way across the room. Your eyes flicked to his and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to direct him. You gave him a subtle but firm shake of your head. His jaw clenched but he stayed where he was, his eyes jumping from you to Carter.

You turned and marched towards the kitchen, your pulse racing so fast you felt lightheaded.

You all settled in for the night, rolling out sleeping bags and claiming couches. The new group ended up having too much to drink and decided to leave in the morning. You were fixing up your sleeping bag next to Joel's while he stared at Carter flopping down on a couch from across the vast room. You weren't thrilled with the idea of having to stay the night in the same place, but you were comforted by the fact that you were next to Joel and your friends.

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Joel said bluntly as you unzipped your sleeping bag.

"I don't either," you told him, and his eyes finally dragged from Carter to look at you, the surprise evident on his face. He had fully expected you to insist he was overreacting, but the fact you agreed with him put him on edge even more.

"Let's just get through the night and get back home," you said, tucking yourself into your sleeping bag.

"You ain't leavin' my sight til then," he said gruffly, then followed your lead, zipping his bag up partially so he could still press his upper body against yours while you slept.

And although you agreed, not wanting to leave his sight, you found your bladder was too full shortly after everyone had fallen asleep. You looked over your shoulder at Joel. He was sound asleep and snoring softly against the back of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist loosely. You thought about waking him up but decided against it. He looked so peaceful, and you knew you would be quick.

Before standing up, you glanced around the room. The rest of the group seemed fast asleep, and the bathrooms were only a few feet away from where you slept. You sighed and slowly unraveled yourself from Joel's grasp. He grunted and readjusted, moving to sleep on his back, but remained out cold.

The ladies restroom had three stalls and two sinks. You went as fast as you could, eager to get back to the warmth of the lounge and Joel's embrace. It was dark, but it was a full moon, so you didn't bother to bring a flashlight with you.

You swung the bathroom door open to exit into the short hallway when you smacked into a wall of muscle, causing you to stumble backwards in alarm.

"Wha-" you began to say, but a strong hand clamped over your mouth, stifling your words and pushing you backwards into the room, your back slamming hard against the wall.

You couldn't see who it was, but you knew it wasn't Joel based on touch and scent alone. And when you heard his voice, it just confirmed your suspicions.

"Finally gotcha alone, sweetness," Carter muttered into your ear, pinning you against the wall. You struggled against him, but he was too strong, and you were having a hard time seeing in the dark. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as the panic set in. Not again, please, not again.

He brought his face in front of yours and you could smell his sour breath, stale whiskey invading your nostrils as you mumbled against his palm.

"Really happy we met today," he said quietly. "Your town's got some real pretty women. Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. I can get you things, for a price..." he trailed off as his other hand skirted down your side. You squeezed your eyes shut and brought your knee up as hard as you could, praying in the dark that you could hit your target. A loud groan that bubbled up from his throat let you know you were successful. His hand slipped from your mouth slightly as he doubled over, clutching his crotch with the hand that was just on your body moments ago.

"Joel-!" you began to shout, but his hand quickly covered your mouth again, this time with more pressure, bringing tears to your eyes.

"Shut the fuck up," he muttered angrily, bringing his other hand up to your neck. "Quit bein' such a tease, you been starin' at me all night."

You shook your head as much as you could with your mouth still held prisoner by his palm. You brought your hands up to claw at his hand pressing on your throat, your vision going spotty.

Suddenly, the pressure was gone, allowing air to flow freely again. You gasped and coughed, leaning forward as your fingers gently touched the sore skin on your neck. You quickly stood back up, swinging your head around in the darkness, trying to see where he went.

"Get your fuckin' hands off her," you heard Joel growl, along with the unmistakable sound of knuckles thudding wetly against soft, damaged flesh. You could hear their boots squeaking on the tile as the scuffle continued and you blinked rapidly, trying to make your eyes adjust so you could reach the door and go get help.

The fight must have been louder than you realized because the bathroom door swung open, flooding the room in light from Maria's lantern, with Neil, Dean and Tommy right behind her. You pressed yourself flat against the wall as you tried to not get caught in the fight between the two men, who you could now see were swinging on each other wildly, spinning around the small room, slamming each other into the stalls, and grabbing at each other's shirts, trying to get the upper hand and pull the other down. Joel's fist came in contact with Carter's nose so loudly, you heard the crack of bone and winced. Carter stumbled backwards with a pained cry, crashing into you and causing you to fall to the floor.

You felt a burning in your wrist when you landed as you frantically scrambled between him and the floor, desperately trying to get out of the way. Joel saw his opportunity when Carter fell, clutching his nose. He snatched him up and off you by his collar and hauled him across the room with a grunt. Joel grabbed Carter by the hair and yanked him back, so his face was angled up to the ceiling. Carter looked at Joel manically, desperately squirming on his knees and clawing at Joel's wrists to try to loosen his grip when he realized Joel was about to slam his face into the porcelain sink.

Tommy pushed his way into the room and broke up the two men before Joel had a chance to crush his skull. Carter sat crumpled on the floor, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. He attempted to stand but slipped on his own blood, making him fall back to the floor.

"Alright, Joel, enough," Tommy muttered, his hands pressed firmly on Joel's shoulders, pushing him back against the wall. Joel panted for breath through clenched teeth, his eyes wild as his gaze jumped from Carter to Tommy. As if he suddenly came to his senses and remembered you were still in the room, he pushed Tommy off him and made a beeline towards you, hunched over in the corner of the room.

"You alright, sweetheart? Lemme look at you, c'mon," he said gently as he crouched down, hooking a finger under your chin and pulling it up. You let out a shaky breath as your eyes roamed his face. He had a few cuts under his eye and a bruise forming on his jaw, but apart from his knuckles, he appeared unscathed. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the fear in your eyes, then his gaze dropped to your throat where dark, circular bruises were forming from where Carter pressed his fingertips into your delicate skin. You could see the shift behind his eyes turn from concern to rage, and you reached out to grip his arm tightly before he could start another fight.

"Stay," you whispered, your lip trembling. He sighed and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. You inhaled his scent, a mix of sweat, blood and tree sap, and you felt your pulse slow down a fraction.

"Get him the fuck outta here," Joel growled over his shoulder. At some point, Lucas must have joined the crowd because he entered the room to help Carter up from the floor, allowing him to lean on his shoulder as he ushered him out of the room and down the hall.

"I'll go get Carrie, she can look you both over, patch you up," Maria said, but you stopped her.

"Can I just have a minute?" you whimpered softly, your voice not quite right. Maria nodded and waved Tommy out of the room, closing the door behind them, leaving you and Joel in the quiet, moonlit bathroom.

He leaned back to look at you again, his thumb tracing gently over your cheek. You didn't realize you were crying silent tears until he leaned forward to kiss them away, then let his forehead rest against your own.

"What happened?" he finally asked, his eyes closed with his forehead still pressed against you.

"I had to pee, he cornered me in here, it was dark," you squeaked out. Your head was pounding, and you felt exhausted but there was no way you would be able to fall asleep now.

"Did he touch you?" Joel asked nervously, afraid of the answer. You shook your head quickly, and a sigh of relief slipped past his lips.

"Not like that. Just my throat and he covered my mouth," you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to get closer. He leaned back against the tile wall and pulled you onto his lap, your face pressed against the side of his neck.

"Shoulda woke me up," he murmured into your hair.

"I know, I'm sorry," you whispered, letting your hands fall from behind his neck to rest gently on his chest.

"Don't be sorry," he replied, his body tense. "Shouldn't have to be this way in the first place."

You pulled your head back and cupped his cheek with your good hand, gently stroking the bruise forming on his jaw. Overcome with a swell of affection, you leaned in and pressed your mouth against his, tugging his lower lip between yours. He moaned softly and opened his mouth, his tongue dipping past your lips until it found its mate, licking into your mouth until he pulled a small whine from your throat.

He broke the kiss and leaned his head back against the wall, his fingers carefully wiping away the last of your tears.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he shook his head.

"Don't gotta thank me," he replied, then sighed as he pushed himself into a standing position. He reached an arm down to help you up off the floor, and that's when you remembered your wrist. You whimpered and yanked it out of his grasp, standing up on your own and rolling your wrist around to test it for damage.

Joel tenderly took your hand in his and turned it around, inspecting it for swelling.

"It's too dark in here, let's go find Carrie, she can take a look at it," he told you, leading you out of the bathroom and back into the lounge.

Carrie sat you both down on a loveseat with her med kit. She tested your wrist and determined it was just a sprain, so she wrapped it up tightly for you before moving to Joel. She was sanitizing the cuts on his knuckles as you both watched Tommy and Maria having a quiet conversation with Dean and Neil across the room. You were trying to tell by their body language what was being said, but it was impossible. Finally, the group broke up and headed back to their respective people.

Joel stood up defensively when Tommy and Maria approached, giving Carrie a quick 'thanks' under his breath. She sat down next to you, eyes wide as she rubbed your back, asking gently if you were okay and if you needed anything. You shook your head and gave her a small smile, then turned so you could listen to what Maria had to say.

"Relax, Joel, it's alright," Maria said, putting a hand out to him. "You don't need to explain. Dean said there's been an incident or two like this back in their town. It was all 'he said, she said', so they couldn't do anything about it."

"So they brought that fucker here?" Joel seethed, clenching his fist.

"They're gonna take care of it when they get back," Tommy assured him. "Won't be a problem in the future. Trades are still on. Kept him around 'cause he's a good shot."

"Christ," Joel mumbled, rubbing his hand over his beard and turning away. Maria kneeled down in front of you and took your hand in hers.

"You okay?" she asked softly, and you nodded. She examined your face closely until she was satisfied that you were being honest, and stood back up.

"They're leaving, obviously," Maria said, gesturing behind her to the group packing up. Carter laid on a couch with his arm draped over his face, clearly in pain.

"Why don't we try to get some sleep so we can get the hell outta here early?" Eugene said from a sofa chair next to you. You all mumbled in agreement, but waited until the other group left, Neil and Dean giving Tommy and Maria a quick handshake before venturing out into the darkness.

Tommy threw a couple more logs on the fire before he settled back into his sleeping bag next to Maria. Silence descended upon the room, but you still struggled to fall back asleep. Adrenaline was still coursing through your veins from the encounter as you tossed and turned in your sleeping bag.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" Joel murmured next to you, clearly on the verge of sleep. You sighed and shook your head, even though his eyes were closed.

"No," you whispered, letting out a quiet groan as you repositioned yourself yet again. Joel's eyes popped open at the sound and turned his head to look at you curiously.

"Can't sleep, too wound up," you whispered again. Joel chuckled and you scowled at him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothin', just thought of somethin', made me laugh," he said, his eyes sliding back closed but the smile still on his face. You poked him in the ribs, and he jumped, eyes snapping back open.

"Tell me," you said, and he sighed.

"I was gonna make a joke, tell you 'I know what'll tire you out', but it seemed like the wrong time," he explained, closing his eyes once again and turning his head back.

You considered it for a moment before responding.

"Okay."

His breathing stopped and his eyes snapped open. He turned his face to the side again, raising his eyebrows at you.

"What?" he asked quietly. You shrugged and smirked.

"I said, 'okay'," you replied just as quietly. His eyes darkened as they flicked down to your lips, then back up again.

"Kitchen," was all he said, his tone deep and voice strained. You slithered out of your sleeping bag and jumped to your feet, trying your best to be quiet and not sprint into the kitchen. You pushed the door open and entered the nearly pitch-black room, noting the only window was a small circle at the top of the door, allowing an orange light from the fire to be the only light in the room. You chewed your nail nervously as you waited for him to join you, pacing around in a small circle, trying to relieve the ache that was growing between your legs.

The door swung open, and you whipped around right as Joel wrapped his arms around you, his mouth latching onto your neck. His beard tickled your skin as he made a trail of kisses all across your throat. It wasn't until he made it to the other side that you realized he had been kissing the bruises left there. You let out a soft moan and tipped your head back, your fingers digging into his arms.

"If we do this, gotta be fast and quiet," he whispered against your mouth before his tongue dove past your lips to tangle with your own.

"Mhmm," you hummed as you reached down to unbutton your jeans. He walked you backwards until you felt the cold stainless steel of the counter behind you. You hopped up to sit on top and bent your head so you could suck on his Adam's apple before you made your way down to his collarbone, which was just peeking out from the top of his shirt.

Joel pulled your jeans the rest of the way off and slid his hands up both your legs before stopping on your hips, squeezing before giving them a quick tug forward. You almost yelped but you covered your mouth at the last minute. Joel gave you a look of warning before he lined you up with the edge of the counter, his fingers sliding underneath the edge of your panties and yanking them off.

He ran his knuckle up and down your slit before his eyes shot up to lock on yours.

"Shit," he whispered, leaning forward to whisper filth into your ear while he inserted a thick finger inside you, followed closely by a second.

"What a good girl, all ready for me," he told you quietly. "How long you been like this, hm?"

"Since you broke his nose," you whispered heavily, spreading your legs wider for him. He paused a moment, clearly not expecting that answer. You squirmed a bit when his fingers stayed still for too long, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah? That turn you on?" he asked you, and you felt his breath quicken against your neck.

"Yeah," you said quietly, sighing when his fingers expertly found that spot inside you.

"Fuck. Dirty girl," he muttered, earning a gasp from you when he quickly removed his fingers in favor of undoing his belt and shoving his jeans down his thighs. "You liked when I beat that fucker for putting his hands on what's mine?"

You didn't have a chance to answer him because he quickly slid his cock inside you, making you gasp again and slap a hand over your mouth, but you nodded enthusiastically, squeezing your eyes shut.

"So warm," Joel muttered to himself, tipping his head back as he rolled his hips into you slowly, your legs squeezing around his waist. His hands hooked under your knees at his side, his head rolling forward lazily as he watched his cock disappearing inside of you, each time emerging slicker than before.

You began rocking your hips up to meet his in a desperate attempt to increase the pace. He noticed, and given the location and lack of time, chose to give you what you wanted. He snapped his hips harder, grunting quietly each time he bottomed out inside you. You bit down on the fleshy part of your hand, trying to stifle your whines as he pushed you higher and higher towards your orgasm.

He slid his hand from your knee and down your thigh to rest flat on your lower stomach, his thumb brushing against your clit and pulling an audible moan from your mouth. Joel stopped his movements to give you a stern look. He leaned down so his chest was nearly flush with yours, his mouth hovering over your ear.

"Gotta stay quiet, sweetheart. You know I love those sounds but we gotta be careful," he whispered. "Can you do that for me?" You nodded and covered your mouth with your palm again.

He hummed his approval and began rocking his hips into you, his thumb finding your clit and pressing small, firm circles. Your eyes rolled as the pressure built in your lower abdomen. Joel leaned back up so he was standing once again, watching your body jostle up and down underneath him as he fucked into you harder. He felt your walls clench around him and watched as your head tipped back against the stainless steel, your hand still firmly planted over your mouth.

"Tell me you're mine," he said lowly. Your head tilted back down so you could meet his gaze. You removed your hand from your mouth, little gasps escaping from your mouth with each thrust.

"I'm yours, Joel," you said as quietly as you could.

"Again," he said, teeth clenched. Heat creeped up his neck as his orgasm steadily approached, but he held it back until he could hear you respond.

"Y-yours. I'm yours, Joel. Fuck. No one else, only you. Only ever y-you. Shit, I'm close," you whined, clamping your hand over your mouth again to muffle your orgasm.

And then it hit you like a freight train. Your eyes squeezed shut and your body tensed, your cunt fluttered around his cock as the waves washed over you, soft whimpers and moans getting lost in your palm.

"That's my girl," Joel mumbled, pounding into you harder now, desperate to join you. "All mine, huh? This mine?" he asked you, grabbing a handful of your ass and giving it a shake. You nodded and whispered a yes, your hand falling to your side.

"That's right. How 'bout this sweet little pussy? This mine, too?"

"Yes," you whined a little louder than you intended. You opened your eyes and watched him as his gaze traveled up your body, locking eyes with you. You saw a bead of sweat trickle down from his temple as his hips stuttered against you. His hand that was once placed over your stomach slowly traveled up your body, resting over your sternum, right over your pounding heart.

"And this?" he asked, softer now, eyes wide and pleading. You nodded and covered his hand with yours.

"Yes, Joel. All yours." You told him firmly, and with that, he pulled his hips back, groaning quietly as he came all over your stomach, his hot spend dripping down your sides and leaving small, pearly white dots on the countertop.

His eyes lingered on your stomach a moment before he reached down to pull his pants back up. He cleaned you up with a rag he had grabbed before following you into the kitchen, and helped you sit up, being mindful of your sore wrist.

You slid down from the counter and felt around with your foot until you found your discarded clothes. After dressing yourself, you turned around to pull Joel down into a messy, lazy kiss. He leaned back to look at you in the semi-darkness, his hands resting on your waist.

"I'm yours, too, y'know," he said softly. You smiled up at him and ran a finger gently over the bruise blooming on his cheek.

"I know," you whispered, planting a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He pushed the door open a crack to make sure no one was awake before opening it all the way and leading you back to your sleeping bags.

"That did the trick, thank you," you murmured to him, yawning as your eyes closed, burying your face in your sleeping bag. His arms wrapped around you from behind and he kissed the back of your neck.

"Anytime, sweetheart," he said, his voice muffled by your hair as he held you tightly against his chest.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina

603 notes · View notes

10underoot2 · 4 days

Text

Faithful Lovers

This scene has become one of my favourite things to exist.

I love this scene for the rawness and openess of conversation. It's both of them telling each other with so much conviction why they need the other to see their perspective. It's vulnerable, it's beautifully done, it's art.

The pain in the hug is so palpable but so is the comfort. It's so hard to see her trying to add distance between them - before Hyunwoo pulls her into his embrace - cause she can.not.be.swayed.by.him. Does Hyunwoo apologise for putting her in a situation like this? For not realising just how much she has to lose? Or for being selfish begging her to say yes to this surgery?

Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me want to live. I won't be able to recognize you. I'll become a stranger.

First things first, thank you Kim Jiwon for that delivery. It killed me emotionally, made me cry and want to hug you even more. Protect this beautiful smoll bean at all costs.

Notice how one of the major things that keeps breaking her resolve is him. His love. His understanding. His physical being. Yet the only thing stopping her from living is also him . His memories. His love. Him.

When he tries to convince her that she will fall in love with him again her little head shake says 'But it won't be the same.' I love how it isn't written off as Oh I know I'll be able to love you. She has doubts. So many of them. I think just the idea that she could wake up and lose her ability to love him is unbearable to her. What if she can't love with the same intensity? Not feel what she feels right this moment? What if she looks into his eyes after the surgery and feels like she would rather forget him than die? Haein knows how much Hyunwoo's put into ensuring she lives yet she rather experience that love than throw it all away on a chance.

But Hyunwoo is defiant. He's not taking no for an answer. He can't anymore. He hates that she won't listen to him. That she's having doubts. Isn't it common sense? He'll be there. They'll figure it all out. She'll be alive. It's such an interesting and logical perspective to have 'as long as there is life anything can happen.' because once she's dead that's it.. it's the end. But if she's alive, the possibility and capacity of love still exists.

Even if you don't fall for me, ignore me or dislike me I'll still be there for you through it all. Why doesn't this kid understand that's exactly why she can't agree to it. She can't bear the possibility of that happening.

I think Hyunwoo shines when he says 'I made a promise. That I'd be by your side even if there's a debt or something more. So don't worry and just stay here please.'

Notice how this is directly in contrast with what she says right at the beginning 'We make promises in good times thinking they'll never end.' But Hyunwoo remembers and he's willing to be there through it all.

Don't pray about dying. I'm terrified it'll come true.

She's praying to die. Let that sink in. For a man who believes enough to pray for her to be saved, when her death is so imminent - almost a fact, this is indeed terrifying. I feel his fear and pain. Good grief, she's praying to die when there's such a big possibility of exactly that. She accepted her fate and he's willing to fight tooth and nail to change it. It's a tesimtiment to how many times he's spent thinking of a life without her. He's convincing her to rid of their memories. I know he's aware of exactly what it means. The chances they're taking but the idea of not seeing her again is so unbearable for him.

I love Haein's strong mindedness. She didn't budge. Her last look for me read 'I get it. I get it all but just no. I can't lose you. Please don't cry and make this harder. Don't make me want to live.' and with that she hardens her heart as she steps away and takes her hand from him.

While this man, ouff this man. Can we take a moment to appreciate the sheer desperation on his face. After she signals no again he's so helpless. 'Please, please see me and live, if only for me. I cannot fathom this earth without you.' Seriously, we all need to take a minute to appreciate his desperation throughout this scene. The woman that he loves, his ideal women won't agree to stay alive because she loves him too deeply. Just writing this hurts me.

It's interesting this scene works because by now we know where they both stand in this episode. For me, the reason this scene shines is the vulnerability - the two of them having this extremely open and confrontational confession. When scenes like this are executed and written well it creates everlasting frames like this.

Also they both suck at praying. If you're praying just pray to keep her alive and keep her memories intact. Why are they picking and choosing? It's not like God has a limit to what he can do. Truly nonsense prayers from both of them. 🙃

Gif credits: @jcpostsobsessions and @seawherethesunsets

#the hands #ouff the hands!#so much conviction and desperation there #queen of tears #baek hyun woo #hong hae in #kdrama #kim ji won #kim soo hyun #hong haein #such a well done scene #one of my favs #up there with P&P rain scene #can't believe I'm finally done analysing this scene!#two extremely emotionally taxing scenes left to analyse!

76 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 7 months

Text

Daddy Issues (Part Two)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Several days later...

Several days later and Emma had organised dinner at a famous Japanese restaurant with both Jamie and Cillian Murphy attending and you were unsure what to wear as, again, your sense of self-consciousness and lack of self-esteem began gnawing away at you. Should you dress provocatively to catch his eye or opt for something demure to blend in with the crowd? Your indecision mirrored your uncertainty regarding the evening ahead.

Luckily for you, Emma had brought some clothes with her, knowing that you did not own anything other than a few pairs of jeans and shirts.

"How about this one?" she asked, pulling out a velvety red dress that Jamie had bought for her recently.

"It's, uhm, red?" you stammered, your cheeks turning crimson due to the daring choice of attire.

"Okay, let's go with something more boring," Emma teased before pulling out a black skirt and a simple, but pretty, white silk shirt instead. You hesitated briefly, worrying whether your ordinary appearance might be too boring after all for a man who you knew could have every woman he wanted.

"It will look good, but don't wear a bra with it," Emma suggested, smirking playfully. "Jamie loves seeing my nipples through the fabric and no doubt Cillian will feel the same about yours." With resignation, you followed her advice.

"What even makes you think that he would like me? He was married to this actress, Annabelle Wallis, for a few years and before that, he was married to this designer named Grace. They both are stunning and I am merely average," you thought out loud sadly. Surely, he wouldn't want an ordinary girl like me? Your insecurities started eating you alive, causing your palms to sweat profusely underneath your delicate hands.

"You are gorgeous and if you were just slightly gay, then we wouldn't just be friends babe", Emma consoled. "We all face our insecurities differently but trust me, he won't reject you once he sees you". Her voice was soft and tender, kindling your faith in yourself. She guided you through various ways to enhance your body language, facial expressions, vocal inflections. Every piece of advice was designed to bring forth your inner charm. You watched her carefully, taking notes mentally.

When she finished teaching you, she smiled encouragingly and whispered, "Remember, embrace your flaws. Trust me, you'd surprise yourself," adding, "And do try to relax tonight."

You nodded appreciatively, attempting to breathe deeply and calm your racing pulse. Emphasizing her point further, Emma added, "Trust me, once you start getting comfortable, it'll be easier to let loose and unwind."

Your brow furrowed in confusion, wondering how exactly one goes about becoming 'comfortable'. Nonetheless, you took Emma's words to heart, hoping to channel her strength in times of discomfort.

An hour later...

As you entered the luxurious London eatery, filled with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and attentive staff whisking around effortlessly in their pristine uniforms, you couldn't help feeling intimidated by the sophistication surrounding you.

Your best friend Emma was right by your side as you were shown to a well-appointed but secluded table, which is where Jamie and Cillian were already waiting for you.

As soon as you arrived, Jamie whispered something into Cillian's ear causing him to glance into your direction, his piercing blue eyes fixing upon yours briefly before looking away again. It seemed there might be some underlying chemistry here after all - if only momentarily.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, you introduced yourself to Cillian warmly.

"I am Y/N," you started, "it's nice to meet you." Your voice came out more breathless than usual due to nerves, though it didn't seem to affect your confidence too drastically.

In response, Cillian offered a broad smile. "Likewise, Y/N", he said softly. His Irish accent added an extra layer of charm that made him even more appealing, albeit slightly disconcerting.

"So, you are Emma's friend? And she tells me that you study law together?" Cillian said politely, breaking the awkward initial silence while sipping from his wine glass. His demeanor appeared relaxed yet focused, showing a genuine interest in what you had to say.

"Yes, we've known each other since we were kids actually!" You advised casually while waiting for the waitress to pour you a glass of wine as well. The mention of childhood memories caused a subtle change in the atmosphere.

"Y/N is an honor student, top of her class," bragged Emma proudly before Jamie pulled a joke. "And Cillian here dropped out of law school after failing two of his exams," he said teasingly. All three shared a laugh over this small bit of banter, easing the initial nervousness in the air.

"What made you go to law school?" you eventually ought to enquire, seeing that everyone was now at ease and at least somewhat comfortable with each other.

"My parents," Cillian chuckled before telling you some more about his upbringing, and you did the same.

With that, conversations moved from topic to topic for two hours while you all enjoyed some Japanese food. The topics discussed were ranging from film projects they worked on, dating stories, to politics. But underneath it all lingered an unspoken tension.

As time went on, Cillian's attention shifted toward you, glances growing longer and more frequent. Emma noticed this too, shooting looks back at you with mischievous intent while you became rather quiet and nervous, which was something Cillian picked up immediately.

"So, tell me Y/N," he interrupted, attempting to start another conversation. "What do you want to achieve in life? What are your ambitions?" There was an undertone of curiosity in his question as it became clear to you that him and Jamie had been talking about you.

Feeling somewhat uneasy about this revelation, you answered confidently, telling him about your aspirations to become a successful lawyer someday, contributing positively to society through justice reform and empowerment.

Emma chimed in excitedly, adding how determined you are when pursuing your goals. "She doesn't give up easily – I know because sometimes we compete against each other for better grades. I don't usually stand a chance though because she is a nerd!".

Cillian chuckled appreciatively. "Well, then I have no doubt that you can reach those dreams one day," he remarked thoughtfully and with a warm smile just as the waitress came to take your order for dessert.

While you waited for your desserts to arrive, Jamie suggested that you could all enjoy some drinks at his apartment afterwards instead of going out to a bar and, both, Cillian and Emma agreed instantly, eager to spend more quality time with each other.

You, too, reluctantly agreed, knowing that spending more time with them privately would potentially increase your chances of getting to know Cillian a bit better while, at the same time, you were a little nervous about what else the night could bring.

***

Shortly after dinner, you all left the restaurant. Jamie led the way, expertly navigating through crowds. As you walked, you could feel the excitement building within, not just because of the unknown that lay ahead, but also the undeniable magnetic pull that emanated from Cillian. He carried himself with such poise, drawing people in without even trying.

Once inside Jamiee's luxury apartment, the four of you found yourselves drawn to the living room area. After catching up on general topics like recent films and news and drinking a decent amount of wine, Jamie proposed playing a game called 'truth or dare', which was something you had not played since high school.

"Seriously? Aren't we a bit old for that?" Emma laughed, teasing Jamie who, by this point, had shown some more intimate affection towards Emma.

"No. In fact, it becomes more fun the older you get," Jamie pointed out with a wink while Emma simply rolled her eyes.

This was designed to break the ice further and get everyone comfortable enough to share personal information. Taking turns, each person had to answer either a truthful statement or perform a dare and, whilst everyone was familiar to the rules, the idea of playing this game with a group of adults like this made you nervous, knowing very well where this could lead.

Naturally, Emma volunteered first and selected 'truth' and it was Jamie who asked the question, "What's your most embarrassing memory involving Y/N?" He laughed good-humoredly.

Her face turned red as she hesitated, clearly struggling to think of something, finally saying: "It involves us meeting up late one night, running across campus half naked and high on weed. Neither of us had smoked it before and we ended up sleeping in between the hedges. It was rather embarrassing when Y/N's idiot of an ex-boyfriend found us the next morning and made a scene," Emma told the crowd and everybody laughed heartily, sharing their own similar experiences. This set a casual tone that eased anxieties among the group.

Turning towards Cillian, he opted for 'dare'.

Being Emma's turn, she challenged him thusly: "Go onto the balcony and strip," she giggled.

"All the way?" he asked, and she gave him a lifeline. "No. It's too early for that. Just down to your briefs. Anything more would be inappropriate," she chuckled, and Cillian obliged readily, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind about his attractiveness.

"You aren't actually going to do this, right?" you asked as he walked towards the balcony and his brows furrowed.

"Why not? No one will see me. We are on the 28th floor!" Cillian laughed and, upon returning, Cillian took a seat near you, displaying raw power and magnetism as he crossed his legs, but put his t-shirt back on, leaving him comfortable in black Calvin-Klein briefs and a black t-shirt.

Now, it was your turn. Under pressure, you chose 'truth', and Emma decided to ask you a question.

She wanted to know, "Who's your celebrity crush?" and you immediately gasped. Without missing a beat, you blushed and looked at Cillian and murmured his name.

The others burst into loud guffaws and cheers, Jamie playfully punching Cillian's arm as he congratulated him on his appeal while your cheeks turned red.

"Are you just saying this because I am sitting right next to you?" Cillian laughed and you nervously shook your head.

"No. I mean, I think you are, uhm, really...uhm...," you stammered, and, despite your obvious discomfort, you found yourself unable to look away from Cillian.

Cillian raised his eyebrows in response of your unfinished statement and Emma intervened, saying "she thinks that you are hot, Cillian!"

"That's good to know," Cillian winked in response and his bold moves had captured your full attention now. Your aroused state heightened significantly, and you suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely attracted to his intensity.

At long last, you reached another turn. Swallowing hard, you stood up and announced solemnly, "I choose dare." Everyone's gaze fell on you expectantly as Emma spoke up and dared you to kiss someone of your choosing.

You swallowed harshly, acutely aware of the sudden heat in your cheeks and, since you were afraid to choose anyone else, you chose Emma.

Everybody watched closely as you moved towards her slowly, closing the gap between you two. Feeling the fire igniting deep within, you pressed your lips tenderly against hers, teasingly at first, then passionately, pulling her closer to you. Her hands slid down your sides, touching your waist, and caressing your curves until they rested on your ass.

"Fuck, that I did not expect," Jamie gasped, seeing that, contrary to Emma, he knew very well that you were usually rather prude while Cillian simply smiled enigmatically.

"Is that okay?" Emma then asked as, eventually, her hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts.

"Yes, I think so," you said nervously before Emma slowly pulled off your top. Your nipples grew hard, becoming erect in the cool air conditioning of the apartment.

"It is your turn Cillian. Truth or dare?" Emma then asked huskily as she sat close to you, running her fingers along your neck seductively. Her breath tickling your earlobe.

Your eyes widened, unsure if you should proceed. However, feeling emboldened by the alcohol, you chose to go along with it as Cillian said "dare" with a low and husky voice, unable to look away from your naked chest.

"Dare, huh?" Emma teased while walking over towards him seductively and reaching for his hand, thereby pulling him off his chair.

"Come over here and touch her, just above her thigh," commanded Emma in a low seductive voice while guiding Cillian over towards you.

Your heart raced as Cillian followed her lead, moving steadily towards where you were sitting.

He then kneeled before you and placed his large, strong hands softly on your inner thighs, causing a surge of desire to course through your veins while Emma positioned herself next to you again.

"Is that alright?" Cillian asked politely, seeking consent, as the atmosphere in the room intensified dramatically, every eye fixed on the unfolding scenario.

"Yes, that feels nice," you whispered softly, allowing his massive hands to slide higher up your leg, beneath your skirt, brushing against your sensitive skin and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The scent of Cillian's cologne filled your nostrils, reminding you of his presence.

Meanwhile, Jamie observed the situation with interest, sipping his wine slowly. Emma continued to sit beside you, rubbing your shoulders suggestively.

"Just a little higher, Cill..." Emma encouraged Cillian, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

As he carefully pushed aside your skirt, exposing your lace panties, you couldn't help but tremble slightly in anticipation.

"You are really wet already, Y/n," he commented almost matter-of-factly. Despite the alcohol, it was clear that you weren't simply imagining it; your moistness revealed an unspoken attraction toward him. It was intense and you desperately wanted him to touch your core.

Answering your prayers, Cillian brushed his fingers tentatively over the soaking fabric of your thong, his touch eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as the sensation sent a ripple of electricity throughout your entire frame.

Emma let out a pleased hum at the sight of you squirming underneath his touch. Meanwhile, Jamie was watching intently, his eyes glinting with a mixture of intrigue and amusement before urging Cillian on.

"It's Emma's turn and I know she will choose dare, so tell her what to do Cillian," he chuckled mischievously.

Cillian narrowed his eyes at Jamie, then directed his attention towards Emma, a cocky grin forming on his face.

"I dare you to remove your clothes," he taunted, staring deeply into her eyes.

Emma paused briefly, contemplating whether to accept the challenge or not. But ultimately, her rebellious nature won out as she confidently replied, "Alright" before beginning to strip in front of them all. Starting from her shoes, she removed each piece of clothing methodically, showcasing her voluptuous body and accentuating her feminine curves.

With each garment discarded, the room became increasingly charged with lust and desire, filling everyone with growing anticipation. Once naked, she strutted towards Jamie, giving you and Cillian some space as, still, he drew circles over your panties.

"Well, looks like we don't need any more dares," Jamie then noted, removing his clothes also and, finally, showering Emma with some rough but passionate attention.

Their bodies intertwined with one another effortlessly, drawing gasps from the audience around them. Your face flushed hotly at the sight, as you could feel a growing sense of arousal inside you.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" Cillian asked as he moved even closer to you, ensuring you wouldn't miss a single bit of his commanding demeanor.

"No...I mean...yes...," you stammered nervously, causing Cillian to cock his eyebrows again. "I mean, yes, please kiss me," you clarified, your words barely a whisper as you allowed him to move closer.

As his warm breath grazed past your mouth, he closed the distance between you both. Your lips met ever so gently, your connection seemingly electrical. Your hearts raced together as his tongue danced with yours, delving deeper and deeper into your mouth.

"Look how hard you make him," Emma drawled, her tone dripping with seduction as she watched your reactions to Cillian who was now moving his lips from your mouth to your neck and then all the way down to your naked breasts. His erection was evidentially straining against his Calvin Klein briefs but you did not dare to look at his crotch.

Each touch made your breath catch in your throat, the warmth of his tongue tracing shapes across your skin sending shockwaves through your system. You arched your back instinctively, inviting more of his ministrations.

To help you along, Emma and Jamie had moved themselves to a spot behind you and her arms encircled around your torso tightly.

"Spread your legs for him, baby," suggested Emma while pressing herself firmly against your lower back, making sure not to lose contact with you.

Her demand spurred you on, and you obliged without hesitation, spreading your legs wide apart for Cillian who did not hesitate to finally take off your panties completely. Now fully exposed, your most private area lay bared right there in front of him and Emma said "doesn't she have a pretty little pussy?" while looking directly at you. Your face flushed crimson as embarrassment washed over you, but yet, there was something rather arousing about the way she spoke.

"Yes, her pussy looks absolutely divine!" Cillian remarked as he admired your entrance while probing it gently. It wasn't difficult to see why he found such fascination in your body – your cleft lips parted to form a small opening that invited further investigation.

"Put your finger inside her and see how tight she is," ordered Emma, her own voice having become hoarse due to her earlier activities with Jamie. And without missing a beat, Cillian complied eagerly, gently inserting his index finger into your tight entrance, stroking your walls gingerly. It didn't take much persuasion for you to oblige.

"She is very tight indeed," he groaned as you looked back at him hungrily and moaned.

"And look how fucking wet she is too," Cillian observed before withdrawing his finger from your cleft and bringing it up to Emma's mouth, offering it for her to taste. With a hint of playful mischief, she took his offered digit into her mouth, sucking it clean before returning it to its original position between your legs, stimulating you further with her expert technique.

Jamie joined in, taking hold of your hand and placing it upon his own bulging member, instructing you to stroke him with long, leisurely movements. His manhood twitched in response, causing a sharp flutter within your belly.

"Let me get my tongue between those beautiful lips, sweetheart." Cillian murmured, captivated by your allure. Your whole body thrummed with anticipation as he knelt down again, preparing himself to carry out his request.

"Oh god please," you moaned suddenly as his mouth fastened onto your swollen labia, first tenderly caressing it with gentle bites and licks, then fiercely thrusting his tongue deep into your core. Every time he penetrated you with his tongue, a wave of ecstatic delight swept through your limbs, making you quiver with joy.

At the same time, you stroked Jamie's erect length, reveling in the feeling of his thick, velvety member sliding through your palms. It was an incredible sensory experience you would remember forever.

"Oh god Cillian! This feels so good…" you gasped, unable to contain yourself as a sudden surge of pleasure flooded your entire body. Both men noticed the intensity of your reaction, their eyes burning with the desire they saw reflected in yours and even Emma let out a moan as she watched the scene unfold.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," praised Cillian appreciatively, savoring the flavors on his tongue after sampling you thoroughly.

As you gazed at Cillian, mesmerized by his dominance, he swiftly stood up and undressed, the sight of which made you let go off Jamie's cock and stare at Cillian's erection instead. His impressive size only added fuel to your desires and Emma smiled wickedly seeing you ogling at Cillian’s package.

"You should taste him. He tastes fantastic!" Emma urged excitedly, prompting you to place your lips around Cillian's rigid length and start sucking greedily.

"Would you like me to?" you asked Cillian nervously, unsure yet enticed by the idea.

"Only if you want to," Cillian said as he gave you a seductive smile.

"I do," you confirmed nervously while, with steady hands, you placed your lips gently over the tip of his erection, allowing just enough air to flow in to create a ticklish sensation. At the same time, Emma began working her magic once more, engaging in an erotic dance with Jamie, teasing him with close encounters and slow caresses. Their passionate interactions intensified, heightening the already charged atmosphere.

"That feels good. Keep going," Cillian urged as you continued sucking him vigorously, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. The sounds of the others lost all meaning as you focused solely on pleasuring Cillian, ignoring the fact that Jamie was taking Emma roughly from behind, right over the back of the couch.

Her moans echoed loudly, signaling her unadulterated enjoyment, despite the precariousness of their positions. The soundtrack playing in the background seemed almost obscene compared to what unfolded before their very eyes.

Cillian's strong hands held your head, guiding you deeper onto his erection gently as you sucked him with increased fervor. With every passing moment, his moans grew louder, betraying his rising excitement. But then, he pulled away abruptly and reached for the packet of condoms which Jamie had conveniently placed on the sofa.

"Do you want me to?" Cillian asked, wanting confirmation before proceeding further. You quickly nodded your assent, desperate to give him whatever he desired.

"Alright, then bend over and face your gorgeous friend," commanded Cillian sternly, demonstrating a level of control few could match. Without delay, you immediately obeyed, turning toward Emma and presenting your round bottom for Cillian to ravage.

As you adjusted your posture accordingly, you caught Emma smirking knowingly at you, evidently proud of your submissiveness while Cillian carefully removed a condom from the pack Jamie provided before rolling it onto his engorged member.

Then, Cillian approached you slowly, letting you savor the impending moment before he entered you.

Positioning himself between your thighs, he rubbed his swollen manhood against your slick folds teasingly, creating a tantalizing friction that left you craving even more. When he felt ready, he applied pressure, angling his hips slightly, allowing his massive length to ease effortlessly into your warm embrace. As his bulk stretched your entrance, you couldn't help but cry out in surprise. Despite the initial discomfort, it served only to excite you even more knowing that you had taken something so large and imposing inside you.

"Fuck you are tight," Cillian exclaimed, his voice filled with raw hunger. His forceful rhythm matched perfectly with your increasing ardor. You threw your head back in a display of utter surrender, your nipples growing harder with each thrust. Meanwhile, Jamie continued to take advantage of Emma's body with reckless abandon.

Emma grunted with satisfaction, mirroring your wild expressions of bliss. Her high pitched whimpers were music to your ears, driving you to push Cillian faster.

"Just last week, Emma had Cillian's cock in her ass. Did you know that?" Jamie groaned, watching you enjoy his friend's hardness with ravenous enthusiasm. "Oh god, you're so fucking hot like this, Em" he then groaned, holding Emma's waist as he drove into her.

In response, Emma smiled wickedly, her breath coming heavily. "Absolutely, I love being taken and it looks like Y/N enjoys it as well. Just look at her, moaning and squirming while your friend fucks her," Emma commented, her voice dripping with approval. "Oh, God yes. I do. Fuck, please don't stop!" you cried out, driven mad by the pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin was damp with perspiration, and you could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building in your core.

As your body trembled with the approach of release, Emma reached forward and stroked your face before placing her lips on to yours, causing you to moan into her mouth.

"Fuck, you two are amazing together," Cillian muttered in admiration, looking at you while his pace quickened, pounding into you relentlessly.

The sensations he created were unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Every nerve ending seemed alive and awake, screaming for more. All of you shared glances of pride and acknowledgement, your eyes meeting briefly before drifting back to focus on the spectacle happening before you. The room itself became hazy with heat, steam from bodies filling the space as everyone indulged in each other's company.

"Do you like this?" Emma whispered softly into your ear, her breath stirring your hair gently.

“Yes. Oh god yes," you replied eagerly, losing track of time completely while Cillian's fingers found your sensitive spots, brushing them tenderly until you begged for more.

"Please, Cillian," you entreated, your voice hoarse from desire. "Keep doing that!" You felt consumed by waves of euphoria crashing one after another, leaving you delirious with pleasure. Each touch of his talented digits sent shockwaves across your body, causing you to lose any sense of reason until, eventually, you could not hold it any longer.

Overwhelmed by the powerful rush of sensations, you climaxed with such intensity that your legs shook, your eyes rolled back in your head, and involuntary gasps escaped your throat.

"Yes, oh god yes," you repeated endlessly, barely aware of what you said anymore. Your whole world narrowed down to the feelings that coursed through your body, nothing else mattering except the pleasure that wracked your frame. And when you finally came down from the edge, you opened your eyes again and heard Emma say "don't waste your cum, Cillian! Pull out of her and let us have a taste!"

Cillian though hesitated for a brief moment, considering whether to comply with her request. Then, he looked directly into your eyes, making sure you were okay with that and, after receiving a confident nod from you, he pulled out.

"Cum in my mouth and I make sure to share with Em," you said, surprised by your own confidence as, quickly, you dropped to your knees to catch his seed in your mouth.

Without hesitation, Cillian obliged, directing the head of his cock to your open mouth while stroking himself to climax.

His cum splattered everywhere as you accepted every drop hungrily, opening wide and using your tongue to clean up any droplets that missed its target. You held his seed in your mouth and, while doing this, you met Emma's expectant gaze.

Leaning towards her, you kissed her lips chastely and allowed Cillian's cum to flow onto her tongue. Smiling triumphantly, she took it eagerly, ensuring there wasn't a single drop left to waste.

"Fuck that's hot," Jamie mumbled, appreciatively watching from nearby while Cillian simply let out a low groan. This kind of intimate interaction clearly got him excited beyond belief and the sight of you sharing his cum with your friend made him hard all over again.

You, on the other hand, started to feel a bit tired now, still high off your recent orgasm, but also curious as to how your body would react to yet another encounter and, as if he was reading your mind, Cillian offered to take this to the guestroom.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #jamie dornan

388 notes · View notes

blessedarethebinarybreakers · 5 months

Note

how do you keep your faith even while such horrific things are going on in palestine? i've been a christian all my life and i understand that the question of why god allows suffering is one that people have always been asking, that we can never really know the answer to, but it's just so hard for me to see things like this, all of these innocent people being terrorized and murdered in such evil ways, and understand why god can't stop it from happening. in church we pray for both israel and palestine and it feels so pointless, and just makes me frustrated that i can't actually do anything to stop this. especially knowing that even bethlehem, the place of jesus's birth and home to many palestinian christians, is being attacked and churches are being bombed. it seems pretty clear that the people committing these atrocities are never going to open their hearts and stop, and the world leaders who would have the power to make them stop either don't care or directly support them. i do not want to believe that god doesn't exist, or that god would just sit by and watch all of this happen if it were possible to stop it, but it's such a struggle at times like this. i feel like it shouldn't be and like i should've had this figured out by now. it's okay if you don't answer this, i just love your blog and have learned a lot from it over the years, and am incredibly saddened by the state of the world right now.

Hey there, anon. I feel with you and stand with you in your struggle. I also gently suggest you work on letting go of the sense that you "should" have this figured out by now. Firstly because learning to release myself from "shoulds" is something my therapist taught me and it's been super helpful for showing myself love; secondly because I believe it is deeply, deeply faithful to ask these questions, to demand to know where God is in the face of evil — not just once, but continuously across our lives.

If at any point we think we have it "all figured out," if we think we've reached a fully satisfying solution to the problem of how a good God could "let" evil things happen, we're more likely to be numbed by fatalism or become complacent in the face of injustice. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (may his memory be a blessing) put it when asked why God lets bad things happen to good people,

“God does not want us to understand, because if we ever understood, we would be forced to accept that bad things happen to good people, and God does not want us to accept those bad things. He wants us not to understand, so that we will fight against the bad and the injustices of this world, and that is why there is no answer to that question.”

Ask the questions. Bring all that you feel — your grief, your confusion, your frustration, your doubt, your fear — to God. Study and pray and converse with others.

And while you're doing all that, and accepting that it'll be a lifelong exploration, act.

Let your love, your words, your actions be the divine response to injustice — because for whatever mysterious reason, God chooses to act through us, through all who follow Their call to "do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly" (Micah 6:8).

___

So yeah, I can't tell you why God doesn't just jump in and stop the evil, why God seems to limit Their own power to intervene (or even to lack that power to begin with), why God respects our free will even when we misuse it to such great harm (though you can see the bottom of this post for places to explore all those questions).

But I can tell you where I believe God is in the midst of all the questions, all the loss, all the suffering — and that's not on some lofty throne indifferently observing our pain; God is right there in the midst of that pain.

Where is God in the face of hate, violence, death? God is co-suffering with us, shouldering the burden with us.

In Exodus 3:7, God says They don't only see the enslaved Hebrews' misery, don't only hear their cries, but that They know the people's suffering — an intimate knowing, as of one who experiences it themself.

In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us that when humanity fails to welcome the stranger, visit the prisoner, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the oppressed, we fail to do those things for him — for he identifies so intimately with all whom the world calls "least" that he is one with each and every one of them.

So I don't know why God doesn't just fix everything, dammit! — it's the first question I'll be asking Xir when I die, because wtf!!

But I do believe, and I do draw some comfort knowing, that God does not leave us to suffer alone. God is one with the oppressed; God shows ultimate solidarity to the oppressed; and God acts with each of us who act for and with and as the oppressed.

And the good news in the midst in this horror is that there are things that all of us can be doing to act in solidarity with the oppressed!

Our efforts truly are making a difference. Politicians and whole governments across the globe have been startled by the resistance to pro-Israeli propaganda and solidarity with Palestine. The change is slow, but our protests are making an impact. Palestinians have been asking that we keep protesting, boycotting, educating, spreading the word. Because it is helping, slowly but surely.

As long as Palestinians refuse to give in to despair, we too must continue to fight. Palestine will be free. We will not stand silent as genocide occurs.

Boycott as many of the companies named by BDS as you can. Notice that they're focusing on a narrower, more targeted group of companies than some of the enormous lists people keep sharing — that's to help us avoid becoming overwhelmed! So boycott what you can from their list; these are the companies directly contributing to Israel's violence. And spread their list to anyone you can.

If you live in a country with a government that has yet to join the call for a ceasefire — and especially if you, like me here in the US, live in a country that is actively funding/otherwise supporting Israel's violence — call or email your representatives to demand a ceasefire.

Resistbot can help make that easy, in the US at least.

Educate yourself about the history of Palestine and Israel. It's important so that you can recognize lies and propaganda, and also so you can speak knowledgeably about the issue with others. It's also important because understanding and simply bearing witness are two big things Palestinians ask of us. You don't need to know everything, but know enough to bear witness, to remember the loss, and to debunk bullshit when you see it.

Here are some places you can get educated — link to free ebooks; article on current events; article with current perspectives from Gaza; and I've been reblogging news & resources as I see them over on @a-queer-seminarian

Post about what Gaza is going through on social media!! Don't let the fight die down! Talk about it with friends or others you think might be swayed to join the fight if they had the information that most media stations are failing to report on.

Stand up against Islamophobia in all forms.

Stand up against antisemitism in all forms. As Christians, this includes recognizing and uprooting supersessionism in our biblical interpretation, our liturgy, our hymns, etc. It also means learning about Christian Zionism.

One of Israel's primary arguments for the "necessity" of its oppression of Palestine is that Israel is necessary because nowhere else on earth is safe for Jews. They're right that nowhere else is safe for Jews; but they're wrong that Israel is safe for Jews — an settler-colonialist state, a war zone, a state that requires every civilian to serve some time in the military, is not safe for Jews either. But as long as they can point to the antisemitism rampant across the globe, they can use that as an argument. So to counter Israel, and much more importantly to stand in solidarity with Jewish people across the world, don't let antisemitism go unchecked.

Join in protests in your area. Follow Jewish Voices for Peace or Jews Against White Supremacy for info on such events.

Link to places to offer fin.ancial support

Want more ways to act? Check out https://www.palestineaction.org/

___

There is no easy answer to the question of suffering — but even so, it can be helpful to explore it deeper, to examine what conclusions others have drawn over the eras. If you want some resources for your wrestling, here are some:

This post goes into the basics of theodicy, the "the intellectual effort to jerry-rig three mutually exclusive terms into harmony: divine power, goodness, and the experiences of evil"

Then there's my #theodicy tag where I put all posts / links about this issue

I also have a long-ass YouTube video diving deep into "the problem of suffering"!

___

I hope this response brings you comfort and courage, friend. Don't be afraid of questions, of grief, of concern — let them galvanize you for the struggle. Solidarity forever <3

#god with us #theodicy #palestine #suffering

72 notes · View notes

rintarousgirl · 9 months

Text

i wanna be yours -- 4. fluorescent adolescent

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

a/n: there is heavy alcohol use and vomiting in this, but it's fairly quick so don't worry about missing much if you need to skip it!

Suna's voice was angelic.

That was the only way you could describe it. His voice still held that sweet-smooth quality, sugared words dripping from his lips like honey. You tried to focus on the lyrics, how sweet they probably were considering the girls screaming in the audience. You knew they probably wrote love songs considering they were attractive young men. But you couldn't focus on the song itself, not even the pounding of the drums of the thick bass line.

You couldn't keep your eyes (and ears) off Suna.

He was wonderful, more than wonderful. Beautiful maybe, or alluring.

And it continued like that for the rest of the night. Occasionally Atsumu would run off stage, grabbing a few waters for the rest of them. You managed to coax Osamu off stage to fix his hair, seeing as the hat and sweat had made it stick up.

For the next two and a half hours, you sat there, borderline mesmerized by the band. Kita sometimes would cheer at the end of songs, sitting in his chair by the steps. He seemed just as invested as you did.

As the band did a small q&a to end off the concert, you make your way over to Kita on the stairs.

"I want to do the tour for you," you say softly, hoping none of the mics on the edge of the stage would pick up your voice. "I liked today. A lot."

Kita smiles. "I knew you would," he says confidently, "I was being truthful when I said I had faith in you. I'm not a kind person, Y/N, you can ask anyone. I'm told I'm blunt and rude. I would not install all this false confidence in you if I didn't think today would work out."

You feel a little bashful blush grow on your cheeks, and you return his small smile with a beam of your own. "Thank you, Kita. It really means a lot."

""Course. Oh, and by the way, you'll be paid for this by next week. And you'll get a better pay for tour. I just realized we'd never discussed payment."

You wave your hand, "It gets lost in the rush to get the job done. Just remind me when I should stop by and pick it up."

Kita nods, looking back over to the stage. "There's an after party tonight, and there's going to be a few friends invited. You're welcome to attend, I'd be willing to drive you."

"That would be great! I'd love to go."

Your small conversation is cut off by the band ending the q&a. They blow kisses and wave, and they're happy. That's what matters. They're sweaty and gross and panting so hard it looks like they're about to pass out but they're happy. They come off stage, laughing and chatting. Suna's even smiling too, beaming as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

Aran's the first to approach you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "How'd we do?" he asks teasingly, a biting grin on his lips.

"Great," you say honestly, "I was shocked."

He laughs. "I know, I saw you. Your jaw was on the floor."

You match his laugh with a giggle of your own. You brush your hair from your face. "Can you blame me? The music was great."

Aran nods, licking his lips. "Did Kita invite you to the after party?"

"Yes," you say, "where is it exactly?"

"The twins. They're loaded, like...their family is. They got this huge condo out on the beach. It's the best place to party, so it'll be there. I assume you'll catch a ride with someone?"

"Yeah, with Kita."

Aran smiles. "Good. I'm curious to see what kind of person you are when you aren't all stressed."

You hit his arm lightly. "Hey! I'm pretty relaxed right now!"

"Sure, whatever you say."

You don't notice Suna's gaze from the across the room, his eyes squinting, and his lip bitten. Aran does though, and swiftly moves his arm from around your shoulder and brings you over to the main conversation.

Aran wasn't joking when he said the Miya twins were loaded. When you pulled up outside of their mansion, trailing behind Kita's car in your own, you couldn't help the way your eyes widened.

Walking in, you were greeted by music, some hip-hop rap beat that wasn't familiar to you in any manner, but you could see a group of people in the kitchen and the smell of alcohol. You and Kita were a bit late, having been the ones to hang back and clean the rented space as the band met up with their friends at the Miya's house.

You enter the kitchen, feeling multiple sets of eyes on you. "Guys," Kita says, "This is Y/N, the new makeup artist."

There's a soft bout of silence, and you watch as multiple sets of eyes fall on Suna, who gives a half-hearted shrug. You tuck that little piece of information into the back of your mind to ask about later.

A girl, the only one other than yourself, walks towards you. She holds out her hand, and her cheeks are a flushed pink. "Hi! I'm Hitoka Yachi! Though you can just call me 'Chi, that's what most people do."

You take her hand with a smile. "Hi, I'm Y/N. It's good to know these guys have friends that are women. I started to feel a bit secluded," you joke to which she giggles and nods. She's clearly anxious, struggling to not stutter through her words with her anxiety. You mentally thank her for stepping up though, considering nobody else seemed quite interested in doing so.

Overtime you learn the other's name. There's Oikawa Tooru and Takahiro Hanamaki from the two-partner band SEITWO. They mainly talk to the Kita and Aran, but Hanamaki smiles at you from the kitchen island when you grab your third shot of the night. There's Yachi's fellow band members of KARA3UNO, Kageyama and Yamaguchi who you've heard of. At least, you know them better than you knew INARIZAKI.

There's also a man named Sakusa Kiyoomi, who seems to hang around the twins. You know of him a lot better than anyone else in the room. He was a famous producer, having produced some of your favorite albums. You were the most scared to talk to him. Like, you were the lowly makeup artist. Nobody else had bothered to invite their makeup artist. Though, then again, nobody else brought along their managers yet Kita was here with you.

Slowly, as the night progressed, you loosen up. You down more shots, and at one point you end up doing some disney karaoke with Yachi. Your voice is mediocre compared to the professional singer's, but people cheer for you nonetheless as the two of you dance around wasted.

Eventually, the shots you took for fun become shots you feel like you need to take. Shake of the edge that manages to keep crawling around your shoulders like a blanket.

Yachi bites her lip, drunk herself but not on the same level as you as you come stumbling to sit next to each other. Yachi steals a sip from the beer in your hand, and you hiccup, trying not to drop it.

"Uh," you mumble, "Who was the old makeup artist--for, uh, INARIZAKI?"

Yachi processes the question for a second, her face a bit sour.

"Kiyoko?"

You nod, feeling a bit dizzy. The name seems familiar, but in your muddy drunk mind you can't really remember much.

"She's like...my best friend. She's the only reason I really have a career at all, actually. When she worked for the band, she introduced me to..uh Sakusa, and he signed me up with Tobio and Tadashi."

"Seems sweet," you say truthfully, but there's still this sense that there's something wrong going on in your mind.

"Yeah, uh, she quit though...obviously. She quit because--"

Yachi must've been talking a lot louder than you thought you guys were because Suna strides over and pulls you upright. "'Chi," he greets with a nod, and she smiles.

"Sunarin," she replies, a nickname you recall Atsumu frequently calling Suna.

"I think Kageyama is trying to find you, seemed a bit urgent."

Yachi's brows furrow, and slowly she stands, your beer still in her hand as she calls out for her band member. Once she's out of the picture, Suna turns to face you, and you realize just how close you two were.

There are only inches between you, and you know you're both drunk, but Suna is easily one of the soberest people in the house. His arm is around your waist, and he quickly removes it, an embarrassed flush tinting his cheeks.

"Wanted me all to yourself, didn't ya, Sunarin," you tease, the alcohol allowing the words to flow freely from your brain to your mouth. Suna seems to notice this, a grimace on his lips.

"If you're going to call me any nicknames, I'd rather it be Rin."

"Okay, Rin," you draw out the 'n', but it still manages to snag a smile out of him.

"You're drunk," he points out, as the two of you walk. You notice you're going into an area of the house you don't recognize, but that isn't on the front of your mind right now. You're too focused on how pretty Suna---Rintarou looked in the dim lighting of the hallway you were in.

The sounds of the others partying deafens around you, and you don't want to hear anything but Rintarou's voice. "You're so pretty, Rin," you slur, your head lolling onto his shoulder. "I shoulda told you after the show. You sounded amazing."

"Thank you," he says softly, trying to direct you into a straight line. "You're very pretty too, Y/N." the words are truthful, you can tell that much, but there's this disappointed and almost sad quality to his voice.

"What's wrong?" you ask, blinking the daze from your eyes. Rintarou looks at you, chewing on his lip. He opens his mouth to say something but suddenly your stomach is churning and you're gagging into your palm.

Rintarou acts immediately, pushing you into a nearby bathroom and kneeling you next to the toilet. He pulls your hair from your face just as you finally vomit, the contents of your stomach emptying.

It was mainly fluids, considering you hadn't eaten much. The regurgitated alcohol burned your throat, and you coughed and dry-heaved even after you'd finished. Rintarou gave you a roll of paper, which you wiped your mouth with before flushing it down the toilet.

Closing the lid, you leaned back against the wall.

"Fuck," you groan, "I am so sorry, Rintarou."

He tilts his head. "For what?"

You laugh, out of absurdity of the whole situation. Usually you were more responsible than this, and you would limit yourself. The last time you got yourself this drunk was with your friends, and Akaashi had to drive you home, considering you couldn't drive yourself.

You probably wouldn't be able to tonight either, even if you were more sober now.

"For ruining your night," you explain. "I-I'm better than this. I was stupid." You place your hands on your face, trying to hide the tears threatening to pop up in your eyes and the shame being clear on your face.

He takes your wrists in his hands, and he holds them. He holds your wrists gently, and your fingers brush his lips. That's how close you guys were. He's kneeling in front of you, despite your breath no doubt reeking of alcohol and the fact you looked like a mess.

"You were having fun, that's what matters. You didn't ruin anything. Actually, you made my night a lot more interesting. Gave me something to pay attention to other than the idiots out there."

He laughs at his own words, and you try not to look too shocked. It's probably the most he's ever said to you, and you feel a smile make it's way onto your face.

"I'm still gonna feel bad."

Rintarou shrugged. "Well, I'm not judging you."

"Thanks," you deadpan, which pulls out a huff of laughter. Rintarou sighs, and runs a hand through his hair.

"Do you want tea? I kind of want tea, my voice is shot."

"Tea sounds pretty nice right now."

The two of you walk down to the kitchen, taking a less-public path. The Miya condo was big, so that means there were multiple ways of getting to the same room. This way, you could avoid the others still partying in the living room.

Rintarou goes quiet again, sensing that they didn't need to talk. It was nice not needing to fill the silence between you two with chatter. It's nice silence, soft and quiet. You sit at the island counter and watch as he manages to find some teabags in the pantry and begins to make tea for the two of you.

As the water boils, you rest your chin in your hand. "Again," you sigh, "I'm really sorry again. I know you said you wouldn't judge or whatever, but like, I'm still sorry. You should be able to drink and have fun with your friends."

"You're my friend," he points out, "I"m having more fun sitting here making tea then listening to Kageyama try to sing Taylor Swift songs."

You laugh, shoulders trembling. Rintarou smiles, shaking his head.

"You barely know me. Why are you doing me favors?" it isn't that serious of a question, but Rintarou takes it as one. He frowns, placing a cup in front of you.

"I know I'm not the best conversationalist but...you're new, this is your first introduction to the celebrity world. I guess I just want to make sure you don't get lost along the way or something like that."

"Sweet sentiment," you tease, "are you drawn to me, Rin? Couldn't possibly leave me alone?"

He huffs. "Are you sure you're not still drunk?"

"Not entirely."

"Well, either way, it's pretty pathetic that those guys--" he points to the living room, "are my only friends."

Your brows furrow. "Actually?"

He sighs. "Can't have many friends when you're famous. Doesn't end well."

"Oh?"

Rintarou looks down at the table and blows out a heavy breath. Then he turns around and takes the teapot off the stove. He puts the teabags into the cups and pours them.

"Is it why Kiyoko quit?"

You watch as his back goes straight and frigid, and you immediately know that it's the wrong question. Slowly, he turns around and pours your cup.

"I'm sorry--Fuck, that was a stupid question--"

"It's fine," he mutters, "There's a bunch of rumors about it anyway, I was kind of waiting for you to ask."

"Still, uh, it's clearly not a fun topic."

"You're right," Rintarou says, and picks up his cup and takes a sip. "But I'd rather not talk about it. Not yet at least."

"Okay," you accept, thankful that he was at least honest with you about it. You'd rather wait than hear some lie because he felt pressured to tell you. You didn't want to ruin...whatever you two were becoming anyway. It felt good to have a friend other than Kita in the band.

Well, you could consider Aran a friend, but he didn't pay much attention to you anyway. He was nice, but you really only talked to him because of his brother.

You take a sip of the tea, and it's warm and nice. The taste is strong but not overpowering, and Rintarou had just made it perfectly.

"Do you like tea?" you ask softly, lowering your cup.

Rintarou nods. "It's good for your vocal cords. A lot better than coffee. Yachi's voice is gonna be fried because she drinks so much coffee. She doesn't believe me."

You giggle. "Give her some of your tea, maybe she'll be convinced. It's really good. Better than any tea I've ever had."

"Thanks," RIntarou smiles, "I've been wanting to make boba sometime soon, try out new things."

"I'd like to make boba with you!" you beam, "I love boba tea."

He chuckles. "We, uh, we could plan something. Do I have your number?"

You shake your head and take out your phone. You slide it over to him, and let him type in his number. He sends a quick text to himself, before giving it back to you.

"I'd like that," you say. "Uh, this may sound weird, but could I take a photo for my twitter? I like to post on there a lot."

Rintarou laughs and nods. "Feel free. I like to post a lot too; my twitter page is a mess."

You take a photo of the two of you, and then take a picture of your two teacups. You quickly post both to your twitter account and send a 0.5 of Rintarou's face to Akaashi just to send him an update that you were in fact alive.

Rintarou makes a face when you snap the picture, and he gently pushed your phone down so you're looking at his eyes. "Couldn't possibly not have me in your camera roll, huh?"

He's playing on your own teasing words, and you let out a soft giggle. "I like taking photos of my friends."

"Good to know, because so do I."

And in a moment of surprise, he lifts his own phone and takes a rapid number of photos. You're caught off guard, and flinch as his flash goes off multiple times. You laugh, loud and free as you try and raise your hands to block the camera.

Eventually, he puts the phone down with a sigh. "How can I take good photos of you if you won't let me see your face?" he pouts, and it's so over-exaggerated that you couldn't help but laugh again.

And you did end up driving home that night, with multiple photos of Rintarou in your camera roll and an airy warmth in your chest.

<- previous | next -> | masterlist

★ - y/n is usually a responsible drinker (as she said) but she let herself get loose tonight because she really enjoyed the concert (despite the nerves she was attempting to shake off) and hopes her job lasts

★ - the next chapter is going to have A LOT of smau stuff to make up for the lack of it in this chap. i just needed to get in the suna & y/n interactions for whats to come next ;)

★ - suna isn't a big drinker. he'll have one or two beers and that's it, which also means he's usually the designated driver.

★ - yachi had already had a few drinks prior to meeting y/n, so that's why she wasn't as nervous as she is shown in canon! though, she will be more nervous next time they talk lol

★ - more kiyoko lore ?? coming soon hehe

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @fleoresies \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1

136 notes · View notes

onboardsorasora · 7 months

Text

That video 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 made me want to write more tennis Dan. He is so so soft... I just. Here's some soft tennis Dan 🥺

I'll tag everything properly tomorrow

Part 1 l Part 21

Part 22

"DR, I need an answer." It was Blake, calling into the kitchen from the living room. Daniel peaked out above the open fridge door in confusion.

"To?"

"The WTA, the meet starts tomorrow."

"Oh." Daniel closed the door, his brow furrowed as he looked at his hand, it wasn't swollen anymore and the surgical scar didn't look so severe. "I thought you were joking about that."

It was the complete end of the season, the US Open had ended weeks ago with total Djoko dominance. The only thing left on the docket was a tournament held by the World Tennis Association, where they invited the top six men and women in the world to play essentially dinner theatre for a cash prize at the end.

As the world number 1, Daniel was automatically invited, but with his injury he had been ruled out and replaced.

"No, Matteo dropped out. He hurt his ankle– so they asked if you're good. I told em your doc signed off but it's up to you."

Blake watched as Daniel got that deer in headlights look and sighed. He turned back to his laptop, preparing to reply in the negative.

"Daniel, are you ok?" Max exited his sim room, eyeing Daniel's shell shocked form curiously, almost worriedly.

Carefully, Blake filled him in when it seemed like Daniel was having a conversation with his palm— as if he was willing his bones to give him the answers.

"You should do it." Max said simply. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge– nudging Daniel out of the way as he did so.

"Wait what now?" Daniel's head whipped up, his shock returned.

Max shrugged, he said what he said and he knew Daniel heard him.

"But…"

"You can grip the racquet, you're right hand dominant anyway so it'll just be if you want to power through your back hand– which you don't normally do a lot so I don't think you're going to all of a sudden want to, maybe." Max stated matter of factly with a small shrug of his broad shoulders. Blake and Daniel stared at him as if he grew another head.

A loud crunch sounded behind them and Daniel almost got whiplash from turning to see Micheal sitting on the island countertop eating an apple. "He's right." Is all he added, his mouth full.

"What if— what if I like fall or something?" Daniel's voice was small, insecure. His shoulders sagged a little.

"Don't fall." Was Michael's oh so helpful reply.

"Just like…tuck?" Blake was marginally better but still received a deadpan glare.

"I can't think of crashing when I drive, or else I won't drive to the best of my abilities. You never used to think of falling when you play, you shouldn't start now." Max cupped Daniels cheek with his cold palm– wet from the condensation.

"Max—" Daniel felt nervous, helpless. But he wasn't sure if he was ready. He wanted to play, don't get him wrong. The fire was in his belly and watching the US Open had been an exercise in torture. But now that the opportunity was in front of him, he felt hesitant to step forward and take it.

Max watched him with a quiet confidence that was just all Max. Daniel looked around and saw Blake and Micheal also looking at him with a silent belief. They believed he was ready but they were ultimately leaving it to his decision.

"How soon can we leave?" Daniel asked after a moment, bolstered their faith and conviction.

The group of men cheered, apologizing swiftly and contritely to the cats who scattered in fear at the sudden noise.

#maxiel #max/daniel #tennis!dan #tennis player! Dan #tennis au

44 notes · View notes

kavaeric · 1 year

Text

Y'know I think the reason why I hate the term "content creator" isn't necessarily the word choice of calling stuff posted online "content". Superficially I don't think it's a bad idea to have an intentionally vague catch-all term a la "queer" that ensures gatekeeping is difficult by definition.

I think the actual reason why I hate the term "content creator" is that it places overwhelming focus on the end product, not on creation as a process or skillset. "Artist" "writer" "documentarian" "musician" or even a vague catch-all term like "creative" is much nicer to me because it's a term that places the emphasis on the human being and their skills and craft, rather than the output. If anything defines me it's not the actual final pictures I post on the internet, but the skills and techniques and methods of thinking I've incorporated into my being over my lifetime. Even with clients, the point of a portfolio isn't so much us showing off what we've created in the past, but is rather simply a means to demonstrate what skills we have developed. At a broader scope, it's also why a resumé is a list of skills, degrees, and workplace experiences first and foremost, with specific final outputs and projects being secondary if mentioned at all.

Conversely, "content creator" reduces all of that to the end product. It's a phrase that suggests a disinterest in the how and almost exclusively on the what. Here you're defined not by what skills you have as a person, but rather on what your output is: you are a creator of content, and the content is what's actually important above all else. The "creator" in "content creator" is but a mere means to an end, and the thing about being viewed as a means-to-an-end is that the people in charge will want to replace you with something more efficient if it'll result in the same end, in their mind.

Over the years we've been seeing the ongoing trivialisation of creatives at large: not just the NFT and AI art drivel, but also the replacement of practical effects and sets with CG solely because those workers are cheaper, the abuse of video game developers, the erosion of selling music as a viable income stream, the normalisation of spec work from writers and graphic designers, the list goes on. All of these events and more, in my view, have the same undercurrent of viewing final products and results as the most important thing in the creative process; care for the human beings who actually make the things is secondary at best.

Hence I don't think that a lot of the observations people make about tech dudebros flip-flopping between "art is immutably valuable and unique" for NFTs and "art is basically all the same and interchangeable" with AI isn't necessarily hypocrisy, because when you understand that these people view the tangible but inanimate final product, an entity that demands nothing of you nor will invite any protest if reduced to a single number on a spreadsheet, as the most important thing? Of course they have no problem doing both. It's also why you can't actually engage with these people on good faith; at the end of the day trying to appeal to their sense of morality when it comes to the welfare of human beings is not really what they're interested in, frankly.

It's the mass acceptance of "so long as we get the results, I don't care how we go about achieving them" which honestly freaks me out the most.

#personal #kav's hyperfixations

199 notes · View notes

9800sblog · 10 months

Note

Could you do reading bts v and his spouse first meeting like impressions and stuff? 💜

V/Kim Taehyung tarot reading - meeting with his future spouse and first impressions

-> do I have his energy permission to do and share this reading? high priestess

context of meeting

6 of pentacles, 2 of swords, the high priestess reversed, justice, queen of swords reversed, bottom of the deck king of swords

their meeting has a purpose, they're divine counterparts, if you believe in that, if you don't, then they're like Amélie and Nino in the movie Amélie. they'll probably meet when they least expect it, but they will come together to ease each other's burden when they need it the most. it's like they have the red string of faith and it'll just work out like that, when everything else is in balance and ready, when everything that needed to happen has happened, all the character development is done and their stories are basically just missing each other. it's not a coincidence. it might be literal, someone might introduce the duo but they're already a thing spiritually, it's already perfect, they're made for each other.

his first impression of them

love at first sight, he thinks this is his soulmate and they have lived a different lifetime together, this person is everything he has ever wished for. for some reason, legs and feet are standing out, they may hold a beautiful position and/or be wearing a nice outfit with good shoes, maybe high heels. they are really nice, may be with friends and he'll notice how easily this person works with other people or he'll notice that when this person doesn't monopolize the conversation. he thinks this person is faking happiness, frustrated and he'll immediately want to help them. they look like they come from money and have similar spiritual beliefs and struggles to him.

their first impression of him

they may be confused but they're extremely happy to see him, these two really might have met in a different lifetime because this feels like a relief, like "thank god you're here" but they just met. most of the cards are reversed, except for the 10 of cups. they might think he is not focused on the right things, that he is too defensive and closed off to others, he has a fiery aura, like it's dangerous for others to come near - this person will feel safe with him, but they'll know that others usually feel intimidated. he is too focused on material things and don't enjoy life and the natural, easy things, he doesn't know simple happiness.

#kpop tarot #celebrity tarot reading #celebrity readings #free tarot #kpop readings #bts #bts tarot #bts v #taehyung

35 notes · View notes

mantisgodsdomain · 3 months

Text

Once again we return to Old Faithful Format (discord conversation transfer so we don't have to write things out in a post in a more coherent manner). This time about Scarlet. Transcript below cut.

Mantis God: Problems on purpose!!! Problems on purpose!!! Mildly off topic but we think Scarlet's the kind of guy where, like. He'll say or do Literally Anything if he thinks that it'll benefit him or get him out of a situation and it'll absolutely bite him in the ass if he hangs around somewhere for too long because that setup means he's absolutely willing to, like. Flip sides on a whim and eternally denounce something he was singing the praises of five minutes ago if he thinks it'll get him somewhere

Lavender: Yeahhh He's such a guy

Mantis God: He's a good actor but he's the sort of chameleon that personalizes his persona to whoever he's dealing with and it gets really obvious if he ever gets put in a situation where he has to juggle conflicting personas Guy of all time tbh we love him very much

Lavender: Yeeeee If I ever write him I'm sure I'll have a grand time In a similar vein to how I'm writing Hunter rn like "would he fucking say that?? no. no surely not. …but maybe???"

Mantis God: Scarlet is so fun to write But admittedly we're biased He's great because he has. Literally seven lines of dialogue total in the game and he chameleons enough in those seven lines that as long as you get the right cadence he'll, like. Always scan correctly.

Lavender: Whereas Hunter has probably more samples of his character voice than probably any other character in Hollowed Aight and we get plenty of his perspective on prey but no examples of him talking TO prey so I'm struggling

Mantis God: Antisocial

Lavender: I feel like I'm making him sound too much like a stereotypical villain

Mantis God: Tilt him around a bit rewrite the scene We suggest trying, like. Write it bad then go over it and see where it comes apart Then do it again better

Lavender: Probably a good idea

Mantis God: …it's how we pull like half of our fic & scenarios fhdkfjdf We're very good at figuring out where failure points are and we then just try and avoid them in our own work He's great because he has. Literally seven lines of dialogue total in the game and he chameleons enough in those seven lines that as long as you get the right cadence he'll, like. Always scan correctly.

Mantis God: We've seen some really badass and skilled and, like. Actually Malicious And Predatory Scarlets out there but honestly that doesn't scan super well to us specifically if only because, like. Scarlet has VERY little in means of motivation for killing people, so if you don't fill that gap he'll feel flat, and a lot of people who do Genuinely Malicious Scarlet don't… do that? He's not killing people for a reason, per se, he's just, like, a Semi-Generic serial killer dude, and generally if they go into him needing to gather life force it's more treated as, like. Stores? He's got a decent supply and just kills to supplement that or, like, save up, without really going into anything like "what happens when he runs out" we are ofc superior in this regard because we like cornering him like an animal

Lavender: Make him quite literally fight for his got damb life

Mantis God: But, uhh, the general cadence usually swings more towards confidence and security in his skills, giving him that aura of, like. Distinct Power, if that makes sense? Same set of tools that often get used for people like the Wasp King. A power fantasy sort of cadence. He's in charge and he knows it and he could beat your ass And though that's all well and good, we like to tinker more with… resourcefulness, we suppose? He's smart and strong and cunning, because he kind of needs to be to keep himself out of range of the cops for that long, but we don't tend to have that… security? We mean, the guy lives in a cave with no worldly possessions but the clothes on his back and One (1) book. He doesn't exactly have a safety net to… allow for that sort of confidence?

Lavender: Lmao yeah He's sure good a Faking Everything though !

Mantis God: He's REALLY good at faking everything, and it fools the audience as well. But he's still, uhh. He's living in a cave and hiding behind a stick. Not really the finest of accommodations and definitely not the sort of thing that gives that self-assurance. It's a persona, almost definitely, and the way he turns on a dime from faux-nice to faux-confidence kind of just… hammers that in?

Lavender: He's a guy with nothing to lose! Except his life. And he would really quite like to keep that please and thank you- And freedom I suppose

Mantis God: Though the actually confident and self-assured Scarlets are fun to toy with having to scavenge to survive and live paycheck-to-paycheck can have some VERY long-lasting effects on your brain especially when it comes to, like, budgeting resources and such, and a lot of the depictions here act like… a guy who has fallbacks? And he doesn't, really. It's plan A or nothing because if he's caught, he's done for.

Lavender: Hhhh yep

Mantis God: Something something class gap or whatever we're very conscious of this because we have eight hundred thousand hours research looking into shit and as it turns out your circumstances impact your mindset and you will act differently depending on external positions Unfortunately it's also really hard to articulate this without either Eight Trillion Words or saying shit like "he acts like someone with a house and a refrigerator but he has neither of those things"

Lavender: The latter does articulate it very well Note that I am reading all this in fascination and also agreement I just don't know how to express that much

Mantis God: Scarlet's an incredibly fun character to handle because he's got that specific set of circumstances where changing things even a bit can dramatically change his circumstances but the people writing him do him very, uhh. Middle-class? Which strikes as off to us, because a lot of what draws us to Scarlet is the fact that he very much has the motivation to lie and cheat and do anything he damn well can to end up on top, because pretty much anything he tries is gonna wind up being a zero-sum game.

Lavender: He comes pre-packaged with Circumstances and you can Do Things to these circumstances to see how be reacts

Mantis God: It just feels a bit… more dull, we suppose? To make him someone who can simply stop and chooses not to, because if you play him as, like, someone who could simply Not Do That at any time and is just evil for fun, then it feels like you lose a bit of something.

Lavender: Yeah, makes him more two-dimensional …..in a metaphorical sense of course One-dimensional

Mantis God: You've got a character here who could be brought to care for someone so deeply it hurts and still have to leave them behind and betray them because his very life depends on his capacity to stab people in the back for the sake of his own skin

Lavender: Ah yes, the Painge

Mantis God: Selfish means very different things if you have Something compared to having Nothing, is what we're saying. And Scarlet's very, very selfish, but in the very specific way that you get when you grow up having few enough resources to need to hoard.

Lavender: No yeah exactly Not for fun, debatably for profit, mostly just for survival

Mantis God: We know he's got like no canonical motivation besides "he kills people" but given canon evidence there's only like two possibilities for the Reason for that because unlike almost everyone else who Kills People he has no special cause or conviction or even, like, firm code of conduct, he just goes for. Literally anyone who answers his requests. Either he's Like That For No Reason or he's doing the exact same thing any other hungry ambush predator does and honestly the second one is far more interesting

Lavender: Love to give him motivations and depth!! Take this paper binch and make his actions comprehensible!!

Mantis God: We are holding him like a purse dog and making him grapple with horrors

Lavender: It is far more interesting than just another villain who exists for you to fight and get rewarded for it put him through the horrors

Mantis God: MORE horrors He's very fun to tinker with bc like all of his motivation can be boiled down to the same handful of Needs Of Life you see on, like, those goddamn basic needs pyramids And as such we can put him in basically any situation ever because he'll do fucking to slightly extend his life

#we speak #bug fables #youve seen the format before. you know the drill.

10 notes · View notes

reasonandempathy · 2 months

Note

This is a rambling thought so apologies in advance if it starts a shitkicking war in the notes.

Do you think ine of the reasons that more left leaning people tend to be less favourable on gun rights is because of the core of where the rights come from, in principle?

Like... healthcare, abortion, housing, etc. All (at least to me) boil down to bodily autonomy. Without the right to bodily autonomy you lose rights to these things, and you can't have tru autonomy without those things.

But guns... that's not true. Yes you CAN use guns to defend yourself, but you don't have to.

Like, in my head, the right to bear arms is kind of like if you insisted on the right to a 3 bedroom single family home. It's too specific. A right to shelter might include 3 bedroom homes, but doesn't guarantee it. Same thing with guns.

Does that make any sense?

TLDR; You're missing some aspects, but you're mis-identifying "left-wing" and "liberal".

_____________________________________________

It makes sense, and I can se the logic, but there are 2 things to consider.

"You go far enough Left and you get your guns back."

The people most consistently anti-gun are left-leaning Liberals. When you start getting to pro-gun leftist you're starting to approach people who are leftist even on the international stage. Not all leftists are pro-guns, but the belief in/respect for gun ownership starts increasing.

2. What you're saying makes sense, but you're touching on a few different things.

2a. the difference in the specificity largely comes from the promise of "guns = physical safety." We are going to sidestep the assholes who say that disingenuously for now. If you are a liberal and in the US and you fully believe in the inherent Goodness of the people, the systems, etc. then you are more likely to view guns as unnecessary for individual safety because you have Police, and the Rule of Law, etc. supporting your safety, and if there's ever a systemic need for you to fight then surely it'll be a draft or something, which isn't in the conversation.

Obviously, if you lose faith in the systems, or view the systems as inherently corrupt, bigoted, etc. you lose faith in the theoretical equal protections offered. It doesn't fully mean if you don't believe in the cops you'll go get an long rifle, but you're certainly less resistant to the idea.

2b. A lot of the left-wing or Liberal gun control measures tend to not be about principles but about practicality. So the Bodily Autonomy thing doesn't particularly factor into it.

For example:

It is, objectively, a fact that people with domestic abuse records are massively more likely to enact violence (and hence gun violence) on people around them, so it becomes a balancing act between that person's right to a gun (and what that means/is valued) vs. the foreseeable outcome that they're going to escalate their violent behavior to shoot somebody.

You'll see this in a lot of the rebuttals of right-wing gun framing, where the theoretical value of the gun isn't dismissed, but rather debunked in how people use it.

"You don't need it for safety"/"you're in more danger if you have a gun"

or when gun advocates/republicans say "the 2nd amendment protects the others" the response (rightly) is "When have you ever cared about the others?"

2c (bonus). Right-wing gun ownership has been celebrated in the US for decades now, and left-wing gun ownership has been the cause for entire political movements to be repressed, jailed, and killed/fire-bombed in the US. Part of the discrepancy you're observing is the natural result of Leftisists with Guns being called Terrorists and Right-Wingers with Guns being called Patriots.

#gun rights #gun control #left-wing #right-wing #politics #rights #original content #blm #black panthers

4 notes · View notes

disco-elysium-via-polls · 10 days

Text

🎵 Church

Turns out the thought that helps open doors is One More Door and not Jamrock Shuffle, so...

JAMROCK SHUFFLE >> COP OF THE APOCALYPSE

3. "I lost my memory, too, but I like it. It's like I get to create a whole new me, start again from scratch."

TIAGO - "That's not really the point, ese." He frowns. "You gotta give yourself over to service... Service of the Mother, that is..."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Do you remember your name, sir?"

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant is not particularly interested in this information. He's just trying to assert some control over the conversation.

TIAGO - "Tiago is my name. But those syllables don't mean much to me these days. A name isn't just your identity, but also, so to speak..."

+5 XP

"...your place among your fellows, your place in the world. I ain't got no use for such a place anymore."

"My name's Harry." (Extend your hand for a greeting.)

"My name sets me apart from my fellows. How often do you meet a Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau?"

"My name's Harrier Du Bois, and my place in the world is lieutenant double-yefreitor."

"I don't do names either. Names are *out*. I don't care what mine is."

TIAGO - "That's just the thing, homes -- none of that *matters*..." He sounds melancholy saying this, his limbs a mere shadow below the ceiling.

"What are you doing here?"

TIAGO - "This is a special place. There's a perforation in the world up there. A way out, into nothingness." He nods toward the ceiling. "This church was built around it, for purposes of veneration."

"I circle it, nurtured by the silence bestowed by the Mother. One of these days, I'll be pure enough to go drink from it directly."

"This Mother of Silence -- you mean *her*?" (Point to the window.)

"What will happen once you drink from this 'perforation'?"

"I still don't understand what you're doing in the church."

"Right. I had other questions..."

TIAGO - "No, no, no, there's a *new* god in town. And she can't be painted or sculpted, because she has no limbs or even a face. She is the end."

"She is a cavity, in the dark, beyond sense. She saved me... but I couldn't describe her to you. No one can, homes, and no one ever will."

2. "What will happen once you drink from this 'perforation'?"

TIAGO - "I will be incinerated, but not destroyed -- finally at one with the state of the world before reality began."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - That sounds a *bit* like substitution behaviour, no? You know a thing or two about that...

"You sure you didn't just switch one drug for another?"

+1 Narcomania

TIAGO - "It's not like that at all, man. It's just faith and joyful service."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - Too gleeful, those words -- he is lying. Not to you -- to his very own self.

"Faith is a kind of drug."

"I guess you have a point." (Proceed.)

"Let's agree to disagree." (Proceed.)

"I was being insensitive. Sorry. Let's move on." (Proceed.)

TIAGO - "I've heard that before, wey." He shakes his head. "And I know I can't convince you on the spot. But think -- when's the last time you woke up from *silent communion* with a hangover, regretting what you did last night?"

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - There are drugs darker than alcohol circling your system.

2. "I think love might have been my drug of choice. And I think I'm still hungover from it."

TIAGO - "She took you for a good spin, huh?" He looks at you gravely. "Don't worry, bro, that love is but a drop compared to the ocean of the Mother's love..."

"...the Mother will eat all of you, and never spit you out."

4. "Let's agree to disagree." (Proceed.)

TIAGO - "I know it'll take time. Don't sweat it."

4. "I still don't understand what you're doing in the church."

TIAGO - "I'm a saeraff, homes. I sing the Mother's glory."

"Can you sing for me? Sing for me something."

"It doesn't really make sense for you to sing if she's the Mother of *Silence*."

(Nod.) "Singing is good. I'm a bit of a singer myself."

TIAGO - "I ain't from no *marietti*, if that's what you're thinking. And the song I sing is silent as the Mother."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - "Marietti" is a Mesque style of music and dance commonly seen at all manner of festivities -- especially weddings. It's delightfully quaint, owing to its peasant origins.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He lost his cool there for a moment. Seems you hit some nerve.

5. "How did you even find this place -- this church?"

TIAGO - "Hard to say. I think I did some construction work here, back when I still had material worries. Up there, I realized what the true purpose of the church was..."

"Been spending a lot of time here ever since. The past is nothing to me now, wey. It didn't belong to me."

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - Hmh... does it mean he witnessed the police raid?

6. "Right. I had other questions…"

TIAGO - The sinewy figure lingers on the wooden beams, blending into the shadows.

"You've been here for a long time. Did you see the police raid that took place here?"

TIAGO - "Something like that," he responds, his voice suddenly flat.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Did you witness it?"

TIAGO - "Not really, or at least I don't remember much of it anymore. The Mother's Love has done its job... That's what's so great about the Mother -- it lets you forget about everything."

4. "Some ravers want to turn this place into a nightclub."

TIAGO - "The ones in the tent outside, right? I seen 'em. Guessing they're the ones who call me a crab? Probably scared of me..."

"Wait, do they have *reason* to be scared?"

"So, what do you think? About the nightclub, that is."

"I trust you won't get in the way of some enterprising youth? Their business looks promising."

"Turning a church into a nightclub -- I have to say it's a great idea. You should support it."

+1 Lawbringer

TIAGO - "Naw, man. They look pretty funny. And I don't harm no one anymore anyway."

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - Though he used to. A long time ago.

3. "I trust you won't get in the way of some enterprising youth? Their business looks promising."

+1 Ultraliberal

TIAGO - "Wouldn't bother me none to have 'em spin music in here. I'm usually way up there, imbibing."

"Might even be nice to have some company..."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He said that in spite of himself. He's more attached to the human than he'd like to think.

5. "Do you know where the other spooker is?" (Point at the strange machines around you.)

TIAGO - "Other spooker? Oh, esa viejita muy estudiosa!" He laughs. "Dunno, homes."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Viejita is... grandma?

"Wait, so there *is* another person living in the church -- and it's a *viejita*?"

"Right, thanks. I'll see if I can find her some other way…"

TIAGO - "No, I just call her 'viejita' because of her clothes, she's actually quite young..." He scratches his head. "Or maybe not *that* young... Age is just one of the many masks we wear."

"And you don't know where she is?"

TIAGO - "That's what I said, homes."

"How can you not know that when you both live here?"

TIAGO - "Don't really follow her comings and goings. Just see her typing on her computer now and then. We've got different interests."

"So you've got nothing else to tell me? How she looks, what she does, who *is* she?"

TIAGO - "I'm afraid not, ese. You just have to wait until she comes back or..." He shrugs.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Or search through her radiocomputer.

"Have you by any chance heard the *viejita* say the password to her radiocomputer?"

TIAGO - "Too many times, ese. You need it for something?"

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - *Sssurveys* are a good way to fish for personal information, especially in the name of public sssafety...

"I'm doing a survey of passwords and passcodes, identifying regional trends. In the interests of public safety, of course."

"Just tell me what's the password." (Step closer.)

"Yes, it's for a first-degree murder investigation in Martinaise."

"Honestly I just want to break into a radiocomputer, see what's on it."

TIAGO - "Don't sweat it, vato. The password is 'AFTER LIFE DEATH.'"

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - That is true. But what comes after death?

TIAGO - "What'd you think of that? Makes me almost pity *la nihilista pequeña* when I hear it."

8. "Okay then, thanks." [Leave.]

TIAGO - "I think we're done here, ese." The figure crawls off into the darkness above.

+5 XP

KIM KITSURAGI - "That was... an interesting conversation."

"However, I'm still not sure how it's relevant to our investigation."

A prayer book has been left open.

Frost has drawn flowers on the glass, obscuring the view.

A figure drawn in frost on the window, depicting a deer.

MESQUE BANGER'S SILK SCARF

+1 Pain Threshold: Bangers don't cry

This huge red scarf is still dusty from lying in the church. A subtle red-on-red embroidery embellishes it with cocky roosters and Mesque floral motives.

A cracked pane of glass, colourful.

It came from the stained glass pane window. Still has letters on it, too...

A spider has spun its web around this wood-carved pillar.

MESQUE BANGER'S RED BROGUES

+1 Empathy: In someone else's shoes

These dapper snakeskin shoes have an almost invisible white-on-white flower motive sewn on the tongue. The toe caps are still dusty from lying in the church.

Well...

STAINED GLASS WINDOW - The mother of humanism stands above you -- a precious and complex wax painting on a single pane of glass. A crack runs across the length of her body, her face oval and sad.

2. [Visual Calculus - Challenging 12] Reconstruct the cracked glass.

+1 Saw missing shard with letters

VISUAL CALCULUS [Challenging: Success] - A jigsaw of broken shards falls into place in front of you: a ghostly reconstruction of the stained glass window. Before it was shattered there was an older woman beneath the younger one -- and a text, a *leitmotiv* below them both.

What shattered this mosaic?

Who is this older woman?

The motto? What does it say?

Step back.

VISUAL CALCULUS - Unknown.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Something during the raid the lieutenant mentioned? Or just hooligans looking for something to break.

2. Who is this older woman?

VISUAL CALCULUS - The escutcheon on her throne says: Irene the Navigator. She is depicted as an older woman wearing thick rimmed eye-glasses, holding a golden *reichsapfel* in one hand and a scepter in the other. This is the queen Her Innocence Dei advised -- above, she herself is whole.

Small figures of wise men, common men, worshippers walk up the stairs to stand at her feet. Secret servicemen -- Therriers -- stand in a row guarding her. It must have taken years to produce this work in all its dizzying detail.

3. The motto? What does it say?

VISUAL CALCULUS - Below both women, in luminous blackletter: APRÈS LA VIE - MORT; APRÈS LA MORT - LA VIE DE NOUVEAU.

And then along the left side: APRÈS LE MONDE - LE GRIS; APRÈS LE GRIS - LE MONDE DE NOUVEAU.

+5 XP

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - AFTER LIFE -- DEATH; AFTER DEATH -- LIFE AGAIN. AFTER THE WORLD -- THE PALE; AFTER THE PALE -- THE WORLD AGAIN. This is the great leitmotiv of humanism, a summary of the effect of the discovery of this isola -- the Insulindian -- on human thinking. A tremendous sea change akin to finding life after death...

4. "Lieutenant, this used to say: 'After life, death -- after'..."

KIM KITSURAGI - "...death, life again," he nods. "After the world, the pale; after the pale -- the world again."

"This exaltation is common in Dolorian sacralism. In the early years it was even incorporated as the RCM's slogan. No more, however."

"Why?"

"What is the motto now?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "It was deemed *subservient* to use a strongly Moralintern-related motto. We're already suspected of bootlicking. The sentence was also seen as... too feminine. It was a macho thing."

"What is the RCM motto now?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "'Justice, Union, Prudence, and Force'."

"Cool."

"Not very feminine."

"I like the other one better."

"I like this. Puts the fear of god back in the f****ts."

+1 Communism

KIM KITSURAGI - "So do I."

5. Step back.

STAINED GLASS WINDOW - The mother of humanism towers above you -- a wax painting on a cracked pane of glass. Nothing has changed in her expression.

Now, let's break in to a computer.

MAINFRAME - Machine's keyboard is still illuminated, revealing virescent PLAY and PRINT buttons.

2. Press PLAY again.

MAINFRAME - The speaker comes to life, static seeps through the machine's planar magnetic driver. An old lady greets you, her voice sounds a hundred years old...

EAST-INSULINDIAN REPEATER STATION - "Good morning, Fortress Accident on Saint-Brune, this is the East-Insulindian Repeater Station 1. Please repeat, is this the personal log?"

"Let's try this again. I think I may have the right password for the personal log."

EAST-INSULINDIAN REPEATER STATION - "Good. Please repeat the password."

"After life death."

EAST-INSULINDIAN REPEATER STATION - "Good, I've unlocked the filament. After ending the call please press PRINT to access the filament."

+5 XP

"Fortress Accident, is there anything else I can do for you today?"

3. "Thanks, but I'm finished with this call." (Press OFF/SILENT.)

EAST-INSULINDIAN REPEATER STATION - "Good bye, Fortress Accident," she says as her voice disappears into a whirl of static.

MAINFRAME - The machine's keyboard is still illuminated, revealing virescent PLAY and PRINT buttons.

3. Press PRINT.

MAINFRAME - The printer prints out a long text document with dated paragraphs. It looks a bit like someone's journal.

4. Read the printout.

MAINFRAME - The first entry, made on the 4th February '51 by an unknown author, is short and concise:

"Arrived at the church. The door was boarded up, so I used a crowbar to get inside. Looks like the place has been deserted. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I'll ask around. Need to figure out how to get the electricity in."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant leans closer, scouring the printout over your shoulder. Just as you finish reading he looks up, muttering under his breath:

"Fourth of February? That's over a month ago… Whoever set up those machines has been here for quite a while."

"Do you think this log might be connected to the case?"

Read the second entry.

Let go of the printout.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Our case? No, I don't think so. It must be some local..." his eyes wander to the various machines around him, "*eccentric*."

2. Read the second entry.

MAINFRAME - "6th FEB, '51: Had a little chat with the local fishermen. Said I shouldn't go near that place, that the church was *spooky* and ridden with *narcotics*. It's a little spooky, alright. Still haven't figured out the electricity."

HALF LIGHT [Easy: Success] - See? Even one of the spookers themselves says it's unnerving.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - What was that about narcotics? This could prove to be interesting.

"Wait, *narcotics*?" (Look around the derelict building.)

Read the third entry.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I doubt that we can find any. It's just idle fishermen's gossip to scare away the kids." He looks at the stained glass window.

"Nothing *spooky* about this place either, it's just abandoned. And cold. And in an awful part of town..."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - Then why doth the lieutenant protest against spending time here? So often?

Read the third entry.

MAINFRAME - "7th FEB, '51: Finally got the electricity in! Next on the agenda: a new antenna. I'm thinking ESKER series? Something advanced."

"Why would she need an antenna?"

Read the fourth entry.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Why would anyone need *any* of this equipment here?" He steps on a wire running on the ground, inspecting it with his boot.

Read the fourth entry.

MAINFRAME - "8th FEB, '51: Bought the antenna, had some problems setting it up, called Simo for help. Heard the others are back to *making art* (drinking somewhere out of town). Sulisław started a rock band again, Lexie has been seen asking money from strangers..."

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - Artists, yet again!! Harassing citizens, stealing badges, 'occupying' public spaces with 'installations' like the one here...

MAINFRAME - "But at least the artists have their act together -- they're qualified labour, they can get work anywhere: graphic design, ads. The programmers are doing fine too, I mean, they're programmers. The writers, though... they're fucked."

"I just have to find out what caused that data loss and be done with it. Still don't understand how it managed to wipe out the backup when the backup *wasn't even connected to the front*. I know, I know... everyone thinks it's impossible; they say I must be lying. I'm here to set it right."

"A data loss?"

"Artists, programmers, *Lexie* -- who are all those people?"

Read the fifth entry.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Seems like something to do with radiocomputers -- unfortunately, I don't know enough about them to understand what the author is saying."

"Something about the backup data getting destroyed… and how everyone thought it was the author's fault." He adjusts his glasses. "Let's just keep reading."

2. "Artists, programmers, *Lexie* -- who are all those people?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Her friends, colleagues?" He shrugs. "She must be quite educated if she knew how to set up all this machinery."

3. Read the fifth entry.

MAINFRAME - "12th FEB, '51: Brought some food from the grocery store. Apparently there's a strike going on in the harbour. Definitely not happy to see the Martinaise people again. Everything's now set up in the church, going to start working tomorrow 8 AM."

KIM KITSURAGI - "The strike..." He strokes his chin. "We're nearing the date of the murder."

"Keep reading, I'm interested now -- I want to know what's that radio anomaly that sent this person here in the first place."

Read the sixth entry.

MAINFRAME - "25th FEB, '51: I've been sending data up to Lintel for a while now, trying to recreate the data loss, but nothing. Didn't even feel like logging in the disappointment. But I did discover a curious *audio-spatial* anomaly at the back of the church. I've named it *the swallow*. (It swallows sound.) Need to get some mics."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Is she talking about...?" The lieutenant looks to his right, toward the silence.

Read the seventh entry.

MAINFRAME - "28th FEB, '51: Yes, the first recordings confirm that the swallow is real and I'm not just losing my mind. It's a pillar of silence with a diameter of approximately three meters. Seems like the higher I go, the less I record. This might be a coincidence. Or it *could* be connected to the data loss that led me here."

KIM KITSURAGI - "The pillar of silence! She *is* talking about the silence... Is she suggesting it's more than just an architectural quirk?"

"But what could it be?" (Look at the water basins behind you.)

Read the eighth entry.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant doesn't answer. He follows your gaze, studying the basins. The water shines in them. No ripples.

2. Read the eighth entry.

MAINFRAME - "MARCH, '51: Some kind of young *discomen* have appeared next to the church. I've been trying to record the silence to find the epicentre, but now it turns out I've also been capturing the future of dance music, one neo-disco song over and over again..."

"Fortunately, the song is so monotonous I was able to devise an algorithm to factor it out. The other day one of the discomen came in. Before I could even say hello, she got scared and left. Good, I don't want anyone distracting me from my work."

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - That discoman? Must be Acele.

"She must be describing Acele."

Read the ninth entry.

KIM KITSURAGI - "The girl on the ice? Sounds like her, yes."

Read the ninth entry.

MAINFRAME - "MARCH '51: A new 2m AUX cable, noodles, crackers, Ping-Ping energy drinks, water, TOOTHPASTE, gum, also some canned air..."

PERCEPTION [Easy: Success] - Your reading is interrupted by the sound of the church door opening.

SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - A strange woman makes straight for the radiocomputer.

"Breaking into my radiocomputer, I see." She glares at you as she holds down the OFF button for several seconds. The machine reboots.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - Yes, you *are* breaking in. But not into *her* radiocomputer. You're a master circuit-bender.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I do apologize for the intrusion, madam. We're with the RCM, you see."

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois #tiago #yvonne #soona the programmer

6 notes · View notes