#Unsigned of the Month

[thisdayinmetal]

Unsigned of the Month - Rupskallex

Unsigned of the Month – Rupskallex

A one-man DIY band from Northern Ireland with a reoccurring theme of sci-fi, space battles and heavy riffs. A genre-crossing blend of thrash, melodic death, black metal, prog, NWOBHM and hints of folk, each release tells part of a storyline with the latest EP ‘Mechanised Infantry‘ released in May 2022 and a new full length album coming later this year. Rupskallex says about their storyline:…

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#Black metal #Brutal Death Metal #Folk Metal #Heavy Metal #Melodic Death Metal #NWOBHM #Prog Metal #Rupskallex #Sci-Fi #This Day In Metal #thrash metal #Unsigned of the Month

[the-travelling-witch]

hello miss witch, i have a question for you if you don't mind c:

i've read about that sweet ask left by the snowflake anon and then the compliments (?) from another anon about that work with scara ending up late because of morning kisses and cuddles

this actually had me wondering how would the anemo boys react to a sudden sneak attack consisting in kisses all over their faces, no spot/inch left untouched

if you need an example, this one: aether is minding his own business, maybe sketching a new tattoo idea, or drawing for fun, or doing whatever maybe while sitting, and his sweet lil partner comes behind him, engulfing him in a warm hug before leaving numerous (very numerous, almost too many one could say) kisses and smooches all over his face, so many that no inch is left untouched: cheeks, cheekbones, eyes, forehead, temples, nose, lips as the final touch, before stopping satisfied and go back to whatever this partner was doing before this sudden love shower, their lover boy probably short circuited by this

no need to answer at all or for all the boys if you don't feel like it, it was just a curiosity that came to mind c:

have a nice day, miss witch

hi there, i never mind asks about the modern au, i just might not answer requests for drabbles immediately bc i need to be in the right mood to write more than a few paragraphs for a specific scenario :>

i won’t write for all of them bc i have a lot of requests for the modern au (and that’s considering i don’t actually take requests) but modern! aether needs more love <3

warning: a little suggestive at the end (or you could just get your mind out of the gutter hshsh)

holly's modern au masterlist || holly’s modern au tag

Aether’s sketchbook lay discarded on the coffee table, having to make room for you to scoot into the place it previously occupied. With his hands now free to hold you, you could easily rest your head on your boyfriend’s slowly rising and falling chest.

Catching up on a show you were watching together, your hands were tangled in the ends of Aether’s long hair, the blond strands soft but still showing some of the colour that had washed out over time. 

When the show hit a bit of a sag in tension and nothing really happened to move the plot further, your gaze landed on the empty mugs in front of you and you untangled your legs from Aether’s to push yourself up.

But your decision to grab new drinks was delayed as you glanced down at your boyfriend underneath you, looking ethereal with his golden hair splayed around him like a molten halo, his bright eyes focusing on you at your movement.

“Hm, what are you-“

His breath hitched as you leant down to plant a soft kiss against his temple, his skin warm and smooth against your lips. Not able to resist, you trailed more kisses over his temple, all over his cheeks dimpling with his smile, his melodic giggles floating through your living room until you reached the corner of his mouth.

You attacked his nose next, simultaneously pushing the loose strands of his hair behind his ear with the hand not used to support yourself, just so you could flutter a swarm of butterfly kisses over his pierced ears.

The skin underneath the pad of your thumb grew steadily hotter as you caressed the arch of his cheekbone, your lips busy mapping out the path from behind his ears, over his jaw and down his throat. 

By now his heart beat was thumping faster against your chest than before and you know Aether was trying to control his breathing, only to be betrayed by his own shaky exhale. He swallowed hard as you lingered over the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder, before continuing south as far as the collar of his shirt would let you.

As you sat up on your knees between his legs, you studied your boyfriend’s flushed face, seeing how his brain tried to catch up to what happened just now, his fingers twitching without his arms complying to bring them any closer to you.

“I’m getting up to get new drinks, of course,” you cheekily answered his previous question, moving to unfold your legs from underneath yourself and slinging them over the edge of the couch. 

Aether mumbled something under his breath as you stood up and you urged him to repeat himself, louder this time. There was more clarity in his eyes when you looked back at him, subconsciously licking his lips.

“I said, didn’t you forget somewhere?” The question was airy in the delicate atmosphere, as if any more force could shatter the bubble you found yourself in, where only him and you existed.

Pretending to contemplate for a moment, you agreed with a grin but didn’t bend down over his mouth. Instead you quickly lifted the hem of his shirt and your lips made contact with the cool metal of his belly button piercing, giving it more attention than the others before. With your hand splayed on his warm stomach, you could feel the sharp intake of air under your colder fingertips and you followed his skin relentlessly before letting up with a smirk.

Satisfied with the state you left your boyfriend in, you turned towards the kitchen to actually fetch new drinks but the action left Aether outside your field of vision. 

So, when his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, a surprised gasp left your lips and you were quickly spun back towards your couch and flipped over to have your back meet the couch cushions.

Perhaps with your boyfriend now hovering over you and his blond hair tickling the side of your face, it was a good moment to remember how unassumingly agile he was.

There was a competitive sparkle in his eyes as a grin playfully curled around his lips and you closed your eyes when he leant down to mirror your actions. But instead of starting from your temple like you did, the featherlight touch of his soft lips against your earlobe sent a shiver down your spine as he whispered to you.

“It’s my turn now, beautiful.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

genshin impact: @mccnstruck @teyvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm @kazuuhhaaaa @inufinuf @ynverse @nico707 @boba-is-a-soup @hellithides @ryuryuryuyurboat

modern au: @r0ttenhearts @bananasquash @hoshiwitch

#┊✩彡 divine correspondence ♡ #┊✩彡 unsigned letter ♡ #┊holly’s modern au ✩彡 #answering asks after two months? holly approves #genshin impact #x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #aether fluff #aether x reader #genshin impact aether #genshin modern au

[hcguesstheauthormessageboard]

Platonic Love to all fellow BIPOC! You got this!

.

#unsigned post #thanks for this!! #yknow;;; it is AAPI month;;; #love to everyone out there! stay safe have fun and stay swag B)

[newleasemusic]

*TOP RELEASES OF THE MONTH *

.

#MusicVideo: Come & Go - @krizmusic

.

#Album: Until We Meet Again - @syberspace (song: Summer of ‘93)

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#Song: Before Goodbyes - @kaitlynevemusic

#music #indie music #hip-hop #unsigned music #usa #indie artist #unsigned artist #singer songwriter #neo soul #canada #song of the month #album of the month #music video of the month #Instagram

[teatreeoilll]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . •

w/c - 1.2k content - fem!reader, hurt/comfort??, ain't nobody really gonna divorce this man i mean, please

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .•

For the past two months, once every two weeks on Thursday afternoons, Higuruma Hiromi finds himself on a leather chair in the stifling offices of Hayashi Divorce Law. Hayashi himself is a walrus-looking man with nicotine-stained fingers and an expensive wristwatch, who leans back in his chair across the desk from Hiromi, unbuttons the top button of his Italian blazer, and eyes him with a grin that says “I’ll clean you out before you can finish saying divorce.”

The worst of it comes when you enter the room. You sit down by Hayashi, getting trapped by the scent of the walrus’s sour cologne and stacks of papers on the desk, without so much as a glance in Hiromi’s direction.

Hiromi’s throat dries up the more he sits and nods along to Hayashi’s words. He doesn’t remember much about equitable distribution from law school and he doesn’t care to - the only thing he does is tug on the wrinkled fabric of his suit and mutter variations of “Alright” and “You can have it”.

After the first meeting was over, and you left the room leaving nothing but a whiff of perfume that soon dissipated into nothing, Hayashi turned to him and furrowed his bushy brows “Didn’t your ex-wife say you’re a lawyer, Mr. Higuruma?”

To which Hiromi replied “My wife,” while clinging to the last unsigned papers that would make this statement false.

By the fourth meeting, he’s a wreck. While he sits and nods along, Hiromi notices you’re looking at him with a hint of concern in your eyes. As you open your mouth his mind fills with hope. He’d drop to his knees without a second thought for a “It’s a mistake” or just a simple “let's go home” - even though it’s your home now since he’d forfeited it a month ago.

But when you finally open your mouth, after two months of silence, the only words he hears are “What about the car?”

Hiromi looks up at you. The car. A navy blue Ford Sedan with it’s best years behind it much like himself. A Ford Sedan which only four years prior got its old wheels stuck in the wet sand of a Kanazawa beach, causing the both of you to stay the night in a nearby motel.

He remembered the motel room's crumbling ceiling and the scale models of ships that lined the shelves - below them a bed with azure sheets - which you collapsed on with a grumble, cursing out both the damn Sedan and its fucking wheels. All he could think of was how beautiful you looked with that shade of azure surrounding your skin - and by morning you’d called out his name so many times he forgot it had a meaning outside of your lips.

He’s silent for a long time. So long your confidence wavers a bit, “We can sell it,” you say, “take half of the money each.”

Hiromi awakes from his mind trip to Kanazawa and reality knocks the wind out of his lungs. “You can have it.”

“I mean it,” you shoot a look at Hayashi who looks displeased with the sudden display of kindness, “we can sell it and split the money.”

“You can have it.” Higuruma says, and Hayashi grins.

It’s already dark by the time Hiromi steps out in the hall. It takes him a few steps towards the elevator and a squint of his tired eyes to see you standing by it. It’s alright - he’ll just take the stairs.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him when he passes behind you. You press on the elevator button again. It’s been stuck on the 17th floor for a while now.

“It’s alright.” He assures, continuing his path to the stairwell.

“No. It’s not alright. Nothing’s been alright for a year now. Now wait here for the goddamn elevator.”

By the tone of your voice he knows he hasn’t got a choice. He takes his place next to you, shifting his gaze between the silver elevator doors, and the little screen that keeps showing “17” without any sign of movement.

A few minutes go by and there’s still no sign of the elevator. Your leg bounces on the marble floor and your lips purse before you let out a silent “What’s wrong with you?”

“Huh?” Hiromi blinks. The elevator doors ding open. The man and a woman inside move to make room for you, but you motion to them to go down, mouthing ‘we’ll take the next one’. The elevator closes.

“I said ‘what’s wrong with you.’” You turn to him. “I’m robbing you blind and you don’t say anything. So what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“You can have anything you want.” He says, noticing you haven’t pressed the button to call the elevator again.

“That’s not what I asked -”

“You can have anything you want,” He repeats. “Just don’t make me come and listen to which bits of our life you’d like to sell and which to split. Take what you like, really - Whatever’s left will remind me of you anyway and I don’t think I’ll be able to stand looking at it without -” Going insane, he wants to say, but when he sneaks a look at your face he swallows the words. The crease he got used to seeing between your eyebrows vanishes.

“I’m not making you come, you know.” You say, “If you signed it all away after the first meeting we wouldn’t have to go through this.”

He can’t make himself tear his gaze off of your face, “I know.” His fingers press down on the fabric of his suit, “But if I did that I wouldn’t have a reason to see you again.”

“Don’t say things like that.” You press the elevator button again. This time, it arrives in a flash. You step inside, and Hiromi follows. The doors slip shut.

“Then don’t divorce me.”

The floor numbers change, a rapid countdown - 12 - 11 - 10. Hiromi’s mind races. He really pushed it this time - and even though he doesn’t have anything left to lose - his heart plummets together with the elevator.

“Fine.”

“Huh?” Hiromi’s eyes stick to the numbers still, 10 - 9 - 8. He’s not sure if it’s an auditory hallucination that’s speaking.

“I said ‘fine.’”

His hand finds the emergency stop button and smashes it in. The elevator rattles before it halts.

“Did you say -”

“I won’t repeat it again.”

And you really don’t need to. A moment later you’re pressed between his warm body and the cool metal lining the elevator car. His kiss is a desperate one - open-mouthed, all teeth and tongue - with his hands running under your blouse to relish in the warmth of your skin. You tangle one hand in his hair while the other’s clinging to a fistful of his suit jacket.

Hiromi detaches from your mouth, only for a second - which is enough for you to catch a glimpse of his flushed face - before leaving a trail of gentle kisses down your neck. Unlike his lips, his hands aren’t gentle in the slightest, they hold a tight grip on your waist under your blouse - as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear the moment he releases it.

Hayashi stands by the elevator, looking at the screen that shows “7” without any sign of movement. His face grows tomato red. Two interns stand at the edge of the hall, looking at him.

“What’s he so pissed about it?” One asks.

“It’s the elevator.” The other motions to the number on the tiny screen, “If it’s stuck too long on one floor it means a couple’s doing it inside. If they’re doing it inside they’re not divorcing - and if they’re not divorcing Hayashi’s not getting paid.”

#higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x y/n #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x you #higuruma x you #higuruma x y/n #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #hiromi x you #hiromi x y/n #jjk hiromi x reader #jjk higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n

[valyrfia]

I’ve been thinking about it, and I now firmly believe that Charles signed a pre-contract with Red Bull in the week before COTA. Initially, he did it with the intent of putting pressure on Ferrari but then over the course of the triple header he slowly started to realise that maybe honouring that pre-contract MIGHT be his best chance at a WDC. This is heavily reflected in the socials and PR of Red Bull, Ferrari, and Charles himself and ties together all the Lestappen interactions of the past couple of months from Max’s answers at press conferences to the infamous padel date. Buckle up, because it’s going to be a ride.

So I believe to pinpoint the start of the current PR wave/movement that we've coined as Lestappen Gate 2023 we have to look all the way back to Monza. Around Monza, there were numerous rumours that a huge Charles contract renewal was imminent and it was going to be announced, etc. etc. Charles did put these rumours to bed by saying if there were a contract like the one that had been rumoured, he would've signed it immediately. Now, I believe that with Charles confirmed to be unsigned (at around the same time that the George/Lewis and Oscar renewals would've been happening), Red Bull Racing approached Charles to reopen talks.

But I think Charles stalls them, isn't open to talks, until Singapore where Carlos Sainz wins. This throws Ferrari into complete disarray as Fred suddenly can't open talks with Charles as it would then be clear that he will not be re-signing Carlos Sainz. I think it then becomes obvious to Charles and his team that in order for the contract talks to begin they need pressure to negate Santander and the Sainz family breathing down Ferrari's throat. So Charles actively enters talks with Red Bull with the intent of putting that pressure on Ferrari. Also worth noting, Singapore also marked Charles as something special, a generational talent who is also willing to be an exception n2 driver when the team requires it of him, especially when his teammate starts on pole. I think this makes Red Bull even more eager to begin talks with Charles. Interestingly, this is where we get the first Red Bull Lestappen post of this current era, the Lecstappen alert.

This brings us through Suzuka to Qatar, Max winning his 3rd WDC, Charles congratulating him and then effuse about Max and Red Bull in interviews. Seeing the level of success that Max has had is what pushes Charles to decide that he is going to sign a pre-contract with Red Bull for a seat in 2025 because either way, he wins. He either manages to put pressure on Ferrari to get a contract with all the clauses he wants (external brand deals, his own branding, car development to suit him, etc.) OR he gets the MOST talked about seat in F1.

Now this is a key point. I believe the padel date was an excuse to get Max and Charles in the same room. Specifically, for them to have a frank and honest chat about whether they could work as teammates and two n1 drivers on the same team. This is probably the first serious heart to heart that these two have had, which then explains their attitude and closeness in the triple header and them being more ready to be vulnerable and honest with and about each other. Then, in the week before COTA, satisfied that he could be teammates with Max if push came to shove, Charles Leclerc signs a pre-contract with RBR for 2025.

(It's also worth noticing that in the week before COTA, the Lando Norris to RBR rumours and talk noticeably died down, despite Oscar winning the sprint in Qatar).

Now this brings us to COTA, where Charles instantly starts to make PR moves to build a brand for himself. His first big move is signing with WME, a talent agency, and something that Ferrari drivers typically aren't allowed to do. The WME signing solidifies in my mind that a pre-contract exists, because if there is one thing Charles wouldn't do, it's jeopardise his chances of racing in F1. If there's a chance that Ferrari would drop him for this, he just wouldn't do it. However, if he has a guaranteed seat in 2025 no matter the outcome, he would totally do it. It must be said, I believe that Charles is using the pre-contract fully as leverage against Ferrari at this point UNTIL the strategy fuck up. After the strategy fuck up, Charles is noticeably angry and outspoken about it, and Fred starts to freak out a little bit. RBR in the mean time, are starting to try and change the Lestappen narrative from rivals to a duo, with Charles starting to feature heavily on RBR socials.

Moving on to Mexico, Charles does well, considering. But what's important about Mexico is that this is the first time that Charles has truly been treated like a villain by the fans at the track. This is key, not only because of RBR's reaction to it (which I will explore), but also because this is Charles's first taste of what a move to RBR could be like, of what it would feel like were he to become the antihero rather than the golden boy of F1. However, the real clincher is that rather than RBR playing into the narrative of Charles the villain, even despite him literally being involved in the DNF of their own driver (Checo) at his home race, they instead make sure to capture all angles of Charles and Max interacting and one of their own pays special attention to Charles on the podium. In a way, this is the weekend that shows Charles that even though Red Bull and Ferrari are completely different, Red Bull can still be as much of a family to him as Ferrari has been if he wants them to be. Moreso, in fact, considering Ferrari didn't even bother showing up to Charles's P3 podium.

So entering the weekend in Brazil, Charles is pictured wearing his own clothing line that it was rumoured Ferrari forced him to discontinue and Fred Vasseur is starting to get shit scared and starting to talk to anyone from media who will listen about how talented Charles is. Charles does put it on the front row, but there's no real Forza Ferrari about it, and Charles has stopped wearing Ferrari merch in the paddock. A Red Bull employee (Max's PT Brad) is the first person to congratulate Charles on the front row.

Then, the DNS happens. A completely avoidable thing that happened due to Ferrari incompetency, and all hell breaks loose. Charles leaves the paddock before he can finish his Ferrari PR duties like a post-race video, and makes it very clear that he is FURIOUS in all his interviews. Now, laughably, at this point is when Ferrari-Charles contract negations began, or at least, that's what was leaked to the media. In my mind, Charles communicated very clearly to Fred at this point that his pre-contract with Red Bull is a very real threat, and Charles himself is beginning to seriously consider honouring it, and if Ferraro don't get together, they WILL lose their Il Predestinato to Red Bull. At this moment, Fred Vasseur is absolutely terrified. The world is very obviously on Charles's side and sympathetic after the DNS, while being at best apathetic and at worst hostile toward the Scuderia. Meanwhile, Red Bull continue with their Lestappen antics across all social media channel, again publicising the idea that Max and Charles are close and may have once been rivals but are buddies now, like in their tiktok of Max doing the "just an inchident" trend.

Now I haven't mentioned the onboards yet, which were spotted by some eagle eyes fans during the Mexico and Brazil GP weekends, in which Charles's onboard was displayed very clearly alongside their actual drivers, Max and Checo. But the existence of the onboards on the Red Bull pitwall make perfect sense if Charles did sign a pre-contract. Red Bull are gathering data to sway Charles further, almsot a "yeah so here's exactly where Ferrari fucked your race, and here's is what we would've done differently."

The break in the triple header, Charles is noticeably refraining from Forza Ferrari-ing. Rather, he calls the paps on himself on more than one occasion and make sure he is seen with several high profile celebs, strengthening his public image and building his own narrative. Meanwhile, Ferrari is in full damage control mode, taking responsibility for the DNS, acknowledging Charles in a way they haven't fully done since Singapore. There are more leaks of contract negotiations, but Charles does not engage with them. Meanwhile, Red Bull are keeping up their Lestappen propaganda. Charles is making it clear to all parties that this pre-contract that he initially intended to just be a bargaining chip has suddenly become a serious threat to Ferrari.

Finally, this brings us to last weekend, Vegas. Charles, again, refuses to Forza Ferrari. Ferrari PR have put Charles and Red Bull content on absolute LOCKDOWN with not a HINT of Lestappen anywhere, and Max is making comments about the choice of team being important in winning even for generational talents while Charles fidgets and looks away. Fred praises Charles to hell and back again, implying that Charles will obviously be prioritised over Carlos by diminishing Singapore, but in the post-race, Charles still gives nothing. Just a thinly veiled comment about how good it feels to be fighting at the front again. Meanwhile, Red Bull amp up the Charles content even more, even fully posting a picture just of Charles's car. There are also not one, but two questions about Max and Charles's karting past. In discussion with my academic colleagues (@tsarinablogs, @thearchercore, @gaslightgirlsummer (further thanks for all three of them, for entertaining a much rougher draft of this essay a few days ago)), we've talked about the possibility that these questions might have themselves been planted in the media rooms, in order to further cement the idea and control the narrative of Charles and Max, childhood rivals turned dynamic duo. The sort of narrative one might find intriguing around teammates.

So this concludes my essay. I am almost sure that Charles has a pre-contract with Red Bull, which is why he is suddenly so outspoken about the problems and failings of Ferrari. Although this pre-contract originally began as a bargaining chip, I believe that Charles is seriously considering honouring it. Ferrari are desperate, and Red Bull have the upper hand and are starting to pave the way for a media shift in how Charles and Max as a pairing are perceived.

#and SCENE....this took me far too long to type up. would love to hear people's thoughts on this theory..... #lestappen gate 2023 #charles leclerc #formula 1 #lestappen #essays #lestappen rbr

[augiewrites]

"secret admirer" - dead poets society

summary: y/n receives yet another profession of love under their door—too bad the hallway is always empty when they open the door

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 591

i am back two years and one english degree later to write a fic that no one asked for! now that's what i call self care!

part two

Winter proved the student body of Welton wrong when they thought the school couldn't get any more dull. The cold can be cruel like that.

Just like the winter stripped the North of all life, Welton stripped it's students of all identity. In a place where boot licking is the norm and conformity is the goal—Y/N's only retreat was the 200 square foot box they called home for ten months of the year. The only place anyone in Welton was allowed to be themself.

That was exactly where Y/N and their roommate—Quinn—found themselves on a particularly cold Sunday morning.

Y/N sighed and looked from their homework over to Quinn, who had yet to get out of bed, "Do you know that guy that's like...scary good at latin? What's his name? Minks?"

"Hmm," Quinn hummed, wrapping the blanket closer to their body, "the ginger kid? Always hanging out with that tall dude?"

"Yeah, him," a pause and yet another sigh from Y/N, "I think I need a tutor if I want to keep an A this semester. I—"

Suddenly an envelope skidded under the door and across the floor. Rapid footsteps followed soon after and Y/N could hear a door slamming further down the wing.

Quinn rolled their eyes, "God. Not another one."

Y/N just shot them a look and picked up the envelope—one of many addressed to them and left unsigned.

"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer."

"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer mehmheh blah," Quinn mocked in a high tone, "Yeah. If they were for me, they'd be romantic. For you? Prepare to be murdered."

"Shut up."

Y/N opened the letter and dove in. Their heart was beating much faster than they would like to admit.

Lovely Y/N,

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

I couldn't help but think of you when Keating had us reciting Lord Byron's work last week. The sun was so bright for a dreary winter day, and the rays illuminating from the window painted an image of heaven around your silhouette. You looked so lovely, I could barely register Byron's words.

I would happily go toward the light if I knew you were waiting for me within it.

Sincerely,

Yours.

Y/N could feel Quinn's eyes on them as their cheeks burst into a rosy flame.

"He's in my English class."

Quinn gasped, "Finally! We have a lead!"

"Quinn, I really don't want to play detective on this...what if I think it's the wrong person and make a fool of myself? I think I would have to drop out. Die, even."

But Quinn kept rambling on, completely ignoring their roommate's apprehension, "it's too bad I'm not smart enough for AP English—I would for sure be able to catch that creep staring you down. You're so oblivious. He could be telling you all these things to your face and you would doubt that he's into you."

"I'm not that oblivious, Quinn."

"Oh, please," Quinn exclaimed, "you're so romantically challenged! This guy has been right under your nose and you don't have a single clue!"

Y/N scoffed and returned to their homework.

"Whatever you say, Quinn. We're just going to have to wait and see."

~~~

a/n: who could it possibly be?? 🤯

part two

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dps #dps boys #dps fanfiction #todd anderson #neil perry #steven meeks #gerard pitts #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #todd anderson x reader #neil perry x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #dps x reader

[midnight-on-pluto]

Hi. So this is my request.

Tenya Iida x reader where the readers parents kick them out because they want to be a hero and are in UA. Then they just show up at Tenyas door in the pouring rain to ask if they could sleep at his house for a night. And Tenya is just so 😠mad. Protective Tenya activated.

so sorry that this took me ages to get out! I had no motivation for months and am finally attending my drafts and rebranding lol! so here's the first of many to come ♡♡

warnings:  emotional abuse, reader is kicked out by their parents, self-deprecating and unhappy thoughts

SFW, fluff, angst but not really, mostly comfort.

I should have been a doctor, I thought. My clothes clung to my body, skin prickled with goosebumps as I collapsed onto the ground. The unsigned, now drenched, permission form was bunched in my fist, my nails digging into my skin. 

“Why would we sign this?” My mother’s voice was ringing through my mind as I recalled tonight’s events. “Just so you to go kill yourself for some dream?” 

“Stupid,” I scolded myself. The cold rain only picked up as I began to cry, choked sobs being drowned out by the pouring rain. 

“If you don’t want to give up on this silly dream then leave!” My father slammed his fist down on the table as he spoke. “I don’t want some mediocre hero claiming to be my child. Go play hero somewhere else.”

I took a deep breath, eyes shutting tightly to blink away my tears. “This is pathetic,” I said to nobody. My hands rubbed the tears off my face, replacing it with mud from the ground. 

I stood, legs tired. I didn’t even think to look at where I was going, just running as fast and far as I could. I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, the only light coming from the streetlights. I patted around, luckily smacking something hard and rectangular shaped, my phone. 

I pulled it out, 3% battery remaining. Quickly I pulled up my GPS, trying to see where I was and what the closest place to go was. I’d run close to UA, luckily. Perhaps I could see if anyone was still there, although unlikely. 

I tried looking around more, finding a familiar street name. Tenya’s street, I thought. Something inside me sank, dreading just showing up at his doorstep, soaking wet with tears and mud staining my cheeks. But it was the only place to go, and I trusted him more than anyone else in my class. 

The walk wasn’t very long, but it felt like forever. The rain only worsened, I would definitely be getting sick. By the time I got to Iida’s street, my phone died. I continued, walking up the street and stopping at the mailbox reading IIDA. A light was on inside, I could see in the dining room. Tenya sat there with his family, eating dinner. They were smiling, even laughing as his older brother said something, a huge grin on his face. 

I took a deep breath before walking up to their door. I stood for a moment, enjoying the roof over my head before shutting my eyes and raising my fist. 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

I took a step away from their door. Eyes willing themselves to open and hands behind my back, gripping my wrists tightly in anticipation. 

A few footsteps came from the otherside before their dark blue door swung open. A woman, blue eyes and black hair, answered with a smile. I opened my mouth for a moment but said nothing. As she studied me, I could see her smile fade lightly and her face contorted into confusion. 

Tenya came up behind her, his brother following behind. His blue widened after seeing me, hand going to the woman’s shoulder and leading her out of the way. 

“Tenya,” was all I could manage for now. “Hi.” 

The girl and Tenya’s brother shared confused looks, then left us alone. Tenya stepped out onto the porch, hand immediately flying to my forehead. 

“You’re cold,” he said. “What’re you doing out in this weather?”

“Can I stay here?” I asked him softly, “just for the night.” 

His head tilted, eyes focusing on me. “Sure,” his hand slipped into mine before he used the other to open his door again. He pulled me in, shutting the door behind us. 

“Stay here,” he told me, gesturing to the welcome mat I stood on. I looked at my feet, wet socks leaving dark wet marks on the fabric. Shit, I thought. Forgot shoes.

The woman peaked from the dining room archway. Tenya’s brother tugging on her shirt, “leave them be, mom.” He whispered. I didn’t look over at them, too embarrassed to look. Instead, I studied the inside of his home. The beautiful stairs leading to the second storey, their living room to the left of me, their dining room on my right. Bookshelves lined their walls, golden trimmed books glittering in the light of their entrance chandelier. 

It wasn’t long before Tenya came back, a grey bath towel with him. He put it around my shoulders, telling me to dry off before he disappeared into the dining room. I pulled the warm towel to myself, covering my face with it in embarrassment. My legs started shaking as my thoughts wandered, tears threatening again. 

I could hear light whispering from where Tenya had gone, a woman’s voice questioning, then Tenya’s voice answering. I inhaled sharply, willing my arms to move so I could dry off before he came back. 

Tenya’s footsteps approached, I kept my gaze limited to the floor, my hair blocking the view of anything else, rain lightly dripping down to the mat. I felt my cheeks burning. 

“Come upstairs,” his voice was calm, understanding. “You need to get out of those clothes, take a bath.” 

I only nodded and let his hand grip mine, letting him guide me upstairs, turning a few corners and into his bathroom. 

“I’m going to start a bath, okay?” He waited for my nod before turning on the water.”Feel this, tell me if it’s too hot.”

I stepped towards the bathtub and reached my hand into the water, “it’s good.” 

He sat on the edge of the bathtub while it filled up, hand still in the stream of water to regulate the temperature. 

“Do you wanna tell me why you’re here?” He asked. His voice was soft, not an ounce of annoyance or grievance coming out. 

“I was kicked out,” I spoke. “No more home for me, I guess.” The light chuckle that left my lips turned to a sob and I quickly breathed deep to stop the impending breakdown from happening. 

“What?” His voice now sounded slightly angry, but still filled with kindness. “Why would your parents do this?”

I didn’t say anything, still trying to hold back my tears. I only shrugged my shoulders pathetically as an answer, and he turned the tap off and stood up. 

“Take a quick bath, you can use anything you’d like in here. I’ll wait outside so just knock once you’re done and I’ll bring you some clean clothes, okay?”

I nodded again, then he left. I let the tears fall from my eyes the moment the door shut. The towel fell from my shoulders and I sniffled back as I peeled the clothes off my body. Stepping into the steaming water, skin tingling as it enveloped me, I finally let myself cry. The water smelt of my favourite scent, something I assumed Tenya added while filling the tub. 

I dipped down, fully submerging myself into the water and coming back up for air. I curled into a ball, arms reaching for the bottles of soaps and creams on the tub corners. I started reading what they were through blurry eyes. 

Birch scented shampoo and conditioner, moisturizing body wash, shea butter body scrub. I used the scrub, rubbing it up my arms and silently crying. 

I took a long bath, testing out every product on his bathtub. I heard his brother come to say goodnight to him, asking if I was okay and then leaving once Tenya told him I would be. His mother came to say goodnight with his father, asking what was wrong and asking if I would be here for breakfast tomorrow morning. 

After a while, the water had turned cold and the bathroom smelt like a mix of Tenya. I reached into the tub, pulling its plug and reaching for the towel. I dried my feet off first, stepping onto the tiled floor and then rubbing the rest of my body until it was slightly dry, no longer dripping everywhere. 

I walked up to the door, giving it three light taps. 

“Can I come in for a moment?” Tenya’s voice came. 

“Sure.”

The door handle turned and Tenya walked in, handing me a small pile of warm clothes and then leaving, closing the door shut behind him. 

I dressed myself, then stepped into his hallway. He’d given me dark blue sweatpants and a matching hoodie, both too big for me. I had to pull the drawstring of his sweatpants tightly and tie them into a bow. 

Tenya was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall dressed in his pajamas. When I stepped out he quickly turned to me, eyes landing on mine as I finally looked up at him. 

“Did you eat dinner?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, no. “Follow me.” He led me down the hall and into his bedroom, which had the bedside lamp on. A mug of hot tea and bowl of soup were placed alongside the lamp, and glass of water with them. He had set up a mattress on the floor of his room, blankets and sheets fitted on it. 

I started to walk towards it, but was caught by Tenya. “No, you take the bed tonight. Have some soup too, please.”

I turned to him. “Tenya, I can’t take your bed. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Please,” he begged. I gave in, walking to the bed and gesturing to him that he sit beside me. I sat cross legged as he handed me the bowl of soup. 

“They don’t like me being a hero,” I managed in between spoonfuls of soup. “Not good enough for them.”

He looked at me. “You don’t need to explain if you don’t wish to,” he said.

“It’s okay, that’s really all they said.” I lied. My mother’s shrill scream of, “don’t bother coming back until you can say you’re done disappointing this family,” ringing in the back of my mind. 

I wished I could fool him, but the look in his eye was showing his true disbelief in my lie. His face was left with a frown, teeth chewing on the inside of his lip while he thought. 

“How could you not be good enough for them?” He asked quietly, but not low enough that I missed it. “You’re an excellent student, an even better hero. You save lives, and it’s not good enough for them?” His voice was starting to rise slightly, anger lacing his tone. 

“Iida please,” I tried to get him to lower his voice. “It’s really not a big deal, they just don’t like heroes, that’s all.” 

“A parent is supposed to be a hero, someone who uplifts their kid’s dreams and supports them.” He was at a normal voice level now, his navy eyes locking with mine. “How could they kick you out over your dreams?”

“My parents aren’t like yours,” I whispered to him, “they don’t understand, just please keep it down.” My hand found its place on his before I knew what was happening and he froze slightly, eyes flickering down to his hand before looking back up at me. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “Just know that. I would’ve died a million times if you hadn’t helped me.” 

I smiled at him, “thank you.” 

“Now please finish your soup, it’s late and if you don’t warm up you’ll catch a cold.”

"Okay."

please take some time to view my masterlist or navigation pages.

#mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha angst #bnha angst #tenya iida #iida tenya #tenya iida x reader #iida tenya x reader #iida x reader #tenya x reader #angst #fluff #pluto’s asks 🌙

[esmedelacroix]

13 days til' Christmas

christmas party with exhusband!toji fushiguro ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

cw: very suggestive(got carried away/honestly its smutty idk what's wrong with me), shower sex, unprotected p in v, angsty

a/n: y'all im so sorry this was supposed to be a fluffy little christmas post i swear...

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Christmas was just around the corner. It was supposed to be a time of meeting family, gift-giving, and togetherness. Instead, you were stuck going through paperwork. Divorce paperwork.

You and your husband had agreed to divorce three months ago but the media still wouldn't know about it until you finished the last of the legal work.

You didn't know why but you couldn’t bring yourself to sign the final paper. It was so stupid that you were the one that suggested divorce and you couldn’t even stand to sign your own papers.

Toji probably already signed his and your lawyer(and his) were nagging the two of you about the papers.

It didn't help that you and Toji were in the same line of work. On top of that, you were both acting in the same romantic comedy show as love interests. The cherry on top was that the two of you got an invite to a Christmas party. It was only the most lavish Christmas party in all of Hollywood.

The two of you decided to go together because you were added to the guest list far before you divorced. It would be your last date. The two of you would have to make a huge effort to not argue in the middle of the party.

Your thoughts were beginning to tire you so you took one last look at the papers, unsigned again, like every other night for the past three months. You sighed as you picked up the book you had started when you and Toji were still sharing the bed you were now sitting in alone.

He had taken the liberty to move out a month after the divorce, leaving you your estate. You were in this big ass house with no one to share it with.

It was still the same house. The only difference was that Toji was gone and you were tucked into his side of the bed. It wasn't because you missed him or anything you were just there because you missed his scent and his warmth. But you didn't miss him, you were happy he was gone. Right? This is everything you wanted. Right?

You weren't wearing one of the button-ups that he had left on accident because you missed him. It just conveniently fits as a comfy oversized shirt for you.

You most certainly were not playing the old jazz songs that he liked to play when he forced you to slow dance with him because you missed him. You just never liked to admit to him that you kind of liked the songs that he played to his face.

As you slept, thoughts of him consumed, and for the first time you wondered, was this all a big mistake?

. . .

Weeks flew by as you found new crazy ways to keep your mind busy while your heart got heavier. As soon as you knew it, the day of the Christmas party arrived and you could finally call him without needing a stupid excuse.

You heard the line ring hoping and praying that he would answer so that you could hear his voice again after weeks of being starved of that beautiful sound.

"Hello?" he answered.

You sighed in relief as the vibrations of his voice entered your ears like water in a land of drought.

"Hey Toji, how much time do I have to get ready?" you asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He took some time to answer but soon replied, "I'll be there in three hours,"

"Okay, I'll be ready by then," you replied as you fiddled with the necklace that he gifted you for your first Christmas together as a married couple.

. . .

"I don't know what to get you, I know you'll like anything I give you but I want it to mean something," he said after asking you for the millionth time what you wanted for Christmas.

"I already told you I wouldn't be so upset if my gift was you[oiled up on the bed with whipped cream and fruit roll-ups in hand]," you replied.

"Please just give me one item to give you and I'll leave you alone,” he pleaded.

You took some time to think before saying, "Get me a necklace, any necklace and I promise you I'll wear it every single day, even if for some crazy reason were not together,"

"We’ll never not be together, I'll never let you go,” he promised.

. . .

"Alright I'll see you then," he said.

I miss you...

"Okay, bye-bye,"

I miss you more...

Just like that, you went back to feeling like you were living in a world with no sound worth hearing.

You got up from your bed to get ready. You wanted to blow him away, you took a steamy everything shower, and did a face mask, and applied some light makeup.

You scavenged through your closet looking for the perfect dress to wear. Then you realized, you didn't have to wear a dress. You decided to wear a festive red suit with nothing under the vest. You were displaying a mouth-watering plunging cleavage. Not many people had seen your sternum tattoo but you didn't care to hide it.

You finished off the outfit with a killer pair of Louboutins. Everything that you were wearing were things that he had bought you thinking you would look good in them.

The only issue is that you were too scared to wear them because of your image. You let the increased amount of fame you were receiving get to your head. Maybe that was part of the reason why the arguments started.

You slicked your hair back and kept it down. It was a new look for you but it was a vibe you wanted to experiment with. It was so you. You were hidden behind bright pastels and fairy-like dresses all the time, it would be your first red carpet dressed in clothes you liked.

You were lost in the moment of getting ready with music blasting and putting your earrings on you didn't hear the front door open or the footsteps up the stairs.

You fidgeted with the necklace as you admired yourself in the mirror. You never embraced the more sensual side of yourself until now. It was weird but it felt right.

Even so, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Were you showing too much skin? Did you just look like a little kid playing dress-up?

"You look incredible," Toji assured as if he could read your every thought, He admired you through the mirror with a small smile on his face.

Your body jumped at the sudden intrusion. "Oh I didn't realize you were there," you said, crossing your arms feeling almost naked in front of him.

He walked up to you and uncrossed your arms placing his hands on your shoulders afterwards. He eyed you from your hair to your face down to your cleavage. His eyes stayed there for a while. She’s still wearing it. He thought to himself looking at the necklace he gifted you.

"You look perfect baby," he said and for a moment everything felt right. It felt like you weren't divorced. It felt like you were a married couple in love again.

You hugged him burying your face in his chest. "Thank you," you mumbled. You thought you would have the self-control to hold back but you didn't. Being in his arms was addictive and his scent intoxicating.

You quickly scurried away to get your clutch and the two of you went down into the car. He opened the door for you as always and he gave you aux as usual. It was like nothing had changed at all. You weren't married on paper but the two of you didn't act like it at all. It was as if you never got divorced. Kind of.

The two of you drove to his new house where the limo was waiting. There was a red carpet for this holiday party. The two of you were in the middle of a long line of limousines. You could see the celebrities on the red carpet taking photos together.

As you got closer and closer to the entrance of the event, you started to bounce your leg. Your nerves were starting to get to you and you began overthinking about what everyone else would think of you.

Just then you felt a large warm hand on your thigh. You looked down to see Toji's hand. He gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, he was looking away but you appreciated the gesture. You could almost sense the shy smile and the blush that were most likely gracing his face.

If just for a moment you could just pretend that August never happened. Like you never got into that one argument that unpacked too many emotions at once. If you could pretend that everything was okay and normal, you would rest your head heavy with your thoughts, on his broad shoulder.

And so you did. You held on to his muscular arm and snuggled into his side. You could feel yourself calm down in his presence alone. He took your hand in his and looked down at you admiring your beauty. The time felt right, his perfume filled your head and the clicks of cameras started to die down. "I've missed you Toji, every single day that we were apart, I've missed you," you revealed. To him and to yourself you admitted that you missed him and regret consumed you whole.

Toji turned to you, shock painted across his face. He crouched his head down so she could look into your eyes. "I've missed you t-," Toji started before their limousine door opened suddenly.

The world around the two of you began to fill with the clicks of cameras and the chatter of reporters and celebrities. You flashed Toji a nervous look and he gave your hand a squeeze before stepping out of the limousine before you and helping you out.

Gasps followed with your stunning entrance. Your look was unique to what the media was used to seeing you. It was also far fetched from the image that your entertainment company wanted you to maintain.

Toji kept your hand in his the entire time. His touch comforted you. You felt confident enough to pose with him and by your lonesome. You looked over at Toji who was already watching you after you were done posing.

The two of you waved to the press and entered the venue. "You looked amazing out there," Toji said, looking away from you with a light blush adorning his cheeks.

"Thank you, you didn't look too shabby yourself," you quipped.

He chuckled and shook his head at you. Everything felt right. You weren't alone anymore.

. . .

Dinner went on without a hitch. You and Toji allowed yourselves to have fun and let loose. After the party, you and Toji got into the limo and you told the driver your address.

You and Toji sat in the car in a comfortable silence recharging your social batteries. The two of you were holding hands, you were snuggled into his side taking in his scent. He was running his hands through your hair. The ride was far too short, and as soon as you knew it, you had arrived at your house. But you would have to leave home behind in that limo.

"Look, I know our situation but, do you want to come in tonight? Just for today please I don't want to be alone tonight," you practically begged.

"Sure, okay," he agreed as he looked you in the eyes sympathetically.

The two of you thanked and tipped your driver before entering the house together. Toji led you up to your room and ran to the shower telling you that you could join him if you wanted. You waited and thought for a while before getting up and deciding to take him up on his offer.

You stripped completely naked before entering the bathroom. You could only make out his figure through the steamy glass of the shower. You opened the shower door and joined him.

The two of you were completely silent helping get each other's backs and helping with shampoo. It felt just like the times before except there was this lingering feeling of tension and uneasiness you just wanted to shake off.

You hugged Toji from behind. Your naked body against his, water trickling down both of you. He turned around, running his hand through your hair and raking it away from your face. Staring into your eyes longingly before crashing his lips against yours.

Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Were you scared? in pain? No. You were sorry. So so sorry. In between heated wet kisses, all you could get out was apology after apology.

. . .

"I don't know Baby, I just feel like you aren't very authentic, like you're acting like someone different, even around me now," Toji said.

"Well, the company said that it would be best if I acted this way, they said I would be taken more seriously," you explained.

"Baby, you’re going to lose yourself in this role, because you're just acting, this isn't you," he said.

"How do you know if it's me or not? Maybe this how I act, how do you know?" you asked.

"How do I know? I’m your husband. I am your husband," he said sternly.

. . .

You hadn't even realized that you were crying. It all looked like water anyway.

Toji's hand traveled from the sides of your face all the way down to your waist pulling you into him. You could feel his hot length twitch and harden against your thigh.

You moaned into the kiss thrusting your hips against his, your body seemed to have a mind of its own.

. . .

"I don't understand why you're acting like this. It feels like I don't know you and I'd like my wife back," Toji said as he entered the break room.

You had acted like an airheaded bimbo during the interview because your management told you that it would clean up your image.

"Well maybe you really don't know me," you rebutted.

"Why would you want to act stupid for approval from the internet instead of wanting to be recognized as one of the few outspoken actresses out there," he retorted.

. . .

Toji left hot kisses on your jawline that translated to hickeys on your neck. As he kissed down to your cleavage he kissed the pendant of the necklace that he gifted you that you still wore all the time.

You moaned his name loudly in pleasure, crying tears of regret, sadness, and euphoric joy.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry

so very sorry

. . .

"Don't you like me more now?! Why don't you like me more now?" you questioned after Toji refused to have sex with you unless you stopped this act.

Everything was different kissing you felt different, sex you felt different. It felt wrong because he felt like he was cheating on you with a completely different woman.

"Are we even married anymore? Do you even want to be married anymore?" you questioned.

"Babe, honestly I don't even know anymore,”

"I want a divorce. Let's get a divorce. Now," you said, waiting for him to fight with you, to fight for you to say anything.

He simply shook his head raising his hands in defeat before burying his head in them. That night he left and the only times you saw him again were for legal issues.

. . .

Your back was flush against the glass wall of the shower. Your legs were dangling in the air as Toji thrust into you holding your legs up and wrapping them around his waist.

Your fingers were clawing at his back as his length almost split you in half.

You forget what it felt like to be so full. "Missed this pussy, missed it so much," Toji mumbled with his head buried in the crook of your neck as he tried with all his might not to go ahead and just explode inside of you.

You were milking him, unable to stop your walls from clamping down on his cock. You were uncontrollably creaming on his cock making a mess of him and his thighs.

"Ahn, I'm so close, I'm close Daddy can I please cum?" you asked, barely making sense.

"Yeah, c'mon baby show me how good I make you feel," he urged.

You needed no other words you immediately started squirting as Toji fucked you through your high chasing his own.

You felt his hot cum shoot up into you as his tip kissed your cervix. You never felt so full until then. You let out one last apology before leaning against his chest.

"All is forgiven baby, I'm just happy to have my wife back," Toji admitted.

"I've missed you like a fish stranded on the surface missed the feeling of water pumping through its gills. You're a daily need and I've been so deprived of you for so long," Toji said as he helped you shower again after making a mess of you.

It would've been my greatest regret to let you go...

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

taglist:

@aripet22

#toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fic #toji fanfic #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji fluff #fushiguro toji x y/n #toji smut #christmas fluffdown #slowest burn of all time

[cumulo-stratus]

Love Like a Fathers

Request: Hello, hope you're having a good day/night, I was wondering if I could request Spencer x Father figure reader, theyre On a case the unsub tries to kill Spencer but reader protects him and gets hurt himself.

Pairing: platonic!Spencer reid x Father figure!reader

Summary: Y/n gets hurt protecting Spencer from an unsub, and y/n and spencer spend some time together at the hospital

warnings: cannon typical violence, gunshot wounds/blood, swearing, s1 spencer being an adorable little cutie-pie <3

A/N: Friend I'm so so so sry this has been a WIP for like month😭- I've had like no motivation to write :( thank you for the patience and for the lovely request, and although ive never written platonic for spencer, i did my best! btw the lovely dividers are by @cafekitsune (not proof read)

1.3k

Spencer Reid and Y/n L/n weren’t related by blood, but if you asked anyone that knew them- they would tell you that it doesnt matter. y/n treated spencer like the son he never had, and spencer treated y/n like the father he lost. Even if you didn’t know them, you could tell the pair were close. Spencers intellect bounced well of y/n’s wisdom. Hotch knew this, and often paired spencer with y/n because of it. And when they got called to a case in the small town of Trutney, Alabama, it was no different. 

As soon as the plane landed l/n and reid had been paired off to go to the M.E.’s to look at the one body they had so far. And so the next 2 days went by as uneventfully as they could go on a case with the BAU. Interviews, and case files - take out around a conference table and calls to garcia- just a regular BAU case. Until the last day when they were sure they had the right guy; Daniel Wilson, he fit the profile perfectly. And so the team was spilt into 2 groups; one going to the house and one going to the workplace. Hotch sent y/n and spencer to the back knowing y/n would have spencers back if anything happened. 

As they crept through the long hallways silently the pair would share glances every now and then. When they reached a split Y/n made a silent flick of his wrist ordering spencer to take the path to the right while y/n would take the path to the left. Y/n stalked down the hall with his gun raised leaving Spencer to do the same with the other hallway. 

Y/n was clearing the final room at the end of the hall when the distant sound of grunting and a gun shot. Without another though y/n raced down the hall toward the continuous grunting yelping. Y/n just barely remembered to call for back up as he ran- Morgan's voice sounding through the phones speakers.

"What's up L/n-"

He was interrupted by y/n's out breath voice.

"I heard a shot from Reid's side of the house I need backup" 

Before Morgan could respond y/n hung up, stuffing the phone in his back pocket. When y/n reached the source of the sounds, he found a door slightly ajar. He pushed it open all the way to find Spencer on the loop ground with the unsub above him. They were pushing against eachother trying sway the barrel of the gun in their favor. Spencer was trying to push the barrel away from his head while the unsub did the opposite. Without hesitation y/n crossed the room and grabbed the unsub roughly by his shoulders throwing him away from spencer. Spencer took no time at all the scramble away, his feet sliding as he fumbled to push himself away.  Meanwhile y/n and the unsigned were in a struggle for the gun. And almost as if in slow mo, spencer saw a bullet leave the barrel and enter y/ns shoulder- right where his neck met his shoulders. The resounding bang that came with it caused spencers ears to ring. but caused everything to come back to normal speed was the second gunshot, from y/n to the unsubs chest. He fell to the ground, bleeding out. 

“Spencer! spencer i need you to put pressure on the wound- okay?” 

Despite the many filed first aid books he’d read, spencer couldnt recall a single bit of information- and was only listening y/n’s instructions. 

“alright now use my sweater- ya its right over there. We need something to stop the bleeding-“

Y/n interrupted himself with small grunts and grimaces every time his shoulder moved. But luckily spencer was in it enough to properly use the sweater y/n had provided.

At this point spencers hands were soaked in blood, and so was the sweater. It was warm, and sticky- drying and cracking on the back of his hands. Just then Morgan came storming in, a mix of swat and paramedics trailing behind him. A paramedic took the sweater from spencer’s hands and he was pulled away by Morgan to checked out- despite his protests. spencer was quite insistent he stay with y/n but Morgan settled him enough to get checked out by telling him that he would be updated if anything happened. 

Spencer stood in front of the open doors of an ambulance- restlessly wringing his hands together while an EMT patched the small gash on his forehead. Spencer had resisted saying anything about how he thought it was unnecessary- as it wasn’t even bleeding that much. But spencer knew better than to argue with Morgan at this point. 

Spencer practically ran- which he didn’t do very often- to the nearest large black SUV. As he walked/ran across the lawn he called out to morgan.

“St. Mary’s right?”

“on 32nd street-“

spencer didnt allow morgan to finish- instead climbing into one of the FBI vehicles littering the street. 

The fluorescent lights of the hospital burned spencers retinas as spoke the woman at the desk. 

“excuse me where is Y/n L/n’s room?’

as he spoke, spencer drummed his fingers against the desk- anxious to see y/n. Make sure he was okay. 

“Down the hall and to your left, room 328 sir”

Spencer barely managed a curt thank you and nod before he was speed walking down the hall. the lights in the hospital clashed with the stark white of the hall when spencer entered. They were dimmed to be only slightly brighter than the dark sky through the glass. spencer found y/n asleep soundly with a large bandage across his shoulder and butterfly bandages littering his exposed chest and face. Spencer could feel some of the weight lift off his shoulders when his eyes met y/ns closed ones. 

----

Despite the dim light it still took effort for y/n keep his eyes open once he woke up. The first thing he noticed was sleeping form of Spencer draped over an uncomfortable looking chair. His back and neck were bent forward in what looked to be a not very comfortable position to sleep in. 

Spencer stirred when y/n grunted quietly from the pain of sitting himself up. Spencer immediately rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went to help y/n, and as always y/n tried to tell Spencer he was fine and didn't need help. But y/n always made an exception for Spencer- especially he insisted with his innocent honey brown eyes. 

"Spence I'm fine bud- come sit with me"

Y/n had a smile on his face and patted the spot next to him which he had now made by scooching over. Spencer shyly climbed up next y/n, his slacks and blazer looking out of place to the hospital gown y/n was wearing. 

"You know you really scared me back there-"

Spencer was staring at his hands as he spoke- remembering the blood that had once coated them. Y/n took the opportunity to place a comforting comforting hand on Spencer's back, rubbing back and forth the way y/ns own family did. 

"I know- but you can't rid of me that easily bud"

They both laughed lightly at that and instead of responding verbally Spencer leaned his head on y/ns shoulder, appreciating the warmth of y/ns excess internal heat. Spencer was often the one to take advantage of the human heater of a person y/n was. And this was one of those moments. 

No more words were needed for the rest of the evening. They weren't needed for anything- the team could handle it (and it helped that Hotch knew how stressed Spencer was and let him know he could stay at the hospital with y/n). 

And there; in the dimly lit hospital room, that smelled of disinfectant, Spencer felt more comforted than in his own home. 

The End 

Pls leave a like and a reblog!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #bau #cute #bau team #fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #Spencer reid x father figure! Reader #Platonic spencer #S1 Spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds request #Request #requests open

[thisdayinmetal]

Unsigned of the Month - Ashen Crown

Unsigned of the Month – Ashen Crown

Loud, heavy, dark, atmospheric, grandiose, occasionally melodic, always epic, Ashen Crown have something for everyone. The extreme/death metal hybrid quintet from the West Midlands, UK have already made their stage presence known having played the likes of Bloodstock Open Air, Hammerfest and Amplified. An electrifying and raw brutal energy full of epic riffs and crushing vocals, Ashen Crown…

View On WordPress

#Ashen Crown #Death Metal #extreme metal #Heavy Metal #Kieran Scott #Obsolescence #This Day In Metal #Unsigned of the Month

[the-travelling-witch]

Oh no, I’d suggest a mouse but I’ve been using my like 2010 computer mouse with a roadrunner mousepad since.. um 2010-

Maybe try going to some tech store? And ask them! Or get a gamer mouse those i think Are good

well i bought mine at a tech store (a month and a half ago) so there’s that…

i thought a normal mouse would do it since gaming mice are so expensive most of the time and i don’t really game on the level where i’d need that

i think i’ll try to get it switched to the similar model and pray that mine just had a malfunctioning

#┊✩彡 divine correspondence ♡ #┊✩彡 unsigned letter ♡ #right? #surely no company would make a mouse that says ciao after a month and a half right? #i did like it shape wise etc so i’d really hope so #my biggest fear is that they just won’t let me return it #like yes i could pull a law student move but also i have anxiety #if someone tells me no i will shrivel up and die

[sophswritingthings]

I HAVE AN IDEAAAAAAAAA!

(btw, if you wanna do this one more than my other request PLEASE DO)

highschool au mizu x reader. acidemic rivals.

mizu is literally readers worst enemy when it comes to tests and work, and the two are constantly fighting over who got a better grade

sometime after, reader starts getting unsigned love notes in their locker. they can’t recognize the handwriting as anyone they know

like a month after the notes appear, the writer asks the reader to meet them at a park

they do, and the writer was mizu (how funny) and they make up and confess

😋

pairing: high school au!mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, mizu being a lil shit

a/n: I LOVE THIS. she 100% would be like “bitch I will cut you” because she also does their fencing club and and,,,,

summary: after a while of bickering and fighting with your little rival, you start getting unsigned love notes in your locker.

word count: 823 words / 4,524 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“oh, for gods sake, mizu!” you roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “I’ve definitely got the better grade. you may have one our last little “battle” but I will win this war of ours.”

you snicker, gazing at her from your desk.

“I don’t happen to agree, (y/n),” she gathered herself to her feet. “I have fencing practice today and don’t have time to argue about this right about now. later, maybe?”

you laugh, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“yeah, yeah. go do your little fighting thing, or whatever you do. I have debate, anyway,” you hiss, strutting out of the room on your high horse.

she watched as you went. she watched as you strutted away in your schools uniform; a sight that made her head race with thoughts she didn’t think she shouldn’t be thinking.

you were headed to your locker, grabbing out your books and bag. you stuff all your items in your bag. 

but not before you noticed a note, stuffed in the back of your locker.

your eyes trace it, for a moment, a light pink piece of lined paper. you grab the paper, beginning to read what the note says.

an excerpt, of your favorite poem.. written and unsigned.

the words make you blush a little bit—someone, leaving such a thoughtful and loving excerpt of your favorite poem.

who in hell would be leaving you a love-note in your locker?

it wasn’t handwriting you could recognize.

a month after you found the first note, you would find another one each day. another excerpt of a poem you loved. and it got more… romantic, everyday you found another one.

and of course, you arguing with mizu never stopped. over test grades, group projects, presentations. you know, the usual.

but you didn’t really pay attention to it much, anymore. you were a bit distracted by the little love notes in your locker.

somebody was interested in you; mizu didn’t have that, and you did. why fight with someone who didn’t like you, when you could use your smarts to find out who did like you?

when you arrived at your locker again, you smiled bright as you saw another piece of paper.

you grabbed it.

but this time, there was no poem.

the same handwriting, but this time it read that the writer wanted you to meet them at the park—a park that bloomed with beautiful flowers.

and it happened to be just around the corner of the school.

you grabbed your stuff, rushing out of the building and to the park. your eyes saw a shadow, hidden behind a small tree. a shadow who looked.. strangely familiar..

you approached slowly, clearing your throat to catch their attention.

and there she was. mizu, standing with a fencing sword attached to her hip.

you blushed a little, your eyes widening.

oh.. my fucking god. 

mizu. mizu had been leaving you love notes in your locker for the past month. 

everything clicked for you. how she knew your favorite poems, exactly which excerpts to pick.

if you were being honest—mizu knew more about you than anyone you had ever known. even if you did fight so much.

and it was evident that she cared. evident that she liked you enough to do all this for you.

you smiled softly, “um.. hi.”

“hi,” she choked out. “this has gotta be weird for you. hasn’t it?”

“a little,” you chuckle, “but I can’t say I’m… disappointed, in a way?”

her blue eyes widen, “your not?”

“no,” you take a few steps toward her, “I just.. wasn’t expecting it.”

“neither—hah, neither was I,” she whispers. “but it was a pleasant surprise, I won’t say it wasn’t,” mizu takes in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said, I have to say that. I’ve never been one to deal with feelings properly, and I think it came out as jealousy and anger.”

you nod, taking another pace toward her. 

“I understand that,” you murmur. “I’m sorry, too. I did the same things to you. it couldn’t.. have felt good.”

“no—it didn’t, but it couldn’t have felt good on your end, either, being treated like that.” she reached out for your hand, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.

“y-yeah,” your voice choked out, clearing your throat again. the sudden touch made your heart pound. 

“I like you,” she whispered, practically into your ear. she was so, so close to you. “I really do.”

you nod slowly, taking in her words. 

“I.. like you too.”

you murmur, your lips inches from hers.

she takes the initiative to close the gap, her lips pressing against yours. she holds your chin in between her fingers gently, the other hand grasping your hand.

you hum softly, pushing yourself up onto your tip-toes to get a better vantage point.

“short,” she chuckled, her forehead still pressed against yours.

“oh, shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: combined your asks!

#mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #asked and answered #request #fic request #x reader

[worriedvision]

The process of a divorce - Ayato

Gender neutral reader, angst. Thoma has been close friends with both the reader and Ayato, but when Ayato explains to you he is filing for a divorce, the warmth Thoma used to have for you is gone.

--

When your husband told you he lost his feelings for you, explaining that the lack of quality time together was a final straw for him, you couldn't understand.

It made absolutely no sense!

He knew what he was signing up for with you, both of you were prominent figures! He has been the one to constantly call off dates last minute, only taking them when it was public. It only started a few months ago, it felt sudden but he always explained it was due to work.

Thoma was standing there with papers, specifically the divorce papers, and he didn't say a word when Ayato looked at him. He places the papers down, you pulling out the pen your husband had given you.

"Until the paperwork is confirmed and announced, I will have someone escort you back to your home." Ayato explains, signing the paper.

"...Did something happen?" You ask, Ayato not looking at you. "This all feels so sudden."

You can feel Thoma glaring holes into your skull when you say that, indicating this was the truth, but your husband doesn't dignify you with an answer. When you go to remove your wedding band, Ayato stops you with a hand.

"The process can take a few days. You'll need to pretend until things are official." Ayato coldly explains, standing up and leaving Thoma with the papers.

"Thoma, could you fill me in on what's happened?" You ask, still not signing the paper.

You expect something at least lukewarm from him, he was always so lovely with you.

"You know what you did." Thoma looks down at you, eyeballing the paperwork that was still unsigned.

"Please, I want to know. I love my husband, i want to prove that." You plead, Thoma rolling his eyes at you. "I honestly don't know what's going on."

"Shame on you." Thoma tuts, hand now on his hip. "You're stalling, sign the paper."

You froze, possibly from how coldly Thoma was treating you. No warmth at all, no empathy, he hates you in this moment.

With a shaky hand, you sign the paperwork.

--

The next day, you had a planned meeting with your brother. A few months ago, you had found out you had a brother that went to Liyue when he was young, creating his own business instead of being tied to the clan. Barely anyone remembered him, and you were that young that you never knew of his existence until he reached out to you in a letter. You met up in private spaces, places that nobody visited regularly, and you both caught up with each other and bonded over childhood memories that, while you didn't share, you both experienced.

You were usually so happy, but you were seriously struggling this morning. He could see it clearly when you didn't say a cheery hello.

Handing you a blank piece of paper, he waits for you to write what was happening. Since it was daytime, he knew you two would be spotted if he spoke.

When he reads about the divorce, Thoma being cold and no explanation, he's instantly realising what's happened. The timeline so that, when he reached out to you, Ayato started to call off dates that were not public. He shakes his head, writing down for you to tell him where your husband was so he could arrange for a meeting. You shake your head no, but your brother nods aggressively and demands it silently.

You decide to write down your next public date, tonight at 6pm in the Komore Teahouse.

--

When Ayato saw the man he thought you were cheating on him with, he struggles to hold back a knowing smirk. How bold of your new lover to ask him about you the day after he presented you with those divorce papers.

"Oh well hello there, homewrecker." Ayato smirks, expecting some bubbling 'I didn't know they were married'. Thoma was conveniently coming along with a pot of tea, and when he spots your brother, he gives him an empathetic look.

"Homewrecker? That would be incest, I think you'll find." Your brother spots out, both Ayato and Thoma sharing a look of shock. "Yeah, that person is my sibling."

Silence hits the room, Thoma placing the tea down on the table before awkwardly standing there.

"You didn't think of asking me about the relationship I have with them, did you? Just jump to conclusions." Your brother tuts. "Your spies must not be very good if they failed to tell you about the conversations about the family."

Still, the room becomes silent after your brother speaks. Ayato and Thoma are realising that yes, they did jump to conclusions and in the months of this happening, not once did they think to ask your brother about this.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves." Your brother growls, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Thoma yells, your brother stopping. "Could you bring your sibling here? We would like to apologise."

"Well, considering I know you have already filed those divorce papers, you are past the point of fixing this." Your brother sighs. "Plus, after further discussion, I decided to take them back to Liyue so they can start fresh. After all, when the divorce is finalised everyone here will paint them to be the bad guy."

Your brother storms out, knowing he would land up punching your soon to be ex husband in the face if he didn't, leaving the two to stew in the realisation of what they both ruined with you.

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #angst #thoma #ayato #ayato x gender neutral reader #ayato x reader

[finalgirllx]

crush + garreth pretty pls <3

Garreth Weasley + Crush this was from a long time ago, but life happened and now I'm inspired to get creative and come back! if i'm late, pls forgive me! also, i found my groove here when i wrote it from the perspective of you developing a crush on him. enjoy!

Upon meeting Garreth, you didn't take him too seriously. He was cute, sure, but also quite the harbinger of chaos in many of your classes, especially potions. He was known as the class clown by many.

It was only your luck that you kept getting paired with him in potions class, as you seemed to be the only student left who wouldn't tear him a new one when his 25th experiment exploded. It just wasn't in your nature to be anything besides supportive. His dream had to begin somewhere, did it not?

After the anticipated explosion finally happened, you took a warm cloth and started to dab Garreth's dress shirt meticulously to remove forming stains. "As if you needed to wreck another shirt, Weasley," you teased. "The face you make when you're focused is cute," he said.

Hold the fuck up. Your concentration flitted from the stain and up into his green eyes, which looked down at you with an amused yet adoring expression. You didn't even realize you had a concentration face!

"I- I- thanks. All clean now!" you stammered out, removing the cloth (therefore your hand) from his chest and looking away, your face turning as red as his hair. He had done it. That sweet little comment made you realize you had a massive crush on the bloke.

Suddenly, you were nervous about every class you shared with him. An urge to impress him that hadn't been there before now flooded your every rational thought, and it only became worse since you were now aware that you were next to him in almost every class.

Garreth, sweet as ever, noticed you stiffen up but had no clue why. "No need to be so nervous, love, it's just a basic charm. You'll kill it!"

Meanwhile, you're just trying not to notice how nice his hands look while he's speaking to you. He talks with his hands a lot.

A few weeks of sheer torment pass before you can muster up the courage to confront the fact that this curly-red-headed boy was at the forefront of every dream of yours at this point.

Getting to class before anyone else could arrive, you left a note on his potions station. Unsigned. How bold. You had purposefully seated yourself as far across the classroom as possible this morning and left it, which was noticeable considering your spot had been next to him for the past month.

The bugger, always second to enter, walked up to his station without a care in the world, but just before he sat down, a troubled look washed over him, and he stopped to look around. His gaze settled on you. He addressed you with a cheeky grin. "Please tell me I didn't scare away the last person willing to work with me in our year. I'll miss you, love. Is there any way I can get my buddy back?"

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You sheepishly pointed toward the note Garreth had yet to notice, your plan for discretion failing more spectacularly by the second.

His eyes searched for your target and landed on the note, raising a brow and picking it up. Wordlessly, he unwrapped the letter and scanned the page. It was concise, saying 'i like you.'

Almost immediately, his head snapped up to meet your gaze again, this time far more stunned. Pointing to himself, he silently mouthed the words. "You, like me?"

With a sheepish smile and flushed appearance, you nodded and mouthed back. "I like you," and then gestured to yourself, silently asking if he reciprocated.

The Gryffindor boy was stunned into silence. Garreth breathed and rested his hands against his station to collect his bearings. After a moment that ached on for a century, he did something entirely unexpected. He pulled out his own notepad and quill.

You watched him painstakingly etch his own note, which he then folded with the utmost precision as you waited for what seemed to be ages.

Finally, with the goofiest, lopsided grin you had ever seen Garreth wear, he walked over and set the folded note you watched him write down in front of you.

You gulped and looked down, reading the exact words you had written him, but in his own handwriting instead. 'I like you too.'

"Now, will you come be my potions partner again? No one will take me!"

You wholeheartedly accepted and let him drag you back to your shared station, hand in hand.

Couldn't have worked out any sweeter, you reckon.

#hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #hogwarts legacy garreth #gryffindor

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The long sleep of capitalism’s watchdogs

There are only five more days left in my Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

One of the weirdest aspect of end-stage capitalism is the collapse of auditing, the lynchpin of investing. Auditors – independent professionals who sign off on a company's finances – are the only way that investors can be sure they're not handing their money over to failing businesses run by crooks.

It's just not feasible for investors to talk to supply-chain partners and retailers and verify that a company's orders and costs are real. Investors can't walk into a company's bank and demand to see their account histories. Auditors – who are paid by companies, but work for themselves – are how investors avoid shoveling money into Ponzi-pits.

Attentive readers will have noticed that there is an intrinsic tension in an arrangement where someone is paid by a company to certify its honesty. The company gets to decide who its auditors are, and those auditors are dependent on the company for future business. To manage this conflict of interest, auditors swear fealty to a professional code of ethics, and are themselves overseen by professional boards with the power to issue fines and ban cheaters.

Enter monopolization. Over the past 40 years, the US government conducted a failed experiment in allowing companies to form monopolies on the theory that these would be "efficient." From Boeing to Facebook, Cigna to InBev, Warner to Microsoft, it has been a catastrophe. The American corporate landscape is dominated by vast, crumbling, ghastly companies whose bad products and worse corporate conduct are locked in a race to see who can attain the most depraved enshittification quickest.

The accounting profession is no exception. A decades-long incestuous orgy of mergers and acquisitions yielded up an accounting sector dominated by just four firms: EY, KPMG, PWC and Deloitte (the last holdout from the alphabetsoupification of corporate identity). Virtually every major company relies on one of these companies for auditing, but that's only a small part of corporate America's relationship with these tottering behemoths. The real action comes from "consulting."

Each of the Big Four accounting firms is also a corporate consultancy. Some of those consulting services are the normal work of corporate consultants – cookie cutter advice to fire workers and reduce product quality, as well as supplying dangerously defecting enterprise software. But you can get that from the overpaid enablers at McKinsey or BCG. The advantage of contracting with a Big Four accounting firm for consulting is that they can help you commit finance fraud.

Remember: if you're an executive greenlighting fraud, you mostly just want to be sure it's not discovered until after you've pocketed your bonus and moved on. After all, the pro-monopoly experiment was also an experiment in tolerating corporate crime. Executives who cheat their investors, workers and suppliers typically generate fines for their companies, while escaping any personal liability.

By buying your cheating advice from the same company that is paid to certify that you're not cheating, you greatly improve your chances of avoiding detection until you've blown town.

Which brings me to the idea of the "bezzle." This is John Kenneth Galbraith's term for "the weeks, months, or years that elapse between the commission of the crime and its discovery." This is the period in which both the criminal and the victim feel like they're better off. The crook has the victim's money, and the victim doesn't know it. The Bezzle is that interval when you're still assuming that FTX isn't lying to you about the crazy returns they're generating for your crypto. It's the period between you getting the shrinkwrapped box with a 90% discounted PS5 in it from a guy in an alley, and getting home and discovering that it's full of bricks and styrofoam.

Big Accounting is a factory for producing bezzles at scale. The game is rigged, and they are the riggers. When banks fail and need a public bailout, chances are those banks were recently certified as healthy by one of the Big Four, whose audited bank financials failed 800 re-audits between 2009-17:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/28/cyberwar-tactics/#aligned-incentives

The Big Four dispute this, of course. They claim to be models of probity, adhering to the strictest possible ethical standards. This would be a lot easier to believe if KPMG hadn't been caught bribing its regulators to help its staff cheat on ethics exams:

https://www.nysscpa.org/news/publications/the-trusted-professional/article/sec-probe-finds-kpmg-auditors-cheating-on-training-exams-061819

Likewise, it would be easier to believe if their consulting arms didn't keep getting caught advising their clients on how to cheat their auditing arms:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/09/dingo-babysitter/#maybe-the-dingos-ate-your-nan

Big Accounting is a very weird phenomenon, even by the standards of End-Stage Capitalism. It's an organized system of millionaire-on-billionaire violence, a rare instance of the very richest people getting scammed the hardest:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/04/aaronsw/#crooked-ref

The collapse of accounting is such an ominous and fractally weird phenomenon, it inspired me to write a series of hard-boiled forensic accountancy novels about a two-fisted auditor named Martin Hench, starting with last year's Red Team Blues (out in paperback next week!):

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865854/redteamblues

The sequel to Red Team Blues is called (what else?) The Bezzle, and part of its ice-cold revenge plot involves a disillusioned EY auditor who can't bear to be part of the scam any longer:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-bezzle-a-martin-hench-audiobook-amazon-wont-sell

The Hench stories span a 40-year period, and are a chronicle of decades of corporate decay. Accountancy is the perfect lens for understanding our modern fraud economy. After all, it was crooked accountants who gave us the S&L crisis:

https://scholarworks.umt.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=10130&context=etd

Crooked auditors were at the center of the Great Financial Crisis, too:

https://francinemckenna.com/2009/12/07/they-werent-there-auditors-and-the-financial-crisis/

And of course, crooked auditors were behind the Enron fraud, a rare instance in which a fraud triggered a serious attempt to prevent future crimes, including the destruction of accounting giant Arthur Andersen. After Enron, Congress passed Sarbanes-Oxley (SOX), which created a new oversight board called the Public Company Accounting Oversight Board (PCAOB).

The PCAOB is a watchdog for watchdogs, charged with auditing the auditors and punishing the incompetent and corrupt among them. Writing for The American Prospect and the Revolving Door Project, Timi Iwayemi describes the long-running failure of the PCAOB to do its job:

https://prospect.org/power/2024-01-26-corporate-self-oversight/

For example: from 2003-2019, the PCAOB undertook only 18 enforcement cases – even though the PCAOB also detected more than 800 "seriously defective audits" by the Big Four. And those 18 cases were purely ornamental: the PCAOB issued a mere $6.5m in fines for all 18, even though they could have fined the accounting companies $1.6 billion:

https://www.pogo.org/investigations/how-an-agency-youve-never-heard-of-is-leaving-the-economy-at-risk

Few people are better on this subject than the investigative journalist Francine McKenna, who has just co-authored a major paper on the PCAOB:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4227295

The paper uses a new data set – documents disclosed in a 2019 criminal trial – to identify the structural forces that cause the PCAOB to be such a weak watchdog whose employees didn't merely fail to do their jobs, but actually criminally abetted the misdeeds of the companies they were supposed to be keeping honest.

They put the blame – indirectly – on the SEC. The PCAOB has three missions: protecting investors, keeping markets running smoothly, and ensuring that businesses can raise capital. These missions come into conflict. For example, declaring one of the Big Four auditors ineligible would throw markets into chaos, removing a quarter of the auditing capacity that all public firms rely on. The Big Four are the auditors for 99.7% of the S&P 500, and certify the books for the majority of all listed companies:

https://blog.auditanalytics.com/audit-fee-trends-of-sp-500/

For the first two decades of the PCAOB's existence, the SEC insisted that conflicts be resolved in ways that let the auditing firms commit fraud, because the alternative would be bad for the market.

So: rather than cultivating an adversarial relationship to the Big Four, the PCAOB effectively merged with them. Two of its board seats are reserved for accountants, and those two seats have been occupied by Big Four veterans almost without exception:

https://www.pogo.org/investigations/captured-financial-regulator-at-risk

It was no better on the SEC side. The Office of the Chief Accountant is the SEC's overseer for the PCAOB, and it, too, has operated with a revolving door between the Big Four and their watchdog (indeed, the Chief Accountant is the watchdog for the watchdog for the watchdogs!). Meanwhile, staffers from the Office of the Chief Accountant routinely rotated out of government service and into the Big Four.

This corrupt arrangement reached a crescendo in 2019, with the appointment of William Duhnke – formerly of Senator Richard Shelby's [R-AL] staff – took over as Chief Accountant. Under Duhnke's leadership, the already-toothless watchdog was first neutered, then euthanized. Duhnke fired all four heads of the PCAOB's main division and then left their seats vacant for 18 months. He slashed the agency's budget, "weakened inspection requirements and auditor independence policies, and disregarded obligations to hold Board meetings and publicize its agenda."

All that ended in 2021, when SEC chair Gary Gensler fired Duhnke and replaced him with Erica Williams, at the insistence of Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren. Within a year, Williams had issued 42 enforcement actions, the largest number since 2017, levying over $11m in sanctions:

https://www.dlapiper.com/en/insights/publications/2023/01/pcaob-sets-aggressive-agenda-for-2023-what-to-expect-as-agency-enforcement-expands

She was just getting warmed up: last year, PCAOB collected $20m in fines, with five cases seeing fines in excess of $2m each, a record:

https://www.dlapiper.com/en/insights/publications/2024/01/pcaobs-enforcement-and-standard-setting-rev-up-what-to-expect-in-2024

Williams isn't shy about condemning the Big Four, publicly sounding the alarm that 40% of the 2022 audits the PCAOB reviewed were deficient, up from 34% in 2021 and 29% in 2020:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/we-audit-the-auditors-and-we-found-trouble-accountability-capital-markets-c5587f05

Under Williams, the PCAOB has enacted new, muscular rules on lead auditors' duties, and they're now consulting on a rule that will make audit inspections much faster, shortening the documentation period from 45 days to 14:

https://tax.thomsonreuters.com/news/pcaob-rulemaking-could-lead-to-more-timely-issuance-of-audit-inspection-reports/

Williams is no fire-breathing leftist. She's an alum of the SEC and a BigLaw firm, creating modest, obvious technical improvements to a key system that capitalism requires for its orderly functioning. Moreover, she is competent, able to craft regulations that are effective and enforceable. This has been a motif within the Biden administration:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

But though these improvements are decidedly moderate, they are grounded in a truly radical break from business-as-usual in the age of monopoly auditors. It's a transition from self-regulation to regulation. As @40_Years on Twitter so aptly put it: "Self regulation is to regulation as self-importance is to importance":

https://twitter.com/40_Years/status/1750025605465178260

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28 - THIS SUNDAY!) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/26/noclar-war/#millionaire-on-billionaire-violence

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image: Sam Valadi (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/132084522@N05/17086570218/

Disco Dan (modified)

https://www.flickr.com/photos/danhogbenspics/8318883471/

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

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