#But I think especially in the days of pocket computers most people do look things up - at least sometimes

[stevishabitat]

👆👆👆

There's a whole demographic of people who are profoundly incurious and just assume everyone else is too, so when they see something unfamiliar they immediately rush to declare that not only have they never heard of it, none of you did either. You're just pretending. You had to look it up, don't lie. You didn't know this

And like, so what if someone had to look something up. That's how you learn new things. People usually say this about knowledge that's pretty damn basic, but I can't get over how they're not only scornful at the idea of people trying to learn something new, they casually assume everyone else is, too

[scary-lasagna]

Could I request some lore headcanons for the proxies and their relationships with each other? :] Take care of yourself and drink water!

me, who only drinks carbonated water and grapefruit juice :sunglasses:

I'll keep it brief since it can get lengthy

Tim

Tim is the leader.

He's the responsible one of the group, and is always looking out for others more than himself.

He has a nasty habit of just charging in headfirst when it's only him on the line.

So, his sense of self-preservation is awfully skewed.

But he loves his friends, and them as a whole team. He's just proud of how well they all keep each other in check.

And if they ever need advice, Tim is always the one to go to considering how bluntly he'll dish advice.

Brian

Brian is Dad #2

He's like the boring parent who ensures you're always safe if you're doing something stupid.

But there's no learning experience unless you get hurt sometimes, so he'll let the others choose for themselves.

Brian is also the primary medic of the proxies and deals with any on-field injuries. He learned everything from EJ and they're pretty good acquaintces.

Brian is always checking in on everyone, wanting to know how they're doing mentally and to talk if they need a shoulder to lean on.

He's the most trustworthy one of the proxies.

Toby

Toby is the (lovingly) stupid younger brother everyone must look out for.

Despite living well into his 20s, he still hasn't quite grasped how to navigate everything with CIPA and neurodivergence.

He'll make impulsive decisions, like diving over an open flame, nearly sending Brian into cardiac arrest because he does NOT know how to handle 3rd degree without the proper tools.

And Toby is assigned the role of a Scout, meaning he's always in front.

This is good and bad, but mostly good, considering he can't wander off and shove things in his pockets.

(He's found a lovely way to work around this, of course).

Kate

Kate only pretends she hates everyone.

If it really came down to it, she would take a bullet for any of these idiots.

Toby especially loves to annoy her until she starts yelling at him, and then he has the audacity to get upset.

Kate is hot on her feet, and the fastest out of everyone, being a chaser.

But she's also terribly hot headed, and quick to jump to conclusions which can lead to tension between her and everyone.

So, she distances herself, because that's what she feels is safe.

The only one that can relatively get through to her is Clock.

She holds Clock in a really high regard, whether it's because Clock beat her ass the first day they met, or because she thinks she's pretty, no one will know.

Clock

Like Brian, she's quite level-headed.

She's the most cautious one, and will usually stay toward the back of the group.

Clock might be the only one to think all of the different outcomes through if given enough time, but if she has to make a quick decision, it never ends well.

She panics easily, not out of fear, but because her brain just doesn't compute quick-time-events.

She's close with Kate and Toby, and sometimes Brian, depending on the day.

Toby had the biggest crush on her when she first arrived, but she shut him down, letting him know that he's probably going through a trauma response of latching onto people.

Toby thought long and hard after that (in tears).

And then he gifted her a little goldfish as a peace offering, to which she still has to this day.

[creamycreamyun]

Weight of Tomorrow

CONTENT WARNING: The following Story involves very mature Themes: - Depression and mental health related issues - Su1c1d3 - Car Crashes - Medical issues - Strong Language - Sexual Scenes; Viewer discretion is advised; this story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental.

I reach into my pocket, and what do I find? An old photo of me and Julia. Ever since the accident, I've had these overwhelming bursts of sadness. Sometimes it feels like life without her is completely devoid of purpose. She was my soulmate; I will never find anyone like her again. I've contemplated suicide occasionally, though these thoughts were merely ideas. I'd never have the balls to actually do it — besides, I am scared of death. Julia wouldn't want this for me. She was the most cheerful person I've ever met. Sure, there were times she was also sad and felt hopeless — especially after the diagnosis. But even during that time, she never failed to smile. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if it had been me who got caught by the truck instead of her. What if I hadn't drunk that night and had been the one driving? What if she had survived instead of me? Would she still be the same cheerful person I had come to love? Or would she be in the same position as me? Depression is a bitch. There’s a clear difference between people like Julia and these pseudo-life gurus who say, "Oh, but have you tried to smile more?" She wouldn't comfort me with words, but with her presence. Whenever the looming shadow of depression was crippling in this trashcan of my brain, she'd recognize my condition by the look on my face. She'd see me sitting in front of my computer, grab a blanket, put the second office chair beside me, and cover us both with the blanket, leaning her head against my shoulder while I continued working. I've never been much of a verbal guy. Growing up in a family that basically hammered into my head that showing signs of sadness as a man would only make me look weak, I had acquired the skill of hiding my emotions. But Julia was special in that regard; she'd look right through my facade. Back when we first met, I was pretty held back by her ability to read me like a book, because it almost felt invasive. As we grew closer, though, I slowly opened up to her. My childhood friend, who I had known since kindergarten, held the view that "If you open up to women, they will use your emotions against you." But I always disagreed with him. Sure, there are definitely people out there who will do that without skipping a heartbeat, but deep down, I knew Julia was different. I am tired. Tired of all these people telling me what to do or what to believe in. Tired of the constant cycle of nothing. I hate this world and everything in it. I hate the people, I hate the government, and most importantly, I hate myself. Whenever I think about her, the first thing that comes to mind is how she always told me to never give up, no matter the circumstances. I firmly believe that she'd do the same now, as I am writing this. The days have been dragging on. Whenever I get up in the morning, there's this sense of meaninglessness that I can't help but think about. What the fuck do I even get up for anymore? To go to work? To earn enough money so I don't fucking starve to death, just to go back to sleep and repeat the cycle all over again? This feeling is so overwhelming that sometimes I don't even find the motivation to get into my car and drive to work.Because of the bastard of my boss, who constantly criticizes me for things I have no control over. So what if the customer is angry because the proportions of the piece are not within 0.05 mm, even though they specifically ordered it knowing our factory is not capable of such precision? I took this week off from work. I called in sick, went to the doctor, and told him about my depression hitting hard again. He wrote me a notice because of borderline and gave me a referral for another therapist.

Even through my mental struggles, I like to think that I achieved a fair bit in my life. When I was young, after my training at a large automotive company that produces gearboxes for cars, I immediately applied for technician school while still working full-time. I wouldn't have made it without my friends, to be honest, but I still like to give credit to myself. However, this weight of working full-time while still applying for a technical certification left a mark behind. This was the point in my life where I met her. She was just sitting there, trying to figure out how the vending machine worked. I noticed her struggle and went to help her. She only wanted to get a milk coffee, but gluten-free. The machine gave contradictory instructions. Since I've always been pretty efficient at figuring out how shit works, without having much background knowledge of the system I'm working on, I quickly figured out how to make the machine give her what she wanted. I briefly mentioned the company I work for, and she told me that it's the same company her brother works at. We started talking a bit more before I had to leave, but we exchanged numbers. We kept in contact and noticed that we had quite a few interests in common. Due to my limited free time, we could only meet up once every few weeks, but every time we met, it was special, and we grew a little closer. One night, we even ended up at my place. It was a good night; even some you-know-what action was involved both at night and in the morning. But afterwards, when we got up, she was freaked out when she consciously realized what my apartment actually looked like. She was obsessed with cleaning, to a point where it almost felt like a disorder. I can't stress this enough — we started cleaning my apartment after sex. This would become a regular point of dispute between us, even until our relationship met its tragic and abrupt end. However, at some point, the time for my exams started, and I had to fully focus on my certification. We still talked a lot, but the dates became fewer in between. Yet, we still felt the same. One night, I texted and told her about my true feelings of wanting a serious relationship with her, and luckily, she felt the same. We decided to take things slowly, but given this newfound confidence and knowledge about her true feelings for me, I was determined to make time for her, even when technician school was tough. And there I was, successfully resolving my exam, and with my technician degree in my hands, I could finally focus more on our relationship. It was like a dream come true. And she definitely helped me to not drift into a full-fledged burnout. When I got this very well-paid job at the company I still work for now, we found an affordable apartment in Dortmund and moved in together.

And with this came the first serious struggles. She criticized me over my obsession with work, or my chaotic structures, I criticized her over her obsession with perfectionism. If I took my socks off on the couch and leave them there till morning, she'd dramatically lead me towards the living room and ask me if I notice anything off. I would say:"Sorry, but I can't see anything wrong." "So you're not noticing anything, that doesn't belong here?" At this point I'd already known what she was referring to, but slightly annoyed, I'd play dumb. In retrospective, this wasn't really constructive, but I still wonder why it was such a huge problem for her.It's just a few socks — just pick them up and put them in the dirty laundry. Why would this be such a huge issue? This never really made sense to me. What's the difference between whether I put the socks away or she does? Leaving my socks at the couch doesn't mean that I don't love her for fuck's sake! But eventually, we figured it out. After this happened a few times, we'd sit down, cuddling each other and talking about our problems. Eventually I came to the conclusion that if it would make her happy for me to put the socks away, I'd do it. But I'd also need some help with it, so instead of hysterically making this into a huge thing, she would kindly remind me to put the socks away before going to bed, and I'd quietly comply. This was also a thing I dearly embraced about our relationship. Even with these little things, we always sought out to help each other with the things that bothered us about the other. Another Example was my Misophonia. She really had a habit of slurping and eating noisily, to which I always would react very ill. When we first met, this wasn't much of a problem, because she'd pay attention to not do this in public, but in our own 4 walls, this wouldn't apply. I once asked her that for such a perfectionist person, she's really eating like a wild animal. This always appeared paradox to me. But later, she really worked on not slurping like a goblin, which I really appreciated.

Around a year after we moved together, it started subtle. At first, I'd see her fidgeting in her pelvic region, as if she was in pain. One morning, she brushed it off, saying it was due to stress, an iron deficiency, or to other things. However, situations like this became much more regular. At one point, after sex, I noticed that she bled more than I would consider normal. I didn't think much of it, because she insisted that it was nothing, but later I saw her laptop on the couch table, and she had googled the symptoms. I confronted her and finally told her to see a doctor. She was the kind of person who didn't take medical conditions seriously, which was why she hesitated at first, but I explained to her that I've been noticing that she had been acting different lately, and ultimately she agreed to go to the doctor. We went to the doctors office together and after a few months of back and forth, visiting one institution after another, the final MRI result revealed that she had cervical cancer. We were – understandably – devastated. This especially came as a shock to her, because it had confirmed her suspicions that she profusely tried to play down. Immediately after the diagnosis, she stopped smoking. I've always had something against this habit, but because of my dad, I knew how hard it is to quit. This situation changed the sense of urgency however, but quitting smoking came with its own problems. She started to gain weight, and grew an abscess on her stomach. Although I still found her very attractive – it was only 5 kg after all, not a noticeable difference – it was sad to see her struggle with these medical conditions. We both suffered through this, and it wasn't easy. But during all this struggle, we still found comfort in each other. We'd cook together, do laundry together, and occasionally even work together whenever we were both working from home. Yes, of course, we always had our struggles, but overall, our relationship was pretty balanced. There was no point where we "hated" each other. At least, not that I remember. What was always most astonishing about her character was — though I've said it before — that she never lost her smile. She always kept a cheerful attitude, even with all of this.

We went to the club one night, looking for an escape from this fucking mess. The pulsating music and vibrant lights offered a brief reprieve, drowning out the worries that had been gnawing at us. I had a few drinks, feeling the familiar warmth of alcohol ease my tension and coax a smile to my face. Julia, ever the responsible one, decided she'd drive us home, insisting that I enjoy myself without concern. As we left the club, the night air felt crisp and alive, a strong contrast to the heaviness we carried inside. We laughed, reminiscing about the good times, and for a moment, everything felt right. But that fleeting sense of freedom shattered in an instant when the accident happened. A sudden crash jolted us, a deafening sound that swallowed our laughter and left a haunting silence in its wake. In that moment, everything changed, and my life would never be the same again. I woke up in the hospital, where I was brought the bitter news, that my beloved girlfriend didn't make it. After this traumatic event, and slowly recovering from my Injuries, they assigned me a professional therapist, who told me to write this shit down.

So here I am. Writing this shit down. I don't know how it goes from here. Julia, I love you, I always will.

[toinfinitywinning]

it’s been a Long time. Maybe I’ve been lazy. Not really. No offense but a daily blog kinda is like but have you slept since the last one? I know a lot can change in 24 hours though. But anyway I can’t think of anything better to do than to try to write about pain at the same time I’m experiencing my worst. Where, ibuprofen and Tylenol rebound and youre left with a parallel to someone taking antibiotics when they’re not needed over and over to where eventually just quit taking it. You’ve expired it, gone the opposite Way. But ain’t that a Bitch tho. Please help us.

At this point Covid took me hostage for potentially the rest of my Life. No hyperbole. For the Second time in about 10 days I have wept and wept in immense, indescribable Pain you only know if you’ve also experienced constant Chronic Pain. Hard crying helps take in some endorphins but then I get another Headache so it’s just all Fucked -that’s the word, the only appropriate word for my currency. And, the best endorphin in some cases. Carries its own presence. Idk if this writing is helpful or not LOL.

I certainly don’t write for pity. It is just the truth that any contact is exhausting and can cost me. From seeing my family? Working? Hiking? A roller coaster? Anything like what would gentry do? TBH idk what it’s costing right now b/c I’m already spent. Then I’m like that is the most selfish thing ever. Then I’m also like I have to be selfish some to stay sane. I write to Connect. I think I can count on like 5-7 fingers having cried like this.

Even after all the …stuff I’ve been through. Mom reminded me of the endorphins potentially available when you cry like that. How tragic we’re desperate enough at times to attach a good feeling to something so terrible while you’re crying trying to pocket some b/c there’s certainly no sunshine in the other one.. B/c Exercise or exertion aren’t options. In a sense I like give the computer sheet of paper my Pain and when I hit Post it should all Go away until it says successful. Then I close my iPad b/c my eyes hurt.

Like most people with a 180 life spin you’ve most likely not seen it coming—for me, Especially after conquering so much and finally being in a Good place and looking up up for the first time in a long time. I’m still mad about that. Angry really. It’s unfair but even my situation is in isolation. It’s possible somebody in Singapore is feeling the same Pain. Or I think I went too far, China. +, we are bonding over this!

It’s not just the positive interactions and experiences we find solace in. I can’t get through this alone and putting my pride aside has been a difficult task I’ve pretty much holstered. I’m not much for a Group Project ever b/c I usually End up doing it all anyway or sitting in a circle with toilet paper with adjectives but that all we’ve got in a sense. Most of us used to be able to say headache or Migraine and a few hours to 48 hours it’s usually passed. That was me. Every Day it’s just Deep in my bones. My bones that hurt. That cry out and are dry and dancing. Get me there.

Anyone is sure welcome to share their story. The loneliness that is already a different one might feel more insulated. And, I’m sorry, sorry you’re dealing with w/e it might be. That’s the circle of metal chairs you’ll probably only find in Baptist churches I should be looking for.

Can we have Faith without Faith in that? I thought I Left seminary. Ah geez.

I gotta Go.

[alchemiclee]

theres some people that are very against pirating anything like games, and I agree that it's good to pay creators for their work (especially as a creator myself) but sometimes these people that don't make sense to me. first of all, people that pirate things most likely would/could not pay for it to begin with. so nothing is being lost. but I can understand the argument there, and it's frustrating as a creator myself knowing people like to steal art and things people work hard on. so i get that. what I don't get is when it comes to old video games that haven't been sold anywhere for like 30 years

emulators are pretty easy to get online for old games. i've used them to replay games I had as a kid on my computer instead of trying to get the old Playstation to work. they're fine with that, if you own the game. but they'll often throw a fit about emulating a game you don't own and tell you to go on ebay or whatever to buy a copy of the game before you emulate it......because it....supports the creator....by paying some random middle age man on ebay who found the game in his late uncles basement and is now charging 20x the original price because he googled it and saw it's somewhat rare? I just dont see what the point is in those circumstances. if the company releases the games somewhere in modern time (like how Nintendo has a handful of old games for their online subscription thing on the switch) then sure, you're supporting the creator. but buying an expensive copy from some random nerd for over $100 when it originally cost $10 is dumb and pointless if you're not a collector. so I don't see the problem or argument against emulating those games without owning them.

an example, Playstation used to have demo discs. I played a few games on those I loved, but they were never sold in stores that I could find. I had my parents look everywhere. so I never got to play the full version until emulators! some are pretty rare. and you have to pay over $100 to get one off ebay. i'm not giving that much money to some random person just to play an old weird game I never found in stores as a kid. paying that much to a random "collector" on the internet won't do anything for the creators of this game. it will just put money in that random's pocket. so I'd rather emulated it and played through the game once and be done.

I did this with the game called Tomba like years back. it was only sold on ebay for like $125+ it was kinda fun, but don't think I even finished it. not worth that much AT ALL lmao (out if curiosity, i looked it up and there is actually a newly added "special edition" one sold for a limited time and seems to be in steam now? so if i ever feel like finishing it one day, i will buy it there, but thats not the case for other games ive googled from childhood demos) if you think I am required to pay that much and own an old game that I can no longer buy from the company that made it in order to emulate it, you're being ridiculous. so how is pirating these old games, possibly from companies that don't even exist, anymore harming anyone? games that might never be remade or remastered or resold? it's not. ebay seller will still eventually get someone to buy their outrageously expensive resold game, and I get to enjoy a piece of my childhood without handing over an ridiculous amount of money to someone that won't give it back to the developers of the game anyway.

[jim-fetter-illustrations]

Smartphones are human beings first artificial intelligence.,... and now they own us!

Imagine life without a smartphone (cell phone).

Today, no one can imagine life without a smartphone. That’s because mobile technology has not only changed our world and our lives, but in some form we have become slaves to them.

I mean we see the anxiety which overcomes most people when the power goes out, even for a few minutes, and god forbid a day, 24 hours without one's cell phone and chaos would ensue.

When people forget to take their smartphone with them, it ruins their whole day, and we've seen this way too many times already,.........because every aspect of our lives depend on that little plastic gadget for everything we do these days........

We have this sense that we are losing contact with reality, resulting in panic when our smartphones aren't within a couple of feet from us.

When we’re not calling, texting, or even waiting for an important call, we are still gripping the phone tightly in our hand, almost like a crutch. Often, the phone absorbs so much of our focus and attention that we forget about others, we forget to connect with those around us - because we are staring at a screen in front of our face for most of our waking hours.

This brings us to an interesting question: Would you be able to survive a few hours, a day, a week - without a smartphone and the Internet?

These days, many people, especially young people, can't imagine life without a cell phone, or rather without a minicomputer with the Internet - because that's essentially what smartphones are today. Perhaps without smartphones they would not be able to do so many things! For instance, some individuals might think that it is not worth stopping to talk to a stranger, to ask for directions, since a smartphone comes with a GPS application. Why involve another person in our daily life struggles, when a mini computer can assist us in finding our way.

Isn't that what artificial intelligence is,...... a computer system able to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence, such as visual perception, speech recognition and decision-making?!?!

It's like having a super-brain in a box you just confide in for everything.

If you’re like me, you might remember the world before mobile phones and the Internet? It's hard to believe that people didn't always have phones in their pockets. That's why pay phones were so important. And even before that, there were telephone operators who would facilitate long-distance and international calls.

These days, it is not uncommon to see the whole family looking at their smartphones instead of talking to each other. Often even at the Christmas dinner table.

Smartphones allow us to communicate quickly and effectively with anyone, anywhere in the world, in a way, it also takes away our ability to have a meaningful conversation. The type of conversation with eye contact and body language. The smartphone is present everywhere, and momentarily turning it off or leaving it at home can feel like part of us is missing?????

Lets face it, smartphones have become an addiction for many people, the blue light emitted by screens can interfere with our natural sleep patterns, making it harder to fall asleep and stay asleep. Additionally, constantly checking our phones before bedtime can cause anxiety and make it even more difficult to wind down. Using your smartphone as an alarm clock can also be problematic, as the temptation to check notifications and social media can make it harder to fall back asleep after being woken up.

Many people reading this post know exactly what I'm talking about.

How many people can actually endure a few days of a "digital detox," and live their life without a smartphone, social media or convenience apps?

Not many.

I use my cell phone (don't have a smartphone) the same way I used a landline phone, to make and receive calls, nothing else, don't go online with it at all, do texts with it rarely, I use it just like a landline and often leave it at home when I go grocery shopping or just out. I don't see it as a help, but more of a bothersome hindrance to have to take care of while it's in my pocket, as I don't want it to fall out and break as they usually do. I often go days without using my cell phone.

But that's just me I guess, and when the world ends I'll probably be the last to hear about it, which will give me more time to spend with my Cat,...... Lol

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[silenthillmutual]

Chestnut: 1-3 Frost: 12-14 Karol: 21 19 17

[imagining these three sharing a computer to answer questions is SO fun. baby in charge.]

Chestnut -

1. How would you best describe yourself?

happy! i am very happy and things do not make me sad a lot. when something scary happens i say no thank you and i walk away. i go and i look at a bug and i am happy because bugs are just little friends you can stick in your pocket and take everywhere! i am also short but one day i will not be as short. and then i can catch bugs when they are flying :]

2. What's your profession, and how skilled do you think you are at it?

right now i am a bug catcher but very soon aba says i will start school with ms. ravel and then i will be a student. sometimes aba says that i am a good bug catcher but not a good bug releaser because i try to keep as many bugs as i can. when i am old like aba and papa i want to study bugs and also maybe draw them. i think i would be very good at this because i am not scared of them. and then people can look at my pictures and they will know bugs are not scary!

3. Where do you live, and what is life like for you there?

i live in a house with my sister and my sister and my brother and my papa and my aba and our bull! except the bull does not live in the house because he would not fit. but he lives outside and we feed him apples and sometimes we all go to shekhen with him and see our family! it is nice to go there and see everyone and learn things from taya. we live in the town on gorkhon which is a river i am not allowed to go to because papa and aba get very scared. but aside from that i get to play with my siblings wherever and catch and keep bugs that papa helps me to care for and aba is teaching me about herbs! :]

Frost -

12. What was your childhood like?

My childhood was... very lonely. Not many people where I was raised. Especially after - they came. I suppose at one point in time I had a family. More than my mother.

Well. I suppose I would have been more than they could handle, anyway. It's rude to speak ill of the dead, but I tend to be too much for most people. They can only deal with my moods so long. So I left. And I'm still looking for something to fix me.

13. Is blood thicker than water, or would you rather wash yourself clean of it so-to-speak?

I could wash myself clean of it. It would be - so easy. What do I even know of my family? But that would only be a verbal renouncement. I can't un-become what I am. Whatever my allegiance, I am bound to my family by my blood. By our blood.

14. What’s your favorite animal?

I am fond of the pine martin.

Karol -

17. Are you more diurnal or nocturnal?

I would love to be a nocturnal creature. There's so much more work that can be done in the night, especially in palliative research. Unfortunately, I am cursed to be diurnal. I have attempted to change my sleeping habits in the past and found myself irritable. I suppose if it's for my damn mood, I can suffer through mornings.

19. What was your biggest mistake?

Moving to the city feels like a mistake sometimes. I could be doing something more useful with my life. I don't regret my decision to work for Thanatica. I believe we are doing important work. But who is taking care of my family while I'm gone? It's not as though we earn much in the way of money.

21. Does it feel like time and fate have always been against you?

What would Dankovsky say to this... I don't believe in anthropomorphising a concept such as time. It is a construct. We created it, and we can best it. And fate? Fate is a lazy man's excuse for failure. If I find myself incapable of meeting my goals, it is my own fault.

[troublcmakcrs]

     @multibg  〢  cont from here.

Even though they didn’t hang out often, Tweek always regarded Kyle as one of his better friends in elementary school.  It didn’t take much, just basic niceness and courtesy, which many other people couldn’t afford him.  He knows it’s wrong to refer to them as great friends currently, but seeing Kyle again, a swell of hope rises in his chest that maybe he can start on changing that.

Tweek returns Kyle’s hug more tentatively than he wants to, their sudden proximity making him self-conscious about the way he must smell.  He hopes the leftover fumes from Kyle’s cigarette will make it easy enough to ignore.  As much as Tweek always liked him, there was something uppity about him back in the day, too, and there exists a need to impress—or at least conceal some of the realities of his current situation, being that impressing is something of which he is not currently capable.

He bites his lip when their hug breaks, his mouth still smiling, but something troubled in his eyes as he tries to work out the safest way to phrase things.  “Fine—I’m fine, thank you,” he says, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets in case they start to shake.  “I moved out, so that’s pretty cool.  I’m staying with some friends right now.”  His eyes dart about, and he rushes through his words as if trying to get through the subject of himself as quickly as possible.

He had hoped Craig would not come up so immediately in the conversation, especially with it having been a number of years.  It was much worse back in the day, shortly after it happened, but he still gets it sometimes.  What happened with you and Craig?  Are you guys still together?  Why not?  When’s the last time you saw him?  People rarely regarded them as anything other than a unit, and sometimes, it worries him that he might never be anything other than ‘Craig’s boyfriend’—now, ‘Craig’s ex.’

Thankfully, Kyle doesn’t linger on the subject long, just touching on Craig’s mention of Tweek in passing.  “I’m glad you guys are getting along,” he says earnestly, widening his smile.  “I remember when you couldn’t stand each other.”  He laughs shakily, unsure why he’s becoming increasingly nervous.  “His fault, I’m sure—I tried to convince him you were chill, and he never wanted to hear it.”

He looks up at the Best Buy, seeking a subject that isn’t Craig or himself.  “Do you work here now?” he asks.  “That sounds like it’d be fun, being around keyboards and stuff all day.  I think that’s the most important thing about a computer, how the keyboard feels.”  Typing—maybe he can look into getting some administrative, clerical thing, although don’t a majority of them require college?  Oh, well, it still can’t hurt him to look.

[kyberphilosopher]

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man. 

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off. 

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men. 

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

 * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot. 

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried. 

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one. 

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point. 

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day. 

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man. 

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn. 

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering. 

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard. 

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above. 

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you. 

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible. 

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman. 

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath. 

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do. 

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks. 

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?” 

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something. 

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’. 

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch. 

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans. 

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even. 

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut. 

What’s wrong with you today? 

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again. 

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person. 

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark. 

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair. 

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins. 

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close. 

“When?” you question. 

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement. 

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine. 

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself. 

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half. 

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones. 

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response. 

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings. 

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused. 

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike. 

A man, as usual. 

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory. 

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will. 

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time. 

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand. 

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually. 

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment. 

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change. 

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all. 

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot. 

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank. 

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again. 

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all. 

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately. 

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth. 

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something. 

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last. 

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed. 

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away. 

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him. 

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around. 

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly. 

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly. 

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes. 

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time. 

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him. 

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl. 

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally. 

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it. 

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding. 

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject. 

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food. 

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat. 

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question. 

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond. 

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought. 

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible. 

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump. 

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one. 

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense. 

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend. 

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe. 

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt. 

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded. 

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help. 

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder. 

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes. 

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips. 

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly. 

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it. 

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building. 

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

That night, it rains. 

Thunder echoes, with  ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands. 

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes. 

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning. 

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it. 

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual. 

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think.  Please protect me. Please do this for me. 

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android. 

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are. 

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you. 

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now. 

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good. 

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor. 

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself. 

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes. 

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea. 

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators. 

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him. 

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy. 

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does. 

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying. 

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead. 

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second. 

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

[matan4il]

Fandom and disabilities

For a while now, I’ve been thinking I might talk about how socially isolating it has at times felt for me, being disabled on Tumblr.

So let me start by saying I have both physical issues, as well as anxiety and depression. And one of the nastiest things about them is how they interact. One physical issue can lead to another (a recent example, living with constant dizziness can cause one to fall and hit their face against the edge of the bathtub, which leads to even more problems), and then the mental health issues can drain a person from having the energy to do some of the things that might help a bit with the physical issues, while the physical problems in turn make things like the depression worse, in part because it IS depressing when your body is causing you so much suffering, and in part because one’s social world gets narrowed down when meeting with friends becomes so taxing. And when these problems are chronic, this is a cycle that there’s no breaking out of, just trying to live with it as best as possible.

You’d think fandom would be sort of a solution to this, right? ‘Coz fandom is like pocket friends that you don’t need to physically move around to meet. But I find that I’m constantly reminded of how limiting having disabilities is online, too. Yes, I don’t have to physically go anywhere to meet with online friends, but I still have to deal with stuff like constant dizziness and pains and fatigue in order to simply sit up by a computer and talk to people here. It still takes so much out of me, and yet because interacting online is generally seen as effortless, it feels like I’m still failing my friends, maybe to an even greater degree...

To give one example of something that seems simple, but isn’t to me: I see ask games and I wanna be a part of them, but I also know that in the past, when I did participate, it exhausted me. Those games DID make me happy! To send out asks with loving messages for my friends, to see my lovelies react with joy? It was amazing, I loved it so much! But it was also draining. At the same time, to not get those asks because I can’t send them back, to not be tagged in Tumblr games, it is disheartening and makes me feel like I’m on the outside looking in, knowing that even if people understand why I can’t play along, there’s no getting around it: when you interact with people more, you get closer to them. If you don’t, then...

Or how about content creation? It takes so much out of me (especially as I try to keep my medical appointments, which takes a lot out of me, as well as work, not to mention the occasional unavoidable adulting), but I’m still happy to do it! That’s kinda how I met most of my fandom friends, through content that somehow got us talking. But then, I know most creators on Tumblr have usertags to help them get their creations out there. That it’s also a part of how mutuals keep in touch and show each other support. But me, usertags give me anxiety. IDEK why, but they do. And I thought of maybe starting a tag list, but I know that I don’t always get notified when I’m tagged in a post. I was recently reminded of that because of an amazing person, who created this gorgeous fanart based on one of my fics. I was tagged in the post, but I didn’t get a notification about it. A mutual reblogged the post, and I happened to be around when the (queued) reblog got posted, so it was by chance that I saw it. Which means I’m not that sure a tag list is the solution either.

But then, let’s talk about reblogging other people’s creations! I used to reblog as well as tag other people’s creations, because I felt like this would be a nice way to show others support. And then mid 2021, stuff got so much worse for me. But I didn’t feel like I could just stop adding nice tags, what if people saw that those were gone, when just a few days before, when I was reblogging someone else, I was being complimentary? I hated the thought people might be offended. So at first I tried to go on putting time and effort into adding tags anyway. Then I saw I couldn’t, so I tried to at least leave one nice tag on each post. But as things kept getting worse, I finally came to the conclusion, I had to stop. At that point, simply making sure my queue would be full and I could step away from Tumblr for a long period of time without feeling like I completely stopped supporting other creators, that would have to do. I returned to Tumblr several months later, but I was still not doing that great. So I never got back to leaving complimentary tags on people’s posts, which I’m sad about. I really want to, not to mention, at the end of the day, the tags are one of the ways fandom communicates on Tumblr, not just with the creators, but I also remember some comments I left in the tags would open up interesting and fun dialogues...

Then there’s how little time I can spend online talking to fandom friends compared to what seems to be the average, seeing what’s new in the fandom, seeing other people’s posts and creations, as well as being caught up in whatever the recent big news is in fandom. Not having as much of all of these things can leave me with a sense of being left out.

Then there’s just this general fear of disappointing people and losing friendships without even knowing the exact reason why. Are people speaking to me less ‘coz I’m not able to reply as much and as often? Is it because they’re disappointed in me ‘coz they don’t feel I give back as much as I’m given? Is it ‘coz when I’m not around, they naturally talk to others way more, so their other connections become much stronger? Do they not understand some of my disabilities, how they limit me, and think I could be doing more and are upset with me over it, so they just pull away? Or is it maybe something else entirely, but it gets lost in the sea of possible reasons that are prominent in my mind? IDK. I can just say that it’s always disheartening, to feel like you’ve lost someone who, if you were just healthier, you believe you could have continued a beautiful friendship with.

So why am I writing this? I’m not even sure. I can’t say, “I wanted people to be aware of what it’s like for people with disabilities in fandom,” because that refers to a huge group of people, with a huge and diverse range of experiences regarding what they’re dealing with and how it shapes their online experiences, what’s difficult for them, what might help them... I guess I just wanted to speak about my sense of how my disabilities affect my online social experiences in fandom because I’ve never seen any other post addressing this specific aspect of being disabled in online fandoms. So maybe this would resonate with some people. Or maybe, for my friends, this would just... be something to know. Know that I love you and support you and would talk to you so much more often if I could. Know that it means the world to me when you reblog something and add nice stuff in the tags, ‘coz even if I can’t reply, it feels like a line of communication that remains open against all odds and through which you make me so happy whenever you generously allow me to feel like I have something to offer and contribute despite my many challenges, know that when you tag me in a Tumblr game, or send me an ask game, it means a lot even during those times when I want but can’t respond. If I am somehow failing you, please believe that it’s in spite of my best efforts, not because I don’t care. And maybe talk to me about how you’re feeling? Maybe we can figure out something so you don’t feel that way. Maybe we won’t be able to, but at least we’d both know we care and that matters, too. Yeah, maybe that’s the most important part, just know I love you, I treasure you, and I’m doing my best. xoxox

[faceachefics]

The Main 5 x S/O Who Gives Them Random Items

A/N: Got this idea when I found a feather outside and I kinda wanted to give it to someone. I swear it’s always times I’m away from my computer when I actually come up with stuff to write about

Also to be more specific, the “random items” I’m referring to are things that you find outside on the ground or something. Or little things of yours that you don’t want anymore

Jason Voorhees

Doesn’t quite know how to feel about it at first. It doesn’t register to him right away that you’re doing it as a sign of affection. He’ll receive your gifts and think ‘Oh, this is nice... What is it?’

Near the campsites, you’ll find some charms and knickknacks hidden in the grass, or under some leaves. There’s also unique rocks and shells you can find in the lake

“I saw this and it reminded me of you, so you can have it.” That’s when it clicks for him. Everything you give him, even if it’s a blade of grass, will have so much more significance now

He keeps all your gifts in one spot in the cabin (under his bed most likely) to make sure he doesn’t lose them

Jason tries to scavenge items of his own. He’s especially attracted to wild flowers, and anything heart shaped. You’ve already given so much, so he feels the need to return the favor

Michael Myers

Not a sentimental person

When you put a little doodad in this hand, he’ll slowly look down at it, and then stare at you. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

If it’s not something you previously owned, he’s likely gonna throw it away. Especially when it’s something you found outside

Plus the only reason your possessions would be of any interest to him would be his obsession with you. At that point he would’ve already been stealing your items and stashing them in his pockets or somewhere else hidden in your home

Once he’s gotten to that point, he’ll be giving you jewelry he swiped from the people he killed that night. He expects you to wear it, even with blood splattered on it. It’s uh,, it’s the thought that counts  ?

Bubba Sawyer

Actually the only one out of the main 5 who automatically understands what you’re doing and will be thrilled. In fact, one of the first things he did to establish himself as Not A Threat to you was by giving you random stuff like wild daisies or acorns

If you find him flowers, clovers, and/or feathers, he’ll want you to put them in his hair. Call him a “pretty boy” afterward to make him feel extra special

He also likes when you give him shiny things you find by the road

He’s pretty unorganized when it comes to placing your gifts. He’ll put them in random places and then forget about them, and then eventually lose them

If he brings you something you can wear, he’ll put it on you and start dancing with you. Though be warned: many of the wearable things he gives you will have animal and/or human bones

Norman Bates

An odd habit, but he doesn’t pay any mind to that. He has a few quirky hobbies as well

He also stashes your gifts away, but he has them organized in drawers. They go within any of the 3 categories: Nature, Jewelry, and Miscellaneous

Will be honored if you gave him something of yours. No matter what it is, he’ll find a way to wear it or carry it around with him throughout the day

His favorite gifts are feathers. He likes how soft they are, and he knows quite a bit about birds. He’ll probably be able to tell you where the feather is from if you give it to him

He’ll also pick up on your habit. There have been times where you’re on a walk together, you both see the same thing, and you reach over to pick it up at the same time

Ash Williams

“What’cha got for me, babe?”

You show him something you found outside like a rock or a clover. He’ll accept it while also joking about it, but in all seriousness he’s gonna be really confused. He still keeps your stuff on his nightstand or in a box anyway

He especially likes keychains, even if they’re old and scratched up. He wears them on his belt loops when he’s not actively hunting Deadites

Doesn’t entirely understand it, but he accepts your gifts anyway. He tries not to lose them but he does,, like a LOT. He feels bad for it every time

While you’re traveling together, he’ll buy you little souvenirs at gift shops. Typically it’s something that has the state name on it, or other related items

[sukirichi]

pink hearts

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away.

PAIRINGS. itadori jin x reader

WC. 10.7k+

NOTES. this fic is purely self indulgent, not requested, i wrote this for me so reader is mostly...well, me. okay listen I KNOW toji is the choice dilf but PLEASE daddy jin has my heart and i’m so soft for him like you guys don’t understand. this is my comfort fic now and jin’s made his way on my comfort character list, give this amazing man a chance, he’s amazing and so kind eeeee my heart is going to burst i love him so much lol + oh this is unedited as usual

masterlist !

The pink-haired man sat across from you, setting down the tray of two coffee mugs on the coffee table before you. He was of regular build, mostly on the lanky side, and his kind eyes peered behind glasses as he smiled at you. “So you’re the babysitter Mr. Gojo recommended?”

You stared at him. Shamelessly. 

Suddenly, your initial plan of impressing your employer by wearing a tight pencil skirt and an old white blouse after the assumption that they would be prissy and had way too much money on their hands felt useless. 

This guy wore a cream sweatshirt and black slacks, clearly happy and comfortable in his own home.

Upon being the subject of your stare, he only smiled awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of himself as he cleared his throat to let you speak.

“Oh!” you suddenly sat up straight, “Yes, yes I am. I’m sorry for staring. I just think you’d be this...young.” And modest.

“I understand. You’re in university, correct?” you nodded, leaning back in his seat, hand scratching the back of his head. His cheeks tinged a slight pink. “And you’re a close friend of Satoru’s, well...It’s not that I don’t trust his judgment or anything, but it’s my first time being a parent – and I’m a single dad, at that – so I hope you don’t mind that I’d like to see how you get along with my son first before I hire you.”

“Oh yeah, no, that’s perfectly fine!”

Satisfied with your answer, Mr. Itadori stood up with a bow, silently gesturing you to follow him down his hall. “Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with, or anything you don’t know much about? Changing diapers, giving the teething products, anything?”

“I’m the eldest in the family, four more hellish sun drops following afterwards. I think I’m good.”

He nodded at your answer, a small smile on his face. “That’s good to know. My last babysitter was the same age as you, but he didn’t know much about handling babies. I mean, neither do I, but a man’s got to learn, you know?” he laughed at himself, unaware that with each passing second, pink heart eyes gazed up at him admirably.

When you both reached a door that was left slighty open, Mr. Itadori lit up, bending down in front of a crib where his baby laid, small hands clutching at his feet. “Yuuji, baby, Daddy’s here. Are you ready to meet your babysitter?”

Your jaw dropped when he finally picked his baby up, the little boy clad in a tiger onesie and sucking on a toy. “Oh my gosh, you’re so adorable, come here!” you were more than glad when his dad laughed and gently passed the baby to you, who only gurgled in laughter when you cooed at him. “Oh, I want to spoil you and give you kisses, how are you this cute?” Well, it made sense he was cute, since his dad was as well. Yuuji made grabby hands at you, to which you happily obliged, leaning down so his tiny fingers could pinck your cheeks.

Unable to help it, you rubbed your cheeks on his touch, making the little boy clap his feet together, eyes bright with all the happiness and innocence in this world. You honestly wanted to cry right then and there.

“Your hands are soooo tiny, my goodness, I love you already! It’s so nice to meet you, Yuuji, you’re such an angel!”

“You like kids, huh?”

“Well, not so much with kids because toddlers have too much energy, but babies,” you gasped once you heard Mr. Itadori’s muffled laughter, greeted by the sight of him hiding his mouth behind his palm. Instantly, you smiled at him nervously, clutching the baby closer to yourself because he was so darn cute.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry if I’m being weird right now, I can’t help it! Your son is so precious!”

“Thank you. He’s the greatest blessing of my life too,” he beamed, turning to his baby with that soft look in his eyes that parents wore so well. “Well, it seems Yuuji really likes you. He’s friendly to everyone but...I’m surprised he’s warmed up to you this fast,” Mr. Itadori bent over to poke his cheek, the baby’s tiny hand wrapping around his dad’s finger. “Yuuji~ don’t forget I’m still your dad, okay? She’s the babysitter – she’s not your mom so don’t be too clingy, alright?”

You stiffened at his words, your eyes flickering back and forth between the baby and him. They had the same eye and hair colour, along with that aura of kindness surrounding them...it was hard to imagine what the mother would be like. Was she as bright and adorable too?

If yes, then this was an entire family of pink hearted strawberries!

“If...if it’s not too much to ask, may I ask where his mom is?”

Much to your surprise, his eyes grew forlorn, though the smile remained on his face. “His mom...is in a much happier place now,” was all he said – and it was enough – that you couldn’t dare ask more.

Mr. Itadori walked out of Yuuji’s room and into the kitchen afterwards, eyes squinting over the neat handwriting on a sticky note on his refrigerator. “Okay, so, I don’t know if Satoru’s told you, but I’m an engineer. I usually just work from home, especially now that I’ve got a baby, but there are still days where I have to go the office for presentations and meetings. I can’t guarantee that the babysitting schedule will be permanent – is it alright if I call you whenever?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean, other than university, I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s good to hear! But wouldn’t this job get in the way of your studies?”

You shook your head, subconsciously pressing closer to the baby instead because he was just so warm and wouldn’t stop tugging at your collar. A part of you was also eager to get this job not only for the baby, but Mr. Itadori intrigued you as well. You knew it was wrong but you had to be honest with yourself, hiding this truth for him instead through a shaky smile.

“No, definitely not! I can just take my studies here – if you won’t mind, of course – and I promise I won’t litter or make a mess or anything. During babysitting hours, Yuuji will be more of a priority than my homework, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mr. Itadori hummed to himself, rubbing at his chin. “If that’s the case, then I suppose you’re free to use the study at the end of the hall. There’s a baby camera there that lets you see Yuuji in every room, but if he’s asleep, feel free to use it.”

“Oh wow,” you blinked back in surprise, gently rocking a gurgling Yuuji back and forth. “You didn’t have to do that so uhm, thank you, really, I promise I’ll take care of your son very well!”

“I can see why Satoru recommended you now,” he shook his head with a smile, moving over to the litter of dinosaur stickers onto another list. “Here is a list of the things Yuuji likes and doesn’t like. He’s mostly active in the afternoons when I’ll most likely get called for work, and he’s a mess by then. He really likes playing and cuddles, and he’ll also demand to be carried most of the time otherwise he’ll cry,” he paused as his eyes slid over to you, lips pursed in thought. “I know you’ll do great but...don’t spoil my son too much, okay? I just don’t want him to uh...think that you’re his parent or something. Yuuji gets easily attached like that. If he calls you ‘mama’...please tell me about it, okay?”

“Yes, of course. I know my place, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he raised in hands in surrender as he saw your eyes widen with fear. “Being a single parent is just hard, you know? I can’t help but always feel that maybe I won’t be enough for him, and as much as I can, I’d like to let my son he can rely on me at all times.”

“I think you’re a very great father,” you admitted rather shyly, “Your son is really lucky to have you as his parent. I can tell he’s going to be such a sweetheart.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” he placed a hand over his heart, then pulled out a business card from the back of his pocket. “Now, here’s my number and my work schedules. You don’t have to drop by during weekends since I’m always here, but I might need you every Wednesdays to Fridays. Can I have your class schedule as well? That way I know when’s the right time to text you if I need something,” Reaching into your bag that had a copy of your schedule, you handed it to him, the strawberry-haired man’s lips growing into a smile as he read over the content. “Well, what do you know? You study engineering too? Computer engineering?”

You winced, memories you’d rather not think of again resurfacing. “Please don’t call me a nerd. I’ve heard that enough already.”

“What’s wrong about being a nerd? I’ve always been a nerd too and I think I’m fine,” you swapped numbers after that, not even giving you enough time to recover from his comment. Not that being a nerd was a huge deal, but people always said it weirdly that you dreaded hat word. Hearing it from him though...it felt like a compliment. “Guess that settles it then. I’ll see you soon?”

Heart elated and spirits soaring into the sky that you actually got the job and the employer was a kind man, you nodded with a bright smile on your face. “Yeah, I’ll come by next week! Thank you so much for trusting me!”

“No, thank you for your service,” he responded back shyly, waving to you as you walked out the door. Not a few moments later, Mr. Itadori ran after you, his cheeks flushed pink from the shrot run. “Wait! Can I have my son back?”

Looking down at the baby in your arms who was too busy sucking on his thumb, your cheeks heated, extending your arms as gentle as you could while Mr. Itadori got his son back. He only laughed at your state, waving it off with a shake of his head. ���Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It just feels so natural to hold him!”

“You’ll be a good mother someday,” he commented almost absentmindedly. Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop bowing and apologizing with each step backwards, too distracted to notice that your heels dug into a small crack. You yelped as you felt the floor slip beneath you, Mr. Itadori’s instincts kicking in when he easily grabbed your wrist to pull you towards him, your foreheads almost knocking one another’s. “Whoa – watch your step. You could’ve fallen seriously there.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Itadori! I’ll try to be more graceful next time,” you bowed repeatedly, still so ashamed as you tugged your skirt down. “Why the hell did I wear heels anyway? It’s not like this is a law firm.”

“Please,” he smiled at you – and you swore in that moment that things were just going to be different – eyes closed and his whole face lit with light heartedness. “Call me Jin,” taking his son’s hands up, he waved the little arm as you walked out the door, still in a light trance of disbelief. “Say bye-bye, Yuuji!”

Even as you made it back to your bus stop, you still couldn’t get your mind off of the strawberry-haired father and son duo. Their home was just so...bright, you immediately felt safe and comfortable.

As your heart fluttered at the memory of Jin smiling at you, you placed a palm over your heart, willing it to calm down. That couldn’t be good, right?

“Earth to Y/N!”

You snapped back to life when your friend slapped you on the arm, smiling at her when she only huffed at your dazed out self again. It wasn’t irregular for you to space out like this, and you were more than thankful she was always there to bring you back to reality before you accidentally crossed a street when the lights were green or something.

“Sorry, what?”

“Do you know how many times we had to drag you away because you keep running into poles?” she rolled her eyes, “Sheesh, how would you survive without us? What are you spacing out for anyway?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about work and all.”

“Speaking of that, how’d the interview go? Was your employer as strict and condescending as the Zenins? The hell happened to those bastards anyway?” “I bet their child is going to grow up sexist or something.”

At the mention of Jin and his baby, your whole self lit up. “My employer is better this time around. He’s only a few years older than us; like five or seven, I think? He’s really nice too and dude, his baby is so. Freaking. Adorable,” you gushed, mimicking the gesture of rocking a baby around with your arms, eyes filled with heart-shaped characters. “Like a freaking strawberry in my arms! He’s so sweet too!”

“You and your attachment to babies,” she scrunched her nose in disgust – always having had an aversion to anyone younger than her. “I’ll never get it.”

“Babies are the best!”

“Yeah, until they drool and throw up on you,” as if the image procured in her mind, your friend shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her arm to relieve her goosebumps. “I never want to be a mom.”

“You’ll change your mind once you fall in love with someone who’s amazing enough to make you want to have a family on your own.”

“You talk about that as if you’ve met that someone already!”

“Maybe I have,” you giggled stupidly to yourself. Of course you weren’t thinking about Jin – you just knew deep in your heart you always wanted your own family. Growing up from a large family and getting separated from them, it was uncomfortable to not be surrounded by crying and squealing, which was always accompanied with laughter and kisses at the end of the day. Now who wouldn’t want that? You waved your hand to your friend, trying to hide the apparent gushing behind your voice. “I’m just kidding. I just really love babies.”

“Whatever,” she closed the topic, and you didn’t protest, knowing full well your friend cringed at the mention of babies or children. “So are you coming to our study group tonight?”

“Can’t. Got work,” you shrugged, a light skip in your steps as you both walked to the campus. Thankfully, she mistook your enthusiasm with the excitement of getting to hang out with babies again, which was true, but something about meeting Jin again and possibly getting to know more about the sweet father was a huge cherry on top – one your friend didn’t have to know about.

“Shame. I heard that hot guy from Biology was coming too.”

“Fushiguro Toji? Wasn’t he scouted for the military?”

“Honestly, I’m more surprised he’s not a gangster,” she snorted, “But whatever. Text me when you get home safely, okay? If you don’t text within—”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Text you when I get on the bus stop, text you when I arrive at work, when I leave and when I’ve gotten home otherwise you’re calling the cops to report me missing or abused,” you stood up straight for a mock salute, brows furrowed in faux seriousness. “I know, ma’am. That’s drilled in my head already.”

“I’m serious. The world is a dangerous place!”

“Yes, I’ll text you!”

Wednesdays couldn’t come sooner. But when it did, you were far too excited. You’d never tell anyone you took the extra time to fix your hair and spritz on just a tinge of perfume, not wanting to overwhelm the baby.

You shot up from your seat right after class ended, hair flying in the wind as you bolted to the bus stop. Wiping away the sweat on your forehead and fixing your clothes with a pat of your hand, you took a deep breath, chanting inner mantras that today would be a good at work. You’d be contributing to society by caring for a child that would soon be the light of the future, and you were more than honoured. Clearing your throat, you pressed on the bell, humming to yourself as you heard the light patters of footsteps inside.

“Hey, you’re here!” Jin smiled at you, one you reciprocated wholeheartedly, and he opened the door wider while you took off your shoes.

He was still dressed in his sweatpants and a white shirt, looking utterly domestic and different from your previous employers that would glare at you if you touched their kid without sanitizing your hand twice first. Jin was like a breath of fresh air to you – one you breathed in with glee while you followed him inside.

His house was kept neat and clean, surprising you even more at just how immaculate to detail he could be despite his busy schedule. Was it because he was an adult or a parent now that people his age were just more organized and put together?

Whatever it was, you trailed around Jin like a puppy, eager to learn from his ways.

“I told myself I’d only ask you to come around if I’m away for work but I’m working on a huge project and my client is very demanding. He’s asking me to pass it this week already and he just sent me his plans last night.”

“It’s okay...Jin,” you stuttered over calling him by his first name like that, “You can focus on your work. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Thank you! Yuuji’s in his room, by the way. He’s just had dinner so he’s still energetic – you can pull up the cartoons and lounge in the living room. He’ll be fine,” he opened his mouth to say something else when his gaze darted to your book bag, eyes widening. “Oh wait, you brought your schoolwork—”

“I’m good! I’ve already finished them during my spare time! I promise you really don’t have anything to worry about!”

“Oh, that’s cool, I guess,” he calmed down at your words, scratching the back of his ear before gesturing to his door. “Well, I’ll be in my room if you need me. I get really occupied and focused though, so just open the door if I don’t open it right away.”

“Noted,” You wasted no time in picking up Yuuji from his crib afterwards. It seemed the little man didn’t quite like being imprisoned like that because he was babbling nonsensically, fists banging on the edges.

Upon seeing you enter his room, Yuuji’s babbles got louder, small chubby arms reaching out to your extended ones. His pacifier fell inside his crib as he pouted at you, and how could you resist? Soon, you were happily nestled onto the couch on the living room, his favourite cartoons playing on the background.

His head swayed side to side as the songs came along, while you watched him with tiny giggles. You wondered if maybe your first day at work would be eventless like this.

You really thought you’d run back and forth doing errands and changing diapers, but that was your old babysitting experience – things were obviously different with Jin and his son.

Yuuji was quiet, but Jin was right, he was clingy. Not an hour later into the show, he crawled to your sides and settled into your lap, tiny hands grabbing at your shirt. He sighed as his cheeks rested on your chest, though his eyes still glossed over the cartoon. You felt like your heart would burst at his affection, and you patted his back gently to lull him to sleep.

Eventually, Yuuji fell asleep. You hadn’t even noticed it was dark out already, the cartoons only playing through loop.

You scooped up Yuuji closer to your arms before shutting the TV off, making sure to be as quiet as you could be while you placed him back on his crib. Smiling at the angel, you patted his hair before leaving the room, knocking on Jin’s door at the end of the hallway instead.

When he didn’t respond after four knocks, you thought he’d fallen asleep until you remembered his note.

Shakily, you twisted the knob open, a small smile on your face when you saw him furiously sketching something on his paper. An empty cup of coffee laid beside his table, eraser shavings everywhere. His room smelled like soft laundry detergent with the faint aroma of white caramel coffee – smooth and sweet like him – and it felt almost wrong to be in such a space that was clearly so intimate of him.

Not wanting to disturb too much, you cleared you peered from behind the door sheepishly. “...Jin? Oh. Hello.”

“Hey,” he blinked at you then rubbed his eyes, staring at you for a solid minute before his mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape. “Is everything okay? Yuuji didn’t destroy something, did he?”

“No, he’s fast asleep. I just came here to say I’ll be going home now. It’s past midnight already.”

“It’s that late?” Jin glanced at his wristwatch and adjusted his glasses, fingers swiping up to retrieve his keys as he wore his coat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stay this late, and you have school tomorrow too,” he groaned tiredly, though the apologetic smile on his face easily concealed his exhaustion. “I’m really sorry I lost track of time. Come, I’ll drive you home, it’s not safe this dark out.”

“But Jin,” you froze in his hallway, “What about Yuuji?”

“Do you live far from here?”

“No, the dorms are like five minutes away,” Jin pondered about this information, possibly hesitating that maybe it wasn’t his best to leave his son alone. You appreciated the thought, you really did, but you were worried for Yuuji too so you smiled at him, nodding to assure that he didn’t have to. “Jin, it’s okay, I can just take the bus. I’ve been doing that for a long time now and I’m really okay.”

Jin clutched at his keys, the frown on his face evident. “At least let me walk you to the bus stop? So I know you’re safe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess.”

“Let me just get extra covers for Yuuji. It might be cold tonight,” You waited until he came out with Yuuji warmly bundled up in his arms. The two of you walked side by side, baby Yuuji fast asleep in his arms with his head covered in a small cap. You blushed at the thought that maybe people would think you looked like a family, but before these foolish imaginations could consume you, Jin beat you to it. “I haven’t thanked you properly for today, by the way. Let me make it up to you sometime – you look really tired.”

You flushed deep at his words, shaking your hands in front of you. “Oh no, it’s fine, really! I’m just doing my job.”

“Yes, but caring for someone else’s child – whether you’re paid or not – is still a very selfless act and I can’t thank you enough for it.”

You looked away from how warm his smile was despite the biting chill of the night, turning away to bury your chin in your neck instead. “You really don’t have to do anything. I’m just happy to help.”

“If you insist then,” Jin waved at you as much as he could without waking his son up as you hopped onto the bus, with you watching from the inside. “Get home safely! Text me when you’re home!”

“I will,” you mouthed through the window.

Jin and Yuuji disappeared from your sight after that. All the way back home, the warmth and butterflies swarming your stomach wouldn’t disappear. Even as you flopped on your bed, you still kept tossing and turning, the bright light of your screen glaring at you to just send the darned text already.

Hey...or maybe hello? He’s older though... How do older people even text each other? He wasn’t that much older, but still...it kind of felt inappropriate to address him too casually.

Deciding to just screw it, you pressed backspace and settled for the most boring text, hitting send and flattening on the bed with a groan. Who knew texting someone could be that mind-boggling? Sweat beaded at your forehead as you stared at the plain I’m home, sleep about to take over when your phone buzzed afterwards.

I’m glad to know you’re safe. Sleep well, Y/N.

Looking over at your slumbering roommate, you grabbed a pillow to bite it and muffle your screams, legs flailing beneath you as you read his text over and over again. It wasn’t even that special, but Jin had wished you well – the hardworking and sweet Jin – sending your heart into overdrive.

Your roommate didn’t stir one bit even as you giggled to yourself, punching the bed while you replayed the image of his smile, the feeling of how warm he was walking close to you like that and the sound of his soothing voice that just messed with you on the insides.

God, you had it bad – and yet, why did it feel so good?

Babysitting had never been more fun. Even though the task was no longer new for you, you looked forward to working every single day. Your friends noticed your change in moods, but just downed it to the fact you were generally a cheerful person anyway and didn’t bother asking why, which you were thankful for because it wasn’t easy to admit it out loud you liked Itadori Jin, of all people.

Now that you looked back onto it, he wasn’t that special.

He was definitely the type of guy you easily overlooked in a train, but he would also be the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to give up his seat for someone else. It wasn’t like he was utterly interesting too since like you, his life was a bland routine of taking care of babies, working, holing up in his room to create something, drinking coffee as sweet and light as possible, then calling it a day and sleeping with a huge smile on their face, just thankful for another day.

Yes, he was simple. Yes, he might even be boring, but gosh, you had never liked someone so much.

You summed it down to him being kind and loving. Yes, that was all it was. While your friends flocked over to mysterious, dark guys like Fushiguro Toji and his friends, gossiping non-stop on how he supposedly had a hotter younger relative but were a lot shittier than he was, you were different. You were simple.

You liked soft, quiet guys who enjoyed the soft pit-patters of rain, the types of people who spent too much time in the library travelling across galaxies in their seat, and overall, you liked peaceful souls.

Jin was everything you ever admired – stable, simple, kind, affectionate. It was clear from how he was never shy to shower his baby with kisses and feed him with airplane spoons, using a small voice to baby talk his son. Every time you came around, you immediately felt welcomed into their happy home despite the lack of a maternal figure, and you found yourself wanting to be there a lot more often than you should.

It seemed that the heaven heard your prayers when your phone rang. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed at your blaring phone, eyes wide when you read the contact name.

“Hello? Jin, what’s wrong?” Yuuji was crying in the background, accompanied with his father’s constant shushing and worried cooing.

“H-hi, I’m really sorry to bother you, I know it’s late, it’s just Yuuji won’t stop crying and my neighbours are mad at me because I can’t get him to calm down,” as if on cue, Yuuji only wailed louder. You could hear Jin’s desperate pleas for him to quiet down a little, with you dashing out of your bed and slinging your arms inside your coat. “Could you please come over? I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way,” was all you said before hanging up. Minutes later, you’d entered their apartment thanks to the spare key Jin gave you, heart breaking as Yuuji’s wailings only got louder.

Jin’s shoulders visibly relaxed when you scooped his son into your arms, rocking back and forth as you pressed a palm flat on his forehead. He didn’t seem to be feverish or even warmer than usual, but he was definitely irritated, pushing away at your hands that laid on him.

“Yuuji, baby! What’s wrong, sweetheart? Something hurt anywhere?” you turned to Jin, “Is his diaper full?”

“I just checked, he didn’t poop,” Jin nibbled at his thumbnails, a quirk you didn’t expect he’d have with his seemingly put-together composed self. His son’s crying must’ve really bothered him because Jin wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, Yuuji’s newly cleaned pacifier clenched between his fingers. “I gave him the teething rings too but he just dumped them to the side.”

Nodding, you tried poking at Yuuji’s stomach. The baby belly that should’ve been squishy was firm against your finger, the imaginary light bulb in your head going off.

“His stomach is a little tight. I think he’s got gas,” you informed Jin with a relieved smile, glad that it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. “We need to make him burp,” Patting at Yuuji’s back while Jin gently massaged Yuuji’s belly, prompting the boy to wail louder with his tiny arms banging both your chest, a big burp was finally released.

“Oh my gosh, he’s still crying.”

“It’s okay, Jin, he’ll be fine,” you reassured, smiling wide at baby Yuuji even though he couldn’t focus on you. “That’s right, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Just burp a little more and it won’t hurt so bad. It’s just gas, sweetie, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“B-but the neighbours...”

“Don’t mind them,” You didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh, but who could blame you? Yuuji was clearly in distress; the last thing you cared about was pleasing others. “They can plug in earbuds for all I care. Yuuji needs help,” at your words, Jin swallowed, resuming his ministrations of encouraging his son to burp.

Yuuji stilled for a moment before he resumed his crying. This time around, Jin was a lot calmer and focused as his hands rubbed at his son’s stomach. The burps came constant afterwards until Yuuji had enough, turning away from his father and burying his head on your chest. Small hiccups followed, but he’d calmed down, eyes shut tight from the previous discomfort.

“Are you feeling better now, baby? Tummy ache is gone?”

“He’s...not crying anymore...” Jin murmured in disbelief, his hands hovering above Yuuji’s belly.

“He’s still really red, though,” you frowned, hands brushing his bangs away from his forehead. It didn’t take long before Yuuji settled in, thumbs sucked into his mouth. Little whimpers could still be heard from the little guy, though nothing serious happened. You and Jin both sighed in relief. “I think he’s tired from crying. I’m going to go rock him for a bit,” Eyes flitting over to Jin’s face rigged with dark circles, you mustered a chuckle. “How about you, are you okay? You look half-dead,” you joked.

“He was in the crib next to me when he just started wailing out of nowhere,” Jin plopped down onto the sofa, his sweatshirt crinkled and sweatpants loose and comfortable as ever. “I was so scared that maybe something else was wrong.”

“Parenting is both a blessing and a hardship, huh?” you chided in, “Don’t worry. I still think you’re doing an amazing job at being a dad.”

“You’re quite amazing too. You’re a natural at this.”

You shrugged, unable to look Jin in the eye as you continued gently swaying side to side while Yuuji slept in your arms. “My parents were rarely around. They were too busy working to provide for all of us so I acted as the parental figure instead.”

“Your parents are really lucky to have you as a child – reliable and strong.”

“All I ever wanted was to make them proud,” you told him, looking far from the distance as you reminisced your old memories with your family. It felt so far away already – they felt far away – though you knew the love you had for one another still remained. “And I live a good life knowing they passed with no worries. My siblings are doing great, too, though we’ve all parted ways now. Some of them got adopted by our relatives and I’m...I’m here I guess.”

“I’m extremely sorry for your loss,” Jin’s voice was quiet, and when you looked back at him, you saw him smiling into his hands before turning to you, wearing that damned smile that always had your heart doing backflips. “You’re a really strong person, you know?”

Your cheeks flushed at his words. “Thank you. I think it’s all thanks to my parents,” you murmured; that slight pang of pain remained even after their death, though it wasn’t as awful as it used to be. The sting felt a lot calmer now, almost as if time slowly healed your heart back together. “After they passed from the car crash, I just knew I had to be strong for all of us. The pain and the hardship were worth the effort, though. All of us are happy and settled now.”

“That’s the one thing I’m most afraid of,” he confessed, frowning at the peaceful baby in your arms. “That I’ll have to leave my child before he’s ready to face the world by himself. I’m not...I could never be prepared for that.”

“As long as he knows you love him and you always will, I think Yuuji will always find his way in life,” Jin’s eyes widened, something unreadable glimmering behind those pretty eyes that had you feeling too many things all at once. Embarrassment and sudden shyness creeped all the way up to your spine along with exhaustion, and you gestured for him to move aside, heaving as you sat down next to him. “I’m really sleepy.”

“Please, let me hold – oh. He likes you more, I guess.”

You chuckled at his dejected face, the childish pout the exact replication of Yuuji’s. Yuuji refused to be held by his dad, burrowing himself into your warmth instead. “I’ve got a charm when it comes to children.”

“That you do,” he agreed absentmindedly.

Before any of you could realize what was going on, you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Yuuji was still safely nestled between your arms, while Jin’s head was tucked in your shoulder, soft breaths leaving those equally soft lips.

Oddly enough, when you woke up and noticed your current position, none of you found it weird. Jin only laughed at the way drool dried up at the end of your lips, to which you silently scolded him for as to not rouse Yuuji from his sleep. He didn’t move away from his position, eyes flicking over from yours to his son bundled up warmly, a smile tugging up at the ends of his lips.

“Uh... that was a long night.”

“Long night, indeed,” Jin nodded before standing up to stretch, exposing a sliver of smooth skin that made heat rush up to your face. You immediately looked away, heart pounding in your chest as Jin began to rummage through his kitchen. “It’s a Saturday so if you’re free...do you want to stay over for breakfast?”

Something about that night kicked off the start of your...budding friendship with Jin. Yes, that’s exactly what it was, just friendship.

You knew there was no way he could ever see you the way you looked at him; not that you minded. Being in their presence and having Yuuji around was already a blessing itself, the days progressively getting better the more you worked for him.

It had become a routine that Jin would come home, exhaustion lining his eyes before he caught sight of you standing in the living room, reading books out loud while you carried a babbling Yuuji. You would laugh because it felt like Yuuji was trying to have conversation with you, to which you responded with reading terms even you had difficulty pronouncing. He’d only nod and keep saying nonsense, grubby hands reaching for the book you held.

He was so precious that you leaned down to kiss the top of his head every now and then, giggles pouring out from the tiny baby strawberry.

Jin took off his shoes, the happiness bursting through his chest unexplainable upon seeing that his son was happy and safe. Loosening the tie with one hand, he extended his arms wide open, running into your direction. “I’m home!”

“Yuuji, Daddy’s here!”

“How’s my sweet little boy doing?” The smile on Jin’s face was phenomenal and even dramatic as his son finally reached out to him, the babbles only getting louder as his dad peppered his cheeks with kisses. Yuuji still wanted to stay in your arms though, and Jin sighed when his son’s hands went back to grabbing at your book, though the chuckles he let out told you he wasn’t really dismayed about it. “Thank you for looking out for him again. Isn’t your arm tired from carrying him and studying like that?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve got really strong muscles,” you flexed your bicep, “Plus, it’s so comforting to carry an angel like Yuuji around. I feel like I’m going to pass my exams with ease!”

Not a moment later, you dropped your arm and turned away to hide your frown, brows pinched together. Jin, being the ever observant person he was, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle and warm as he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” you began, “I couldn’t understand something and I’ve been going at it for days. Nothing makes sense to me,” with the effort of only one free hand, you flipped to the middle of the book. A headache began to form the moment you read the chapter title, making you cringe while Jin leaned closer for a better look at its contents. “Look at this chapter here. It’s so confusing!”

“Oh, I know this!” he pushed his glasses back up to his nose, grinning as he pulled out a chair before gesturing you to do so. “Okay, so this means...” 

Not even in your craziest dreams had you imagined you’d be sitting at Jin’s table like this, your legs touching from the lack of space as he rambled on excitedly about the lesson.

He would have animated gestures to explain the dynamics of this and that, both you and Yuuji staring at him in awe as he broke the chapter down into easier parts. It was still difficult to understand since your attention was mostly on the way his eyes brightened the more he talked about his passion for the subject, not to mention that Yuuji was also grabbing at both your faces.

It made you both laugh, the two of you simultaneously bending down to kiss either sides of his cheeks until Yuuji was squished between the both of you.

You laughed with Jin the moment you made awkward eye contact through the kiss, chests bursting with laughter before he proceeded back to the lesson. With each passing second, you were beginning to fall for him a lot more and on a deeper level – so much so that you told yourself you should be scared. Instead, your heart felt at home, calm and peaceful, almost as if it knew you were safe and welcomed.

This sudden revelation had you looking at him in an entirely different light. Jin looked...the same, but somehow warmer? Like he was bathed in a soft glow, the edges pink like his hair, and your hair melted at each and every word that poured from his lips.

When you excused yourself to go to the restroom, you were greeted by the sight of a nearly passed out Jin on the couch, baby Yuuji asleep on his arms.

Jin must be really tired from work. He hadn’t even changed out of clothes. It was getting late too – you needed to come back home soon.

“Jin. Jin, wake up.”

“Huh?” his eyes snapped open, arms instinctively tightening around Yuuji’s before he relaxed, smiling stupidly as he leaned back on his seat. “Oh, it’s you. Hi.”

“Hi,” you echoed, nails digging into your palm to resist the urge to wrap him in a hug; he looked like he needed it. Hands held out in front of you, you took Yuuji from him, slightly nudging his knee with yours. “I’ll take Yuuji to bed. You should go freshen up,” Jin groaned in agreement as he ran his hands through his hair, muttering something about being a parent meant not getting to sleep well. You chuckled at his statement, already moving to get the cups out from the pantry. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great, thank you.”

Jin disappeared into his room while you tucked Yuuji into bed, the both of you meeting later in the kitchen. He still looked terribly tired, though his smile was lively as ever when he joined you at the table. “Long day again?”

“It’s always a long day,” he confessed through a sip, “But all my worries wash away when I get to see how happy and healthy my son is. I’d work day and night just to provide a good life for him.”

“Don’t forget to spend time with him too, okay? Using the present to ensure your son’s future in exchange of not watching them grow up isn’t worth it,” you reminded him, slightly referring to how much you regretted not getting to be with your parents much until you completely lost the opportunity to do so again. Jin easily read your eyes, fingers grazing the edges of his cup as you continued, “He’s growing day by day. Promise me you’ll always be there for him, okay?”

“I promise,” though whispered, you heard it loud and clear, and you knew without a doubt he’d keep to his words.

After Jin washed his cup, you gathered your things and allowed him to walk you all the way to his apartment’s entrance, waving softly at you. “Get home safely, Y/N. Text me when you’re home.”

It was the perfect routine: go to school, go to work, fall in love with Jin and his son a lot more than you should be, and go home with his kind smile as the last thing you saw.

Each night before sleep completely overtook you, your phone would vibrate, the name of the man who had completely smitten your heart appearing and washing away all the previous tiredness you both accumulated through the day.

Good night, Jin. Rest well.

You too.

It was a routine you’d never get tired of.

“Jin? Yuuji?” you gasped as Yuuji greeted you with bubbling laughter, his small arms slapping your cheeks while his dad giggled behind him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Happy Birthday!” Jin greeted and finally showed his face after hiding from Yuuji’s buttocks. Your heart absolutely soared at the sight of the father and son duo wearing matching pink clothes, both of their bright smiles only adding to the warmth of the special day. No, actually, it became special because of them – the two people you adored most in this world. “Satoru texted me it was your birthday and it’s my day off too so I thought I’d drop by!”

Before you could respond, Jin huddled Yuuji closer to him, blinking at the audience you both managed to gather.  “I forgot you lived at a dorm, though...is it normal that people are looking us?”

“No, it’s not. They probably think I’m a young mom or something,” you flushed beet red at his words, silently glaring at the nosy onlookers whispering behind their backs. It wasn’t that you were ashamed people could assume that about you, it was just ironic since you actually wanted that to be real but it was embarrassing because you knew Jin wouldn’t see you that way. “Can you give me a few minutes to get ready? We should go somewhere else.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you downstairs.”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. Brushing your teeth, showering, and getting dressed in your best clothing were all achieved in the span of ten minutes. You felt proud of yourself as you hopped the stairs two steps down at a time, hair flying from behind you. It was clear you were too excited, but could anyone blame you? You never cared about your birthday, but Jin and Yuuji were here! Of course this was going to be a special day.

You froze at the end of the stairs, the drumming of your heart too wild to tame. Jin was blowing kisses into Yuuji’s belly, the baby’s gleeful laughter painting the walls.

He must’ve felt your stare burning holes at the back of his head because Jin turned your way, Yuuji pressed into his chest as he walked towards you. You were once again blown away by his sweet scent, a mix of gentle laundry detergent and something was just so Jin.

“Hey there,” he smiled, knocking the wind out of your lungs with just two words. “I didn’t have anything cool planned for today since I wasn’t prepared but I know this nice restaurant you might really like. It’s going to be my treat!”

“Oh thanks, but my friends already fed me enough with pizza and cake. Is it okay if we just take a walk around somewhere?”

“Yeah, of course!” Grabbing his arm to pull him away from prying eyes, you walked out of the campus, extending your arms to celebrate your freedom once the warm sunshine kissed at your skin, the cool wind soothing you afterwards. Jin laughed at your carefree expression, watching as you twirled and danced a little at the peace provided to you by the park. “Happy Birthday again! So how’s it feel like being a year older?”

“I feel like nothing’s changed, but at the same time nothing is the same too,” you told him through a laugh, “Does that make sense?”

“Totally. When I first got Yuuji, I didn’t think anything changed too, but now I can’t imagine a life without this little guy.”

Your adrenaline rush had worn down.

Walking side by side with Jin, arms brushing from the lack of proximity even though the area was practically empty, it dawned on you that Jin had lived an entire life before you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking: “Do you...do you still think about her sometimes? His mom?”

Jin was silent for a moment. The sudden stretch of nothingness had anxiety crawling at you hard enough you were about to apologize for asking such a sensitive question, but Jin only smiled at you, although his smile was...sad, regretful, even.

“His mom and I didn’t work out,” he began. “I always knew she had some family issues when we began dating in college, but I didn’t think too much of it. Back then, all I knew was that I loved her and wanted to spend my life with her, so we eloped. Her parents didn’t like it, of course, and they demanded we brought her back,”

“She was pregnant at that time so I refused to let her see her family again knowing how toxic they were to her. But they insisted, and...and she wasn’t the same after that. She just started looking at me differently and hating the growing child inside of her,” Jin kissed the top of Yuuji’s head as he spoke, almost as if silently reminding his son he was loved no matter what.

“When Yuuji was born, she couldn’t even look at him; said she refused to be a mother and to cut ties with me. So we divorced and...well, I don’t know, to be honest. Last time I heard, she’d already remarried in such a short time – to a man her family approved of this time around.”

“Do you still love her?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed while Yuuji clutched at the collar of his turtleneck sweater, his doe eyes staring right up at you. “Do we ever really stop loving someone?”

Your heart fell at his words. So maybe he still did love her. You always knew you might never get a chance – but surely wishing for it wasn’t such a crime. “Does that mean you won’t fall in love with anyone else anymore?”

“Who would like a nerdy single dad like me?” Jin threw his head back in laughter, the disbelief apparent in his voice. It shocked you that he thought of himself this way, because in your eyes, he was perfect. “Plus, I’m too busy to date. Other than you, I don’t really hang out with women all that much, and you’ve seen in my worst state – like that one time I nearly went to work wearing the wrong tie or with my glasses skewed. I don’t think I’m the type people would want to date.”

“Well, who knows?”

“Yeah, who knows?” he mimicked your shrug, still painfully oblivious that you wore your heart on your sleeve.

Once the sun had completely shied away from the clouds and the heat grew too much for Yuuji, you both resorted to going back to his apartment. Yuuji was happily playing on the ground as he smashed his toys together, while you and Jin wore matching aprons (you didn’t ask why he had two) as you mixed the batter and he preheated the oven.

“I’m still sorry I couldn’t get to buy you a cake, by the way. But we have all the ingredients here and a homemade cake is always amazing!” Instead of smiling at his words, Jin was met with your glossy eyes, lips trembling. You’d completely stopped mixing the batter, no longer in control of yourself as you watched him happily skip back and forth to the ingredients.

Jin rushed to your side in a flash, hands hovering before you. He couldn’t really touch you since he had flour all over his skin, a smidge of it right under his worried gaze. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I’ve never really experienced this before. Having someone invite me to their home and bake me a cake for my birthday,” you looked down on the ground, feeling the emotional dam inside you starting to crack. “When I was young, I never even cared about my birthday because I was too busy tending after my siblings. After that, I forgot all about it and I was only surprised when my friends brought me gifts today,” You knew you were rambling, and you waved your hands in front of yourself, forcing yourself to smile. “I’m sorry – I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?”

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Suddenly, Jin pulled you into a hug, your body fitting perfectly in his arms. “I want you to know you’re family to us now. You’re always welcome here with me and Yuuji. We’ll take care of each other like family. We’ll bake you all the cakes you want from now on.”

The rest of his words were drowned out by the thumping of your chest.

You couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even properly see him – in that moment, all you could do was feel. You felt his warm breath ghosting over the column of your neck, his calloused hands patting gently at your back, the heat of his body seeping into yours that pulling away seemed to be such a daunting task. He felt like home, smelled like all the sweetness you lacked in your life, and you just knew you had to tell him.

“Jin. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“I,” your breath shuddered, hands coming up to clutch at the material of his shirt. “I’m in love with you.”

Just like that, the string broke.

Jin pulled away from you faster than you could comprehend. When you opened your eyes, he was already at an arm’s length away from you, nothing but the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces muddling with his words.

His back dipped into a low bow. “I am extremely sorry; I cannot accept your feelings. It’s not that you’re not loveable; it’s just...you’re my son’s babysitter and I believe this is really inappropriate. Yuuji is vulnerable still and the last thing I want to do is date when I should be focusing on his life instead. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t see nor do I feel that way for you.”

Hurt. Broken. Humiliated. Ashamed. Torn.

A plethora of feelings crashed over you all at once until breathing became such a hard thing to do, his words replaying like a broken record in your head.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t feel the same way.

And it made sense – because why would he? “Yeah, oh my gosh!” you exclaimed while waving your hands frantically in front of your face, your unexpected enthusiasm causing Jin to peer up at you curiously under his lashes. “I mean, of course, I knew that already, duh. I’m not stupid, but like, yeah I’m really sorry, I’m probably making you so uncomfortable right now. I’m really, really sorry.”

“You’re not, I assure you,” he smiled gently again, but this time around, you weren’t soothed. It felt totally humiliating. Your toes curled inside your socks as your forced smile froze on your face in hopes of not making this any weirder than it already was, and you only chuckled as Jin cleared his throat. “I hope we can still be friends after this and that we can keep our professional relationship,” you nodded eagerly, a little too eagerly, and Jin awkwardly gestured to the pans. “So...a cake is waiting to be baked.”

“Yeah, let’s get to baking!”

If Jin noticed that you were a lot more enthusiastic than you were this morning, he didn’t comment about it. He hummed under his breath in agreement, the both of you working synchronously.

You’ve been in his house long enough that you knew where all the pans and ingredients were, silently handing things over one another through a forced polite conversation of how the other’s day went. A pat on your back was well deserved from how you managed to keep up with his questions, your broken heart perfectly concealed under forced smiles and dry chuckles.

In reality, you couldn’t focus.

On the inside, you were shattered. Why did you have to fall for him out of all people? There could’ve been so many others – like Fushiguro Toji from Biology, Gojo Satoru the playboy, Suguru Geto the heir of his large corporation – but it had to be Itadori Jin.

He was so close and yet out of reach, seemingly so unattainable that your lips had dried from how often you licked at them in an attempt to keep the tears in.

You knew you ruined everything. Soon, you’d have to say goodbye to baby Yuuji, no longer able to kiss him on top of his head and see him smile the moment you walked through the door, his dad equally alight upon seeing you got Yuuji a stuffed toy as a gift.

You were stupid for thinking you could even be part of this family. They were happy and fine enough – what role did you have here?

Compared to an actual working adult who’d already experienced many things in life like Jin, you were just a flimsy, lovesick little girl who was only learning how to love. And with loving, came the guaranteed promise of heartbreak.

You just never expected it would be this way.

As Jin turned his back to you to place the batter inside the oven, your hands shook, desperately wiping the sweat of your palms on your jeans. “Excuse me for a minute,” you dashed to the bathroom, locking yourself and finally allowing the broken gasps to leave your lips.

Your back was laid flat on the wall, your shirt tucked in your mouth as you slapped your thigh, the tears streaming endlessly down your cheeks.

You didn’t want to leave him. You wanted to stay longer, wanted to be able to see his face every waking morning and to make him tea while he made breakfast. You wanted to watch Yuuji grow up and hold hands with Jin, to tell him you would love him if he allowed you. But he didn’t – and it hurt so much that your eyes grew red from the incessant crying.

It was better to just leave than to be kicked out. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

So you wiped your tears away, dunking water to your face before you rushed out the room, bag slung across your shoulder. Yuuji stopped playing as he watched you wear your shoes in frantic movements, your heart bursting through with pain.

You didn’t dare look Jin in the eye.

“Hey, Jin, I’m so sorry – my friends called. They’re inviting me out for drinks tonight and I can’t say no.”

“But...the cake.”

“Yeah, you can eat it yourself, I’m really sorry to bother but uhm, anyways, BYE!” Left confused, Jin stared at the door slammed shut hard enough that Yuuji fell to the floor in surprise, small whines leaving his lips.

Jin couldn’t tell whether his son cried because you’d left them, or he was simply afraid of the sound. Whatever it was, the sinking feeling in his stomach was much too clear.

The next few days were hell. Your friends noticed the sudden drop in your mood, the loss of appetite, and the fact that you were clearly sleep-deprived.

How could you get sleep when your phone wallpaper was Yuuji kissing your cheeks, his dad laughing in the background? How could you sleep when your textbook still lay on your desk, a painful reminder of that time Jin had tutored you? How could you sleep when Wednesdays and Fridays had returned to its normal mundane self with nothing left to look forward to?

You couldn’t tell your friends about it either. All they knew was that you hadn’t been going to work because you came up with a flu, when in reality you’d been buried under your sheets, desperately ignoring the loud silence of your phone.

No texts. No calls. No how are you’s or how are you doing?

Not that you expected him to care since you did step out of line; you’d been completely unprofessional and Jin might not recommend you to future works anymore, though that was the least of your worries.

You just wanted to forget everything. His smile, his laughter, his kindness, the sound of his voice and how he always smelled like sweet vanilla.

Crying yourself to sleep and wishing each day would come to an end faster was absolutely exhausting. The lack of sunlight caused you to be groggy and gray – if you kept up at this state, you’d completely wither like a dried sunflower. You didn’t want to go out but your mini fridge was empty, stomach loudly grumbling for food.

You sighed as you closed the door, unkempt hair up in a bun and body adorned with an oversized shirt and the sweatpants you’ve refused to wash for two days now.

You were a mess – both on the inside and the outside – and your eyes lacked their usual warmth. Your movements mimicked that of a robot as you straggled to the nearest convenience store, about to enter when you heard someone cry out.

“Mama!”

Hands frozen on the door, your eyes widened before your head craned to the sound of rushed footsteps. In front of you was a panting Jin, a wailing baby Yuuji in his arms who only cried louder once he set his eyes on you. Jin gasped for air, and you both moved in sync, with you reaching out for baby Yuuji and him handing his child over to you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! Yuuji’s first word was Mama and I didn’t know what he meant but then he started crying and clutching the strawberry toy you got him and I’m so sorry, he just won’t stop crying. He kept looking for you.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize!” you replied back, adding a bounce to your step to cradle Yuuji who’d buried his damp face onto your neck, crying mama over and over again.

Memories of meeting Jin for the first time and his reminder that he didn’t want Yuuji calling you that nearly made you kneel down in apology, but you opted for a slight bow, your hot tears trailing down your face because you missed him, but it was all messed up and seeing him once more only dug a deeper crater in your heart.

Before you completely left each other’s lives, you at least wanted to apologize.

“I realized my mistake and made it so weird for the both of us. Plus, Yuuji didn’t say Dada and I think that’s my fault. I swear I wasn’t trying to replace his mom or anything, I just—”

“I love you too,” he cut you off, and your eyes snapped from the ground back to his flustered face.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for lying that I don’t feel the same way,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck while his ears flushed a deep red. “The truth is, my father always told me that Yuuji’s mom wasn’t a good person and I should stay away from her, but I never listened. A-and I always talked to him about Yuuji’s new babysitter and how kind you were and how I think I’m falling for you. He said I should man up and tell you but I was just afraid to love again since I’ve fallen before and I don’t want to be hurt again,” Jin bowed to you in a perfect angle, his son now at peace in your arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Jin,” you breathed out, the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You couldn’t believe this was happening – you wanted to embrace him, to kiss him, hold him, but you’d been so engrossed in your own heartbreak you never even thought about Jin’s fears. “I’d never hurt you or Yuuji.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for hurting you like that,” he straightened up, feeling you stiffen under him when his arms wrapped around you. He felt so warm, and you felt so at place that your tears damped his sweatshirt, Jin’s hands gently caressing your waist. “Is it okay if we come back home?”

You cried louder than you ever did your whole life, though this time it was mixed with laughter. Jin laughed with you as you encircled your free arm around his neck to pull him closer, your lips eager as you littered kisses over his neck.

“Yes, of course,” you giggled, “You don’t even have to ask.”

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away, and neither did Jin. This time, you embraced each other wholeheartedly, pink hearts floating in the air while the strawberry-haired baby giggled in your presence, delighted that now his family was whole.

[echodrops]

The Promises I Made (2022)

...Aha ha ha...

Well, at least that’s over, I guess? I feel such a bone deep exhaustion I don’t even know what to say about this last year. Does anyone? One more year older, I suppose. Last year at this time I felt like I really needed to take it easy on myself going into 2022, but that just led to me drifting aimlessly through this last year as if stuck in a bad dream. Things really are still very rough...

2023 seems to be gearing up for another year of “Who knows?” Will it be better? Will another disaster strike? Let’s hope the former, and not the latter!

This year, like every year, there will be a new set of 50 promises to keep (or break), but in the mean time, here’s how I did on the promises from 2022!

Promises I Made (2022):

1) Get the Utah house chimney repaired before it falls down.

Status: Kept. It doesn’t look “brand new,” but it is properly sealed now and with new mortar between the bricks. Crisis averted.

2) Get both bedroom floors sanded in the Utah house upstairs.

Status: Broken. The Utah house needed a lot of improvements and unfortunately this wasn’t one of them that got done.

3) Get the Utah house sprinklers up and working ALL the way for this summer.

Status: Broken. I literally tried so hard to get someone out to work on these damn sprinklers and not a single person got back to me on this. Guess I’ll have to try again next May...

4) Actually get the back fence fixed up and the greenery back there trimmed and managed.

Status: Broken. I hate those goddamn vines so much. I HATE THEM.

4) Get an official exercise routine including walking/jogging, please.

Status: Somewhat kept. Most of the year I was pretty bad on this; however, I have a new puppy and she is learning to walk so I do got 4-5 miles a day now that she’s managed to work up to that.

5) Related to that, lose at least 20 pounds. 2020-2021 was not kind to me and the stress eating was real.

Status: Ugh, broken. See the above “sat around and did nothing but work for 3/4s of the year.”

6) Successfully set up and use the Roomba my family got for me to hopefully cut down on allergies.

Status: Broken. Okay listen. I was all ready to do this, then I got a P U P P Y. Who chews everything. The Roomba would not survive. It’s stationary until she gets a bit bigger and stops chewing.

7) Keep up with the specialist appointments that my doctor is making for me. No more getting confused on dates and missing…

Status: Kept. I actually managed to get in to see the RIGHT specialist this year who actually diagnosed my issues correctly. Too bad the recommended treatment is surgery that will be several thousand out of pocket...

8) Go see the dentist again because I think I broke/chipped one of my old fillings and it is not feeling good.

Status: Kept. The old filling was indeed broken, but it has been fixed!

9) Finish all the books I received as gifts from 2020 through 2021. It’s rude not to finish books people gave you out of love.

Status: ...Ahahaha. Broken. More books appeared, rather than disappeared, from the list.

10) Organize my documents (especially student papers)—my desktop and documents folders give me nightmares just looking at them.

Status: Damn, broken. I could have done this, but I didn’t think to do it before I left town for the holiday, and now I’m not on my home computer to do it. RIP.

11) Get my new SSD hard drive fully installed and working before going back to work.

Status: Kept.

12) Get a decent paper shredder to shred old mail.

Status: Broken. I completely forgot I made this promise. I do still need a shredder though. D;

13) Get the fucking post office to STOP delivering other people’s mail to my house. 90% of the mail that comes to the mailbox isn’t even for me and it is driving me C R A Z Y.

Status: Broken. Jesus fucking Christ. I am trying so hard. I talked to the postmaster TWICE and they still won’t stop delivering other people’s mail.

14) Get the Texas house dishwasher fixed… I’m so tired of washing dishes by hand… How do people do this, oof.

Status: Broken. I could have and I just didn’t.

15) Get a plumber to stop the dripping spare bathroom faucet and also check behind the wall in the side bathroom… This is gonna be expensive, ugh.

Status: Kept. It was fucking expensive.

16) Talk to an HR rep about my retirement savings so that I can consolidate my retirement accounts. I have been putting this off for like five years now.

Status: Broken. I completely forgot I made this promise. But damn I also still need to do this, lol.

17) Do at least one artwork to actually use that new paint program I bought.

Status: Broken. Oof.

18) Pay my credit debt down by at least $2000. I’m still paying off the hell year but I hope I can make progress on this.

Status: Broken. I was doing so good for a while there, then my car had a major issue that cost over $2000, my back fence blew down in a storm and cost $1700 to re-fence, and I had to pay over $800 for the above-mentioned plumbing fixes... Back in debt again. Fuck you, 2020s.

19) Be a super prepared boss and be ahead of the game on all major requirements for the semester, rather than feeling like I’m playing catch-up all the time.

Status: Broken. Spring 2021 was really good. I thought I did really well that semester. Fall 2021... was a nightmare. Just a complete disaster. I felt so far behind on everything from Day 1. I’m just praying I can do better this year.

20) See a groove-billed ani. This will be the year!

Status: DUDE, I kept this promise so hard that I no only saw a groove-billed ani, I ALSO saw a smooth-billed ani, which is like 100 times rarer. I saw some great birds this year!

21) Make it to 3500 followers on tumblr. You should follow me. I’m awesome. :D

Status: Broken. Despite the porn bots best efforts in November/December, I did not, in fact, make it to 3500. I would have had to POST something to get new followers, after all.

22) Update HaaH at least once. I will do this, no matter what.

Status: Broken. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so bad at this.

23) Finish streaming all the new Marvel stuff with Kacchan.

Status: Broken. I was REALLY, REALLY close to caught up. Then Marvel released like 50 new movies and 500 new TV shows and I am very much giving up on this lmaooo.

24) Save up to finally buy one of those Ember heated tea mugs.

Status: Kept. My family bought me one for Christmas!

25) Do a better job of working with and representing the other disciplines in my department. I’m really good at advocating for English, but Communication and the foreign languages under my department need more support, and I need to step up for them.

Status: Kept, though mostly by necessity. All our full-time Spanish instructors retired so guess who had to help redo all the Spanish curriculum despite not speaking Spanish???

26) Use the sugar scrub Echo. Just use it. Pamperrrrrr yourself for once…

Status: Broken. It’s RIGHT THERE. Every day, I look right at it, and did I use it? Not even once.

27) Help my parents save money on their bills by consolidating their services and making some calls to retention of these companies for them.

Status: Somewhat kept? I honestly did try very hard on this one and was prevented from succeeding by my parents just being completely unwilling to change, even to save themselves money. Oof.

28) Bird watch in at least three brand new locations this year. I have a tendency to just go back to the places I know, and I’m probably missing some really great birding sites.

Status: Broken. I bird watched one brand new location this year, but alas, only one.

29) Keep up my medicine prescriptions successfully without letting them lapse.

Status: Kept. The new medicine is like the one thing standing between me and death, so I don’t usually forget it anymore lol.

30) Play with my dog and cat more often. They’re bored because I’m working too much, I know.

Status: Somewhat kept. I tried this year to cut down on the amount of work I brought home, but other situations made it really difficult to do so. My poor cat in particular definitely needs more attention.

31) Call an exterminator to finally get the ants that keep coming in from somewhere actually dealt with, instead of just spraying them with bug spray even other week and calling it good.

Status: Kept, in that the ants are gone? After I went away for the summer, there was no water running in the house, so the ants stopped coming in, and even after I came back at the end of summer, they just never came back? So I’m counting that as a promise kept?

32) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it.

Status: Ooops. I forgot I made this promise. Broken.

33) Speaking of FFXIV: This year, I’ll obtain every in-game orchestrion roll. I’m already 80% of the way there.

Status: Broken. See, the issue with this promise is that they keep adding MORE orchestrion rolls... Not sure what I was thinking lol.

34) Get a new rose bush for the front of the Texas house and keep it alive.

Status: I did not do this. Broken.

35) Get King’s prescriptions moved to the closer vet so I don’t have to keep driving two hours away each month to get his medicine.

Status: Kept, in a sense. I was able to move his medicine over to the new vet, but unfortunately, there didn’t end up being any point to it. At the end of January in 2022, he was diagnosed with throat cancer. He lived until April 2022 and then passed away. My beloved boy...

36) Buy the Noragami volumes I am missing from my collection and do a full re-read of the series so that I can write meta about it again. Right now it just feels like there are so many things I can’t properly remember…

Status: Broken. I still greatly want to do this, but at this point, I’m kind of just waiting for the end of the manga so that I can officially catch up and re-read it from start to finish.

37) Go to Zion National Park with Derby.

Status: Kept. We hiked so much.

38) Go horseback riding on the island. I’ve never ridden on a beach before!

Status: Broken. I did not do this, RIP.

39) Eat healthier. Maybe cutting out snacks is too much to ask, but at least replace some average meals with salads, etc. and overall make an effort to actually eat better. Sometimes the fact that I feel garbage is my own fault.

Status: Mostly broken. The stress was so real this year.

40) Related to feeling like garbage: NO MORE WORKING AFTER 9PM. If it’s a real emergency, okay, but otherwise, it is time to set a boundary about working from home after hours.

Status: Broken. I must have been on crack when I made this promise, because honestly there is no way I could possibly have done the job I have without working to midnight many nights of the year... Someone save me...

41) Get a new office chair, an actual nice one, and some plastic to go under the chair to make it easier to move around.

Status: Broken. I... probably should have remembered to check in on the promises more than a few times this year because I also totally forgot this one.

42) Finish decorating the main office. I’ll feel better if my workplace reflects the level of professionalism and school spirit that I envisioned it having this year.

Status: Broken. I know exactly what I want to do with the rest of the office that isn’t decorated, I just never got around to it. T_T

43) Ensure our department successfully meets all its IEP goals this year.

Status: Kept! We were the first department to confirm completion of all goals!

44) Try to be more comprehensive with giving feedback to students. I’m always good at providing detailed comments on essays, but I’d like to spend more time commenting on smaller assignments too this year.

Status: Broken. I was trying in Spring 2022, but in fall, I was double over-loaded on courses on top of all the administrative work I had and could barely keep up grading at all, let alone give more feedback.

45) Write an FFXIV fic. Even if it’s just a one-shot, write something for this series. I need to express my love…

Status: Kept! I wrote a whole bunch for #FFXIVWrites and even received an art prize for participating! <3

46) Be more proactive about the cleaning. No more accidentally forgetting to take the trash can out to the curb. At least once a month do a full dust and vacuum of the house, not just the one room I spend the most time in (my office lol).

Status: Surprisingly, kept. I don’t really know why, but my house was somehow much cleaner in the latter half of this year. Did I unlock the secret stress cleaning routine?

47) Participate in NaNoWriMo. Even if I don’t finish, just participating again will feel great.

Status: Broken. There was zero chance I could have done this while overloaded on courses.

48) Get a screen door put on the side door of the Texas house. This really needs to happen and I can’t believe I just remembered.

Status: Broken, although not for lack of trying. I did actually have someone come to try to measure for a screen door, but it turns out the door is not a standard size and it would be way too much money to get a custom screen door made.

49) Don’t forget anyone’s birthday or any other holidays this year. (I forgot a close friend’s birthday last year due to being stressed with work and I’m still upset with myself over it.)

Status: Mostly kept. I did better this year--not perfect, but better!

50) I will keep my promises!

Status: OOF. Mostly broken promises this year. 2022 was another hard one. I’m on the struggle buss.

Kept: 16

Somewhat kept/somewhat broken: 3

Broken: 31

Good luck, 2023′s Echo!

[tutantmeenageneetleteetle]

I saw you were asking for some requests and thought I'd put a lil something in your inbox. Might it be possible for you to write some headcanons on how the boys would react to reader being a Mom Friend TM? Platonic or romantic. Whichever you're more comfortable with :D

Sure! Thank you for your request! I must admit that I'm a bit of a mom-friend myself, so I hope all of the mom friends out there can find themselves in this post as well. I didn't necessarily choose to do it platonic, but I think it kind of turned out that way, so I hope that's okay!

Leo

He isn't sure how to feel

He thinks it's so cute that you want to take care of him

But he's also very capable of taking care of himself

So if you scold or smother him too much he'll probably get annoyed by it

But he also loves the fact that you care about him so much

And that you show that you care about his brothers as well and are protective over them

Reminds him of himself

You do make his life easier since you help take care of his brothers and him

It's a comforting thought that he doesn't always have to be the one looking out for everyone and that he can relax once in a while

He's grateful to have you

Raph

He pretends to hate it

He doesn't mind, kind of moves him that you mother over him a little

It does make for a lot of bickering between you two

As long as you two don't get into serious fights he kind of enjoys a little argument now and then

He does really appreciate the things you do for him though, like patch up wounds or listening to him rant

He's also kind of amazed about how many things are in your bag and how you thought to bring everything

Bandages, bandaids, snacks, drinks, scissors, pocket knife, a fidget toy for Mikey, painkillers, pens, paper, pencils and erasers, extra t-shirt, a book, a lighter and a lot more useful stuff

He also appreciates that you're always there to talk him out of dumb, anger-fueled plans because looking back on it he's glad he didn't do them

Donnie

He doesn't mind

He very well understand that you might be concerned about him and/or his brothers

I mean if he's not fighting trained assassins, he's working with dangerous machines or chemicals

He also really appreciate it when you make meals for him of bring him something to drink

He's not really good at taking care of himself

He also appreciates that you text him once in a while to check up on him because he can get so lost in his work

You have to also drag him away from his computer sometimes to go outside or socialise

Mikey

He doesn't notice it too much if you mother over him

I mean he's the youngest (or atleast most immature) out of his brothers so he's pretty used to it

He will kind of start counting on you to mother over him too

But you don't mind

He gets you into a little trouble once in a while, which is good to expand your comfort zone

He has poor impulse control

You make him text you when he's home so you can go to sleep knowing he didn't die skateboarding off of a building or something

He will also use you to get shelter from his brothers after pranking them because he knows you'll defend him

Bonus:

Splinter

It took him by surprise that you try to take care of him

He can't help but feel warm inside

He's the parent of 4 sons, a master in ninjitsu and in his 40s, but still you felt the need to take care of him

This definitely earns you parent-points (you know, how parents keep score over their kids friends and how good they are for them/ how much they like them)

He would accept and cooperate with you mothering over him (and smile the whole time)

He is actually not that good at taking care of himself, but doesn't like people knowing that

Especially when it comes to eating, and just like Donatello he can get too focused on what he's currently doing

So he does actually very much appreciates it when you bring him meals

Requests are still open btw, so feel free to request some headcanons for the 2012 turtles! Have a great day everyone :)

[cdelphiki]

Kid Jason and Bruce bonding over cars, 5k words of fluff, no archive warnings apply.

“Good morning, lad,” Alfred said, one Saturday morning just as Jason stepped into the kitchen, “What would you like for breakfast?”

He’d skipped ‘family’ breakfast in favor of sleeping in, which Alfred had said multiple times was perfectly acceptable. He was 12, after all, and needed his sleep. 

With a smile, Jason started crossing the kitchen, over to the pantry, as he said, “Hi, Alfred. I was just gonna get some cereal.”

“Then help yourself, lad.”

Despite saying ‘help yourself,’ Alfred both got him a bowl and the milk out, but otherwise let Jason pour himself the cereal. He then traded Jason the milk for a spoon before going back to whatever he was preparing before. Kinda looked like bread. He was kneading dough, whatever it was.

“What’s Bruce doing in the garage?” Jason asked, after he’d watched Alfred for a few minutes and got through half his bowl of cereal.

Alfred rolled the dough up into a loaf shape and dropped it down into a glass pan as he said, “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

He didn’t even look over, but Alfred must have heard Jason frown, or something, because he then asked, “You like cars, don’t you?”

“Well yeah,” Jason stammered. He did like cars, but why did that mean he had to go ask Bruce what he was doing? “I just don’t want to bother him.”

Bruce was obviously doing work or something. He had spent almost the whole week working, and then had to take Jason out yesterday, so he probably had stuff he had to get done around the house, right? With… the tools.

“You won’t be bothering him,” Alfred said, like he thought it was impossible for Jason to bother Bruce, “I’m sure he will be more than happy to tell you about the work he’s doing on his cars.”

So he was doing work then.

Just… on his cars…

Jason looked down into his bowl and scooped out his last bite of cereal, contemplating whether he would go bother Bruce.

On the one hand, Bruce had said he would show Jason his cars if he just asked.

But on the other… he didn’t know. Things were good with Bruce so far, he was kind of scared if he bothered Bruce too much, he’d ruin it.

But as soon as Jason set his bowl back down, after finishing off the milk, Alfred walked over and took it, saying, “Go on, lad.”

And, well. Jason was supposed to listen to Alfred, right?

Back at the door to the garage, though, Jason hesitated. Bruce was back rummaging through the toolbox, but his Volkswagen was moved out to the middle of the floor, out of its normal parking spot in the line of cars away from the doors.

He didn’t turn around, though, when Jason hesitatingly pulled the door open and stepped down onto the the little set of three stairs that led to the garage floor. It wasn’t until he found whatever it was, it looked like a funnel from where Jason was standing, did he turn around and notice Jason.

“Hey, bud,” he said, as he pulled a little earbud out of his ear, “what’s up?”

“Alfred said I should come see what you were doing.”

Bruce nodded and put his little earbud in a case on the work bench as he said, “Oh, well I’m changing the oil on the cars today.”

“All of them?” Jason surveyed the garage and couldn’t help but think doing something like that would take ages.

“Most of them,” Bruce nearly hummed, as he opened the driver’s door to the Volkswagen and leaned inside. A second later, the hood popped.

Jason hopped down the last two steps and walked over toward one of the lines of cars, the one with the red lambo he’d been drooling over every time he was in the garage. He hadn’t had a chance to actually look at it, though. Because every time he was in the garage, Bruce was ushering him someplace or another.

Bruce peeked over at him, but didn’t say anything when Jason put his hand down on the hood of the car. It was gorgeous. Shiny and flawless. Not a single scratch on it anywhere Jason could see.

It was obvious it was taken care of, but Jason would have never thought Bruce did the work.

“Don’t you have people for that?” Jason asked, as Bruce opened the hood on the Volkswagen and propped it open like he’d done it a million times.

With seventy-four cars, he probably had done it a million times.

“Have you seen people around here I’m not aware of?” Bruce asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he checked the car’s oil, using the little stick thing. Jason had never actually seen someone do that before. Mostly because his parents hadn’t owned a car. He’d seen people do that on TV and stuff, though.

“No one’s mechanic lives with them,” Jason scoffed, turning fully from the Lamborghini to watch Bruce. Although Jason wouldn’t put it past a rich weirdo with a million cars to have a live-in mechanic.

Bruce huffed, what Jason assumed was a laugh, but he said, “I’m my own mechanic,” as he started messing with something in the car. Jason was kinda curious what.

“Why?”

“Is it so wrong I have a hobby?” Bruce asked, looking up at Jason finally.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Jason answered with a shrug, “You’re rich.” Rich people had hobbies there were like, horses. Horses and… well. Jason didn’t actually know, outside of illegal stuff, obviously.

“I like working on my own cars,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his tool box and slipped on some gloves, “At least, on the cars I can work on. Some of these are just easier to bring to the dealership.”

“Really? Why?” Jason asked, looking back around at all the cars. Bruce actually had about ten cars, mostly sport cars, “Which ones?”

“It’s all the computer systems in the newer cars, I don’t feel like owning the equipment for every single car, especially if I don’t drive that car much, anyway. And cars like the Tesla you have to get parts for on the blackmarket, and it’s far more trouble than it’s worth.”

With a slight grin, Jason asked, “So you’re saying you don’t buy stuff from the black market,” as he pointed to himself when Bruce looked over. Regardless of his intentions, Bruce had exchanged money for him. Which was technically buying a child on the blackmarket.

Bruce just rolled his eyes, though, and said, “I try not to.”

“Why do you own like ten cars?” Jason asked, as he started inspecting the other cars in the line he was at. Next to the Lamborghini was a sleek black sports car and Jason was pretty sure was a corvette. He really needed to study the symbols on cars more. It was a little ‘V’ on the hood, so he was like, 98% sure.

“There’s only nine here and one is Alfred’s,” Bruce said, like that made a difference, “and I like cars. They’re fun to collect.”

“Do you actually drive them all? You always pick the Tesla when we go anywhere.” Or that one time the Volkswagen.

Although maybe Bruce brought the sports cars out on his dates or whatever he did at night. Jason had never watched him leave or anything.

Bruce leaned back over the Volkswagen’s engine compartment as he said, “I try to drive each one at least once a month, even if it’s just around the block.”

“Oh,” he said, shoving his hands into his hoody pocket. He was wearing his Wayne Enterprises one, since he’d sweated all over the Batman one.

Maybe Bruce was right and he needed a summer hoody or something, because it was hot in the garage, too. Since the door was open to the outside and all…

Jason walked over to the open garage door and leaned back against the threshold between inside and outside and asked, “How often do you do this?” as he motioned at everything inside the garage.

“Every six months,” Bruce said, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt sleeve. Then he stood up and looked straight as Jason as he asked, “Do you want to help?”

“What?” Help?

Bruce would actually let Jason help?

“Come here,” Bruce motioned with his head for Jason to come over, “I’ll show you what I’m doing.”

Jason pushed off the wall and took an aborted step forward as he asked, “Really?” Couldn’t he like, fuck up the car horribly??

Why would Bruce want him to help?

“Of course, this is a good skill to know. One day you’ll have a car of your own to take care of.��

“I will?” Jason asked, a little dazed as he did cross the garage to where Bruce was working.

Not many people owned cars, where he was from. He’d never actually dreamed that one day he’d own a car.

But maybe he should have. Because… if he got a real job, like doctor or lawyer or something, then he’d have enough money to buy one.

And if he did that, he’d probably need one to get to work and stuff.

“Of course,” Bruce said, like he hadn’t even thought the opposite. Once Jason had fully approached the car, and inched up to the side of the engine compartment, across from Bruce, he said, “Okay, tell me what all you know about cars.”

“Uh,” Jason stammered. He didn’t know much about cars, in the grand scheme of things. He’d only recently been able to research them! “Well. I know that’s the engine,” he continued, pointing to where the engine was, hiding under a cover, “And it has, uh, cylinders and pistons…”

He trailed off, but when he looked back up at Bruce, Bruce was smiling brightly, like Jason had said the right thing, so he tried to return the smile.

“Great, you already know more than most drivers,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his workbench. He grabbed a pair of gloves and held them out for Jason as he said, “Engines have oil in them we need to change, to make sure it’s staying clean. Dirty oil damages the engine, which can cause some serious problems. Engines also burn off oil, so changing it ensures we’re keeping enough in there for the engine to work properly.”

Jason listened attentively as he rolled his sleeves up and pulled the gloves on. Bruce went to on explain how they were going to get the old oil out, replace it, and change the oil filter. He’d known kind of vaguely the basics of all that, but he’d never heard it be explained in detail.

Bruce walked him through everything, and even let Jason do some of the work. Like pull out the old oil filter and insert the oil extractor down into the car. Bruce took a step back once he showed Jason what to do, and even let Jason extract all the oil. By himself.

It was actually super easy. No wonder Bruce did his own oil changes.

While Jason was watching the oil slowly drain from the engine and into the extractor, Bruce went and got two huge bottles of oil off the shelf, which was stocked with, like, twenty bottles of the stuff.

“That much?” It looked like he had two gallons of oil, or more. Probably more. The bottles were bigger than milk jugs.

“Yes,” Bruce said, as he set the two bottles on the ground next to the extractor, “This car needs almost six quarts.”

Jason had no idea how much that was, because who measured shit in quarts?? But he nodded and watched from the side of the car as Bruce took the extractor out and slipped the funnel in, then poured the entirety of one of the bottles in.

It wasn’t until he started pouring in the second bottle did Bruce say, “Okay, I need you to pull the dip stick out and check the level.”

Jason bounced back around to the front of the car, so he could reach the dip stick. Bruce stepped to the side, further out of the way, but couldn’t go too far since he was still holding the bottle over the funnel, but it was fine. Jason could reach it just fine.

“Pull it out and wipe it off,” Bruce explained, when Jason located the dip stick, “then dip it back in. That will give you an accurate reading.”

Nodding, Jason grabbed the rag Bruce had set next to the dip stick and did exactly as told. Once he had the ‘accurate’ reading he held it up into the sun and squinted at it, trying to figure out if he was supposed to be able to tell if it was low. “Uh, it’s below the bottom dot.”

“That means we don’t have enough in there. You want the oil between the two dots.”

“Ah.” Jason nodded, and watched as Bruce poured more into the engine, a little at a time.

Each time he had Jason check the levels again, until the line was almost all the way to the top dot. Once it was, Bruce nodded contentedly and said, “That’s good enough,” and put the bottle of oil back down on the ground, “Now we just have to put the new filter in and we’re done.”

Doing that was a piece of cake. It was basically just the reverse as removing it. Then Bruce had Jason put the engine cover on by himself and they were done.

Just like that.

“Great job,” Bruce said, as he removed the stick holding the hood open, then motioned for Jason to step back so he could drop it shut. Jason jumped when the hood slammed closed, but then smiled when Bruce added, “You’re a pro already.”

“This is some people’s job,” Jason said, as he stepped back into the sunlight, shining in through the open garage door behind him, where he could get a good look at all of Bruce’s cars.

“It sure is,” Bruce said, “Mechanics is a very good field to go into. We’ll always have a need for mechanics.”

“Unless all the rich assholes start doing it themselves,” Jason said, walking along the edge of the driveway, toward the other row of cars on the other side of the garage.

Bruce huffed as he peeled his gloves off and tossed them over at the work bench. “If I crashed one of these,” he said, walking back to the Volkswagen with the key in his hand, “or the engine failed or something drastic, I’d let a mechanic fix it. I just do the routine, easy things.”

“Oh.” Jason supposed that made sense. It probably wasn’t fun if it was super tedious or whatever.

While Bruce started up the Volkswagen and backed it up into its spot, in the row of cars across the way from Jason, he wandered down the new row of vehicles.

All of the cars Bruce or Alfred drove the most were closer to the door to the Manor, so that’s where the Tesla and Bentley were. On this side was some cars Jason didn’t even recognize. He’d need to do a lot of research on fancy-ass sports cars to figure them out, too.

That was, until he stopped on the last car in the row and recognized the SRT logo on the side of the grille.

“No way,” he whispered to himself, as he circled the car.

There was no way it was what he thought it was.

He’d just seen a documentary… or four… about this car three days ago. It was an expensive car, sure, but not like million dollars expensive. It wasn’t even 100k, if he remembered right. He hadn’t been expecting Bruce to have one.

Then again, Bruce owned a Volkswagen. And this was an awesome car.

“You like that one?” Bruce asked, from across the garage.

“Is this a Hellcat?” Jason asked, before he cupped his hands around his eyes so he could try to peek inside. Sadly the tinted windows were too dark, though, so he stood back up and looked over at Bruce.

And Bruce looked… delighted. That was the only way Jason could describe it. He looked delighted.

“It sure is.”

“Dude,” Jason exclaimed, excitement bubbling up in him so quickly he felt like he would burst, “No way! What year is it? Does it really have a red key? How fast does it go? Why don’t you drive this one everywhere!”

Bruce grinned probably the most genuine grin Jason had ever seen but he couldn’t even though about it, because holy shit. He was right!!!

This was like, one of his favorite cars ever.

He’d watched four different documentaries, all on youtube, all because of the red key and how the regular black key governed the engine but the red key unlocked over seven hundred horse power.

And besides being so fucking cool that a car could go so fast, it was such a funny image, picturing seven hundred horses pulling a car.

Bruce walked over to the key lock box, up near the door to the manor, and put his Volkswagen key away. Before he shut it, though, he pulled out a bright red key and Jason just about lost it.

“Oh my God, that’s so cool.”

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Bruce asked, holding the key up, but not yet crossing the garage.

“Are you serious?” Jason asked. Bruce unlocked the doors in answer, so Jason exclaimed, “Yes!” and quickly rounded to the passenger side to open the door and look inside.

The first thing that hit him was the new car smell.

Such a wonderful, beautiful smell. Probably one of his favorites.

“This is so cool,” he whispered, in hushed awe as he slipped into the passenger seat.

There was a backseat, but there was almost no windows back there, and barely any space, and he wanted to see. Not be trapped and blind to everything happening. So Jason buckled himself into the passenger seat and just hoped Bruce wouldn’t make him move.

But Bruce just walked around to the driver door, smiling softly as he slid in and buckled himself in. “Feeling good?” he asked, as he dropped the key into the cup holder.

Good????

Jason was fucking ecstatic.

“Are you gonna go fast?”

In answer, Bruce pressed down on the brake and pressed the start button, then revved the engine loudly.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Jason said under his breath, trying not to grin too wide when Bruce put the car in drive and slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Bruce said. Jason didn’t even have enough time to agree, though, before Bruce lined the car up with the garage door and then gunned it.

Mostly because Jason was too busy laughing, watching the trees and bushes that lined the driveway speed by.

He only had to slow down a little for the gate, because somehow he told it to start opening before they got anywhere near it.

“You’re gonna get pulled over,” Jason said, through his laughter as Bruce hit 60 MPH out on the road outside the estate. On a road with a speed limit of 20.

“Probably,” Bruce agreed, obviously not caring one bit as he shifted gears and started going faster.

The car only his 70, though, before he slowed down to come to a stop sign at the end of their long, semi-private road.

“Okay, we have a couple options here,” Bruce said, looking over at Jason, “There’s a high school with a large parking lot we can play in, or there’s an industrial area with a network of roads that are deserted on Saturdays. Which do you think sounds better?”

Jason fidgeted in his chair, but asked, “Which one can you go faster on?”

“The industrial complex,” Bruce said, immediately turning the car to the left and zipping off again.

Bruce did keep the speed down, though, as they drove through all the little neighborhoods. Which was probably good, because Jason saw a few kids playing in their yards, and hitting a kid would probably be super bad.

But it only took a couple minutes before they were suddenly staring at a wide open straight road.

A huge wide open straight road, with four lanes running in either direction.

Obviously it was meant for tons and tons of traffic, but true to Bruce’s word, it was completely deserted.

“This was built up to be a large industry area,” Bruce explained, as he pulled onto the road and came to a stop right in the middle of it, “and there ended up being only two companies to move here. It’s one of my favorite places to play with a car.”

“It looks like a race track,” Jason observed, leaning forward in his seat so he could see over the dash, at the brake marks on the street right in front of them.

“It’s used as one. Ready?”

Quickly, Jason sat back in his seat again and nodded enthusiastically.

He was so ready.

Bruce smiled and put one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch, then floored it.

Jason it thrown back into the seat hard, they accelerated so fast.

And all Jason could do was laugh.

Bruce treated the road like it’s a race track, circling it several times, making the car slide sometimes in his turns, the tires squealing as he did, every single time making Jason laugh harder.

It was the coolest fucking thing Jason had ever done.

They drove for nearly half an hour, Bruce driving around some of the smaller roads around the big huge buildings, and even doing a donut in the middle of a parking lot. Jason just knew that had to be terrible for the tires, but it was so cool to do.

So, so cool.

But eventually, Bruce did turn back to the manor, and by then, Jason’s stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

“You like this car, huh?” Bruce said, once they were going slow again, back through the neighborhoods with the kids.

“This is like, my dream car, dude,” Jason said, sitting back up to look at all the buttons on the dash. He hadn’t paid much attention to any of them. “Or, well, one of them.”

He had technically just learned about it a few days before, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t instantly become a dream car.

Bruce held a hand out, motioning at the radio as if saying ‘go ahead, mess with it,’ so Jason did.

He pressed all the buttons.

“Why is a Hellcat one of your dream cars?” Bruce asked, after Jason had figured out how to work the radio and was flipping through the seventy-billion satellite channels.

“I watched a bunch of youtube videos about these the other day,” he said, “I thought they were so cool with the red key. And badass looking too. I didn’t know you had one.”

“What are your other dream cars?” Bruce asked, as he grabbed the red key from the cup holder and held it out for Jason to take.

Happily, Jason took it and started inspecting it, looking at all the buttons in it, before he found a little switch that released the actual key from inside.

Although, obviously the car didn’t need the key. It needed the chip inside the key, that told the computer it was present.

“There’s a lot,” Jason eventually said, as he kept playing with the key. He couldn’t really think of car names, though. “I’ve seen a lot of really cool cars. I just never got to research them until, ya know. You gave me a laptop and stuff.”

“Right,” Bruce said, slowly, “What have you been researching on your laptop?”

“I saw an episode of some show about Roush Mustangs,” Jason said, as he dropped the key back into the cupholder and pulled his legs up on the seat, to sit criss crossed, “those look cool. Although your lambo is way cooler. Your Tesla is awesome, too. I always wanted to see a Tesla in person, then you had one.”

“The Tesla is my favorite commuter car,” Bruce said, as he shifted gears and sped up, now they were back on the semi-private road that led to the manor, “but almost all my other cars are more fun to drive.”

Jason nodded. He could see that, since the Tesla literally drove itself. “This one looks so fun to drive.”

“Tell you what,” Bruce said, once he reached the gate to the manor. This time, he had to come to a complete stop and type in his code and do the eye thing, “If you’re still here when you’re 15, I’ll tech you to drive on this car.”

“What?” Jason said, a little stunned. Because, “really??” He hadn’t even… thought that far ahead.

Not like that, at least. He’d only thought about getting through living with Bruce until he was 18, so he could move out and go to college.

But obviously if he was going to make it to 18, that would mean being here when he was 15 or 16, and…. well. That was when kids were supposed to learn to drive.

Why would he have ever thought Bruce would do that, though?? Teach him to drive??

That was what parents were supposed to do for their kids, and Jason was just a foster kid Bruce got stuck with, because Gordon made Bruce take him.

But, but, but… Bruce said he cared about him… so…

“With the red key?” Jason eventually asked, as Bruce pulled the car into the garage, and started slowly backing it up into its spot.

He paused, however, to give Jason a flat look as he said, “No.” He couldn’t hold the face, though, because he started laughing and added, “No way, with the regular key.”

“Aw.”

Although he supposed 500 horsepower was nothing to sneeze at.

“But,” Bruce said, “I might let you test out the red key, once you prove you’re a good driver.”

“Really?” Jason asked, sitting up straighter in his seat, trying to gauge Bruce’s sincerity.

He didn’t look like he was lying, so Jason cheered, “All right! I can’t wait to be 15.”

“Why don’t you focus on turning 13, first,” Bruce said, cutting the car off.

“Fine,” Jason whined, collapsing back into his seat dramatically. He righted himself quickly, though, to unfasten his seatbelt and hop out. “That was so cool, though.”

Bruce got out of the car himself, and just watched with a smile as Jason bounced up to the front of the car, to look at it and all the bugs they picked up.

Poor bugs, they didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Jason whirled around, a second later, when Alfred cleared his throat from the manor door.

“If you gentlemen are done, lunch has been waiting for you for quite a while. Do come eat it before it gets any colder.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Jason said, at the same time Bruce said, “Sure thing, Alf.”

Alfred quickly retreated, so Jason turned to Bruce and asked, “Is he mad at us?”

“Nah.” Bruce shut his door and started walking to the manor door, but stopped when Jason didn’t start moving in step. “He’s not mad, Jason. That’s the face he makes when he’s very happy and doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure why Alfred would be ‘very happy,’ but Jason wouldn’t complain about that.

Bruce took a step forward, so this time Jason followed along, and stopped on the steps as Bruce put the key back in the box.

“You’re really going to teach me how to drive on that?” he asked, pointing back at the Hellcat. He kind of had a hard time believing it.

“Yes, I promise,” Bruce said, smiling when Jason shot him a grin.

“All right!” Jason cheered, grinning so wide his face started hurting again. “No take backs, okay?” he said, holding his fist out toward Bruce, “Fist bump.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be startled, apparently, because he looked at Jason’s fist like he had no idea what to do as he said, “What?”

“You’re hopeless,” Jason groaned, slouching dramatically before he straightened up and reached for one of Bruce’s hands. “Look, it’s easy.”

Bruce lifted his hand cautiously, and let Jason forced his fingers to form a fist as he said, “Make a fist. There. Okay, now pound it.” Jason make his own fist again and bumped it against Bruce’s hand, grinning wide again. “There. No take backs, we fist bumped.”

“Uh, yes,” Bruce said, like he couldn’t figure out what to fucking say. His smile grew wide, though, and then morphed into something fonder. “I swear it, no take backs.”

Jason fidgeted, under Bruce’s stare, so he quickly pushed open the door as he said, “Come on. Alfred said lunch is getting cold.”

He didn’t want to think about whatever Bruce was thinking.

They’d just had a freaking awesome time, Jason was not about to ruin it. No sir.

So he skipped on ahead, to the kitchen where Alfred had a couple paninis sitting on the counter, and just focused on the fact that Bruce was going to teach him to drive.

In the Hellcat.

All because Jason liked the car.

How fucking awesome was that????

This is chapter 46 of Reclaiming Innocence, slightly edited to read as a one-shot. Link to story can be found on my masterlist. 

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Nanami

We’ve never seen Hanse and Nanami in the same room before...I’m just saying, the chances of them being the same person are higher than 0...gender neutral reader and no content warnings for this :) 11.8k words

(s/n) = nanami’s screen name

Nanami Kento wasn’t what usually came to mind when one thought of Youtubers. He was a salaryman, wearing pristine suits and going to work at ungodly hours. He had a stern face and rarely spoke about himself unless asked, preferring to keep most conversations short and to the point.

But Nanami didn’t think of himself as a Youtuber. He liked to refer to himself as a home cook who just happened to make videos and post them to Youtube. He had amassed a good two million followers and he didn’t show his face or hands, not even speaking as he cooked.

All Nanami dreamed about when he was at work was coming home and filming his next project. As an avid foodie, he was constantly thinking up new recipes to make. At first, filming himself had been a way of documenting his skills and keeping track of recipes without having to write them down, but as time went on people seemed to become enthralled with him.

“It finally came.” Collecting the mail on an early Saturday, Nanami’s smile was hard to contain as he grabbed the box that was waiting for him. He’d put in an order almost a month ago for this item and as he speed walked back to his apartment, his heart thumped with joy at getting to use it.

“It’s beautiful.” Holding up the cat bread mold, Nanami was itching to get to his kitchen and put it to use. Grabbing his camera, he began to prep his filming space. He was lucky to have such a large east facing window that his dining table could sit in front of and get the perfect light for his videos.

Making sure everything was perfectly positioned, Nanami pressed record and started to add ingredients into his mixing bowl. It was perfectly silent in his apartment, the most ideal environment to film in. Nanami didn’t add any background music to his videos, preferring to let the natural acoustics of his actions shine through.

Waiting for the dough to proof, Nanami flicked through some comments on his Youtube videos. He didn’t really care about what people had to say about his content, he only did this for himself, but sometimes it was nice to see what other like-minded individuals had to say. And he’d be lying if he said the comments about how aesthetic his videos were didn’t make his ego swell a bit.

When the bread was done and popped out of the mold in a perfect cat head shape, Nanami had to bite his lip to stifle a pleased sigh as he turned the camera off. He’d made it a point not to reveal his identity, refusing to let even his whole hand be in a shot and he wasn’t about to let it slip now with a hint of his voice.

“Kento you’ve really outdone yourself.” Biting into a slice of toasted bread with strawberry jam, Nanami smiled fondly at his creation. There wasn’t anything that could ruin this moment for him, not even the sudden knock on his front door.

It was a good thing Nanami was so good at setting up and taking down his cameras and lights, he didn’t want to explain to whoever was on the other side what exactly he did in his free time.

“(Y/N), hello.” As soon as Nanami opened the door and saw you, his next door neighbor, a light blush painted his cheeks. You’d moved in about six months ago into the corner unit next to his and Nanami had been smitten ever since.

“Hi Nanami.” You seemed equally as bashful, waving with a few fingers before tucking your hands behind your back. Meeting his eye for a moment, you let out a nervous giggle. “I was wondering if you’d gotten any mail addressed to me? I was supposed to get a letter from my grandma but I think the mailman might have given it to you instead.”

“Let me check.” Nanami had been so preoccupied with his bread mold that he didn’t bother to check the other mail he’d gotten. Taking a step away from the door, he was about to go further into his apartment but stuttered to a stop. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure.” Slowly stepping in and shutting the door, you rocked back and forth on your heels. Nanami was glad you couldn’t look him in the eye otherwise you would have seen the blooming blush going across his cheeks.

He’d wanted to invite you in for a cup of tea and a slice of cake when you first moved in but he wasn’t able to gather the courage and by the time he finally felt ready nearly four months had passed.

“I actually do have it, (Y/N).” Coming back into the lounge room with the letter in hand, he quickly spotted you standing by the dining table looking at the bread he made in awe.

“Oops, sorry Nanami, I didn’t mean to be nosy!” Shuffling back, you took one last look at the bread before turning away. “I just saw the cat shape and got curious!” Taking the letter from him, you looked like you wanted to say something more, but held your tongue. “Well, I’ll be go-”

“Would you like to have a piece?” Nanami blurted out, holding out a hand to stop you from walking away.

“Really, you’d let me have some?”

“Sit down, I’ll pour you some tea.” Pulling out a chair for you, Nanami disappeared into his kitchen and gripped the countertops tightly. A sense of accomplishment washed over him that nearly beat out the bread; he was finally getting to have tea with you.

“Nanami, this is amazing!” Taking a bite out of the jam covered bread, your brows rose high on your face. “You really made this?”

“Mhmm. I got the mold this morning.” Taking a sip of his own tea, Nanami had to fight the smile on his face from becoming too big at seeing you enjoy his creation. He never usually shared with other people, either eating it all himself or giving it to the elderly ladies down the hall that didn’t know how to use the internet.

“Do you bake all the time?” Scooting to the edge of your seat, you almost looked like a child with a hopeful gleam in your eyes.

“I do, I quite enjoy it.”

The conversation began to revolve around food that Nanami had made, his favorites and yours, and then to just general cooking. It felt good to talk about this side of his life with someone, especially you, and the both of you quickly lost track of time.

“I should get going, Nanami, I feel like I’ve taken up enough of your time.” An hour later, you were standing up from your seat. The bread had quickly dwindled as the conversation wore on and there were only a few slices left.

“I enjoyed our talk.” Letting a full smile grace his face now, Nanami walked you to the door. Bidding you a final farewell, as soon as the door closed Nanami leaned against it, pressing his forehead into the wood and letting out a deep sigh. “You did it, Kento.”

Patting himself on the back for several days, Nanami looked forward to the next time he could see you. You’d let slip that you really liked cookies, so the only thing on Nanami’s mind was getting the perfect cookie recipe and making a batch for you.

Over the course of the next week, Nanami made a new cookie every single day. He knew what flavors you liked but he also wanted to try and give you something new, impress you with his skills and see that pleased look come over your face once again.

He also filmed himself making the cookies as well, making sure the videos were the most aesthetic they could be. He didn’t know if you watched his videos and even if you did he wouldn’t want to know, but on the off chance you saw them, Nanami wanted you to love it.

Finding the perfect recipe after a lot of back and forth with himself, Nanami was ready to share a plate of cookies with you. Sliding out into the hall with the plate tightly clutched to his chest, he turned to your apartment.

Nanami was happy you lived in the corner unit, it felt like he got you all to himself despite only having one proper conversation with you. There weren’t other neighbors trying to steal your attention away; it was perfect.

Right as Nanami knocked on the door, a sharp scream came from inside your apartment and he nearly dropped the plate in shock.

“(Y/N)?! Are you okay?” Knocking loudly, Nanami’s body spiked with adrenaline. There was silence on the other end, making him consider picking the lock or calling the building manager.

“N-nanami?” Your voice and body trembled as you opened the door. Quickly giving you a once over, Nanami was relieved to see no physical injuries on you.

“What’s wrong? Why’d you scream?” Eager to get the answer from you, Nanami leaned closer. Squirming a bit, you took a step back and opened the door for him to enter.

“Promise not to laugh, okay?” There was a slight pout in your lips as you spoke and Nanami almost cooed at you.

“I promise.”

“A spider came down from the ceiling and scared me.” Panning over to your lounge room, Nanami couldn’t see any spider. The only things he saw were your furniture and a PC setup off to one side.

“Where is it?” Following you to the desk, Nanami quirked a brow at how impressive the equipment looked. There were two monitors, an expensive looking microphone and a ring light that looked like one he owned.

“Right there!” Grabbing his arm, you flung yourself behind him and pointed at your desk. Right in the middle was a large spider, scurrying back and forth. Balancing the plate in one hand, he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly squished the bug.

“I got it for you.” Folding the cloth back up, Nanami let himself exhale. Having you cling to him had almost stopped him from being able to do anything and he needed all the focus he could get if he wanted to help you.

“You didn’t have to use that, I would have grabbed you a paper towel!”

“It’s alright, it probably would have gotten away if we had waited.”

“Wait!” Grabbing onto the handkerchief before Nanami could tuck it back into his pocket, you gave it a gentle tug. “Let me clean it for you at least.” Nodding, Nanami let it go with no resistance.

Trying not to be nosy, he didn’t dwell too long at your computer, opting instead to follow you to your kitchen. He was pretty sure he saw the title to one of his videos on an open tab and it filled his chest with a flutter.

“What’s on the plate, Nanami?” Your question broke him from his short daydream of talking about his videos with you.

“Huh?” Nanami completely forgot about the plate in his hands, having gotten wrapped up in his own thoughts. Feeling the weight of the plate come back into his consciousness, Nanami cleared his throat. “Oh I uh, I made some cookies for you.”

“You did?” Dropping his handkerchief into the sink, you fully turned to him. Leaning close to the plate, you let out a small hum. “What kind are they?”

“I tried a new recipe out, they’re choux au craquelin with salted caramel cream.” Watching you process the name in your head made Nanami grin. You probably had no idea what he had just said, evident as the dumb nod you gave him.

“Do they go well with tea?”

As Nanami sat at your kitchen table waiting for you to return with some tea, he couldn’t help but look over your whole apartment. It was a simple one bedroom like he had and your furniture suited what Nanami assumed was your taste nicely.

“I almost don’t want to eat one, they look too nice!” Back with some tea, you turned one of the cookies over in your hand.

“If you don’t eat them they’ll go bad.” Nanami teased lightly, taking a bite of one for himself. You let out a little peep and nodded quickly, taking a generous bite of the dessert.

“Nanami.” Gripping the edge of the table, your eyes were blown wide. “This is amazing, I love it!” Whenever Nanami got a compliment, usually from Gojo, he brushed it off and thought nothing of it. But to hear you say that you loved what he made and to see the smile on your face as you take another bite - it made Nanami’s brain overflow with dopamine, a fuzzy feeling tingling the tips of his fingers and warming his chest.

“You really do?” He unintentionally whispers, having to close his eyes lest he stare hearts right through you.

“Mhmm!” Taking a sip of your tea, you giggle a little to yourself. “I feel pretty special too, you made this whole plate just for me.”

You’re special to me, that’s why, Nanami thought in his head, biting the tip of his tongue hard to keep from blurting it out. Looking over at your computer setup once more, Nanami decided to comment on that instead of feeding the blush going up the back of his neck.

“You have a pretty nice setup there, (Y/N). Do you make Youtube videos or something?” Leaning back in his chair, Nanami forced his body to relax and his stomach to loosen up. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, a sudden shy demeanor washing over you.

“I’m just trying it out, I wanted to see what streaming and stuff was like.”

“Really?” Nanami had to choose his next words wisely, not wanting to seem too excited. “What’s the name of your channel, I’ll follow you.”

“You will?” There was a hopeful lilt to your voice, yet your body language was still hesitant. “I don’t know, I might get too embarrassed knowing you’ll be watching me.” It was Nanami’s turn to join you in being shy. He made a noise in the back of his throat, quickly taking a sip of his tea to cover it up.

“D-don’t be. I want to support you, that’s what neighbors do.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Nanami slid it over to you. “Go ahead and pull up your channel, I’ll subscribe right now.”

As Nanami left your apartment, fifteen minutes later and with an empty plate tucked under his arm, he was thoroughly surprised to know you wanted to start a Youtube channel. He wanted to help you, give you some tips and ways to make the algorithm like you, but he wasn’t ready to give away his secret just yet.

Sitting at his desk that night with his laptop in front of him, Nanami pulled up your channel. Seeing your first video, aptly titled ‘introduction’, he clicked.

“Hi everyone watching.” You sounded and looked so timid sitting at your desk, wringing your hands in front of you and smoothing them out on the wood as soon as you realized what you were doing. “My name is (Y/N) and this is my channel.”

“Hi (Y/N).” Nanami answered back, snorting at his own silliness.

“I’m going to be posting videos of my life, like vlogs and stuff, but also fun cooking videos! I really admire so many people on Youtube that can cook, I want to try and recreate their recipes! I especially like this one, it’s my favorite channel.” A few different Youtube channels popped up on screen and right in the middle and the one you gestured to was Nanamis.

He didn’t hear the rest of the video where you talked about potential upload schedules and other facts about yourself. He didn’t even hear you say goodbye or notice that the screen had faded to black. All Nanami could think about was the fact that his channel was your favorite.

Watching the other few videos you’d posted, a couple short ones of you running errands or showing off some clothes, Nanami vowed to watch every single one of your videos. Despite being pretty active on Youtube, Nanami didn’t watch a lot of videos himself, but your channel was at the top of his list.

For the next month Nanami waited for you to post a cooking video and while he waited he put out a few videos with easier steps, things you could follow along with even if you had little to no cooking skills.

A ping on his phone on a Saturday night had him walking briskly to his computer. You finally posted a video of yourself cooking one of his recipes, a dish he had made for Itadori’s birthday: a strawberry crepe cake.

“Hi, welcome to my kitchen!” Nanami was immediately smitten within the first few seconds of the video. The apron you had on was cute and tied around your waist with a bow and there was a large container of strawberries just waiting to be used.

As the video went on, Nanami openly chuckled at the mistakes you made from being so nervous in front of the camera, like dropping the egg shells into the bowl and dumping too much flour in right after.

“I’m so nervous to flip the crepe over!” The camera was over your stove now where a crepe was slowly beginning to burn in the pan the longer you waited.

“Don’t be scared, you can do it.” Nanami whispered to the screen, biting his lip as you attempted to flip it over. Managing to do it right on the first try, you let out a loud yelp of victory.

“Oops, I better be quiet! It’s like 2am right now and my neighbor is sleeping!” Upon your admittance, Nanami suddenly remembers hearing a small shout late at night a few days ago that had woken him up for just a moment. “He actually said he’d watch all my videos, so sorry if I woke you up!” Crossing your fingers in front of the camera, you went back to talking about the cooking.

Nanami felt special that you mentioned him in a video and now he wished he was awake to try your cake. You put way more strawberries than he did on it, and your whipped cream application was a lot messier and spilled down the sides but that only made him want to try it more.

“Okay, I’m all done! Let’s put a picture side by side and see how I did.” Holding up a photo of Nanami’s cake, you whined a little at seeing such stark differences. “Well mine isn’t perfectly aesthetic, but I bet it’ll still taste good!”

Was it rational to be annoyed with himself for not being awake at 2am on a Wednesday night to eat a strawberry crepe cake with you? No it wasn’t, but Nanami still felt it. He would have to tell you to cook at a more reasonable time the next opportunity he got to talk to you so he could try your food.

Deciding to do just that, Nanami grabbed his phone and called you. He managed to give you his number after subscribing to your Youtube channel, stating that if you ever needed help cooking you could ask him.

“Hello?” He could almost hear you on the other side of the wall.

“(Y/N), it’s Nanami Kento. From next door.” How many other Nanami Kento’s could you possibly know? Not a lot, he was hoping. You laughed on the other end and he could definitely hear it through the wall.

“Hi neighbor. What’s up?”

“I watched your Youtube video.”

“Y-you saw it?!” You made a noise in the back of your throat and a soft whine followed. “God I feel so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, I told you I’d watch your videos and support you.”

“I know, I just- you didn’t have to call me and say it.”

“I don’t like texting.” Nanami smirked, he could just imagine your face right now hidden under your palm.

“Well, what did you think of it?”

“I liked it, you did really well on the cake. But I do have one complaint.”

“What is it?” You gasped loudly, nearly dropping the phone as you wondered what he could possibly have to say.

“I just wish you’d made it when I was awake, I would have loved to try it.” There was a long pause between you and Nanami could hear you flop onto your couch.

“Really? You would try it?” Nanami let out a short hum of approval. “Let me get some more strawberries then.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it made his own lips tug upward.

Ending the call shortly after, Nanami thought about your conversation while he was filming his own video. Gojo had given him a box of fresh peaches as a gift from his recent vacation and Nanami had his heart set on making a peach tart.

Replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, Nanami wasn’t as careful as he usually was about concealing his identity. He couldn’t find it in him to put on gloves to cover his hands when all he was really thinking about was having cake with you from a recipe he had made himself.

When he was editing, he almost threw out the whole video. There were many segments where his hands were on full display and one where part of his arm poked into the frame as well. But the rest of the video was too perfect to completely toss out and unable to cut out the scenes of his hands, Nanami posted it anyway with a dying hope that his viewers wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

Waking up the day after posting the video however, Nanami was sorely mistaken. He was used to videos going viral and trending for several days, some even getting articles written about them. But going viral for his hands wasn’t something Nanami thought was possible.

The video alone had gotten upwards of 5 million views in just a day and was still steadily climbing. Despite going on all his social media accounts and muting every single word that could possibly have anything to do with him, Nanami still ended up seeing videos and pictures of his own hands on Twitter, with an article about him breaking the internet as well.

And one of the videos he saw had your face in it. Captioned ‘tiktokers reacting to hand reveal’, he felt the need to click on it. What did you think of him?

“So I’ve seen the headlines but I saved my reaction so I could get it on camera.” You spoke hurriedly, wrapped up in a hoodie and blanket as you sat down on the couch, the camera on a tripod across from you. “Time to see the video.”

Nanami waited with bated breath as he watched you watch his video. There were some obvious cuts in the video from where you skipped forward, and right as his hands came on screen your jaw dropped.

“I- I uh-” You were clearly very flustered, slapping a hand over your face and turning away from the screen. “Why is my face burning over some hands?” Laughing in disbelief, you watched the rest of the video and let out a girlish squeal before cutting it off.

Nanami wasn’t proud to admit that he watched your reaction more than a few times, finding an odd sense of pride take shape inside him. You didn’t even know it was him behind the camera yet he was able to leave such a profound impression on you.

With a new and growing fanbase eating up every single thing he posted now, Nanami found it hard to live in anonymity like he used to. Gone were the days of quietly replying or liking comments on his Youtube channel, he now had thousands of comments on all platforms asking to see more of his hands or for him to possibly speak in his next video.

He was eager to know what your opinion on him was now, what you thought of his online persona. You were still making videos of his cooking, your channel having gotten a boost in subscribers from your reaction video, and you sometimes mentioned his channel name.

On a quiet Saturday at half past noon, Nanami found himself lounging lazily on his sofa with his hair still undone and coffee stains on his sweats. It was uncharacteristic for him to be so lax so late into the day but it was also uncharacteristic of him to stay up past 1am watching the silly little livestream you were doing in your kitchen with muffled giggles he could hear coming through the wall.

Staring at the ceiling and drifting in and out of sleep as the TV filled the silence in the room, Nanami almost missed the subtle vibration of his phone against the coffee table if there hadn’t been a lull in the TV.

(Y/N): hey neighbor are you busy?

The message from you had him suddenly alert and focused, sitting straight up and planting both feet on the floor.

(Nanami): no, I’m not

(Y/N): then…

(Y/N): do you think you’d wanna come over and help me bake something? I’m doing my first Youtube collab and I’m so nervous

(Nanami): I’ll be over in five.

He didn’t even wait for your response before leaping from the couch and bolting to his bedroom. Nanami got dressed and ready in record time, splashing plenty of cold water on his face to wake him up even further before slicking his hair back and doing one last check in the mirror before rushing to the front door.

“(Y/N).” He was knocking on your door exactly five minutes after texting you.

“Nanami!” You opened the door with a smile, a light colored tied around your waist that was stained from previous use. “Come on in!” Ushering him across the threshold, you made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

“So, you’re doing your first collab, huh?” Following slowly behind you, Nanami thought of all the emails sitting in his inbox from brands and other content creators alike asking him to promote their product or work on a video together. He ignored them all in favor of anonymity, but if you were to message him about it, he would answer in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, I joined a discord server full of other cooking Youtubers and some of them asked me to collab with them!” The smile on your face was beaming and the excitement in your voice made Nanami’s heart swell with pride.

“Well then, let’s get started.” Grabbing the spare apron you handed him, Nanami panned over the scene before him. Your kitchen wasn’t a total mess yet, the counters were still relatively clear with just a few bowls out and measuring spoons just waiting to be used. “What’re we making?”

“Ha, well…” Scratching your cheek bashfully, you shrugged your shoulders and looked around your kitchen. “That’s where you come in, I have no idea what to make.​​” Letting out a soft chuckle under his breath, Nanami nodded to himself and took a step toward the cabinets.

“What are the others making?” He asked while idly sifting through the ingredients you had.

“Take a look.” Showing him your phone, you swiped through the messages between all of you. There were multiple different desserts being made, recipe ideas being thrown around, all with a specific theme.

“So, you chose the colors of the rainbow?” Nanami skimmed over the messages where you decided colors and it seems you’d been chosen to do blue. He’d just seen someone else who got red go with a strawberry cheesecake with swirls of deep red mixed in with lighter pink.

“Do you know any desserts that are blue, cause I don’t.” Throwing your head back with a whine, you stared at the ceiling and let Nanami get back to digging through your cabinets.

“What about a blue surf cake?”

“A what?” You parroted, and your owlish blink made Nanami’s lips curl up in a soft smile.

“It’s a blue cheesecake that looks like ocean waves, I’ve made it a few times before and you don’t need to bake it.” He’d actually filmed a video on it about a year ago and it was one of his most proud creations. Quickly typing it into your phone, you pulled up his video within seconds.

“Oh thank god he made one.” Sighing in relief, you watched Nanami’s video with rapt interest. “This is perfect! But I don’t have this stuff, this butterfly tea powder.”

“I do.” He’d overbought for that video and had been stuck with the stuff for ages. Turning on his heel, he mumbled something unintelligible before leaving your apartment and reappearing in less than two minutes.

“You’re just giving this to me?” Raising your brows high in shock, you took the relatively full package from Nanami’s hands and opened it, a small cloud of blue powder puffing out upon its release.

“Yes, I want you to do well on this collab.” Turning away from you, Nanami began to grab the necessary ingredients from your shelves.

“Nanami.” Your voice was a bit low and when he turned around your bottom lip was jutted out into a pout.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re the best neighbor ever!” Clutching the powder tightly against your chest with one arm, you raise the other one and rest your hand on his shoulder. “Whenever you need help or want some tea and cookies, just ask me and I’ll do it!” You were eternally grateful and Nanami could feel the sincerity in your words and the warmth of your hand melting into his skin.

“I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer, so don’t take it back.”

“Never!” You shook your head, clutching his shoulder tightly. “Now let’s make the best damn blue cake ever!”

Standing off to the side, Nanami watched you film your introduction. He felt almost awkward seeing you talk to the camera and talk animatedly about what you were going to make when his own introductions were quiet and calm, slowly panning across his work space and showing what he would be making with captions dotting the screen.

“I also have a friend helping me make this cake, would you like to wave hello?” You glanced at Nanami, fully expecting him to reject your offer but he surprised you by lifting a hand into frame and giving a very brief wave. A little giggle left your lips and you gave him a thumbs up, turning back to the camera. “He’s really good at baking, so with his help hopefully this cake won’t turn out to be a huge disaster.” Laughing to yourself, you waited a few seconds before turning the camera off.

“Give yourself more credit, (Y/N), you’re good at baking too. I bet you won’t even need me.” Going over the ingredients list one last time, Nanami recounted your videos and couldn’t fight a small smirk on his lips. You’d certainly improved but to call you good was a bit of an exaggeration.

“You’re right!” But you were bolstered by his words nonetheless and your chest puffed up with confidence. “I can do this no problem!”

Maybe it was because he was there, or maybe it was because the words he’d said to you before starting had jinxed it, but Nanami was sure any skills you’d learned had regressed severely.

From the first step to the last, there was a fumble on your part. Adding too many ingredients that didn’t need to be there, adding too little of what the recipe actually called for, snacking on the pieces for the crust of the cake and choking on camera from accidentally inhaling a piece - it was almost as if you were trying to appear inept at even the most basic of kitchen duties.

“It took us so long to get here but we can finally add the filling in!” What took Nanami barely 25 minutes had taken you almost an hour to complete. Your apron and fingers were smudged with blue powder and the kitchen was in noticeably more disarray than when you started, clear proof of the trials and tribulations you went through. Silently cheering you on from behind the camera, Nanami held his breath and watched you pour the mixture into its final pan. “Now time to pop it into the freezer and wait for it to set!”

“Time to start cleaning up.” Nanami mumbled to himself as you turned the camera off. Your cooking style was much different than his, pots and pans carelessly thrown into the sink and dirty utensils left on the counter were not things he was used to seeing.

“Do we have to?” You whined as you set the cake in the freezer.

“Will you clean up after I leave?” He quirked a brow at you, a slow smile coming to his face as you groaned and shook your head.

“Alright fine, we can clean up now.” Nanami was already rolling up his sleeves before you could start to speak and your sulky tone made a chuckle come out of him. Flicking on the sink and filling it with water, he could see you gather dishes out of the corner of his eye. It was quiet in the kitchen now without you narrating your actions for the video and Nanami welcomed the silence, it gave him a chance to think about what to say to you next.

“Really, thank you for helping me.” Coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with him at the sink, you let your arm rest snugly next to his as you started to help wash the dishes.

“You’re welcome.” Shifting just the tiniest bit closer, Nanami scrubbed away in silence. Without the constant action and ever present camera turned off, the scene between the two of you could almost be described as domestic, as if the two of you had just gotten done cooking for yourselves and not a Youtube video and now were in comfortable quiet as you cleaned up the aftermath.

“I should think about what to make for dinner, all that filming made me hungry.” The adrenaline from the collab was still high inside you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you washed off a sudsy dish.

“What are you in the mood for?” Nanami was either stupidly brave or just plain stupid for leaning into this domestic feeling by asking you that question. He could be crossing a line by trying to imply he wanted to eat with you, essentially overstaying his welcome now that he was no longer needed.

“I kind of want pasta, what about you?” Glancing up at him, you were glad he wanted to stay longer and the proof was felt on the tingling warmth prickling your entire body.

“Pasta sounds good. Red or white sauce?”

“Red. I have a great wine to pair it with.”

“You’re into wine?”

“Not really.” You giggled shyly. “I wanted to start a series where I pair different foods with wines but I got too drunk trying to film the first episode.”

“I would love to see that video, (Y/N).” Nanami snorted loudly, a smirk on his lips as he dried his hands.

“We’ll have to have a private screening then.” Playfully bumping your shoulders together, you followed suit and dried your hands.

“Yes, yes we will.”

Twenty minutes later and dinner was prepared and served, both you and Nanami sitting at your dining table with full glasses of beautiful red wine with the bottle sitting not too far off in case you needed more. Eating quietly and making lively conversation, the wine in your glasses never seemed to dip, always being topped up until the bottle was empty and you were shuffling to grab another bottle.

“(Y/N), how much wine do you have?” Nanami chuckled, a drunken blush coating his cheeks as he watched you open your fridge. He could just barely see the bottom of a few bottles from his position at the table.

“Y-you don’t wanna know!” You laughed far too loudly for the situation and slammed the door closed, handing Nanami the bottle as you collapsed in your seat.

“Well, cheers.” Opening the new bottle and topping off your glasses, Nanami held his up and clinked it with yours when you held it up. Letting the liquid drip down his throat, Nanami looked over at you from over the rim of his glass. You were already cute in his eyes, downright adorable even, but to see you giggly and drunk with him made his heart swell even more.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Whining slightly, you held your glass up in front of your face while your own face burned horribly.

“Like what?” He chuckled in return, mimicking your gesture.

“Like- like- you know!” Waving a hand around, you turned away from him slightly and took a generous sip of wine. Silence hung between you briefly, words left unsaid on the tips of both your tongues yet the fear of possible rejection - or even worse, regret - permeated your drunken minds.

“I’m just having a good time, (Y/N), is that a crime?” Leaning back in his seat, Nanami laughed to himself. He was definitely embarrassed from being caught looking at you like a fool in love but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“You like having dinner with me?” Quirking up a hopeful brow, you rest your elbows on the table and shimmy just a tad bit closer. Your knees brushed under the table and the feeling drew you closer with Nanami pulling his chair in just so he could stretch his legs out and feel your feet begin to tangle together.

“I do, a lot.” It surely beat eating dinner alone for the thousandth time this year. The conversation quickly died down with both of you just silently looking at each other with a half lidded gaze, drunken smiles pushing your cheeks up without you even noticing it.

Soon the food ran cold and the second bottle of wine was emptied and you had to separate to take care of the dishes. Pushing Nanami towards the living room, you made him promise to go sit on the couch while you set the plates in the sink and put away the leftovers.

“Nanami, I have some ice cream if you-” Slightly stumbling out into the living room with a pint of chocolate ice cream, you stopped short upon finding Nanami dozing away on the couch with his body fully stretched out and relaxed.

Going up to the back of the couch, you leaned over it and close to his face, taking in every miniscule detail and pore that you could. Nanami was always so poised around you that it was a rare treat for him to relax like this, especially enough to go to sleep on your couch.

“Nanami…Nanami…” You whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. The action earned you a tired grunt in response and Nanami pushing your hand away and turning further into the couch. Shaking his shoulder again, you giggled when he swatted you away.

Returning the ice cream to the freezer, you grabbed a spare blanket and pillow, nearly dropping them both as you stumbled through your apartment. Throwing the blanket over his body haphazardly, you gingerly grabbed his head and put the pillow underneath it.

“Good night, Kento.” Whispering above his sleeping body, you felt butterflies in your stomach looking at him. You tried to stamp down the crush you had on him, reasoning with yourself that a man this serious and composed would never go for someone like you, but it never worked. You found yourself daydreaming about him constantly when you should have been working, fantasizing about having him join you for a meal or perhaps an outing to the city.

Taking one last look at his sleeping form, you drug yourself away to your bedroom to get some sleep of your own. The knowledge that Nanami was just a few feet away in the living room while you lay in your bed kept you up, nervous fits of giggles erupting from you as your imagination wandered.

Waking up some time later with a pounding headache and early morning light coming through your open curtains, you listened for any sound of Nanami still in your apartment. Taking a brief glance at the time, you expected him to have crawled home by now and be nursing his hangover with a cup of coffee.

Heaving yourself out of bed, you walked as quickly as possible to the bathroom and fumbled in the drawers for some painkillers. Downing a couple with no hesitation, you splashed some cool water on your face before finishing up and leaving the room.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Your voice was terribly quiet as your eyes landed on Nanami who was still fast asleep on the couch, completely disheveled with his shirt hiked up to reveal the relaxed muscles of his abdomen. Even deep in sleep he still had prominent abs with the dusting of a light happy trail below his belly button.

Reaching out in a trance, you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, just barely grazing his scalp with your nails. Repeating the motion several times, you worked out any knots he may have gotten during the night and further mussed the tresses.

“Feels good.” Nanami grumbled with his eyes still tightly closed. His voice was impossibly low and groggy as he twisted and turned on the couch. Your fingers went to scratch at his scalp when Nanami’s twisting earned him a tumble right to the ground and a surprised shout sounded upon contact.

“You okay?” Leaning over the couch, you gripped the cushioned backing tightly.

“F-fine, I’m-” Clearing his throat and trying to grab his bearings, Nanami ripped the blanket off him and sat up in a huff. “I’m fine.” As he spoke, he winced, clutching at his head.

“Hungover?” You asked with a small grin. Holding up a finger as he nodded, you made your way to the bathroom to grab the painkiller. “Come grab some water.” Motioning to the dining table, your grin got wider watching him struggle to stand.

“Do you have any coffee?”

Ten minutes later, Nanami was sunk into a dining chair with his forehead plastered to the table. He couldn’t even feel any regret for overstaying his welcome and getting too drunk to go home, all he could feel was a sick churning in his stomach and a throbbing in his head. The coffee had done a good job of waking him up, prompting him to fix his clothes and hair as best he could given the circumstance.

“Here you go.” Setting a plate down in front of him, you tried not to groan as you sat down yourself. Peeling his face off the table, Nanami never thought he could be this happy to see a plate of food.

Barely grunting out a word of thanks, he grabbed his utensils and started eating. His pained stomach slowly subsided, the warm food doing a good job at chasing away any lingering sickness in the back of his throat. It was only when his plate was empty did he realize he hadn’t spoken a single word to you.

“Thank you for the food.” Taking a gulp of coffee, he looked over at your own plate and realized he was still hungry.

“There’s more in the kitchen.” Flicking your chin in that direction, you slowly sipped your own drink as Nanami left to grab more food.

“I’m sorry.” He said once his second plate was empty and he’d already gotten another cup of coffee.

“For what?”

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. By a lot.” Grimacing as he looked at the time, he could just imagine the way you were feeling. Had you been able to sleep comfortably last night knowing he was here? You probably locked the door to your bedroom just to be safe, telling all your friends that your neighbor was drunk and passed out on your couch.

“Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind. It’s just like a sleepover.” Finishing the food on your plate, you pushed it away and leaned your head against the back of the chair. It was quiet for a moment with Nanami idly watching you breathe, and then you spoke again. “Do you think the cake is ready?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Letting out a snort, you peeked at Nanami from the corner of your eye and laughed a bit more at his bewildered expression. “The cake we made yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah.” Letting out a rough exhale, Nanami shook his head to clear his thoughts. How could he forget the entire reason he’d come over in the first place? Did the alcohol really have that much of an affect on him?

“It looks set, what do you think?” Gingerly placing the cake tin on the table, you worried your lip as you looked over the cake for any imperfections. It looked perfect in the pan but who knew what would happen when you tried to remove it.

“Well don’t keep me waiting.” Reaching over the table to take the cake out himself, Nanami yelped when you smacked him away.

“No, don’t! What if it all oozes out onto the table?”

“We won’t know until we find out.” He wanted to reach out again but hesitated as he saw the twitch of your hand. “It won’t ooze all out, (Y/N), the cake is perfect.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your fingers curled around the tin; you wanted to believe him but knowing your luck it would end in disaster. But the longer you looked between him and the cake, the more you felt the pressure.

“I know because you made it. You’re a good baker, (Y/N).” Finishing the last sip of his coffee, Nanami pointed a finger at you. “Now either you take the cake out or I will.”

“Fine!” With trembling fingers you pushed the cake up from the bottom, painstakingly watching for any possible defects as it emerged.

“See, I told you it was perfect.” Nanami couldn’t help but feel smug at being right. The cake was picture perfect, not a lump or bump or empty spot in sight. The sigh of relief you let out was loud and completely deflated your chest.

“Thank god.” Setting the cake back in the tin, you stared at it from above, disbelief washing over you. “I can’t believe I really did it.” Laughing breathlessly, you straightened yourself up and glanced at your camera. “Guess I should start filming the reveal.”

“I think I’ll be going now.” Pushing himself up from his chair, Nanami gathered the dishes on the table and set them in the sink, ignoring the urge to stay even longer. He had to shower and change clothes, gather his composure and prepare himself for the work week ahead.

“It was nice having you over.” You mumbled, pushing in the chairs and slowly leading him to the front door. Neither of you really wanted this time together to end but it had to be done eventually. Gripping the doorknob, there was a slight delay before you opened the door.

“(Y/N)...” Drawing out your name, Nanami’s feet were stuck in place. Looking into your eyes, the longer he stared the less he wanted to step out into the hallway and back into reality. Digging his fingers into the doorframe, Nanami let his eyes begin to close softly, his vision turning slightly hazy as he aimed for your lips.

Time was moving too fast and too slow. With the sudden approach of Nanami, it was something you’d dreamed about for a long while, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. But the open setting of where you two were, the sudden slamming door down the hall and noises filtering in from the outside world withdrew you from the moment you’d wanted for so long.

“O-oh.” You hadn’t even realized you’d put your hand up to stop Nanami from coming closer until he made contact. Both of you looked down at your hand in confusion and you turned red for different reasons.

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll see you later.” Cutting you off, Nanami kept his head down to try and save face, save himself from you seeing how utterly mortified he was at getting rejected. Taking a generous step into the hall, he made a beeline back to his apartment.

Unable to say much beyond a dejected and nearly silent goodbye, you closed your door shortly after Nanami closed his. Both of you leaned against the respective frames, Nanami cursing himself for being so forward and making you uncomfortable, and you beating yourself up for stopping him in the first place.

It only took a day for you to finish the video and upload it, adding your traditional flair and special touches that made Nanami smile every time he saw them. Trying to ignore the way you two had parted, he focused intensely on the video and every time there was a cut or jump in he recounted exactly what had happened in that moment that made you cut the clip out, be it choking on some crust or dropping the entire mixing bowl on the floor.

“I’m just feeling burnt out from all this social media stuff, I might take a break from cooking for a little while.” That was the last thing Nanami wanted to hear towards the end of one of your monthly vlogs. He’d noticed a slight downtrend in your content output shortly after you posted the collab video and while he hadn’t spoken to you since that fateful night, he hadn’t gotten any hints that you were feeling this way.

“I’ll still be active here and there, I have some other things already filmed and ready to be uploaded and some sponsored stuff for my Instagram but I just…” The heavy sigh you let out as you tried to find the words to articulate your feelings made Nanami frown. Watching the rest of the video with a heavy heart, he took a glance at the time.

“Let me make something to cheer them up.” He mumbled to himself. Yes it was nearing his usual bedtime and he was typically very strict about adhering to the schedule, but you needed him; or at least Nanami hoped you needed him in some way to make you feel better.

Burrowing around in his cupboards, he grabbed random ingredients and placed them on the counter. When Nanami wanted to make something, especially a baked good, he always had a plan on what he wanted to make. But now he was going off the cuff, coming up with a recipe on the fly and hoping it worked. He also grabbed his filming equipment and set it up, hoping that even if the recipe didn’t turn out well you would still find enjoyment in his videos.

It took him nearly two hours to make a chocolate souffle and he didn’t regret a single second of it. His whole apartment was warm and smelled of chocolate, steam rising and blurring the lense of the camera as he presented them. Taking a deep breath that turned into a loud yawn, Nanani felt proud of himself for completing the recipe even if it was an ungodly hour.

He was nearly a zombie by the time he put everything away and uploaded the footage to his computer but he couldn’t find it in him to go to bed just yet. He wanted to edit and upload the video as soon as possible so that you could have something to watch to take your mind off the hard time you were having.

The rising sun was Nanami’s indicator that he’d been up all night without even ten minutes of sleep, but he could proudly say he pulled his first all nighter for Youtube and finished the video right as his alarm went off. Posting it immediately, Nanami rushed around to gather his things and head out the door before he missed his usual train.

Dragging his feet throughout the day, he collapsed on the couch the moment he stepped through the door. He tried to keep up with his work while also checking to see if you’d liked the video or maybe commented but there was nothing from you, not even a cheeky little post on Twitter or your Instagram stories.

Running a dejected hand through his hair, Nanami pulled himself up from the couch and to the kitchen. Thankfully he was meticulous about being clean so there was no mess from last night waiting for him, easing his mind at least a little bit. Making a quick dinner, he ate over the kitchen sink as he thought of what to do next.

It only took a few seconds for him to decide to make another video at that very moment. Shoving the rest of his food in his mouth, Nanami turned to his cupboards once again, quickly deciding to make cookies as his hand landed on a box of chocolate. Ignoring the souffle sitting patiently in the fridge, Nanami set to work making another dish for you with no plan in the foreseeable future of actually giving you any of them.

This habit repeated until the end of the work week when Nanami had quite literally passed out on his couch after the repeated all nighters. None of his videos seemed to have the impact he wanted them to. You didn’t like or comment, your social media posts were either retweets or sponsored content and you hadn’t posted a new video in a while. He could hear you in your apartment sometimes, talking to yourself or playing music and singing along, so he knew you hadn’t run away.

Waking up in a haze well after the sunset, Nanami felt at his wits end. He was doing everything he could to get you to cheer up without having to face you directly and it wasn’t working. He had a fridge full of desserts he was going to give you at some point and a horde of videos up on his channel you could watch but he needed to do something more.

(S/N): hey, I hope you feel better soon

As Nanami prepared for a shower, he wasn’t in his right mind to care about the fact that he’d just messaged you on Twitter instead of through text like he originally meant. Talking to you through his online persona wasn’t something he really wanted to do but he couldn’t turn back now.

Taking a long hot shower, Nanami forgot about the message he sent you, too wrapped up in finally getting to unwind. Doing his nighttime routine and burrowing into bed, he checked his phone one last time.

(Y/N): hearing my idol say this has made my day so much better, thank you so much T_T

“Your idol?” Nanami chuckled to himself, a light blush coming over his face as he sunk into his pillows.

(S/N): you’re welcome. If you ever want to chat about how you’re feeling or anything, I’m open to listen.

Pushing through sleep to send that final message, Nanami tossed his phone onto his bedside table and promptly went to sleep with a small smile on his face.

Generously oversleeping, Nanami woke up in an overheated, messy pile of blankets. Thankful for the weekend, he took his time coming to his senses and getting out of bed. His hand automatically drifted to his phone, tired mind eager to see if you had responded.

(Y/N): I would definitely love to chat!

(S/N): you called me your idol, I take it you’ve been watching my videos for a while?

Nanami had to ask, he needed to know just how much you liked his content. He didn’t have to wait long for a response, just as he poured his first cup of coffee his phone went off.

(Y/N): I’ve been watching your videos since you first started posting!! Your content is the number one reason I started my own channel

(S/N): I’m really touched, I’m glad I could be such a big inspiration for you

(Y/N): you really are! I admire you so much, you’re so serious about your craft

(Y/N): especially the fact that you put out a new video every day this week! I want to be as dedicated as you someday

While your statement bolstered his confidence greatly, it also put a heavy weight on Nanami’s shoulders. As you chatted more and more, Nanami felt the urge to go and make something else to keep the trend of uploading daily. There was a possibility that you were going to start posting again, you’d said so yourself, and Nanami wanted to make it a reality.

Ignoring the food in his fridge and on the counters that still needed to go to you or be eaten, Nanami pushed himself to film two videos that day. It was hard to make sure everything was perfect twice over but he managed and by the end of the day he was sitting at his computer eating flan and editing the videos.

Taking advantage of the weekend, Nanami pulled another all-nighter and filmed as many videos as he could. He ran himself completely ragged between filming, cooking and making sure to message you back consistently. Your conversation progressed naturally, flowing from one topic to another as if you were speaking face to face with each other. Nanami felt the urge to tell you it was him, that your idol was actually your neighbor, but the memory of your rejection still stung and he held off. You probably wouldn’t like him anymore if you learned the truth, so for now he was going to hold off.

By the time Monday rolled around and his alarm went off in the morning, Nanami had gotten a solid two hours of sleep and was nursing a growing headache. Somehow he managed to edit all the videos he filmed, putting them in a little queue to be uploaded everyday while he struggled through the work week.

Zoning in and out for the whole day, it was a miracle that he managed to come home in one piece. Nanami didn’t remember stepping into his office building let alone getting on the train home. Lacking the strength to even eat a proper meal, he stripped down to his underwear and slept on top of his blankets while running a high fever.

Waking up throughout the night in a cold sweat, Nanami knew when he woke up to the sound of his alarm that he couldn’t go to work. With a heavy head and runny nose, just looking in the mirror made him cringe.

“I look like shit.” His voice was gravelly and thick and he had to clear his throat several times after speaking. Leaving a quick message for his boss, Nanami splashed cold water on his face and went back to bed.

The next two days melted into each other and there were several instances where Nanami went into a coughing fit and was sure you could hear through the walls. With only enough strength to feed himself soup and cough medicine, Nanami was left to suffer alone. He heard notifications on his phone go off and every once in a while he would respond to something you sent but for the most part he was dead to the world.

A knock at the door roused him from a deep slumber in the middle of the day, sweating under a pile of blankets but too cold to take them off. He tried to ignore it at first, but the sound refused to stop and through his muddled brain Nanami was sure he could hear your voice.

“C-coming!” Grunting loudly, Nanami’s usually quiet footsteps thumped against the floor. Passing a mirror in the hall, he was glad he at least had an acceptable top and bottom on before he opened the door. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, Nanami sniffled loudly as he made eye contact with you and drifted downwards to the stack of mail in your hand.

“I uh, I have your mail.” Shuffling awkwardly on your feet, you didn’t know where to look. This was the first time you were seeing each other in two months and Nanami hated that he looked and felt absolutely awful. “Nanami? Are you okay?” The concern on your face was outweighing the awkwardness in the air.

“Not really.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders mindlessly. “I feel like shit.” His brazen statement made you snort. Taking the mail from your outstretched hand, he was about to thank you when you suddenly spoke.

“Have you eaten today?” Your eyes scanned his face and the bad dark circles under his eyes.

“No.” Answering truthfully, Nanami didn’t protest when you made the move to enter his apartment, not that he would have stopped you in the first place.

“Let me make you something, you need to eat properly if you want to get better!” Slapping his mail on the dining table, you pointed to the couch. “Go sit down and relax.” Turning on your heel as soon as you finished speaking, you dug around in the kitchen for something to cook. Dragging his feet, Nanami grabbed a small blanket from his bedroom before returning to the living room and taking residence on the couch like you asked.

“I haven’t- haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while.” Coughing loudly, Nanami ran a hand through his hair. He could hear you rummaging through the fridge and making little noises in the back of your throat.

“There sure is a lot of moldy desserts in here.” Looking over his shoulder and into the kitchen, Nanami chuckled watching you pull out some of the desserts he’d filmed and throw them away. They were unrecognizable from when he first made them, all of them having gone bad and disintegrating in their containers. It was a shame he didn’t get a chance to eat most of them, but he was so caught up in filming as much as possible that the thought of having all the leftover food to deal with didn’t cross his mind.

“Hey, how about we order takeout?” Running hot water over a dish that used to have chocolate cake in it, your lip was curled up in disgust.

“Takeout sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, Nanami had taken more medicine at your request and had a plate of steaming food in his hands, his first proper meal in a very long time. Putting on the TV for some light background noise, the two of you ate side by side.

“I’m glad I came to deliver your mail, I was worried about you, Nanami. I could hear you coughing at night.”

“Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizing for being sick? It’s not your fault! Just promise me you’ll get better soon, okay?” Giving his shoulder a brief squeeze, your fingers lingered on his body for a few seconds before sliding off. There was a comfortable lull in the conversation for a moment, the two of you eating quietly and fiddling on your phone. Nanami tried not to snoop, but he could see you silently watching a Youtube video on your phone.

“Do you want to watch that on the TV?” He asked quietly, sliding the remote towards you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you quickly put the video up for him to watch as well. Nanami wasn’t surprised that it was one of his videos you were watching, he still had many queued up to be posted, but he was surprised that he didn’t remember a single moment of filming said video.

“Look at the flowers he made on the bread!” Pointing to the screen, you lightly stamped your feet on the floor. “I’m so jealous, whenever I try to make focaccia bread like that it always turns out so ugly!” Nanami nodded along silently; once he was finished with the video for the bread he ate it all in one sitting and had a massive stomach ache.

Grabbing your phone, you tapped away in the comment section of the video, leaving an abundant amount of emojis along with your praising words. Going to Twitter, you tweeted about his video as well and as soon as you hit send Nanami got a notification for the post. His eyes darted to see if you had noticed and luckily you hadn’t, but soon there was a flurry of little dings on his phone.

“Woah Nanami, someone sure is messaging you a lot.” You chuckled and Nanami nearly grabbed his phone off the coffee table and threw it across the room; there was no way that you couldn’t see all the messages were from you. You even leaned forward a little bit to take a peek at who it was.

“Y-yeah, they are.” Fumbling to grab his phone before you could put the pieces together, Nanami had forgotten about the plate of food in his lap and it slid to the ground, immediately beginning to soak into the rug and stain it. Letting out a string of curses, Nanami forgot about his phone and rushed to clean up the spilled food.

Hearing his phone clatter to the ground, Nanami was torn between abandoning his cleaning efforts and stopping you from seeing his phone. He tried to stutter something out, a feeble attempt to draw your attention away as you clearly saw your screen name on his phone.

“What’s this?” You asked quietly, too quietly for Nanami’s comfort. He was still stammering out some excuses, but as you picked up the phone and read your name out loud, he knew it was over.

“I can explain.” His adrenaline was pumping and it was making him begin to sweat profusely. He could clearly tell there was a blush on his face much deeper than the one already there from his fever. Picking up the ruined plate of food, he tried to buy himself more time to try and explain what was happening.

Looking you over, all the excuses Nanami had were coming apart. Every word he could say was falling flat, not just because of his illness but because he found it less and less appealing to try and lie. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Nanami turned to face you.

“I...I’m (S/N).” Taking the phone from you, he showed you the Twitter messages between the two of you. As he went through the evidence, his social media pages and Youtube channel, he could see your face changing and he couldn’t read your expression. Worrying his lip, Nanami was afraid to ask what you thought of him now.

“This is insane.” You finally spoke after a few minutes, looking down at your own phone. “Who would have guessed my neighbor would turn out to be my biggest idol, too?” Slapping a hand over your face as you came to terms with the realization, you laughed a little. “Oh god, that means you saw my reaction video to your hands.”

“Yeah, I did.” Laughing along, Nanami let out a sigh of relief. You seemed to be okay with what he just told you and there was something else weighing on his mind. “You know, since I’m already confessing to secrets, there’s something else I need to tell you, (Y/N).”

“What is it?” Tilting your head to the side, your brows furrowed slightly in concern. Forcing himself to make eye contact despite the nerves he felt, Nanami let out one short breath before speaking.

“I like you, a lot.” He was surely running the highest fever he’d ever experienced now, there was no doubt about it. He was absolutely boiling, sweating buckets waiting for your reaction to this news.

“Really?” You whispered, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Really.” Based on your reaction, Nanami was steeling himself for a rejection. He should have known you wouldn’t feel the same way, he was a fool for getting his hopes up and reading into signals that weren’t there-

“I like you too.” Yet here you were, slowly weaving your fingers together and squeezing his hand. You refused to make eye contact anymore, too embarrassed from the onslaught of emotions going through you. Squeezing your hand back, Nanami ran his thumb over your skin.

“Well then, when I’m better I’d like to take you on a date.”

“As Nanami Kento or as (S/N)?” You teased, giggling to yourself as Nanami made a noise in the back of his throat.

“You already know the answer.” Finally able to relax in his seat again, Nanami let a big smile overtake his face when you cuddled into his side. “You shouldn’t be so close, you might get sick too.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Looping your arms together, you suddenly sat up. “Hey, Nanami.”

“Hm?” Turning to face you, Nanami’s eyes went wide as you kissed him. Your lips were soft, a pleasant feeling against his that he wanted to experience again and again. Kissing you back, it was a short interaction as he quickly parted to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“(Y/N), you shouldn’t kiss me, you’re going to get sick.” As much as he wanted to kiss you again, he didn’t want to be the reason you wound up in the same position as him.

“I’ll gladly take that risk.” Giving him a peck on the lips and one on the cheek, you resumed your position cuddled into him. “So all that rotting food in your fridge was from your videos?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Next time you want to upload a video everyday, call me, okay? I would gladly like to eat your cooking again.”

“Well you don’t have to wait for that, I’ll cook for you anytime you want.”

“Will you cook with me on my channel?” You looked at him hopefully.

“I’ll think about it.” He would have to make sure you didn’t accidentally expose his identity or your new budding relationship.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Giving him a big hug, you fixed the blanket over the two of you. Nanami wanted to protest and reaffirm that he would think about it, but with the way you were pressed into his side, he couldn’t find it in him.

“Alright, it’s a yes.”