#Not typical my style and I should not post on my phone

[forthelostones]

humans can lick too ─── ⋆ (kinktober)

☄. *. ⋆ fem!reader x dom!abby x perv!ellie ☄. *. ⋆

synopsis: halloween night just turned into another day for you, until you're visited by two desperate ladies.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); threesome, perv!ellie, dom!abby, fingering, nipple play (all receiving), and strap penetration & sucking (r!rec), jealousy, breaking & entering. pet names: baby & dove.

an: this will be my last (purely) smutty post for a while, i want to focus on a different style these next couple of days! this isnt my best & its a bit silly i think but i love this urban legend and i saw someone KB list this as an option. also thanks for 200 follows, much love. (i am taking any requests!)

wc: 2.5k

most halloweens you spend it doing a bar crawl or sitting on your porch, wine in hand, passing out treats. this night was different, you weren’t going out or even entertaining the idea of halloween - it became a normal day to you. earlier this afternoon you took your pup on a walk around the neighborhood and waved to your neighbors who were setting up for tonight. 

“well, city hall sent out an email saying it was imperative that we stay vigilant tonight, y’know.” your across the street neighbor mentioned.

“that’s every year isn’t it? i thought it was typically some teens who come and ruin the fun for all the little ones.” 

“i don’t know, tonight feels different, i'm turning in before 9 tonight just in case. especially with those incidents that happened last month.” 

you took what they said with a grain of salt. you were the youngest among your neighbors and they were always shaken up by the smallest occurrences. but tonight it felt like they may have been right, you couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud follow you on your walk. almost as if someone was watching you. every crunch on the ground your body stiffened, what if something bad is supposed to happen tonight? you and pup rush home in a paranoid frenzy, triple-checking if the front door is locked. 

as soon as you unleash your baby and remove your muddy shoes, you notice how warm the house has become.  you checked the thermostat and it wasn’t set, but you still couldn’t ignore the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. you walk over to the window above the kitchen sink and make a mental note that you should close it before sunset.

 after lounging lazily on the couch you hear the beginnings of laughter and soft screaming in the street for the holiday. you decided you’d do the bowl method tonight and place a note on the front porch, take candy, please! you scroll on your phone waiting for your dinner to heat up and you receive a phone call from your on-and-off against fling, abby.  you guys have a strictly fuck only relationship — she comes and bends you over, then leave. this didn’t bother you, for the most part.

"you coming out tonight?" she questions. 

"nope, staying in." 

your ears perk up at how quiet she’s speaking, but you didn’t care, you liked hearing her voice ring so sweet in your ears. 

"i would love to see you tonight, baby.”

you hear the shuffling of what your paranoid brain assumes to be footsteps coming from your bedroom. you walk towards the steps leading upstairs and get hit with the dial tone. 

“abs? hello?” 

you grip your fingers to form a fist, attempting not to breathe too loudly. just when your foot reaches the first step, the timer on your phone blares, startling you into a silly laugh. you can't believe how spooked you felt.

hey, what happened, why’d you hang up?

sorry, idk bad service, sorry. 

can i see you tonight?

you just throw your phone on the counter as you finish your food and wash your dishes out before going to bed. you reach down to pet your sleepy pup who is also ready for bed. you both travel to your bedroom, belly full and eyes heavy, ready for your head to hit the pillow. you strip off your clothes, throwing them on the floor, not even bothering to throw your laundry in the hamper. you look at abby’s message, wondering if you should reply or not, but you just let your mind drift off. 

in the middle of the night, your neighborhood stood silently as you tussled in bed, wrapping your legs in the sheets. you reach over the edge of your bed to feel your pup. their tongue tickles your fingertips and you smile into your pillow. your heart beats violently when you realize you didn’t close the window downstairs. in a blur you run down and close it, you peer out the window to see the leaves running away in the wind, it brings you some relief. 

you flop back in your bed and stroke your pup again to help you drift away. you feel their tongue caress your palm as you try and regulate your anxious mind. but then they didn’t stop and you became worried, you lean over the edge of your mattress, heart in your belly, and you see a woman in all black. she was lying under your bed, eyes closed, tongue wrapping around your fingertips. she had today's panties laced in between fingers pressed against her nose.

you tremble as you pull your hand away slowly and her eyes shoot open, her arms wrapped in a dark hoodie come from under the frame and she pulls herself up. you blink twice in attempts to see if this was one of those dreams when you’d open your mouth to scream and it was silent. 

“happy halloween,” she mutters from her mask and from initial examination, she didn’t have any weapons.

she brings her hand to the underside of the mask and removes it completely. the familiar face stunned you as you recognized it was your next-door neighbor, ellie. she came from the nicest house on the block, freshly repaved driveway and new cars adorning it, you couldn’t think of a reason why she would want to rob you. in this moment the memories of her flash before you as you two stand toe to toe. you had visited her house a few times for dinner with joel, who had introduced you to everyone in the neighborhood. but she would sit quietly and oftentimes just stare intensely at your face. 

“ellie, dont be rude.” joel would spit, and she would scurry off to her room. 

“ellie? what’s going on?”

“i watch you sometimes, dove. i knew you would be spending this wonderful day alone. i thought i should come and treat you.” 

“treat me how?” you feel a curiousness glaze over your anxious body. 

“i see her every time,” she begins to pace. “she comes over here, fucking you in my face.” 

“what?” 

your mind went blurry. 

“the blonde one.”

“abby?” 

she says walking towards you slowly. “do you remember that one time we almost fucked?” 

her hands come around your waist. “i do, ellie, i don't understand—”

“but then you said it would be weird because we live so close and if it ever went south…” 

her lips were close to your ear, you could hear her tongue snap against her teeth, and feel the heat brush gently against your cheek. her fingertips were playing a tracing game against your lower back. you recall the passionate kiss you both shared at the local bar, her desperate longing to just touch you in a tipsy frenzy. 

“i know, el.”

the florescent haze of headlights pulls into your driveway and interrupts the scene, blasting the sounds of call me little sunshine by ghost— it was abby. ellie’s face scrunched up as the familiar red pick-up shut cut off quickly. 

“what the fuck!” she groaned. 

“ellie, it’s okay, i can talk to her.” 

angrily, ellie snatched your wrist up in her hand and dragged you to the first floor. she shoved you towards the door where abby’s fist was pounding the glass. 

“get rid of her.” 

upon opening the door you see abby scouring the leftover candy in the bowl. she smiles with a faded look behind her eyes. “hi, baby.” 

you pretend to be normal, throw in a yawn, rub your eyes and she comes to pull you into her. her hands come around your ass as she’s one foot in the door already. her lips come to your neck, another leg in the door, and you shove her slyly. 

“what you don’t want to see me or something.” 

“abigail,” you say sternly. “not tonight.” 

she scuffs, “you didn’t get my text did you?” 

“i’ve been sleeping so no i didn’t get it.” 

“well i said, don’t reply if you want me to come see you.” she giggles. 

you grip her toned arms as she walks you backward into the corridor. ellie slams the door behind you both, which causes abby to step in front of you. 

“who is this?” she asks. 

you put your hand on her chest, “this is ellie, my neighbor, we were just about to—“ 

“what?” abby mutters, she gets so defensive that she doesn’t realize she how hard she forced you away. 

“wouldn't you like to know?” ellie smirks. 

in one swift motion, abby is gripping ellie by her hoodie and nearly lifting her off the ground. that’s when you step in between the both of them and make abby release her. 

“you can both have me, how about that?” 

𓆩⟡𓆪

all three of you sat on the edge of your bed. ellie’s hand slithered up towards your swollen cunt, while abby took your other leg and spread you open. ellie was more focused on getting as close to you as possible, desperate. she brought her lips to your cheek and gently pressed it against your feverish skin. she brings her red, bursting lips to yours and crashes into you. it was better than last time like she had been practicing. abby watched her, seeing where she could fit in, and began sucking on your neck. both your hands fall on their thighs, caressing them. 

“so how you wanna do this baby?” abby asks in a whisper. 

“ellie told me she’s been waiting for this. she watches us.” 

ellie looks slightly embarrassed at the fact, but abby smiles mischievously. 

“so you know how good she fucks me?” abby says. 

ellie nods silently, which leads you to then kiss her softly, bringing your tongue past her teeth into her mouth. she moaned obnoxiously at the taste of you. you bring your hands to her shoulders and lay her on her back while abby starts undressing herself. ellie watches you under the bright moon remove her black jeans to expose her nude, lace panties. she cups your face as you see how wet she had gotten throughout the night. 

you bring your hand up her drenched pussy and she trembles, swimming in her hoodie. “you look so cute.” 

she smiles nervously as you pull away her panties to view her swollen clit. abby sits at the head of the bed, completely undressed, skin tickled by the cool air, fingers brushing gently against her nipples, watching you both intently. you look up to her as you begin to bite ellie’s hot thighs. 

“come on, don't tease. fuck her.” abby spat. 

with no hesitation, you indulge in ellie’s sweet slick. she hoists herself up on her elbows to watch you suck on her clit. you knew she had been turned on all night so no foreplay was needed. abby had worked herself up by now rubbing her clit slowly, keeping her unwavering eye contact. ellie swallowed all her moans and flexed her belly at the pleasure your tongue was bringing her. 

she brought her hand up to your head and fucked your face, sloshing all her juices on the tip of your nose and chin. abby gets up and comes around your backside. she slaps your ass, which makes you choke a little. she spreads her lips and comes to the curvature of your ass and starts rubbing her clit against you. being used by the both of them at the same time made your pussy throb. 

“fuck, im so close dove.” ellie moans.

abby plants another smack on your ass, even harder this time. you give ellie two fingers, which instantly causes her to cum in your mouth, she pushed her cunt in your mouth so hard that when she removed it, you were breathless. 

“come here.” she says, dragging you over her body to kiss her. 

she drags her tongue all around your face, tasting herself. abby is now hovering over you both, not knowing if she should be angry or turned on. you crawl over to her and she takes a firm grasp of your neck and leans down to kiss you. she bites your bottom lip which makes you wince and you feel the weight of the bed shift under you as ellie brings her mouth to your ass. 

abby then stuffs your face into her core, lifting up one leg onto the bed so you can slip your tongue inside of her. 

“yes baby.” she melted. you liked when she got like that, submissive. 

“open up for me abs.” you muttered, which was a command you said to her often. while she pulled back her clit hood, ellie brought her mouth to your pussy, which made you moan into abby’s. ellie brought two fingers to your wet hole and started pounding you so hard your ass moved in waves. 

you remove your mouth away from abby’s body and start moaning ellie’s name while looking upwards to abby. she bit her lip out of anger and walked over to your closet to get your strap. she brought your lips up to the toy and commanded you to suck. you knew she hated hearing another woman’s name come from your lips. tears bulb in your eyes from feeling the length fill your mouth. 

once she pulls away, strings of spit coax your chin and abby shoves you on your back. ellie’s fingers popped out of you just when you were so close. abby teases your pussy with her tip and brings her hand to your throat. ellie’s eyebrows knit together, jealous at abby’s dominance. she slips her hand to your clit as abby enters you. 

“say it.” abby said. 

“ellie,” you mewl, leaning over to bring her lips to yours. 

that’s when abby grunts as she presses down on you, making your pussy swallow every inch. 

“spit in my mouth ellie, let me taste you.”

ellie doesn’t hesitate to perch her lips and allow her spit to spread over your tongue, the sight alone makes abby pound harder. she brings her hand to your cheeks and makes you watch her, pulling you away from ellie. you can’t help but pull her in deeper as she slaps into your bruised cunt. ellie wraps her lips sloppily around your nipple and bites it without any warning. you yelp at the mixture of pain both women are putting you in, but it feels so good. your pussy is aching to cum as abby purposely bruises your cervix. abby wraps your legs around her waist and lays her full body weight on top of you, her hips cracking against your thighs. 

“abby! please.” you yell. 

“that’s right scream for me, c’mon.” she says in your ear, sweat dripping onto your neck. 

you twitch under the presser and come so hard that your eyes roll in the back of your head. abby and ellie don’t stop until your legs shake and you try and find the power to push them both away. you twitch at feeling the strap exit your abused hole, feeling gapped, as ellie leaned in to plant a final kiss on your lips. abby exhales and lays beside you and you turn to kiss her too, in disbelief that you’re fucked out of your mind. 

↓ if you don't know this urban legend here's the original! ↓

tw: mentions of pet death, blood, breaking, and entering, & l*nching.

Once there was a nice old lady who had a lovely little dog. One day, the old lady heard on the radio that a crazy murderer had escaped from jail and that she should lock all her doors and windows. So she locked every door and window in the house except one tiny one to let some air in. No murderer would ever get in through there! So that night she went to bed as usual. She knew everything was okay because when she put down her hand the dog licked it. But later in the night, she heard a drip, drip, drip. She put her hand down and the dog licked it. She felt that everything was okay but the dripping was annoying her, so she went downstairs to check on the tap. But the tap wasn’t dripping. So she went to bed again. She woke up again later in the night and thought the dripping sound was coming from the shower. She went into the bathroom, and there was her dog, dead, hanging in the shower, and dripping blood. Written on the mirror in blood was: ‘Humans can lick too!

[the-cosmic-teapot]

To Be Loved By Nanami Kento

Nanami x reader

WC: 10,705

TW: Slight age gap (4 years), Canon-compliant, fluff, angst, canon-typical gore, big emotions, Nanami is such a gentleman, drinking, reader gets very drunk (Shoko), kinda steamy but no smut, marriage, family, Not a happy ending (ANGST!!!)

*Not proofread (my husband said his word limit is 5,000)

Summary: The story of how you and Nanami fall in love.

A/N: Hi pals, it's been a minute (like a couple months, oops)! This has been in the works for the majority of that time, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it until now. Let me know if you all like the longer fics or if I should break them up into parts instead. Also, I am looking for more proofreaders, if you are interested message me. As always, feedback is welcome!

P.S- The reader has a cursed technique that is using electrical energy and the gloves are what is used to conduct the energy. 

~Cosmic

June 2012

High school graduates are left with difficult decisions to make upon the end of their education. Differing from a typical student, graduating from Jujutsu High in Tokyo meant alternate career options; choosing to become a sorcerer, or leaving the world of Jujutsu for a mundane job. As you pack up your home of the past three years, you ponder this quandary as boxes of memories are put away one by one. On one hand, you were trained alongside some of the best sorcerers in generations, and, if we’re being honest, you’re one of them. Now on the other lives a normal life, and a normal job. One where you don’t face nearly as high a mortality rate. You could find love, have a normal family, and you could live in ignorance of your fellow sorcerers’ sacrifices.

Moving out of the dorms at Jujutsu High was bittersweet, you have a lot of memories with your friends, and even a sparse few with Gojo– as annoying as he can be. You found a nice apartment right outside of the business district in Tokyo and you were even up to get promoted to a grade one sorcerer. Things are looking up for you and your new independent life. 

Before you were able to fully get the rank of grade one sorcerer you needed to do a few missions with current grade one sorcerers, which is now what you were being sent to do.  Usually, you worked with Mei Mei because your personalities meshed well, unlike your fighting styles, but this time was different. Before you stood a tall, well-built man with blonde hair in a suit. The tan suit was a bit plain, but his bright blue button-down and patterned tie really stands out. Ijichi explained what grade-one curse this man and you needed to eradicate in an abandoned nursing home in Osaka. The man, Nanami, is to pick you up at the crack of dawn to catch a flight as opposed to driving through the night to get there. 

As you packed a small bag with a few necessities– the return flight was the following afternoon– you wondered why it took so long to meet Nanami. By the end of your second year, you had met most all of the grade one sorcerers from one gathering or another, but not Nanami. You had a few options now, you could look him up on social media or ask Gojo about the very muscular man. You decided on the former because Gojo would endlessly tease you for asking, plus you could stalk him online from the comfort of your bed. From your extensive research, you learned that there was not a trace of Nanami online other than a post from Gojo a year ago that tagged a deactivated account. Now you either have to ask Gojo or the even more embarrassing option of trying to make small talk with Nanami tomorrow. You were at a loss, was teasing from Gojo worth learning more about the undeniably attractive man? Nanami seems the type to not talk much, so small talk may not even tell you more about him. 

Your phone dings as the latest episode of a trashy show’s credits roll. You didn’t have the number saved, but you could quickly tell it was Nanami because of the overly formal language and punctuation of the message. He asked about where he should pick you up and if you wanted him to grab coffee before getting you. As you respond you also internally scream as this man keeps getting more attractive and you’ve met him once. Is it weird to be this attracted to a man you’ve just met? You suppose it doesn’t matter much, it was just a superficial attraction at best now. 

The following morning you wake up and get ready as usual, skincare, a little makeup, and finally getting dressed. You grab the overnight bag and your backpack for the trip there and head down to the lobby to wait for Nanami. After doing one final look over to make sure you weren't forgetting anything you finally leave and lock up your apartment. When you get to the lobby Nanami is already there holding his phone, probably about to call you.  

“Ah, good. You’re punctual, do you have all of your equipment ready to go?” You give a quick nod knowing you placed your sleek black gloves in the front pouch of your backpack. “Good, let’s go then,” Nanami said. He was in another suit, not a hair out of place. Without another word, he took the overnight bag and began to walk out to his car. 

He placed your stuff in the trunk of the modern black car and got the passenger side door for you. God, he truly is a gentleman. The interior of his car is clean and smells like a new car scent. You noticed a pastry on the middle console and two coffees in the cup holder after getting comfy for the quick trip to the airport. 

“I got you a strawberry Danish, as well as the coffee, I hope you like it,” Nanami says as he buckles in and starts the car. He adjusts his glasses, and checks before backing out of the 20-minute parking spot. 

“Actually, I’m allergic to strawberries… but thank you for the coffee and thinking of me!” You said with an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling bad that he wasted his money on you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Nanami spoke. “I’ll keep that in mind next time” You give him a small ‘hump’ as acknowledgement. 

The drive to the airport is quick, the bright lights of Tokyo pass by in a blur together in a rainbow of color. You wonder what this mission will entail, this was a grade-one curse, so Nanami could handle this alone if needed; theoretically, you should be able to do the same. Being this close to Nanami was strange, it felt almost intimate in the dark morning. You could smell the cologne he was wearing and the heat coming off of his body. He smelled amazing, woody and smokey, with notes of whisky. 

Soon enough you notice Nanami pulling into a parking garage and getting a ticket and finding a parking space. Getting out you go to grab your overnight bag but Nanami already has it in hand with his.

“I can get my bag if you want.” You said quickly. “You really don’t need to.” You say to the back of the tall man as he walks away. 

“It’s fine, it’s not heavy.” He said plainly, walking towards the walkway to the check-in desks. His steps are quick and driven by efficiency. You could tell he will be much more professional than Mei Mei, and way harder to get a read on. 

~~

As the plane lands you listen to the flight attendant about the typical unloading procedures, you worry about the mission and whether you will make a fool out of yourself in front of a grade-one sorcerer, especially one as attractive as Nanami. You remember this feeling when working with Mei Mei for the first time too. After you get your backpack from the floor you reach into the overhead compartment for your other bag but Nanami already has it in hand. 

“I told you I’ve got your bag, '' Nanami says, bending down to get his bag on the floor. You shivered at the thought of him being so close to you. 

“Okay, if you really don’t mind,” you say blushing slightly, moving to get off of the plane trailing after Nanami. 

When you leave the airport the sun is shining and there is a small breeze. It ruffles Nanami’s hair making him look even more divine than he already does. He hails a cab to go to the hotel so you can check in and go over what intel you have on the cursed spirit. The cab ride was uneventful at best, but your anxiety was through the roof. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat and the sweat covering your palms. 

You zone out sitting on one of the chairs with your and Nanami’s things while he checks into your rooms. Suddenly, he appears in front of you with a disgruntled look across his sharp, perfect features. He explains that the hotel screwed up and only has one room (and one bed) available at the moment, he runs a hand through his pristine hair and sighs.

“We can look for other hotels in the area if you are uncomfortable sharing a room, or I can sleep on the couch,” Nanami says in his usual tone. “The woman at the desk said that the former may be unlikely because there are a few conventions in town.” He runs a hand through his hair again, staring down at you through his glasses. 

“I don’t mind staying here, but I can take the couch.” You say it is not fair that he has already done so much for you. “I can sleep almost anywhere.” You say, which was a little lie, but it’s one night. Plus, you are considerably smaller than Nanami, he towers over you and he is broader than you because of the bulk of his muscles. 

“We can talk about sleeping arrangements when we get settled tonight.” He says after a moment of silence. Nanami walks away back to the desk and finishes checking in.

He comes back with two keys in hand and moves to get your bags. You look up at him and take the cards so he has his hands free for the bags. The walk to the room was silent, as was moving around to get settled into the nice room. There is a sort of living room then a small hallway with the bathroom on one side and a closet on the other and finally, the bedroom section was at the back. The bed is massive, most likely a king, and there is a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows facing the foot of the bed. You stand at the window taking in the view of the city and ponder how this mission will go. Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves you move back to the living room area with Nanami sitting on a comically small couch. 

“So, the nursing home isn’t far from here, we can walk there,” Nanami said, looking at the packet with all of the information gathered for this mission. He moved over and motioned for you to join him on the couch. As you sit next to him you realize how small the couch really is, it’s more of an oversized armchair. “The curse shouldn’t take too long to exercise, but there are bound to be more, lower grade curses.” He adjusts his glasses and hands the packet to you as he moves to get up. 

You look over the packet and see that the building has been abandoned for a few years after the owners were convicted of selling deceased residents organs without the families’ knowledge or approval. The building has recently been the site of the disappearance of teens, which has made more teens want to break in and do whatever teens do when they break into buildings. The local police have put locks on the doors and tape up to discourage more teens from entering, but this did little to dissuade them. This is why Nanami and you were called here, the 10 missing teens were concerning and the confirmed presence of a curse made this case a top priority for the higher-ups in Jujutsu society. 

~~ 

Nanami lowered the veil over the condemned building and you slipped your gloves on, as you both took in the large structure. It was at least three stories high and there was mention of a basement for laundry from the packet. The smell of mold and mildew hit you in the face as soon as Nanami opened the door. There was graffiti all over the place and vines and weeds sprouting up from the cracked concrete and broken windows.

You mention splitting up to make the search go quicker, Nanami told you to focus on looking for the missing kids while he looks for the grade one curse. Of course, this is not how the mission goes, you run into a horde of grade three and lower curses in the basement hallway. As you fight them off you begin to hear the sobs of a few girls. You make your way to a locked door where you very clearly hear crying, knocking on it, and saying you were here to help. When the door opens about five girls no older than fifteen are trembling and latching on to you for dear life. 

You introduce yourself to them and tell them that your partner and you will try your best to get them out safely. They all mention seeing some of the others they were with being dragged away but not killed in front of them. You shoot a text to Nanami about the girls you found and begin to lead the shaking, but not crying, girls out of the basement and to the outside of the building. Nanami joins you a few minutes after getting the girls out and mentions how you did well. 

Going back into the buildings after talking to the girls a bit more to gather more information about the groups they came from. After another hour of searching you find the bodies of three of the boys, all drained of blood leaned up against a wall on the ground floor. It was shocking to see that a curse did not mutilate the young boys. You move on to the next floor where you run into Nanami and he mentions finding two boys on the verge of death that he brought outside and tended to their wounds. 

Wandering around a bit more you finally come across the grade one curse, its cursed energy was intense. The spirit looks like its melting bodies together, one pile of flesh with multiple eyes and appendages. The largest of their eyes is brown and vertical in the center of the mass and quickly takes notice of Nanami and you and begins to attack, flailing arms and legs towards you and Nanami. You were first to strike the curse with a zap of your cursed technique directly to the center eye. Nanami, quick to follow, slashed a few limbs off with his blunt sword. Flowing through the motions of a fight, zaps, a few punches, and maybe a kick to the curse was the easy part. The more difficult part was knowing if you were doing enough to impress Nanami or at least not look like a complete idiot in front of him. With a final right hook into the curse imbued with your technique, the curse jolted back and collapsed into a disintegrating heap on the dirty floor. 

“Good, you did well,” Nanami says calmly while swiftly dispelling the blood from his blade in a singular smooth motion.

~~

The walk back to the hotel is significantly less awkward for you mostly because you were actually talking now, and not weird small talk. This was an actual conversation, about what you enjoy, what books you like, and so forth. You had a lot in common with the stoic man, you both enjoyed cooking and reading, much preferred over going out. You were beginning to toe the line between a schoolgirl crush based on superficial attraction into a full-blown crush, born from knowing his brain. There are a few outcomes, all but one of which will fragment your heart into millions of pieces. This is dangerous territory you are beginning to tread. 

Back at the hotel you shower and take time to get the sweat and blood off of you. The hot shower felt like heaven on your sore muscles and the steam began to fog the mirror. You wash your hair with your shampoo and conditioner while you think about the day. The thoughts quickly drift from the nursing home and the teenagers you saved to the dashing man sitting outside. He is hard to not fall for, he’s charming and his looks could rival that of a man sculpted by the gods. In addition to his stunning looks his personality seems to be a perfect fit for your own. The list of Nanami’s attributes just seems to grow with the amount of time you spend with him. 

Meanwhile, the blonde man sitting outside on the couch begins working on the report for the case. He begins recounting the day’s events, typing it all out in the correct format. All of the events from what was known to the final death count of the curse. Once again, Nanami’s life became mundane; getting sent on missions, exercising the cursed spirit, typing up a report, and repeating. When he got off of work he would make dinner, maybe try a new wine, most nights were the same for him. Being sent away from Tokyo was a nice change, but not much of one, now he would just have dinner out. However, now there was someone else with him. Someone who he wants to get to know, someone who he can see as a friend. 

He has thought of dating, but with his re-entrance into the world of Jujutsu that will be difficult. There is no way for him to have a “normal” life when he faces death every day. He cannot put someone he loves in a position to mourn him, he has been down this road before and it hurts. Honestly, part of the reason Nanami left after graduation was because he didn’t want to see more of his colleagues fall; moreover, he did not want to see his juniors fall even more so. Despite this, he found himself back in the world of Jujutsu; sitting here with you in the shower. 

When Nanami was told he would be paired with a semi-grade one sorcerer he thought the person would look more intimidating, not the small, cute form he met the day prior. He was pleasantly surprised this morning when you were right on time when he came to pick you up. In the car, he could smell your hair products– vanilla and jasmine– as well as notice how you anxiously fidget with your hands. You were efficient in the airport, which he admired very much, as opposed to Gojo, who would stroll in an hour before his flight with little care about missing it entirely. 

Nanami finishes the report and he hears you step out of the shower. He stands, stretches, and then heads for his bag to gather his clothes to get ready to shower. As he makes sure he has grabbed all of his necessities– underwear, pants, and a top– his phone dings. Sitting back on the bed with his stuff sitting neatly on the dresser he reads a text from Gojo asking about how you both were getting along. Nanami opted to send a short, nondescript text on how you performed today.  

When you finally leave the warm, steamy bathroom you see Nanami sitting on the bed tapping away at his phone, presumably texting. You move your stuff into your bag as your stomach growls very loudly. In your squatting position, you make eye contact with Nanami who now has his clothing in hand to shower and clean up for dinner. 

“I’m going to excuse myself, I’d suggest looking up where you want to eat,” Nanami says standing to his full height, making you feel smaller as he has to tilt his head further down as he does. 

“Okay, I can do that,” you say, zipping up your bag and grabbing socks and your bag with your wallet and other necessities to go out. 

As Nanami stepped into the still-warm and steamy bathroom he could smell your lotion and perfume. Everything smelled like you, even the other towels that are folded under the sink; it’s a smell that is just as intoxicating as the most expensive bottle of wine he’s sampled. He peeled his blue shirt off his body and began the shower, the hot water and steam fogging up the mirror again. Slipping out of his trousers and underwear he steps into the shower with a sigh. He could smell you even more in the shower, the hot steam lifting the remnants of your hair products to his nose directly. 

Nanami thought about the day and Gojo’s text. As with most things, Gojo most likely had another intention than the one Nanami initially interpreted. Nanami could not let himself wonder what it would be like to pursue you in any capacity other than friendship; not even for a moment. There is no denying you are attractive and he could tell that you shared a lot of his interests. He pushes these thoughts of what can never be out of his mind so he can finish his shower and get to dinner. 

~~

You go with a small sushi place with good reviews online and Nanami truly did not mind you picking. Initially, you had given him three options and he was indifferent to all of them. This was new to you because when you went with Gojo he would insist on going to his pick, given he always paid so you had no qualms. 

Walking alongside Nanami was strange, his muscular frame towered over yours and looked ten times more intimidating than you with just his resting face unobscured by the armless glasses he wore. The evening air was cooling down from the high temperatures of the day and a soft breeze flowing and it made Nanami’s hair flow slightly from its perfect position atop his head. He was in a light green sweater and light-wash jeans, which was such a change from his typical suit and tie. Casual suited him, as well as his scent without cologne, it was fresh and kind of minty. 

Getting to the restaurant you seat yourself at a nice table near the window. A server stops by to give you menus and welcome you to the establishment. As you look over the menu you fail to notice how Nanami looks at you. Your hair was pulled back with a few strands falling out around your face, framing it nicely. He thought about what a normal life would be like, how it would be to be in a relationship without the threat of death, and most of all what it would be like to be loved by someone. He once again found himself pushing these thoughts out of his mind. 

The night flows seamlessly from dinner to a little cafe for coffee and dessert. Conversation hardly stopped from when you sat down for dinner to now, in this cute little cafe with cat-themed decor adorning the walls. You were the last two in the cafe with the barista cleaning the counter and display case. This is a night you didn’t want to end, everything has been amazing, from conversation to food, and finally Nanami. The more time you spent with Nanami the more you wanted to spend with him. His presence is intoxicating. 

As you walk back to your hotel there is a light air between you both. The moon is bright and shines on the pair of you. He is close, very close, his arm is close to brushing with yours. To an unsuspecting eye, you looked like a beautiful young couple.

~~

Getting back to the hotel room faced you with the dilemma of the one bed. Nanami initially said he could sleep on the couch, but seeing how large he is compared to the overgrown armchair that had to be out of the question. You could take the couch, but something told you he would never let that happen.

Nanami once again let you take the bathroom first. You dug through your bag for your shorts and oversized tee shirt to get changed into. When you open the bathroom door you see Nanami’s toiletries on the counter opposite your own. What would Nanami be like to live with, being able to see your things with his? He seems like the type of person who has a solid routine and rarely deviates from that. After washing your face and undressing you fold your pants and top neatly to put on for the trip home. The silky shorts felt nice after your legs had been confined all day and the tee shirt fell over the hem of them perfectly. 

Nanami is waiting on the bed with his sleepwear folded neatly beside him. When he looks up at you his hair falls away from his face, most likely from the lack of product. He is so handsome in the dim lighting of the hotel room. You both begin to speak only to stop when you realize the other wants to say something. You smile slightly at the usually awkward situation. 

“You can go first,” Nanami said, standing to his full height. His hair shifting subtly with his change in position. 

“Oh, um, I’m all done in the bathroom,” you said, fidgeting with your clothing you still have in hand.

“Ah, I was going to say that you can take the bed because I really don’t mind,” He said in that deep voice. The voice that could make angels weep. 

“That couch is too small for you, if anything I can actually fit on it to sleep,” you say as you move to place your clothing on the dresser opposite the bed. “We could also share the bed if you really won’t let me take the couch,” you say without thinking of the implications of what this fully means. 

The air seems to stand still as you both process what you just said. Nanami is a man you just met no more than twenty-four hours prior, and you mentioned you could share a bed. If this were anyone else you would call them crazy for how risky that is with a strange man. Given, Nanami is not entirely strange, he seems to have some set of moral compass given how he is dead set on taking the couch. Your face is completely flushed red and Nanami is sporting a light pink blush as well. Why did you have to say that?

“I, um,” he paused, coughing a little, “I don’t mind taking the couch,” Nanami says, slightly blushing at the thought of sleeping next to you. The smell of your soap and lotion still stuck in his nose and mind, the sweet notes of vanilla and the floral ones of the jasmine would keep him up all night. Nanami also knew he would be too stressed trying to be respectful of your space that he would not sleep at all if he had to share a bed with you. “The couch will be okay for one night, I promise I will be okay there.” He finishes still sporting a faint blush across his sharp cheeks. 

You take a breath trying to calm down. “Are you sure?” You asked for a final time, still feeling guilty he will probably not get any sleep on the couch. 

“Yes, I would not have said so if I didn’t mean it,” Nanami says firmly, looking at you directly.

You both hold eye contact for a moment, the air thick between your bodies. It feels like you both want to say something, but words don’t come to either of you. His hazel eyes are intense as they still don’t leave your face. You feel your heart rate spike from being under his gaze. Your face could rival a prize-winning tomato for how red you are; Nanami is faring better, at least on the surface. All of his thoughts from earlier, all of the thoughts of a normal life were flooding back into his mind and he couldn’t shove them away fast enough. You are dangerous because there is something about you that makes Nanami feel like he could be with you in that way. 

The moment is ruined by the phone ringing in the other room, flashing with the extension from the front desk. Nanami takes another second, keeping your gaze before he answers. You are not paying attention to who is on the other end because you are trying your hardest to calm down. It feels like you’ve just run a mile without prep with how you need to catch your breath.

“That was the front desk,” Nanami cuts through your thoughts with his clear, stern voice. “Another group canceled their reservation, so a room on the second floor is now available,” he continues, clearing his throat. “I need to go to the front desk to sort everything out, but now we both have a bed,” he says walking to put his shoes on. 

Nanami is gone for twenty minutes, but it feels like an instant. You try to resume your nighttime routine while he is gone, but you keep getting distracted by your thoughts of that moment. Your flushed cheeks and his intense stare seared into your mind as if it were branded there with a hot iron. 

When Nanami comes back into your room he silently packs his things to move into his own room. You observe him, being as still as you can, scared to move too quickly as if he will disappear like a stray cat. Once all his things are packed he stands tall in front of your seated position on the bed. His posture is impeccable, as he tells you his room number and how the hotel comped one of the rooms because of the inconvenience. As you look up at him his hot gaze is already on you, as if he were studying for an exam. You quietly respond with a soft ‘okay’ and ‘Good night’.

~~

When you wake the next morning you feel calmer, more at ease than the prior night. You were so warm up last night that you took another shower just to try and calm your buzzing body and mind, not that it did much. Nanami was not much better, he was thankful to whatever deity granted him a room away from you. His thoughts were muddled and the clarity he was used to was gone. As he finally drifted to sleep he thought of how the atmosphere shifted in that instant before the phone call. 

Nanami let you know he would meet you in the lobby around 8 to catch your 11 o’clock flight. As you leave for the airport you do a swift look over of the room to make sure you didn’t forget anything. The room felt so much more empty sans Nanami, his large frame taking up physical space, but his aura taking up infinitely more. His presence is warm and calm, much unlike your own anxious one. 

The morning trip to the airport, as well as the airport itself, passes by in an instant. Now you sit at the gate waiting for your flight home; Nanami is on the hunt for coffee, as the hotel only had drip coffee. You are wasting time staring at the pages of a book you weren’t reading, too lost in thought. As a hand with a take-out coffee cup impedes your view and the smell of fresh pastry hits your nose. 

“I got peach this time,” Nanami says with a small smile, handing you a bag along with your coffee. He is back in his jeans and sweater from last night, much as you are in the same outfit. 

You take the coffee and bag and give thanks to the man now eating his own. The rest of the morning goes much like this, quiet and at ease. There is no tension between you, and you wonder if this is what it is like to date Nanami. Are all of his mornings quiet and tranquil? 

~~

Nanami drops you off at your apartment and, as the true gentleman he is, gets your stuff out to hand to you. As you walk away from him you can feel his warmth leave you. This trip was a whirlwind. Nanami is attractive and his personality is unmatched by anyone you’ve met, but he is a coworker now. Plus, he gave no indication that he is interested in you, outside of that moment. That moment could have been anything and he is hard to read so you chose to match his level of professionalism. At this point, the best you can do is friends, which is okay. 

~~

April 2014

So much has changed in the past two years after graduating high school. You’ve gotten to know yourself more, honed your fighting techniques, and become better friends with former classmates and coworkers. Soon after your mission with Nanami, you were promoted to a full-fledged grade one sorcerer, you gathered from Gojo that Nanami’s recommendation was glowing. 

Currently, you are sitting opposite Gojo in a cafe as you both talk about your plans for your upcoming birthday. The lanky man sitting across from you suggested going all out, after all, you are now an actual adult who can drink. Your speed was more like a small group of people and dinner, not the rager Gojo was already planning. Try as you might Gojo is truly an unstoppable force, and his party planning is quickly getting away from you. 

“Gojo, I am not having a massive party, my apartment is only large enough for a few people,” you sigh. “I’ll have dinner with a few friends, but nothing more,” you sternly say to the white-haired man. 

“But that’s so boring, we did that last year,” he whined as if your birthday was supposed to entertain him. 

Most of your afternoon went on like this because Gojo is, well, Gojo. On the bright side, he did pay for your coffee and treats. You have some paperwork to finish, but other than that you are free for the weekend. Gojo drops you off at your office muttering something about leaving it for Monday. 

As you quickly work through the sparse papers on your desk you hear a firm knock, clearly Nanami. Gojo would just burst in and Shoko’s knocks are short and quiet. In the nearly two years you’ve known Nanami, and in that time he has become one of your closest friends. He is the one you go to new museum exhibits with and the one you try new cafes with after said museum outings.

“Come in,” you say, not looking up from the last form you needed to fill out. You sigh for a moment as Nanami’s footsteps enter your office. 

“Hey, I saw you were still here and I wanted to see if you wanted to leave together,” Nanami says, looking down at you with a peacoat draped over his arm. “That is if you are almost done.”

“Oh, umm, yeah,” you say, still not looking at him. “I just need to sign off on this and submit it,” you say sighing as you stand to get your stuff. “Where were you wanting to go?” You ask, finally meeting his eyes.

“I was thinking of that new ramen place near yours,” He says holding his hand out to take your bag, “but I am up to suggestions.” 

“Great, I just need to run by Yaga’s office to turn these in,” you say smiling at him as you turn off the lights and close your door. 

The walk to Yaga’s office is the same as it always is, hallways blurring together. You are looking through the papers making sure everything is in order and Nanami is lost in his own mind. In the time Nanami has known you, you’ve nestled yourself into his life seamlessly. After that first mission in Osaka, the pair of you worked on a few more local missions until you were a full-fledged grade-one sorcerer. Even after that, you made a point to spend time with Nanami, to be his friend. That is something he admires about you, you put so much effort into everything you do; sometimes to your own detriment.

You have an aura to you that draws him in, something that makes Nanami want to know everything about you; not just the superficial things anyone can figure out, but the more intimate things like what your nighttime routine is and how you look when you first wake up. These things are small, but he wants them; he wants you in your entirety, mind, body, and soul. 

Nanami came to these conclusions one night after drinking with you, Gojo, and Shoko. He initially turned down Gojo, but when you asked he couldn’t find it in him to decline when he looked into your bright, beautiful eyes. While going out is not his preferred way to spend a night, especially on a Thursday, he thought your presence made it bearable. Especially when you would join in on teasing Gojo with Shoko after a few drinks. After that night Nanami vowed to keep his feelings to himself because you didn’t deserve him, he is a broken man who cannot promise you tomorrow. In his mind, being your friend was better than not being in your life at all. 

~~

You were finally able to talk Gojo out of a big party at a club in exchange for dinner at your favorite place and a few drinks afterward. Music is loudly blaring from your phone as you get ready in the bathroom, hot water running over your figure. You think of what to wear, taking into consideration the temperature and the cute-to-comfy ratio of your outfit. When you step out of the shower, you go through your normal routine, taking more time on makeup and hair. Now you stand in front of your closet wondering what to wear. You could go with jeans and a sweater, but that’s what you wear when you normally go out; this is a special night, so maybe a little discomfort is okay. You pick out a short, light pink dress with poofy mesh sleeves and a flowy skirt. You also opt to put stockings with a criss-cross pattern on them under your dress. As you situate the stockings at the top of your thighs your phone dings and lights up. 

‘Hey, I was thinking we could head over to the restaurant together so you don’t have to walk alone’ read the text from Nanami. It is not unusual for Nanami to pick you up to go somewhere, but it doesn’t happen as much as you’d like. 

After that first mission with Nanami, you were thankful he seemed to want to be friends too, but never anything more. In the past two years, you’ve only grown to like the tall blonde more. He makes sure that you don’t overwork yourself, but rather that you get paid for the work you complete. When he can he also delivers coffee and a pastry. With every coffee delivery, you felt yourself fall a few more meters, you have yet to hit the ground. 

You shoot a short ‘yes’ and go about finishing your look for the night. Thinking of Nanami makes you heat up, more than usual that is. There are a few reasons for this, but the main reason being you’ll look like you’re going on a date walking to the restaurant together. That thought alone made you squeal like a schoolgirl. 

A curt knock rings through your apartment, signaling Nanami’s arrival, and pulling you out of your head. As you answer your door you notice Nanami has a gift bag in hand, presumably for you. You signal for him to come in and greet him, mentioning something about not being quite ready yet. Digging through your jewelry box for a necklace you ramble about your day to Nanami, who responds with grunts and nods, not that you could see him as he is in the living room. 

~~ 

Nanami fills you in on how his day has been as you walk side-by-side to the restaurant. He is self-conscious, something he has not been since high school, because you look amazing, and he just has a dark grey sweater on with nice pants. The dress is just short enough to see the upper parts of your thighs, but not so short that it is immodest. Nanami tries to not stare too much, but he really can’t given how well the stockings hug your things. The plush fat of them bludged slightly from the restriction from the stockings. This outfit is driving him insane– you are driving him insane. Just for a moment, Nanami allows him to wonder what it would be like to have you look this good for him, and him alone. 

As you reach the restaurant you stop Nanami just shy of the entry, so as to not obscure the entry. He gives you a questioning look, and you just stare back at him with wide eyes. Words fail to escape your mouth as you look into his dreamy eyes. You try to start a sentence multiple times, but nothing ever reaches your mouth. Of course, he looks amazing, the sweater with the collar from a button down underneath. As you finally find the words to say Gojo begins yelling from down the block. You break away from the moment with Nanami and turn just in time for Gojo to pull you into a hug. Shoko is not far behind the lanky man as she holds two gifts, one hers and the other probably Gojo’s. 

The host seats you all at a booth in the corner of the restaurant, and lights dim for the atmosphere. You slide into the space next to the wall and Nanami follows suit, sitting close to you at the smallish table. Gojo is directly across from you and Shoko is across from Nanami. Conversation flows, as do some drinks with dinner, and the food comes and goes. You feel a light buzz from the two drinks– one from Gojo and one from Shoko– as you prepare to pay your bill. The waiter comes back to divide up the bill and you all hand in your cards and discuss where to go next, as the drink portion is to appease Gojo. 

The bar Gojo chooses has soft music playing and comfy sitting areas, the best for conversation. Nanami offers to get you a vodka cranberry, your drink of choice, while you find somewhere to sit. Shoko, being the woman she is, kept getting round after round of drinks. You are certain that you are mostly alcohol now, you cannot see straight and you didn’t want to try walking, in fear that your choice of platform boots will make you fall over. 

Nanami can tell you are out of it, your eyes are not focused on anything in particular, and you are no longer talking in more than one-word answers. He closed out at the bar and told Gojo and Shoko he was taking you home, so as to not cause you more harm in the morning. 

As you focus on Shoko complaining about some of the new changes to her duties from the higher ups you feel Nanami’s warm hand on your back. He looks down at you with concern, not that you can particularly tell right now. His deep voice is calming and rich, like the most decadent chocolate as he bids Gojo and Shoko goodbye. He makes sure you have everything, including the new mug from Gojo and the two wine glasses from Shoko.

When you step outside with Nanami still holding on to you the cool April air hits your face, causing you to shiver slightly. Nanami opts to hail a cab, mostly because he is not sure how far you can walk. As one pulls to the side Nanami puts you in the back and walks around to the other side for himself. You cling to him as soon as he sits, and you are not wanting to let go. He tells the driver your address and just lets you cling to him as if he is your lifeline. 

This is nice, your hair smells just how it did when he first met you. Nanami once again lets himself think of what it would be like to have this all the time; you pressed against his body while you go to a shared home. He thinks back to what you were trying to say before dinner, before Gojo ruined it– typical. 

The ride to your building is quick. Nanami pays and tips the driver and practically hoists you to stand. He can tell you are close to crashing, your body heavy, and your movements lethargic. At this point, he thinks about carrying you, as it may be easier than standing at an awkward angle holding you up, but decides against it so as to not cross any boundaries.

When he opens your door you struggle to take off your shoes and leave them in a pile on the floor, a problem for later you. You drunkenly stumble through your apartment with Nanami in tow as you try to undress. The zipper on the back of your dress seems infinitely further than when you zipped yourself into the dress. You break down and ask Nanami, who is standing outside as you change, to help you because you just want to go to bed. As he opens the door he sees you sitting on your bed swaying slightly. He unzips your dress and turns around to give you more privacy, but your perky butt and back are displayed in the full-length mirror he is now facing. You stand still for a minute, in your stockings and lacy pink panties with a matching bra before stumbling into the bathroom. A red-hot blush expands across Nanami’s face as he tries to not stare like a pervert, but there is something about how your ass looks in the lace panties that makes him insane. 

Nanami leaves to sit on the couch, so as to not invade your space, trying to calm down from seeing you in such a state of undress, after all, he is just a man. For a third time tonight, he finds his mind wondering what it would be like to see you like this for him. What would it be like to undress you and feel how your soft body would squirm under his touch? What noises could he pull from you? How would you sound moaning his name? He shakes his thoughts away and busies himself with getting aspirin and water for you in hopes of getting rid of his little (massive) problem. 

As you reemerge from the bathroom you have no more makeup on and are now in an oversized sweatshirt that reaches the tops of your thighs. You move to lie down and get comfy as Nanami has water and some aspirin in hand for you in the doorway. He gives you the pills first, then the water and you mutter a thanks while yawning. Making sure you don’t need anything more from him, Nanami heads for the door when he hears you, in such a soft voice, ask him to stay. In his tipsy state, he almost misses it, but not quite. 

“What was that?” He asks, making sure his ears are in working order. His eyes intently search yours as you answer.

“Can you please stay with me?” you ask again, this time a little louder. “You don’t ha–” He cuts you off with a very quick acceptance and begins to make his way to the other side of your bed. 

~~ 

The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and unbelievably dry throat. You reach for the water on your nightstand and gulp what’s left down in a hurry. Taking a breath, you take in your room, and the large man still asleep next to you. He shed his sweater and button down and is now in a form-fitting white undershirt. Sitting up next to this god among men you take a moment or two to admire Nanami’s form; his massive arms holding one of the cutesy stuffed animals you keep on your bed. Oh to be that stuffed cat. 

You get up to get more water and scrounge something to eat from your sparse pantry as your memories trickle back. Your face heats up when you set the tea kettle on the stove as you remember practically begging poor Nanami to stay with you. Given, he wouldn’t have done something unless he wanted to, that much you knew. Does this mean he sees you in a romantic way? Or was this more of him wanting to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit?

Nanami wakes up and quickly realizes he is not in his home, but rather your home. He also realizes you are not in bed with him, but your spot is still lukewarm. The smell of toast and tea wafts into the room as he sits up in bed. As he looks around he sees the stuffed animals strewn about the room, most likely his doing as he slept, as well as the cute white cat he currently holds. You consume his thoughts, millions of them racing in. Why did you ask him to stay? Why did he stay? Could this mean you wanted him too? 

Sitting at your small table you have tea and toast, with a cup and plate on the counter waiting for Nanami. You have to talk about last night, but more so how you feel about the typically stoic man. There is no going back to before he slept in your bed, his warm body feeling like the missing puzzle piece in your life. He looked so peaceful sleeping with the sun peeking through the curtains of your room and landing on his sharp features. 

Nanami walks into your main living space in his light blue boxers, looking like a Calvin Klein ad. You offer the tea and toast on the counter to the god of a man standing in your home. He takes the seat opposite yours and just looks at you. Your hair is pulled back with a clip with a few pieces near the front falling out, framing you in such a beautiful way. The sun softly shining into your home makes you look ethereal, your beauty outshining Aphrodite. 

“I’m sorry,” you say as he takes a sip of the tea. “For last night that is,” you finish avoiding his eyes. You take a deep breath before continuing, “You should know, I like you,” another breath, “in a more than friendly way,” you say, feeling the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes. The weight of your words and emotions sit on you like a stone as you await Nanami’s rejection. 

“Can you at least look at me when you tell me you love me?” Nanami asks with a small smirk on his pink lips. His eyes meet yours, which are full of sorrow. 

“What,” you respond, taken by surprise at his comment. Your brow furrows as you ponder what he could mean. Your sorrow is replaced by confusion. 

“For such a smart woman you’re quite dense, aren’t you?” He said still teasing you. “I want your mornings, afternoons, and evenings.” Nanami stands and moves to stand in front of you, his large body looming over you. “I want to be the man you look for in a crowded room, the one you get all dressed up for. I want you– all of you.” 

You stare up at him, confused at his sudden burst of affection. His usual stoic demeanor was gone, now replaced by a soft expression on his sharp features. He holds your eyes, waiting for your response.

“Nan-” you stop yourself, now would be the time to use his first name, “Kento, I do look for you in every crowded room, you’re the one I want to give all of my time to.” You stand, still dwarfed by Kento’s massive frame. 

Neither of you says anything for a moment, rather just processing what just happened. He leans closer to you and you meet him halfway, having to stand on your toes. The kiss is tentative as if you are both scared that this is some form of a cruel dream. Once your lips touch his everything feels at peace, you have no thoughts other than Kento and his soft lips on yours. As you pull away from the short, but sweet, kiss you both cannot stop the smiles that threaten to break your faces. 

He goes in for another kiss, this time with more assurance and passion. His lips are hot and needy as his hands begin to roam your body. Kento’s kisses get more needy and his hands pull at you more and more. Large hands grab at your plush ass as he lifts you to his hips, instinctively, you wrap your legs around his muscular waist. You continue to make out while Kento carefully moves the both of you to your bedroom. 

~~

The next few weeks are filled with getting to know Kento in a deeper, more romantic way. As time passes with him you fall even deeper in love, as does he; the only difference now is that you are not scared to hit the ground because he’s there to catch you. You get to see him, who he is at his core, what makes him tick and it is a true honor. There are so many things that are uncertain in your life, but you know Kento will be a constant. 

Kento does not believe in soulmates, there is no reason this cruel world would give people that luxury, but you are the closest thing to his. He never thought he would be allowed to have you in the ways he wanted you, but here you are in his arms. The Morning sun shines through his blinds causing you to snuggle closer to his chest. Kento debates getting up and making you breakfast, but decides against it in favor of holding your naked form against his own, just for a little longer.

~~

August 2016

Kento finishes tying his bow tie and does a final look in the bathroom mirror before turning off the lights and leaving to find you. You are in the bedroom sitting at your vanity in a pretty white dress, something shorter because of the less-than-traditional wedding celebration. The dress has short sleeves with lace detailing at the ends that match the lace on the rest of the dress. You look up at Kento as you finish putting your makeup on and smile at your soon-to-be husband. 

“The car is almost here darling,” Kento tells you, offering you a hand, a smile matching yours. “You look stunning,” He says, leaning down for a quick kiss. 

“So do you my dear,” you say drinking him in, his white form-fitting shirt and light gray suit make you drool at the thought of taking it off of him later tonight. “Ready?” 

“More than anything else,” Kento says, the smile still not leaving his perfect features. 

~~

The ceremony is short and intimate, just what you and Kento wanted. Nothing too extravagant, but still filled with love. After the ceremony, you and Kento go to a late lunch at your favorite restaurant and just enjoy the day as a married couple. You both sit in a cute little cafe with coffee and dessert. Every once and a while there is the soft clink on Kento’s mug from his ring, the one that matches yours. With each clink, your stomach does flips because you actually got to marry this man. 

The rest of the evening is something out of an old film, the couple strolls through the city streets, lit by the moonlight and shop lights. Kento’s hand in yours, you talk about something while he looks like a lovesick puppy. He has an uncharacteristic soft smile across his features because of you. The walk back to your shared apartment is serene and feels right. Nights like this are what you live for, they are simple, but it’s the small moments that make you fall even more in love with Kento. The way he makes sure you have at least two meals a day that are nutritious or the way he makes you feel like you are the most important person in the world– because to him you are.

~~

November 2017

Nights with Kento are quiet and beautiful. On this particular night you lie on his bare chest post-coitus as he strokes your hair gently. You fidget with his wedding band that matches yours, just content to be with him at this moment. 

“Hey” Kento says in a soft voice to grab your attention, “how would you feel about having kids?” He asks, looking down at you. “Mine specifically” he clarifies. 

“I would love to have your kids, but do you really think we’re ready?” you ask not knowing if you were ready for such a big change to your life. “I mean, we would need to get a bigger place and work seems to never stop.” You ramble on for a little about your anxieties of parenthood and Kento just looks at you with admiration. 

“We have enough to buy a townhouse or condo if that is the biggest concern,” Kento says, softly petting your hair.

~~

October 30th  2018

You are abruptly awoken by a loud cry from down the hall of your pristine townhouse. The noise is not foreign to you, as it once was, but more of a routine, a signal to get up and prepare to feed or change the small girl, Yukie, lying in her crib. Kento usually handles the random 3 AM cries, but he has been so worn out recently because he has been training another student, as per Gojo’s request. As you get out of the warm embrace of your husband he grunts and moves to his stomach. 

Just a few doors from your own is your daughter’s, who is in the cutest pink and green flower onesie. You pull her from her crib and get situated to feed her in the comfy chair in the corner of the obscenely pink room— Kento’s doing. The monotony of feeding pulls you into your own thoughts now that your bundle of sunshine has quieted down.

Having a kid with Kento has made you want more because of the attentive husband he was during your pregnancy and how amazing of a father he is. He never complains about getting up in the middle of the night or having to do his errands with her strapped to his chest (seeing him in the baby bjorn for the first time almost made you jump him in the middle of the kitchen). Kento is truly the ideal man to have your children with because of his evercalm disposition, which you saw crack when he held your daughter for the first time in the harsh lighting in the hospital room. 

~~

In the morning you feel light and airy, as if you are floating a few centimeters off the ground as you are making eggs and toast. Kento and your daughter having tummy time in the living room; her bright laugh and babbles are followed by Kento’s soft chuckles and coos encouraging her. Mornings like this are the ones you live for, even if you are exhausted and have bags the size of checked luggage under your eyes. The quiet mundane life is all you need to feel complete, to feel at peace with yourself and the world. 

Kento’s voice breaks through your thoughts, “Love, I have to work tomorrow night.” He says strapping your daughter into her high chair. “I know you had some cute costumes and plans for Yukie’s first Halloween, but this is unavoidable.” Disappointment evident in his voice as he runs his hand through his hair. 

“Is everything okay?...” You trail off wondering what is so important that they would call Kento in when he’s supposed to work less because of his daughter. “I mean, I know there are more curses active around holidays, but do you really have to go in?” 

“Yaga said almost everyone active is needed, not much else though.” He says looking at you while Yukie plays with his fingers. You can’t help but feel anxiety creep up in the back of your mind. 

Thoughts are coming in from all over the place, what’s going on that Kento needs to work? Of course Kento is one of the best sorcerers, but is this a mission he needs to be on? What is going on? 

~~

The following evening you make a quick dinner so Kento has something on his stomach for what will probably be a long night ahead of him. As the rice noodles are finishing Kento walks into the room with his suit and tie on. He looks as good as the day you met him all those years ago. Kento gets two plates down with utensils and glasses for himself and you, as well as mashed peas and carrots for Yukie. 

This domestic bliss will return after this mission, at least until the next year, when Kento needs to go back full time. Yukie is giggling as Kento is tickling her on the floor before getting her into her chair for dinner. He is her favorite person in the entire world, she will always reach for him when he comes home, drop everything the second he comes into her line of sight.

As you set the plates down on the small dining room table Kento comes with Yukie’s bib and food in hand. The rest of dinner is filled with babbles from Yukie and light conversation as you and Kento dance around the elephant in the room. Kento brings up wanting to take the last two weeks in December off to finally travel to Malaysia; which you fully agree with because you could both use a change in scenery. 

Kento starts to gather his equipment and leave after Yukie is put down for bed. The house is silent, and you are stuck in your head again. It is highly improbable that Kento will get seriously injured or killed, but that is always a fear you have given your shared line of work. 

“I should be home by tomorrow morning, dear.” Kento says, bringing you back to Earth in his calming smooth voice. He pulls you into his chest as he holds you close for a little while, planting kisses to the top of your head occasionally. 

“Just come home to me Nanami Kento.” you say looking up at him with a small smile playing on the corners of your mouth. 

“I love you.” He says before letting you go. 

~~

You fill the rest of your night trying to not stress over the mission Kento is on, but most of your attempts of trying to relax are futile. The one thing you find does help is propping up with your laptop in Yukies room with a small lamp giving off a soft yellow light and looking up Malaysia hotels and tickets to surprise Kento with when he gets home. 

As the hour shifts to around 3 in the morning you feed Yukie one more time before heading to bed. Knowing Kento he will be upset if you screwed up your sleep schedule just for him. You quickly shower and change into a silk pajama set before lying down and falling into a dreamless slumber quickly. 

You wake up around 9 to the sound of your doorbell ringing. Kento is still not home, but maybe he is getting ahead on his paperwork so he can spend the rest of his time with you and Yukie today. The house is cold, as you slip a robe on to answer the door. When you get down the bell rings again as you open the door to Ijichi, who is already fully bowed down. 

“I’m very sorry to inform you…”

[odd-im-o]

How to Create an Imaginary

*this guide has been created based on my own experiences and what has worked for me. it is purely a recommendation and should by no means be treated as the final say on imagimancy

*the items within this post have no set order. do whichever points you want, however you want, whenever you want and only IF you want!

*enjoy :D

There's many reasons someone may want to summon an imaginary. Maybe you had one as a child and miss them. Maybe you never quite figured out how to make one in the first place. Maybe the idea of having sentient thoughtforms and willos is a big commitment you're not ready to take yet.

Whatever the reason, I wanted to compile a guide of sorts outlining how to create your own!

What is an Imaginary?

An imaginary is a non- or partially-sentient being drawn from someone's imagination. This could be a fictional character, pet, companion, or anything else! These friends are typically constructed in ones mind and projected out into the real world. It's like a para outside of the paracosm, or an oc specifically designed to interact with you, the creator.

This guide will outline tips to create and maintain your own imaginary.

Choose a Type

Before you can summon an imaginary, you need to know what role your imaginary will play. Are they meant to be a pet, friend, caregiver, lover, or something else entirely? Are they human? Mythical? Something else? Will they be brain-made? Or maybe they're drawn from pre-existing media?

The limits are your own imagination. Choose what fits your own interests and needs.

Draw Inspiration

Your new imaginary may be born from your mind, but it's helpful to draw inspiration from other places. Maybe there's a character you want them to resemble, or a personality you find fitting with your own. Maybe you have an idea for an aesthetic or style your imaginary will take on.

Gather those inspirations and use them moving forward! Maybe make a folder in your phone filled with interesting images, write down what tickles your fancy, or make an collage online. Whatever the method, have fun with this step! It will help flesh out your imaginary.

Visualization

Once you've gathered ideas for your imaginary, it's time to start visualizing. This is, personally, the most difficult part. Your companion, afterall, doesn't actually exist quite yet. It's through your own mind that they will manifest, and that takes a bit of time and effort on your part.

One method of visualization is art. Draw what you want your imaginary to look like, or use picrews or other online-makers to create them. Make them a few times over, see what fits and what feels right, and eventually you should settle on something that's correct.

Another method is picturing. Turn on some music or ASMR you want to associate with your imaginary, close your eyes, and see what appears. Write down anything notable or simply observe. See what comes to mind.

Regardless of your method, at the end you should be able to picture the key traits of your imaginary. Don't worry if these traits change later on. Your imaginary is a being, afterall, and is subject to change. Just settle on what feels right and give your imaginary room to grow as they get settled.

Characterization

As you start to visualize your imaginary, their personality should start to shine through as well.

Observe your imaginary and see what personality traits begin to arise. How do they act? How do they speak? How do they interact with you? Interact with others?

Alternatively, make these choices for yourself! Do you want your imaginary to be friendly? Aggressive? Assertive? Are they an ally to you or a needed opposition?

Also take the time to flesh out your relationship with your imaginary. What role do they play in your life? How do they add to or subtract from your world? How do you two interact?

Once again, these answers may change as your imaginary grows, but begin to take notes of some key factors you notice or want within your imaginary.

Interaction

This is the fun one. While it is completely valid to not interact with your imaginaries, I personally find that interaction is what sets an imaginary apart from OCs or fictional character daydreaming.

That being said, your imaginaries aren't sentient and are somewhat controlled by you. Here's some tips for interacting with your imaginaries and helping to build a relationship between the two of you.

Schedule Interaction Time

I, personally, spend time with my imaginary every morning while I do my daily routine. It provides set-aside time for us to bond and helps to make sure I don't forget he exists.

Choosing a time to interact with your imaginary can really help to build a relationship and make sure they consistently appear. Maybe you talk with your imaginary during lunchbreaks everyday, or Saturday afternoons are always set aside for the two of you. Try not to let this get in the way of other relationships, though. Those are important. It's simply helpful to know that, say, while you do the dishes everyday, a friend will be sitting there to talk with you.

Choose Points in Space

When interacting with your imaginary, try choosing points in the world around you where they appear. Maybe you have a dragon sitting on your shoulder, or a giant crouched outside your window, or a fairy flying just ahead of you. Even if you can't literally see your companion, imagine where they would be while you interact.

Chat with your Imaginary

Talking with your imaginary is a great form of interaction. I personally will talk out loud and give my imaginary time to respond. Another method is to have a mental conversation between the two of you.

At the start, it may feel a little awkward and forced. You may be choosing what your imaginary says and how they respond. But keep with it. Over time the communication should begin to feel more natural.

Forming Habits

Once the hardest parts are done, your only other job is to form habits. Choose moments when you want your imaginary to appear and regularly summon them then. Get used to interacting with them consistently. Observe the way they change and grow as the two of you get to know each other.

Ultimately, if your imaginary doesn't stick around, don't fret! It's totally okay for them to fade. But with a bit of time and effort, you can have an imaginary that sticks with you for a long time :)

[adnauseum11]

Short Takeoff, Vertical Landing (John Price x Reader)

John gives you a gift and you explore your understanding of the man.

3.1k words (longer than I normally like, my bad)

CW: swearing, sex (MDNI - 18+ only)

This is shameless slice of life smut - you've been warned!

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U series, the Masterlist is pinned to my blog.

Feedback welcome!

Ao3

It takes a moment for you to compute what John’s words really mean, most of your higher brain function temporarily offline. Your body is still humming with the remnants of pleasure, making sitting up a languid affair. John’s pulling something out of his bedside drawer that is very much not shaped like a condom, to your partial dismay.

You crawl across the bed on slightly unsteady limbs and push your hair back, its disheveled state threatening to obscure your view of the handsome man in front of you. He’s holding out a flat, long box to you and you know instantly it’s jewelry. You hesitate, your experience with previous boyfriends and jewelry not typically good ones. The item in question almost inevitably not to your taste and something generic a salesperson has sold them. You quietly dread having another random piece you’ll be obliged to wear. Unfortunately, John reads you like a book.

“This was for Christmas but I fucked that up. If you don’t like it, we can change it.”

His deep voice is calm, but there’s a sudden tension to the set of his shoulders that gives him away as he holds the box out to you. If you didn’t know him so well you likely wouldn’t have noticed the slight shift in his stance but whatever is in the box in his hands means something to him. His willingness to interrupt sex for this should have tipped you off to that, but you freely blame the orgasm you’ve already had for being slow on the uptake.

The slim box is heavier than you expect, and you flick your eyes up to John’s face, the full weight of his attention settling on you again. You subconsciously hold your breath as you open the lid, the light of the room slowly revealing strands of luminous pearls gently forming a wave in the cradle of the box. The two long strands are held together with what’s obviously a vintage rectangle clasp, the aged silver and small diamonds sparkling amongst the gently rolling pearls. The breath you’ve been holding leaves your lungs in a surprised rush.

“Oh my god – John.”

“You like it?”

“I love it, this is exactly my style. Oh, this is gorgeous! It must have cost you a fortune!”

John doesn’t comment on the cost, a slow smile replacing the carefully blank expression he’s been wearing since you took charge of the box.

“Thought of you when I saw them. I’m glad you like them, darling.”

He’s about to say something else but changes his mind, reaching out to cup your jaw for a kiss instead. You clock the shift and run your fingertips over the pearls lightly, enjoying the feel of the cool smooth globes for a moment while you consider the man in front of you. You slowly piece together his request for your dress from earlier with the unspoken words he’s just swallowed and look down at the pearls in the box.

“Should I wear them?”

You know that’s the right question when his pupils dilate, his fingers spasming along your jaw as a full body shiver runs through him. You lift the necklace carefully from the box, handing him the empty container back. Without looking he tosses it, sending his cell phone and spare change flying from the impact. He doesn’t flinch, his eyes locked on you as you settle the pearls around your neck, spinning the clasp so it sits against your nape. The cool spheres brushing against your skin raise goosebumps again, your nipples tightening. You wonder what you must look like, perched nearly naked on the edge of the bed in nothing but a bra and the pearls he’s bought you, your hair a post orgasm mess. You’re about to run your hand over it self-consciously but John steps into your space, tilting your head back as he bends to kiss you again.

“You’re stunning; I love that I get to see you like this.”

You aren’t expecting that kind of tender admission from the aroused man in front of you, and it makes the breath catch in your throat, your hands wrapping around his wrists. John swallows the soft hiccup of breath, kissing you hungrily as he cups the back of your head. The sweep of his tongue over yours with the hint of your taste still discernable unlocks something in you. Suddenly you find yourself rising up on your knees to kiss him back, John’s appreciative groan giving you a jolt of empowerment. Your hands scrabble over his shoulders, sinking your fingertips into the heavy muscle as you press against his solid frame. John’s deft fingers undo your bra, breaking away from your mouth to tug it off your arms. The pearls make a soft sound as they clink together with your movements, sending a shiver down your spine.

The planes of John’s stomach jump as your hands land on his lower abdomen, fingers trailing through the dark hairs there. They work their way under the band of his pants, shoving them down his shifting hips as his mouth drops to seek out the line of your collarbone. He nips the rounded corner of your shoulder before kicking off his pants and boxers, his erection bobbing against your hip. Your fingers find him automatically, wrapping around the hard length of him and stroking, his hiss of pleasure ghosting across your neck. The gentle rattle of the pearls as your arm moves back and forth is seductive, bracing yourself with a palm in the centre of John’s chest, the dark hairs crinkling under your palm. You give him a gentle shove with your fingertips and when that doesn’t register you remove your hand from around his length, placing both palms on his chest to direct him into bed. John allows himself to be moved, landing nearly in the middle of the bed, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that makes your belly quiver.

His gaze follows the sway of the pearls over your breasts as you crawl up his body, sliding your palms up the hair of his thick thighs to cup him, forcing a jagged exhale out of his lungs. The head of his cock is flushed a deep red, a matching colour working its way over his throat and chest. His stomach pulls taut as he watches you bend over him, stroking him firmly, foreskin pulling back as you wrap your lips around the tip. John’s groan of pleasure rumbles through his body, his fingers landing in your hair. You open your jaw take as much of him as you can, making a few enthusiastic passes before pulling back and swirling your tongue around the head, tracing with the flat of your tongue. John flexes his hips, chasing the sensation with a guttural moan that only encourages you to wreck him further, your eyes landing on his blissed-out face.

The pearls trail through his dark body hair, making a mouth-watering contrast between the cool luminous globes and the heated flesh in your grasp. You return your attention to the tip of his cock, lapping your tongue over the underside while you fondle his balls. As his hips arch again you open your jaw and let the rise send his length down your throat, the stretch making your eyes water. His choked gasp and the press of his blunt fingernails into your scalp telegraph his pleasure at your unexpected action.  You hold still for a moment, your body fighting the invasion, your gag reflex fluttering around him before you pull back. The salty taste of his pre-cum coats your tongue and the shuddering deep groan you pull from him as you ease off goes straight to your pussy, a low throb starting to build again between your legs.

“Fuck, that feels so good.”

The low reverberation of his voice rolls down your spine and you flex your fingers against his hip in response, encouraging him to repeat the action. The naked desire in his voice makes you want to rub your thighs together and purr so you do the next best thing and moan around his tip, forcing a sharp gasp out of his lungs. His control is slipping, you can tell by the way his hips buck upwards, not even and measured as before. His length slides down your throat again, the quivering muscles wrenching an unguarded moan from his chest. The pearls draped over your skin start to collect against your throat and you realize he’s gathering them in his fist. You follow the unspoken direction and ease off, long strings of saliva connecting you for a moment after he slips from your mouth.

“Condom, now.”

He releases the necklace to let you lean over and fish a condom out of the drawer and you follow the order without argument, wiping your face in the process. Your willingness to be ordered around ends abruptly with a smack to his hand when he tries to take it away from you and take over. You end up straddling his wide thighs to pin him down with your weight, knowing that John only stays flat on his back because it’s what you want. He lets you roll the condom down his hard length and press him up against his abdomen so you can scoot forward over his hips. His breathing is laboured, your hands on him making his muscles contract as he fights to lay still as you settle over him. His eyes are dark and intense, locked on you as the pearls sway over your body with your movements, the gentle roll of them over your skin like a caress.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous.”

John breathes the words as you kneel over him, reaching behind you to wrap your fingers around him again, guiding him to your slick entrance, focused on lining yourself up. You answer him with a heated kiss, your attention on the stretch as you lower yourself, spearing your aching pussy on his tense body. Your palm rests on the steady planes of John’s chest, his head thrown back and the muscles of his neck corded as you slowly start rocking your hips, working him inside until he’s fully seated. He hisses as you rise over him and sink back down, setting a slow and steady pace with a pleased purr. The weight of John’s gaze lands on you again, his hands hovering over your hips as you move, the pearls rocking back and forth over the tight buds of your nipples. The heated drag of his cock through your silken walls has your nails biting into his chest in pleasure. John groans but doesn’t try to shift your hands, his attention fully on you as his hips rock up to meet yours.

“You like seeing me in things you’ve picked out?”

The words fall out of your mouth without any forethought, the part of your brain normally tasked with assimilating information overwhelmed with delicious sensation. The slight rise of John’s hips grinds his public bone against your clit with each downward stroke and your brain goes fuzzy with each lingering contact, shivers running up your spine.

“Yes, yes just like that, bloody hell.”

His hands finally land on your hips, squeezing you as he urges you on, trying to speed you up. You resist, twisting slightly as you rise pulling a low groan out of him, your hands wrapping around his wrists to steady yourself. You slide down his length again, clenching around him as your grind down, biting your bottom lip. There’s a severe look on John’s face as he curses again, your breath coming in shorter pants as you move over him.

“Why that dress?”

John answers that nagging question with the same bald honesty he’s answered everything else you’ve asked of him today, his eyes falling to the spot where your bodies are connected, his fingers dimpling your hips with his grip.

“Don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you in that dress since you turned up in it.”

You continue your steady pace, John’s flushed face impossible to look away from. There’s devotion etched there, and your heart squeezes painfully in your chest, feeling too large for your ribcage.

“When you were away? Did you ever think of me in that dress?”

“Every night. Love, please.”

This is as close as you’ve ever heard John beg for anything, an echo of his words from this morning. His desperation sends a thrill through your belly, speeding you up, the pearls clacking together against your heated flesh. You can feel John’s cock jerking deeply inside you, bumping against the sensitive patch of flesh that resides there and it weakens your thighs, your body wanting to go pliant against him.     

“John- “

“I’ve got you.”

He understands immediately and grips the globes of your ass as you drape over his heaving chest, your breathy panting muffled against the base of his neck. He braces his feet against the bed and fucks up into you, his grip spreading your cheeks as you moan into his ear. You can barely hear his muttered curse over the rush of blood in your ears and your own wanton noises, unable to stop yourself as John chases his pleasure now, his grip bruising. You nip at his thick shoulder, your teeth razing over his skin, his low rumbling moan vibrating through you as his blunt cock relentlessly buries itself in your slick pussy. The tightening coil of pleasure builds at the base of your spine, your muscles clenching around him as he buries himself and holds still, his hands shifting back to your hips.

“Sit up, love, I want to see you.”

You follow John’s order mindlessly, dragging your palms over his chest to press yourself back up, biting your lip when John twitches deep inside you, meeting his heated gaze. To your surprise he sits up too, the thick muscles of his abdomen flexing and pressing against you as he settles inches from your face, his legs going akimbo behind you. His big palms land on the tops of your thighs, squeezing your flesh in encouragement.

“Bounce, love.”

Again, you follow his direction without any compunction, and immediately your nails dig into the tops of his shoulders as this position offers more friction against your clit. A gasp is torn from your throat after the first experimental rise of your hips, and soon you land on a rhythm that has the frame of the bed groaning. The pearls are trapped between your bodies, the soft clinking nearly inaudible as the tension in you builds quickly, the angle making your toes curl and your moans climb in volume. John’s strong hands steady your sides, his body jerking up into you with each bounce, the walls of your soaked pussy bearing down on him tightly. His eyes are inches from yours, and you’re transfixed and unable to look away, his pupils blown.

All it takes is a firm smack on your ass to tip you over the edge, the jolt enough to make you clench around him, your nails raking over his back as you try desperately to ground yourself against the sudden cresting wave of your orgasm. A keening cry escapes you, your inner thighs trembling with strain as you try to clamp around his hips, the rhythmic pull of your slickened walls dragging a primal sound of out John’s chest before he tips you onto your back. His demanding thrusts send sparks shooting up your spine, catching the back end of your orgasm and drawing it out. You can feel the thundering of your heart in each extremity, your hands wrapped around John’s biceps as his hips jerk into the soft flesh of your body, the wet slap replacing the groaning of the bedframe. John’s thrusts quickly lose their rhythm, your leaking pussy pulsing around him tightly, drawing a broken sound out of him. He jerks into you deeply, making tiny little thrusts as he cums hard, his forehead landing on your shoulder as he groans loudly.

You stay locked like that, desperately trying to catch your breath for a few long minutes, John recovering quicker than you. You wordlessly protest when he tries to disentangle himself, tightening your limbs around him with a groan.

“I love you but I’ve got to get rid of this condom, darling.”

The low rumble of his voice in your ear convinces you to relax your hold on him and he extricates himself gingerly, leaving you sprawled the wrong way on the bed, too relaxed to bother moving the right way round. Finally, your heart rate slows and you marshal yourself to sit up, propping yourself on an arm. The pearls drape gracefully over your body as you move, swaying with you. John is at the sink when you meet his warm gaze across the room.

“You alright, love?”

“mhm, just needed a minute.”

John watches, half amused as you wriggle out of bed, making your way on wobbly legs to join him in the bathroom to pee. He leaves and returns with the case for the pearls, placing it on the counter by your elbow as you wash and dry your hands.

“John?”

You ask as he turns back to the bed, tugging the duvet cover with the wet spot off the duvet and tossing it towards the laundry hamper. The case for the pearls closes with a click as you return them to their place and you nudge the box into it's new spot beside your perfumes lined up on the counter.

“Hm?”

John’s proclivity for order and neatness distracts him from answering you and you smile affectionately as he wrestles the duvet back into a fresh cover. Once he’s satisfied you climb into bed, watching the curve of his spine as he bends to collect his cell and change from where they have scattered.

“What should I know about Kate before our dinner?”

He straightens and replaces the objects in his hands on his bedside table, crawling into bed and spooning you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he rolls you on to your side. You offer no resistance, sighing softly, feeling deeply content and drowsy, your fingers tracing over his forearm.

“Well, to start she’s American, and a very good poker player. Impressive poker face.”

From your position you can’t tell if he’s joking or not but you let his words roll over you nonetheless, the rise and fall of his voice soothing. Exhaustion from the highs and lows of the day are pulling you under before you can learn what part of America she hails from, or ask any more questions about the mysterious figure in John’s life.

Next Chapter

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[rampantram]

I've been saving this but I can't take it anymore... your art is super cool!! I love the drawing style you have, especially the lines and expressions. Also the dynamic poses and interactions between characters, everything looks so cute but at the same time exciting to keep watching!! I would read a whole manga with your art in it :3

Curious question: what size are your drawings normally? I see that you draw in pencil and many times there is more than one drawing on a single canvas/sheet so I am curious to know approximately the size of your drawings

I hope you don’t mind me using your ask to say this, but…you guys have no idea how much your kindness and positivity has affected me since I started posting my CotL stuff.

I’ve had anxiety since I was a kid, and depression for almost a decade now, and most recently been diagnosed with ADHD and OCD. I’ve had the most lows in my life over the past few years, and my consistency and drive to draw has suffered for it; at most, I’ve posted every other week, but mostly once every couple of months, and even longer than that until now. Being on medication has affected my motivation to draw, and I’ve been on short-term disability for over a month now, trying out new medications and feeling mostly miserable from the side effects.

Despite all that, I’ve wanted truly to finally be consistent with art, interact with people, try new things, and it’s helped so much to have so many people loving the things I’ve come up with. I haven’t been as consistent this last week, and spotty some weeks before that, but you’ve all been so patient despite that, which is part of the reason I want to give you some transparency and vulnerability on my part.

So I apologize if things continue to be a little less than organized or consistent, but I’m going to keep trying my best everyday, because I want to keep bringing you things you enjoy and want to interact with, so…thank you. 🥹

But getting to your question before I really start to tear up…this 9x12 sketchbook by Strathmore (specifically the recycled paper) is what I’ve been using for my sketches for a long while:

And it typically depends on how big or small I think each of the drawings should be, but I do try to keep them on one page if I can just for organizations’s sake.

Also if I know I need to post it from my phone, I try to make things easier for myself by putting things within proximity of each other with my phone’s camera in mind (not the whole page because it’ll be blurry, up and down since that’s easier for me to take a shot with, and so on).

If I’m gonna scan it, that makes things a bit easier, but I do try to condense them enough so I can try and avoid doing two scans of the same page and having to stitch them together (this one below just ended up taking the whole page, and since most scanners - my roommate’s included - usually only scan Letter or A4 size areas, those I end up having to scan on multiple parts and edit them together in Clip Studio Paint).

But of course, it all comes down to what feels right or works with your own method the best (as long as you achieve the outcome you wanted, the tools and method to get there don’t necessarily have to be the “best” or “right” way to do it).

I hope this helps, though, and that you have a brilliant day~✨

[justmystyles]

Like Riding a Bike

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 677

summary: despite being on break, Harry manages to find his way back onstage.

a/n: i've been away for a bit, i hope you guys didn't forget about me! i've got a couple of half finished one shots i'm hoping to complete and post in the coming weeks, including some of the asks that you beautiful people have sent me! i really miss writing, but motivation has been hard to come by.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You and Harry walked down the street hand in hand. The streetlights illuminated the late night city streets, as the sounds of laughter and conversation filled the summer air. The two of you had just finished dinner, and decided to take a stroll around the city. 

As you approached the outdoor beer garden, you heard a familiar melody from the band that was performing. You look up at Harry, and he gives you a sly smirk in return, as he hears his own lyrics flowing through the air. 

“Wanna go grab a pint?” He asks. 

You giggle as he leads you toward the gate. “I think somebody just needs attention.” 

He looks at you incredulously. “Who me?!”

You slapped him playfully on the arm as the two of you entered the beer garden. You both stand in the back at first, but as the song goes on you can see Harry’s face, you know he wants to make his presence known. He had been on a break for a few months, and while he was loving the peace and quiet, Harry was a performer first and foremost. He loved being the center of attention. 

You tug on his arm, getting his attention. “Go on, I’ll hang back here,” you say encouragingly.

“Yeah?” He asks, you nod encouragingly, and giggle as he makes his way to the front.

While everyone else is sitting, holding conversations with their parties, Harry stands directly in front of the stage, waiting to be noticed. The singer does a quick double take, and Harry nods in confirmation. He is immediately ushered on stage, just as they get to the bridge. The crowd is so locked in their own conversations that they don’t notice what is happening, until he opens his mouth.

“Go home, get ahead, light speed internet…”

You watch from the back as eyes go wide, heads start to turn, and phones start being pointed at the stage as he does the abridged versions of his typical stage moves, adjusting to the significantly smaller stage size. He has performed on some of the biggest stages in the world, but in a setting like this there’s something particularly special to him. Maybe because in all those stadiums and arenas, people are there for him. But here, it’s just people having a night out that couldn’t care less that he’s onstage. Getting their attention, and winning them over gives him a special kind of rush. 

The song ended and the crowd went crazy, cheering and shouting. Harry bowed before turning to confer with the band, you knew exactly what was happening. Your theory was confirmed when the band started playing, and Harry stepped up to the microphone and began singing Adore You. 

Your eyes were locked on him, watching him do what he loves, what he was born to do. Your heart melting just a little each time he’d shoot you a glance or a wink. It was a bittersweet moment, while you’ve both enjoyed his break, but this was just a reminder that he had greater things waiting for him. 

Once the song finished, Harry thanked the audience, hugged the band and stepped offstage, where he was stopped every few steps for a hug or a photo. He greeted everyone kindly, smiling and chatting with them. Eventually he made his way back to you, you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the one he always  had when he got off stage.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

You arch a brow at him. “Are you? Or do you want to do another encore?” 

Harry chuckles and grabs your hand, tugging you toward the exit. “Jealous?”

“Nope, part of the territory of being a superstar’s girlfriend. I know I have to share you with the world.” 

You get back onto the street, and he pulls you into him, wrapping his arm around your waist as you continue to walk down the street. “Not always, my love.” He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s get home so you can have me all to yourself.” 

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Twelve

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut !!! (Oral / Very suggestive language) mild anxiety, fluff, alcohol/drinking (it’s a bar, we know this) VERY brief themes with grief, silly banter, flirting, and Come On Eileen mentions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Charlotte thinks herself into a little spiral, landing her at the bar. Josh must have made her drink strong tonight, because she definitely made a choice!

Author's Note: Oh babies, I have been vibrating with excitement to post this chapter. We’ve made it through the dry-spell!! 🫡🫦 have fun!!

Talk (Unreleased) - Harry Styles "Don't ask me to talk about, I don't wanna talk at all."

“Maybe she was right. Maybe they were both right. I should just live a little,” I mutter to myself as I pace the house. You deserve to be happy; just let it happen. 

Daydreaming about the precious long-haired boy who has my stomach in knots. The way I still can’t believe we kissed more than once. It was hard to deny how sweet he was. Always made sure I didn’t walk to my car alone at night. Asking me to text him when I make it home. Checking that it’s okay that he kissed me, even though I went for him first. 

I’ve never met someone who had me so smitten so quickly. It would be a lie to say I’m not a little nervous, but I’m trying to do right by Cassie. She told me to stop thinking myself out of happiness and so .. I’m trying not to think too hard. 

I wish I needed to be there today. 

Mindlessly tidying up to try and keep myself distracted, I look through the handful of books sitting on the coffee table. For transparency’s sake, they are all romances. Maybe it’s because I just don’t have anything non-fiction on my to-be-read list or the fact that I feel like I’ve seemingly met a man written by a woman; the world will never know. 

Flipping one of them over to read the summary on the back, in italics, reads ‘friends with benefits.’ It stops me in my tracks, metaphorically. ..That’s a bad idea.. Right? I shake my head, trying to rid the idea entirely. Tossing it back on the coffee table and staring at it like it just insulted me personally. 

I pick up my phone, seeing the time, 4:03 pm, with an unread message from him.

Jacob: someone keeps queuing up the same song on the jukebox and I cant stop laughing

Jacob: idk how many times you can listen to Come On Eileen before you lose your mind but I have to be close to it 

I laugh at the idea of him losing it while behind the bar, especially with how calm his demeanor is. I can’t picture him being distraught. What if I just went and got a drink? That wouldn’t be weird, right?  

Me: Too many ‘too loo rye ay’s for you huh?

I mean, we are basically friends at this point and we’ve made out twice.. I don’t think me going to the bar for a drink would be .. wrong?  Staring at my leggings and fuzzy socks, I get up and quickly walk into my bedroom. I stare at myself in the full-length mirror; my hair is still fairly curled from last night. 

I pull out my olive cigarette pants, toss them onto my bed, and start digging through my closet. Finding an off-white sweater hiding in the back, I think I can make this cute. Changing into those and standing in front of the mirror, I tuck the bottom of the sweater up into the band on my bra, cropping it slightly. 

“That feels better, I think,” I mumbled to myself. I slide my belt through the loops, pulling things together even more. Adjusting my necklace to sit on top of the sweater, moving the clasp back to it’s rightful place. 

I grab my phone from the bed, take a picture in the mirror, pulling up the group chat; 

The Laid-Ease 🤩

Me: [sends photo] is this cute? 

Quinn: YES YES YES

Willa: very!!

Mel: Oooooo! Yes 😍

I smile at their responses, feeling a little more confident in my impulse decision. I sit in front of my mirror with all my makeup next to me. I take my time, making sure everything looks how I want it. I typically stick with natural-looking makeup because I’ve always liked my freckles and don’t want to hide them. The least I can do is feel cute if I’m going to go sit at the bar, you know, just in case.  

Sufficiently killing enough time so that I didn’t get to the bar too early. Finding a parking spot proved to be a little more difficult tonight. But being further away, I was able to sit here for a minute before walking over. 

Is this a dumb idea? No Char- you need to just go inside and get a drink. Josh is probably bartending anyway, so he’ll probably just talk to you. 

Forcing myself out of the car, I slowly walk over to the bar, taking deeper breaths as I do, trying not to let anxiety win. I'm doing this for you, Cass.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Luckily for me, I found a seat at the bar, and Josh is an angel. Bringing me a drink quickly and chatting with me for a few minutes before checking in on other customers. 

I slide my book from my bag, making myself comfortable as I sip on my drink for a while. My thoughts get louder as the alcohol slowly hits me. Rereading the same page a few times before actually processing it. 

You know he’s here–just go say hi. Shaking my head as I swallow the last sip of my drink. It’s very unlike me to let anything like this even remotely happen. 

You’ve never caved in a work situation, it’s honestly shocking. Unprofessional if you ask me. Okay but to be fair– none of the people I've had to work with look like him. You really can’t blame me for having eyes. 

Flipping the page of my book, I try to refocus. I wonder what he’s wearing today. Does he have his button up that he hardly buttons on? Jesus, what did Josh put in this drink? 

Forcing myself to read a few more pages before moving my bookmark into its new home. 

“Is Jacob in his office?” I ask Josh as he’s lingering close to where I’m sitting.

He nods quickly, “Where else would he be?” His eyebrows raise as he looks over at me, “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

I slide out of my barstool, adjusting my pants quickly. His office isn’t far down the hall; as I round the corner into the door frame, I take him in for a second. He’s so pretty. 

I gently knock to get his attention, watching his eyes light up as he sees me makes my stomach turn. Just go for it.

His sweet voice lingers in the room as he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

I swallow my nerves and whisper, “I know.” Stepping further into the small space, pushing the door shut behind me. Everything feels like slow motion again.

Turning to him, I’m barely taller than him while he’s sitting; I grab the sides of his face as I lean in. The feeling of his lips against mine makes my heart beat harder. I have kissed my fair share of men in my life, but none compare to him. The way his lips are so soft and how he goes for my bottom lip makes me wonder if he would ever sink his teeth into it. 

“Well, it’s nice to see you too,” he whispers through a small giggle, which makes me laugh with him. His hands gently rest on my waist. The way he looks at me, this man is going to be the death of me. 

I lean back in; this time, I can’t stop how desperate I feel. My hands find the back of his neck; my fingertips pressed into him like I’m afraid he’s going to run away. His grip on me tightens, pulling me closer. My legs bump into his knees; well, there’s only one way to solve this. 

Before I have time to think, I’m straddling his lap, his arms wrapped around me, my hands sliding up into his hair. Oh my god. My breath hitches as he lightly dances his tongue against my lip, and who would I be to deny him that? Goosebumps flood my body as he deepens the kiss, his grip on my shirt getting tighter, pulling me against him harder. I let my teeth grab his bottom lip, barely enough pressure to gently pull it back, when the sweetest little moan escapes him. 

The sound alone was enough to get a girl wet, but then he smiled. And dear god– isn’t his smile gorgeous? A little pink staining his cheeks, we quietly laughed together as I tucked my face into his neck. I breathed him in for a moment, feeling his hands slide up and down my sides. I felt him shift a bit before he pressed a kiss into the base of my neck, sending chills through my body.

He continues to litter slow kisses up my neck and under my jaw as I sit back up. He takes his time, barely lifting up when he moves so I can feel his breath as he inches his way up. Nobody had ever taken the time he had with me; it felt like he was savoring every kiss. 

My hands timidly moved from his neck down to his chest. If we weren’t here, I would be pulling this shirt off of him. Thankfully, his button-up shirts didn’t leave much to the imagination; I gently tugged on one side, revealing his collarbone that I let my fingertips graze. 

He hums against my skin before moving to press a kiss just under my ear. 

“Mmm,” he rasps quietly, “I could stay here all night.” His low voice sends shivers down my spine and makes my heart throb. I need him.

I stand up, grabbing his hands from my waist. 

“Stand up for me?” I ask quietly, and he doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He leans against his desk as I lean into him. It’s my turn to have some fun. 

I kiss down his jawline as my hands find his hips. Tracing along the top of his belt, I move my lips to his neck; his skin is so warm. Deciding to take my chance, I slide his belt over, starting to undo it. 

“Charlotte,” he whispers, “what are you doing?” 

I look up at him, stilling my hands, to ask, “Is this okay?” 

His eyes meet mine, looking back and forth for a moment like he’s trying to make sense of what I’m doing. But honestly, I’m also trying to make sense of it. 

“Of course, it’s okay. I just—“ he stumbles over his words before I cut him off with a kiss. 

I mumble against his lips, “Let’s not talk about it right now.” 

Quickly undoing his belt and popping the button on his jeans, my mouth is already watering. I drop down to my knees as I’m unzipping him, seeing his cock twitch as I do. He leans over me, flipping the lock on the office door. 

I can’t help but press kisses into his stomach just above his boxers, watching the goosebumps flood his skin. Gently tugging the waistband down, letting him free. Holy shit. My hand immediately ran down his length as I glanced up at him.

“All for me, baby?” Slips out, and he just moans quietly in response. What is he doing to me? His face reddening at the pet name, and my heart is pounding at the soft sounds coming from him. Letting my tongue run up to the tip before sliding him into my mouth. I can barely see him gripping his desk, the veins in his hands popping out harder, which only sends another shock through my body. 

Slowly taking more and more, I want to savor the moment. I’ve never wanted to be in this position more in my life. His little whimpers as I move closer to the base, making me throb. I pull my head back, stroking him for a second as I tease him more. 

“Don’t be shy, I wanna hear you,” I tell him. A strained moan falls from his lips. Before going back in for more, I tuck some loose hair behind my ears. Feeling his hands carefully gather all my hair as he wraps it around his fist, he watches me as I move my head quicker. The moans falling from his lips get louder as I pick up speed. 

Knowing he must be getting close, I say the one thing I know will get him going. 

“Come on, Captain.” 

His head drops back as his hand tightens its grip on my hair, he lets out a breathy, “Please.” 

“Let me have it,” I whisper, plunging my head down his length, feeling his little trail of hair barely touch my nose. I bob my head a few times before using my hand to help get him there, feeling his muscles tense before he finally spits out any sort of warning.

“Charlotte- fuck,” is all he can get out before his orgasm hits him. Hearing him moan my name makes my heart flutter. He accidentally tugs harder on my hair, not that I mind. But lettting go to brush the little hairs away from my face as I pull back and tuck him back into his boxers. 

I sat back on my feet, just admiring him in this state. His face was a little flushed, eyes still closed as a little smile crept onto his face. Finally looking down at me, he reached his hands out for me to take. Pulling me close to him as he kisses me, but I move my face back out of shock. 

“But I just-“ I start; most men I have been with would never kiss me after I did that for them.

“Who cares?” He giggles, pecking my lips a few more times. “Don’t even mind the taste since it’s on your lips.” 

“Oh,” is all I can muster. I was so severely unprepared for how secure he actually was in himself. Why is that so sexy? Have I really wasted that many times on guys who are just insecure? I truly didn’t think that something so simple would make him even more attractive, but here we are. 

“Should I sneak back out there?” I ask as he fixes his belt. 

“If you do, I’ll come out and keep you company,” he says, looking back up at me. He looks like he’s fighting a smile, which I can’t decide what option is cuter. I lean myself into him, pressing a few small kisses against his lips. 

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I whisper, wiping my thumb across his lip gently. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sitting back in my seat at the bar, I watch as Josh makes my drink for me. I can’t believe I did that. My mind races with what just happened, the sounds he made, the way even just the thought makes me shift in my seat. 

“Thank you,” I pipe up as Josh slides my drink over to me. He flashes me a toothy grin before hustling over to take someone’s order. I’m not even halfway through my sip when Jacob’s voice floods my ears. 

“You doin’ alright?” his English accent slips out. He sneaks behind the bar but not too far from me. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up,” I smirk, taking a sip of my drink. The corners of his mouth quirked. He grabbed the towel next to him before walking over to where I sat. 

“Is that so?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow up. The way he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room makes my body warm. I’ve never had someone make me feel like this before. The way he’s standing in front of me, propping himself up against the bar. How his toned arms are lightly flexed, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look past how nice* his hands are. 

“Maybe,” I squeak out, leaning into my hands to try and get a little closer to him. The grin plastered on my face was undeniable. Looking at him in front of me after what just happened makes my head feel dizzy, and I’ve only had one drink. 

“Well, I’m very sorry, honey,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I’ll be damned; he’s good at it. “Rude of me to leave such a pretty girl like you waiting.” He thinks I’m pretty.  

My mouth moves faster than my brain can when I respond with, “I’ll let it slide this time.” Letting my eyes wander all over him as if nobody could see me. Noticing the way he’s biting the inside of his lip, the little twitch in his hand as my eyes drop to them. The movement of his necklace when he leans forward only fills my head with horrible thoughts. The thought of them bouncing off his chest as he– 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, subtly biting his lip. “Promise.” The look he’s giving me makes my thighs clench together. 

“Oh, I’ll be looking forward to that,” I try to hide how nervous that makes me. I haven’t done anything with someone for a while, let alone having someone … do something for me. Usually on my own for that. 

He stares at me for another second before letting his head drop back a little. He stares at the ceiling before shaking it as he looks down. A soft little smile is on his lips. What is he thinking about that has him grinning like that? 

I cave, “What’s that face for?” 

He lets out a laugh, letting his smile grow, showing off his teeth now. His eyes rake over me again, his arms folded over his chest; he really is so cute. 

“It’s nothing,” he finally spits out. 

My eyebrows pull in, “I don’t buy that one bit.” Squinting at him as tries to do the same face back but not being able to hold it.

“I can’t say it right now,” he says, moving closer to the bar. He leans down, propping himself up with his elbows.

“Why not?” I don’t know what is in the air tonight, but I can’t stop myself from poking at him more and more. 

“It’s not the right place,” he laughs, “people could hear me.” 

“Just whisper it to me,” I excitedly spit out, “we can pretend it’s a secret.” I watch as he looks around the room, moves back, and mouths ‘hold on’ to me. 

  He pours two fresh beers from the tap, walks them over to a table, and grabs their empty glasses. He then wanders around the booths for a moment, making sure everybody is happy. I steal glances at him a few times, doing my best to not stare at him, but it’s hard. He’s a deceivingly intoxicating man; you’d never expect it because he’s so quiet at first. 

How he’s gone this long without a girlfriend is beyond me. I guess it’s also something we’ve never really talked about, so maybe he just didn’t care? I can’t imagine girls not liking him. He’s so precious; how could you not develop a crush on him? Oh– I hadn’t thought that hard about that part of whatever this situation is. Do I have a crush on him? But I don’t live here, so that could make him not want to pursue anything– I don’t live that far, maybe he wouldn’t care. My thoughts race with questions of whether I’m making a mistake or not. 

I don’t want to jump into a relationship this fast. I don’t want to waste more time, but I have to do something because I just know Cassie would punch me if I didn’t do this. Suddenly remembering the book that offended me earlier today, ‘Friends with benefits’ plays in my head. Maybe he would be okay with that..? That way I can make sure this is what I want to do. That sounds reasonable, right? I’d say we’re friends and who would say no to the benefits? He already promised me something, and I need to know what that is now.  

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I feel someone gently place their hand on my back. I look over to see him setting a few glasses on the bar. He’s so close I can feel the warmth coming off of him and smell his cologne. 

“Oh, sorry, excuse me,” he giggles quietly. Turning to leave, he stops, sliding his hand up to the base of my neck and lightly giving it a squeeze. He drops his head to whisper, “Was just thinking about how I can’t wait to hear your pretty voice moaning my name.” 

My jaw falls open as he says it; looking up at him, his face is flushed like he’s embarrassed to admit it. He gives me a slow wink before sauntering off to talk to customers, leaving me to think about that. I definitely need to know what he plans on doing to make it up to me now. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Our nightly routine begins once more as we walk in comfortable silence to my car. 

I quietly break the silence, letting out, “The sky looks so pretty tonight.”

His head tilts up quickly to take it in while I watch him. His eyes scanned all the stars and the light from the moon, illuminating him with no cloud in sight. 

“She really is amazing, isn’t she?” he spoke so softly, looking over at me. 

“Who..?” 

“The moon,” he chokes back a little laugh. “She’s incredible.” He looks so happy as he looks back up at the sky. The chill of November made it so I could see his breath as we walked, but it also kept me closer to him in hopes of stealing some of his warmth. 

Our hands timidly brush against each other a few times until he glances down, sliding his hand into mine. I just know Cassie is somewhere screaming over how  I am with him. I just look at our hands intertwined, the way his thumb just runs over mine, and smile when he squeezes a little to make me look at him. 

“Your chariot, madame,” he says, gesturing his free hand to my car. 

“Oh, thank you, sir.” I try to play along, letting a small laugh slip partway through. We just stood there in comfortable silence for a second, still hand in hand. 

“So,” he mumbles, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nod, fighting the urge to just stare at his mouth. 

“Drive home safe. Text me when you make it. You know the drill at this point,” his sweet giggle lacing the latter half. 

“Of course, mhm,” I tell him, moving a little closer to him, “I hope you have a good rest of your night, Jacob.” His eyes practically twinkling in the moonlight as I gaze at him. He leans in, his plump lips pressed into mine but backs up quickly with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Back to my full name already?” his smug little tone made me laugh. My hands grab the sides of his face, pulling him back in for another kiss. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to call you Captain in public after that,” I say against his lips; he lets out a small groan at the name. 

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he mocks me, stepping back and grabbing my hands. He pulls them up, placing little kisses across my knuckles. How is he real? He reaches past me to open my car door. 

“Now, get home before it’s too late.” 

I toss my bag into the passenger seat before sitting down and starting it. Turning to him one more time, looking up at him, I can’t stop myself from smiling. I grab his shirt and tug him towards me. His hand holding onto the doorframe, leans down, hovering over my mouth until I finally cave.

 “One more,” I mumble before closing the gap between us. He laughs into me, knowing I full well just stole his line. 

“I’ll be waiting for your text,” he says, pointing at me with his eyebrows raised as he moves back to shut my door. 

I sit there for a minute, just watching as he walks back towards the bar until he’s finally out of sight. I click on the address in my maps and set my phone in the cup holder. Looking back up at the moon, seeing how bright it is tonight. She is beautiful. 

I can’t take my eyes away from it, feeling the tears settling in, and into the quiet of my car I whisper, “I hope you’re proud of me, and god, I wish I could call you right now.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Thirteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[yuri-is-online]

10. Getting a visit from him while you're sick and thinking it was a dream.

I AM SO SORRY I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED YOUR ASK BY POSTING IT TOO EARLY (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

I really really hope you like this friend, I am very grateful for your support <3

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, typical best friend pining for Deuce, references to fainting from exhaustion for Jack. Check out the other requests on my masterlist here.

Silver

"Golden hour" is a funny term when you are forced to think about it under the influence of Twisted Wonderland Benadryl. Which is to say that you feel very grateful to be hallucinating an image of Silver and not the hat man. Rook would be much too willing to entertain this line of thought.

"I just think that it's kind of funny," you try to justify to not-Silver who has kindly allowed you to rest your head in his lap "that your name is Silver and you sort of look like that y'know." He blinks, an intense look of concentration knitted over his lovely face.

"Not really." He says, genuinely remorseful. "I'm just not that imaginative I'm sorry." He idly strokes your hair, the ghost of a smile growing the longer he looks at you. It flutters into your heart and briefly halts your train of thought; you don't know if you should be happy it's the weekend so this can't interrupt your classes or mad you can't enjoy your day off. But then, what about this dream? Silver doesn't really go out of his way to hang out with you, if you had not been running a fever...

You had been reaching for him, pausing only when you realize in a desperate effort to stay in the illusion. What had you been talking about? You wonder ignoring the way Silver leans to follow your hands. Oh right, golden hour.

"It's super pink and purple," you mumble "and it's just- it's supposed to be the prettiest thing in the whole wide world and there it is trapped in your eyes." Sliver takes a deep breath, almost like he is trying to restrain something, before slowly, gently, caressing your eyelids in an effort to convince them to close.

"I think you need to go back to sleep prefect." You want to tell him that's a silly suggestion because you are already asleep, but something about finally closing your eyes makes you just that much more comfortable. As you drift into the darkness, you feel someone pick you up, cradling you bridal style as they begin to walk up the Ramshackle Dorm staircase.

"The prettiest thing in the world, huh. I wonder what that says about you, when you are what's reflected in them?"

Deuce

Today was not a good day for the only plot relevant members of freshmen class A. Both of your friends had forgotten to charge their phones last night, and while Ace had been smart enough to slip his into his pocket, Deuce had left his charger back in their dorm room. That hadn't really been anything other than an inconvenience at first, but then the rain had started.

"I'll be fine, you two should worry about yourselves, I know Varags isn't canceling your club practices for this."

You really should not have said that. Maybe you haven't been feeling well for a while now or maybe the rain + no central heating + no parental figure had been what put you down. It didn't really matter what caused it, you feel like death and none of your text messages are making it through to either of your friends. At least Grim was kind enough to bring you a bunch of blankets and pillows from your room, there was no way you were giving him free reign in Sam's with your wallet no matter how badly you needed medicine. The only thing left to do is try and sleep it off and that's what you do, tossing your phone onto a chair Grim had propped up next to the couch.

~~~

Deuce had been sitting in the library before Trey kindly told him that you were out sick. He had not bothered asking where Ace had gone off too, assuming that by the time he made it to Ramshackle he would already be there and laughing at him. But that was not the case and now that he is sitting here wondering if he should try to wake you up or just let you sleep he can't decide if he is angry at Ace or happy to be alone with you. He does know he feels disappointed for even needing to ask.

"Yuu?" He decides to try and whisper, that way if you're deep asleep you won't react. You are curled up on the couch so tightly you might as well be a cat, the way you nuzzle into his palm when he tries to take your temperature does not help. You open your eyes but don't say anything at first, you just... smile? Smile and reach to hold his hand with a contended mrrp. Every muscle in Deuce's body is painfully tense, he desperately wishes he knew what he was supposed to do in this situation.

He knows what he wants to do, but that has to be the one thing he is not supposed to, right? You are his best friend, there is nothing more than that. It's with friendly intent you reach to hug him, it's with friendly concern he pulls you into his embrace and holds you tightly so you don't crash onto the floor.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He whispers and you shake your head into his chest before looking up into his eyes with pure friendly adoration.

"I wish you were here," your eyes close, sending you back into sleep and Deuce into a spiral "I want to wake up in your arms just once."

"Me too..." he relaxes, gently moving you back to your couch before you can do more harm. "I- I hope you can remember I want that too."

Jack

Jack adjusts the position of your arms around his neck and makes sure he has a firm grip on your thighs.  He has given piggy backs before but never to an unconscious person.

"You need to be more realistic about your limits."  The words taste like sandpaper on his tongue, for someone so invested in the opinions of his seniors Jack sure had been determined to ignore them when it came to how hard he pushed you.  He couldn't, well he could have helped it.  He could have done some research about how to safely start working out, or asked you if you were even interested in training with him.  But no, he did neither of those things, instead he just told you that your stamina was pitiful and that you were going to start training with him immediately.  Knowing him he probably threatened to leave you alone if you couldn't keep up, some friend he was.  "Sorry," he expected the word to feel heavier, maybe sting a little, but his pride doesn't feel any worse than it had when you fainted "I don't like seein you hurt."  Maybe it's because you're asleep and he doesn't actually have to worry about coming off too soft, or maybe it's because you stir in that sleep to bury your face further into his hair signaling that you still feel safe with him on some subconscious level, but he feels like he can just... talk.  Like even though you aren’t awake your heart will listen.

"I know I talk a lot about how if you're weak you'll get left behind, or that I don't need friends but that's just second nature y'know?  It's not like I don't want to be around you, and I definitely don't want you to get sick."  Again you move, but your steady breathing confirms you are still asleep as Jack nears Ramshackle with his precious cargo.  “When you wake up I’ll say sorry the right way, and make sure to get you some water… ha I wonder why you even came out today in the first place?  I’ve been a pretty shitty friend-”  

You take a deep, deep breath at the back of Jack’s neck, exhaling as your arms tighten around his neck in a way that could choke him if you had been angry but now feels more like a hug.  Hot air tickles him from his neck all the way down his spine as his stupidly keen ears pick up on a sleepy murmur he knows has to come from somewhere deep in your dream-addled mind.  Don’t be stupid, I wanted to spend time with you.  Why?  You know why!  And even if you don’t-

“It’s a secret~”  You actually say out loud, speeding up Jack’s heart rate and his steps.

If he doesn’t put you to bed soon he’s going to be the one who’s dehydrated. 

[yeoja-dream]

Intertwined

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader 

Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn

Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader

Content Warning: none 

Word Count: 3.5k

You woke up the following morning to the blaring of your alarm waking you from a restful sleep. Instantly, you are in a bad mood. The post-concert blues were hitting like a truck. How were you meant to go back to regular life after a night like that? 

You pick up your phone, scrolling through work emails. I’ll have the payment for this month’s tuition tonight! The twins will be missing from the 10 am hip-hop intermediate class! Ms. Y/N I really think I’m ready for pointe! You sorted through the usual sort of emails when your eyes landed on a more unusual email. Private lesson request. That’s weird. You muse to yourself, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you open the request, sliding yourself up into a seated position in bed.

“1 adult lesson, style is hip hop and modern…” You mused out loud scrolling through the details. “9 pm is cutting it a little close 1 hour before closing, but it says you’re prepaid so…” You trail off. “Approved!” You announced out loud before hitting the confirm appointment button through the appointment portal. “What was the name anyway?” you scroll back up and snort at the answer. Kim Seokjin? That had to be a joke or a crazy coincidence. Either way, you were definitely going to have to ID this new client. Imagine if it was him - the thought amuses you as you begin your day, preparing for a day of classes. 

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

Despite your initial grumpy start, and perhaps it was the thrill of a mystery client who, you admit you’ve been dreaming about being Jin all day, but the day passes you quicker than you first believed. Not even Roberto in your toddler dance class 1, his endless energy typically giving you an endless headache, broke your stride today. 

You waved the last student out, shutting the door and locking it behind you. Can’t be too careful these days. You reminded yourself. You glanced at your watch, 8:15. Perfect, 45 minutes until Mr. Kim Seokjin walks through my front door. You thought to yourself, bemused. 

Putting aside your delusion, you organized the studio for a private lesson, and most importantly, you could slip into the back and enjoy a light dinner. On your phone, you sighed dramatically as you found yourself flipping through photos from last night. When will I ever get to experience something like that in my lifetime? You whined inwardly, bemoaning your modest finances. Maybe in another life 100 years or so, another group will pop up and you will have saved enough to get the same seats. Maybe. Your daydreaming was interrupted, however, by the unmistakable sound of a locked door trying to be opened. 

Your eyes snap to the time. 8:58 pm. Shit. How could I have let time get away from me like that? You snap up from the paper-cluttered desk and run, as fast as your legs will take you through the studio room and into the reception area. It was the person visible through the glass that stopped you dead in your tracks. 

You blinked once, twice, and rubbed your eyes for good measure. Holy. Shit. HOLY SHIT. THAT WAS KIM SEOKJIN. KIM SEOKJIN IS STANDING OUTSIDE MY STUDIO RIGHT NOW. Amidst your internal, slack-jawed panic, Jin stood just outside, black t-shirt and baggy pants hung off him effortlessly. He held up a phone screen and pointed at it, saying something you couldn’t make out through the glass. 

Let him in you idiot! Your inner voice scolds. I can’t give a dance lesson to Kim Seokjin! I should be asking him for advice! You fired back. Let him in, idiot. She says, firmer this time which is enough to break you out of your stun. 

You walk up to the glass door, and with a trembling hand, undo the latch and swing open the door. 

“Sorry, I had a lesson scheduled for tonight, if now isn’t a good time I could reschedule.” He offers politely. He thinks I forgot.

“No, no come in please!” You said as you opened the door wider for him to slip in. “I didn’t forget it's just uh,” He made eye contact with you “...robberies.” It was all you could finish. 

“Right well, no worries!” He said, his disposition relentlessly sunny despite how badly you were screwing this up. 

“Oh sorry before I take you back,” You start, and again the voice in your throat dies into a timid squeak as you finish your sentence “I just really to see some ID and if you would change your shoes I would really appreciate that you see its just house rules and-” 

“Sure. No problem. Here’s my ID,” he said, handing it fully to you. Can I sit here and change my shoes?” He asked, gesturing to the bench next to the reception desk. 

“That is exactly what it is there for. I will sign you into the system so it won’t change you the no-call no-show fee.” You plopped down at the desk, ID in hand. “Is there a reason why there is a sticker over the numbers?” 

“Oh yeah, I have to show my ID sometimes and all it takes is one person with a good memory and bad intentions to steal my identity. I am sure you understand.” He said, slipping on a pair of clean, white sneakers. 

“Oh wow yeah, I guess that’s true. A lot of weirdos out there, huh?” You asked, sliding the ID back towards him. 

“Tell me about it.” He said, picking up the card. “What do you think, more handsome in real life, right?” He asked with a wink. 

As if reflexively, your eyes rolled before you had the forethought to process how rude it might have appeared. Jin laughed heartily. 

“No sorry! Force of habit!” You said, putting your hands together apologetically. “Of course, you’re more handsome in person!” 

“No no!” He said, still laughing. “It was a funny reaction, genuine.” He added, sliding the card into his wallet. “Shall we?” He asked gesturing to the dance studio. 

“We shall,” you said, leading the way. 

The studio lights had been dimmed, the normally bright, overhead fluorescent lights seemed too sterile for a one-on-one interaction. The rest of the equipment had been put to the sides of the room, leaving it completely vacant with the exception of the worn tape on the floor demarking where students were to stand. 

“So let's start with some stretches.” You said, sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Jin followed your command wordlessly. You turned yourself at an angle to him, feeling immediately more at ease. It was easier to deal with him on your periphery. There was a sensation, one that you had been able to ignore on account of your nerves that had been present, you now observed, since he had first arrived. It felt like blue zaps of electricity buzzing through you, and as you spread your legs, lean forward into a split, and feel the stretch, it clicks. This was the feeling you had at the concert. The electric current, the dizzy, hazy feeling that washed over you when you locked eyes with them, it was coming on stronger and stronger, and it was making you bolder. 

“So,” You began. “Let's start with the basics. What brings you to a random dance studio when your company has plenty of dance teachers and choreographers?” You ask, stretching an arm across your chest. 

Jin mirrored you. “Let’s call it happenstance. Besides, the greatest way to learn is to be taught by many teachers.” 

“Okay, Confucius.” You teased. “What did you want to learn today?” 

“I want to learn whatever it is you are learning.” He said matter-of-factly. 

You snorted. “I doubt you want to learn what I am learning.” 

“Try me.” He said, standing up. 

You followed his lead, standing. “If you insist.” You said with a shrug. From the back wall of the studio, you dragged two chairs to the center of the space, about 5 feet apart. “I have been choreographing a routine using this.” You said gesturing to the chair. 

He knitted his eyebrows together in concern for a moment, before the expression dissolved, as did his resolve. 

“Alright,” He began, “Show me first, so I can get an idea of what it is you are referring to.” 

You walked over to the music player, set a 10-second delay, and walked over into position. As the beat hit, you moved your body with long-practiced poise and grace. The routine was like lovers making love for the first time, slow, explorative, and careful to begin. As the song continues, though, the intensity rises before BANG! The finale. 

You lost yourself in the music, whatever high that crept into your system made you carefree and light. You put your everything into every moment, and as you grinded and body rolled, you never forgot whose eyes were on you. You didn’t shy away. 

As the song finished, you let loose the final, explosive move, a visual orgasm to finish the routine. You let the silence hang for a moment while you caught your breath, without the music, shame began to reach through the haze.

“Well…?” You asked, turning around. You weren’t sure what you expected him to look like, or even how you expected him to react, but as you turned, a dark, hungry, and heady expression sat on Jin’s face. Where before he had been kind, respectful, clinical, even, your heart rate rose and a scarlet blush traveled up your face as you couldn’t help but imagine what he was capable of. “Jin…?” You asked again, taking a step toward him. 

As you do so, he blinks and shakes his head. When he looked at you again, his expression was once again as kind and friendly as it had been before. “Sorry.” He said “Got a little lost in thought there. That was amazing, where did you learn to dance like that?” 

“I’ve been practicing my whole life,” You said. “I’d like to think I came out of my mother’s womb dancing.” You said with a chuckle. 

A slightly uncomfortable silence hung in the air before you cleared your throat to speak again. 

“Did you want to learn however much of that we can in…” you glanced at your watch “20 minutes?” You asked. 

“Oh, sure!” He said. “It looks like fun.” 

You walked over to the media player, setting the song’s tempo slower, and began the process of breaking down the dance, beat by beat. Sure enough, being the professional dancer he is, he is an extremely fast learner, never needing to go over the same part more than 3 or 4 times before he has it memorized. You watched him carefully, allowing yourself to be slightly more critical of him than you might be with a more inexperienced student. 

“This part,” you demonstrated, rolling your body with practiced fluidity, “needs to be sexier, more fluid.” 

“How is this?” He asked, his movements still stiff. 

“Not quite.” You said. “Pardon my French, but pretend you’re… well…” you trailed off. 

“Making love to someone.” He finished for you. 

“Right.” You agreed. 

“How about this?” He asked, a perceivable jerkiness still present. 

“Hm.” You mused to yourself. “I think you aren’t using the right muscles. Give me your hand.” 

He offered his hand to you, wordlessly.

You grabbed his hand, opened his palm up flat, and placed it on your stomach. The physical connection sent a strong zap through your body. Focusing on your breathing, you followed through, allowing him to feel the way your muscles were contracting as you did the movement. His expression was hard, unreadable. 

“So… did you feel that?” You asked pulling his hand away. 

“Yeah… I did,” he said, his voice far away and dry. “I definitely did.” 

“So uh, you try now.” You said, feeling shy. 

He did so without comment, and the visual of which causes something to tighten within you. 

“Yeah, that looks a lot better.” 

“Could you,” he began “Ah, never mind.” he cut himself off. 

“Hm?” You ask “I probably don’t mind so ask away.” 

“No, it sounds kinda pervy.” He said, looking down, ashamed. 

“I don’t, uh…” You stammered, unsure how to process what he just said. Was this guy about to ask me to what, take my clothes off so he can see better?? What the hell?

“Oh god that made it sound really bad.” He blurted. “I just wanted you to feel to make sure I was also using the right muscle groups but that sounded kind of weird sorry!” 

“Oh!” You laughed. “You should have said as much. That’s no problem.” 

You walked closer to him, placing your flat hand on his abdomen. You noticed now, as your hand connected with his body, warm tingling spread through your hand. It felt good, you decided, but the unexpected sensation had you pulling back your arm in shock.

“Sorry. “I got zapped.” You lied.

Placing your hand back on his abdomen, through his t-shirt you could feel the hard, lean muscle. The warm, tingly sensation returned, and you watched and felt, mesmerized, as those hard muscles contracted and relaxed through the roll, resisting the urge to cross your legs to relieve some of the building pressure inside of you. 

The proximity, the connection, it swirls through you and you find yourself transfixed, looking up at him. Your breathing is heavy, the current running through you, the haze swirling through your mind, and the tension and heat that was building in your core, it was almost too much to handle. You blinked up at him, his expression dark and unreadable. He looked down at you too, bringing a hand up, cupping your face gently. He searched your expression for a sign of protest, and when there was none, he dipped his head down, and soft, gentle lips met yours. 

You immediately felt breathless, and everything inside you was screaming, chanting at you to keep going. Maybe it was the dizzy way he made you feel, but this all felt so undeniably right. The kiss deepened, your lips parting to one another as you excitedly and feverishly explored one another’s mouth. He didn’t seem to dare to take the next physically, but you needed him. 

You ran your hands up his body and then around his neck, using the new position to press yourself flush to him. He moved his arms down, wrapping solidly around your waist. He backed you up slowly until your back was against the cool mirror of the studio. He pinned you there, placing his hands on each side of your head, against the glass. His arms flexed and relaxed with heavy practiced, restraint, as it took every fiber of his control not to rip your clothes off, take you, and mark you as his on this studio floor. 

He pulled away, suddenly, taking 3 halting, jerky steps backward. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Wha…?” You ask, dazed and confused. 

“I have to go.” He said, his voice serious and strained. In a flash, he was gone, with the sound of the front door closing behind him the only evidence he was ever really there. 

In the complete silence, the heated haze that filled your mind subsided slowly, and your mind worked in overtime to process the series of events that had just happened to you. An achey feeling blooms in your chest and a different type of heat spreads to your face, embarrassment. What the fuck you thought to yourself, he probably thinks I’m some kind of crazed slut. You allowed yourself to sink to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest tight. What the fuck is his problem anyway, he kissed me first, you reasoned. Maybe I am just a god-awful kisser, you added bitterly. Maybe I took things too far. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Fuck uncomfortable, he started it! He pinned you against the wall, he absolutely loved it. Two parts of your mine argued back and forth. Whatever the case, sitting in your dim studio feeling bad for yourself didn’t bring you any closer or make you any happier, so you resolved to pick yourself up and bring yourself home. 

You jammed your keys into the keyhole of your front door, unlocking it and entering your quiet apartment in a numb, dissociative daze. If you gave yourself 100,000 guesses this morning to guess as to how your day would end, you still wouldn’t have guessed you’d find yourself in the position you were in. Sleep tonight would be impossible, you decided. You made your way to your bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, grabbing one of the large, brown, glass bottles inside, shaking it tentatively. The last of the medicine you sighed inwardly, shaking the last two tightly-bundled, pill-sized leaf preparations from the bottle. When the nightmares would keep you awake, Dad would bring you two of these with a glass of warm, cinnamon-spiced apple cider. “These will help you sleep,” He said, handing you the pills. “And this,” he continued, “is full of spices to keep the monsters away.” Handing you the mug of hot, fragrant liquid.

“Like what?” You asked, voice still trembling from crying. 

“Cinnamon.” He told you, climbing into bed next to you. 

“Monsters don’t like cinnamon?” you asked, putting the bitter pills on your tongue, swallowing quickly. 

“Can’t stand it,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around you, holding you close to his side. The contact is comforting. “One sniff of it and they go running for the hills!” 

You giggled at that. “It must suck to be a monster, then.” You decided. 

“Most definitely.” Dad agreed.

The memory was bittersweet. You swallow the bitter preparations, speed through your evening routine, and slip in between your sheets, already feeling the drowsy effects blossom through your body and mind. With the last of your cognition, you grabbed your phone, sending a mass email. You needed a break.

Dear students and families, 

I have come down with something and as such, I will be suspending all classes for tomorrow. The following day, however, classes will return as scheduled. Thank you for your understanding. 

Best, 

Teacher Y/N

You hit send, and allow your eyes to close, sending you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I can’t get through,” Namjoon said, eyes closed, eyebrows knit together with concentration. 

“Should we go up to her place?” Taehyung asked, looking at the older man, concerned. 

“No,” Jin said, voice stern. “We have done plenty.” 

“We?” Jungkook snorted. “Hyung, last time I checked it was you who planted one on her, not us.” 

Jin shot him a dirty look. “If we had sent you, you would have lost control 30 seconds into being there and we would be having a much different conversation right now.” 

Yoongi walked over to Jin, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “You are completely sure?” Yoongi asked, his tone flat, measured. 

“As I have said 100 times over, yes,” Jin said, pushing down the growing irritation in his voice. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault he had gone too far. The way you looked up at him, the feeling of your hand on his body after he had just touched you, watched you move, he couldn’t help himself. He only hoped now that you felt the same way. 

“She could have taken something and that’s why you can’t reach her, right Namjoon-hung?” Jimin asked, running his fingers absentmindedly through the older’s hair.

“Mmm.” He grunted in affirmation. “She could also have a talisman or a barrier spell preventing me from getting in.” 

“So she’s probably fine,” Jimin said, voice calm.  

“Probably.” Namjoon agreed, sighing and allowing himself to slump fully onto Jimin, looking for comfort. 

���Well,” Hoseok chimed in. “Feeling bad or anxious isn’t particularly productive. Jinnie-hyung took things farther than he intended, but it sounds to me like she was probably okay with it. What probably freaked her out was you up and leaving without so much as an explanation like an antisocial weirdo. That would cause anyone to overthink.” 

“He’s got a point,” Yoongi said, his arms now draped over Jin’s shoulders, holding him in a back hug. 

“I know,” Jin said with a sigh. “If I could go back and do it differently, I would. But don’t you think by blocking us out she probably wants to be left alone?” 

“How would she know Joonie-hyung’s powers?” Jungkook said. An obvious question, perhaps, but a brief silence settles over the group. It is a good point. 

“The way I see it, we tell her or we don’t, and we need to decide which pretty quickly,” Hoseok said. 

“I would want to know if I were her,” Taehyung said. 

“Me too,” The group agreed. 

“So we offer a connection,” Yoongi began. “Contact her, apologize for being a weirdo, offer to meet up and explain some things.” 

Jin flinched at the weirdo comment. “Let her decide,” He said, “It’s not a bad idea.” 

“Then let's do it,” Taehyung said anxiously. “I hope she says yes.” 

“We all do,” Jimin said, grimly. “But now, we wait.” 

[doki-doki-imagines]

We all need Reo and Nagi in the form of animals-

Seishiro Nagi - Blue chow chow -You didn't expect to be woken up at 7 a.m. by a loud knocking at your door, so still grumpy you walk towards the sound to understand who dared to wake you up so early on your free day. -It is Reo, mask and gloves on and with a ball of blue fluff in his hands with his equally blue tongue sticking out. "Long story, this is Nagi, I'd take care of him but I'm allergic to dogs. Tomorrow everything should be fine-" the purple hair boy pushes the dog in your arms "take good care of him, we have a match soon" The door slammed at your face, stuck at your place with a ball of fluff in your hands. -Luckily Seishiro habits didn't change in his dog form, he slept, eat, sat on your lap, half of the morning was spent like that; rinse and repeat. -"Ohh look there is a new event! Can't wait to get the new characters." You smile at your phone. -What you didn't see was Seishiro raising his head from your lap, ears alert. -"Ehi ouch! Don't bite me- not even my hoodie, Seishiro!" He starts to pull on your clothes, your hoodie or your pants to make him follow towards…his phone in your bedroom? Did Seishiro forget it when he visited you yesterday? -"I have enough of my events I don't wanna-" He closes the door. You look down at him. "For once I'm way taller than you, you can't scare-" He barks. He dares to bark at you. He is more fur than voice and still dared to look dangerous to you. Your falls on your knees, a pain where your heart is placed; he is too cute for this world. -You end up doing his games till you pass out on the couch, being able to move just for snack and bathroom breaks was exhausting. -"(Y/n) is morning wake up, c'mon I can't reach my phone" It wasn't Seishiro's voice to wake you up, but his weight on your body, but you were too tired to pull him off even if your lungs screamed for a break. "Take your damn phone and let me sleep Seishiro" He doesn't reply, phone in his hand already checking his online ranking. "You made me lose an event" Your eyes open wide "What? I didn't even pee for your damn game-" You can't finish the phrase, his index finger pressed on your lips. "No excuses, time to be punished for your misdeeds." Your eyes would have come out in a typical cartoonish style. This egoist, always getting what he wanted, was a real villain even with fluffy blue ears on top of his cloud-white hair.

Mikage Reo - Red fox -It's Ba-ya that wakes you up, your phone loudly ringing, sun just rising. "(Y/n)-san, sorry to bother you early in the morning, but we have a problem." "A problem? Is Reo fine?" "More or less, but it's easier to explain if we came to your house, is it fine?" "No problem, see you here." -That's how you find yourself sitting on your couch with a red fox with some purple stripe resting on your lap -"Mikage corporation developed a new system so you'll understand what he is saying to you. I wouldn't have bothered, but the young master asked for your company." "Strange since yesterday he shouted at me something along the 'you are insufferable fuck off' lines" Ba-ya looks down, thinking the exact words to tell you next to sugar the pill. You scoff interrupting her train of thoughts "Don't worry, I'll take care of him". -He isn't as extrovert as usual, still knowing what happened the previous day was exaggerated, but after petting his thick fur for a while you got tired. "Wanna monetize this situation Reo?" His ears twitch, looking at you straight in the eyes. "What's your idea?" The voice is robotic and way too high, but you suppose that even Mikage corporation couldn't make a perfectly working translator. -The amount of photos you posted was disgusting but he was too cute to let this occasion go, keeping some of them for the months to come. -Reo obviously loved the idea, posing like a model, searching for the best angles that would make people scream "Cute~" all over the world. "Reo you are the cutest." "Like always, isn't it?" He says, pulling his head up, nose up in the air, you could imagine Reo would have even brushed off his hair in typical film style if he still had his hands.

-"Reo you are already a star, 16k likes in 3 hours better than when you are human." "Are you saying I'm cuter a fox?" "…" "Hey!" -Your mood improve drastically, who would have thought that your boyfriend turning into a fox was going to be this good? -You fall asleep next to each other on the sofa, his big tails tickling your chin. -"Hey, sleepy head I'm back to normal~" Your boyfriend, finally back to normal is laying on your chest, purple eyes sparkling, fox ears and tail still present, thick tail swinging back and forth. "Don't I look the best? Let's shoot some photos 'till I'm like this." He says phone already in his hand. "But later it is your turn to model for me, wanna grasp all your cuteness darling~"

[vinestaffery]

Hi, I don't request much but could you write skateboard reacting to reader coming out as non-binary, I understand if you don't want to its fine. Have a good day ^^

skateboard x non-binary reader

content: coming out; implied homophobia experiences/homophobia; comfort and acceptance; purely fluff with a side of small angst

authors note: last post for tonight!!! so sorry for this being unable to be written in so long. hope this cheers you up!!

[Y/N] paced back and forth in their room, the low hum of the ceiling fan doing little to ease their anxiety. The walls, plastered with posters of their favorite bands and vibrant artwork, seemed to close in on them. Their heart pounded, each beat echoing the countless scenarios their mind conjured. Skateboard had always been a steady presence in their life, a beacon of carefree energy and unwavering friendship. But this was different. This was revealing a part of themselves they had kept hidden for so long, a truth that lay heavy on their chest.

Memories flashed through [Y/N]'s mind like a cruel montage. They remembered the hushed whispers in the school hallways, the way eyes would linger a little too long, and the snickers that followed them whenever they tried to express themselves authentically. The worst were the snide comments, the offhand remarks that cut deeper than any physical wound.

"What even are they?" "Are they confused or just seeking attention?"

The words replayed in their mind, a relentless loop of doubt and fear.

Taking a deep breath, [Y/N] grabbed their phone and texted Skateboard. "Hey, can we talk? It's important." The response was almost immediate, typical of Skateboard's quick, effortless style. "Sure thing! Meet you at the park in 10?"

[Y/N] arrived at the park, the familiar sight of Skateboard waiting by the bench, his skateboard resting against his leg, brought a semblance of calm. His nonchalant grin and easygoing demeanor were a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within [Y/N]. They took a deep breath, steeling themselves for the conversation ahead.

"Hey, [Y/N]!" Skateboard greeted them with his usual enthusiasm. "What's up?" [Y/N] swallowed hard, their mouth suddenly dry. "Hey, Skateboard. There's something I need to tell you. It's...it's really important to me."

Skateboard's expression softened slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "Sure thing, dude. You know you can tell me anything."

As they began to speak, [Y/N] felt a surge of emotions. "I've been struggling with something for a long time. I’ve never felt comfortable with the gender I was assigned at birth. I’m non-binary. I use they/them pronouns."

The words hung in the air, heavy and liberating all at once. [Y/N] braced themselves for the response, their mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Would Skateboard laugh it off, dismiss it as a phase, or worse, distance himself from them?

But Skateboard did none of those things. Instead, he looked at [Y/N] with a mix of surprise and understanding. "Wow, [Y/N]. Thanks for telling me. That must have taken a lot of courage."

[Y/N] blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. "You...you’re okay with it?"

Skateboard shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Why wouldn’t I be? You're my friend, and I want you to be happy and comfortable. It doesn't change who you are to me."

A wave of relief washed over [Y/N], the tension that had coiled in their chest unraveling. Skateboard stepped forward, wrapping them in a tight hug. The embrace was warm, grounding, and filled with the unspoken promise of acceptance.

"You know, I used to be somewhat like that, struggling to discover myself. That was until I discovered it was the happiness I was seeking for? It was inside me. In accepting mysef, my true authentic self, I discovered happiness. I finally didn't feel alone, I acknowledged my friends that loved and accepted me for who I was as a person, not who they felt I should be. Even in uncovering my authentic self, I still felt like I was unable to be who I am. But, if you fight beside them, you can live a wonderful life where you don't need to hide. You have always been you, and no one should tell you otherwise."

"...Thanks, Skateboard,"

[Y/N] whispered, their voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Skateboard pulled back, his grin widening. "No problem at all. Now, how about we go skateboarding? I’ve been working on some new tricks I want to show you."

[Y/N] laughed, the sound lighter and freer than it had been in a long time. "I'd love that."

[eyedelater]

demon slayer notes

i started watching demon slayer, without having read the manga, at the urging of a family friend who is new to anime and insists it's extremely good. here are my thoughts on the anime and then the entire manga through to its end.

in this post, i appended followup notes to some points upon revisiting them because i had to make sure to go back and tell my past self what happened.

i watched episodes 1 through 20 without writing anything because i wasn't planning to. i watched many of those episodes on my phone, which is unusual for me, but i was traveling at the time. so i probably missed some finer visual details.

my impression of the show before i started, from having skimmed the start of its wikipedia page some months ago, was that it seemed to be relatively high quality but very formulaic Standard Shounen Fare, and it did not catch my interest. after watching 20 episodes, that opinion hasn't really changed. so many of the elements of the show are typical and just barely riff on extremely basic tropes. i'm sure there are many people who argue that demon slayer in fact drastically and ingeniously transforms those generic shounen tropes, but i'm not so sure about that. [followup note: the story does improve in terms of nuance later on, but i'm not retracting this paragraph.]

they did kind of an amazing job on the anime in terms of animation and effects. i should really rewatch those first 20 episodes on my computer screen so i can better appreciate it.

tanjirou is a very, very good boy. almost too good. where are his flaws? his internal monologues are always so apt. almost too apt. his backstory is of course compelling, but he hasn't won me over quite yet… i do like his headbutts, though… [followup note: i guess his flaw is his penchant for excessive self-sacrifice? which is one of those job interview "flaws" that is more likely to be a virtue.]

i'm looking forward to nezuko having more and more agency as the story progresses.

i'm looking forward to zenitsu learning to shut the fuck up more and more as the story progresses. i do have to give his voice actor a lot of credit for going completely all-out every time and never holding back.

i immediately love inosuke because he's a dumb bastard.

will tomioka giyuu fill the hayakawa aki-shaped hole in my heart by not being doomed? [followup note: not really. good for him not being doomed though!]

the art style is so samefacey… golden kamuy spoiled me…

the demon slayer corps seems to think it's hot shit and have many, many levels of hierarchy, but they're disorganized enough to regularly and greatly underestimate the threat of demons such that they keep sending their own fighters to their deaths. they need to work on their intelligence gathering, if nothing else.

all the hashira seem to care an awful lot about the life of the hypothetical person hypothetically killed by nezuko, but their organization is sloppy and heartless in its deploying of weak demon slayers. is this clumsy writing with plot holes, or is it a hint for the astute as to the organization's dirtiness and disorder? [followup note: i want to say it was the former or i guess neither. the master turns out to be really humble and kind to his hashiras. did he not grasp how bad a job they were doing wrt casualties?]

i like how sanemi's eyes continue to look insane even when he's calmly using polite speech

"My arms and legs are really short right now." ~zenitsu while his arms and legs are really short

i do hope boys watch this and come away with the idea that tanjirou's habit of intense and unconditional kindness is cool.

i did like when the girls told zenitsu to his face to be respectful to girls and he was humbled. [followup note: i discovered this was added into the anime and not present in the manga. good addition]

the last few seconds of the OP for the mugen train arc make it seem like rengoku is gonna die. (explicitly prepares my heart for that)

by the way, after the first season ended and we're on to the next arc, inosuke is still the best. i don't do it myself, but i enjoy watching others live life with true wild abandon. i really enjoy his kind of annoyingness more than zenitsu's.

rengoku is committed to never breaking eye contact with the camera

in ep2 of the train arc, tanjirou said "and where are you looking?!" (in japanese) to rengoku, but they translated it as "and when did you get so big?!" because i guess they felt like it would be a better visual joke because they animated rengoku really big? but they should've kept the "where are you looking?" because it's funny that tanjirou addressed what i was already thinking and had in fact written in the previous point. they did it twice in one episode too. is this going to be something we learn about rengoku? that he doesn't look at people? i thought we saw him look at people… [followup note: it's not. also the same joke was in the manga so they especially should have translated it right.]

rengoku said that black sword bearers never know which thing to master. obvious flag for "tanjiro's going to master them all of them and be the biggest baddest hashira in shounen history." too obvious (if i'm right) [i was wrong]

who's gonna tell gotouge-sensei that headbutts don't make your head bleed

prediction: kibutsuji targeted tanjirou's family because of their ancestry and some great prophecy about how that bloodline is fated to someday defeat him. he killed everyone who was home but thought that had to be all the kids because there were so many. he turned nezuko into a demon just to see what would happen and/or because he did actually remember the right number of kids and he wanted her to kill tanjirou. it may also turn out that kibutsuji was responsible for tanjirou's dad's death and/or the scars on both their heads. [followup note: i was wrong about a lot of this, but he did target them for their bloodline]

tanjirou gathered the courage to slit his own throat waaay too easily and quickly.

the netflix translator for the subs for the first few episodes (at least) of the train arc is taking far too many liberties for my liking. i wonder if the subs are different on crunchyroll, which i don't have. i should note that the first 20ish episodes i watched, i watched on a non-netflix non-crunchyroll site and i guess they were fan subs. but i didn't notice anything wrong with those subs.

"I fused my being with this entire train!" ok i've been giving this anime some shit for being predictable, but credit where credit is due, i did not expect that. that's really funny. i hate Lower One's voice btw.

i can tell that some, if not all, of the move names characters shout out are puns like the move names in one piece, but because there are no translation notes, i can't understand them :( [followup note: there aren't any in the official translation either :( and i looked up an unofficial translation and it didn't have any either :( i guess when i'm done with the manga i'll look at a wiki for the move name meanings… of course i dare not look at a wiki when spoilers are still a concern…] [followup followup: didn't care enough before posting this to look at the move name meanings]

anyone who has read my blog, you know what i'm gonna say about nipples, right? it's obvious, right? about inosuke's and others' empty chests. it's obvious. people will be like "you want explicit nipples depicted on the chests of TEEN BOYS?" no i want minimal abstract representations of nipples because everyone has them and it's normal and it's weirder to see a blank aladdin chest. this is about NIPPLE POSITIVITY. i will die on this hill time after time

if two guys are fighting a train together and they synchronize their breathing, is it gay

i liked when inosuke gently set injured tanjirou back down. character development

ok i REALLY dislike the netflix subs for these episodes. don't ADD shit. it's simple. just don't. you have to respect the author. you have to respect the author.

i prepared myself for rengoku's death. thanks for the hint, train arc OP. i see now that he was introduced to serve the purpose of character development for tanjirou.

the appeal of a stone-faced character like tomioka giyuu is twofold: a) they look cool all the time, and b) you develop a desire to see them emote.

tanjirou's gonna get yelled at for losing his sword again…

i like how akaza made it a point to beat up tanjirou's sword. to give us viewers closure as to whether tanjirou was gonna get that sword back.

i feel like i've seen an oversized amount of fanart involving rengoku, given the length of his lifespan in the show. (nothing i looked up, but just by osmosis.) is this like a portgas d. ace situation? i hate shipping ace with anyone because he's dead. or could it be that the character i've seen around was actually senjurou? doubtful

zenitsu's VA is doing a good job, like i said, but i bet zenitsu is a lot more lovable in the manga where you don't actually have to listen to him losing his shit…

i'll officially be mad if anything happens to inosuke.

uzui's three weed-smoking girlfriends…

so the boys are not even just infiltrating the houses of pleasure but they're aiming for the rank of oiran

tanjirou's bad lying face can't compete with luffy's bad lying face… sorry… [followup note: it was better in the manga]

inosuke who can get ahold of himself well enough to actually stfu and act like a girl… excellent

yeah fuck the translator for these netflix subs in the entertainment district arc too. you can't just write whatever you think would sound cool for their lines.

i have to find out the japanese for inosuke's catchphrase "comin' through" (according to this translation). wait i should just turn japanese captions on. ……there are no japanese captions… gimme a break…

they're literally in japan, literally wearing traditional japanese clothing, and they translate "obi" into "belt" instead of leaving it as is. am i overestimating how many people would know what an obi is........?

i do think it's a smart and interesting decision to explicitly section the anime into arcs instead of seasons, or rather, you could say, putting season breaks only at arc breaks. very smart.

uzui's own wife calls him tengen-sama? red flag

you know, i did have one major misconception about this story. i thought that the fact that yaiba is in the name would mean that tanjirou would inherit some particular sacred demon-obliterating blade and it would play a major part in the story (a predictable trope). but tanjirou in fact keeps destroying his swords. maybe that will actually happen later. [followup note: it didn't really. i mean tanjirou gets his one good sword later, but it's not like the sword is what wins the fight for him or anything.]

looked at tanjirou and thought "deku" tally: ||||||||||||||||||||||||

this story sure does have a lot of the protagonist's internal monologue. that's somewhat unusual for shounen, i feel like. is tanjirou just conjuring up text boxes all the time in the manga? i guess i'll have to read it after this… for completionism. [followup note: it seems the manga has an unnamed narrator who sometimes chimes in and they excluded that from the anime completely, instead relying on a combination of show-don't-tell and tanjirou narrating instead. not a bad choice.]

nezuko bit through her gag, which was really good, but she didn't immediately start talking, which is what should have happened. to remind us that she can. other demons can talk. [followup note: i see now that she is apparently left in a childlike state and has to relearn talking. ok]

(watches nezuko shrink back from grownup mode) self-infantilizing imouto…

ok, i figured out that the subs are just the lines from the dubs. that means my ire lies with whoever translated the lines for the netflix dubs. that's right, i'm not just gonna excuse it because i was mistaken about the source.

tanjirou looking at ezui and seeing rengoku's head appear next to him is 100% a death flag. his three weed-smoking wives are gonna mourn him at the end of this arc. it's gonna be the start of a pattern of tanjirou getting scarred by the loss of hashira after hashira right in front of him. [followup: glad for tanjirou that this didn't happen.]

by the way, i bet someone out there has something smart to say about uzui's three wives and what they mean for feminism. i don't care to think about it very hard though. but i know someone does.

zenitsu is conveniently asleep for a very long time in this very long battle

the budget for this anime must have been SO high. or the animators were seriously overworked. because there is so much love and so much hard work put into what seems like EVERY single shot. it's incredible. like some of these shots there's no logical need to go so hard but it's just sooo consistent that every shot has to have a life-changing amount of work put into it. i can't get over it.

(after entertainment arc ep9) i said i would be pissed if anything happened to inosuke, and i meant it. we'll see what happens from here. if inosuke dies, i'm not reading the manga. because i'm stubborn.

gyuutaro called tanjirou a bonkler…

this battle was already frustratingly long and now the defeated gyuutaro's dead defeated corpse had to release one last extremely destructive attack? according to what logic?

i like when nezuko has tanjirou on her back for once. reverse sibling onbu

this smells a lot more like hunter x hunter than hero academia or one piece. in terms of the character designs, to some degree, and everyone's penchant for talking a lot, and vibes. and i'm saying "smells" in my own way and not in a tanjirou way, okay?

they have IVs in the taisho era? with saline? i don't know anything about history.

does everyone in the sword village need the hyottoko mask? at all times?

i can tell by the OP of the sword village arc that demons will attack the sword village.

i really like the artistic choice of letting characters emote through their masks if necessary.

this son of a bitch has poison too? isn't this getting old?

i liked the little episode preview where kanroji is asked how she sheaths her sword and the answer is she simply just does. very good

of course even haganezuka turns out to be a hottie (rolls eyes emoji)

i don't want to call out gyokko here, but he could just put muichirou in the water vase again.

kibutsuji looks a lot less laughable without his stupid fucking hat.

so demons started existing because kibutsuji took weird medicine from his doctor?? [followup note: I Guess So.]

i guess i have to give gotouge-sensei credit for really sticking with the gimmick of the whole sword village wearing those masks.

i like genya.

tokitou's soft spot for tanjirou is really cute

i caught up with the anime without writing very much. i'm still blown away by the production value. speaking of blown away, i'm curious as to what happened to 2 of kagaya's 5 apparent daughters. [followup note: they really died.]

[{{{{{{{{caught up with the anime}}}}}}}}]

[{{{{{{{{comments below concern the manga}}}}}}}}]

inosuke lived, so i started reading the manga. i'm struck by the different feeling that tanjirou gives off. manga tanjirou seems a little more serious and less perky. maybe it has to do with the line delivery in the anime shaping my view of him (though the voice actor has done a great job). i did, at the beginning of the anime, get the strong early impression that tanjirou's voice was very "grown man trying hard to do a teen boy voice," and i cringed just a bit. but that feeling faded as the anime went on. i also assume the art style changes a lot as the manga progresses, such that the style resembles the anime's style more in later chapters. the anime seems to have done an amazing job of faithfully and precisely adapting the manga, at least for early chapters. i'm really jealous of the demon slayer anime on behalf of all the great mangas that got weird or lousy anime adaptations.

the babyface style of the early manga is also very strong. even giyuu looks like a little kid.

and genya's face in his first appearance is really funny. he got a glowup for the anime. whereas zenitsu looks 100% the same. i'm looking forward to inosuke's manga face.

i read a lot more of the manga without saying anything. i've gone on and on about the high quality of the anime, but i kind of feel like the manga is better. that is to say, the art feels very authentic and pure and full of love and care. manga tanjirou is just as much of a Very Good Boy as anime tanjirou, but without a certain feeling of Trying Very Hard. is it the voice?

the manga has a kind of Classic feel to it. not like it resembles any particular manga from the past, but more like, gotouge-sensei was aiming high and trying to make something evergreen. trying to forge a new classic.

and reading the manga was shocking because it's like, the anime is truly the most faithful adaptation i've ever seen. every scene feels like it's shot-for-shot-for-shot precisely what was in the manga, with every line carried over. practically nothing was left out. the spacing and timing of content was perfect; nothing was excessively crammed or stretched out. only a few things were added, like the scene with the bento sellers before the train arc (unless that came from some bonus chapter i never saw). but the additions feel normal and necessary. truly a staggeringly faithful and loving adaptation. why did they give demon slayer this exceptional treatment…? because reading the manga, it's like, this is good… but is it life-changingly good enough for them to have gone THIS all-out with the anime? i haven't decided yet. [followup note: i still haven't decided?? i might make future posts about this.]

right, demon slayer is solidly good, i would say, but on the whole, it's not quite For Me. that's because if i evaluate it by my old standby metric, the COCK test, it is decidedly NOT Completely unhinged, and there is a decided lack of Creatures. to be perfectly fair, i'm sure it Offends the church, and it does Kick ass. and really, if someone is just a bit less weirdly picky than me, this manga could change their life. but it's just not batshit insane enough to push all my buttons. i feel some hunter x hunter influence, but obviously hunter x hunter knew how to be insane enough. not that hunter x hunter does it all for me either.

it does get credit for having somewhat deeper and rounder characters than jujutsu kaisen. like at least they have an extremely strong reason to be doing what they're doing.

the manga is self-serious in a genuine way, and the anime feels self-serious in a very slightly phony way. though i don't mean they're overly self-serious. there is welcome comic relief in both. it's better in the manga but still well-translated into the anime (literal translations of the subtitles aside). and the comic relief is actually funny a lot of the time, which is more than i can say about jujutsu kaisen. this has been my obligatory shitting on jujutsu kaisen for the first time in a while. if you missed it, the story is that i gave jujutsu kaisen all the chances in the world for me to love it, but it disappointed me (and killed my favorite character for no reason).

i've been worried this whole time, not having a good sense of exactly how much chapters have been squashed or stretched, about how many chapters would remain after i caught up with the story as far as the anime went. but now i'm just about at the end of the hashira training arc (mansion just blew up) and there are still about 60 chapters left. that's sooo many. i was worried there wouldn't be much story left, but there is! that's good, because there's a lot left to explain.

i have noticed exactly what has been added to the anime adaptation. pretty much everything added was smart and suitable. although the extremely long approach of kibutsuji to kagaya's bedside was i think not so necessary. but yeah, fleshing out the training in the hashira arc a bit, going into slightly more detail on people's backstories, adding a few more character building moments, none of it feels irritating in any way. but if it turns out they added any zenitsu whining moments, that's unforgivable. there are already enough of those.

i bet huge inosuke fans were a little irritated at the casting of his voice. a true ruffian's voice that clashes to the extreme with his pretty face. i think it's pretty apt though. maybe a little too large-adult-sounding. but teenage boys are like that.

i've been reading an unofficial manga translation, not sure who it's by, and it's interesting to note which phrases were left untranslated in this compared to in the official translation. in this unofficial TL, why is oyakata-sama left as such instead of translating it to "master" when it's just a title that plainly means "master?" and in the netflix subs/dubs, why are hashira and hinokami kagura left untranslated? and yet both translated "obi" as either "belt" or "sash" when i think it could have safely been left as is. and why was "nichirin sword" left untranslated in both when you could just call it a sun blade or sun sword? is it because nichirin sounds too cool and japanese?

oh yeah, i kept thinking but kept forgetting to write: it's well known that demons are always eating humans, but we don't see them in the actual act of eating people very often at all. it seems they often like to just kill people, like weasels kill hens. for fun. but we have seem douma in the act of eating people note once but twice.

the unifying backstory of Everyone's family being killed by demons is getting a little old…

ok i remembered one bad thing the anime did. giving us that whole ridiculous nezuko montage when she was exposed to the sun and we thought she was gonna get obliterated. that was reeeally pushing it. trying that hard to fool us is just embarrassing for you.

so ubuyashiki kagaya became a father at the age of 15. no, younger, because kiriya has two (twin?) elder sisters. at least 14.

the two ubuyashiki girls did die… that's not cool… don't use them just to confuse kibutsuji…

zenitsu leveled up? zenitsu can work while awake now? maybe he'll also shut the fuck up?

…

i ended up staying up very, very late and read many dozens of chapters in one night and finished demon slayer. not the best circumstances for properly absorbing the story, but i did it anyway.

i was not prepared for genya to die and i think that should not have happened. we needed to see more of him and his future. i'll say it: it should have been sanemi instead. justice for genya.

i don't think that many hashiras needed to die… especially tokitou-kun didn't need to die so horribly... and i certainly didn't expect sanemi to be one of only 2 hashira survivors.

i guess we're just lucky that inosuke and zenitsu got away with all their limbs intact. limbs were dropping like flies for a while there.

i was satisfied with the reveal of the backstory about the tsugikuni brothers and how yoriichi entrusted his earrings and stuff to tanjirou's ancestral family.

i thought the final reveal that yoriichi's 13th move was all the other moves strung together didn't have an amazing payout in the end… did it? did i miss something big?

there was the Explicit mention, in dialogue, that kanroji and iguro and others may reincarnate happily. i wish gotouge-sensei would have allowed that to happen in the audience's imagination instead of having a timeskip chapter that shows everyone's descendants and reincarnations. it wasn't unbearable, but i didn't like it. also inosuke's descendant didn't go hog wild at all.

after reading the whole manga and no longer fearing spoilers, i finally looked up inosuke's catchphrase. i was very pleased to find out that it is chototsumoushin 猪突猛進, which is an existing four-character compound that includes the kanji for boar and means rushing recklessly (as a boar does). i knew there would be some degree of untranslatable nuance in there! the nuance is that that phrase definitely describes an undesirable act, but inosuke yells it with glee while rushing in recklessly, and that is perfect. it's like yelling "BULL IN A CHINA SHOP!" in the anime, one subtitle translation was "COMIN' THROUGH!" which is a little lifeless and completely missing any boar energy. my favorite translation is "BOAR RUSH!" because it carries the boar energy and makes it seem like he's shouting a move name when he's really just barreling around the hallway. i don't remember if i saw that one in the netflix translation or if it was a fansub. one more version i saw, in an unofficial manga translation, was "pig assault." that one's not a winner. it isn't even the kanji for pig; it's the kanji for boar. also if i had been watching the anime with earbuds it's entirely possible i would have been able to discern what inosuke was saying from the beginning, because i went back and he says it quite clearly, but that doesn't matter now.

i feel a little weird about making a whole long post about something i don't have crazy strong feelings about, but i wrote all this out, so... read my important opinions... sorry for saying "i guess" so much and using so many ellipses...

overall, i wish the ending was less bittersweet (i hate character death, as always) and dislike the timeskip chapter, but i still rate demon slayer (the story itself) as GOOD. that means it is worth watching and reading. there are several slots above GOOD on my personal rating scale, but GOOD isn't bad. it's GOOD. and that's what demon slayer is. someday i will probably rewatch and/or reread, and i'll keep up with the next anime season.

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: blind best friends, angst, alcohol intake, Japanese folklore. | Word count: 3.3k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

I had been sick for the past three days, with fevers coming and going and coughing up flowers that had me not just confused, but considering the idea that I was definitely going mad. I had only told someone about it, and that was obviously Lia. However, I hadn’t been able to let her know until she stopped by for longer than thirty minutes.

She had officialy started dating Mitch and I was barely able to see her.

When she sat down on the kitchen isle and started researching my symptoms on her phone, she didn’t find anything that wasn’t just speculation. She suggested on calling my doctor or taking me to the hospital, but I dismissed the options, asserting that I was starting to feel a bit better.

And it was true. The time she spent with me that day made my health improve. She’d busied herself preparing me herbal teas and soothing down my fever with whatever we had in the house.

Aside from her care, things were different. She was in a relationship now, and for some reason, I felt there was a bridge growing between us. She avoided getting as close to me as she did before, and the way we used to hold each other’s gazes became null, for she would drop her eyes every time I caught her staring at me.

We had said that whatever we did, whatever relationship we got into, it wouldn’t affect our friendship, but there we were, drifting apart even while her hand was on my forehead, checking my temperature.

The day after her last visit, I felt pissed.

I went to the studio we had rented downtown to continue working on the new record. Lia wouldn’t be there that day. She was busy in a meeting a few hours from Los Angeles. Lia and I had had dinner and she had left right after, but that morning, I checked my phone expecting a message from her, letting me know that she was on her way to the meeting or that she had reached. There was nothing. Her absence and the fact that Mitch probably knew more about her whereabouts than I did put me on a foul mood.

I slumped in a chair, and my fingers immediately started tapping on the armrest as I listened to Matt talk. After ten minutes, I was sure the guys could feel the tension I have brought with me permeating the air in the studio. When Matt said something that I didn’t agree with, I replied to him in a tone that was not typical of me. Jolly and Folio exchanged uneasy glances, but I ignored them by moving to the next room.

Nicholas was the one to follow. When I crossed looks with him, there was concern etched across his face. I couldn’t avoid the inevitable question just the same I couldn’t avoid feeling like this.

“Noah, you okay?” He inquired, placing his coffee on the desk.

“Yeah,” I lied.

“Is this about the coughing? Has it wors—?”

“No, nothing to do with that,” I replied, pulling my phone from my pocket, checking once again for a message from Lia. Nothing. I returned the phone to my pocket. Nicholas still studied me intently. “I mean, I’m okay. If my voice doesn’t work, then fuck it. We’ll wait another week.”

“That’s not very typical of you,” he murmured, eyeing me suspiciously. No, it wasn’t. Breaking the planned schedule wasn’t my style, but I was also not known for being someone impatient. “But yeah, if you’re not feeling well, you should rest and let your voice get back to normal. We’re in no rush.”

“I am,” I responded, determined and frustrated. I was in a rush.  

“You know things won’t work out if you force them to happen.”

I needed to distract myself, to escape my thoughts. It was the reason I’d dragged myself out of bed and driven to the studio that day instead of calling Matt to say I was sick.  

“Oh, yeah, thanks for the great advice, man.”

I couldn’t handle it. I was irritable.

“What’s wrong with you, Noah?” Nicholas asked, irritation creeping up to him and into his voice, too. “Why are you so pissed?”

“Well, I think I have an idea why that is.” Jolly retorted, entering the room. He had overheard everything. Not that I’d done any effort to keep my voice down. He adjusted his guitar, ignoring the volatile energy around me.

I scowled; my jaw clenched as I glared at him.

Matt attempted to lighten the mood, sending only a sideways look my way as he joined us. “Come on. We’re all feeling the pressure here. Why don’t we just channel that into the music, yeah?”

I sighed, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I wasn’t sure I could give my best, given that I had spent the last two days coughing, but I was there for a reason, and I planned on making the most of it. “Fine,” I mumbled. I set my phone facing down next to Nicholas’ coffee. “Let’s get to it.”

Mitch was the first guy that Lia ever called “her boyfriend”, and the name nagged at me. Every other guy that had come across her way had been a flirt, a one-night stand, or a two-week fling. She never really felt anything too special for them, and she had always prioritized me before them.

With Mitch, it was different.

It had been two months. She was overly ecstatic. The first few weeks I had a feeling that Lia might enlighten Mitch with all the things that had happened in her life, maybe including the fact that I had been her first kiss. What little I knew about Mitch was that he could be very persuasive when it came to getting what he wanted, and I had never seen anyone so fixated on Lia as he was. Lia wasn’t one to open that easily, but it was the first time she was like this, so entranced with a guy, and I had my doubts at how much she would retain. She was always very careful about what information she would give away. Sharing with people facts about her childhood and her mother was something that she didn’t find comfort in, and every time someone asked how the two of us met, it was a common understanding that we would give a simple answer and diverge the topic. I didn’t know now if Mitch had any idea about her past, about where she came from and the things that her mother did —or didn’t do— to her.  

Maybe I was being too overprotective. Lia had already told me a few times that I was, but so was she, always disliking the girls I went out with and playing pranks to get them to leave the house the next morning in a rush, as if they had learnt something scary about me, whatever it was. Lia was getting really good at making shit up. We had actually had an argument a month before she met Mitch because she introduced herself as my fucking wife to the girl I had just slept with, mentioning the tattoo of her name I had in my neck. Lia pretended to be super angry at finding another woman in my bed. The poor girl thought I had cheated on Lia and left with her heels on her hands, screaming.

When Saturday came, I was expecting Nicholas to come over after lunch so that we could spend the evening playing videogames, but I received an unexpected visit in the middle of the afternoon which caused me a mix of happiness and unease.  

Lia threw her arms around my neck, exclaiming a very elated “hi” in my ear. It felt nice to have her in my arms again, but my tight grip loosened as soon as I spotted Mitch coming from behind. His car was parked in the driveway, next to mine. I could tell he was not very pleased with Lia’s affection toward me. I understood his perspective, though. His girlfriend had a best friend, another male, and she had a history with him, a life, if you’d call it. We had grown together, lived together, and slept together in the same bed countless of times. I wasn’t sure how much Mitch knew about our friendship, but it was enough to send him over the edge sometimes. He had already made a couple of comments about people mistaking her for my girlfriend instead of his, and he’d made it clear that he didn’t like it.

All I could think of was fuck you, dude. 

In a matter of thirty minutes, the house was full of people.

Jolly had a delivery coming up, new furniture for his room, and he had called some guy from IKEA to set it up because for the love of God he was awful at it and didn’t want us to help. Last time we set up his bed, he found two screws on the floor after a month and he was so scared that the bed would crumble at some point during the night that he unmounted everything and had a specialist come in. We thought we could entertain ourselves with videogames while the job was getting done on the other room, but with Lia and Mitch in the house, and Mike who came later with his girlfriend, the evening turned into an unexpected small event.

Beers were served, food was taken out. Before we realized it, we found ourselves sharing drinks with the folks from IKEA. Despite not lingering for long, they managed to enjoy a free beer and indulge in a plethora of snacks, enough to satiate their hunger well into the next day.

Jolly was just farewelling them from the door when my gaze diverted to the sofa, where Nicholas was playing videogames, and I spotted Lia in the corner, in the furthest area of the sofa, sat on Mitch’s lap, her mouth on his, his hand on her ass.

“Noah.”

“What?”

I turned around. I was standing by the kitchen isle, my hands gripping the edge of the counter. My knuckles had gone white. Mike’s girlfriend was looking at me with a friendly smile.

“I said ‘do you want another beer?’” She offered nicely.  

“Yes, sure,” I gave her a smile and accepted the beer she handed me.

Taking the first sip, I casually turned away from the group of guys gathered in the kitchen. Just as Mike, his girlfriend, and Jolly delved into what appeared to be an intriguing conversation, I made my escape.

Securing myself in the studio, I powered up the monitor, launching X and reviewing the latest piece I had been working on. Less than ten minutes later, a knock echoed on the door, and I knew it was Lia, evident from the gentle taps and the intervals between each.

She peeked through the door and smiled widely when she saw me.

“Hey, I noticed you slipping away from there,” she said.

She did? She had looked pretty busy to me.

She made her way in, leaving the door slightly ajar. The studio bathed in a soft, comforting light. Despite the noise coming from the living room, this was my sanctuary. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood for a party,” I admitted. “But I’m glad you came by,” I reassured her after I saw her features fall. Turning the chair, I faced her until I had her at arm’s reach. “How was the trip?”

She had been gone all weekend. Mitch had surprised her with some getaway weekend in Las Vegas, and I didn’t hear from her since the day before she left.

“Good. A bit rushed, though,” she replied, her attention shifting to a new book I had bought recently and that sitting atop a pile of other that I had pending to read. It felt to me that she wasn’t much eager to talk about the trip. “We did some sightseeing and I managed to drag Mitch out of the casinos and go visit the Neon Museum, it was super interesting. You would have loved it.”

Her smile could’ve lighted up the whole room if it wasn’t for the tinge of melancholy I saw in her eyes.

“I’ll make sure to check it out next time we’re in Las Vegas for a show,” I promised. “Did you do get time to go see the Antelope Canyon?”

“I wish! But Mitch isn’t much into walking.”

Too bad. Lia loved hiking. Two years ago, we had gone trekking to Yellowstone and had spent the night in the campsite, playing guitar and singing songs under the moonlight. I couldn’t imagine what fun she had found in Las Vegas if most of their time had been spent in the casinos.

“What does he like, anyway?” The question slipped out involuntarily from my lips.  

Lia narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at me.

“I’m serious,” I quickly interjected, refusing to let guilt take over me. “I know he’s cool and he’s into music and all that, but what did you see in him?”

“Noah, let’s not go there again,” she said, weariness evident in her tone. She allowed herself to sink into she sofa, her eyes pleading and a faint smile on her lips. “I don't know what you have suddenly got against him. I’m happy, isn’t that enough?”

I sighed.

“Yeah, it is.”

I guess, I thought.

“But if it makes you feel any better,” she continued, straightening herself, “he takes good care of me, he makes me laugh and he makes me feel important.”

“He better do that, otherwise I will kick his ass.”

“I do not want to see that happening,” she affirmed.

A laugh escaped me, releasing some of the tension. After a moment of quiet, another question slipped from my lips.

“Does he know about your relationship with your mother?”

Lia’s demeanor shifted, a familiar guardedness that used to settle in whenever her mother was mentioned.

“He knows she didn’t care much about me. I didn’t go into detail because I don’t find it necessary.” She stood up. Her expression changed and I knew she was about to shift the topic. She approached me and grabbed a strand of my hair. “Your hair has grown so much. It’s longer than mine now.”

Good way to steer the conversation, Lia. 

“I’m thinking of cutting it.”

“Why?”

“I’m just tired of it. It gets so inconvenient sometimes.”

“I can braid it, if you want,” she offered, tilting her head a bit.

“No, thanks,” I replied, my words accompanied by a dismissive pff sound and a displeased look.

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy,” she teased, letting go of my hair. “How’s the coughing?”

“Coming and going,” I replied, not giving it too much importance. I was sick of it, of not understanding it. I had called grandma a few weeks ago and she told me something related to fairytales and love stories. I didn’t need any of it. I needed a cure before it got worse. “I was pretty fucked up a couple of days ago. But today, alas, I woke up just fine.”

“I’m tired of telling you to go see a doctor,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“This has nothing to do with doctors, Lia. If I tell them what’s happening, they’ll either lock me up in the psych ward or treat me like a test specimen.”

“I know, but there must be a solution. What if it gets worse?”

I shrugged.

“Grandma said the solution is that you stay by my side, and everything will be fine.”

“Oh, how convenient for you.”

Despite what she thought, I wasn’t joking. I said that casually, but I was still grappling with whatever grandma had meant when she involved Lia in this strange sickness.

“Not interested in playing nurse for a while?”

“I had my fill of looking after you, Jolly, and Jesse when all three of you caught the flu three Christmases ago.”

That had been a crazy Christmas. All three of us laying in bed and Lia going from one room to another checking our temperature and making sure we were eating properly, and in the meantime, she’d kept on working, designing stuff for the merch drop we had planned for the beginning of the new year while trying not to get sick all at the same time.  She was unbelievable.

“Oh, by the way. I wrote something while I was away,” she suddenly remembered. She took out a sheet of notebook from the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to me. “Will you check it out and let me know what you think?”

It was a song. She had written a song while out on a road trip with her boyfriend.

“Of course.”

“Not now, though. Maybe when there’s less chaos in the house.”

I nodded, a little smile playing at my lips, eager for everyone to leave and night to come so that I could lock retreat to my room, MacBook at myside, and Lia’s handwritten lyrics in my hands.

I saved the paper in the pocket of my sweatpants.

 When my phone buzzed, I glanced at it briefly before deciding to ignore it.

“Are you not gonna reply?” She asked, curiosity evident in her tone.  

“Nope.”

“What if it’s someone important?” She inquired, moving some hair away from her face.

There was a hint of something in her voice, as if she wanted me to answer that there wasn’t anybody.

I made a clicking sound with my tongue, swaying in the chair.  

“It’s not.”

“Come on,” she oddly insisted. “Are you not gonna tell me? Are you seeing someone?”

“Lia, last time I brought a girl home, she ran away before I could get her naked because someone told her I had herpes while I was in Jolly’s room looking for condoms, and because of you I was left with a boner that I had to tend by myself.”

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles.

The sound didn’t last long, though. The door opened promptly, and Mitch appeared from the well-lit hallway, his smile growing wider as he caught sight of Lia.  

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes.”

The house is not that fucking big, I thought.

“Hey,” Lia greeted him, reaching out to touch his arm affectionately.

“What’s so funny?” He queried.

“Nothing,” Lia replied, shaking her head and trying to compose herself.

“Well,” Mitch draped an arm around her, “I think we should go. It’s getting late, and I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Sure,” she agreed, her words being swallowed by Mitch, who leaned in until his mouth met hers.

My eyes lingered on the scene for a moment before I looked away, but not soon enough to miss Lia’s hand pressing against his chest and her nervous, uncomfortable laughter.

“Let’s get out of here,” she mumbled. “Can you grab my jacket and bag from the entry? I’ll meet you there in a minute?” She playfully slapped his ass, urging him out.

I pretended to be busy again with the computer during their interaction, but the truth was that I couldn’t focus my eyes on anything on the screen.

“In a minute,” he repeated, his voice demanding and stern. It was a good thing I didn’t see how he looked at Lia and how he pointed a finger at her; otherwise, I’d have told him to shove his demands up his ass.

With him gone, Lia turned to me, her hand briefly resting on my hair as she bid me farewell. She leaned in to peck my cheek and requested to text her whenever I finished checking her song.

“And don’t work too hard!” She shouted from the hallway, her voice fading away.

“Yes, ma’am!” I called back.

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

hi kane !! if u were in charge of writing the story for a cars 4 movie, what would u want it to be about ? 🤔 (@dmclr)

Ouughh. Ohhmgugish. I don't know why I'm like all "you're asking ME??🤧"

GENIUNELY NO ONE IS OBLIGATED TO READ THIS. I know the whole "I yap a lot" thing sometimes but this is geniunely like a rediculous length. I mean no one is obligated to read any of my posts but yknow.

I need like two read more bars for this post yall. I don't know why I'm yapping so much. In case it wasn't clear I had a lot to say here and thank you for asking me this(<- more thankfulness filled than I can properly express at the moment, so sorry). I didn't proof-read much of this I'm so sorry if it's like incoherent and has the punctuation of the "I'm eating, Grandma" vs "I'm eating Grandma" grammar tool.

Okay I'm like. Blaming the fact I messed up my sleep schedule and it's 11:27pm and I just woke up like an hour and a half ago and I side-tracked myself like absolutely crazy but keep side-tracking myself into different rants or tangents so it is just a forever increasing ramble, but TL;DR, I actually prefer media that is dead or left alone because I get so anxious when new stuff comes out cause I'm afraid of what they'll do to my faves or if they'll butcher them or add slap-stick love interests, etc., and when Cars on the Road came out(idk how aware people are that it exists), I spent the whole first watch through not really enjoying and savoring it cause I was so anxious over what was gonna happen that I spent the whole time making sure it was 'safe' and I wasn't going to have a pit in my stomach. Which, it turned out lovely and I actually have some things from it that I super love and adore, but I have actually unironically predicted my F/Os so strongly(among other listful factors) that I'd rather them finally put it to rest before it starts getting into beating a dead horse territory, cause I don't know if there's really much of anything left for them to expand on anyway.

My serious answer?: I'm not entirely sure, but I would enjoy seeing them just expand on some more smaller stuff, and I'd like it better if they didn't try to do 'revivals' of characters from past movies(ily Chick but Cars 3 was a bitttt of some injustice to you), I know they're supposed to be more action-y movies but I love slice of life stuff and I'd totally just watch an hour and forty minutes of Lightning just like playing around Radiator Springs or something(every Cars game ever). Though my ultimate ideal scenario is just none at all.

My slightly less serious answer that probabblyyy isn't gonna happen but the odds are never zero(he says humorously)?: They should spend the whole time doing documentary style movie about how it would've gone if I was in the previous movies +sketches/storyboards or reanimated scenes of small moments but I'm thrown in there. ALL IM SAYING IS Cars 2 would've been SO funny if I was in it okay. Would've been exhausted running around the entirety of Europe(+like US and Japan for a moment) nearly the entire time and someone watching would've been sick to their stomach cause the movie WOULD CONCLUDE with it all ending via the power love, and I'm not sorry. Would've had my 'Mary Sue' moment of like nearly every major(and some minor) cast role having SOME sort of feelings for me, most typically romantic. And it being reciprocated. You want an action movie?? There, now tell me THAT ain't action-packed. I refuse to believe the outcome of anything would be predictable. Every last interaction is gonna leave the viewers asking "what the HELL is going on and what will happen next". Pixar(and Disney) I am right here but it's okay if ur busy cause I'm busy too.

The stuff under the cut is basically the same thing I said here(mostly focused on my 'serious' answer bit), but veryy elaborated upon, so it's fairly lengthy. PUTTING MY PHONE DOWN AND HITTING POST NOW BEFORE I SOMEHOW ADD MORE. BUT THANK YOU THNAK YOU FOR ASKING THIS I DIDNT THINK I WOULD WRITE AN ACTUAL ESSAY I AM SO SORRY.

I don't know how much I really mention this, cause I think it a lot but I don't wanna like drive my blog viewers nuts if I say it so much over and over again, but I get like so anxious over whenever knew stuff or content of my F/Os come out believe it or not! There was only like.. one or two medias in the past where I was actually like.. excited whenever the person posted new stuff! Somehow I've had the luck of most things that I F/O from are dead upload-wise. I get so anxious that it'll go down hill(especially if the media has been going on for a while now, which.. Cars starting in 2006 I'd count that) cause I've watched some shows just go downhill or randomly butcher characters or add slap-stick romantic interests that it just makes me far too anxious!! Honestly, I thought Cars WAS finished and through with, but for whatever reason there was the release of Cars on the Road(don't know how many people know of that) and DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVED IT and I still do and think about it fairly often, I actually really really love and adore some of the qualities they expanded on with Mater and Lightning but that's a whole thing for another time probably-, but what I didn't enjoy was being so anxious over it that when it came out I practically spent my whole first watch through making sure that it was 'safe' and something wasn't going to happen that makes me feel like I swallowed a rock and my stomach sinks. Which thankfully didn't happen at all, I loved how it turned out and still rewatch it occasionally, I think they nailed it, but I didn't like the so nervous experience I had in the first place😅

I've heard some people talk about someone who did an interview with someone who supposedly works on the Cars stuff about how they still had stuff in mind they wanted to do with the characters, I'm HOPING I don't somehow jinx myself wildly but honestly I'd muchhh rather prefer it just gets dropped and they let Cars just be what it is for now. Sometimes I question if they just do this stuff because they milk a crazy amount of money out of how well the diecasts sell, which is why they have so many one-off diecasts like the off-roading ones or the glow in the dark ones, or just random sorts of themes. Which, entire tangent for another day, can't BELIEVE they put Jackson anywhere CLOSE do a dirt racing series even if it was just the diecast. But anyway.

TO ACTUALLY ANSWER YOU QUESTION... I'm not super sure!!! I've heard some people talk about seeing more stuff about how Cruz and Lightning race together would be interesting, I think I'd prefer something like that as opposed to a revisit of characters from previous movies or such(ily Chick but they tampered your voice in Cars 3 and I'd argue your personality a bit as well), truthfully I'm not super sure, I've never thought about it so much before!! They should include me in the movie(/hj). Truthfully, normally each movie has been sort of centered around Lightning having some sort of character development arc he has to go through, I'm not sure what else he could be put through! Don't get me wrong, he's absolutely not a perfect character, which is what makes characters so enjoyable in the first place, but he doesn't have as big of a staple thing to go through like he did in the first movie where he was a "I can do it all by myself" i-use-my-ego-to-hide-my-feelings rookie. I don't entirely like how the third movie took it truthfully, with the whole "McQueen is getting older..😢😥..how will he still race?!" Cause like one of the staple differences between F1 and NASCAR is that so many NASCAR racers(especially if they made it good) stay racing until they are like in their 60s+ or their hairs are graying(which, arguably could happen whenever but for the sake of my point, stereotypical age-related graying). And Lightning is like in his mid-30s in the third movie at the LATEST. So I don't know what any of that was about. I know there was the whole new gen of racers thing but he honestly wasn't doing too bad keeping up with them until things got into his head and he freaked himself out(on top of the crash, and the like. Literal depression he falls in to). And then there's the whole thing of he actually had it in him the win the last race in the movie at the Flordia 500 blah blah blah but he wanted to switch out with Cruz so she could have her moment, which, I'm not entirely ecstatic over how they paced Cruz's development, I wish they let it marinate a bit more but I get they had crunch-time in the movie.

[shreyamistry]

“why are you crying?” + “who cares what they think?” for michael x m!mc ❤️❤️

Pairing: Michael x M!MC

Prompt: “Why are you crying?” + “Who cares what they think?”

Word Count: 2100+

Summary: Running late from a play rehearsal, Michael finds Axel crying alone in the auditorium. The boys have to figure out what comes next for themselves and their relationship with each other.

A/N: Requests are open if you’re interested, find my prompts and rules here!!

Thank you for reading! I hope you like it!

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Michael leans against his locker, his solid form pressed against the cool metal of the locker as he glances at his phone expecting a text from Axel. Typically when running late from cheer or drama Axel is instantly sending out a text on their post school night dates, he’s never forgotten to send a text before now. He frowns, seeing no indication of a message, he glances around the hallways that once bustle with life now decorated with loneliness. He breathes out heavily, shoving his phone into his pocket to go check the auditorium for his boyfriend.

He thinks they might still be rehearsing and lost track of time, he wonders if he’ll see Axel wearing another stupid looking costume that only he could make work. He chuckles to himself remembering the George Washington style white wig and outfit in complete disarray that he found Axel wearing trying to rub an intense amount of powder off his face. He pulls open the auditorium doors calling out for Axel getting no response.

His footsteps are loud as he crosses the auditorium stage, nearly echoing with each movement. He scans around for any sign of Axel in the soft darkness with most of the stage lights being out it’s hard to see clearly. He knows Axel should be here, he was meant to be rehearsing a few scenes with Rory and their other co-lead. He frowns to himself again, starting to worry about what might’ve happened to Axel.

As he pulls out his phone to call Axel, he hears a soft sniffling sound from around the corner at the back of the stage. Michael raises an eyebrow as he edges closer to the noise hoping not to startle whoever’s there and invade their privacy, he might be arrogant but he’s not an asshole. Normally, Michael wouldn’t care about some random dude crying in an auditorium. This would be more of Axel’s scope of knowledge, but on the off chance it was Axel, he didn’t want to regret walking away leaving his boyfriend to cry by himself.

Coming around the corner he finds Axel with his knees pulled to his chest, tears leaking down his cheeks, trying his hardest not to sniffle loudly. His face angled in a way to try and hide the fact he was crying. Michael’s heart shatters in his chest, not missing a single beat as he rushes forward pressing a hand to Axel’s back to comfort him. His movements deliberately as comforting as possible.

“Sunshine, it’s okay. I’m here.” His voice soothing as he runs his hand up and down his red and white Berry High Senior Year t-shirt that Axel wore. The fabric is soft to the touch;the two of them have matching shirts thanks to Mr LaHart, Axel’s dad, who bought them the t-shirts. Michael always thought Axel wore it better. Both boys now in their senior year of high school, their entire future staring down at them. “Shhh. You’re okay.”

Michael’s other arm wraps around Axel’s body, who clings to his arm as though it would save him from being drowned. Michael chuckles to himself, thinking about Axel being the cutest man alive even when absolutely gutted. He can’t help himself from whispering sweet nothing to Axel, trying to do anything with his limited knowledge of comforting others to comfort his one true love.

He wonders what went wrong, surely it must be about the play? He didn’t realize that the plays meant so much to Axel, he thought he cared more about his cheer team. Cheer co-captain with Sydney now that Mia graduated, he should be ecstatic especially with college scouts seeing his prowess on the field and in the classroom. He’s had different schools approach him and Sydney to ask about their future and their history practicing the sport of cheerleading. Michael can’t deny how much he loves seeing Axel perform especially in their uniform.

Michael places warm kisses to the side of Axel’s face that isn’t buried into the fabric of Michael’s green sweater that he gave him. ‘Gave to him’ being a stretch considering that Michael lent it to him once and now Axel refuses to give it back to him, whether or not he drowned in the fabric or not, Axel didn’t care. He always claimed it smelled like Michael and it helps him relax when he’s overstimulated or overwhelmed with life. He can just breathe and remember that he has Michael and it brings him peace.

Michael adores being able to be there for Axel like that, he often found himself incredibly worried he wasn’t good enough for Axel; disappointing people still happened to be his biggest fear all this time later. Axel never lets him think that though, any doubt that crosses Michael’s mind is quickly whisked away by Axel’s comforting and loving words to remind him how much he loves him. Michael knows it’s his turn to return the favor.

“Why are you crying?” Michael whispers against Axel’s skins, his warm lips kissing away the tears that burned his lover's handsomely gentle features. He draws Axel deeper into his arms, watching as the cheerleader sobs louder clinging tightly onto Michael’s dark gray t-shirt, his face burying itself into the warm crook of Michael’s neck. “It’s okay, you’re okay, shhh.”

Michael’s heart aches in his chest. He wants to take away all the pain Axel has ever felt or ever will feel, he wants to protect him from the world and then some. If anyone makes him cry, Michael will ruin their entire life and give them a black eye, he doesn’t care who. Seeing Axel cry this hard made him want to die.

Minutes pass by with Axel sobbing into Michael’s arms still, before he finally starts to relax. His throat raw and hoarse from crying, as he hides himself away from the world still buried in Michael’s comforting embrace. Michael’s hands soothingly rub his boyfriend’s back, coaxing Axel into relaxing and to not cry himself into pure exhaustion. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he turns to look at Michael’s face, cupping his cheeks. Gray eyes stare intently at Axel, full of love and admiration for the cheerleader.

“You’re not going to break up with me right?” Axel whimpers, sniffling loudly.

“What?” Michael gasps, nearly angry trying to stop himself from making a face. “Who the fuck told you that? I’d never consider it. Ever. Seriously.”

Michael pulls Axel protectively into his lap, his hands resting Axel’s waist tightening his hold on the cheerleader who grips Michael’s shoulders with his own hands holding him fiercely.

“I know, I know,” Axel whines, “I’m sorry. I’m overthinking. I just feel really lost lately, my love.”

“I already told you, long distance or not, we’re not breaking up Axel. You’re my entire world and then some.” Michael comforts him, the hands on his waist move comfortingly up and down his lower to mid back. “You’re my sunshine forever.”

Axel giggles sweetly between his sniffles. “God, I just- ugh. It’s something Rory said about Skye and Esme during rehearsal. She didn’t know if they’d survive graduating high school like you and I are. And then Danielle, ugh she’s driving me insane.”

“Who cares what they think?” Michael murmurs softly.

“I don’t, I really don’t.” Axel reassures quickly, he draws in a long breath wiping the back of his hand against his nose. He brushes away the remaining tears on his face, breathing out a relaxing breath before talking again. “Skye and Bailey are perfect for each other, you know? They remind me of us in a way. And then hearing Rory say that and then Danielle having to add her two cents into everything like we’re supposed to care.”

Michael laughs at the annoyed sigh that leaves Axel’s lips. “Sorry,” he instantly adds after seeing the death glare that Axel shot at him, the corner of his lips struggling to stop himself from laughing at his boyfriend’s adorable display.

“Ugh,” Axel feigns annoyance, “Anyways, remember how I told you I applied at University of Cedar Cove,” Axel asks, continuing once Michael nods in response, “they accepted me. Which, it’s fine. Whatever. I wanted to go there so we’d still be together not because they were that great. But Cornell accepted me, they want me on their athletics team full scholarship Michael.”

“That’s fucking amazing, Axel.” Michael grins, pulling back to look him in the eyes, his hand moving to cup Axel’s cheeks still wet with tears that poured out of them moments ago. “I’m so proud of you.”

Michael peppers Axel’s face in sweet kisses, from his nose, his lips, his cheeks, even his eyelids. Axel giggles loudly pushing on Michael’s chest in a mock display to get him to stop. Michael doesn’t, tightening his grip around Axel’s waist holding him close to his body kissing him instantly on the lips.

“So.” Kiss. “Proud.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “You.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs as Michael stops, Axel’s hands still tightly holding the fabric of Michael’s t-shirt. He sniffles again, letting his head fall to the side looking into Michael’s warm and comforting gray eyes, trying to hide the sad smile. “But it’s… it’s really far away.”

“So?” Michael shrugs taking in Axel’s dreamy features, he too hides his own sad smile. The thought of being so far away kills Michael inside, but he wants more than anything for Axel to follow his dreams, “it was one of your dream schools. You’re going. You’ll learn and you’re going to put on that cheer uniform, do some wild looking dances and look hot as fuck.”

“Shut up,” Axel laughs sweetly his thumbs stroking Michael’s features, “it’s in New York. That’s like 3000 miles away, Mr. Harrison. I can’t handle being away from you… let alone my dad.”

“Oh.” Michael whispers.

Axel nods, unable to fight back his sad smile. Michael tries to ignore it, his brain in mental turmoil, this wasn’t their first time talking about the future but then it felt so far away. Even the beginning of the year it felt like it was years away, now one month away from graduation they can’t deny how quickly and overwhelming it felt.

“So what?” Michael shrugs despite his mental, “You’ll come home for breaks and I can come visit you. We’ll figure it out. Same for your dad.”

“I know we will,” Axel sighs, “I want to tell them no.”

“No.” Michael quickly interjects. “You’re not allowed to tell them no.”

“Since when do you-“

“Since now.” Michael laughs, “You’re not telling them no. Your dad and I will manage without you, and he’d beat himself up if you gave up your dreams for him.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Michael.”

“Axel.”

Axel shakes his head despite himself, he’s laughing as he pushes himself up out of Michael’s lap reaching out for Michael’s hands. Michael takes them instantly letting himself be pulled to his feet. Axel leads Michael to the middle of the stage, Michael’s eyes looking around the stage and sets with new found wonder. He arches his eyebrow, turning back to Axel.

“Do you really think we’ll be together forever?” Axel asks softly.

“Fuck yeah.” Michael laughs, earning himself a laugh from Axel as well whose face flushes red. He ducks his head down to hide his smile. “I mean it.”

“You promise? Forever and even then some?”

“I promise.” Michael answers, he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small green band with a silver outline. “Look.”

“It’s pretty.” Axel smiles, turning it over in his fingers. “I didn’t know you wore rings.”

“I don’t,” Michael laughs, “that’s for you. A promise ring. I got it out of a stupid ass gashapon at Morgan’s job.”

“Big spender.” Axel teases as he slides the plastic ring onto his finger. He twists it around his ring finger, unable to suppress the smile on his face, which in turn makes Michael smile. “Pretty good for 50 cents. And your signature color, green.”

“75 actually.” Michael corrects him. “Green matches my eyes.” He says with a silly dramatic flair grinning at the laugh that leaves Axel’s lips.

“Oooh, even bigger spender.”

Michael crosses the stage taking Axel’s into his arms, his hand finding Axel’s own to twist the ring around his finger with a grin. He brings Axel’s hands to his lips, kissing his inner wrist. Michael’s lips trace from Axel’s wrist to his palm, down to the tips of Axel’s fingers. Axel’s features blushing red as he bites his lower lip.

Michael draws Axel into a hug, his arms securely around his torso, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

“You know, earlier I imagine that’s how Taylor Swift felt when she wrote that line you like so much. The ‘I pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street’.”

Michael laughs loudly, “You’re ridiculous. I don’t like Taylor Swift.”

“I love you Michael Harrison.” Axel whispers sweetly biting back a smile at his antics, his hands around Michael’s neck as he sways them back and forth slowly.

He presses his lips against Axel’s own, capturing him in a passionate kiss. His lips heavy against Axel’s own, as their tongues meet with a satisfying hum. Michael memorizes the taste of Axel’s lips and the warmth of his breath so even when they’re far away he can always remember the pleasure of kissing him.

“I love you Axel LaHart.”

[donaidk]

INQUISITIONE - PIERRE GASLY Part I

This was the first ever fic I posted here on Tumblr or anywhere else as a present for @x-lipstickstain-x. Always was one of my faves even if I abandoned it once I got myself way too deep into other fics as well. Now it's time to give it a makeover, rewriting every part and adding a few bits and bobs cause my style got better since and I'm not scared to admit it was rushed at a few bits. Hope you guys will enjoy it 🧡

Now reading: Part I (- | Part II)

Masterlist

Travelling to Monaco wasn’t exactly part of my plans, right until my invitation for the Laureus Sports Awards Ceremony. It wasn’t exactly unexpected as there has been chatter going around about a possible nomination for my performance in the last year. However, from the moment I had to miss out on a few dates in the championship calendar thanks to injuries and precautions it seemed like my chance faded away slowly but surely. Even after getting the invite the idea of getting to take the award home never crossed my mind, mostly thanks to my own brother. Julien being a well known name in the same sport on a lower level and loving to act like my manager meant our work was almost the only topic we seemed to discuss. He was always a strict person, more with keeping me in top shape than anything else in his own life, which often unfolded in using missed opportunities as a crude type of motivation. In this exact setting, he never let me forget that I would be missing out on a prestigious award because I just wouldn’t push through setbacks hard enough. His words for ‘you will get there next time around, don’t worry’ as I like to imagine.

That said, the invite was almost swept under the rug as I suspected it would just be a night of heartache and longing right until Julien caught a whiff of it. I could partially agree with him that not attending was a sore loser type of choice, but I wasn’t embarrassed to accept that it’s exactly how I was feeling. Like a sore loser. Even as I was getting ready for the evening my brain was struggling to understand how Julien managed to change my mind about attending. He tried using Charles being a guest of the event, someone who he was great friends with since they met a few years ago and who I tolerated but only considered as an acquaintance. It somehow worked in a way that we decided to accept the invite just for him to be my plus one, giving him a chance to spend some time with Charles who according to Julien was happy about the news during their next phone call.

My only relief was that Julien agreed to get a hotel room instead of staying with Charles, being crammed into a typical small Monaco flat being a nightmare of mine. Having our own rooms gave me the breathing space I sometimes needed from him and meant we could have our usual very different routines without them clashing and causing arguments like usual. It was almost a mystery how people could even guess we were siblings, with all the differences from our personality and mindset to how we looked. Patience levels being one of our biggest differences.

“ Are you finally ready? ” I heard Julien from the living room of the hotel room. He showed up half an hour ago, stating that we’re gonna be late even though we still had an hour to get into a car as we previously planned with the intention of arriving early.

“ You were the one who was too early. ” I rolled my eyes while clasping my earrings and standing up from the little desk that had all of my makeup and hair stuff on it. “ Does your patience really not exist or is it just me who doesn’t deserve any of it? ” I asked him as I stepped out of the bedroom only to get one of the bags that had my heels in them.

“ Don’t start it. Today should be a calm evening. ” He stood up, just missing my eye roll, stepping to the door while I slid my feet into the shoes and followed him outside as soon as I had my jacket in my hands. I wasn’t planning on catching a cold, even though Monaco was usually warm. It was February, and we were lucky enough to be met with quite cold weather for the weekend of the event. “ You look good. ” He added as I made sure the door was closed but then walked past him, without taking a look at him.

’ You’re not saving it with that. ’ I shook my head at my thoughts, rather just looking forward and calling the elevator as we got to it. Sometimes I hated how cold we could be to each other while just a second later we could joke around with grins on our faces. The rarer exchange between us. It was truly a strange siblingship we managed to build up. I couldn’t even call it a usual brother-sister situation. Even if on most days he truly acted like an older brother, looking out for me and making sure I wasn’t hurt by anything or anyone. There just should have been more of that than anything else he decided to add to our lives. “ Charles meeting us at the venue? ” I asked once the silence in the elevator took a toll on me.

„ I think so. ” He shrugged a little, stepping outside as we arrived and went to get us the car that was promised. “ He said he’s gonna text me if he arrives or decides to get a car with us. Which he didn’t do yet, so I’m guessing he will meet us there. ” He checked his phone again, letting me leave the building first after he opened the door. I got my jacket on my shoulders, as my dress was quite open, and followed Julien to the car that was parked next to the building.

He and Charles met at a sports event two years ago, becoming friends instantly. Since then they have spent quite some time together, visiting each other in Monaco or France, and even going on vacations when they had a break at the same time. It was quite rare, as the F1 winter break was the main part of our season, leaving only the summer break for them to travel together. Somehow I never really got close to Charles, even though I did spend time with them when they had a plan together or were spending time at our apartment while I still lived with Julien in France. I never had a problem with him, he was a great guy. We just never really connected and needed each other's company when we had the chance to be together.

Ten minutes later we were already at the venue, the opening of the car door yanking me back from my memories immediately. We managed to enter the building without any hold up, showing our passes at the entrance and deciding to walk around a bit so we could check out everything before we would have to sit down at our table. It wasn’t long before we both got a glass of champagne and found some skiing friends we stopped to talk to. Julien was in the middle of one of his interesting stories, that we probably already heard from him like four times when I spotted Charles coming our way from the other side of the room. I poked my brother on his shoulder to get his attention, almost getting a glare from him in exchange before he spotted his friend and a grin crept onto his face. He still quickly finished his story, before excusing us out of the conversation and leading both of us to Charles. I didn’t really plan on following him but he made it visible that he wanted me to be by his side so I won’t get lost in the crowd.

“ Welcome to Monaco, guys! How have you been? ” Charles grinned at us as we finally stood in front of him, greeting both of us with a short hug. He wasn’t alone though, a stranger standing next to him, with a glass in his hand. Although his face was familiar, I couldn’t really connect it to a name in my head. However, they didn’t really pay any attention to him as they started talking immediately. It was quite awkward to stand there looking at either each other or my brother and Charles. Luckily one of the hosts saved the moment, by requesting everyone to take their seat at a table, making us walk towards the sitting area. We walked next to each other, following Julien and Charles, not really knowing how to handle the situation, before getting brave enough to finally open my mouth.

“ I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Fleur, Julien’s sister. ” I turned to him when we had to wait for the queue to move. If it would have been on the two idiots in front of us, we would have ended the night not even knowing each other's names.

“ Pierre, Charles’s childhood friend. Although you wouldn’t be able to tell. ” He let out a laugh looking at his friend who was so deep in the conversation with my brother that he almost tripped on his own foot. The scene made me shake my head with a smile as we followed them through the crowd to an empty table with six chairs next to it in a half-circle shape.

The two of them straight away sat down on the farthest two of the chairs next to each other, not leaving space for Pierre who in the end chose the chair on my left as I got next to Julien. I was trying to get my jacket behind me, somehow getting it stuck every time I tried, when he took it from me and in a swift motion smoothed it onto the back of my chair. I thanked him with a quick smile, looking back forward as the hosts appeared on the stage to start the whole event.

“ I never thought I would feel such a third wheel in my life again. ” Pierre whispered to me almost ten minutes into it, as Charles and Julien were still talking between them, not even caring about us.

“ You haven't spent enough time with my brother yet. He can make you feel like that even if you are alone with him. ” I sighed, looking at him as it wasn’t even that interesting on the stage. “ I don’t really like spending time with the two of them if there isn’t someone else with us. ” I shrugged my shoulders, as I took a sip from my drink.

“ He sounds like great company. ” He chuckled, making me smile too, although it was actually sad how little he cared about anything outside of his own feelings. But that’s Julien. You either deal with it or just leave him behind. “ I think Charles already mentioned you once. You compete in skiing, right? ” His question left me stunned for just a second, his interest surprising from someone who didn't exactly plan on meeting new people tonight.

“ Yeah. Some might call me a professional adrenaline junkie though. ” I was relaxed enough to let out a chuckle at my own joke and he seemed to be on board, a smile taking over his face.

“ Think I might know a thing or two about how that feels. ” He added with a huff of air, making me finally remember where I have seen him before. His face finally connected to a few pictures I have seen of Charles and him, as well as his name was in almost every story I have heard from the other F1 driver from our few meetings.

I suspected his interest would quite soon fade as the night went on but he seemed to be an active partner, both of us falling into an easy conversation about our sports and the lives we were in a way subjected to outside of it. It was evident he was subjected to the downsides of fame as F1 took up an ever growing part of the entertainment business but he didn’t seem to be affected by it as much as I had imagined at first. It was captivating how he talked about racing and driving those cars, making me actually excited to maybe watch some races in the upcoming season. It wasn’t something I never did, as I already watched some of the races, but it was never something I paid much attention to, mostly just turning it on as background noise. It took us a moment to finally connect the dots, but once he mentioned the team he was driving for I couldn’t hold back my smile as I mentioned I just got sponsored by Red Bull at the start of my season. It was a coincidence we had a good laugh about, confused how we haven’t heard more about each other before tonight.

“ You should come out to a race if you have time. It’s a lot better in person. ” He offered with a little smile and I was about to respond when Julien chose the exact moment to finally remember they weren’t alone and started talking to me.

“ You know, you should be up there. ” He bumped my shoulder with his, making me look up and realise they were just talking about my category. Someone who didn’t know him would have thought it was sweet of him, but I just knew he wasn’t finished. “ Maybe if you would have actually pushed yourself, you know. ” He added, with a smirk on his face as my smile faded.

“ Says someone, who still didn’t get any awards either. ” I bit back at him, trying to hide how uncomfortable it made me feel that he’s doing this in front of other people. My head started to boil although I got myself together in seconds.

„ Well, the male categories are a lot harder. But getting into yours should be effortless. ” He shrugged, making my jaw visibly drop, as I couldn’t believe that my own blood would make a comment like this. I saw the surprise on Charles' face too, but he didn’t dare speak up and I just wanted to get out of this conversation before I would regret my next action. I only saw him act like this when he was tipsy, but even his champagne glass was sitting more than half full in front of him.

„ Talk to me if you come to your senses. ” I told him, standing up and leaving the table as soon as I could, choosing to sit at the bar alone rather than stay next to him. “ Calm evening my ass. ” I muttered as his words from before we left the hotel immediately came back to me.

Drinking wasn’t exactly on my list of activities tonight, as I liked to keep it light during the season, but I rather ordered a light cocktail just to give the bartender something else to do than stand and stare after hearing our exchanged words just seconds ago. With him walking to the other side of the bar to prepare the colourful drink I could finally let out the breath stuck in my lungs, holding myself back from turning on the bar chair. I knew Julien would be content enough to stay put and leave me be, inside feeling like he once again won an argument. It was easier to deal with emotions without each other. Sometimes I really didn’t know what I was waiting for when I knew quite well how he can be, and how much he doesn’t know the limits that shouldn’t be touched. These moments made me understand why I moved away from and why I wasn’t on the same team as him anymore.

“ You okay? ” Pierre wasn’t trying to sneak up on me, but still managed, my heart jumping when he appeared next to me, already occupying another chair.

“ Yeah, just the usual. I’ll just leave him to it. You can’t be next to him when he’s in that mindset. ” I swirled my drink as soon as it was placed in front of me, looking at how it went around the wall of the glass. “ Or at least I can’t. ” I huffed out, putting the glass down before I would accidentally break it.

„ He will probably realise what he said was wrong. ” Pierre sent a calming smile towards me, making me smile too although it still felt sour inside. With a little nod, I tried changing the topic back to where we left off, hoping it would make me forget the last two minutes of my life.

It actually helped, talking to him calmed me down and just minutes later I felt like nothing bad happened today, and everything was perfect since I woke up. Pierre did have this effect, probably on every person on this Earth and also on me, that you just focused on talking to him and forgot where you were and what happened before you started the conversation with him. We went over how I started ski jumping and my journey until now, but we also touched on his career and what he did since he started. I never knew people who were racing cars as a job, so it was the first time for me to learn about how their lives actually look like. It wasn’t at all as glamorous as one would think in quite a few aspects. The event was slowly approaching its end when I started feeling how tired I actually was. The only thing I was dreading was me having to travel back to the hotel in the same car as Julien. I really wasn’t looking forward to it.

“ Think I’m gonna run before it really ends. I don’t really care about sitting in the same car as him. ” I sighed, not even naming Julien as I knew he would know who I’m talking about. “ A nice walk to clear my head further. ” I sighed once I realised we came here in the same car and it would be contracted to take both of us, subjecting me to either walk to the hotel as a cab won't even be worth it.

“ I can take you back. I don’t mind leaving a little early and Charles has his own car here, so he won’t mind me leaving either. ” Pierre stood up after me, making me look up at him. I didn’t really react to him at first and I could see in his eyes that he was about to take back his offer, thinking he did bad.

„ I wouldn’t say no to that. ” I smiled at him gladly, taking my purse from the bar so we could go. “ Only if you truly don’t mind driving me and then getting yourself home. ” I added as I really didn’t want to be a burden on him.

“ I’m a driver, it won’t strain me. ” He let out a laugh, making me join in as we walked outside. It was a lot colder and even windier than when we arrived here. “ Oh, my jacket… ” I looked back as soon as it hit me that I left it inside. I was just about to go back, even though I hated the thought of having to talk to Julien as I had to take it from next to him, when my shoulders got covered with comfortable warmth and looking back forward I saw as Pierre let go of his own coat that was now on me.

“ Stay here, I’m gonna get my car and pick you up from here. ” He said before I could even react to him giving me his jacket, and the only thing I could do was wait while I watched him walk away, towards the parking lot. My surprise would have been evident for any onlooker, as I stood there clutching his jacket around myself and thinking about what was actually happening.

It wasn’t even five minutes later when he parked down in front of me and I got into the sportscar. I wasn’t really surprised that he had one but still, it took me off guard for a second before I shook myself out of it. He was a smooth driver, I didn’t have any problems with his style and he did get me to the hotel in one piece. I was actually sad when it was time for me to get out and say goodbye to him, but I really hoped we would meet sometime again, but couldn’t muster up the courage to ask for his number or offer mine to him. I would have gladly had a chat with him once in a while about anything though. He was a perfect conversation partner, next to whom you can easily mention anything without fearing his response.