#aka honesty hour

[welcometololaland]

Good morning Lola!! some questions to distract you during your dry needling. Now I see you’re a big traveler, what is your favourite meal you’ve eaten overseas? also! your answer about gang signs & prayer has given me so much nostalgia omg! I listened to that album on my train to and from uni constantly, and now everytime I hear songs from it it just reminds me of that time in my life, so I want to know you’re favourite songs or lyrics from it? and as a fellow cds in the car gal, what’s the first album your remember buying? and your fave to listen to in the car lately?

good morning! thanks for the ask! the needles are out and i am hobbling around because my quads are SO tight - the physio: 'oooh this is a good one' me: 'this fucking sucks actually'.

my favourite overseas meal - not sure exactly, but probably something i ate in vietnam or thailand. i had some truly incredible meals over there and SO cheap too. 309428/10 would go back for food alone (but also other reasons).

stormz giving us so much life! my favourite song is prob mr skeng for the vibes, but i also first things first, cold and cigarettes and cush (kehlani and lily allen 😭) the lyric that always gets me is the 'you was fighting with your girl when i was fighting my depression' just before the pause because it hits. but i just saw stormzy at laneway and let me tell you the energy in vossi bop for 'i could never die, i'm chuck norris / fuck the government and fuck boris' was high key haha. also, i'm not sure if you've heard one take freestyle - that song is so random but it's one of my favourites of his!

my very first album was on TAPE (that's how old i am - it was britney's baby one more time). my first CD was s club 7 - bring it all back. what was yours?

thanks for the ask!

[yeonsu-bh]

Do you ever see yourself getting married?

"one day maybe if i find someone i truly love and want to start a family with. i'd love to have a family one day after all."

[puck-luck]

forced proximity with jack even though you guys are enemies… so you guys say 👀

lucky lift | jack hughes

warnings: elevator sex, enemies to FWB, secret pining on jack’s side, hj, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing/general dirty talk (aka i just like writing dialogue) pairing: jack hughes x reader summary: the one when you hook up with your work enemy on a whim wc: 1468

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” You hiss. “You know I don’t like this any more than you do.”

To top off a shitty day, in which you had woken up late, spilled coffee on the shirt that you had been waiting to wear all week, and tripped up the stairs in full view of everyone in the office, you were now stuck– nay, you were trapped, cornered, imprisoned– in the elevator with none other than Jack Hughes.

You and Jack had been working at this company for the same amount of time, both of you hired in the same week, trained by the same people, and working on the same projects. You hated each other. You supposed you hated Jack first, but it was only because he made everything so competitive. He claimed he couldn’t help it when your work bestie brought it up to him (much to your chagrin), “because he was an athlete when he was younger.”

In an ideal world, this “athlete” could pry open the doors of the elevator so you could make an escape. Instead, he’s staring at you with an amused smirk on his face while you do all the work.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Jack scoffs. 

“Maybe I do hate it more than you,” You bite back. “You seem awfully content over there to watch me do all the work.”

“I called for help,” Jack reminds you. “They said two hours. To me. I don’t remember you offering to call.”

“I didn’t have service,” You say through gritted teeth. 

“Get a better provider,” Jack says in the same tone. 

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

“I think you’re really easy to piss off.” Jack’s smile pulls at the sides of his lips in a way that’s almost endearing, but you also want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.

“I think you–”

“I also think the stain on your shirt from your coffee has gotten worse with the sweat from all your efforts to escape,” Jack interrupts. “Maybe you should take it off.”

The initial surprise that came with his statement turns to anger at his arrogance. “Excuse me?” You exclaim, stalking over to him and whacking his arm. “You’re coming onto me? As if you couldn’t make this situation any worse?”

“We might as well have fun with it,” Jack says with a shrug, shying away from your violent slaps. 

“I don’t even like you,” You point out. “You don’t even like me.”

Jack reaches a hand up and cups your cheek, silencing you. “Does it matter?” 

The weight of his hand against your face and the pure honesty of his tone causes your stomach to turn. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him like that before, but it was rare. It was during the monthly meetings Jack led, when he had to wear more business professional clothing, and he always decided to roll up his sleeves post-meeting and lose the jacket. You usually caught him in the break room brewing his own coffee, focused and straight-faced like he was about to reenter the meeting rather than celebrate its end. 

“No,” You decide. 

You allow him to pull you in, pressing your lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You never thought Jack was the kind to savor something, but here you were. He’s slow with his movements, his fingers trailing over your curves and ridges like he’s trying to map your body. 

“You’re going too slow,” You complain, palming the front of his dress pants. You fit your hand on his bulge, rubbing over it until he lets out a moan. “Let’s speed things up.”

“I want to enjoy this,” Jack mumbles and you can barely hear him.

“You will,” You tell him, unzipping his pants and reaching into his boxers. You circle your hand around his dick, pumping him from base to tip, using his precum to make the glide smoother. 

“No,” Jack groans and tilts his head back. “I want to enjoy this.”

You pause your movements. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack bucks his hips up into your hand, your grip loose around him while you wait for him to explain. “You’re just so pretty when you’re mad at me.”

“Oh,” You breathe out. 

“And you’re mad at me all the time,” Jack whines. He pushes you against the wall of the elevator, leaning in to leave kisses along your neck. He sucks at the underside of your jaw, leaving a cool circle of saliva when he trails his lips lower. “Wanted to fuck you for so long now, Y/N.”

He presses his hips into your body, your hand still trapped in his pants. You remove it as his hands cover the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, you immediately circling your legs around his waist. He uses one hand to push his pants down, his belt clinking against the floor as the fabric pools around his feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth and causing him to groan. Jack pulls your skirt up and moves your panties to the side, movements quick now that he admitted his secret to you.

He presses himself inside of you, feeding his cock into your tight, wet cunt. 

“Feels so good,” Jack whispers. “So tight, baby. So wet.”

“Fuck me, Jack,” You tell him, voice strong. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Gonna,” Jack agrees with a moan, rolling his hips sensually. 

Jack steps forward until he can hold you up against the wall and push one leg so your ankle rests on his shoulder. He turns and gives your ankle a kiss, then bows his head to watch himself enter you to a rhythm that only he knows. Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.

“Not gonna last,” Jack chokes out, clutching at your waist. 

“Gonna come in me?” You tease, nipping at Jack’s earlobe.

Jack lets out a high keen, his mouth falling open and his eyelids fluttering shut as your entrance flutters around him, causing him to come undone inside of you. His breaths come out as stuttered as his thrusts do, his come warm inside you and leaking out when he draws himself out of you. 

Jack keeps you pressed against the wall of the elevator, but lowers himself to his knees.

“Gonna clean you up,” Jack promises. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, your ankles crossed behind his back. His hands pull at your ass cheeks, kneading them. 

“J,” You whimper when Jack attaches his lips to your entrance. He moans against your hole, flicking his tongue against your hole like a dog drinking from a bowl of water. He nuzzles his face into your cunt and brings a hand around to rub your clit in quick circles.

“Y’look so good,” Jack praises, his eyes so big and blue from where they look up at you. “You gonna come? Gonna mix us together, give me something to really enjoy?”

“Oh,” You exclaim, your fingers lacing into Jack’s hair. Your hips buck against his face and he slips a finger into your hole, pushing it in and out of you and curling it as he laps at your clit. “Fuck, Jack, just like that.”

Miraculously, he listens to you and only intensifies his actions, pumping a second finger into you.

You choke on a wail as you come on his fingers, the climax causing your head to fall back against the wall of the elevator with force. Jack stifles a laugh, but continues to lick at your come (and his own) until you’re removing your hands from his hair and trying to get your feet back on solid ground.

“You know, I like you like this,” Jack teases, fixing your panties for you and moving your skirt back to its original position. He pulls his own pants up when he rises, tucking himself away and buckling his belt with his very talented fingers. “All fucked out.”

“If anything, I’m the one who fucked you,” You bite back. “You came first and you ate your own come out of me."

“Mmm, next time I’ll leave it inside of you,” Jack says with a short kiss to your neck, adjusting the collar of your blouse. His hand ghosts over your neck and he feels the way your breath hitches. “Maybe we should get to the office early one day and I’ll bend you over my desk. You’ll have to walk around all day, feeling my come drip out of you. You’ll be begging me to clean you up then.”

note: ugh office enemies is a trope that i need in my life. if i'm going to be a slave to the work force i am going to fuck my hot enemy jack hughes whenever i can!

[cacoetheswriting]

honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

-

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 

“Please, Eddie.” 

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[kentopedia]

piece of cake

FEATURING. nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 9.8k

SUMMARY: nanami can't help but notice your strange behavior, and he begins to grow suspicious (aka you throw him a surprise birthday party)

CONTENTS: sorcerer!reader, nanami's bday, husband nanami, reader & nanami povs, gojo being the bestest friend, also everyone loves nanamin!! very very light angst, slight misunderstandings, and ofc nanami being the love of my life. sfw!!!

note: this ended up way longer than i intended! the ending is a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish it before his birthday ended. i love this sweet man so much :(

Nanami didn’t want to be that kind of man.

He knew that letting his thoughts wander into accusations were a one-way ticket to unfounded miscommunication. It was senseless to even go there; coming up with wild solutions that he couldn’t back up would only cause problems that didn’t need to happen in the first place.

With his whole heart, Nanami trusted you. He loved you, and he had never doubted that you felt the same. Honesty was important, and you were both mature enough to understand that communication was the only way to make a relationship work.

He reminded himself of that whenever his mind was clouded with uncertainty.

There was still a small twinge of doubt that wouldn’t leave him alone, and day after day, it became more and more difficult to convince himself that he wasn’t concerned. Every time he tried to speak with you about your strange behavior, you’d talked him into circles, bringing him right back to the beginning of the question like he’d never asked it at all.

Nanami tried to tell himself he was creating something out of nothing, but for weeks, you’d been coming home late, you were always on the phone, and he would have been an optimist or an idiot if he truly believed you weren’t hiding something.

When he really put his mind to it, he could stop himself from coming to unfathomable conclusions. You’d never given him reason to doubt you, even if your behavior had become suspicious as of late.

What he couldn’t diminish was the deeply buried fear that, maybe, you wanted someone more than him.

The entire mess had started just a month ago, when he’d stumbled into the lounge at the high school, a book tucked under his arm and a coffee in his hand. Lunch hour had just ended.

Nanami visited you at the school often, and at this time, you were almost always training Maki, or switching off a class with another sorcerer. Your schedule rarely deviated, and if you weren’t in the middle of teaching, it was because they’d needed you elsewhere.

So, of course, he was surprised to see you were doing neither of those things. Instead, you were in the lounge with Gojo, talking in hushed voices while you stood strangely close to one another.

Your back was turned towards the door when Nanami entered, and you gesticulated wildly with your hands. Between your speed and the low volume of your voice, Nanami couldn’t catch a word of what you were saying. It was obvious that you were excited, and Gojo leaned up against the back counter with an indulgent smile, placing his fingertips to his chin thoughtfully.

Nanami wasn’t sure whether or not to announce his presence, so he let the door slam shut behind him, breaking up your enigmatic conversation.

You whipped around in surprise, your eyes wide. In a similar manner, Gojo’s head darted up like he had no idea Nanami had entered at all. The scene would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so unfamiliar.

“Nanamin!” Gojo stumbled around the first syllable of his name before recovering smoothly, smiling that cheeky grin of his. “When did you get in? I thought your assignment wasn’t until later this afternoon?”

As Nanami slid into the room, he glanced between you and Gojo with pinched eyebrows, attempting to ignore his unusually awkward behavior. Gojo slid across the countertop, slowly inching away from you until he hit the edge.

“Kento!” you said, in a voice that was much squeakier than your normal tone as you shattered the silence. “You’re here early.”

Nanami had long since given up on trying to understand Gojo Satoru’s behavior, but you were a different case entirely. Your smile was lopsided and uncomfortable, and you wiped your hands on your sides like you weren’t sure what to do with them.

He couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or glad to see him. His features pinched tighter, and he shook off the nasty voice of mistrust that threatened to cloud his logical mind. “I’ve been asked to take Itadori with me today. Apparently, someone’s been telling the principal that I’m a good influence on him.” He took off his glasses, meeting your eyes pointedly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

You smiled sheepishly, drawing closer to him like a magnet. As you left Gojo’s side to stand beside Nanami, that sharp coil of irritation within him released. The lines in his forehead smoothed, and everything was just as it should be.

“I had nothing to do with this,” you said with a small shrug, fixing the tie that was already straight, as if looking for a reason to touch him. “What would make you think that?”

Nanami rolled his eyes at you, knowing you’d had everything to do with it, and gave you an exasperated smile.

You released his lapels shortly after to check the time and frowned when you realized how late it had gotten. “I have to go.” You pecked him on the cheek with a grin, and though Gojo was watching from behind the dark blindfold, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care. “Maki’s meeting me soon, and I don’t want to make her wait. See you later, Kento.”

He squeezed your hand, the action almost imperceptible as you waved to the other man over your shoulder. “Bye, Gojo.”

Gojo returned the action, his lips pulled together playfully as he returned his focus to Nanami. Although he’d seen the two of you together on numerous occasions, his favorite pastime was teasing the younger man about any sign of affection.

Nanami sighed, suspecting that he’d have to tolerate Gojo for the next half-hour until Itadori was back. He took a long sip of coffee that scalded his throat and sat down on the couch.

The silence lasted until Gojo crept unfortunately closer, lurking like a cat until Nanami huffed, the sign of irritation that Gojo had been waiting for. The white-haired man drew out Nanami’s name like a song, and then plopped himself down on the chair across from him, blabbering on about things that Nanami really didn’t want to listen to.

When he realized five minutes had passed without Gojo even taking a breath, he gritted his teeth, and leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t realize you were such good friends with my wife.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth. Nanami had known that you’d gotten closer to Gojo since you’d started working for the school part-time, but you talked about him about as often as you talked about your other colleagues. About as much as Nanami talked about Gojo.

You’d never made it seem like he was the type of person you swapped secrets with in the lounge while everyone else was off on a break.

“Really?” Gojo drew out the word dramatically, his mouth curling into a pout. “I’d say we’re good friends, actually.” He tipped his head back, leaning against the chair with uncharacteristic seriousness. “We mostly talk about you, though. I know you better than I know her.”

“That’s a shame.” Nanami flipped the page, finishing the last bit of his coffee, and feigned irritation, even if he was warmed by the thought of you talking about him so much. “She’s much more interesting than me.”

Gojo laughed, and it seemed to be genuine. Nanami began to grow frightened that he might actually be roped into an actual, amicable conversation with the man.

“Aww,” he cooed sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Nanamin. I know you’re probably worried we’ll become better friends, but you were my friend first.”

Nanami glanced up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Trust me, I’m really not worried about that.” He kicked his leg out, the beginnings of a headache forming in his temple. “I’m more concerned that she’ll invite you over for dinner. I’d like to refrain from any interactions with you outside of work.”  

Gojo made a face and then whined dramatically. “You’re so mean to me.” He wiped a hand over his eyes like he was shedding tears.  

Nanami sighed.

A few days later, when he took Itadori out for another training session, he began asking Nanami too many questions about his personal life. That fact wasn’t as suspicious as it was frustrating. He couldn’t help that Itadori was curious, but he could’ve asked him these things on the ride over, or while they were at the school.

Invasive questions in the middle of a potential life or death situation were not exactly ones Nanami wanted to tolerate.

“So… what kind of places do you like to shop?”

The question was completely unrelated to his lesson and completely out of the blue. Nanami stopped, eyeing the teenager with undisguised skepticism. “Itadori. I’m not answering that kind of question when we’re in the middle of something serious.” He thought about his words, and quickly rephrased them. “Actually, I’m not answering that question at all.”

Itadori stared back, his face falling theatrically. Nanami could’ve guessed from that expression alone that he’d been spending far too much time with Gojo. “Fine.” He relented, drawing out the word as he scurried to catch up with Nanami, who was already paces ahead.

He let a few minutes pass before his next question.

“Where are your favorite places to eat?”

Nanami closed his eyes to regain his patience. “I’m not answering that either.”

A huff of disappointment. “Well, can I ask about your favorite—”

“No.”

Itadori’s glower turned into something more like a realistic frowny face. Nanami tried to refrain from snapping at him in order to regain his focus. “What can I ask?”

“Anything that you will gain valuable insight from.” Itadori opened his mouth, and Nanami quickly sensed his next words. “Insight that isn’t about me.”

He deflated once more. “Okay, fine.” For a few more moments, he surrendered, letting the conversation stall. Nanami should’ve known better than to expect peace and quiet for long. “So… what days will you be going on assignments? Do you have like… a set schedule, or do you usually get called in?”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, hearing the creak of a floorboard upstairs. There were curses nearby, and if Itadori continued yammering on without paying attention, that would spell a lot of trouble for him and the kid. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m just curious.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you now isn’t the time.”

Itadori opened his mouth, but then seemed to register the sound of cursed spirits, and he finally sobered his attention. His expression changed to one of seriousness, and, thankfully, he let the topic go.

After a particularly stressful mission, Nanami went to the bakery that the two of you frequented, the one that had been the site of many of your dates throughout the years.

It was a quiet little café at the edge of the city, a perfect middle-ground between your home and the school. When he’d been working in the office, and you were still a sorcerer, you’d met him there on numerous occasions, usually bruised and battered, but never without a beautiful smile.

He stretched his back behind him as he headed through the door, his clothes dirtied from fighting and his hair in disarray. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted, wanting just to go home and curl in bed to await your return.

It was a small daydream that would carry him through his last few hours of working, so long as no cursed spirits popped up in his vicinity of patrolling. There seemed to be more and more lately, and if he wasn’t being called off to go fight, then you were, leaving no time for either of you to be with each other.

As he crossed the threshold, another man was exiting, seemingly in a big hurry and carrying a coffee that he almost splashed all over Nanami’s chest.  

Reeling in his irritation, Nanami began a polite, “Excuse me,” before realizing who had nearly trampled over him. “Gojo. What are you doing here.”

“What a coincidence seeing you here,” Gojo greeted with a wide grin, like he wasn’t the one infiltrating one of Nanami’s sacred, headache-free spaces.

Nanami cringed, looking at the coffee in Gojo’s hand and the white pastry bag, immediately recognizing the contents. It was your favorite drink, the dessert you got once a week; you’d been ordering the same thing for the past two months, always getting hooked on new things before you eventually tired of them. He knew the order by heart.

“Sorry, I really wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve got important goods to deliver.” He held up the bag and the cup, a receipt folded up between his fingers. Bitterly, Nanami noticed he hadn’t bought anything for himself. For someone with such a sweet tooth, it seemed hard to believe that he’d refrained from indulging.

Which, Nanami concluded with annoyance, meant that he’d come specifically for you. He checked his watch, pushing away the negative emotions. Even though you could’ve called him if you wanted something, like you always did, you’d asked Gojo instead. “She’s not on a break?”

“Some students wanted her help with some things. I told her I didn’t mind getting her something if she wanted to take a break later this afternoon.” Gojo flattened his blindfold over his eyes, the material bunching up around his nose. “Everyone’s out today, anyway.”

“I see,” Nanami said, hating the unnecessary sting in his chest. You knew he’d been working, and even though he told you where he was going, you probably hadn’t seen the message. If you were busy, then he couldn’t expect you to be checking your phone. “Well, tell her I said hello, then.”

“Will do,” Gojo saluted cartoonishly and flitted out the door, smiling with a kind of glee that Nanami, stupidly, wanted to wipe off his face.

Those separate incidents with Gojo had annoyed him, of course, but he knew they weren’t anything to get worked up about. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about the interactions entirely, until another week passed and Nanami slowly started to wonder if you spent more time with the white-haired man than the one you were in a relationship with.

You’d woken up before him that morning, and Nanami opened his eyes to a colder bed and the sound of hushed music softly playing from behind the bathroom door.

It was a cooler day for June. You’d opened the window, and there were dark clouds gathering in the sky, a sign that it was going to storm any time now. He stretched his stiff back, padding to the hallway, where he could see the light coming from the bathroom, the door cracked open. The smell of your perfume wafted through, and Nanami had half a sense to drag you back to the bed and keep you there until the weekend was over.

He pushed the door open further, leaning against the threshold to watch you swipe pink gloss over your puckered lips. Your makeup was freshly powdered, your hair done up in its usual manner.

Nanami smiled, leaning against the door frame as he watched you finish getting ready. “Where are you going this morning, pretty girl?”

You blinked at him through the mirror, putting the tube of lip gloss back in the bag before turning to him with a smile. You looked so sweet, and he yearned for you, almost in disbelief that you’d been together for so long. “I’m taking the kids shopping in the city with Gojo today.” You wrapped your arms around his stomach, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I’ll be home before dinner. Want me to cook tonight?”

Nanami brushed your cheek, feeling that annoying wave of irritation return to claw at him. He didn’t care that you were spending time with Gojo—he shouldn’t care. Your students would be there too, and you’d been happier ever since you started working at the school. The first and second years cared about you so much already, and Gojo was a much less annoying friend to you than he was to Nanami.

He liked seeing you so happy, despite the toll that the job often took on you. “Don’t worry about it. We need to pick up groceries, anyway. I’ll do that while you’re out.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. Although you’d meant for it to be quick, Nanami had wrapped an arm around your lower back, pressing you closer, deepening the kiss. He ruined your lipstick, smearing it all over his mouth, but he didn’t care.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, holding you close to him.

“I’m still in my pajamas.” You laughed, your cheeks growing warm as you drew away from him, teasingly dodging his final kiss. “Are you sure you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll probably miss you too much.” As you fixed your lipstick, Nanami went back to the bedroom, rifling through his coat pocket for his wallet. He tossed the gold card on the bathroom counter, where your purse was laying.

You eyed him over your shoulder. “No.”

He stared back, just as seriously. “Yes. Buy yourself something nice, sweetheart.” He thought of the young teenager he’d been mentoring, who’d been putting in his best effort, and who he’d, unfortunately, come to care about quite a lot. “Itadori too. Just don’t tell him it’s from me.”

You blinked, before your expression changed into something so bright, Nanami would’ve done everything in his power to keep it there. “I knew you liked him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With an affection so full that it threatened to burst out of your chest, you jumped towards him, wrapping yourself up in his arms. He kissed your temple and breathed, remembering just how much he didn’t want to lose you.

You were true to your word, always. You came back when you promised, you told him where you were going, but Nanami noticed that you’d been even more secretive since you went shopping with Gojo and your students. When he asked your plans, you were even more vague. When you didn’t return with any shopping bags, he found it odd that you smelled of a cologne he didn’t wear.

He reminded himself of how much he trusted you—he really, really didn’t think you would lie to him, but he couldn’t deny that your behavior was confusing him.

Nanami finished off his tea, eyes across the room as he watched you type wildly on your phone, your brows crinkled. You sent a message then waited for a response, impatiently pacing across the kitchen.

He called your name, but you didn’t respond, too enraptured in whatever it was that you were doing. You seemed to be attached to your cell phone these days, always having a call to respond to, and always jumping when he was a little too close to seeing your messages.

Yesterday, Gojo’s name had popped up on your screen with a message, and you’d crawled across Nanami’s lap to get the phone before he could even think to hand it to you. Nanami had done nothing but stare back at you, and you’d smiled at him, embarrassed, still hiding the screen from him as you read the message.

He really, really didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But these days, you were spending all your free time with Gojo, and you grew defensive every time he tried to bring it up.  

“Are you done with the tea?” Nanami asked again, piling up the dirty dishes from where he sat, noticing your cup was still half-full, but lukewarm.

You chewed your thumbnail anxiously, bouncing your leg as you waited for the person on the other end to reply. The phone shook in your hands, and you read through it again, obviously disappointed by the short response. He could’ve guessed who you were talking to, even if he didn’t want to.

Nanami frowned and called your name one more time. Finally, you looked up.

“What?” you asked, and then came to understand his question. The tea sat, unenjoyed, and shame marred your features. “Oh. I’m sorry. No, I’m not finished.” You frowned, tucking the phone back into your pocket before rushing over to your seat. “I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, and Nanami stared, waiting for you to finish your explanation, even though you let it die there. “It’s been busy at work.”

Nanami hated how easily he could tell you were lying. He sighed, rubbing his temples as your phone rang again. This time, though, you kept it in your pocket.

It had been like that for the past couple of days. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with any possible explanation other than the most distressing one.

“Kento?” you asked in a small voice, noting his obvious discontent. “Is everything alright?”

He looked up at you, your eyes so wide and full of concern, and even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. His chin fell, arms resting limply at his sides as you looked back at him, waiting for a response. “Is everything alright with you?”

“I’m okay,” you said, shifting where you stood. “Just busy. Like I said.”

The two of you stared at each other, waiting for the other to say what they really wanted to. Never once in your life had you had a problem with communicating, but it felt like now, you were hitting a wall.

All he could do was try his best. If you didn’t want to answer him, he couldn’t make you.

“Okay,” he said, taking your hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and kissed your palm, then the inside of your wrist, before massaging the center of it. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to keep secrets from me. If anything…” he steadied himself for his next words. “If anything changes between us, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”

Your eyebrows creased, before understanding seemed to dawn upon you. “Kento,” you said, dropping his hand to come around the table to climb into his lap, placing your hands on both of his cheeks. “Kento, no.”

“You’ve just been a bit—”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and he couldn’t help but draw back into you, smile when you kissed him all over his face, pressing the affirmations into his skin. “I’m not trying to be distant, really. Things are just busy right now, I promise.” You curled your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and Nanami brought his arms around your hips, settling you on his thighs.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes softened at your frown, and he brushed his thumb under your shirt, grounding himself against your skin. “I love you.”

That put a smile back on your face, and you kissed him, whispering the same words against his lips.

Now, though he wasn’t so sure he believed what you were saying, as much as he wanted to. Maybe you were just busy at work, but you were certainly hiding something from him.

He knew that everyone had their secrets, but maybe it would’ve stung less if you’d just admitted you were hiding something from him.

The following week was the same routine, and as the workdays ended, Nanami saw you less and less each evening. You spent the majority of your time in the city center, and though you were often with your students, you were also with Gojo, and something about that fact was difficult to swallow.

Nanami felt a little sour that you never asked him to go too. He began to wonder if you were purposefully avoiding him, or if the students disliked him as much as he’d thought they did.

It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, and he didn’t want to be overbearing, to seem like he was the kind of man who wanted to control where you were going and spending your time with. He just wished you spared a little bit more of it for him, was all.  

He woke with that thought in his mind as he rolled over on the cold bed, reaching out to wrap his arms around you. When he realized the spot beside him was empty, he blinked himself awake wearily, adjusting his eyes to the dark.

The hall light was on, a yellow glow peeking through the cracks under the door, and he frowned as he heard the sound of your voice, low and hushed.

Nanami weighed his decision. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and though you often went to bed much later than him, a phone call at this time was pushing it. He climbed out of the bed, padding quietly over the door to see if he could catch a part of the conversation.

It felt like a breach of trust, and he didn’t want to seem like he was spying on you.

He pressed his ear to the door, waiting for your voice, though it was silent. Half a minute passed. His hands curled around the knob, and he shouldn’t be trying to listen in, he should just go out there and ask you if anything was wrong, and then—

“Gojo, I don’t know what to tell him.”

Nanami stopped, swallowing down his breath to still all noises from his body. He squeezed his fist tighter until his knuckles had gone pale, hearing you murmur under your breath. There were a lot of words he couldn’t catch, and he wrinkled his forehead, trying to catch a hint of context in what you were saying.

“I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out—”

Your voice dropped quiet again.

Nanami felt something fall in his chest as he released the doorknob. He was too tired to think about it rationally, and if he listened anymore, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He stepped away from the door, his lips etched permanently into a frown.

After Kento had fallen asleep, you’d grabbed your phone off the nightstand, going through the to-do list that you’d created for his birthday.

You hadn’t meant for it to get so out-of-hand. He didn’t usually like big celebrations, and he’d never made a big deal of his birthday in the past. Though in your eyes, that was exactly why you needed to do something different for him this year.

Things had been going so well, and from what you could tell, everyone in your close circle cared about him more than he realized. It was the only way you could think to show that to him.

You’d just wanted to do something special for him, and it had turned into long shopping trips with Satoru Gojo, and secretive meetings with your students to make sure everything went exactly as you’d planned it.

And things were going according to plan… Only, you were starting to feel like your attempts at secrecy were sabotaging your relationship, and you feared that Kento thought the worst of your late nights out and your newly formed friendship with Gojo.

It was obvious that you were lying, and every time he brought it up, he seemed to become even more doubtful of your actions.

You flipped the hallway light on, dialing Gojo’s number, feeling antsy in your own skin. After two rings, he answered, his voice groggy and obviously full of sleep.

“Hello?”

“Gojo,” you said in a panic, rubbing your hand over your face with a kind of distress that he couldn’t even see. “I don’t know what to tell him.”

A beat of silence as he gathered his thoughts. “What?”

You almost felt bad for waking him up, but part of this was his fault. He’d been insistent on being a part of the plan, and now, he needed to listen to your apprehensions about the entire situation. He hadn’t exactly been sneaky either.  

“Kento.” you said, pacing back and forth in the hallway, your voice rising to a high-pitched shriek, even as you tried to muffle your words. “He’s been asking me so many questions, and I’m so bad at coming up with answers. I’m seeming like a horrible person.”

Gojo hummed on the other line, and you hated how nonchalant he seemed about all of this. This was your relationship, and he was just sitting happily in his home, with the receipt for a cake that had cost way too much, and gifts for a man that had started to doubt you even cared about him at all. “Well…”

“Gojo,” you said his name again, sternly.

“Sorry.” He sighed. “Nanami’s a tough person to keep a secret from. Just keep telling him what you’ve been telling him: we’ve been assigned to more cases together, work is too busy, et cetera, et cetera. That’s fine.”

“But he knows that’s not true.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustration prickling at you. Either Kento was much too perceptive for his own good, or you were just awful at planning surprises. “I’m being too suspicious. I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out, then all the secrecy would have been for nothing.”

Gojo was silent on the other end of the other line. It seemed he was absolutely horrible at consoling you, unlike the man in the other room who was sleeping soundly, unbeknownst to the fact that you were doing this all for him. “Look, it’s only for a couple more days, right? You can keep the secret until then, can’t you?”

You swallowed, steeling yourself for one last week of misery. You weren’t sure you could continue to stand the look of disappointment on Kento’s face every time you did something out of character. “I guess so. Thanks.” You yawned, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. Goodnight.” He hung up, and you stared at the phone once more, trudging back into the other room.

You couldn’t help the guilt that had settled deep in your gut. Even if you were lying to Kento for something special, you knew how it looked on your end. You weren’t good at dispelling his accusations; every time you opened your mouth, you just incriminated yourself more.

You couldn’t wait until his birthday. Things would go back to normal, then, and he could finally see that everyone cared about him more deeply than he realized.

Rubbing your eyes with exhaustion, you crawled back into the space where you always slept. Although, this time, you realized Kento was not asleep like you’d left him but was blinking back at you with concern in his dark eyes.

You jumped, startled for a moment, before settling back down. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay.” He grasped your hand tightly, and you let him, let him drag you close in his arms as he curled around you. “Is something wrong?”

You tensed, and immediately realized that was a mistake. Fuck. You were so horrible at this. You should’ve just let Gojo and Itadori plan the entire thing, and maybe it would’ve been a disaster, but it also would’ve saved you a lot of unnecessary anxiety. “Everything’s fine.”

That didn’t exactly answer his question. Nanami turned on his side, the two of you staring face to face on the pillows. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes darting to each one of yours like he was trying to decipher a message. Then, he sighed. “Was… someone calling?”

“Just Gojo.”

“Gojo?” Nanami repeated, and though he seemed annoyed at the mention of him, at least he knew you were being honest about that. “Why the hell is Gojo calling you in the middle of the night?”

You blinked, realizing you actually had no good lie to cover that one. “Umm…” you played with Nanami’s hand, tracing the tendons and knuckles as he stared back at you patiently. “He wanted to know if I could cover for him in the morning. He’s… not feeling so well.”

You’d have to text him immediately so that he didn’t come to the school until later. Not that he would mind skipping out on a few hours of work, but even that didn’t seem to convince Kento. He opened his mouth, and shut it, as if trying to carefully put his words together. “That’s all?”

He said it in a way that made you think he was giving you an opening, like you had the option to tell him the truth if you wanted. Of course, you couldn’t reveal what you were hiding, but he didn’t know that.

You sighed, and smiled, kissing him as you curled your hands into his hair. “That’s all, Ken. I really am sorry I woke you up.”

Nanami stared back at you for a moment before forcing a smile, returning your kiss with all his fondness. He brushed your hair away from your face and kissed your cheeks before closing his eyes once more.

When the day of Nanami’s birthday arrived, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t panic if everything wasn’t perfect. He’d appreciate the sentiment, no matter what. Things didn’t have to go by the book for them to be meaningful.

Regardless, you went through your mental to-do sheet, made the final reservation for your dinner, and prayed that everything went as you intended.

Though you were usually not a morning person, you’d gotten up earlier than Kento to fix his coffee the way he always preferred, taking a quiet moment to still your excited nerves. When his usual alarm went off, at the same time every morning, you carried the mug back with you to the bedroom and smiled softly at his sleepy form.

You set the coffee down before he could fully gain consciousness, and sprang on top of him, peppering kisses all over his face until his surprise slowly melted, and he was hugging you tightly.

“Happy birthday.”

Kento smiled up at you groggily, his eyes still drooping with sleep as he curled a hand around your jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, hugging you tight as he whispered, “thank you,” the touch of the words barely there at all.

You relaxed in his presence, sitting back as you handed him the coffee, to which his expression grew even more gentle. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed you again on the forehead, making you melt, just as he always did.

“What do you want to do today?” you asked as you laid on his chest, staring up at him with every ounce of love you had to offer. “I have dinner reservations, but you’ve got all day until then.”

Nanami laughed, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. “It doesn’t matter. We can just spend it like any normal day.”

You frowned. “That’s not anything special. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s just a birthday.” He squeezed your arm before maneuvering you gently off of him so that he could sit up on the bed. “Besides, every moment I spend with you is special. I’m happy to just sit around and do nothing until dinner.” Kento seemed to notice your displeased expression, even though your heart had swelled at his comment. “Unless there was something you wanted to do instead…”  

He climbed out of the bed, taking one sip of the steaming coffee before setting it back down.

“It’s not my birthday.” You watched him gather his clothes up off the floor with a sigh, the muscles in his back clenching as he bent over. “I want to do what you want to do.”

“And I told you I didn’t care.” He smiled playfully at you, tugging his shirt on over his head. Then, he reached over and squeezed your hand, coming back to where you sat, your legs swung over the side of the mattress.

“Kento.” You pulled him back down with a pointed expression, your faces close, lips almost touching. “I’m serious.”

He stared back at you for a moment, before relenting. “Alright.” Kento bent down, kissing you once more before going into the bathroom. “Let me shower, and we’ll go get some breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Is that what you want to do?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Although you could tell he was amused by your insistence, he softened, his eyes melting into hearts as he turned. “That’s what I want to do. Happy?”

“Very.” You shoved him away, laughing. “Go take a shower. You’re not getting any younger.”

He rolled his eyes and retreated into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind him.

When the water started running and Kento was definitely in the shower, you hurriedly dialed Gojo’s number, begging him to pick up. After the third dial, when you were certain he wouldn’t answer, a short tone cut through the line.

“What’s wrong?” he answered, clearly amused. There was shuffling on the other end, and some sort of yelp. Your brows pinched together.

As you listened closely to make sure the shower water wouldn’t turn off unexpectedly, you frowned. Your leg shook with anticipation. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Gojo released a breath, though his voice grew mumbled on the other end. “Well, you normally only call me if you’re panicking about the birthday situation, so—”

There was a scream. You dragged your hand down your face, as he said something sharply to someone on the other side of the call.

“Gojo?”

“Yeah?” Another sound, this one of extreme pain. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re exorcising a curse right now.”

He paused, and then the sound stopped, everything going silent on his side. “Well… I’m not anymore.”

You wanted to say that you were shocked he’d bothered to pick up the phone at all, but… You weren’t, really. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Unfortunately, cursed spirits don’t know it’s Nanamin’s birthday, so they just keep coming.” He sighed. “What a bummer. If they were nicer, I’d invite them to the birthday party.”

You snorted. “Right. I’m certain Kento would love that.”

Gojo laughed. “So, what were you calling about? If it’s to panic over your much too long list of things for me to do, don’t worry. Everything’s in order.”

“Really? Did you wrap the presents?”

He hummed. “Megumi did.”

You closed your eyes, holding back a sigh. That was probably for the best, anyway. You’d never seen Gojo wrap a gift, but you weren’t sure how it’d look if he did. “Okay… What about the decorations?”

“Itadori is bringing those over once you two leave.”

A part of you wanted to get frustrated with him for doing absolutely nothing, but it wasn’t his fault he had to work, even if he’d promised to help you out. At least he was delegating the tasks. One way or another, it would get done. “Are you going to help him at all?”

“Have a little bit more faith in me than that. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“No I’m not. Did you get him a birthday card?”

“I think Maki offered to do that. And before you ask your next question, yes everyone’s going to be there on time. Kugisaki followed up with everyone.”

“Oh my god… Did you do anything, Satoru?”

“I picked up the cake.” A beat of silence. “Well, I haven’t yet. I’m going right now. I got a little side-tracked.”

He’d given you no reason to doubt him, really. But you were still afraid that something would go wrong, and you’d be left without a cake, in the middle of a very important birthday. “Fine, but just know that I’m texting Megumi in an hour to come check on you. I can only keep Kento out of the house for so long, so you need to make sure it’s perfect.”

“You got it, boss. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Once you’d sent Gojo the final list of things that needed to be done, you put your phone away, promising yourself that it would not be a point of stress while you were at dinner with Nanami. You’d reserved a table at his favorite restaurant and dressed up nicer than you had in a while.

After breakfast, the two of you meandered around the city for the rest of the day until your reservation, as you tried to think of anything that could keep him away from home. Worried that he would catch on, you continued to diffuse his concerns, kissing him with a smile as you pulled him along to the next place you could think of.

And though he’d protested, saying that you didn’t have to dedicate your entire day to him, you couldn’t think of another way that you’d want to be spending it.

When the evening started to fall, you made your way to the restaurant, and the phone buzzed in your bag. You gritted your teeth and ignored it.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go home?” Kento asked you, swinging your hand in his between the two of you. Neither of you had ever been big on public displays of affection, but holding hands through the streets was one of the nicest feelings you’d come to experience. “We have time.”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, and he eyed you curiously, almost stopping in his tracks. “We better get there early, just in case. Don’t you think?”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but then nodded, squeezing your hand. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be early.” He smiled, humming to himself happily. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this for me today.”

“I wanted to. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” You laughed, but for some reason, there was uncertainty behind his eyes. You felt the phone buzzing more and more in your pocket.

The restaurant was packed, and even though you were early to your reservation, they got you seated immediately.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Did I already tell you that?” Nanami said once you were seated.

You flushed, your cheeks growing warm as he stared at you across the table with gentle, brown eyes. “Thanks, Kento,” you said in a quiet voice, knowing that you’d looked much better earlier, when your hair had been perfect, and your makeup hadn’t smudged. Your dress now had some wrinkles, and you were sweating with nerves and the heat outside.

He glanced down at the menu, perusing it, even though he got the same thing every time. You ordered a bottle of wine to split between the two of you.

The server brought the alcohol back and poured it, then took your order back to the kitchen. When Nanami ordered, you dropped your chin in your hands, watching him, distracted by the very sight of him.

He nodded at the younger girl politely, and she grew pink, scurrying off to the next room. Kento looked back at you as you laughed and started up another conversation. You talked about school and work and everything in between, the mood only shattering when you felt the incessant buzz of the phone in your pocket.

You were in the middle of a story, but your sentences started to blend together into something that didn’t make sense. You stumbled over what you were saying, feeling the weight of the phone in your pocket as you tried to refocus on your words, but remained distracted.

The phone buzzed again in your pocket. You gritted your teeth. Fucking Gojo Satoru and his idiotic brain—you’d told him not to contact you.

“Is everything alright?” Kento blinked as you took your phone out and set it in your purse.  

“I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated, thoughtful as he swallowed a sip of wine. “Well, I don’t want you to get in any trouble if it’s work.”

“I took off today. If they can’t handle two sorcerers being gone, then they’ve got bigger problems.”

Nanami sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. “I guess that’s true. Speaking of work, I—"  

The phone buzzed louder, then there was a pause. It buzzed again. You cringed.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”

The phone started ringing.

You were close to throwing the bag altogether, and probably would’ve, if it hadn’t been one of the most expensive accessories you owned. Nanami looked down at the bag, then back at you, eyebrows raised.

“Honey…” he said, eyes gesturing to the phone. “Just answer it.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and you dug your phone out of the bag, Megumi Fushiguro’s name was bold as it lit up on the screen. You held it tightly in your hand and began to stand, feeling sick and horrible and wondering if all the secrecy had just ruined his birthday. “I’m so sorry Kento—"

He shrugged; his voice was solid with gentle patience. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

You nodded, and waited until you were out of earshot to answer the phone, feeling horrible about leaving him all by himself. Once you were in the bathroom, locked in one of the stalls, you answered. “Hello?”

“Itadori dropped the cake.”

You took a breath before answering Megumi’s calm remark, wondering how close you actually were to snapping. “What.”

In the background, the pink-haired boy wailed over and over, loud cries that were, clearly, full of remorse. “It was an accident!” He shouted over Kugisaki’s berating, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, because that was the last thing you’d expected to happen.

“Itadori dropped the cake,” Megumi repeated, flatly, like you hadn’t gotten it the first time. “It’s all over the floor. Kugisaki’s trying to get him to clean it up, but it’s just making him even more miserable.”

You covered a hand over your mouth, wondering why your eyes were welling up with frustrated tears. Things were not going the way you’d planned. “Is Gojo there yet?”

“Yeah.” Megumi hesitated, and there was a pause, like he was unsure what to do now that he finally had you on the phone. “Want me to put him on?”

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see you, and muttered, “yes.” Within a moment, the older man, currently in charge of three teenagers, was on the line.

“This may or may not be Gojo,” he said, and you were glad that he at least had enough intelligence to sound nervous.

“Satoru.” You tried hard not to panic. “Please, please can you try and find another cake? I know it’s late, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stall here. I’m trying so hard not to be suspicious, but I’m horrible at it.”

“I can try, but—"

“Kento already thinks I’m acting weird, and he keeps asking me questions that I’m doing a very bad job of answering. I feel awful because it’s his birthday, and I’m afraid he thinks I’m just getting ready to split up with him or something.”

“Ouch.” Gojo said dramatically, hissing like he’d been stung. “That’d be a bit of an asshole move, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, I’m obviously not going to do that!” You scrubbed your hands over your face. “He seemed upset today, and I just don’t want all of this to go to waste. Please, Satoru. It doesn’t matter what the cake looks like, but just make sure that you get something, so that—"

“Hey,” he said, dropping the theatrics when you choked back a sob. His tone grew serious. “Take a deep breath. I think you’re forgetting who we’re dealing with here.”

“What do you mean?” You blinked, dabbing your eyes, hoping that your mascara wouldn’t smear.

“Nanami is going to appreciate the gestures, even if they aren’t perfect.”

You inhaled and exhaled, realizing that Satoru was right. Out there was a man that you loved very much, who loved you in return, and this was not as serious as you were making it out to be. “You’re right.”

“Obviously. Enjoy your dinner. I can take care of it.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like a warzone in the background.”

“Everything’s fine,” Gojo swore, even if you didn’t entirely believe him. “I told Megumi not to call you, but he loves getting me in trouble. Please, don’t worry about it.”

You opened your mouth, but Gojo had already hung up.

As you left the stall, you sighed, seeing yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red with unshed tears, but you’d already made Kento wait long enough.

Twitching nervously, you headed back to the table. Nanami was sitting patiently, scrolling through something mindlessly on his phone.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you sat back down, noticing the signs of tears and misery. He reached for you across the table, but then thought better of it, and just frowned.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just really sorry, Kento.” You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s your birthday. I want you to enjoy it.”

A beat of silence passed. He smiled. “I am enjoying it.” He did reach for your hand, then, and pulled it tight against his own. “This has been the best birthday, sweetheart. Why are you upset?”

You swallowed. “I’m not upset.” You shook your head, trying to clear the unhappiness from your expression. “Anyways, what were you saying? I interrupted.”

Nanami’s face fell. You’d changed the subject so quickly; he hadn’t had the chance to ask you any more questions. “Right. Well, nothing important. I just have to be in Kyoto next week.”

You frowned. “All week?”

He nodded. “I wanted to let you know in case you wanted to make plans. You’ve been...” he paused, thinking over his words. “Seeing Gojo a lot lately, so I thought you might want to—”

You stared at him, and realized what he was getting at. Fuck, you felt so horrible. “Oh,” you said, scratching your wrist under the table. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m sure he’ll be busy too.”

That wasn’t the answer Nanami was looking for. He stopped, and then regrouped, nodding. “Well, either way, I wanted you to know. They didn’t give me advanced notice.”

You smiled tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only for a few days,” he said, releasing your hand to place it back onto his lap. “But I’m going to miss you too.” There was something distant in his voice when he said it.

On the way home from the restaurant, Gojo texted you obnoxiously, sending you pictures of the house, the cleanliness of it, the set-up of the gifts, the new cake, and you smiled to yourself, somewhat relieved that things weren’t a complete disaster.

You could feel Kento’s eyes on you as he drove home, his hand resting on your thigh as you turned slightly away from him, keeping his eyes off the screen.

Stop sending me things before he sees my phone.

Gojo’s response was much too quick.

Stop looking at your phone.

You sighed, clicking the screen off and finally relaxing against the window. The secrecy was almost over; you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep this all hidden without causing so much dramatic suspicion.

Nanami pulled into park in front of your home, squeezing your leg gently before releasing it. You expected him to make a move to get out of the car, but instead he sat, contemplative, the key still in the ignition.

You swallowed, looking at him. “Is everything okay?”

He took a breath, turning back to you with some sort of determination in his eyes. “Have I done something to upset you?” he asked, his voice so incredibly gentle.

“What?” you said, laughing nervously. “Why would you ask that?”

His face fell as he looked back at the steering wheel. “I just thought this would be easier if I’d hurt you in some way.”

Your mouth grew dry. You reached for him. “Kento—”

“Look,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair, the strands coming loose, falling onto his forehead. “I’m not trying to… I don’t want to…” His words fell off, and though you knew what he was trying to say, you didn’t want him to say it, because there was no reason for it. “If something’s wrong, I just want to know. Let’s at least try to fix it.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise.” You squeezed his hand, trying to pull away from him. “Can we talk about this inside?” You started to get out of the car.

“No, wait.” He stopped you again, eyes wide with disappointment, like he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “This is what happens every time. I ask you about it, then you find a way to spin my words around so that we never talk about it. I let you every time, because I love you, and I trust you, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart squeezed. “Kento.” You began, feeling bad that you were forced to talk in circles just to get him to believe in your lies. “I promise, we’ll talk about it inside. It’s still your birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it by misunderstanding one another. Please, let’s talk about it once we’re both settled in.”

Nanami’s shoulders stiffened, then deflated, but he didn’t let go of you. “There’s not… Someone else, is there?”

“Of course not.” You said fervently, kissing his hand. “God, Ken. You think I’d want anyone else when I’ve got you?”

He smiled, though it was half-hearted.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll explain everything. I owe you that much.”

You led him into the house, holding his hand tightly, hoping that this went over as you intended. Beside you, he was still contemplative, flicking on the lights as you continued into your home.

“You know, I really think we should still—”

As the lights came on, his words were cut off by some variation of everyone yelling happy birthday, and he blinked back at the students he’d recently met, and all the sorcerers he’d worked with closely in the previous years. His jaw opened, then shut, then he looked at you, then back to Gojo, and you could see the understanding in his features before he’d expressed it, when everything clicked into place.

A moment of silence passed where Nanami said nothing, and then Itadori decided to fill that silence with very off-key singing, and Kento’s cheeks dusted light pink, barely visible in the light, as he squeezed your hand tighter.

Everyone made the rounds, greeting him with varying levels of enthusiasm, while Nanami just thanked them with quiet politeness, even though you could see that he was secretly pleased, his lips curling up into a smile, the signs of stress dissipating from his features.

Itadori approached with a poorly wrapped gift and a hug that Nanami didn’t quite return, but he didn’t push away, either.

Nanami took the gift, holding it with soft eyes like he’d been given something precious. “Thank you, Yuuji. This is very kind.”

“You’re welcome.” Itadori said back proudly, smiling smugly at his two friends over his shoulder, obviously proud that he’d gotten such praise. “It’s probably going to be the best gift you’ll get tonight.”

You could see Nanami trying to refrain from laughing, but he snorted instead. “Is this why you were asking me about all those things that I liked a few weeks ago?”

“Uhh…” Yuuji smiled sheepishly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “No! Not really. But… Maybe.” He sighed. “I’d thought you’d forget about that.”

Kento’s eyes crinkled at the corner, and he squeezed Itadori’s shoulder, clearly touched.

You kissed his cheek and left him alone to talk with everyone that came to visit, going to thank Gojo and the students that had helped you over the past few weeks.

An hour passed before you found Kento again, after the cake had been cut and Gojo had insisted he opened one of the many gifts he’d gotten him.

He was standing in the kitchen, staring at a pile of wrapped gifts and the sliced cake that wasn’t exactly what you’d intended, but had received the same reaction, nonetheless.

“Kento?” you said quietly, and though you could tell that he was appreciative of everyone, you still weren’t sure how the surprise had gone over. He turned to you, his sleeves rolled up, a few more strands of blond hair coming loose. His cheeks were flushed, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been lying—”

Kento was to you in two long strides, backing you into a wall before kissing you deeply. Your hands curled into his hair, and you hummed into his mouth with a smile as his hands rested on your hips.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered against your mouth. “I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to ridiculous conclusions.”

You laughed, kissing him again and again, feeling things finally ease back into normalcy. “I know how it looked—” He looked away, embarrassed that he’d even thought of the possibility that you would leave him for Gojo. “I’m sorry I was so suspicious.” You sighed, leaning back in his arms as you held his cheeks with both hands. “Were you surprised?”

“I wish I wasn’t. It was pretty obvious now that I think back on it.”

“But…”

“But, yes,” he said, kissing your forehead as you preened, proud that it had all pulled together in the end. “I was surprised.” He gave you one last kiss, whispering, “thank you” and “I love you” on your lips.

From behind the door, you heard shuffling, and opened your eyes to see Gojo snapping a picture, to which Nanami groaned, pushing himself away from you reluctantly.

Gojo grinned, “Sorry. I’ll let myself out. Didn’t realize you two lovebirds were in here,” he said, even though he most certainly did.

“Please do,” Nanami gestured in the direction of the front door. “I hate the fact that you even know where I live.”

Gojo’s face fell. “After everything I did for your birthday, and you’re still going to pretend you don’t like me?”

“I don’t.” Nanami sighed, before swallowing down whatever antagonist words he really wanted to say. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Gojo beamed—you intervened before he could even think to throw his arms around Kento.

[just-zy]

My Miss President (II)

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader!

summary: Jenna was never the type to fall for someone like Y/N, someone who'd always end up in fights, someone you'd often see doing stupid things outside the school premises, someone who always look so arrogant but is an absolute sweetheart. Jenna wasn't into those, considering she's what the school calls 'Ms. President' aka, Miss Perfect. She'd never, right?

A/N: I got the part 2!! yeahh!! (still third pov!)

Warnings!: fluffy..

part 1 || Masterlist

Rummaging your hair as you get on your well neated bed, nestling your face on the smooth fabric of your pillow, sighing tiredly.

You weren't really expecting Jenna to be in school the next day. You'd hope she felt the same way you did, or that kiss on the cheek she'd done to you was sincerely a platonic appreciation for getting her home and defending her. Tonight, you really wished it wasn't, but if it were the other way around, you didn't really mind.

But, no matter how hard you deny it, you didn't want your relationship to be just platonic, honestly, you wanted more, you've liked her ever since freshman year. And now, you're both in your Juniors, nothing's changed.

It was all the same cycle really, you go and start havoc while she cleans your mess, you hadn't thought about it that way until now.

You groaned as you sat up from your futon, it didn't look as messy as it would normally look, you couldn't sleep, you hadn't really bee moving much, so you decided to head in the living room and watch some television.

1:47

As you set your gaze on the clock, you let out a tired sigh. You should've been asleep 4 hours ago.

The television wasn't helping either, if anything it was making your head throb, with each passing romance every now and then.

"It just had to be romance."

You turned the tv off and tossed the remote on the couch cushion, heading back to your room.

2:32

Sleep was finally kicking in, staring right at the window did help, the glistening glass helped ease your nerves, you didn't know how, but it did.

★

Making your way to school late because you knew Jenna wasn't going, was setting you in a bad mood. Jordan stopped you in the hallway to talk, apologizing to you, when in all honesty it made your blood boil, you snapped at him, reprimanding him that he'd basically apologized to the wrong person, because the only rightful person he should be apologizing to is Jenna.

You sneered at him and gave him the finger before leaving him by the lockers, with his 'two goons' by his side.

Leaving was the only right decision on your list, while everything else consisted of violence and payback.

First period was shit, so was the second period, also free period, then the fourth and so on..

You really just wanted to get back home and pay Jenna a visit.

After the bell rang, you bolted out of your seat with your bag halfway closed, but you couldn't care less, you were freaking out, you didn't know what to say, you didn't know what to do, what were you supposed to say? What's the right thing to say!

You got a glimpse of her front yard, the sight almost making you slip from the roads curb, maybe then you'd both match fractured ankles.

Knocking on the door lightly, waiting for someone to answer the door.

You hadn't really expected Jenna to open the door, after all, she just had her ankle broken. But, there she was, honestly with every second passing by, the prettier she gets.

"Hey Y/N, uh- what're your doing here?" Jenna lightheartedly chuckled, she didn't expect visitors.

"I– uh came to check up on you.. How's your foot? I mean- ankle– uhm!- Same thing.." You weren't always awkward around Jenna, if anything you always had your head up, but this time felt different, you felt giddy all over and really flustered. She laughed, only because you were acting goofy, which was new. "My ankle's fine, I'm fine. I'll be back in school in a day or two, it doesn't hurt as much anymore."

Why's my palm sweating, why's it suddenly so hot, why's she looking at me like that? Is something wrong with my face—

"Y/N, seriously, are you good? You've been acting weird since you've got here.."

Fuck it.

"I like you, Jenna. Like– like you."

Jenna didn't know what to say, does she say she likes you too? Or say something else? Or do something!..

Love is something scary, she knew that, both of them did, but it'd all be worth it with the person you felt like home with, you both did feel that way towards eachother. If anything, Jenna wants you to hold her till she falls asleep.

She got up earlier today, thinking about you, about how you carefully set her down last night, how you held her with care, and last night with the kiss she gave you?

She missed.

So, she let her eyes roam around your face, to your now creased brows, your lightly scrunched up nose, to your eyes that held such dread, then she gazed on the skin her lips made contact with.

"Sorry– I missed last night."

She said, as her hand caress your cheek.

"What—?"

Before you even had to question, she already had her lips connected with yours.

She didn't miss this time.

______+______

A/N: tagging for those who wanted a pt2!!

Taglist: @jusnough @pikachooo3

[drdemonprince]

I just read your piece on mindfulness, I was really touched by your authenticity in sharing how much it just sucks to exist in the world as an autistic person. I relaize I had defensively rejected the idea of mindfulness without really stopping to learn what it's really about, and your article was so enlightening. Your honesty in sharing how rough a time you had really drove home the fact that mindfulness is really about completely immersing yourself the rawness of the human experience. Personally, I find joy easily and I find that I'm often mindful about the positive, appealing, beautiful aspects of the world. I have a much, much harder time dealing with discomfort and suffering (except in kink!). I have a tendancy to shut out everything uncomfortable, especially painful stimulation, "negative" feelings, and the people around me. Your piece inspired me to challenge myself to be mindful while overstimulated, triggered, and extremely anxious in a grocery store (aka hell on earth). Spoiler alert: it really really sucked. But, I definitely processed a lot more of what was going on in my mind, and my body. I noticed how tense I felt in my chest, and learned how it took hours for it to dissipate. I noticed how busy it was in the store, and how the narrow aisles and close proximity to other people made me agitated and scared. I know now what will happen if I go there again at that time of day, and can adjust my plans to shop there again accordingly. I noticed the ache of the trauma shrapnel in my mind, and I percepted that just beyond my reach parts of me were processing and feeling really difficult things. I know that if I listen enough I will learn what is going on, and be able to process it consciously. The last thing I noticed was at the check-out. At this point I was desperately trying to escape so I was practically flinging my items into my backpack. I was completely overwhelmed by the chaos I felt in my being. But when I paused to pay, my attention shifted outwards. I realized how kind the cashier had been to me. I knew from her body language and tone of voice that she understood that I was having a hard time. She was so empathetic and kind during such a short interaction, at the end of her shift, towards someone who could barely look at her. I was so touched, and have thought of her every day since. Thank you for your article. I can't wait to notice, and feel, and learn more, into perpetuity.

Wow. This is beautiful. This is exactly how I experienced embracing mindfulness to better understand my own sensory issues and overwhelm, after years of rejecting the idea as stupid, woo-woo, and unpleasant. Attending to all the ways in which your environment is disabling you is PAINFUL, but it really can generate a ton of insight. When we know exactly what is triggering us, and what is moving the needle up and down, we can self-regulate by making tiny adjustments that make the painful a little more bearable. And then we get to appreciate little oases of peace and grace, like the one you experienced with the cashier. So lovely. Thank you for sharing this with me. <3

Here is the piece, for those who didn't see it:

[pollenallergie]

Best friend!Eddie Headcanon(s) ft. Reefer Rick

aka Eddisms: The Reefmix

Reefer Rick doesn’t just supply Eddie with drugs to deal, he also offers Eddie his illegal bootleg copies of movies that are only out in theaters to Eddie for a discounted price.

Rick calls it the “employee discount,” but, considering Eddie is his only dealer at the moment, it might as well just be the “Eddie discount.”

You and Eddie have weekly movie nights. Typically, you rent movies from Family Video for these movie nights like good, morally upstanding citizens. However, once a month, you two indulge in the contraband and have a bootleg movie night wherein you watch whatever new, pirated flicks Rick has to offer.

On these nights, you forgo your weekly trip to family video but still head to the closest convenience store to get snacks because junk food is a necessity for movie nights.

Then, Eddie heads to Reefer Rick’s place to “rent” the flicks from him, leaving you back at the trailer to get everything set up for your movie night, much to your chagrin. You kinda hate that Eddie never brings you along with him to run his “errands,” mostly because you hate being left out. It’s not like you actually want to be involved in his illicit activities, but it still sucks to be excluded. Nevertheless, you prepare the spread of junk food, order the pizza, and transform the Munsons’ living room into the ultimate, cozy movie night cove.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s at Rick’s, buying the films and some weed for personal consumption, a movie night must-have. Unfortunately, such an exchange also involves shooting the shit with Rick for about an hour because he’s the only man who can out-chatterbox Eddie. These conversations usually involve Rick, who thinks of himself as Eddie’s mentor, giving the youngest Munson life advice that he definitely didn’t ask for and ranting about whatever sociopolitical issues he’s been hyper-focusing on lately, such as the military-industrial complex, the bullshit War on Drugs, really, any mostly-valid-yet-still-a-bit crackpot anti-establishment rhetoric you can think of, Ricks probably spewing it at Eddie. Honestly, these conversations are more like scatterbrained lectures; the kind filled with lots of ‘um’s and long pauses, the kind where Rick forgets what he’s talking about after a while and jarringly switches topics, starting a new lecture entirely without giving poor Eddie so much as a subtle verbal cue.

After retrieving the films and robotically nodding along to these scatterbrained lectures, Eddie returns to the trailer and is immediately accosted by your incessant complaining about the fact that he never lets you go with him to pick up stuff from Rick’s. At this point, your grumbling is part of the routine.

Of course, Eddie’s always quick to remind you that it’s not about wanting you to “sit at home and play housewife” for him (your go-to accusation, you little feminist you), but that he simply doesn’t trust Rick around you because, in Eddie’s words, Rick’s “sketchy” and “a total perv.”

In all honesty, Rick’s harmless; a drug dealer/supplier who has no qualms with dealing to minors, but otherwise harmless. Rick’s nothing more than a stoner punk with access to semi-decent weed that is somehow both a genius and a being that completely lacks common sense, hence why Eddie’s unofficial PoliSci professor has been caught by Hawkin’s PD a few times.

The real reason Eddie doesn’t want you around Rick is that he’s intimidated by him. More specifically, Rick is a fucking hot, with his various tattoos and anti-establishment ideals. He’s about ten years your senior, though the way he somehow balances tranquil maturity with enough oddball immaturity makes him seem five or six years younger than he actually is. Not to mention, he’s just educated enough to have some semi-intellectual conversations (Rick went to college at Purdue and flunked out during his junior year because he spent too much time partying and doing drugs), but he’s also somehow dumb enough for it to be sort of endearing, likely as a result of all the hard drugs killing his brain cells or whatever. Truthfully, Rick’s oddly charming in ways that Eddie doesn’t think he ever could be (little does Eddie know, he’s his own brand of oddly charming, and his type of charm has already made you fall for him), and, well, that scares the shit out of Eddie because, in his eyes, Rick is exactly the type of guy that could steal you away from him before he ever even gets the chance to tell you, his best friend, how hopelessly in love with you he is. No, no way, not happening. Therefore, Eddie’s decided that you can never ever find out who Reefer Rick actually is and you can certainly never meet him. Eddie can’t prevent the two of you from crossing paths in the grocery store, but he can prevent you two from ever properly meeting and talking to each other.

Anyways… Once Eddie has amply reassured you that you didn’t miss out on anything and that he’s not leaving you behind because you’re not a dude, he pops in one of the flicks, coaxes you onto the couch, and snuggles up with you as the two of you prepare to watch a really shitty quality version of a movie that you two are honestly indifferent to (hence why you two aren’t going to see it in theaters) and that, for some reason, has large, bold, poorly-translated Turkish subtitles on it.

[eirikrjs]

UPDATE 9/2/23

Wow, it's almost fall and I'm still kickin', so here's a proper update about what's been going on with me. I do feel great most days, and with Halloween in season around the US, it makes me very happy. As far as stroke recovery goes, my leg has a newly made brace and my walking in general has greatly improved the past few months. I really don't roll my left foot anymore, in other words, my foot can go flat instead of landing on the ankle and possibly causing injury.

My arm is still mostly nothing but a couple weeks back I was able to move my shoulder again so there's hope. I also got a home electrical stimulation device so I give my arm and hand a jolt for an hour everyday. With time, I feel confident i'll recover.

A great help with my recovery has been the amazing @dagdasgoddess , a fellow young stroke survivor who has been watching out for me and offering encouragement every day for a couple months now, exactly when I needed it. Mentally, stroke recovery is pretty damn tough but most days I feel positive about it, with great thanks to her.

And now on to some business. Shortly before my stroke I was planning on celebrating the 10th anniversary of my blog (which would have been in December of last year, but I was still in the hospital, obviously...) And one of the things I was going to do was photograph and review all the smt demon figures I have, using my special diorama table. I got around to starting the project a couple weeks before the stroke, naturally starting with the Leonard figure. Here's one of the pics:

I also made something of an anniversary banner, just because, I guess:

I also want to talk about some milestones reached, starting with some follower counts. By December last year I finally surpassed 2k followers, so thank you so very much. This is after Kanekos Crib Notes quickly dwarfed my own blog followers shortly after its establishment in like 2014. But now my own blog is even ahead of kcn, as undoubtedly its current annual schedule limits its growth and reach. (But hey, it's almost October, aka KCN MONTH)

The last milestone is above: my Stealing Knowledge blogger has reached half a million views! Unbelievable, thanks for reading and sharing over the years! Identity crisis part 3 remains the most viewed, with over 50k on its own.

Finally, I want to talk about the future. Another 10th anniversary plan was to try and monetize the blog somehow, probably via a Patreon for new articles and such and many other ideas, maybe even doing YouTube videos to answer asks instead of them being all text. I have lots of other ideas too, but they'll have to wait until my arm works again. So instead of monetizing the future, for now I'm just going to ask y'all kindly to chip in for the blog's past. I'm amazed at how much activity the blog still generates from--let's call it "legacy content".

To that end, I have set myself up a kofi account where you can show your appreciation for that "legacy", kuwabara, kuwabara, if you'd like. All money earned will go towards paying down bills accrued during my recovery, like my hyperbaric treatments. In perfect honesty, it's been around 3000 US dollars so far. Don't feel obligated to contribute and thank you all for still sticking around with me despite my relative inactivity. And if course, continue keeping @sorenblr busy if you wish.

I would also not expect my own recovery before next year, that's just stroke for you. Thank you all!!!!!

p.s. I was featured as a stroke survivor again on another therapy facebook post:

[murderedbyhomework]

Found this extract of the novel somewhere so now it’s everyone’s problem

translation: He (Li Lianhua) had experienced uncountable tribulations and endless, unceasing pain and strife in his life, had seen all kinds of abnormal things ordinary people could hardly imagine, had cursed and resented and hated and raged, but he had rarely ever been afraid of anything.

The fearful reaction began fadig away after 2 hours. In all honesty, it wasn’t any weird noise that had frightened his wits out of him (1), it was merely the aftereffects of Di Feisheng’s strike/palm (2) finally starting to act up

(Notes:

1. 魂不守舍 literally translated is one’s soul no longer guarding their body, i’m not the best at translating so i chose the closest phrase i could think of

掌 literally translated means palm, but what it actually refers to is a strike/blow, like when Di Feisheng struck Fang Duobing to inject gang qi into him, that would be a ‘palm’ from dfs, aka a blow/strike)

[dk-wren]

Buddy Daddies Week - Papa Rei's Onigiris

Welcome to Day 6 of my Buddy Daddies anniversary celebration week! I am so excited for today (even though it got a little delayed) as I present to you...my attempt at Rei's onigiris from ep. 9!

In all honesty, it's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. And I'm so glad I finally had the time and special occasion to do it! Since episode 9 premiered, I always thought Rei's choice of filling sounded different, but good. Maybe that just says something about my taste buds/food preferences. I don't know.

Anyways, the three fillings I used in my onigiri were based on what Miri, Hinata, and Kotori described in theirs. So, I used strawberry jam, Choco Rings (aka chocolate Cheerios), and grape gummies. I don't think it was specified what flavor of gummies was in Kotori's onigiri, but based on what I thought would taste or pair the best, I went with grape.

Here are my "ingredients:"

I made about a half a cup(?) of rice and was able to make 5 rice balls (of varying sizes). In the end, I made 2 rice balls with Choco rings, 2 with the grape gummy, and 1 with strawberry jam. Here's a cross section of a rice ball with Choco rings as I was attempting to shape it.

After I finished making/shaping the onigiris, I let them sit for an hour to cool down before putting the nori on it.

And finally...the finished product!

But how did they taste, you might ask? Well I got you!

I tried the Choco rings onigiri first because that was the one I thought I would like the best. In all honesty, I was a little let down. I think it was a personal/"chef" error because I forgot to let the rice cool down before making them. As a result, the cereal got soggy, so it didn't have a crunch, which would have added to the its distinctness. Likewise, because it got soggy, I think the cereal lost most of its flavoring since I snacked on some beforehand and could definitely taste the chocolate flavoring. There was a bit of sweetness when taking a bite with a large concentration of the cereal, but otherwise the cereal to rice ratio was not that great (and I was left mostly with rice with a hint of sweetness). Final ranking - 3rd

The second one I tried was the strawberry jam onigiri, which I thought would be my least favorite. Perhaps it was because I was let down by the choco ring one, but this was one ended up being my second favorite. This onigiri was on the larger side, but I was able to (unintentionally) spread the jam more evenly across the whole rice ball. This meant every bite had a bit of sweetness to it, and towards the center, I could really taste the strawberry flavor. What was even better was when I got a bite of the rice, nori, and jam. The flavors of each part mixed pretty well and created a pleasant taste.

The last onigiri I tried was the grape gummy one. This one ended up being my favorite. The ratio of rice to gummy was really good, and the grape flavor was really strong. That being said, because of consistency of the gummy compared to the rice, I was left with more gummy at the end of my bite.

Final Ranking:

Grape gummy onigiri

Strawberry jam onigiri

Choco Ring onigiri

.

.

.

Thank you for reading about my attempt to recreate Papa Rei's onigiris and indulging in my chaos with me! I genuinely had such a fun time doing this.

On another note, based on my personal struggles/difficulties that came up while making these, I can somewhat understand how the rice balls got their shape. If Rei made them with the inexperience I did, he might have not waited for the rice to cool before making the rice balls. Thus, trying to make them round or give it any type of shape became difficult. Likewise, each topping messed with the shape in comparison to how much rice there was for that specific onigiri.

Thank you again for reading and following along as I attempt to cook/make something (I am not a cook by any means and I think everything above supports that claim)!

-Dakota Wren

[fabbyf1]

POLL TIME, BESTIES.

How are we feeling about WIPs these days?

Honesty hour: I have never posted a WIP on my AO3 account.

Personally, I don't read WIPs. I've been reading fanfiction for so long and have been burned so many times by WIPs that never get finished. So, as a general rule, I don't read a WIP unless it's written by someone I know.

Additionally, I never want to feel like I'm letting anybody down. Posting a WIP is scary because writer's block comes on fast and hard, and sometimes you don't see it coming. I never want to feel like I let you down by making you wait for ages between chapters.

But with that being said, I've decided this lestappen fic I'm working on (tag: #mastermind fic) deserves to be more than a PWP. I'm obsessed with the plot and these characters I've built, and I want to do them justice by giving them the life they deserve. I don't want to rush it and post it as a PWP and then be stuck mourning what it could have been.

But... writing takes time lmfao. I can't just whip out a 70k fic like I used to.

I don't know how often I can post chapters because, again, I want to take my time with them, but I am writing and thinking about this story nonstop. I've roughly mapped out the story chapter by chapter and know all the major plot points that I want to hit. I know the beginning, the middle, and the ending. The first chapter is ready to go.

So, my question to you all would be:

i promise i won't be offended by the results of this poll LMFAO. i get that not everyone likes to read wips. (aka: me.)

[princeasimdiya12]

What do you think will be the happy outcome for the teacher at the cat cafe? Doesn't seem like he's okay this episode what with how he's become obsessed with Jasmine-chan, unwilling to let anyone have her.

In all honesty anon, I'm not really sure what the outcome will be anymore. Episode 9 teased us with a happy reconciliation only for Episode 10 to provide some conflict with Jasmine being too busy to see the Teacher. And with the twisted development of the Teacher wanting to keep Jasmine all to himself makes this feel like the outcome won't be a happy one. Worse case scenario is that the Teacher will cut ties with Jasmine.

And while we're on the subject, I might as well analyze what's going on in the crazy world of Nyan Nyaight Love.

Episode 11: The Outstanding Darkness of Night

Part 1: Someone Get the Manager

So the Customer aka the Teacher is back at NNL. But the biggest and most concerning of changes, is his lack of comedic reactions. In all previous segments, the Teacher was always a jittery mess who struggled to go into the place and only went in because a passing character scared him in. But this time, he goes in without a reaction regardless of the Siguma Squad boys passing by. He's not even phased or freaks out when the Receptionist welcomes him in.

Something to note is how the Receptionist has turned back to his usual chipper self when welcoming the Teacher. He does the same song and dance he's done since the first Episode like nothing's changed.

Relating to my previous interpretations, this comes off as a defying the parallel of the delinquents the Receptionist normally represents. He's back to his welcoming self while the bad boys are experiencing their Darkest Hour. If only he was there when the red flags popped out.

The downward spiral, the grim tone of the Teacher, the dark lighting of the establishment sign. All of it fits well with the new dark tone of the Episode as it lacks the usual comedy or light-hearted moments to focus more on the intense drama of Matakara's corruption.

The downward spiral of the sign gives the impression that everything is going out of control and the world is falling over it's head. This could parallel the current status of the three gangs that were featured in the story. All three were introduced as powerful, influential and fully of life and debauchery. But after everything that's happened, the once prosperous gangs have started to lose their power and came crashing down.

The NG Boys are no longer a functioning gang after the Gang War mixed with the Emperor losing his status among them. They're not even shown doing anything to keep their gang alive despite some casual hang outs.

Siguma Squad was gravely shaken by the loss of their leader Marito with several flunkies even worrying if the gang can still function without him.

And Minato Kai is at an absolute loss not only for Kenichirou losing to Matakara but by the fact that one of their own would turn rogue and brutalize everyone. And just like SS, there's no doubt going to be a power struggle over Kenichirou losing to one of his disciples.

All in all, the established order of the gangs is losing control and changing for the worst. While some of the bad boys are willing to endure the change (like Outa promising to keep SS afloat) there are some who aren't taking it very well (everyone else).

Part 2: Don't Lose Your Waaaay!

As for the Teacher's grim and creepy demeanor to Jasmine, it's the most puzzling to figure out and what it's supposed to represent/foreshadow. But in this case, I think he's supposed to parallel both Arajin and Matakara.

In regards to Arajin, it could be him showing concern over Matakara fighting the other banchos in the recent episodes. Though he isn't losing his mind over it, it is something that's worrying him and driving him to intervene to keep Matakara from losing his body to Ichiya. He doesn't even think about Mahoro or how badly he'll get hurt if he tries to intervene.

But the losing his mind could be a possible reference to him accepting the consequences of merging with Senya. While Senya did promise to give his body back to him, there's a high probability of death with Arajin using his full power to save Matakara from a similar fate only for it to happen to him at the battle's end. Something about giving up his body and soul for someone he loves and what not.

And for the Teacher is paralleling Matakara, the creepy and unsettling demeanor could fit with Matakara . While the Teacher was always seen as a sad, strange little man, he was ultimately a harmless guy with a kink for cats. But now he's become an obsessive creep who longs to make Jasmine his and his only. The same fits with Matakara once being a friendly sunshine puppy boy who only fought when provokes only to become a ruthless Punchy McFisticuffs who's driven to be as strong as possible in order to beat his former friend Arajin. Making Arajin "all to himself" fits with Matakara being driven by defeating his old friend once he finishes beating every delinquent in the area. And thanks to Ichiya's influence, he's equated Arajin as the source of his weakness that he must destroy to defeat the darkness.

He can't get him out of his mind/

Part 3: Together Forever Theory

As for you and me forever line, this actually feeds into a personal theory I have on how the story will end. Basically, Arajin and Matakara will become Honki People themselves. I say this for the following reasons:

Both boys shared a childhood dream training to become Honki People together. And with the series having such a tragic undertone, their original wish will be granted with them becoming Honki People being allowed to live for eternity and work on their respective issues. Paralleling Senya and Ichiya who've existed for thousands of years and still pursue each other (albeit for reconciliation and revenge). And while it's a stretch to say how two ordinary boys can become genies, it's worth mentioning that the series itself doesn't go into specifics with how they're made so it's always a possibility.

They have nothing to lose by becoming Honki People. There really isn't anything tying them to Honki City or having them want to continue being average high school boys. Arajin hasn't made any serious friendships with anyone on the show, he finds his mother to be a nuisance, and he has no dreams or aspirations apart from losing his virginity. While he would be saddened by leaving Mahoro, he'd be able to deal with it down the line. (Also remember that line in Episode 8 on how he expects Matakara to take responsibility for driving Mahoro away). As for Matakara, he doesn't have his older brother anymore, his adopted relatives don't really watch over him, he burned his bridges with Minato Kai and also has no long-term dreams past high school life. There isn't anything tethering them to the normal world so they'll eventually leave it to be "together" or have the time to find each other again. Kinda like that one fairy tale show with the gay leads.

If they do ascend to become Honki People, not many people would care about their disappearances or look into it. Siguma Squad viewed them as worthy adversaries and acquaintances at best. But they wouldn't be emotionally distraught if they were to disappear one day. While Zabu and Minato Kai would be saddened by Matakara's disappearance, he and the others would still move on and try to reconstruct MK. Especially since it's brought up that Matakara wouldn't have a place with them afterwards. They'd remember him fondly but would carry that heartbreak within them. And I'm sure Arajin's mom would just roll with her son leaving since he's giving his life for someone he loves/cares about. Plus she can always adopt the other Minato Kai boys as her children. She wouldn't mind the company and they'd definitely appreciate her more compared to Arajin. Another thing to bring up is how none of them know about Senya or Ichiya or what truly became of the boys after their final battle. They'll just think they were once old friends who had a fight and left as a result. Though Akutaro knows about the genie lore, I doubt anyone will care what he says nor will he make an effort to reach out to them or the original Honki People.

I'm reminded of Banana Fish, another BL anime that Hiroko Ustumi directed, and how it ended on a tragic note. No spoilers but many did not call it a happy ending. So it wouldn't be farfetched for Utsumi to create another tragic ending for the two leads that defies the status quo.

As for what will happen to the Teacher himself, the only thing I can think of for the last NNL segment is him deciding to call it quits and leave Jasmine for good. If my Honki People Theory turns out right, then it'll parallel the Teacher saying goodbye to Jasmine and moving on with his life. Though it could be argued that this can reference Arajin and Matakara ending their friendship, it can end on a hopeful note that they'll find a way to reconcile during their eternal lifetimes. I just can't imagine that the Teacher would still be wanting to come despite openly declaring that he doesn't want Jasmine to see any other man. Either he'll recognize it and make himself leave or the Receptionist will call security on him and regrettably ban him for being a threat to NNL's top workers.

And those are my thoughts on this segment and what I think can happen in the final episode. I hope it's to your liking anon. And what did you think of this? If you agree or disagree with anything I've said, please feel free to reblog this with your comments on the subject. Especially when it comes to how you think Arajin and Matakara's fairy tale will end and what will become of that wacky teacher and his love for Jasmine.

“Do you know? Do you know? Do you know how this ends?”

[cecilebutcher]

「♭𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐎𝐥𝐲𝗺𝐩𝐢𝐚♭」

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Unmatched, witty and queen of

The best strategies we’ve seen

!!Likes do nothing, Reblog instead!!

Tw: death, adultery(Aka cheating)

Daria is part of my twst x Greek mythology oc series. I highly encourage you to check it out^^

⊱Bᴀsɪᴄs⊰

Name: Daria Olympia

Age:18

Date of birth: July 1

Zodiac sign: Cancer

Hight:200cm

Dorm: Rosantée (a beautiful dorm made by @midnightmah07 & @viilpstick )

Class: 3A

Place of birth:

Mother: —

Father: Aegaeon Olympia (48)

Step mother: Eileen Olympia (50)

Brother: Lex Olympia (19)

Brother: Seraphim Olympia(19)

Sister: Cinda Olympia (17)

Brother: Cyrus Olympia (17)

Brother: Nestor Olympia (16)

Sibling: Aison Olympia (16)

Sister: Xena Olympia (6)

Dominant hand: both

Based off: Athena (Greek mythology)

Sexuality: on the Aroace spectrum, pansexual.

⊱Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ⊰

Daria is a 200cm teenager with olive skin with Cappuccino colored hair and grey eyes. Her hair is long thick and wavy that she usually has styled in a ponytail. She has tons of Beaty marks all over her body, the most noticeable ones being the ones on her face. She, surprisingly, has a lot of muscle on her body and tons of scars. She has a white tattoo on her neck that reaches down to her back.

⊱Vᴏɪᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ⊰

Maki (jjk dub)

⊱Cʟᴜʙ⊰

Debate club

⊱Bᴇsᴛ Sᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ⊰

History of magic. Conjuration

⊱Hᴏʙʙʏ⊰

Spear fighting. Martial arts. Hand to hand combat. Debating. Puzzles. Mind sports. Boxing. Reading.

⊱Bᴀᴄᴋsᴛᴏʀʏ⊰

Daria is one of 8 children to Aegaeon Olympia, a successful and extremely rich businessman who owns many companies. She’s the third eldest after her two twin brothers, Lex and Seraphim. Her mother died a few hours after giving birth to her. So she grew up with her father, brother and step mother, who wasn’t too found of her. While she shares the same father with all her siblings, she doesn’t share the same mother.

She’s closest to her younger brother, Nestor, as they both have a loving for travel and competition. But she’s also extremely close with her two sisters, Xena and Selena, as they are the only other girls in the house. As she grew up she also started getting closer to her step mother, while she used to hate her, blaming her for not being able to have both her parents, she now understands her and has a lot of respect for the lady for keeping to deal with her father.

⊱Sᴘᴇᴀᴄɪᴀʟ Mᴀɢɪᴄ⊰

-:Warrior of the mind:-

The ability to creat illusions that can be used for anything. Most of the time these illusions are used to map things out, like plans.

⊱Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs Oɴ Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs⊰

𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎: I’ve yet to meet Rosehearts, but I heard he can be a bit, how do I say, um, bossy. And that just won’t work with me. I don’t like being told what to do.

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚢: I don’t know much about him in all honesty. So I have no opinion of him.

𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊: Ugh, I’ve met him once in my life. Never. Again. Honestly he’s just, ugh. I can’t believe I can’t find the word to describe how annoying and just, I hate him to say the least.

𝚁𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎: I have no opinion on him other than the fact that I feel sorry that he has to deal with Kingscholar.

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖: Ah, the Al-Asim heir. He’s quite nice, and is friends with my youngest sister. I like him in all honesty.

𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕: Viper is, well, interesting, to say the least. I like hearing his thoughts sometimes. He’s a bit uptight but I can rely on him if it ever came to it. And, I won’t lie, He’s quite beautiful and charming.

𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚕: I’ve never met Ashengrotto before, therefore I have no opinion on him. Next.

𝙹𝚊𝚍𝚎: I met him and his brother once a long, long, time ago. And that was too much for me in all honesty. I’ll simply stick with my idiotic siblings.

𝚅𝚒𝚕: Shoenheit is quite talented, I enjoy his movies quite a lot. He always has a way to make the characters come to life, and as my brother’s girlfriend noted, he’s quite pretty.

𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚔: Hunt is, a lot, to say the least. I personally have no interest in the man, but my younger sister seems to find his company nice.

𝙸𝚍𝚒𝚊: Ah, my idiotic Cousin. Honestly the whole situation he made in night Raven college a few months back is just embarrassing.

𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚜: His highness is someone who I highly respect. Nothing more to say to be honest.

𝙻𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊: Ah, I’ve met him once, he seems…… interesting to say the least. My younger brother seems to like him though.

𝙽𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚎: He’s a bit too naive for me. Sees the world as black and white, not my favorite person, or even in the top ten to be honest.

⊱Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ⊰

Positive traits: Smart, intelligent, clever, wise, Responsible, Reliable, Brave, strong, Confident, Independent, Loyal, Dedicated, Hard-working, Careful, Ambitious, Organized, Mature, Trustworthy, Talented, gifted, Stable, Punctual, Self-confident, Witty, Cooperative.

Negative traits: rude, power-hungry, Argumentative, Bossy, Possessive, Jealous, envious, Arrogant, Dangerous, Cold, Cunning, Petty, Self interested.

Neutral traits: Quiet, Calm, Honest, Sarcastic, Antisocial, Strict, Stubborn, Reserved, Serious.

⊱Fᴜɴ Fᴀᴄᴛs⊰

Is the smartest one of her siblings and was supposed to skin four years in school but decided against it.

While she’s not a very feminine girl, she still likes dressing up with her sisters.

She’s seen as the level headed one of the family.

She love sports, but adores strategy games.

She won countless competitions, some are chess, boxing, martial arts and even fencing.

She has an owl familiar that’s always near, maybe not in sight but it’s there.

Is cousins with Idia, and lowkey is done with his shit.

Is the designated babysitter(with Cyrus)

And I’m not talking about babysitting her youngest sister, Xena, I’m talking about babysitting her other siblings, even the ones older then her.

Has tons of scars around her body.

Had a white tattoo that starts from her neck and ends at her back.

Does not get along with Lex’s girlfriend, Lillian.

But they have mutual respect with each other and she’ll help her out if she really needed it.

Her closet if filled with classy clothes and suits.

She shares a room with Selena that’s just fillies with closets. It just has their clothes shoes and bags.

She doesn’t go shopping, Cyrus and Lillian just buy her clothes she likes.

↗continuing this point, if she does do her own shopping, Eileen and Selena are shopping with her online.

Captain of RSA’s debate club.

Was supposed to join the spell drive team but decided against it.

Is extremely close to one of her cousins, and thinks he’s the biggest pain in her ass, lovingly.

Her favorite nrc student is Jamil, and she sympathizes with his situation.

Speaking of Jamil, he has the biggest crush on her ever.

She know this, but decides to act like she doesn’t know since she doesn’t like him like that(maybe a bit, but not enough for a relationship)

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

Go check out the dorm made by @midnightmah07 and @viilpstick it’s super cool. And special thanks to Jorge Rivera-Herrans for Epic the musical cause I could not have figured most shit out without the playlist blasting in my ear😭

[multifunctionalnitroglycerin]

The Locked Tomb Series Name and Symbolism #3

This one is a beast. Be warned.

And now, onto the original Penumbral Lady, the Mother of the 9th House, the First Keeper of the Tomb, the Lyctor that that never was, Anastasia the First.

Now Anastasia is one of the characters most riddled with symbols and hidden meaning and conspiracy theories, so I'll do my best to add my own tidbit here.

The studious over-researching scion of the Ninth House has ended up being a Symbol herself, in a way that all saints are to those that love and follow them. And the Ninth does love her, or at least, they love what they understand, what they perceive she stood for (The Anastasian monument and the whole "You could not trip in the Ninth House without falling over an Anastas, an Anastasia, or an Anastasius; or, in later years, bumping into their niche.")

But here we'll look into more mundane, if you will, aspects of her symbolism and perhaps come up wit ha theory or two on the way.

First things first, her name itself. Anastasia or Αναστασία is a name of Greek origin that is quite popular in Eastern Europe, and closely associated with Christianity (You'll be surprised at how many Saints of the Orthodox Church have born that name. Okay it's five, but it still seems a lot) It originates from the ancient Greek word ἀνάστασις, meaning Resurrection. The noun itself comes from the compound verb ἀνίστημι, which for our language nerds such as myself out there has two components ἀνά meaning again and ἵστημι meaning stand. So practically, stand again, which is my personal favorite take on the name. Being the one that stands up again, and again, and again. Beautifully stubborn, don't you think? And quite fitting for our Saint here, for research is nothing but failing and falling down time after time only to rise back up wiser than before and face the challenge again. In all honesty, this also reminds me of a few other Ninth House dolts, that redid that trial countless times without any sleep, food whatsoever. For all my experimentalists and researchers out there, do NOT be like Harrow. A few hours of sleep, or a walk down the hallway and a glass of water might help you figure it out, more than tiredly redoing the same thing over a thousand times. Oh, I am off track though, I apologize.

Back to our point, Anastasia = Resurrection. Now whether that resurrection refers to her own coming back from the dead (we see Alecto recognizing her bones huddled in a corner ready to roll the stone back up) or perhaps another Second Resurrection, with John overthrown and things returning to their natural order - more or less, kinda, I mean who knows?- and her or her blood aka Harrowhark playing a significant part, I don't know.

What we also do not know, are the exact circumstances of her existence post ascension attempt, and the manner of her death, both of which are clouded in mystery. Kind of like another Anastasia in history. Yes, that's the one, Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia. Countless rumors of her possible escape circulated after her death, fueled by the fact that the location of her burial was unknown until even decades later. And still even after the mass grave was found, the bodies of the young tsarevich and one daughter were missing. (Those were found in 2007 and the body is attributed either to Maria or to Anastasia). Another Anastasia that for decades was clouded in mystery.

But mysteries are kind of a Ninth House thing, aren't they. What with the jawless skull, the only known treatment to a sewn tongue being the house symbol and all. And my gosh, the whole thing with Alecto has my brain spinning. Because why would John ask of Anastasia to guard Alecto in the tomb? Why would he sent his only failed student, the one he betrayed, with the thing that could spell his end? Why lock them up together? Unless the point was not to give Anastasia a role, but to punish her.

According to the eighth as they so graciously inform us, the Ninth shouldn't even exist. Anastasia should have sealed herself with Alecto in the tomb and died there. There was no plan for her having descendants, a bloodline unbroken for ten thousand years (Why, I wonder? What did it service? Why was it so important and so deeply integrated in the Reverend Family that Harrow's parents had to go to the lengths they did to ensure the continuation of Anastasia's bloodline? To ensure, unknowingly that the oath between Anastasia and Alecto still held true?)

Before diving to my own conspiracy theory about these questions I would like to point out a parallel between Anastasia being locked as a punishment in the tomb and one of the most well known tragedies of the ancient Greek world. It could be none other than Sophocles' Antigone. And again the parallel between Antigone and Anastasia is so prominent as the Alecto Αληκτώ one, that having translated the part

Ὦ τύμβος, ὦ νυμφεῖον, ὦ κατασκαφὴς οἴκησις αἰείφρουρος, οἷ πορεύομαι πρὸς τοὺς ἐμαυτῆς, ὧν ἀριθμὸν ἐν νεκροῖς πλεῖστον δέδεκται Φερσέφασσ’ ὀλωλότων· ὧν λοισθία ’γὼ καὶ κάκιστα δὴ μακρῷ κάτειμι, πρίν μοι μοῖραν ἐξήκειν βίου. Ἐλθοῦσα μέντοι κάρτ’ ἐν ἐλπίσιν τρέφω φίλη μὲν ἥξειν πατρί, προσφιλὴς δὲ σοί, μῆτερ, φίλη δὲ σοί, κασίγνητον κάρα·

I don't know how many times, I should be ashamed of myself for not making the connection sooner. Our Greek speakers have probably already figured out the translation, but lets put it here as well... this is the most famous

Ω Τάφε μου, κρεβάτι νυφικό, σπίτι μου στη βαθιά τη γη κι αιώνιο κελί μου, έρχομαι να βρω τους δικούς μου νεκρούς που μέγα πλήθος η Περσεφόνη φίλεψε...

(I am cutting this short, we will need the English version either way. Don't ask why this part is such a big deal. It just is)

Anyhow, for everyone else that didn't grow up around Greek comedic series of the 90s this whole thing translates to

O tomb, my bridal-bed—my house, my prison cut in the hollow rock, my everlasting watch! I'll soon be there, soon embrace my own, the great growing family of our dead Persephone has received among her ghosts. I, the last of them all, the most reviled by far, go down before my destined time's run out. But still I go, cherishing one good hope, my arrival may be dear to father, dear to you, my mother, dear to you, my loving brother...

And while the bridal bed line would make for an interesting interpretation, seeing Harrow's -Anastasia's blood, instant pull to Alecto and seeings as we never figured out the nature of the relationship between Alecto and Anastasia, it is the greater premise of the story that we care about.

In short, Antigone had two brothers, who fought over who could rule over Thebes. So evenly matched they were, that they both perished in the fight, and Antigone's uncle, Creon, takes over. Eteokles (Ετεοκλής) who stood for Thebes was buried with the honors befitting a king. His brother Polyneikis (Πολυνείκης) however was left out of the city borders, exposed to the elements, his body abandoned to be consumed by vultures. Creon ordered that no one was under any circumstances allowed to give Polyneikis any sort of death rites, and going against this order was punishable by death. If you know your way around Greek myths, you know that is the worst thing you could do to someone, and it was considered a heinous crime both by mortals, and most importantly, the gods. Antigone, defies Creon's order to not bury Polyneikis and performs the rites symbolically, applying a thin layer of dirt on her dead brother's body. Creon finds out, and after his son begging him for Antigone's life instead of her being killed by stone throwing, Creon decided to bury her alive in a cave with no food or water, until she died of thirst and hunger. Thus the tomb, and prison Antigone mourns about. The story does go on, and ends up with Antigone being found dead, having taken her own life in the tomb, Creon's son, who was in love with her trying to kill his father, failing, and killing himself, and Creon's wife Euridice, killing herself at the loss of her only son. Creon then exiles himself from Thebes cursing his own αστοχασιά, foolhardiness and imprudence at not following the moral laws and the will of the gods.

Antigone chooses to go against man-written laws, and the power of the mortal king, in order bury her brother, following the divine honor and will of the gods, as well as her love for her brother. In return she is punished by being buried alive where she chooses to end her life and meet her family in the Underworld.

The parallel to Anastasia is rather prominent in this case. Anastasia in attempting perfect Lyctorhood goes against John's will, something however that she didn't know, and John himself didn't realize probably until the oh crap she is going to achieve perfect Lyctorhood, and my mistakes will be obvious for everyone to see. Doubt is going to enter everyone's minds and then I will have lost them all over again.

So he kills Samael - again, I think that something might indeed have gone wrong in the process and Alecto might have been involved with or without John's urging, but that' s a story for another time. And Anastasia is all that remains, brokenhearted and unwhole. He doesn't kill her and she lingers, probably doubtful and distrusting. Then she is tasked with guarding Alecto's tomb until her death. John seals Anastasia in the tomb, much like Creon seals Antigone, because she went against his will. Whether that is because of perfect Lyctorhood or some later transgression - a potential pact/ blooming friendship with Alecto, we don't know.

John like a petulant child, locks his broken toys away, where no one but him can find them, where nothing but his blood can free them. Anastasia like Antigone, follows rules larger than her small king, and is entombed with the body she is supposed to protect as a result. She makes peace with her death, does not cling to life, seemingly already having met Samael in the life after (if he is indeed dead)by the time Alecto is freed and tastes her in Harrow's blood. She is naught but a pile of bones ready to roll the stone and seal the tomb once more. John's intentions were never for her to have descendants, for the ninth to become a house. It was to lock the women who he left behind, whose trust he betrayed, for eternity. To keep their doubts, and their secrets and power forever buried.

[welcometololaland]

WIP WORKING WEEK DAY 5: NOT NOW BUT SOON AKA. 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU AU (going to have to re-do this banner because i changed the fic name oops) The last day of WIP working week - thanks for supporting my little snippets! It's been a fun challenge! I'm doubling this up as my WIP Wednesday, so thank you to @catanisspicy @alrightbuckaroo @heartstringsduet @lemonlyman-dotcom @cha-melodius and @three-drink-amy for the tags!

TK stakes out in front of Carlos’ dorm building for almost two days straight, to no avail. At one point he does a stint of five, incredibly boring hours until his phone dies. People keep giving him weird looks, but he remains unperturbed until his stomach is rumbling so loudly it can’t be ignored and he has nothing better to do than watch two pigeons scuttle about on the concrete in what he assumes is a weird mating dance. 

Vaguely, he wonders whether he’s doing a similar thing. Nothing he’s doing right now makes much sense, and yet he’s desperate to make it up to Carlos in a way he can’t quite rationalise. As he watches one pigeon persistently try to escape the attentions of the other, he can’t help but draw some parallels.

On Friday, TK is surprised to see Carlos in his Roman Political Thought seminar. Not in the least because he’s half convinced that Carlos hasn’t been outside of his room or eaten for two days.

“Where have you been?” TK asks, leaning over the two-person table Carlos has opted for. The blond guy in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt sitting next to him gives TK a weird look, which TK pointedly ignores. 

“Why is that any of your business?” Carlos counters coolly. 

“I’ve been trying to find you,” TK hisses, wishing he could stop time as the professor clears his throat pointedly.

Carlos arches an eyebrow in TK's direction. “You seemed too busy to talk last time,” he points out. “Didn’t feel like a priority.”

“It’s not like—”

“Please take your seats,” the professor interjects in a stern voice, and when TK turns around he’s met with a very stony expression. He tries to look appropriately apologetic as he shuffles off towards a nearby desk. The existing occupant – a girl with a dark braid – sighs pointedly as he sits down.

“Good morning to you too,” he mutters under his breath. She scowls at him and flips her braid over her shoulder.

The seminar proceeds as usual, albeit seeming to pass with agonising slowness, and one hour into the session the professor lets them take a five minute break. TK looks up to see if Carlos is interested in continuing their terse conversation, but he walks quickly from the room before TK can really get a handle on the situation. He half-rises out of his seat to follow, before the girl next to him groans.

“Dude,” she interjects, drawing his attention. “Take a hint. He’s not interested.”

TK grits his teeth and looks at her sharply. “He’s my friend,” he argues. “I just did something to piss him off.”

“Then let him cool down,” she says insistently. “It’s never a good idea to try and corner someone when they’re in that kind of mood. You’ll only make them more likely to lash out.”

There’s something in her voice – a blunt kind of honesty – that gives TK pause for thought. He sits back down in the chair and turns to her, watching as her fingers fly over the keyboard of her laptop. 

“I’m TK,” he blurts out, unsure why he feels indebted to this stranger. He watches as her fingers pause for a moment, then fall onto the edge of the computer as she sighs.

“Nancy,” she replies wryly, giving him a once over. “I recognise you from my biology classes. Don’t ask me to be your partner in any group assignments, just because you know my name.”

I'll leave an open tag for anyone who would like to participate, and maybe add @goodways @ramblingdisaster73 @detective-giggles @rosedavid @jesuisici33 @orchidscript @ambiguouspenny @freneticfloetry @basilsunrise and @beautifulhigh assuming you haven't already done it :)