#but again i still think he was a cat guy first and foremost and i rest on that assumption until canon proves me wrong

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s1 episode 11 thoughts

this episode had me stressed. out. in the last 6 minutes i was speedrunning every emotion.

at first i thought we were finally getting some vampire action and i was excited to see how they handled that. but no. it went in a very different direction.

i also love that mulder thinks aliens come to earth to play with humans like how "we dissect frogs", sure i'll subscribe to that worldview.

i would love to know how frequently our main duo here finds themselves interviewing children because i feel like this happens a lot. do they train you for that at the academy?

was also receiving mixed messages here on if these two even LIKE interacting with children because scully seems pretty alright at it and seemed quite protective, especially after they got kidnapped. mulder was all "that's a nice bunny :)" so i was like oh, he knows what he's doing.

but then when the girl got kidnapped he was cracking jokes about the cops not looking in the right direction (which was up, because clearly aliens took her!) so i was like, okay so he does not know what he is doing if joking is his first instinct after a sort of amber alert situation (or he's of the "my sense of humor is twisted and dark you wouldn't understand" genre).

and THEN he tells the next girl's mom that she has a beautiful daughter. in conclusion: ???

scully stopped into mulder's motel room and then he makes her leave to attend to Secret Business and she said "mulder you're rushing me out of the room... is a girl coming over?" (cutscene to him on the water with his weird boss popping his sunflower seeds) <- i laughed at the juxtaposition

(and also laughed at how desperately scully wants this man to do something that isn't alien related, even if that means hooking up with random people during their investigation. i deeply respect the need to get under his skin as well it's very endearing to me. banter is key to a healthy dynamic.)

so the bossman comes and says back in the 50's they tried to make captain america but it didn't work out. happens sometimes. they then make a detour to a place that seems a VERY healthy environment to keep people experiencing severe distress. (/s)

at this point we learn the girls did the murders! and our agents are so busy wanting to LARP being a family they forgot about stranger danger- which now also goes in the adult's direction! they bought the kids soda and let one of the twins even give the cashier the money (which i think is a sign of deep respect in the culture of children, did mulder study for this or something?)

i was sweating at this point! i kept yelling girl they're gonna kill you!

luckily they figured this out but only AFTER drinking the children's poison. it was harrowing.

overall a good episode. i was sat at the edge of my seat. remember to NOT trust strange children because they might poison you and extract your blood.

(i will say that the treatment of IFV in this episode as a way to make little demon spawn spoke to the Scariness of Modern 90's Science and probably didn't make its proponents very happy- in modern vernacular we may use the term "Problematic"- but that's just my best guess because i have only ever lived in a world in which that is a fairly normal thing to happen and i cannot speak to the socio-cultural fears of a period i was not alive during without conducting intense research)

[signanothername]

HEYO, do you think your Regina GeorgeTM Nightmare would ever have moments of his past self just...idk how to word it rn, just like he slips back. He's there. Something that Nightmare wouldn't normally do, but just this once or twice?

Whether it's drawing the line at children. Killers can kill them. Nightmare would prefer to not....just, something about it is a little too similar for his liking. And if Killer asks, the answer is just 'I have standards' or something to try and cover it up?

Or, maybe a rare 'olive branch' between him and Dream? Perhaps he remembers a small detail and does something nice for once, even if it's a small thing, before going back to his bitchy self? Like, a tiny piece of candy Dream used to like. Or a moment of 'that's MY brother asshole', even if Nightmare still a piece of shit?

Or, not even a moments. What about small mannerisms he has from before, that he doesn't even realize he still has? Maybe it's posture. Maybe it's the way he tilts his head when listening or curious(as a child, it was much more innocent compared to now).

Just a thought I wanted your opinion on!

Hello!! Glad to see you in my inbox again! :D

That’s it Regina GeorgeTM Nightmare is what I’m calling him from now on chchhcchhc /hj

Ok thank you for asking that cause i wanted to ramble about how i view Nightmare for a long time and now the time has come, cause i usually talk about him in fragments, bits and pieces here and there, never fully diving into his personality as a whole

Thing is, corrupted or not, i like to believe he’s still Nightmare y’know? Beneath all that bitchiness, he’s still the same quiet loner little guy that was just never dealt a fair hand by life

I have talked before very quickly about how i think Nightmare has moments of kindness

And even talked a bit in depth about why i think Nightmare is extremely bitchy

And you better believe i love to think Nightmare has those little moments in which he has a kind thought that just seems out of character for him, but it’s truly not, it’s just that little guy inside is still there, it’s just harder for Nightmare to truly think clearly with all the corruption that consumes him

Not only that but i absolutely love to think a lot of his habits are still the same, maybe developed or slightly changed but still very much the same

and i even sketched a few sketches concerning these two points, i just never shared them

In the first sketch, Nightmare is thinking about bringing Killer to Ccino’s Cat cafe, bringing killer to the cafe has no benefit to Nightmare whatsoever, it only serves to make Killer happy (something that completely opposes Nightmare’s goal of spreading negativity) yet he still thought about it, it’s just one of those moments where his little guy self just shines through

In the second sketch, it shows a lil headcanon of mine that Nightmare never broke a habit (and even something of a coping mechanism /comfort) of finding a tree to sit by when he reads, it helps clear his head, and i like to fully believe Nightmare doesn’t truly realize he does this cause it reminds him of better simpler times when he was just a happy content child reading a book under his mom’s leaves

That aside, sometimes i love to include little details in my art that people usually don’t really notice most the time, one little detail is that i love to have Dream and Nightmare grip their clothes as a child would when they are distressed (especially if it’s specifically anxiety/fear)

That’s just plays into a little headcanon of mine that it’s a habit Dream and Nightmare had since childhood and neither of them broke it, nor they’re ever gonna truly break it, what I’m saying is Nightmare’s child-like behavior is very prominent when he’s distressed, and i love to think so cause Nightmare is first and foremost, a wounded fearful lonely child, someone who’s inner child never healed, so when things scare or distress him, his inner child just takes over and such habits make themselves known

To me Nightmare is still Nightmare, it’s just that the corruption has taken over and made his pain worse and by extension he wants to let that pain out by inflecting it on others, all while not truly realizing that he does it to let his own pain out, in fact, I wholeheartedly believe that if someone (say Killer for example) kept pressing him by questions as to why he does what he does, eventually Nightmare would hit a wall only to realize “huh… why am i doing this?” Cause Nightmare would never settle for a bitchy answer like “why not?” It’s beneath him

Not only that but i fully believe Nightmare can get those moments of weakness in which the past just eats away at him, something I sketched for too :’)

And when it comes to Dream, he definitely has those moments of hesitation that he himself doesn’t fully understand, he fully believes that he doesn’t care for Dream at all, even tho it’s not true

I even talked about Dream and Nightmare coexisting before

And even this animatic, in which Nightmare (while being unphased/ unresponsive to Dream’s affection at first) still allowed Dream to show him his affection and let Dream hug him, only to return it by a very subtle head tilt leaning towards Dream before returning to his bitchy self

And I even wanna bring attention to this lil comic (and the ramble I made in the reblog about it dhhxhx) cause I feel like it also explores Nightmare’s fears to an extent

Fears of feeling weak, cause Nightmare definitely developed the mindset that the strong devours the weak, i like to think Nightmare hates feeling weak cause who would protect him but himself?

That being said, he maybe a bitch, but he’s also a deeply traumatized individual with an inner child who’s in dire need to heal, my man needs therapy and love <33333

[starry-eyed-wild-child]

🌻 clay roach heacanons 🌻

a/n: this is based a little on THIS post i made about clay being the rory character that would have the sweetest girl

. first, and foremost, I absolutely love this little wet cat - I live him, I breathe him, I want to gnaw and chew at him

. but we move

. the only way i could imagine you meeting clay was definitely like a childhood sweetheart type thing going on, y'know? - like you met when you were like seventeen, and you just kinda... got stuck with him?

. he's cocky - no doubt about it. this man is the most snarky, sarcastic asshole you'll ever meet

. HOWEVER, he's so sweet on you because he just doesn't wanna break you. but will never say this to your face

. I don't see clay as a very cuddly person, it's just not his thing, even before all the heroin

. however, this man is a sucker for the small things. hell yeah, forehead kisses. absolutely hold my hand. definitely, c'mere, baby, nuzzle your nose against mine

. he's not a big fan of nicknames that much, but his favourite will always be 'babydoll' and I stand by this. clay legit forgets your name because he never uses it

. it's probably not the most healthy relationship, let's be honest, but that's the sad reality of drugs, babe - clay will lie to you, keep secrets from you, and you probably wouldn't even know

. however, that doesn't mean he doesn't love you to pieces, he absolutely 100% does

. clay's very forgetful, he's strung out most of the time, so don't expect him to remember anything important lmao

. is a dog man, and this will be controversial but it's so true - get this man a little fucking golden retriever, I BEG

. he just loves the warmth of a dog - i imagine that clay's always cold, and so always needs to be holding something warm

. again, nsfw under the cut cause I'm sensible like that

. you thought kappa was dirty? let me tell you right now, this man is the filthiest man on the planet

. not even necessarily kinky, he just knows how to talk to you just right. clay is the king of dirty talk, and this is a hill I will die on

. no joke, clay could make you cum in about a minute just from talking. it's the accent bro 😭

. loves, loves, loves using his hands - everything else is great, don't get me wrong, but this man loves nothing more than having you sat with your back against his chest as he fingers the life outta you

. hair pulling kink - this goes both ways. he loves tangling his hand in your hair, and he's always gentle. you're his precious little baby, he doesn't wanna hurt you

. but on him?! oh lord, he's practically begging you to pull harder

. clay loves thighs. kissing them, biting them, laying his head on them, holding them, he loves it all

. clay is a rough and deep kinda guy, slow and sensual are not words in his vocabulary

. THIS MAN IS HELLA LOUD - and he doesn't give two fucks who hears him. he will moan, groan, grunt, growl, whimper and whine and he's not ashamed at all

. I personally can't really see clay as the submissive type, he'll let you ride him and it's his favourite thing in the world, but he still has all the power

. give this man a blowjob and he's getting on his knees with a ring

. I don't see him much to give you head, he'll do it every now and then when he's in the mood, but he much prefers using his fingers

. getting his girl to grind against his pillow 🤭

. but when he does give you head, kiss your ability to walk goodbye 😚

. a tiny bit of a daddy kink me thinks?! 🤭

. just ride him, man, he's a lazy fuck - he's not, he just loves watching you on top, PLUS it's less effort

. overall, is he morally good? no, absolutely not - he'd probably realistically be like a 4/10, but I love him so much I'm just gonna boost him up to an 8.5/10 cause who's gonna tell me I can't?

[apotelesmaa]

I lovvvve thinking about dtk and black star like way past the manga (assuming black star is immortal here via him becoming a god out of sheer force of will) dealing with immortality and losing their friends it’s so fascinating to me (statements said by the truly deranged)…. Rotating it in my mind… Incomprehensible rambling under the read more

I think that like objectively kid would probably be the most prepared for it given he’s a literal death god but it would still be painful. He’s not really human but he had the very human experience of growing up with a tight group of friends and now has to deal with the very human emotion of grief and figure out how to navigate that. I feel like he would (shockingly) have a pretty healthy response after a few years of grieving because unlike with his dad he would actually get closure here. Idk if he would ever get another weapon partner again though like he would probably at least use whatever high ranking weapon at dwma was closest on the very rare chance he needed one but nobody could ever replace the thompsons. I feel like he would also just have little reminders of his friends everywhere just to keep them in his memory.

I see a lot of people saying he would withdraw completely and distance himself from humanity but like… I don’t think he would ever do that the thing about kid that really differentiated him from his dad was he was raised with humans and interacted with them frequently which fostered a connection that lord death didn’t really have. He in general has such a love for humanity and people I feel like he would be very involved at the dwma with the students and faculty. Lord death was kinda like… he Liked humans but he still viewed himself as something else first and foremost. Kicking the can of worms that was asura down the road for later never telling anyone anything because it’s a god problem not a problem for humans. He made zero effort to talk to the witches as well because he kinda just went “well they’re all evil and that’ll never change” & never confronted that belief. As opposed to dtk who went to the witches to help and put all his faith in his friends and relied on them heavily. He Likes People… He still would want to talk to the humans around him and help them. I cannot see him doing what his dad did and just locking himself in the death room forever and ever. Nothing will replace his friends but that doesn’t mean he can’t make new friends.

Black star however I think would handle it poorly for a long time I don’t think he knows what healthy coping mechanisms are. He’s very all or nothing. Only deals in extremes. Stuck in the anger stage of grief for a long time. I think he would fuck off into the wilderness for like 5 years and stew into his depression before eventually coming back to dwma like a sad wet cat. Kid knew where he was the entire time but knew he needed space so he just let him be. (Dtk voice) oh good you’re back (genuine) you are going to therapy if even if I have to drag you there myself & if you ever disappear like that again I will make you do paperwork for years (threatening). I think he would to some extent become as distanced as lord death was just because he doesn’t want to go through that again. Friendly with all the people around him but never really going past a surface level of knowing them. Also he would absolutely never get another weapon partner he would just pull a mifune and use a real non magic boring sword. Eventually gets better about the distance thing because kid mandated therapy if he wanted to keep doing missions. He kinda becomes the go to guy at dwma for dangerous missions because he thinks they’re fun and he enjoys bragging about it. Maybe trains some students on the side and makes suggestions about the curriculum. He gets absolutely no say in the day to day operations of the dwma though he would burn it to the ground. Black star lies and tells students he’s the second cooler death god. (BS voice) who cares about that stuffy guy who does boring paperwork all day you guys should be worshipping ME (dtk voice) that is because he does not know how to do paperwork. he just submits his autograph.

I ultimately think they would support each other and rely on each other because they’re friends first and foremost but also because they’re kinda the only ones who get what it’s like. They both keep the memory of their friends alive and it’s nice to have someone else who remembers them. Insert the panels of black star saying he wants to bring about a balanced world with kid or whatever he said during their rematch. Sharing the burden of both grief and also keeping the world’s balance in check. Excalibur also gets it but he and black star cannot be in the same room for more then 10 minutes before black star starts trying (and failing) to violently murder him.

As a side note I think dtk and Excalibur would become… not friends. But Excalibur was close to his dad and seems to feel some degree of responsibility over kid because of it. Functions as the annoying pop up window that tells kid to take a break and occasionally gives good advice when he isn’t acting Like That. Dtk forgives black star for ghosting him for 5 years but will never forgive being forced to spend 5 years with Excalibur by himself & so every time Excalibur comes by kid redirects him to black star like “black star was just telling me the other day he couldn’t remember your legend you should go remind him :)”

[prospectivehero]

THE NEW TEEN TITANS: THE JUDAS CONTRACT - Written by Marve Wolfman, Illustrated by George Pérez

Holy cats, Batman, this was a read! I had watched or read a few different iterations of the "Judas Contract" story, so I finally wanted to read the original. I also wanted to dip my toes into more classic Teen Titans comics to see if I enjoyed them. I have many thoughts and will talk about them, so spoilers are ahead!

First and foremost, I want to talk about Tara's betrayal and death. It felt empty to me in a way I'm still trying to explore. I saw it coming because I've been exposed to versions of Tara Markov and this story. And I'm not opposed to spoilers because spoilers never ruin my reading or watching experience.

I'll give you, I'm not seeing her full story in the context of this comic. Tara made her first appearance in Volume #1, Issue #26 of New Teen Titans (1982). The Judas Contract arc doesn't start until Volume #1, Issue #41 (1984). I may be missing beats of her story that add something to her death. Maybe there were hints of her insanity and her contempt for the Teen Titans that I haven't read, but it still makes me feel dissatisfied.

I think part of it is that I don't like characters that stab their loved ones in the back, for whatever reason. In other versions of this story, Tara has realized the consequences of her actions, so her death is self-sacrificial instead of karmic.

Next, I want to talk about disability in comics and I won't be talking about Victor, yet.

I was only vaguely familiar with Joseph Wilson, or Jericho's, character before this comic. Now he might be a new favorite of mine because NOBODY TOLD ME HE WAS DISABLED.

I've written before about the treatment of disabled characters in the various superhero universes (link included). It's mostly disappointing, to summarize. While superhero stories make for great unintentional disabled metaphors, DC, Marvel, and whomever else, have struggled, for the most part, in representing certain disabilities and characters with them.

This is why I was so surprised by the treatment of Joseph. He is a metahuman made mute as a casualty of his father, Slade Wilson's, mercenary work. He communicates with sign language. I was impressed by how the writers balanced a functioning superhero with his disability. That's so rare and SO COOL!!!

Speaking of unintentionally disabled metaphors, let's talk about Victor Stone. I think he is the least "unintentional" out there. My theory is that Victor's most memorable and resonant stories are the way they are because someone is writing through the context of disability or race, maybe both. But he shares a parallel with a Marvel character, The Thing. Both are monsters in the eyes of many and have to live with the fact that they are unchangeably different. What makes the difference between the two characters is that Victor finds a group that accepts him, and he can accept himself. Ben Grimm can't achieve either. I'm writing an episode discussing Ben Grimm, so I'll leave it at that for now.

Once again, whether through Victor or Joseph, The Judas Contract, has surprisingly good and nuanced disable representation, just not in the places you'd expect.

TRIGGER WARNINGS (with potential spoilers) -

1) Reference to Insanity - Tara's reasons for her actions are all brushed under an "insanity" rug. I don't have the expertise to analyze if that's well-represented.

2) Cult/Religion/Terrorism - These three are not the same thing, but they all act similarly to manipulate and harm our heroes as well as civilians.

3) Implied inappropriate relations with a minor - it is not said directly but heavily implied that Slade Wilson is in a romantic and possibly sexual relationship with teenager Tara Markov

4) PTSD - This comic retells Slade Wilson's transition from the military and failed experimentation to civilian life.

[kyurilin]

I had so much fun making posts about my stories I did in 2022 last December that I've decided to do a post about the stories I've done in 2023 today! Unlike last year I'm not breaking it down by story so sorry it'll all be one post lmaoooo. And today's the perfect day to do it because this is the third year anniversary of when I started Stray! I'll throw it under a read more because it's a long post lol

Ironically I'm not starting this post off with Stray

FIRST UP

I actually did this one for a secret Santa event I was in a discord for at the time and it's the only instance of a story I've written that didn't have one of the rooftop gang as the main character

technically since the erasermic cats are named Present Meow and Fog this can count as a sneak peak into erasermic post Mic's Bullshit Life where they're now at the dorms lol

Also the Thirteen and Midnight bit of friendship in this story is kind of a subtle hint of where I'm taking their friendship in Crumbled Rooftops

NEXT

STRAY MY BELOVED

ya'll should thank @shabby-blog extra special for this one because they are 100% the reason this story even got dropped this year. They are also the driving force behind the fact I'm still working on it

as an extra special 3 year anniversary gift and because chapter two is taking so long to finish (it's a beefy bitch) everyone's Christmas present is access to the OG doc that was started on this day 3 years ago. Meaning this doc is from the era I was still writing Mic's Bullshit Life

the version on ao3 was started in October of 2021, then I don't think I touched it again until AFTER I had done the BNHA big bang and written some percentage of crumbled rooftops since that was THE focus

Genuinely one of my favorite things about Stray is the relationships. Emi and Shouta being exes and yet still close best friends. Nemuri showing up in Hizashi's apartment like "WAKE UP NERD". Oboro professing his love for Tensei and five minutes later hoping that Present Mic dropped nudes on Twitter. There's some great relationship things coming up in chapter 2 that I know you guys will love but writing the way these characters interact is a treat

I'm so glad that there are people who like this one and I'm so sorry it's taking so long to get more of it done but i promise. The next chapter will be worth it. And then chapter 3 will be extra worth it (even though I haven't even started that yet)

NEXT

This is so far my only published cloudnight story and it's also mistnight so it's obviously first and foremost the best thing I've published

I count this story as an apology for what I did to people in chapter 6 of crumbled rooftops

I LOVED writing this one so much. Particularly the opening bit where Kurogiri is like stunned into silence by Nemuri just being Nemuri.

Obviously it takes a lot of cues from the way I write Kuroboro in Crumbled Rooftops in regards to the dynamic between the two of them as well as introducing how late story Kuroboro will probably behave. Getting to go ahead and write Kuroboro where both parties are in agreement that this situation is permanent and are fine with that was a lot of fun since that's the end goal for CR.

And obviously it's always fun getting to write for Nemuri, particularly since the story I gave her the biggest role in is also one of my saddest. Getting to write a dynamic between Nemuri and Kuroboro was WONDERFUL. Obviously a lot of it is pure headcanon because, at most, in canon Oboro definitely crushes on her.

And on that note it's not that Nemuri has an easier time seeing Kuroboro as he is now compared to the Oboro she knew than EraserMic, it's just that the circumstances in this story are different. I didn't get to delve into it so much, but Kuroboro is on far better terms with them as well since he's not competing with them losing Nemuri. Obviously it's still hard on all of them to cope with Kuroboro as he is now but it's EASIER since theu'de not also grieving for Nemuri

obviously this is one of my favorites I've written this year but then again all my stories are my favorite

AND FINALLY

YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT TWO CHAPTERS OF CRUMBLED ROOFTOPS HAVE COME OUT THIS YEAR

Listen. I KNOW it takes me forever to update this one. And I'm once again going to say that shabby is a fucking godsend because they are the reason I managed to get chapter 5 done after I had to rewrite basically all of it just to get it to a point where it was good enough

This story is my BABY, OKAY. It takes a lot of cues from Mockingjay and the entire Hijacked Peeta storyline that I didn't realize until I reread that book earlier this year. And it WORKS.

We hit two pivotal points in this story this year, one of which has been in my mind since the story was originally outlined for the BNHA big bang last year and the other that I kind of happened into.

So to go into chapter 5 first- the Tensei reunion is one of my favorite parts of the story. The way Tensei interacts with Oboro was so GOOD. He is open and honest with Oboro (with the exception of exactly one moment) and it gives Oboro a perspective on things that sets into motion what happens in chapter 6

Not to mention the Eri and Oboro bonding in this chapter is absolute perfection. Eri dropping "your quirk hurts people too doesn't it" and Oboro realizing how similar they are is. Just. One of my favorite things.

BUT CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER. FUCKING. 6.

I am genuinely not lying when I say that one of the first scenes in my head for this story was Oboro confronting Hizashi and Shouta about Nemuri. I wanted the story to get to that moment so bad and I didn't know when or how I was going to get there

So obviously when I started chapter 6 and knew in my heart that THIS was it, it was going to happen in THIS chapter, I knew I had to do it right. And judging by the comments I got for it I feel like I nailed it (LET ME HAVE MY CONFIDENCE)

giving Oboro the single happy moment of finally being called Uncle Oboro was my apology to him

And I want to give a shout-out to the ending of that chapter specifically, since it's one of the few times I acknowledge the manga storyline that's currently ongoing rather than sticking to anime only information. Considering how long it's taken to write this story, when I knew for sure I was going to make Nemuri's death a pivotal part of the plot, that was going to be the major manga spoiler. But the anime beat me to it and suddenly before chapter 6 came out, the audience reading it was more likely to have the same information that everyone but Oboro had- that Nemuri was gone

HOWEVER while it's not particularly a big part of the plot character wise, the original ending to chapter 6 was going to be Oboro alone on the rooftop of UA. That had been set in stone since the reveal scene happened. But at some point in the final arc, at least two of the towers of UA get destroyed. Whether it's ACTUAL UA or not (thanks @machiroads for planting a doubt in my mind lol), my immediate thought was 'oh SHIT my FANFIC'. Because it was absolutely important to me that Oboro warp to the roof of UA, since in his mind it's safety. But suddenly that wasn't there and it changed how that last little bit of the chapter had to go and HONESTLY. IT WORKS SO MUCH BETTER.

I have no idea how long it's going to take me to get the next chapter out but I can tell ya'll this- we're entering the next arc of the story now. The biggest secret is on the table, and what happens next is going to define a lot of how the characters interact with each other and I am so looking forward to sharing it with everyone

AND THAT'S A WRAP. Last year I mostly did trivia bits but this year I just kind of went all over the place lol sorry everyone

[haveihitanerve]

I couldnt find the pic, but i have it written out so here-

Tears for Fears interview No 1 1985. Interview is typed out below!

Tears for Fears play Mr & Mr

Remember the rules? That’s right, one group member is grilled in private about the personal habits of the other. Afterwards his answers are checked by telling them to his partner. Points scored depend on how near the mark they are. Points are lost for group splits or fist fights…

What’s Roland’s greatest fear?

Curt: “Nuclear war and flying – but flying first and foremost. He’s calmed down a lot now but he used to hate it. Once we had to fly from Birmingham in a light aircraft with only eight seats and we just got thrown everywhere. Roland grabbed the back of my seat and swore all the way home.”

Roland’s answer: “Flying, yes, that was an easy one for you.”

Does Roland enjoy winding people up?

Curt: “Oh yes, it was funny, we met the people at our American record company recently and because they hadn’t bothered to do any research on us, none of them knew our names. I mean, really, we’re their number one act and they don’t know who’s Curt and who’s Roland! So when they threw a party for us I was so pissed off that I didn’t go, but Roland went along and introduced himself as Curt. So there was this poor record company exec introducing Roland to all these journalists and radio people as Curt Smith – I thought that was hysterical!”

Roland’s answer: “Oh yeah, I did a great wind-up in Boston recently when a guy from our American company had the cheek to say to me, “I’d like to introduce you to some people – what did you say your name was again?” So I said I was Curt and at the end of the day I told him who I really was”

What’s Roland’s most prized possession?

Curt: “I’d say his wife Caroline, but she’s not really a possession. Could be his special edition Fender Strat guitar that he uses every night, or his cat, or his camera. One of those!”

Roland’s answer: “Er – this quiz is really hard isn’t it? Well one answer would be my wife…”

Curt: “One of my answers was your wife. A point!”

Roland: “And one would be my Strat.”

Curt: “Yes, the Strat, got that one as well.”

Roland: “And one would definitely be my camera.”

Curt: “Three points!”

No 1: “Nice try – but that’s still only one point.”

What does Roland like most about being famous?

Curt (no hesitation here): THE MONEY! You see, Roland doesn’t particularly like being famous at all, but there is that one advantage. He’ll probably lie when he gives his answer though.”

Roland: “What do I like about being famous? I think it’s probably the money!”

What’s Roland’s most annoying habit?

Curt (again without hesitation): “He’s a noisy eater, but he’ll never admit to that. The bad habit he will admit to is looking at himself in mirrors – if you’re talking to him and suddenly he looks over your shoulder and starts tidying his hair – you know there’s a mirror behind you.”

Roland’s answer: “I bet I know what Curt said about me – he said I eat with my mouth open didn’t he?”

Curt: “Yeah, and there’s another answer Roland, go on, you know what it is!”

Roland (innocently): “Could it be looking at myself in the mirror?”

Who’s Roland’s all-time hero?

Curt: “Good question – could be Paul Simon, could be David Byrne or the actress Jessica Lange.”

Roland’s answer: “John Lennon”

Curt: “Oh I didn’t know that – one point down”

When Roland fell in love with his wife Caroline, was he sloppy or cool?

Curt: “He was just 13 when he met Caroline and he was so nervous on his first date that he got really drunk and spent the whole afternoon throwing up in the toilet. I remember he got drunk before he met her and had to stagger down the road to meet her. Caroline ended up sitting with him while he threw up and now they’re married – she’s got a warped sense of humour.!”

Roland’s answer: “I was nervous, wasn’t I?”

Curt: “You were pissed!”

Roland: “I was very, very nervous and I was also unconscious for about three hours!”

Can you remember the date of Roland’s wedding anniversary?

Curt: “I think…I believe…it’s September the something. He got married in a registry office but I had a big do.”

Roland’s answer: “September the 10th”

Curt: “I didn’t know exactly when it was but I got the month right”

Of all the countries he’s visited which is Roland’s favourite?

Curt: “I’d say France because his dad’s French and so he can speak the language. Also there’s good food, good cheese and good wine.”

Roland’s answer: “France.”

What’s been Roland’s most embarrassing moment on stage?

Curt: “He hasn’t had one that I can think of, but the most embarrassing thing for both of us is looking back on all the old TV appearances we’ve done – just the way we were then!”

Roland’s answer: “I can’t think of any.”

Curt: “Nor could I, so I said that looking back on our old image was embarrassing.”

Roland: Yes, that’s true, you deserve a point there. We looked so young and pathetically fragile!”

What’s Curt’s greatest fear?

Roland: “Mmmm, that’s an easy one for Curt to answer about me but he doesn’t seem to get scared about anything. He doesn’t realize when he’s in a dangerous situation. I mean, he never gets scared about flying which is pathetic!”

Curt’s answer: “Fear?!!”

Roland: “You see what I mean!”

Curt: “No, I don’t have any fears.”

Can you remember what you and Curt talked about the first time you ever met?

Roland: “Yeah, I was 13 and I went around to his house and he told me he wasn’t allowed out because he’d been in a fight the day before.”

Curt’s answer: “Er!” (looks totally blank)

Roland: “It was one specific subject but I’m not allowed to help you.”

Curt: “Oh yes, we talked about me not being allowed to go out because I’d been involved in a fight.”

Of all his pet cats, does Curt have a favourite and if so which one?

Roland: “He probably does have a favourite and I’d say it’s his first one. Treasure, a completely black half Siamese cat.”

Curt’s answer: “Treasure.”

If Curt ruled the world for a day, what’s the first thing he’d do?

Roland: “Ah, now I know the answer to this one because he’s been asked it before – and he said he wouldn’t accept the responsibility in the first place.”

Curt’s answer: “I bet Roland said I’d change everyone to working class.”

Roland: “I didn’t. I said you wouldn’t do it.”

Curt: “Well you were right then, weren’t you?”

Is Curt a sulker or a shouter when he’s in a mood?

Roland: “He’s a sulker, he’ll go off in a corner somewhere and sulk for hours. I’m the one that shouts.”

Curt’s answer: “I sulk for ages.”

Does Curt ever take a long time to get ready when he’s going out?

Roland: “No, he’s pretty quick. Just clothes on and that’s it. I probably take a bit longer because I wear a little eye make-up.”

Curt’s answer: “I’m always quick.”

When Curt first fell in love with his wife Lynn, was he sloppy or cool?

Roland: “He wasn’t sloppy, he just fell into it very easily and soon moved in with her.”

Curt’s answer: “I’m normally nervous but when I first met Lynn she introduced herself to me and I was sorta taken over really!”

Roland: “I said you fell into it easily.”

Curt: “Yes, that’s a fair comment, give him a point.”

Can you remember the date of Curt’s wedding anniversary?

Roland: “Well it’s in December (much deep thinking for a while here). I’d say it’s December 18th.”

Curt’s answer: “December 18th.”

Roland (ecstatic): I remembered, I remembered!”

What’s Curt’s most annoying habit?

Roland (laughing more and more as he thinks about the answer): “When he’s had a few drinks he keeps repeating himself. He’ll repeat the same sentence to you over and over again, and you go “Yeah Curt, right Curt, really Curt!””

Curt’s answer: “I repeat myself a lot, don’t I?”

Roland (so excited he starts drumming with his hands on the table in triumph): “HAH! So you know you do it!”

Curt: “Of course I know I do it. While I’m repeating myself you stand there and go mmm, mmm, mmm, and look incredibly bored!”

What’s Curt’s favourite television programme?

Roland: “Oh that’s really easy, it’s The Young Ones.”

Curt’s answer: “Oh that’s obvious, it’s The Young Ones.”

And the winner is:

Curt scores 8 and a half points and Roland scores a perfect 10 out of 10

Roland: “I did extremely well, didn’t I?”

Curt: “I think we both did pretty well, in fact, maybe we should get married!”

[the-cat-chat]

September 23, 2023

Friday the 13th (1980)

A group of camp counselors trying to reopen a summer camp called Crystal Lake, which has a grim past, are stalked by a mysterious killer.

JayBell: Okay I have some things to say about this movie. I want to start by saying the music is pretty epic. But here's the thing--the music is almost too intense for the actual events shown on camera. The music deserves a better movie.

The movie follows a group of young people, but honestly, their characters are without distinct personalities and they all blend together in my mind. The only people that stand out are Alice, simply because she's the survivor, and Ned because he's insufferably annoying. Side note, Ned disappears and gets killed offscreen (good riddance) but then the rest of them don't even wonder where he is for hours and hours?

Now let's discuss Alice and the final fight with mommy dearest. First off, the bad guy (spoilers!) just turns out to be a little old lady. And not even a superpowered, superstrong one either (like seriously how'd she stab through a bed like that with her spindly arms?). Just a normal, crazy lady (albeit possessed or in communication with Jason). So a young, fit woman versus an old lady shouldn't be that difficult of a fight. The final fight I think is almost stupid. Alice manages to knock out old lady and instead of tying her up or anything, she just runs away, and the old lady just gets up and finds her again. This happens more than once, and you'd think that Alice would change her approach, but no. Also, it appears that Alice has the chance to drive away in a car at one point, but because she sees a dead body in the car, she runs away. Girl, just push the dead body over and drive the dang car!!

Anyways, you can see this movie makes me frustrated. With that said, I'm glad we watched it simply because you've got to watch the "classics" at least once to say you did.

Rating: 4.5/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: I don’t know what possessed me (hehe) to wanna watch this for our kickoff spooky season movie, but the second I thought it I was like yesss!

Never seen it? Check.✔️

Classic slasher movie? Check. ✔️

Potential 80s Cringey Radness?

Checkcheckcheck.✔️

Ummmm, but yeahhh. I reallly don’t know how to feel. Like it was SOMETHING. But what exactly? Pls nobody murder me plllsss. 👹 First and foremost, I know it’s a scwwaaary summer camp in the woods- this guy- this guy!?!? I did the math- all the little gossips are like “he sank $25,000 into the camp,” ummmm so why does it feel you could get tetanus just thinking about the camp. Bc that’s a whole lotta cheese today and whatever his name that owns it bc I legit forget- all that comes to mind is Willy?? Was too busy with his serial killer vibes and mustache to not literally set up the perfect scene for horrific events.

Anyyyway I was so mad the whooooole movie like “what are these idiots thinking?” They’re all like having a chill good time like they wouldn’t get the heebie jeebies being there- then all the friends suddenly drop like fly, and it’s no big dealio Right? Until it’s a real big dealio. And I was irritated and I know this can’t be helped at all bc mostly I’m kinda peeved it’s the 80s. Bc it feels like it makes them dumber. No one’s checking the phone like let’s try calling for help. Or drive these idling car out of here. Or here’s one - I’m no runner- But I’d be running like a gazelle away from Granny. (We’ll revisit her). Even if it was 10 MILES. And theeeeeennnn to get in a boat. Knowing the kid who has *spoiler 40 years later* drowned in that lake you put said boat into. And yah know what?? Fall asleep. Sounds good.

The movie wasn’t scary at all how I imagined it was going to be. Until Jason’s mother entered the chat. She was horrific, kinda reminded me of my grandmother. Ummm but she was loco. And I’m still stunned like did she lose it, is Jason possessing her, is it a little of both. But it’s fine bc she was terrifying and I really didn’t expect it to be Jason’s mom, even tho I’ve heard this and that about the movies over time.

The music!!! Was so nerve racking- im anxious just recalling it- but until Jason mom is on the screen it’s really a waste. Bc like I said all the camp counselors are bumbling doofs and nothing they did or happened seemed to match the mood and level of fear in the music.

* just a few side notes. Two things- why was the Kevin Bacon sex scene so weird and slow and long. I could’ve done without. But I guess it’s to throw you off the scent for what happens after. Annnd that head chop. Okkkay. Wowzers.

I know this is a collection of unhinged ranting but that’s how I’ve felt thinking about it all week since we watched it. And I also am just confused about the lore and story of Jason that I feel a need to watch the other movies in the franchise. Buuutttt idk. That’s a concerning thought. I think it was a solid slasher movie. But do I necessarily get the big hype that it’s the best ever???? (That’s probs Jason takes Manhattan)

Rating: 4.5/10 👻 Ghosts

[nohbuhdeeshome]

Why keep him naked, in panties and plugged?

Why should I keep him naked?  Won't he get cold?

Do you and your boy 'argue' about the temperature in the house?  He says, it's too hot, you say, it's too cold.  Keep him naked and you can keep it as warm as you like 24/7 and you will both be happy.  This releases his need to even consider lowering the temp in the house.

Also, keeping him naked while you remain clothed is a key tool of psychological dominance.  This keeps him vulnerable and limited in his freedom.  While you remain in full comfort and control of yours and his freedom.

This vulnerability in your presence when you presents none of your own act as a consistent reminder of his station in your world as your submissive.  Every interaction in this unbalanced dynamic acts as a subtle reminder of this fact, especially when correcting him.

When naked he can't leave the house, essentially he is confined to a limited space.  Aside from his real world responsibilities, this confined space becomes his entire home world.  A world you control and dictate the rules to.  A world you task him with keeping up and maintaining as it is your queendom and he your property.

But why panties?  I am not into crossdressers.

This isn't about crossdressing in and of itself, so let's just put that aside for the moment.  Now weather he has told you he like to wear panties or not, this, first and foremost is about creating that unbalanced dynamic of power between you and he at its most basic level.  It's like saying to him constantly, "I have you so wrapped around my finger I can, and will make do whatever I want."

It reminds him again that he is less than.  And as your submissive this is important, especially if your submissive is an alpha himself.  This keeps his ego in check, not only at home, but in the real world as well.  As he knows, no matter how tough, big and bad he may look, he is still in a chastity cage and wearing panties...  so go buy him pair that you want to see him in and surprise him, you won't regret it...though he might, lol.

Now back to the crossdressing aspect of this.  Yes, by catagorical qualification this is in fact crossdressing.  But, this does not mean he wants to go out in full drag and cruise gay bars...but it might, lol. 

All joking aside, for most guys into chastity play and the FLR panties is as far as it goes.  Maybe, some panties hoes and a garter or even full lingerie once or twice, but frankly that is a lot of work for your average guy.  Of course, you are the domme, so if that is what you want then that is what your submissive will give to you.  Remember, this is your game, he is your willing and wanting toy, and you decide how far to take it.

Do you like Halloween?  Dressing up in a sexy costume?  What woman with a modicum of confidence hasn't dressed up in sexy cat costume for devil's night or for their partner at some point? Well dammit, why do women get to be the only ones who get dressed up sexy for their partners in the bedroom?  Why do women get all the fun of sexy costumes?

Guy like to dress for their ladies as well and now they even make panties and lingerie specifically for men.  I'm not going to give any sites, but just search the web, they are easy to find.  Also, go shopping with your subby, it will make for fun foreplay.

Why should I keep him plugged?

Firstly, think of the butt plug as a chastity cage for his asshole.  It keeps it occupied, and prevents it normal use until you allow otherwise.  It also stimulates his prostate, forcing him to leak all day long, keeping him aroused and focused on pleasing you.  Think of it as a way to tease him with out lifting a finger.  Another, penetrating reminder of his submission to his owner.

Keeping your submissive plugged also forces your submissive to clean himself out multiple time a day. 

It is best to have him install a detachable enema shower head to a shower adjacent to your toilet.  Use only warm water as cold water will cause cramping and discomfort.  Make sure he cleans himself for at least 15 minutes and until the water comes out perfectly clear at least three times in a row.  Then plug him up. Once he knows the routine and gets used to the shower head he can handle this on his own.

Why so frequently and so long?  Well, he will rarely pass gas and when he does it will be much less noticable.

Also, you can fuck him in the ass anytime you want without much concern for prep-work  or of a possible mess for him to deal with.  The plug will make sure he is primed and ready for your use as well.

Reminding, him to stay clean and plugged for your use will also help you maintain that psychological domination over him. 

So, if he is plugged for you, acknowledge his efforts by thanking him for remaining  plugged for you, because it does take work and he does it because he loves you.

All three of these activities work together with chastity to keep your submissive in that submissive state of servile bliss for both of your benefit.  They work to your advantage to keep him in the proper mental state and keep him focused on your needs, wants and desires.  The chastity cage acts as the cap to his bottle, so to speak.  So, shake him up by keeping him naked in panties and plugged and watch him explode, lol.

[here4theheartbreak]

Look at all those pretty photocards!! Amazing~~! The bread ones are sooo cute! 🍞 I HOPE YOU CAN GET/TRADE FOR ALL THE ONES YOU WANT ✨💛 I don't collect photocards because I think it would drive me insane and it might become the start of my villain origin story. Although, I am contemplating buying the fan kit this year because of the tarot-type cards. It's crazy how the kit is £12 but the shipping is £30. Still, I might get it, we'll see.😩🤣

It's so tragic but so true! Someone being... or appearing to be... a decent celebrity is SO rare that it's both thrilling and baffling when you find someone that seems genuinely good. The bar is THAT low. It's lower than low. It's like we're measuring it from the other side of the planet. You've gotta go through the core of the earth and back out again to discover how low the bar actually is.

It honestly seems pretty easy not to use gendered language in songs? Especially in Korean songs? Because it doesn't seem that necessary linguistically? I mean, you don't even use she/he/they to describe your pets, it's always just 'the dog', or 'our cat', or their actual name. 🤷‍♀️

I also agree that using 'girl' in fan songs feels especially alienating. I was actually thinking about this at the Yongguk concert last week. My man was singing 'all my girls be smiling, all my girls be wilding' with his whole chest at the fans and I'm like 'but bro I can see at least three guys from here'. It felt like such a shame in a way? I know it wasn't his intention, but it feels exclusionary to me (and I'm saying that as a part of the 'target' audience). In the future, I hope more artists make their music gender neutral. 🧡✨

Plus, in love songs, let's be real, you can just use 'you' or avoid using pronouns altogether. It's not that hard? And it instantly makes your song a song for everyone?? And it makes it a song that your fans can sing thinking about anyone?? It makes so much sense. In fact, it actually makes MORE sense to do that.

That's the dream! That's the K-pop utopia. Honestly, I wish every fan, of every group, would be seen (and treated) as a fan first and foremost — regardless of their gender identity and/or their presentation. (And the same goes for things like age, race, appearance etc.) A fan is a fan. It SHOULD be that simple. Everyone who's buying albums, going to fansigns, waiting in line, showing up at shows, they're all there for the same reason, with the same heart, and the same passion. It seems so simple and so obvious to me that it's always jarring to realise, over and over again, that that's just NOT how it happens a lot (most?) of the time.

We've learnt the hard way! 😂 Vetting and investigating a group is basically ingrained in me at this point. It's future damage control. It's at-the-door vibe checking. I just don't want to actively support/invest in someone I wouldn't support in my actual life, I don't want to support someone who wouldn't support me, I don't want to support someone who I believe wouldn't stand up for a marginalised person, I don't want to support someone whose persona/personality I have to keep making excuses for. I'm not an idiot. I know they're all normal people. I know even the 'good' ones are almost certainly gonna make a few 'mistakes'. BUT some of these people... jfc.👀 And I don't mind listening to artists casually, and not caring about their 'brand', as it were, but if I'm investing in someone I want to feel confident(?) comfortable(?) at ease(?) in doing so.

THIS! Seeing someone for yourself tells you/shows you such a lot. Going off secondhand accounts is never ideal for building up an image of someone and/or their behaviour. Videos reveal a lot, especially when that person doesn't know the recording is going anywhere. Personally (secondhand account incoming), I knew Ateez were good since their hi touch back in the day because my mom loves ateez, and she went before me in the line, and I got to see exactly how they treated her, and how they spoke to her, and how they looked at her as she moved on to the next member. And they were not only super excited to see her but they were also VERY polite and took a little extra time to say hello. So, from then on, I was like, if nothing else, they have impeccable manners. So, let that be confirmed once and for all... 😂🌸

That's actually SO true. They could easily be more neutral in their support. They never had to do any of those things to that degree. They could definitely do less and still be seen as decent people. Very decent people, even. Honestly, you only engage in that way, that consistently, if you genuinely want to. (And I hope they do lose a few anti-lgbt fans every time they engage with the community. Byeeeee~!)

I forgot about the whole 'the group colour should be a rainbow' thing! 🌈🥺 I loved the thanxx styling so much! I would get a little rainbow coloured 'thanxx' tattoo in a heartbeat. What a great thing that was. All those tiny rainbows everywhere. We were so blessed!!

Ateez are not afraid to play boy/boy when they do those kinds of things. You never really know what you're gonna get! I love that they'll just do it. And that it's never the basis of a bad joke. They just enjoy it and have fun, and no one is thinking too hard about it. It just is.

Yeosang, our strong but tiny man. The members. The company staff. Most of the fans. We're all just out here waiting to do whatever Kang Yeosang wants us to do. Everyone's desperate to be of service. He tells us to jump... and we're all clamouring to find out how high.

THE NEW HAIR COLOURS!!! The return of blonde Yunho? Red-brown Jongho?? Red San??? Neon green Yeosang???? AMAZING. A M A Z I N G 💚

Also, I saw that clip of San complaining about how Atiny draw him again this morning and it really makes me laugh every time! The man is so serious and so offended... but it looks exactly like him when he smiles?? Good job Atiny. You're absolutely right. ✨🎨

Someday I will be able to answer an ask in a reasonable amount of time I stg.

Anyways. Oh I was very weak. And ended up with a whole new stack of Outlaws 🙈 - in my defense! I was ordering sth from a KR shop that I like for a couple of my friends and the albums are so much cheaper over there (like 14 usd for a regular version and like 10 usd for a platform) - it’s just the shipping that is high, and since I was already placing an order for folks, it didn’t actually raise the shipping all that much to add in a few >.> more albums… And I may or may not have broken down and gotten a lightstick. (Again - so much cheaper from KR, esp if you’re already placing a big order, it only bumps the shipping up a few dollars.) I also ended up getting a couple platforms; a few of the pcs in them (the album ones in particular) are so cute and I figured I’d grab a couple random ones and see what I got.

So here’s my new set of pulls >.> I’m delighted with the SanSang unit pcs - I was already eyeing buying them bc they’re so cute, the scream I let out when I pulled them.

And bc my friends all collect these other members I’ve been able to trade for a few more that I want >.> Including peeking Wooyoung ��.

The platforms tho - cracked me up - random, ofc - but I got San for one pack, and was so delighted - I also pulled Wooyoung’s sticker in that pack lol. The second pack I pulled was Wooyoung and believe it or not… I pulled San’s sticker in his! 🤣Apparently can’t keep them apart even in random album inclusions lmao - Here’s those sets.

Honestly - I was looking at PC templates last night to see who/what all I wanted and I realized that if I was to collect all of these pcs I would 100% lose my mind, there’s like 60 per member per comeback what the fuck. So Instead I’ve made a list of the few that I find really really cute and want and will slowly gather them over the months.

I ended up lucking out in a major way last week and found someone selling a lot of about 25 albums, with all inclusions except pcs, for what amounted to under 6usd per album. They span from debut to Fever pt 3; there’s a number of duplicates but I don’t mind that so much, since it lets me pick and choose which version I want, and then I can easily resell the ones I don’t need, or gift them to my friends. It’s the entire Treasure series tho, which I have been trying to find for a decent price for weeks V_V

Even a couple of duplicates of some of them, I was so excited bc I know a couple folks in my friend group here that are looking for some of the ones that are duplicated so I can offload them pretty quick. So once that comes in, I think i’ll have all their KR releases (and I don’t collect JPN albums for any group but SHINee bc they simply don’t display as well in jewel cases 🤷🏻‍♂️ - and I collect for display and also bc I do genuinely like looking through the phonebooks more than once, so JPN releases usually are lacking that anyways unless you get the limited ones.

Anyways - I saw the fan kit! I love the tarot type set up, it’s so cute. I absolutely adore tarot cards and prophecy type cards and collect fun decks, so I knew I needed to have it, I ordered it last week - I’d been intending on getting the membership anyways. I’m so used to excessively high shipping bc I tend to order my stuff from KR when I can (it usually arrives way faster and the price over there plus shipping is about equal to the price from US based shops bc they raise the price of the item to cover their import fees anyways, so it makes sense to pay a couple bucks more and have the album a few days after release instead of saving money but waiting months for the US shop to get it in and ship it.

It is so so easy not to gender KR songs from what I’ve seen; and very obvious since most of the time when they gender it, they add in the english word instead like… Please don’t?

Honestly I would have gotten so uncomfortable hearing that tbh (Yongguk). My instant thought would’ve been like oh, he doesn’t want me here, I wonder if he sees me if he’ll be uncomfortable :/ I hope he doesn’t notice me standing here — which is literally the opposite reaction you want at a concert - afaik you want your idols to see you! (Except Rie at the OOO concert - could have done without him seeing me and my friend absolutely ugly crying over him but life goes on lol). But yeah no, especially since idols are aiming more for international appeal these days, they really should start considering that there are a lot of fans that don’t match the stereotypical KR fan, and they’re gonna fall flat in a lot of areas if they don’t broaden their appeal to a variety of people - ages, genders, etc.

Also yes - I don’t expect idols to be perfect. Tbh if a celeb has never had a misstep I might side eye them as hard as if they were horrible - bc nobody is perfect and if they’re that good at hiding everything, what are they hiding, you know? Like I want someone who’s a good person but a real person - not someone who’s a master manipulator either.

Awww - it’s so sweet that they were nice to your mom! Sometimes older fans get overlooked (or hated on in fandom itself) so it’s always super nice to see when they’re treated well. I mean, lbvs - who do the idols think are actually paying their bills? It’s not the 12-15 year old fans, for the most part - it’s those fans’ parents and the adult fans who set aside their own income for this 🤣

And yeah no - their support is very obvious and I think very genuine. Their willingness to work with queer folk too - that trans comedian the members do a show with sometimes (I can’t recall her name, but she’s hilarious and so brash. The way my heart soared when Wooyoung called her noona with zero hesitation). And then the few doing the collar with Pentatonix, who don’t hide their queer identity, etc. - I think those sorts of behaviors show a far more honest comfort and ease with people of different walks of life and communities and it’s just so nice to see. 😭

I think the thanxx rainbows are so adorable; I have one photo that I adore with San with the rainbow on his ear - it’s so cute V_V - I like that song a lot too, I think the meaning vibes well with queer folks too in a way. It’s unfortunate that the song has been soured with the CA issue, bc I feel like it get overlooked for that and the meaning is actually really good and the song is really well put together.

I desperately want an ateez tattoo; I have a perfect spot on my arm for it to link together my sleeve but I need to decide which design I want and which song bc there’s a good number I’ve got ideas for and only so much skin left lol. (Normally I get a tattoo for each concert I attend but I might get this one a bit early lol.)

Ah - I am of the minority here but I cannot take Yeo seriously with that hair 😂 the black stripes stripes made it so much worse - this kid walked straight out of an early 2000’s hot topic and definitely writes his aol messages with ‘rawr’ and has far too many x’s in his profile name. 14-16 year old me would have been absolutely enamored with him and think he’s the coolest guy ever. But I do absolutely love San’s hair. That shade of red is either a perfect match or a horrible nightmare on idols - and most of them fall to the nightmare side of things - he manages to pull it off so delightfully imo and I love it. I’m so late on this ask that Yunho has already changed his hair 😂 - I do really like the dark kinda grey-blue he’s got now too. Also Mingi! I love what he’s done with his hair! The cut really suits his face and I actually really dig the blonde and black look he’s got going on.

And omg that video - I found that super early on when I was getting into them and it made me love him so much. He takes zero shit from fans and has no problem calling them out on things - I love it so much and it made me so endeared to him… But now that I’ve watched more of their stuff… Sorry man, atiny is right, you do smile like that - it’s absolutely precious - but it’s also accurate. 🤣

[cicadaclan-archive]

Who are your top two clan leaders and what abt them makes them ur faves... and also who's ur absolute least favorite leader out of them all n why?

well if u know me, first and foremost is blackstar. i have bias for him as a kid, and i love him conceptually now as well, acknowledging that some thoughts i have of him are from my own interpretation,

it's so tasty tho, I think i was definitely onto something when i was little. guy who supported both brokenstar and tigerstar rising to become leader and ultimately resolving to do a better job than the both of them? brokenstar was his old friend and he sincerely believed along with the rest of shadowclan that tigerstar could improve their odds? like cmon man. he has so much flavour to him,

and arguably he Did do better than the both of them, over a longer period of time. for one, not killing his own apprentices thru unjust practices, and thinking of his clan first over revenge or petty grievances. there were a lot of reasons for everyone from all three of the other clans to mistrust him, for what he did under both bad leaders, and he's the one who calls out lionblaze for being literally a murderer. and he Is. lionblaze sucks.

he aimed to steady out the life of shadowclan, and from what i remember, his arrogance took a back burner to consideration for his clan. strong but not cruel, as a group instead of individual. i think he succeeded in the end, up until he grew too weak to properly lead any longer,

tallstar, messy as he is, i still enjoy him a lot as a leader. windclan was put thru a lot very early on, and that would throw anyone's abilities into question, but he managed to keep everyone together long enough to return home. despite the rising xenophobia, he chose to hear out fireheart over resolving to battle w thunderclan in the middle of the first arc, and then later banded up to keep from being driven out again. he was a cool old man, making more choices on his own judgement than being pressured by his warriors, which i can't say the same for peaceful or resolute leaders like pine and sunstar,

special shout out to nightstar bc i like shadowclan, even if his leader status can be argued against. he was never accepted by starclan, but i like to think he maintained the position otherwise shadowclan cld have felt even more lost than they already did after brokenstar was driven out,

now for least favourite ... i have complicated feelings abt onestar. was he an interesting antagonist? yah, id say he was, but god damn did his decisions not seem utterly stupid at times. he was infinitely more interesting than mudclaw in the end, but in his aim to prove other cats wrong abt something that's objectively helped windclan in the past, he ruined a lot of his personal relationships in the process,

he was self-involved in a similar but opposing way to tallstar, where tallstar did act in self interest to hopefully benefit the clan, with his own biases in play, onestar sabotaged clan relations in some attempt to make himself out as stronger. he wanted to look better than someone who relied on outside help, but man.. he didn't need to do all that,

but he thought he did, bc of the whole undermining of mudclaws rebellion. he narrowly didn't become leader until the moonpool was founded, and there'd be a good chance the rebellion caused cats to continue to question his leadership even after it was squashed. it cld have all been in his own head tho; he knew the most how close he grew w firestar,

i think im also still sad how he did so much that his relationship w firestar became unsalvagable, even for fire. and then firestar died, w them as enemies. :(

[amjustagirl]

Love knows not its depth (until the hour of separation) 

pairing: Kuroo x f! reader  genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! warnings: a tiny smudge of suggestive content wc: 4.9k m.list ~ taglist. ~

a/n: this is my rendition of a grown up Kuroo. life has been a little hectic for me recently, so i’m only getting around to posting it now. pls be kind and i hope y’all love it <3 

“I need a break.”

Kuroo continues to snore. You are unsurprised he doesn’t hear you. After all, he came home glassy eyed, smelling strongly of alcohol after yet another night of drinks with his boss before quickly falling asleep in bed. It’s what he does most weekday nights, leaving you alone at home to manage your two daughters and tuck them into bed. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro.”

You are too tired to even tell him how you feel. You have a career of your own, two daughters to raise, a never ending list of chores and errands that must be done. You are a mother, a wife, a career woman. You have so many roles to play yet there is no space for you. 

You must do something, anything or risk your heart imploding in your very chest. 

You cannot survive that. 

The next morning, you call your boss, ask for a day off. Then you pack your girls off to your mother’s place with two little suitcases with toys and clothes enough for a long weekend before you take the train to Hakone, check yourself into the ryokan with a view of Mt. Fuji that you spent your honeymoon at - except this time, you’re alone (but then again, you’ve been lonely for so long, you hardly notice the difference anymore).

You dip yourself into the hot waters of the onsens, watch bamboo sway in the breeze. It’s been at least a year since you’ve been even able to take a bath uninterrupted. There’s always something - Aiko needing help with her homework, Fumiko whining for another piece of mochi, your boss calling to chase for yet another report, so all you’ve ever had time for is a hurried shower before placating your daughters or seating yourself in front of your laptop to deal with your boss. 

Finally, you’ve stolen a day to yourself. It’s absolute bliss. 

The water is kind to you. Its heat soothes your aching muscles, the rising steam steadies your breath. You walk out of the baths feeling refreshed, renewed, but when you enter your room you find Kuroo Tetsuro waiting for you. 

“I’ve been calling your phone all afternoon”, he says, face pinched. “I was worried.”

“Were you?” you say before you can stop yourself. “Really?” 

“Of course”, he says, uncrossing his legs to stand. “You’re my wife and the mother of my children, of course I care.”

Wife. Mother. Employee. 

The roles that life has handed you haunts you again. There is no escape for you. 

Your skin suddenly feels as if it’s stretched too tight over your frame. Your bones rattle, brittle. They threaten to break if you take another breath. Yet you laugh and laugh and laugh, the sound spilling from your lips filling the room, suffocating the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you really cared, you would have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between bouts of laughter. “I tried fixing myself with a break but you can’t even give me that.” 

Kuroo stares at you, equal parts horrified and confused. He takes a hesitant step forward towards you before thinking the better of it, swerving over to the kettle instead, clutching it as if it holds the cure to your madness. 

“Calm down”, he says, “take a seat”, and you do. He offers you a cup of tea. You accept it, even though you’re still shaking from the aftershock of your laughter. “Drink”, he says, and you bring the cup to your lips, though you wonder absently why you taste salt in the bitter tea. 

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.” 

You want to tell him that you’re not strong enough to do what’s expected of you. You want to tell him that you’re drowning from the weight of being his wife, the mother of his kids, from being a working woman that he can be proud of. You want to tell him that you understand his career is important, but so is yours, and you can’t carry the weight of the world alone. 

But that would take too many words, and you are far, far too tired for that. 

So you say blankly - “I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

His face falls. 

You should remember that Kuroo Tetsuro, first and foremost, is a child scarred by his parents’ divorce. You should remember that you made promises that you and he would never put your daughters through that. But you’ve floated beyond hysteria into a grey indifference, your mind too broken, too tired, too numb to consider him when you can barely even hold on to yourself. 

You don’t even notice the hot tears soaking through your yukata. You are deaf to his pleas to give him another chance. There is nothing left in you to give because you’ve poured all you’ve had into him, into your family, into your job. You are so, so empty, and you just sit and sip your tea and wonder idly if the warmth from the liquid you’re ingesting will make you feel a little more alive, or if it’s possible to ease the dull ache in your heart. 

It is only when you wake up the next day and the sun is high in the sky that you register that he rolled out your futon for you, tucked you into bed, and kissed your forehead as a goodnight and goodbye. But all of this is washed away by the relief you feel when you read the note he’s left behind telling you that he’s returned to Tokyo, and to enjoy your break. 

So you do. 

You relish every bite of the meals you have at the ryokan. It’s nice not having to cook or scarf down your food at your office desk for once. You fill your time flitting between the onsens and curling up in your room with a book, taking frequent cat naps until tomorrow comes around again and it’s time to check out and head home. 

There’s a brief moment of surprise when the reception informs you politely that your husband already paid your bill - but you suppose that’s just Tetsuro being efficient at racking up credit card points. The bullet train takes you back to Tokyo, and a couple stops on the subway takes you home.  

“Okaeri”, you call softly out of habit, not expecting anyone to respond, but Kuroo responds with an even softer ‘Tadaima’, striding over to take your bags from you and usher you into the apartment. There are pink roses sitting in a vase, but you pay it no mind. 

“The girls?” you ask, already headed in the direction of their room. 

“I picked them up from your mom”, Kuroo responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed”.

A peek into their room and it settles your mind to see that your girls are safe and sound asleep. 

“Thanks,” you say, back in the kitchen, checking the fridge for what you can whip up for breakfast for you and the girls tomorrow. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

“It’s fine”, Kuroo answers, scratching his head. His hair seems a little more rumpled than usual. “I’ll cover it. I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

“You sure? You don’t have to pay for me, I’ve got money of my own.”

“No, let me pay for it, please. It’s the least I can do.” 

You shrug. “Okay”, you say gracelessly. “Thank you.”

He continues to watch you over the kitchen counter as you lay out bread, eggs, ham, cheese. It’ll do for a quick breakfast for the girls tomorrow, never mind the guilt eating away at you that you really should do better than feeding them processed food all the time. You’re so preoccupied with planning the morning rush, the best way to clear the stack of reports that must have piled up on your desk at work by now that you miss Kuroo rounding the counter to stare down at you worriedly. 

“You haven’t had dinner?” 

“Oh no, I had a bento on the train on the way back.” It’s second nature to you to brush away anyone’s concern. “It’s for the girls’ breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take them to childcare before work tomorrow. Sleep in and take a break.”

“Really?” You stare back at him, confused. He doesn't even take charge of the girls in the mornings when you’re sick, your mother always has to fill in your place. He only ever turns up on the first day of school each year. 

“Yes, of course. In fact, I’ve rearranged my work schedule so I can take them to school all of this week at least.”

“Oh”, you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, I guess. Wake me up if you need my help.”

“I won’t”, he replies, with a cocky smirk that seems almost false. “Goodnight, love.”

You don’t think of Kuroo’s strange behaviour overmuch, falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

Kuroo continues to act strangely all of next week. 

As promised, he takes charge of getting the girls out of bed and ready for school. But you’re taken aback when he starts coming home for dinner, completely floored when he hands you a whole armful of bath salts and orders you to take a relaxing, hot bath while he wrangles both the girls and the washing machine into submission. 

He even calls your mother to ask her to babysit on a Saturday evening so he can take you out for dinner at a fancy restaurant that serves foam instead of food. You manage to stumble through conversation with him - a commendable effort, since it’s been so long since you’ve even held a proper conversation with him besides snatches of discussion about the girls. 

At least until he states during dessert - “we can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

The mousse on your spoon melts by the time you put it down on your plate. 

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls? Is that what this is about?”

Kuroo shakes his head frantically, reaches across the table for your hand, but you yank it away with a glare. The extra rest you’ve gotten this week has injected a little more fight in you. 

“I try my best to be a good wife and mother, but I’m sorry I can’t be perfect and be there for you and the girls 24/7.” You press down on the sliver of cake with a vengeance. Clink! goes the flat of your spoon against the porcelain plate. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but I don’t want to be reliant on you.”

You regret your harsh words when Kuroo slumps back into his chair, murmuring “I just wanted you to be happy. Forget I ever said that.”

He pays the bill and you walk home in silence. He bids you goodnight with a crumpled smile. 

It finally clicks when you are startled awake by Kuroo’s shout of alarm. 

You roll over, grabbing his shoulder to shake him awake from the nightmare that has him in its grip. His eyes jolt open, and the sight of your face makes him sink back into the pillow with a sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave? This is my home, isn’t it?” You mumble, turning your back to him again. 

You feel the bed shift as Kuroo sits up. 

“No”, he rasps, voice rough with sleep. “I was afraid you left me”. 

Oh. So that’s what all of this is about. 

You must stay quiet for far too long, because he gingerly crawls over to you. 

“Dearest”, he says, your heart suddenly aching because you don’t remember the last time you heard him use that pet name with any amount of affection. “Darling”, he tries again, pawing at your back. You shut your eyes resolutely and refuse to turn to face him. 

He doesn’t give up, even though the distance between you seems to yawn wide and wider with each passing second. 

“Are you?” he asks, his words small, shrunken in the still, dark room. “Going to leave me, I mean.” 

No, you’re about to say, the word balancing at the tip of your tongue but it feels wrong. Your break has given you the space to breathe, the time to think. It’s made you realise what you’ve said to him in the ryokan that night remains true. 

This week has shown you that Kuroo can do better as a husband, as a father if he wants to. But he’s poisoned your marriage with neglect, forced you to dress up your sadness in silence, allowed your resentment to fester and simmer into frigid indifference. If you reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him, it’s only because you’re too tired to, not because you actually love him anymore. 

“I don’t know, Tetsuro. Our daughters deserve to grow up with both their parents, but I’m not sure I want them to learn from my example that it’s okay to shoulder the weight of marriage, parenthood and a full time job all by themselves. Your dreams and career are important, I know, but I’m just so tired of being alone in this marriage when it was always supposed to be a partnership between me and you.” 

You hear him choke back a sob. You should comfort him, but the exhaustion you feel at being honest with him, with yourself, weighs your bones down, forces you to sink further down into your mattress. 

“I’m sorry”, he finally says. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro”, you whisper brokenly, clutching the blankets to your chin. “I think I deserve better.”

“I know. I’ll make it better, I promise.” 

You want to ask him how, but your eyelids grow heavy, and you allow yourself to submerge into slumber. 

You’re not sure what to expect, but the ground beneath your feet shifts. Things start to change. 

Kuroo continues to take your daughters to childcare in the morning on the way to work as he did last week. That very weekend, he straps Fumiko to his chest, takes Aiko by her hand, and within an hour at the department store aided by a flash of his credit card, he purchases a dishwasher and robot vacuum for the house. He loads the dishes without you asking, runs the robot vacuum remotely once a day. It buys you time to breathe, a little more time to sleep. 

He doesn’t always make it home in time for dinner, but he tries his best to rush home so he can read the girls a bedtime story and tuck them into bed. 

“Dada”, Fumiko lisps, chubby fists wound around Kuroo’s tie. ‘I wanna hear another princess story!” 

“No Fumiko! Papa promised to tell us how he met mama!” Aiko prods Kuroo’s side with the wooden doll Yaku sent from Russia that you know he abhors. ‘Keep your promises, papa!” 

“Alright, settle down you monsters. I’ll tell you two stories if you promise to go to sleep right after that.” The girls cheer. “Now. Let’s see. A long, long time ago, your papa met your mama when she decided to beat him up because she thought he was trying to steal her food.” 

“You were trying to steal my food”, you interrupt, leaning against the doorway amused. “You didn’t stop til I stabbed you with my fork.”

He glances up, surprised when you sit beside him on the bed. Then he grins. 

“You left it on the table, dearest. What was a guy supposed to think?” 

“Mama, please let dada tell the story”, Aiko interjects with a huff. 

“Hurry up, dada! I want the princess story next!” Fumiko pulls at her silly dada’s shirt, pouting. 

You both laugh. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips when his eyes meet yours. 

Travelling all around Japan is still part of his job as a marketing director of the Japanese Volleyball Association. But now Kuroo pares it down to the bare minimum, makes sure he’s always back by the weekend at the very least to sweep the girls in his arms and shoo you off for a break of afternoon tea with your friends or shopping with your mom. 

“Will you be ok when I’m gone?”

You hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

He bends down to kiss Aiko on her forehead, pinch Fumiko’s cheek playfully. 

“Yes. Well. I’ll come home soon”, he says, quietly. You startle slightly as he brushes his thumb over your wrist, lets it drift over your pulse point. “Please wait for me.” 

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ll see you soon then”, you reply. His smile widens, his eyes are hopeful, bright. 

On the weekends, he stops flitting off for work functions and events. Instead, now he joins you for lunches at the kaiten zushi near your house, indulging the girls by ordering yet another plate of sushi just so Aiko has another chance to win a toy from the gachapon and Fumiko has another chance at feeling grown up when she lifts the plate from the conveyor belt. He stops ducking out from dinners at the grandparents’ place - both his and yours. Your mom stops giving him dirty looks when he actually turns up more than three times in a row with sake in hand. 

Once every so often, he even throws little parties for your family of four, going so far as to buy a frilly pink apron that makes your daughters giggle when he whips it out for the first time. After a few mishaps (and a number of frantic calls to Fukunaga), he masters how to make takoyaki and okonomiyaki, and in the colder months, he makes steaming pots of nabe and shabu shabu. 

“Itadakimasu” you murmur, and the girls follow suit. “It tastes good”, you say. 

He ducks his head bashfully, pink dusting the column of his neck. 

“Thank you”, he replies. “That means a lot, coming from you.” 

You start to savour the bubbles of happiness in your chest when you see how your daughters’ eyes shine when they see their papa whip out the pink apron. You learn to laugh when you hear the pitter patter of little feet, their delighted squeals and shrieks when they tell you the latest exploits their silly papa is cooking up - sparklers under the stars one weekend, a nerf gun fight, the next.

The weight on your shoulders grows lighter and lighter until one day you hardly notice it at all. 

“What’s wrong?” you frown at the sight of your husband dashing out of your bedroom, hair a frazzled mess. 

He whips around at the sound of your voice. “Oh. Oh.” He approaches you, slowly, carefully. “You’re still here.”

Your frown deepens. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed. Tetsuro, is everything alright?” 

He nods. “It’s fine - I just... I just woke up and thought you were gone.” 

You take a closer look. It’s dark, but the shadows of the night fail to hide the purple smudges beneath his eyes, the fine lines carved into his brow. His shoulders are bowed, his lips downturned and he looks broken, battered.    

Your heart hurts for him. 

“I’m here”, you say, beckoning him towards you. Physical affection has been scarce between you two for so, so long but he looks so distraught it’s only natural to pull him close, let him rest his head on your lap. “I’m here, Tetsuro. I’m not about to run off into the night – you know I don’t like the cold.”

He doesn’t laugh at your feeble joke. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?” 

“Yes”, you say firmly, combing your fingers through his hair, rubbing circles along his back. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do.”

You can feel him sag in relief. 

“You don’t have to work yourself to the bone for me. That’s – that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired, you need to take a break.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can bear it as long as you don’t leave me.” 

“Tetsuro –“ 

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his. 

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he begs, head bowed. “I know I’ve been a shit husband to you for so long. It’s no excuse, but I thought - ” he swallows heavily, waits until his voice stops wavering. “I thought we were ok, ‘cos we didn’t fight, not like my parents did before – before my mother left.”

“I was too tired to fight with you”, you say simply. 

He nods once, jerkily. “I know – I know that now. When you disappeared that day, I didn’t know what to do. I went to your mom’s place and she reamed me out, screamed at me in front of the neighbours. I took the kids back, and it made me realise how fucking hard it was for you to do it all alone.” He inhales, closing his eyes as if the memory aches. “I know it’s late but I’ve changed, I swear. The girls need you. I need you. I’ll do anything as long as you stay.”

His fingers are freezing, but you do not pull away. Not when the desperation reflected in his irises makes your heart lurch in pain.

“It was hard”, you confess, and he shudders, struck in the chest by your honesty. “It was so hard, Tetsuro. You hurt me so damn much that I think I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was really functioning for a while. For a long while.”  

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, and you nod shakily. 

“I know”, you reply, reaching out a hand to cup his face, a bittersweet twist to your lips as he melts into your touch. “That’s a chapter of my life, of our marriage that can’t be re-written. We can’t rewind that. But the past few months have been so different. I – you’ve shown me you’ve changed. And I think –“

You fall silent. 

He prompts you. “Dearest?” 

You recall the glimmer of light in your daughters’ eyes every morning when he takes their hands to walks them to school. You hear the echoes of their laughter, the lilt in their sweet voices every night when they welcome him home. You think of the tea parties he throws, the blanket forts he builds, the frilly pink apron he wears without shame and the bedtime stories he weaves every night.

“I think”, you say, with a smile that reminds him of the rising sun. “I think we can make this work again.” 

He stares at you until the weight of your words dawns upon him, and he surges forward to fold you into his arms. 

“Thank you”, he whispers into the shell of your ear. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.” 

“Don’t thank me, you silly man”, you nuzzle into his neck sleepily, draping your arms around his waist. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He laughs wetly, cradling you close as you fall asleep against his chest, soothed by his heartbeat and the tenderness in his gaze.  

Fumiko wakes you up unceremoniously before the sun even rises by climbing into your lap, and you open your eyes to Aiko pouting, hands on hips, demanding to know what’s for breakfast, and dada, dada, make a ham sandwich, pretty please with a cherry on the top. 

“You guys are little monsters”, Kuroo teases with dancing eyes. “Can’t even give your papa a break to snuggle up to your mama.” 

The girls shriek in dismay. “Don’t be mean”, you admonish him gently. 

He mock sniffs. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

Aiko and Fumiko crowd the sofa, clamouring to give their papa a kiss, but he stalls them with an imperious wave of his hand. 

“This morning, only a kiss from your mama can chase my crankiness away”. His tone is teasing, but his shoulders remain tense.  

“Nonsense. You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine”, you scold, swatting his arm lightly as the girls giggle. 

“Yours do!” he protests, and you roll your eyes as you press your lips to the corner of his lips, laughing when he puffs out his chest and declares his day can now start, that everything’ll be as right as rain.

Some days are full of sunshine, whilst others are full of rain. That’s life – but it’s bearable, enjoyable even, now that you and Kuroo face each day together, thanking the sun when it shines, and splashing through puddles on rainy days. 

Things recalibrate. 

The mornings are his domain now – he’s a master at concocting the most random breakfast items to satisfy your finnicky daughters. Aiko sniffs when she informs you that she’d prefer her papa to braid her hair, thank you very much, and when you shoot a look of death at Kuroo, he can’t even keep his face straight, his trademark hyena laugh erupting from his chest. 

You cook dinner in the evenings, appreciating the times when he can join you at the table, not counting the nights he can’t against him because you know he’s trying his best. The girls clamour for his stories every night, laughing when he teasingly scolds them for yanking on his tie, demanding goodnight kisses from both him and you. 

Now you force Kuroo to take some time to himself, shoo him off for lunches with Kenma, get-togethers with his Nekoma schoolmates. “I know you can manage it”, you tell him archly, “but you need breaks  so you don’t burn out, or worse – you’ll lose your hair and we don’t want that”. When he opens and closes his mouth without a smart retort, you smirk. You get your way. 

Both of you organise parties and playdates, inviting your shared friends – Kenma, of course, is a frequent guest, Bokuto, who brings along Akaashi and his sweet tempered little son (who Aiko always manages to pick a fight with, much to Kuroo’s amusement). You host Kai, who always brings offerings of flowers from his garden, Yaku, when he’s in town with his daughter, son and alarmingly fat cat. The adults congregate in the kitchen with food and alcohol, cracking good natured jokes at Kuroo and his frilly pink apron, watching the children cause a ruckus in the living room. 

But you cherish the quiet moments you share with Kuroo at night when the children are asleep in bed. The chats you have whilst soaking in a hot bath about your day at work, the snippets of stories he shares about his boss, his crazy colleagues, the warmth of his arm around you as you stay up to clear emails late into the night, the heated kisses he presses to the nape of your neck to distract you when he thinks you’re working too hard. 

It’s a good life. You’re happy, and so is he. 

A year slips by. 

The seasons come full circle. You return to the ryokan, finding peace in soaking yourself in steaming pools, watching the bamboo sway, the sun rise over Mt. Fuji. But this time, you’re not alone. You persuade Kuroo that he, too, needs a break - deserves one, truly. So you leave the girls with your mother and take the bullet train down to Hakone. 

He shoots you a smirk as you both emerge from the private bath he’d insisted on booking. You swat at him, pulling your yukata higher up your neck, scowling as he winds an arm around your waist to press you into his side. 

“You couldn’t wait til we got back to our room?” you hiss at him. 

He chuckles lowly in response. “Didn’t hear you complaining”, he retorts. 

“We were in an onsen, Tetsuro!” 

“A private one”, he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, laughing aloud when you try and fail to slap your hand over his mouth. “What d’you think I was going to do with my lovely wife? I’m not a monk, sweetheart”

You try your best to shush him, but his cackling manages to capture the attention of everyone in the lift.  

“What a happy couple”, an old lady remarks, within your earshot. “They must be newly married” 

You think she must be a little senile. Or a little blind. 

Neither of you are in your first flush of youth anymore - there are streaks of grey in Tetsuro’s mop of hair, extra weight in your hips and lines in your faces. No one could conceivably mistake you for a pair of newlyweds.

“Nah”, Kuroo drawls easily into your ear. “Just your regular old, married couple.”

You don’t speak until you’re safely in your room. 

“A regular, old, happily married couple”, you say, as he hands you a cup of tea. “That obaa-san got that part right at least.”

Kuroo chokes on the lump of emotion in his throat as you serenely sip your tea. 

The tea tastes bitter (as it always does), but the kisses that follow are so very, very sweet. 

[seijorhi]

No Strings Attached

A commission for the lovely @hearteyes-candyskies, hope you like it bby! 💕

Bokuto Koutarou x female reader

TW Age gap, power imbalance, manipulation, toxic behaviour, nsfw(ish)

Three months ago, you would have laughed at the very idea of having a sugar daddy. 

Then again, three months ago you were still living with your boyfriend and had a steady paycheck coming in every week. You can blame losing the latter on bad luck and an asshole boss, but the former-

You knew your relationship with your ex was far from perfect, but coming home from losing said job to find him buried balls deep in your next door neighbour was a bit of a slap in the face. 

Needless to say, in the space of a few days you were out a job, a boyfriend and an apartment. Which, somewhat inevitably, led to you being six wines deep, slumped over your best friend’s bed, sobbing over the wreckage of the life you’d built, suddenly ripped out from beneath you.

You can’t really remember whose idea it was, only giggling drunkenly between yourselves as Misuzu set up your ‘sugar baby’ profile. “Shh, no this is gonna be great,” she’d said, hitting at the hands that tried to grab back your phone. “Meet some hot rich old dude, ride a little dick, let him shower you in cash; all your problems? Poof, sorted!”

And even with the heady, rose tinted haze of your wine fuelled inebriation, you knew that it was just a joke, a bit of stupid fun born more out of an attempt to cheer you up than a viable plan to get the tattered remains of your life back on track. Calling some old creepy dude ‘daddy’ and pretending to love him (not to mention the whole letting him fuck you thing) just for a little money wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time.

Plus, you were fairly sure that you weren’t what most people had in mind when they thought ‘sugar baby’. It wasn’t ever meant to be anything serious, just dumb, drunken fun with your friend.

So when you woke the next day a little after mid morning with a head full of regrets and a pounding headache, the last thing you expected was to find a message from BigDaddyKou82 waiting for you, better sense told you to ignore it.

Honestly, you didn’t really want a sugar daddy, your love life was enough of a mess without throwing in a power imbalance like that.

You should have ignored the message, deleted it or shot him a quick reply politely explaining that you weren’t interested so you could put it out of your mind, and you would have-

If Misuzu hadn’t caught sight of the message first, snatching the phone out of your hand with a gleeful shriek. 

—

If you’ve learned anything in these past months, it’s that Bokuto Koutarou doesn’t do anything by half measures. So when he tells you he’s booked dinner for the two of you at an upscale restaurant in the city, you should have expected the package that’s hand delivered right to the door of your shitty little apartment. The dress is beautiful, expensive - though you could tell that just from the elegant matte black box wrapped in golden ribbon it arrives in. It’s exactly his style; short, revealing and just dancing along the edge of impropriety, not that that’ll bother him in the slightest. 

But it is gorgeous, and loathe as you are to admit it, it flatters you well.

It’s not the first time that he’s bought you clothes, your tiny closet’s almost overflowing with pieces he’s gifted you. He likes seeing you in the things he’s bought, sometimes a little too much, you think. But you’ve learned it’s better just to go along with it - he gets this wide eyed, beaming grin whenever he sees you dressed in the pretty things he’s bought you, and the sight of it never fails to make your cheeks heat, warmth curling in your stomach. 

The dress was not unexpected. The soft, lacy lingerie that comes in the accompanying box, on the other hand - that was new.

And of course, you barely have time to unwrap your gift when your phone flashes to life, an incoming call from the man himself.

“D’ya like it?”

The giddy excitement in his voice is unmistakable, and if you close your eyes you can picture the look on his face - golden eyes all hooded and hungry, that glittering, eager grin he wears when the two of you are out in public but his mind’s occupied with all the filthy, wonderful things he wants to do to you the moment you’re alone. 

Not that he’s ever that patient. 

“Um, it’s…” Fingers tentatively reach into the tissue paper, pulling the sheer, lacy bra out, warmth blossoming in your cheeks. The matching panties - a tiny scrap of lace held together with bows and thin black straps - really aren’t much better. Like the dress, the lingerie is clearly well made, probably cost more than your weekly rent, and the delicate set is arguably gorgeous (you can’t even argue his taste), but–

“You’re gonna wear it for me tonight, right, baby?” 

It’s not really a question; of course you will, because you always do. You would have thought by now that you’d be used to the gifts he showers you in. 

“Yeah, but Kou, you really didn’t have to spend all this money on me. Dinner’s enough,” you tell him, setting the lingerie back down. 

Dinner, and everything else for that matter. 

A chuckle echoes down the line. “But I like spoiling my girl. Like buying you pretty things,” his voice dips, “like tearing ‘em off you afterwards, too.” 

And despite all the apprehension curled up inside of you, a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. 

—

“So…” Misuzu pushes, leaning across the countertop with her chin resting on her palm and looking entirely too pleased at your discomfort.

“He… asked me to meet him.”

Her eyes widen, sparkling in delight as she gasps, “For dinner?”

“For a drink - one drink,” you clarify. You elect not to tell her that he’d initially tried to sway you into dinner, and it was you who’d talked him down to a drink. Truthfully, you’d probably feel more comfortable getting coffee, but meeting at a bar was fine.

One drink, and if things got awkward or he turned out to be a creep you’d be out of there in a heartbeat. 

“Oh my god!! My baby Y/N, all grown up and manipulating old, lonely men for money. I’m so proud,” she wipes a fake tear from her eye and bursts into a fit of giggles.

A crinkle appears between your brow as you frown at her, “He’s not even that old,” you grumble, “and it’s not like that. You know it’s not.”

“No?” she asks, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “You know, for somebody who was so against me messaging your soon to be sugar daddy, you sure move quickly.”

She laughs at the glare you shoot her way. “You were the one who started this.”

“Mhm, and you were the one who didn’t stop it. Funny that, don’t you think?”

She looks like the cat that ate the canary; smug, glittering amusement written all across her face. And you hate, more than anything, that she’s right.

Because you’d meant to put a stop to it the moment you managed to wrestle your phone back from her. Afterwards, you’d blame the lingering hurt of having your heart broken, the insecurities and bitter humiliation that plagued you, the feeling that you weren’t good enough to stop your boyfriend from straying for making you so pathetically vulnerable and desperate for approval - but when you opened the chat instead of the sleazy come on’s you expected, his first message makes something inside of you flutter, warm and pleasant.

Holy crap, you’re beautiful.

Not exactly a sonnet from Shakespeare, but you can’t remember the last time any guy, much less your ex, called you beautiful. 

It didn’t exactly hurt that instead of the aging, creepy looking letch you were half expecting, the profile picture showed a rather fit, attractive man in a crisp, black suit with silvery grey streaked hair and an easy grin. Of course, it was a fifty-fifty chance that the pic wasn’t even him, or if it was then it was outdated or heavily edited, but it was enough to make you pause.

Enough to make you… curious, if nothing else.

But ridiculously attractive or not, you weren’t going to lead him on. If he wanted some pretty, simpering thing to fuck and throw money at, to call him daddy and be his sweet, obedient little girl - that wasn’t you. You’d explained that you weren’t really sure if this was your thing, that you probably weren’t what he had in mind, but surprisingly he hadn’t been put off by that.

Well what’s the harm in finding out for yourself? Maybe you’ll like it more than you think ;)

—

There were rules, when you started - lines you both agreed wouldn’t be crossed.

First and foremost, while it wasn’t exactly a conventional relationship - at least, not the kind you were used to - it was still a relationship of sorts, and there was an expectation of honesty in lieu of absolute exclusivity. You’d tell him if you were seeing anybody else, and Bokuto would tell you the same. Considering sex was on the table, it made sense.

You swore right from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to become financially dependent on him - you knew all too well that relationships were fickle things to begin with. That kind of dependency was half the reason you were in this position in the first place, and you wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that happen again. That didn’t mean that the arrangement wasn’t transactional. After a few initial meetings that went better than you expected, the two of you came to an agreement; a nice little sum of money he’d deposit weekly in your account in exchange for you being there when he wanted you. Dinner dates, skype calls when he’s travelling, spur of the moment weekends away in expensive hotels - whatever he wanted... within reason.

The thing is, despite his flaws - the little funks he gets into, his immaturity despite the age gap between you, the way he clings to you, mopes if you don’t pay him the attention he wants - you genuinely like Bo, he’s oddly endearing. Loveable, even. He reminds you a little of a puppy; eager for affection, bright and boisterous with boundless energy (and enviable stamina). He’s sweet and adoring and funny and he has this uncanny ability to make everything else fade away when you’re with him, to make you feel like you’re the only woman in the room, beautiful and perfect and entirely his-

But that didn’t make him your boyfriend. 

You weren’t lovers, and whether it was in two weeks or two years, you both knew this arrangement had an expiration date. And because of that, there were no strings attached. At any point, either one of you could end it without an explanation - no questions asked, no feelings hurt. 

—

Truthfully, you don’t know an awful lot about Bokuto’s line of work, only that his position within the company is senior enough that he can move around his schedule pretty much as he wants, leaving him free to see you whenever he likes. 

Which wasn’t a problem when that was once or twice a week. 

“Sorry, Koutarou, you know I can’t. Maybe tomorrow?”

The petulant whine that echoes down the phone fills you with an odd sort of  guilt. “Why not? You said no on Friday, too,” he pouts. “I miss you, baby. Wanna see you again.”

You shove down the faint, flickering unease that nudges at your gut. You’re not his girlfriend, and you find yourself wondering whether or not he sometimes deliberately lets himself forget that.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you frown, “I told you I have work today. It’s too late for me to try and find someone to cover my shift, and if I call in again-”

You can kiss your job goodbye. You’re already on thin ice with your boss, and it’s not like new waitresses are hard to find these days. 

“Well… what time do you finish?” he asks, his voice thick with dejection, as if he already knows what your answer’s going to be.

You bite back a sigh, “Late. I’m on close again.”

The short silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. “… I’ll come pick you up afterwards.”

This time you can’t stop the soft sigh that escapes, “Kou, I’m gonna be exhausted, I won’t be any fun to be around.”

“Still wanna see you. You’re always working,” he grumbles. “Feels like you don’t have time for me anymore, baby.”

Slowly your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. It always comes back to this. “I need this job, baby. We’ve talked about this… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I have the whole day off, I’m entirely yours.”

“All mine, hm?”

You smile, “All yours, promise.”

He hums in acknowledgement, not entirely happy, but temporarily placated. “Fiiiine. But I’m holding you to it.”

As if you expected any less. “I have to go get ready for work. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll see you later,” he promises, and you hang up a moment later. 

When he said that, you assumed that both of you were on the same page as to what ‘later’ meant.

Three hours into your shift, you hadn’t expected to return from the kitchen to find a grinning Bokuto lounging in one of your booths.

“He asked for you specifically when he came in,” one of your coworkers tells you, shooting you a playful wink. “Didn’t know you were into silver foxes, Y/N. But I can’t say I blame you, he’s hot!”

“Yeah, thanks,” you mutter distractedly, glancing over your shoulder to check your manager wasn’t watching before making your way over.

The smile on your face is tight as golden eyes flicker towards you. “Bokuto,” you begin quietly, “what- what are you doing here?”

An odd look passes across his face at the use of his family name, but the smug grin remains. “You said you had to work tonight,” he says with a cavalier shrug, as if that explained everything. 

“Yes, because I’m working! Kou, I need this job, I can’t-” you break off with a huff, darting another glance over your shoulder. Thankfully, your manager’s busy berating your co-worker for a screwed up order and hasn’t noticed your absence yet.  

Taking advantage of your distracted state, Bokuto reaches across the table to take your hand in his, his thumb stroking back and forth along the back of your palm. “Hey, hey, relax. You’re here to work, I get it, baby. I’m just here for some food, cross my heart,” he swears, drawing an imaginary X over his chest with his finger.

Gently tugging your hand back, you ignore the hurt little pout he gives you. “So you decided to drive twenty minutes across town just to eat here?” you ask, trying to keep the exasperation from colouring your tone. 

He shifts a little in his seat, cheeks flushing a dusty pink under your narrowed stare. “… Well, maybe I wanted to see my pretty girl, too,” he admits, “But I swear I’ll be on my best behaviour!”

Somehow, his words don’t fill you with confidence, but what are you supposed to do? Kick him out? Snap at him for coming despite the fact you told him not to? Taking a deep, steadying breath through your nose, you force yourself to relax. Bokuto’s not hurting anybody by being there, and so long as he keeps his hands to himself, so long as he behaves, it won’t be an issue.

He’s a paying customer, and you’ll treat him just like you would anyone else who walked through the restaurant’s doors.

Yet despite trying to reassure yourself of that, you can’t escape the niggling sense of unease sitting in the pit of your stomach. Even if he’s the perfect gentleman tonight, the perfect stranger, you’ve worked hard to keep your boring day to day life and the one you’ve created with him in nice, neat, separate boxes. Bokuto hasn’t met your friends or your family and outside of Misuzu they don’t have a clue about your arrangement with your attractive if somewhat clingy benefactor.

You don’t want them to know.

Him being here threatens that - it makes you nervous.

But you’ve been with Bokuto long enough to know that you can’t tell him that without hurting his feelings, and you definitely don’t have the energy to deal with that tonight. It’s a conversation for another day.

Instead, you allow a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips, “You know the food’s pretty average here, you might be disappointed.”

Bokuto grins again, mischief sparkling in those golden eyes, and your traitorous heart skips a beat. “Yeah, don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he leans in closer, “I’m far more interested in what’s for dessert.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as he snickers. 

—

For the most part he keeps his hands to himself, but you can’t quite bring yourself to relax when you can feel those golden, hungry eyes burning a hole into your back as you move around the restaurant serving other customers.

You pretend you don’t see the scowling glower he sends to the harmless office-worker who spends a good forty five minutes flirting with you every time you go over to check on his table.

Bokuto orders enough food to feed a small army and stays until close, leaving a more than generous tip on his way out. 

It goes without saying that he waits for you to finish up. The moment you slip out the door, calling out one last goodnight to your coworker, he’s on you, pushing you up against the brick alleyway wall, hiking your legs up over his hips as his mouth attacks yours, greedy and eager, swallowing up any and all protests you might’ve had.

He doesn’t take you home like you ask, but back to his penthouse suite, and neither of you get much sleep that night.

—

You’re halfway through washing your hair a few days later when your shower head splutters once… twice… and stops completely. 

A blockage in the plumbing, your landlord informs you rather apathetically. It’s affecting the whole floor and it’ll take at least a day or two to get somebody out to fix it properly, leaving you without running water for the entirety of that time.

In hindsight, there were at least three other people you could have (and probably should have) called first, but he’s already answering the phone before the thought even occurs to you. 

And then it’s too late to backpedal. You find yourself grateful that he can’t physically see the way you flush and fidget, pacing around your living room as you awkwardly try to explain the reason you’re calling at ten in the morning. 

“Would, I mean, i-is it okay if I come over to use your shower? Just for this one time, mine kind of got interrupted this morning.” 

God, from the way you stutter, stumbling over your own tongue, you’d think you were asking him to marry you. You’ve spent the night at his countless times before, but asking for a favour, even a small one like this - maybe you’re toeing an unwritten line in the sand? Bokuto isn’t with you because he loves you, he’s with you because it’s mutually beneficial for both of you, because of an agreement. 

He wants fun, easy, not you saddling him with minor inconveniences. Calling to ask him to come save you, albeit from something as mundane as a lack of access to a functioning shower, feels like something you’d ask your boyfriend to do. 

Not your sugar daddy.

But just as you’re about to backtrack and apologise for interrupting his morning, he speaks. “What d’you mean? Just come stay with me till it’s fixed.”

He says it with such certainty, as if it’s the most obvious solution and for a moment you’re stunned into silence. “A-are you sure? I don’t want-'' Don't want what? To be an inconvenience? A problem? “I don’t want to be in the way,” you finish lamely.

Bokuto just laughs, “Don’t be stupid, baby, of course you won’t be in the way. Just swing by the office and I can give you the keys. Or I can just get you another set made? I don’t know, we can figure it out later. I’ll see you soon, ‘kay?” 

And you have to admit, as apprehensive as you were stepping into his penthouse alone for the first time, showering in Bokuto’s fancy ensuite bathroom (which you’re fairly sure is bigger than your actual bedroom) is a hell of a lot nicer than doing it at home. The lotions he has are all expensive brands with french names you’ve never even heard of before, but they smell amazing and they leave your skin feeling all soft and silky. Even the shampoo he’s bought for you to use is far nicer than the one you have at home, though you’re secretly pleased that its scent’s similar - your favourite, actually. 

Did he buy them knowing that or was it just a coincidence, you wonder. You never thought to ask. 

Without work, or Bo for that matter, to occupy your time, you decide to take advantage of his gigantic TV, opening up Netflix and settling into his ridiculously comfortable couch… 

… And wake, a few hours later to the feeling of fingers carding through your hair and a pair of lips pressing against your cheek. 

Bokuto’s home, you realise with a start, and there’s drool on your chin. Face burning with embarrassment, you hastily wipe it away with the back of your palm and try to sit up, only for Bokuto’s hand to wrap around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

“No, don’t get up, baby,” he says, easing down onto the couch beside you and shifting your head onto his lap so he can continue threading his fingers through your hair. “I like coming home to this.”

Still half asleep, curling up and nuzzling further into those warm, thick thighs of his, you miss the intensity of the adoration burning in golden depths as he coaxes you back to sleep.

—

The two of you are in bed, your cheek resting on his chest, his arm slung over your waist and knuckles brushing idly along your side, when Bokuto breaks the comfortable silence. 

“Move in with me.”

You tense in his arms, heart skipping a beat. For a split second, you’re almost positive that you misheard him. “I-I’m sorry?” You push yourself up onto your elbow, turning your head so that you can look at him properly.

But Bokuto doesn’t miss a beat. “Move in with me,” he repeats, golden eyes bearing down on you.

The expression on your face is frozen halfway between disbelief and hysteria, and you’re staring at him, waiting for that stupid grin to break across his face, for him to laugh and tell you how ridiculous you look, because of course he’s joking.

He’s joking, right?

“Koutarou,” you begin slowly, “Wha- I don’t… Why would you want me to move in with you? We barely- I mean, we’re not…” 

He shrugs his shoulders, “Why wouldn’t I? It makes sense. My place is bigger and nicer, and I like having you here with me. Feels right.”

It feels right??

“I-I can’t just move out of my apartment, Kou.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he huffs, “Why not? It’s a shitty apartment.”

“That’s not the point!” Knocking away the hand that reaches for you, you push yourself all the way up until you’re sitting properly. “I don’t want to move.” 

Owlish eyes narrow, a flash of irritation sparking. “Why not? It makes perfect sense for you to move in here with me. You wouldn’t have to work at that stupid job anymore for one,” he huffs. 

“Bokuto, I’m not going to quit my job,” you mutter. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Why, though?!” he explodes. “You don’t need the money, I’ve told you I can take care of you, whatever you want, baby, name it and it’s fucking yours. You don’t need to work and you don’t need that shitty little apartment!”

Like a crystal glass slipping from numb fingers, the fantasy you’ve convinced yourself you’ve been living shatters into a thousand jagged shards in the space of a single breath.

Oh, how naive you’ve been. How fucking stupid.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you inhale deeply, “Kou, that’s not-”

Strong fingers grip your jaw, and your eyes shoot open as he tugs your face back towards him. Your breath catches in your throat, heart hammering painfully against your ribs. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out, but it’s the intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, the blank expression-

“I love you.”

—

39 missed calls. 72 unread messages. 

Flowers, bouquets of roses, peonies and chrysanthemums piled up by your door between boxes of chocolates and other gifts you won’t bring yourself to open. 

Wide eyed, Misuzu gingerly steps over them, holding two steaming mugs in hand. “Holy fuck,” she murmurs, and for the first time since this stupid, awful mistake began, there’s not a trace of mirth to be found. “Y/N, I…”

But she doesn’t have the words, and you can’t blame her. 

“He told me he loves me,” you sigh. “He asked me to move in with him and told me he loved me, and I grabbed my clothes and all but ran.” You still can’t get the image of Bokuto’s face out of your head, the raw, aching hurt swimming in his eyes as you all but stumbled over excuses in your haste to get out of there. But he didn’t lift a finger to stop you, didn’t say another word.

He just watched numbly, hunched over against the headboard as you fled.

There’s a short beat of silence between the two of you as she sets down the drinks and collapses into the chair beside you. “And… do you love him back?” 

Exhaling loudly, you drop your face into your palms. “I-”

You like how he makes you feel beautiful, the filthy, wonderful praise he lavishes you in when the two of you sleep together, the way he touches you, fingers and mouth so eager to please as his cock fills you, inch by delicious inch.

You like being adored, treasured, and you liked Bo, but… you don’t love him.

That was never on the cards, that wasn’t what your relationship was.

Every line he ever crossed, every boundary he toed, you keep replaying them again and again over and over in your head like a never ending loop. You hadn’t even wanted this whole stupid sugar baby relationship to begin with, and every step of the way he was the one to coax you forward.

And you let him, swallowing down your doubts and your insecurities each and every time. You let him think that this was something else entirely… 

How had you not seen this coming?

“No,” you admit.

The hand that takes yours is soft, and when you glance over with eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears, Misuzu squeezes it gently. “Then end it. Walk away.”

And with your head on her shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around you, you type out a short message to Bokuto. No strings attached and no questions asked, you’d promised each other that much when you’d started this mess. You wonder if it still holds true. 

I’m sorry. Clearly we were on different pages and want different things. I didn’t mean to lead you on or for things to go as far as they did, but I can’t do this with you anymore. 

You send it and block his contact, and when the tears come and painful sobs rip their way free, Misuzu holds you tight and murmurs soft reassurances. It’ll pass, all breakups hurt.

—

A week after your ‘breakup’ you get a notification on your phone that money’s been transferred into your bank account. 

For a moment, you think that maybe it’s an accident, a recurring transaction he’d simply forgotten to cancel (you doubt he’d even notice) until you click into the transaction itself.

It isn’t the sum itself that startles you - twice the usual amount - but the short note attached in the description.

I need to see you. Please.

You transfer the money right back into his account.

—

Without your weekly supplement from Bo, it doesn’t take long for you to come to the realisation that your current salary just barely covers rent and your bills, and if you want to eat anything other than two minute noodles in the foreseeable future, you’re going to need either more hours, or a second job. 

Thankfully, the timing works out well. When you go to your boss with your most winning smile to try and convince her of your plight, she simply shrugs and agrees, having had to let one of the junior staff go only a few days before. The one catch being that instead of working a mix of morning and afternoon shifts with the occasional closing thrown in, you’re now exclusively on close, five nights a week, Tuesday through Saturday.

Mostly, it doesn’t bother you. The shifts are long and you always leave feeling aching, drained and barely human, but usually it’s quiet enough, and so long as you can get the last few lingering customers out early enough, the actual close runs pretty smoothly between you and the other staff. 

It’s not what you really want to be doing, but you’ve learned to make the best of it. This is adult life, and for the first time since high school, you’re supporting yourself entirely. It might not be the greatest job in the world, and there are absolutely days when you just want to throw in the towel completely, but there is a slight pride to that fact. You don’t need anybody in your life to coddle or support you, you’re figuring this shit out as you go along.

You just wish, sometimes, that you could do that without having to work until the early hours of the morning.

On paper, the kitchen closes at midnight and the last customers are supposed to be out within half an hour of that. Then, between yourself and another server, you can usually get the restaurant tidied up and closed a little after one. 

You knew right from the moment you clocked on that tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights. The girl who’s supposed to be on close with you called in sick and your boss hasn’t bothered to replace her.

It’s not the first time you’ve had to close by yourself, but it’s still a pain, especially when the last few customers take forever to finish up and leave. 

One of the kitchen staff offers to stay back, his bag slung over his shoulder, hand already on the door handle but you just shake your head with a tired smile. 

“Nah, I can handle it. Thanks, though,”

To his credit, he doesn’t immediately take the offered out. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

Without any help, it takes almost twice as long for you to finish up, and it’s a little after two when you finally flick off the lights and lock the doors.

Your feet are killing you, and all you can think about is sinking into your bed at home, burrowing into your blankets and sleeping for a week straight-

“Hey, baby.” 

Leaning against the hood of his car, arms folded across his broad chest and eyeing you with an unreadable expression, is Bokuto. 

The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

There's nothing inherently threatening about him being here, but it’s the middle of the night, you haven’t seen him in almost two weeks and you don’t need to glance around to know that the car park’s empty. There’s nobody in sight.

Just you and him, and the few feet of distance separating you. 

“K-kou, what are you… what are you doing here?” 

He smiles at that, the way his name slips from your lips, but only for a fleeting second. It fades, and a cold, uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. 

“I missed you, y’know?” He pushes off the hood and takes a step towards you, “You didn’t call me.”

He’s always been bigger than you, towering over you looking like some Adonis with those rippling, powerful muscles of his. You used to like that strength, squealing in wicked delight when he’d hoist you up with a grin, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing your ass, your back shoved up against the wall so he could drive his cock deeper into ‘his pretty fuckin’ pussy’. 

But that was then. 

You’ve never been scared of his strength. Even that morning in the apartment, he didn’t lash out, didn’t scream or yell, he just… shut down. He wouldn’t hurt you, you know that.

That doesn’t stop you from skittering backwards like a frightened little bunny, your back hitting the wall.

The very moment you do, you watch as his eyes widen in surprise, hurt flashing for a split second-

-before they darken, his face twisting into a scowl, and you can’t escape the feeling you’ve made an awful mistake. 

Dread creeps its way up your spine, tightening like a vice around your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your brain is screaming at you to run, adrenaline surging through your veins, but even as your heart races and your breathing spikes, you can’t seem to move your legs.

It wouldn’t make a difference even if you could - with your back up against the literal wall, Bokuto and his car blocking your only escape route, you’re trapped; a fact that hasn’t escaped either of you.

Paralysed in fear, you can’t so much as twitch as he takes another slow, calculated step forward.

Desperately, you open your mouth - to try and placate him? To apologise? Scream for help? - but all that escapes is his name in a choked, breathless whisper. 

“Bokuto…”

As he stares at you, he almost looks regretful.

Almost, if not for the grim determination resolving like steel in those golden eyes of his. “I love you, and I know you love me, too,” he says, closing the gap between you. “I’m doing this for us, baby.”

[hesthermay]

𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐇𝐂’𝐒

ʚϊɞ headcannons, word count? again i do not know

ʚϊɞ gn!reader, fluff, domestic!bucky, mechanic!bucky, extremely self indulgent, again i am not sober LOL

— first and foremost, i think there are two versions of bucky

— the one where he stays a city boy his whole life, brooklyn has his heart and always will. which is fine!! i love this bucky to the moon and back

— and the one where he leaves all the hustle and bustle behind to live a quiet life in literally the middle of nowhere. this is my favorite version of bucky to think about, bc my head is my head and i can do what i want

— i picture an old farm house on a plot of land surrounded by woods, nearest neighbor is at least a mile and a half down the road (an old woman who has ‘mama’ in front of her name. she lives on her own and invites the both of you over every sunday night)

— y’all’s driveway is gravel, and the road you turn off of is a dirt road. your mailbox is old and has your last name on it, with a very tiny ‘BARNES’ scribbled under it

— you guys have dogs, two specifically

— and a cat

— bucky is the best pet dad ever. he works at the mechanic shop in town and alpine, your always dirty white cat who’s stuck on him like glue, is his favorite coworker

— alpine rides in the passenger seat or on the dash of the old truck you gave bucky when y’all met. it belonged to your brother and had been in the shed in the backyard for a while, but he’d had that spark that made you want to bring back that part of your life

— the dogs always greet the both of you when you get home from work. they sit by the mailbox with tongues sticking out and tails wagging. they chase the trucks to the end of the driveway and expect their lovins right then and there

— bonfires in the backyard all the time. it’s something the two of you cherish, nights where you pile into one lawn chair with a blanket and talk the night away. it’s also something you share with your friends, music playing loud and beers and such in hand

— it took bucky a while to get acclimated to your friend group, but after a while he found his footing. his personality really comes out one summer, the first summer spent as your boyfriend, and everyone falls for him even more than they already had. they’d loved him from the beginning, but once he let his laugh get loud and true, rolled his sleeves up and took the glove off, they knew he could be their friend

— your group frequents your place; whether that be after work, on lunch break, when they need to be patched up a bit—your home is the Mom and Dad home

— you don’t mind it, it just means the house you worked hard for is creating a space for all the love you’d hoped for. bucky doesn’t mine it either, because it makes him feel so much like his regular self to stand by your side as you make a large dinner with the sounds of the screen door opening and closing ever so often in the background

— bucky talks to sam a lot. they may bicker, but a phone call is still a phone call

— sam also loves you. to death

— bucky snores in his sleep. some nights he’s able to sleep in the bed, other nights it’s the bedroom floor. he falls asleep on the couch a lot, or in the recliner (like an old man lololol) you don’t complain tho. wherever he gets his sleep, as least he’s getting it

— living with bucky is so fun. seeing him become himself is so great. watching him begin to love life again is the best thing ever

— you love bucky and he loves you. it’s evident in the little things that domestic life brings—washing the dishes together and his hand touches yours as the plate is passed along, one person getting home from work before the other and starting dinner for the night, dropping off lunch for him at the shop when you’re on your break, him following the dogs as they run out the door hollering “hey mom!” as your truck pulls into the driveway

— this is a constant daydream i live in goodbye

ʚϊɞ reblogs are always appreciated luvs ! ʚϊɞ

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own. 

[spooky-space-kook]

Oh no Our Flag Means Death is so good and sincere and heartfelt and oh fuck my heart

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS.

First and foremost, to whomever thought "we have a Taika, let's put him in long flowing locks that sit lightly on his shoulders and over his ears" you KNEW what you were doing and all I can say is THANK YOU. Holy shit. How is he still pretty under all. that. beard.

I have a lot of feelings in line with what everyone else has, honestly, but there were a few things that I really appreciate.

I love that a story entirely focused on queer love and finding yourself is named "Our Flag Means Death." Maybe it's not intentional and I'm just reading into things (but, like, this entire website could be called readingintothings.com so whatever), but flags and the queer community are a real thing. I feel like the title was trying to say something from the start. I dunno. I love it.

SPOILER TERRITORY. I like that we got a parallel between Mary's experience and Ed/Blackbeard's experience after Stede ran. Mary's life became brighter, lighter, and happier. Ed collapsed in on himself. I think that contrast is beautiful, and tells us so much about where Stede should be. Where he's needed, wanted and loved. It was so good.

I love that Ed is the legend. The tough guy. The shut down one who's done anything and everything. And he's the one who crumbles. I think that's beautiful. I know that a lot of the story is not just about romance, but about masculinity and how it presents itself (more from this EXCELLENT video on that), and I think they show that INCREDIBLY well in Blackbeard. And, I think, we'll get more of that excellence from Stede in future. I think of the two, Blackbeard is the one that opened up the most throughout the series, and ultimately became a living wound because of it. I think Stede only just started really experiencing that at the very end.

A total sidebar, but Izzy's relationship to Blackbeard (not necessarily with. No, I specifically mean to) is… woof. The dude clearly wants a certain kind of man, or at least a certain kind of energy, in his life. And he keeps trying to force Blackbeard into that mould. I hope next season we see Izzy realize he's doing more harm than good. I hope he's less blinded by his own selfishness.

To whoever called "Dog energy" vs. "Cat energy" you were 1,000% on the money. I honestly love the acting here. Both were really engaging, especially side-by-side with one another.

SPOILER TERRITORY AGAIN. That thing with Lucius. I thought Izzy did it. Izzy was the one with the grudge. That's not a small thing. You could see in Lucius's face that he genuinely hurt for Ed in that tent, but like everything that was tied to Stede or saw Ed hurting, he had to go. Because Ed's choosing to shut down and let go. Also if Lucius is ACTUALLY gone I'm going to fucking RIOT.

I have so many other thoughts. So many. Holy crap so many. I legitimately cried at the end. I want another season so bad. AUGH, IT'S VERY GOOD OK.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

--

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

--

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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